A Bad Batch Mid-Review: The Tragedy of Order 66
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| "Hey guys, I fit in like a bantha at a bachelor party!" |
Didn’t we get this story in The Mandolorian? I will say, however, that my previous indifference to the character has been somewhat alleviated by the most recent episode, where she learns her “superpower” of sorts that sets her apart from the other Clones (aside from the obvious, of course), and that her superpower isn’t “I’m a woman” that Hollywood seems to be making a trend these days. The fact that Omega could possibly rival Grand Admiral Thrawn in the future is a promising one because of her newfound strategic nature. That being said, it has become quite obvious from leaked Disney+ statistics that Omega is the number one detractor from why the series is losing viewership. Unfortunate, but I do agree that the progression of the show is making great lengths to improve the character in ways I love, and I look forward to future seasons of the series, which I believe will happen.
Anyway, let’s now talk about the main reason we’re here: Order 66. This was the biggest attractor to The Bad Batch, as many of the comments suggested in the trailer of the show. I myself was fascinated by all of the possibilities and nuances the Inhibitor Chip, introduced late into The Clone Wars, would offer. It fixed some problems we got to see over the course of the Clone War, such as the fact that we got to see firsthand how human the Clones really were, rather than the mechanical Droid counterparts they were bred to fight. Each had their own personalities and aspirations, ways of dropping “clankahs”, and mannerisms in which they communicated ideas and feelings. Feelings. This is important. At their heart, they are human. They may follow orders to a near-inhuman degree, but even on the campaign on Umbara, they showed that they were capable of disobeying orders.
This created a serious problem: how could somebody like Commander Cody, who was shown to be a loyal follower of the Jedi in more than just a military capacity, so callously shoot down his close friend Obi-Wan, his brother in the foxhole, as it were? The inhibitor chip. While its specifics aren’t disseminated to the audience, this is a biological computer chip grown into the Clones from conception, designed to remain dormant until a high-ranking member of the Republic were to activate it through a series of code words. In this instance: “Execute Order 66”. From the term “inhibitor”, I can only surmise that it essentially inhibits some kind of brain function, and based on Commander Cody’s sudden and uncharacteristic apathy towards killing a trusted ally, I’d be willing to bet money the inhibited cognitive function is empathy. Without that, they could do exactly as they were trained: to follow orders without question. This is also true of Tup, a Clone soldier whose chip prematurely activated and ended up killing one of his Jedi Commanders in a later season of The Clone Wars, thus sparking an investigation by some Clones who very nearly wrecked Palpatine’s plans before they could be completed.
Which takes us to The Bad Batch. In the first five minutes of the show, we get to see the end of the Clone War, where Supreme Chancellor Palpatine (not yet Emperor) commands that the Clones execute Order 66. Most Clones in this scene go after Kanan Jarrus’ master in this scene and kill her, while Kanan himself (one of the chief characters in Star Wars: Rebels, in case some of you were unaware) survives due to the Bad Batch’s intentional negligence. You see, because the Bad Batch are a bunch of abnormal Clones, their inhibitor chips did not activate. Well, most of them, anyway… We get to see one of their crew, Crosshair, take issue with the fact that his team are questioning the orders. In fact, he even spews the same rhetoric the other Clones do when their Inhibitor Chip activates: “Good soldiers follow orders.” He ultimately betrays his team (or, perhaps, they betray him), and the rest of the Bad Batch leaves with Omega in their care. But Crosshair is someone I want to come back to. Before we go any further, I want to once again reiterate how much you could do with the entirety of Order 66 and the Inhibitor Chips, and how disappointed I’ve been with it thus far.
In
storytelling, there’s a concept called “placing the gun on the
table”. It’s a device for storytellers to subtly
communicate
a cohesive and tight plot without any useless details. Maybe
it’s a plot point that isn’t important now, but needs to be
established so a later incident has some much-needed context. Or
perhaps it’s something you might want the audience to forget about
until the moment is needed. Whatever the case, if
you write about somebody placing a firearm on a table, then at some
point that gun needs to go off in the story or
else it just becomes a useless detail that bogs the story down.
Usually, when it does go
off,
then it needs to carry some weight to the story.
The best example of this that I can think of happens in Breaking Bad. In the first season of the show we are introduced to a chemical compound called Ricin, which the show’s main character, Walter White, concocts to kill their first antagonist: Tuco Salamanca, their biggest threat at the time (laughs in Chicken Man). They very specifically state that once it takes effect, there is no cure and is 100% lethal (which is actually somewhat frightening because this very real compound can be extracted from storebought rice). That particular dosage of Ricin never gets used in that instance, and Tuco dies from other causes that are ultimately not important for this analogy. Throughout the show, as they take on other antagonists, Walter continually suggests using it, reminding the audience it still exists and even bringing about some tension as we fear that he will use it on characters we like, but ends up never doing so. It isn’t until the final episode that we see the Ricin get used to take out the only antagonist left in their way, which gives the audience a sense of accomplishment; this Ricin plot device finally gets used, and it is to great relief of the audience as we smugly see the villain succumb to the symptoms we were warned about. This is perhaps the greatest example of placing the gun on the table that I’ve ever seen. Now that we have that out of the way, I want to talk about Wrecker.
