ANDOR and a Short Note On “Saying It Without Saying It” (Patreon)

1) Yes, I’m watching ANDOR and 2) Yes, I’m loving it and 4) Yes, I will have a big piece on it when it finishes. But given how much people are adoring that last super smart last episode and pumping their damn fists at its fantastic little ending, I thought it was a good time to single out why that last line hits so hard - and why the show is so damn good at dialogue in general.

Because it’s a perfect example of “saying it without saying it.”

I realize that dialogue is probably the arena of writing I’ve talked about the least? But I think that’s just because it’s a little harder to talk about. It’s kind of like aesthetics in that way, where it’s hard to readily identify certain qualities without getting really, really granular and / or talking about matters of specific taste. That being said, I don’t think it does a good service to ANYONE to just chalk success up to some magical thing where some people “have an ear” for dialogue and some don’t. But I get why some Hollywood types like to reinforce this belief. Just as I get why people believe it. Because it’s hard to get anyone to understand truncated comic rhythms of the Coen’s dialogue. Just as it’s hard to explain to people why Tarantino’s verbose conversations sustain themselves while the host of his imitators often fell flat (simple version: all those writers understand structural tete-e-tete and therefore / but-ing they layer underneath their relative styles). But this isn’t really about them. The point I want to re-enforce is that anyone can find their own “ear” for dialogue simply by stripping away a lot of bad habits. Things like taking out natural speech of “ums, likes, and ya knows” / removing forced pauses / and learning to read their dialogue out-loud constantly. But absolutely one of the best skills that anyone can start applying is “saying it without saying it.”

For example, one of the things you often want to avoid is having two characters say is “I love you” to one another. Not because they don’t love each other, but because it’s rote, basic, and doesn’t make it feel lived in. So you want to find a really human way of showing that instead. For instance, if they’re in a rush in the morning, show that they take the time to look each other in the eyes and communicate and show appreciation for how the other is feeling (which says so much more than the words). And if you have to say it, even little things amp it up, like having one character exclaim the words because the other picked up pizza for dinner as a surprise or something. These things may seem small, but they knock down the formality and they show a more organic world. More importantly, it shows that it’s not WHAT they feel, but how these words and actions get you closer to how they think about each other. Better yet, they’re behavioral actions. And I did not choose the “I love you” line by accident, as it is central to one of the most infamous line exchanges in all of Star Wars…

“I love you.” / “I know.”

Sure, it’s a good response because it’s emblematic of Han’s characterization and bravado, especially in this moment on the edge of death. But what it really does is it deepens the context of things you’ve just seen. Because it tells us that throughout this entire terrible series of events in the film, he really has known how she feels. And he doesn’t even have to say it back. Because, of course, he loves her, too. They’re just precisely the kind of stubborn, headstrong people that seem to fall in love and, more importantly, audiences like to watch fall in love. The “I know” is just more cathartic ammo for the whole dynamic between them. It says all the things without having to say them.

Thus far, ANDOR has been so damn good at this kind of dialogue (this is what happens when you hire top tier writing talent like the Gilroys, Willimon, and Schiff). Sometimes it's great little pointed exchanges that move the plot forward, like “It’ll tear the team apart.’ / “Then it’s not a good team.” Sometimes it’s the polite chatter of Mon Motha’s high society and its endless need for coy double speak, like when she needs to hide her activity and make “appear to be another of my banal and useless irritations.” These things are fun and pithy, but even better is when a character lets you understand more about them and their history. When one character is talking about their disinterest in whining, they say “my mother is a whiner and that will cure you.” It seems like a small joke, but you really can suddenly imagine a whole life beforehand. That’s the whole idea of saying a line that goes a mile deep. Similarly, when referencing how he ended up in prison, one character said of the Empire, “they built a lot of cages,” which tells you everything in short. Because he likely got caught up in something or other, but that’s not important to him. The point is that the system was looking to incarcerate as many as possible and that’s really what got him stuck in there. It doesn’t just give us information, but a viewpoint. And often, a driving action which moves the story forward with understanding.

That’s the reason I felt compelled to write this short little column was the fantastic last line of episode nine, titled “Nobody Listens!” [spoilers for latest episode]. There’s so many great bits of fascistic insight in the conversations throughout the episode and how they’re all being forgotten about. And you get the sense that this powder keg of a prison is ready to blow. But the whole time, Andy Serkis is the man trying to keep them on the path of obedience. He’s so close. And trying to finish his last shifts. Trying to keep his teams producing gear. Put the head down. Do the work. Get out. Repeat. Andor keeps trying to convince Serkis that this won’t do. He keeps trying to get information from him about how many guards there are, but Serkis only responds: “thinking like that will get you killed.” You can see the way he’s just closed himself off completely and he’s not going to let them ruin the hope of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The episode keeps layering more and more tension with the stroke on the floor and the seeming riots. And in the end, they both learn it’s the opposite: No one’s getting out. Not anymore. And doing nothing is what is going to get them killed. Suddenly, as they walk back, Andor asks the question again: “how many guards?”

“Never more than twelve.”

Boom! Cut to credits! What’s so electric about the moment isn’t just the execution, but how much it says without saying it. If he shouted “let’s get em!” it would be so rote. But this is so much more informative and character-centric. This shows you he is finally ready. It also shows you that he’s thought about before. That he knows the system perfectly. That’s he’s counted. And most importantly, he’s telling them that he knows all these prisoners can overtake them. Which is the perfect kind of an amp up line because it gives us what we need to precisely imagine the conflict that is going to be happening next.

Note that these moments are not cheap cliffhangers. The moment is everything about good transitional drama and storytelling within an episode of television. It’s honestly the kind of thing that Breaking Bad was really good at. We like to think what made the show compelling week to week was the big action beats or robberies, but no. It was little ending transitional moments like “tread lightly” that stuck out because they were so good at changing the relationships and moving things forward. Here it’s the same thing. We kept worrying about some outside conflict crashing into Andor’s world, but in the end, the episode was about changing the mind of one man. And for the audience, it was about experiencing the catharsis of that mind being changed. And now we’re fully ready and ten times more invested for the prison break that will follow.

This is the benefit of crafting lines that feel a mile deep.

Can’t wait until next week.

<3HULK