Thanks, Jedi

Skeleton Crew Season 1 Episode 6 "Zero Friends Again"

SPOILERS, JEDI

In the ninth episode of the second season of The Bad Batch, Tech sits with Omega and they have a chat about how Tech’s seeming emotional detachment. He explains that even though he processes things differently, he still feels them just as deeply as anyone else. It’s a scene where Star Wars represents neurodivergence in a contemporary, gentle way. I imagine many parents of autistic children (or those same adults with autism, too) appreciated this pop culture fantasy giving voice to their experience.

In “Zero Friends Again,” the sixth episode of Skeleton Crew, we’re again treated to Star Wars in this mode, and it makes for the perfect follow up to last week’s pure adventure.

We do not find the children pursued by Jod. Instead, they’re dumped at the base of what was once Skull Ridge Mountain. They’re in the rocky, white plains just beyond the glittering spa, where trash of the wealthy being dumped. Their ship is a mile climb above them. They’re abandoned and unsure of what to do next.

The ultra-capable Fern insists that they all climb up the side of the ridge. Wim, ever distractable, finds little chatting trash crabs at his feet, says he thinks they’re ‘locals’, and that a better idea is to follow these little creatures to some help. (This turns out to be a predictably not good idea and Neel immediately clocks it as such.) Wim also says, fairly, that the climb is dangerous. Fern insists that they should try the dangerous climb. Neel wants to stick together and stick with Fern, even if the climb is more than he can handle.

Then, KB, who has been Fern’s loyal right hand the entire series, stands apart. She confronts Fern about the fact that Fern won’t consider other ideas. She tells her she’s going with Wim instead. The foursome splits up.

These two pairings (Fern and Neel; Wim and KB) give the series time to deepen our relationship with them in a new context. Wim and KB, especially, who share a scene that, like last week’s conversation between Wim and Jod, employs the emotionally resonant dialogue of Myung Joh Wesner to great effect.

KB’s implants, we discover, are not just cybernetic enhancements; but a corrective after an accident. They’re capable of breaking down, corroding, in occasional need of repair. When they’re not working properly, they can render KB immobile, even put her life at risk. She is living, for all intents and purposes, with a disability. She thinks Fern has little patience for people who can’t keep up. She’s afraid that if she admits she has limitation, then Fern will stop being her friend.

In the last episode, Wim tries to wield a lightsaber, like in his stories. It turns into a fiasco. But then, in this episode, without trying to be a hero, Wim is at his most heroic. He listens to KB and offers her comfort, friendship, and help. With care, while listening to directions, he helps KB fix her augmentations. He not only makes her feel accepted and loved, but he does, in fact, save her life. KB thanks him with the words he truly longs to hear: “Thanks, Jedi.”

This really hit home with me. Star Wars isn’t a power fantasy, it’s a fantasy about compassion. Power, in Star Wars, is a suspicious goal, a path to corruption. One doesn’t have to look far to see how power and strength, as goals unto themselves, cause harm. It’s compassion, kindness, openness that are supposed to make one in tune with the Force. It’s not a way of fighting that makes a Jedi; it’s a way of being.

Their scene is one of the best in Star Wars television so far, and I’m sure that, just as in that scene in The Bad Batch, there are parents and kids who really appreciated KB’s sentiments. There’s no shame in acknowledging that not everyone is good at the same things. In fact, there’s acceptance and dignity in it.

Most accommodations for people who live with disabilities quickly become helpful for all. Closed Captions were once an accessibility tool for people who couldn’t hear dialogue. Now I think fully half of my friends use it. Where I live in New York City, the Americans With Disabilities Act has helped make sure that each crosswalk has a curb cut - a dip in the sidewalk that makes it easier for people who use walkers or wheel chairs to get around. Guess who benefits? Everyone. Strollers, laundry carts, everyone benefits when we make the world a little more accessible. Turns out, everyone has different capabilities that don’t fall into neat categories. The more we acknowledge those differences, neurodivergence, physical difference, whatever it may be, the easier we make the world to live in for all.

What KB needs is to have her experience seen and respected. But she also has to learn to express her fears, and trust that her friend will respond with love. And when KB senses that’s what she’s received from Fern, love and friendship, you can just feel the relief and in both characters and actors. That’s one heck of a well-earned hug. This episode really brings out the best in these young performers, a testament to Bryce Dallas Howard’s work.

The other thing that worked in Episode Six? The kids really come together, support each other, cheer each other on, apply what they’ve learned, and win the day by themselves. After they split apart, they come back together in an entertaining action sequence, a series of rescues, and finally, an escape from the jaws of death. (Best line? “It’s too invincible!”) The Onyx Cinder transforms into a new ship entirely, sheds its skin, as the kids shake off their dependence on anyone but each other. As they shakily fly away, it feels like a triumph in every sense.

And wait! Before I go! This episode has a Phil Tippett Studio stop-motion special! Mama Crab, called Tet’niss, is a callback to one of the most important creative voices in Star Wars and I loved seeing it come to life. There’s a great write up on the Star Wars website here.

Don’t skip it!

It’s Tippett!