I have a bit of a pet peeve: that is the overuse of the word "iconic." There's this growing tendency to use it interchangeably with "familiar" or "recognizable." The problem is the semantic difference matters, even in the abstract. It's like how in the mid-naughts everything became "epic." But if everything is epic how can anything really be? The same goes for "iconic."
And I've seen this trend to be especially true within the Star Wars fandom. So much of the general franchise proprietary and paraphernalia has been deemed "iconic" that its significance and/or importance has been blown out of proportion.
Take Boba Fett himself, for example. Here's a guy who - thanks to a toy - became really popular with young fans despite only having a few moments of screen time. And his notoriety and popularity only grew over the years. And then he got a dad and a culture from which he came, spread across several different forms of media. His familiarity with the fandom only grew. But did he ever become "iconic"? No. It may seem like a foreign concept to us crazy fuckers who know what a Taung is and can identify the Mythosaur by name, but to the greater populous - even when only including those who've seen anything Star Wars the T-Visor is an unfamiliar image. And Boba Fett isn't much more than a name and a face. And even the latter is a bit fragile as how many people could actually identify TemMorr on sight? But the Mando has neither of those things. He's just a voice wearing a familiar suit of armor.
Star Wars has a lot of voices. 3PO, Darth Vader, Chewie (in his own way). And these voices are all paired with a name and a figure, both of which have become very familiar. But are they 'iconic?' Eh. Vader (at least his helmet) has the best case. But what about what's underneath? Messrs Daniels, Mayhew, Prowse and Jones. (And for the sake of where I'm going with this, you can throw Kenny B. in there too.) Once again, beyond us crazy fuckers, how many people who've seen Star Wars could identify them on sight? To most people, they're nameless and faceless. But they're all as integral to the story and their characters as Hamill, Fisher, and Ford. You know, the ones under the lights - or in the limelight.
**Now the one obvious exception here is JEJ. But I would argue that he didn't become as familiar or recognizable from his face/person until Field of Dreams, which was half a decade after the fact.
Oops. I forgot one. The little green dude. Yet again, a really familiar voice, familiar image, and a name. Is he iconic? Umm.. Maybe? But we're getting ahead ourselves. Instead, let's talk about Frank Oz. I wasn't quite alive at the time - but I have to think he was fairly well known by the time. From what I've always understood, Fozzie was one of the most popular of the group and by the time of Empire, the show had been on several years and the first two films had already come out. So I have to figure that he was more well-known (at the time) than any of the others I mentioned. But here's the thing, he had that small cameo in Trading Places a couple of years later. Did very many people recognize him before he started talking? Because that's the thing about Oz; he has a very distinct timbre to his voice. And on top of that, Yoda has a very distinct way of speaking. But so is his appearance
Back to the previous characters I mentioned. In the real world, they're all recognizable with diminishing results the further away you get to the core audience. (As are the actors who play them.) But in-universe, Chewie and 3P0 aren't distinguishable in any way. Protocol droids all kind of look the same. Sure some are gold plated and some are chrome. But the design is all pretty much the same. And a lot of them sound like Tony Daniels too. And while Wookies to have differences in their appearance, I think it would be hard to [in-universe] go to Kashyyyk and pick out Chewie if he wasn't sporting his baldric and bowcaster. And I have no idea how different their growls are supposed to sound in-universe. Each is recognizable with diminishing results the further you get outside the core ‘family.’
The point is, in-universe they completely blend into the crowd, such that they too are faceless. And of course, T-Visors, despite having their own accouterment, are all homogeneous. The Mandalorians’ faces are all the same. And each person is recognized with diminishing results the further you get away from their immediate clan members. To the point that, when Mando gets out into the greater galaxy doing his thing, he’s just a voice. He has no face. He has no name.
Yoda is the Star Wars voice. And I think his image is the most “iconic” out of anything else in the franchise. That is, I believe that if you were to go out of the greater parts of the world and show people a lightsaber, Vader’s helmet, and a Yoda doll, it’s the Yoda doll that would be the most recognized. Because I think that’s the adorable little green dude that resonates the most the further you get from the core audience. And I also think Yoda-speak resonates very well with “fair-weather” (For lack of a better term.) fans.
It’s to that end, that I truly think Yoda is the “face of the franchise.” He is the most universally beloved character, both inside and outside the immediate fandom. And he is the leader of the heroes - those who stand in the light. (Or in the limelight as it were.)
You know who also loved the limelight? Apollo Creed. Probably the most Star Warsy non-Star Wars character contemporary to the OT.
And what does the show do in its opening minutes? Sits our taciturn hero in a face-off with the man whose arm makes-up 50% of one of the most popular internet memes and who once - like Ani and Luke before him - famously lost a hand. Action Jackson himself. That’s right Carl “No Playin’ no Jiven’, There is no Tomorrow, Eye of the Fucking Tiger” Weathers. And he’s every bit as flamboyant and loud as you’d expect him to be. And he has a name. And a face. And his voice invokes characteristics of great Star Wars characters before him. He exists in the limelight. Feeds off of it, even. But he’s not a hero. And despite his best efforts, the nameless faceless one barely says ten words to him.
In fact, for someone whose only distinct form of identification [#youdon’tneedtosee…] is his voice, Mando says very little. He purposely stays out of the limelight. “Under the beam”. And his job is very mundane and blue-collar in a Star Warsy kind of way. He doesn’t seek to be a hero or fame or anything of that sort.
And yet here we finally are: the little, little green dude. This tiny little being who embodies the ‘face’ of the franchise has a tiny, distorted face; and whose voice of the franchise has no voice; and who is the leader of heroes who is completely helpless and entire existence dependant on the nameless, faceless one.
Star Wars couldn’t exist without the Mayhews and the Bakers and the Daniels and all countless men and women you see in those production photos whose names you don’t know, whose voices you never hear, and who faces you can barely pick out from one and another. They don’t seek the limelight, but they’re are every bit the Star Wars heroes as Lucas, Hamill, Fisher, and Ford.
The Mandalorian isn’t about something? Bullshit.
As far as episode five, well the Mando meets the greener than green flamboyant (In an overly obnoxious) way wannabe and the team-up. Toro, as we eventually learn, wants to “become legendary.” He seeks the limelight.
They’re after an assassin whose MO is sniping. Snipers like to stay in the shadows. They don’t seek the limelight. She has them pinned down. They execute their plan that involves Mando tossing a flashbang grenade. The assassin is exposed to the light. She is forced to take off her helmet #nottheway and … Hey, it’s Ming-Na!* Anyway, the moment she is forced to remove her helmet the battle is over. Mando has won.
Then we get to the end. Toro seeks the light. Mando shines it on him. The battle is over.
*And despite MNW having become fairly recognizable - especially thanks to that show about Tahiti - it's worth noting that her most famous role remains one that involved only her voice.