As early as Episode 3 (though now that I think about it, it may have started in Episode 1, I have to go back and watch it), we see Wrecker get a head injury and the audience is clued in that his Inhibitor Chip may be activating; in fact, I remember talking with someone on the YouTube comments of a video who wanted to know what was happening to Wrecker, and I explained the exact same “gun on the table” storytelling device above. Every episode after continues to clue us in on the fact that Wrecker is a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. That gun placed on the table finally goes off when Rex, a chief character in The Clone Wars, makes an appearance and demands that the Bad Batch get their Inhibitor Chips removed. It isn’t until Wrecker is just about to get his removed that it fully activates. He outmuscles everybody trying to subdue him, and starts chasing after Omega. He takes his shot at her when the opportunity comes—and is ultimately knocked out before he can do any real damage.
This is the part that very-strongly disappoints me. Oh, they placed the gun on the table alright. And as soon as it goes off it offers no real bearing on the story. That, in my opinion, is a cardinal sin and a waste of screentime in every episode this future event is foreshadowed. In essence, the outcome of this storytelling device has effectively wasted the audience’s time. It honestly would have been far better for the story if there was some kind of consequence to Wrecker’s activation, a tribute to the Tragedy of Order 66 that needs to happen in order for it to carry any weight. Seriously maiming or killing someone in the crew would have gone a long ways to add some nuance. Get some skin in the game, Bad Batch! Star Wars is a tragedy after all! Seriously consider how it would have affected the overall characterization of Wrecker, who is by many accounts the crowd favorite of the series (myself included). It would be interesting for him to not partake of the admittedly cute ritual of Star Warsian popcorn after every mission (I currently forget the name of it), to fear what he might do to Omega, even without the chip commanding his every move, to not be able to look her in the eye as he eventually works through the terrible act of mind control he was subject to. This is the kind of story Star Wars is made for. One could charitably call Star Wars “The Tragedy of Anakin Skywalker”, so why not continue with this theme of tragedy? After all, the show is supposed to be covering the darkest time in galactic history—we’re right in the thick of it at this point in time! Not only that, but it can subtly act as a control group, or a contrast, if you will… to another possible tragedy that could still happen, if my hopes come true. Let’s get back to Crosshair.
Easily the coldest and most-calculating of the crew, Crosshair is absolutely the polar opposite to someone like Wrecker. Where one punches his way through the fight and sees only what’s right in front of him, the other fights from afar and sees the bigger picture. This isn’t a story of rogue Clones vs. the Empire (though that is without a doubt the backdrop of this tragedy); this is rather a story of the Bad Batch vs. Crosshair. In an earlier episode we get to see how the Bad Batch handles a group of Imperial dissidents with Hunter in charge, and then an episode later we get to see one of the darker moments in Star Wars where Crosshair handles the same exact mission. This is done on purpose to set the stage for the real conflict, the same kind of conflict that makes Star Wars so good: that of good and evil. Anakin and Obi-Wan fighting (twice) over good and evil. Luke Skywalker ultimately redeeming his father from a lifetime of evil. The Rebellion against the evil Empire. These are the essential ingredients to a Star Wars recipe, and only the notion that this was caused by free will is what makes the story so interesting. Which brings me so succinctly to my next point. If the idea of Wrecker unwillingly hurting a member of his crew is painful, then here’s the punch to the gut: What if Crosshair’s inhibitor chip never activated with the onset of Order 66?
Think
about it. He might have stated that “Good soldiers follow orders”
like every other Clone affected by the order, but he never said it
like he was being mind controlled—rather, he said it like he truly
believed it. Snipers have, for a very long time, been considered to
be the most callous enemies on the battlefield. It’s long been a
trope that snipers are cold-hearted, apathetic, and even outright
sociopathic. This trait hasn’t been exactly subtle with Crosshair,
either. It would be a fascinating contrast to see a Clone who is
being “redeemed” by his comrades, but it turns out that he never
needed the chip to believe what he does. In fact, he vehemently
argues against Hunter’s words in the pilot! It
might take a chip for a Clone to drone on that good soldiers follow
orders, but it takes a true believer to become an
impassioned orator
in that view’s defense. And who better to do this than a
cold-hearted Sniper who compartmentalizes his very dark and
possibly-enjoyable
job by hiding behind “I was just following orders”? Imagine
everybody coming in to save Crosshair, only for him to stab them in
the back as soon as he
lulls them into a sense of false-security.
The tragedy of Order 66 could then say, “Now I am complete”, and
the next phase of the Empire can begin—with or without Crosshair or
the Bad Batch...
MtG reference, what up?
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