107 Andor (2022-2025)
The Allegorical Power of Andor: A Cinematic Resistance to Oppression
by Nabeel Shariff
In an age marked by political unrest and increasing global oppression, popular media often serves as both a mirror and a moral barometer. Andor, a Disney+ series set within the Star Wars universe (Season 1, 2022 and Season 2025), distinguishes itself not merely as entertainment but as a searing critique of authoritarianism, surveillance, and systemic violence. Through its allegorical structure, the show offers audiences a reflection of real-world struggles, particularly as conflicts in places like Gaza and Sudan continue to escalate. In this essay, I examine how Andor functions as a sophisticated anti-oppression text by thoughtfully encoding themes of difference, power, and discrimination, while offering a nuanced exploration of moral resistance.
Andor resists conventional tropes of heroism by embracing moral complexity. Characters like Cassian Andor, Mon Mothma, Luthen Rael, and Bix Caleen occupy spaces of contradiction and growth, each representing different aspects of ethical struggle and sociopolitical marginalization. These trajectories reflect the intersectionality of gender, class, ethnicity, and power in profound ways.
For example, Mon Mothma’s political compromise, betrothing her daughter for influence and much-needed funds, exemplifies how patriarchy and elitism persist even within resistance movements. Bix Caleen’s psychological torture by the Empire reflects the specific ways authoritarian regimes target and silence women. As bell hooks writes, “patriarchy has no gender,” a truth Andor skillfully dramatizes by showing how systems of power reproduce oppression even within ostensibly just causes (hooks, 2000).
Visually, the series enhances these messages through restrained cinematography. Wide shots, stark lighting, and minimalist design create a sense of alienation that mirrors the characters’ inner worlds. Kristen Warner identifies this as a technique of “aesthetic cues” that encode critique without overt dialogue, and Andor embodies this strategy throughout (Warner, 2015).
Additionally, Power in Andor is depicted not only through spectacle but through systems, especially bureaucracy. Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader remain largely unseen, emphasizing that tyranny often operates through invisible structures of regulation, fear, and conformity. Figures like Dedra Meero and Cyril Karn illustrate how individuals can internalize and propagate authoritarianism. Dedra’s rise is grounded in institutional meritocracy, not overt villainy, and Cyril’s desperation for control exposes how insecurity feeds ideology. Hannah Arendt’s concept of the “banality of evil”, where atrocities arise from ordinary obedience, resonates powerfully here (Arendt, 1963).
Luthen Rael, on the other hand, embodies the cost of rebellion. His willingness to deceive and sacrifice for the greater good introduces a philosophical dilemma: Can ethical means ever suffice in the face of systemic evil? His character demonstrates that resistance demands personal cost, strategic ambiguity, and an acceptance of imperfect choices. Andor’s representation of oppression is systemic and relentless. Cassian’s arrest for a non-crime, the labor camps on Narkina 5, and the Empire’s colonial treatment of Ferrix all parallel real-world legacies of incarceration, forced labor, and settler violence. The Ghorman massacre alludes to events such as apartheid-era killings and the systemic brutality seen in modern occupied territories. The series avoids simplistic resolutions. Resistance is shown not as triumphant but as fragmented and painful. This realism mirrors the actual history of anti-colonial movements, where success was incremental and moral clarity elusive.
Furthermore, the show’s use of sound is particularly effective. The mechanical rhythm of the prison, the muted screams during torture, and the ambient dread before uprisings all create an emotional atmosphere that conveys oppression more effectively than exposition. Mise-en-scène and diegetic audio are deployed as rhetorical tools, enriching the show’s thematic weight.
However, while widely praised, Andor has also faced criticism for its contemplative pacing and lack of traditional action. These critiques, however, miss the show’s deeper ambitions. Its measured pace allows for rich character development and exploration of complex themes. As Henry Jenkins argues, “popular culture can serve as a site of negotiation, critique, and empowerment,” and Andor exemplifies this potential (Jenkins, 2006). The claim that Andor uses resistance aesthetics for profit fails to acknowledge how rare such narratives are in mainstream franchises. Rather than exploiting political themes, the series integrates them with nuance and integrity. Its refusal to offer easy catharsis is precisely what makes it resonate as a political text.
To add, my connection to Andor is both intellectual and personal. As a Muslim witnessing increasing authoritarianism and state violence, I often feel silenced and overwhelmed. Andor gave voice to that silence. It presented rebellion not as spectacle, but as emotional labor, moral risk, and quiet perseverance. Where I previously found thematic depth in Attack on Titan, another series rooted in allegory, Andor felt more immediate, and its realism aligned more with the world I recognize. It helped me frame resistance as an ongoing, imperfect practice. It affirmed the value of speaking up, even when the cost is high and the outcome uncertain.
In conclusion, Andor challenges the conventions of science fiction and the comfort of escapism. Through its nuanced portrayal of difference, power, and discrimination, the show repositions media as a tool for ethical inquiry and political engagement. It doesn’t offer tidy answers but invites difficult questions. By embedding these messages into its characters, narrative structure, and visual language, Andor becomes more than a series, it becomes a statement. It asks us not only to observe, but to reflect. Not only to enjoy, but to respond. In an age that often rewards apathy, Andor is a cinematic act of resistance.
References
Arendt, Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. Penguin Books, 1963.
hooks, bell. Feminism is for Everybody: Passionate Politics. South End Press, 2000.
Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. NYU Press, 2006.
Warner, Kristen J. The Cultural Politics of Colorblind TV Casting. Routledge, 2015.
