The Greatest Star Wars Moments Of 2022

2022 was full of more surprises than a trash-talking son of Skywalker, and that's just on the "Star Wars" side of things — to say nothing of the strangeness that unfolded in our own galaxy these last 12 months.

Case in point? The long-awaited Boba Fett "solo" project didn't really hit its stride until another character hijacked Boba's turn to have the spotlight, the best "Star Wars" releases of the year were a prequel to a prequel and a sequel to a prequel, and Studio Ghibli casually dropped an animated Grogu short like it was no big deal. It was also a period of vindication for members of the "Dooku Was (Mostly) Right" club, as well as one that saw the residents of a galaxy far, far away drop s-bombs, have casual sex, and get hassled by their parents about their lack of job prospects. Turns out, "Star Wars" people actually are just like us.

As the wait continues for the next movie (whatever it might be), it fell to a motley pack of "Star Wars" series on Disney+ to give everyone their fix of space wizard duels, freedom fighters battling fascists, and mercenaries eking out a living in 2022. At first, the franchise stumbled in ways both familiar and new to the Disney era (which turned 10 years old back in October), only for things to turn around in the latter half, culminating in some of the most radical "Star Wars" storytelling ever. In light of this, let's revisit the greatest "Star Wars" moments from the last 12 months — not only in terms of how they evolved the property for the better, but also how they kept it relevant to the real world.

"The Book of Boba Fett" was, in this writer's humble opinion, an interesting yet muddled exercise in shared universe storytelling that would've been better off as either a shorter and more focused limited series or as a subplot on "The Mandalorian." It did, however, succeed in reminding everyone why Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal) is now our favorite laconic Mandalorian helmet-wearing bounty hunter.

Din made his grand return in the show's aptly-titled fifth episode, "Return of the Mandalorian," which finds our beloved "Mando" foundling tracking down and slaying the Klatooinian boss of a meat-packing facility, Kaba Baiz. Their tussle is the type of lean, mean action scene we've come to expect from "The Mandalorian" and its space western meets samurai movie vibe. But it also remains true to Din's working-class code of honor by having the character — having only just killed and decapitated his quarry — offer Kaba's startled workers whatever New Republic credits they feel they're owed by their late employer in exchange for letting him pass. It's that ethical flexibility that makes Din a fitting "Star Wars" protagonist for our times. That and the fact that he remains an utter himbo who might've walked away injury-free from the whole thing, had he not sliced his leg with his own weapon.

It's to Ewan McGregor's credit as an actor that he imbues his scenes as Obi-Wan Kenobi in the "Star Wars" prequel trilogy with a pathos that's otherwise lacking from George Lucas' politically prescient yet weirdly stilted films. This is also the reason why fans spent years beating the drum for a midquel centered on the Jedi Knight during his years living in exile on Tatooine, the memory of his pupil's fall to the dark side still a fresh wound in his mind. And sure enough, McGregor proved more than ready for the challenge on "Obi-Wan Kenobi," delivering the type of eloquently contained performance where a simple glance says more about the maelstrom of emotions his character is wrestling with than any amount of dialogue could.

While there are plenty of great moments to choose from in terms of McGregor's work on the show, the one that's stayed with me the most is his exchange with the rogue Jedi Nari (Benny Safdie). The weary yet firm resolve with which Obi-Wan tells his fellow fugitive to stay hidden if he wants to survive ("The fight is done. We lost.") makes him feel more human than almost the entirety of the prequels by itself. This variety of "Sad Old Hero" story can be polarizing in the context of "Star Wars" — just ask Rian Johnson! — but just as there's no light without the dark, one must grapple with the power of hopelessness before they can fully grasp the value of hope.

One of my least favorite "Star Wars" tropes is "Character who fell to the dark side dies after a single decent act." It's an oddly backward approach to the concept of redemption that, at worst, seems to suggest the best thing a person can do after seeing the error of their ways is to die a noble death rather than lead a better life. You can imagine my relief, then, when "Obi-Wan Kenobi" subverted that motif with the Inquisitor Reva.

A former Youngling who watched Anakin Skywalker murder her fellow Jedi-in-training during Order 66, Reva's villainy felt like a bit of an act from the get-go, which made it all the more fitting when the show revealed it was exactly that. By that same token, Moses Ingram does a top-notch job of showing the ever-growing cracks in Reva's armor with her performance, capping off with the riveting scene in which she finds herself unable to kill a young Luke in the series' finale. When the crestfallen Reva asks Obi-Wan if she has become Darth Vader all the same, he gently replies, "No. You have chosen not to. Who you become now, that is up to you."

Give me a moment like that — one that argues the best thing anyone can do is to keep on trying to do better (on top of, in Reva's case, learning to show herself the compassion she deserves for all she's endured) — over some nonsense about how "You can only redeem so much" any day.

A social revolutionary who was right to speak out against the ineffectuality of the Galactic Senate and the Jedi Order's complicity in the corrosion of democracy in the Old Republic, Count Dooku has always been one of the more tragic figures in "Star Wars." Over the span of three 15-minute episodes, "Tales of the Jedi" illustrates the extent of this tragedy in a way that no other live-action film or animated series has managed to before it, lending a rich air of gravitas to the saga of this particular Fallen Jedi. But as devastating as it is to watch Dooku solidify his turn to the dark side, it's a subtler, quieter moment that's really stuck with me.

Upon learning of the death of his former Padawan Qui-Gon Jinn in the episode "The Sith Lord," Dooku (Corey Burton) stands alone gazing at the Great Tree near the Jedi Temple, recalling how Qui-Gon was fascinated by the plant as a boy. Having been born on the city-planet Coruscant "he knew nothing like it," Dooku notes to an onlooking Jedi Master Yaddle. It's a moment that says so much with so little, like how the Jedi Order has been hamstrung by its diminished ties to nature over time. But most of all, it's the understated sense of sadness (coupled with the fact that, as a member of the Jedi Council, Dooku isn't granted the room he needs to properly grieve) that makes this scene so impactful.

"Rogue One: A Star Wars Story" remains my favorite Disney-era "Star Wars" movie for the way it zeroes in on characters who are not destined to be remembered by history as "legends," but those who helped clear the way for such "legends" to save the day. Its prequel series, "Andor," has only hit on this motif even harder, showing the pivotal role the people closest to Cassian Andor (those who are never mentioned, much less seen in the Skywalker Saga) played in guiding his journey from cynical survivalist to earnest Rebel. And it's not just his family and friends, either, but those whom history is likely to forget about completely. Yes, it's time to talk about Kino Loy.

Played by Andy Serkis (who's splendid as ever), Kino has deluded himself into thinking he can beat the Imperials at their own game by working himself to the bone and obeying their every whim as a floor manager at the prison where he resides on Narkina 5. An all too apt parable for our own real-life prison industrial complex, the Narkina arc on "Andor" climaxes when Kino — having finally seen the light — aids Cassian in executing his escape plan, even delivering a rousing speech that inspires their fellow prisoners to join them in their breakout. If you don't find yourself wanting to chant "One way out!" with the rest of the escapees as they flee the facility, you may want to double-check your pulse

To quote screenwriter Aaron Stewart-Ahn, "Maybe the best message I've heard from a TV show ever is f*** lightsabers, get a brick."

The death of Cassian's adopted mother Maarva was as crushing as it was inevitable on "Andor," as were the reactions from those closest to her (be it the world's bestest boy B2-EMO crying to see her again or the silent anguish with which Cassian receives the news). In a move that allows her to take back control of her own narrative from beyond the grave, Maarva has her ever-faithful droid companion record a hologram message to show at her funeral, calling for the people of Ferrix to not only make their peace with her passing, but to actively take up arms against the Galactic Empire. It's one of the all-time greatest "Star Wars" speeches, with Fiona Shaw doing a magnificent job of delivering every shift in Maarva's tone, from amicability with her death to her righteous anger and regret at having too often kowtowed to the Imperials in life.

Would this fabulous moment — in which Maarva somewhat literally joins the fight when Brasso (Joplin Sibtain) uses the brick made from her remains to smash an Imperial in the face — have been ever better if Shaw had capped it off with an f-bomb as originally intended? Absolutely! But it's still pretty darn terrific without that.