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Now Playing: The Mandalorian and Grogu

This is the way

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The Mandalorian and Grogu
Image from StarWars.com

It’s been a while since a Star Wars movie made me walk out of a cinema feeling genuinely pumped. Not necessarily emotional nor mind-blown. And not even scrambling to re-evaluate the entire franchise. Just… pumped.

The Mandalorian and Grogu feels like a proper Star Wars blockbuster again. The kind built for crowded cinemas, loud reactions, and collective gasps during action sequences. More importantly, it feels approachable in a way the franchise hasn’t always managed to be lately.

As someone whose interest in Star Wars slowly waned after The Rise of Skywalker, this movie felt oddly refreshing.

I watched the film alongside occasional GadgetMatch contributor Dawn, whose relationship with Star Wars sits somewhere adjacent to mine. Familiar with the Skywalker Saga and select spin-offs, but not necessarily deep into every corner of the lore either. Not because it reinvented the wheel. Quite the opposite, actually. It understood exactly what kind of movie it wanted to be.

I came into the film fairly blind. No rewatches, just a little prep work, and no “required viewing” marathons beforehand. And somehow, none of that really mattered.

Even without context from multiple seasons of Disney+ shows, Din Djarin and Grogu’s bond clicks almost immediately. You don’t need a detailed explanation for why these two care deeply about each other. The movie trusts viewers enough to simply accept their connection and move forward.

Grogu also remains ABSOLUTELY THE CUTEST. No further notes.

Well, maybe one more note.

That little guy carries an absurd amount of emotional weight throughout the movie. Whether he’s unintentionally causing chaos, silently reacting to situations, or simply existing onscreen, he consistently draws laughs and reactions from the audience.

There’s one sequence in particular where Grogu takes care of Din that managed to get a few giggles. It’s a small moment, but one that perfectly captures why this duo works. They don’t feel manufactured. They just feel natural.

Safe storytelling done right

One thing we kept coming back to after the screening was how easy the movie was to watch. Not “easy” in a dismissive way. More accessible and comfortable.

It’s the kind of blockbuster that lets you settle into the experience without requiring homework beforehand.

One observation that stood out during our post-movie discussion was describing the film as a “palate cleanser spin-off.” Despite growing up with the Skywalker Saga and several Star Wars spin-offs herself, she appreciated how welcoming the film felt.

“It’s interesting enough to lure you back into the lore and fall back into love with the franchise,” she said.

That really captures the movie’s biggest strength.

The Mandalorian and Grogu doesn’t spend its runtime obsessing over lore density or trying to prove how important it is within the larger Star Wars timeline. Instead, it focuses on delivering a straightforward adventure with familiar emotional beats.

Sometimes, that traditional recipe is enough.

There are definitely moments where the story feels predictable. We found ourselves correctly guessing certain developments well before they happened. But surprisingly, that never hurt the experience.

If anything, the predictability made the movie feel oddly comforting.

The film knows when to slow down for tender scenes, when to ramp things up with explosive action, and when to simply let viewers breathe inside its world. There’s also very little visual fatigue throughout the runtime. The pacing stays clean and the movie rarely overstays its welcome.

One of my favorite sequences involved Rotta the Hutt in a gladiator-like setting that weirdly reminded me of Thor: Ragnarok. It was chaotic, funny, and surprisingly entertaining.

Also, I need it on record that I identified with Rotta look-wise.

That comparison was apparently questionable according to my companion for the screening.

A low-friction way back into Star Wars

More than anything else, The Mandalorian and Grogu reminded me why people fell in love with Star Wars in the first place.

Not through endless callbacks or franchise homework. But through companionship, adventure, and a healthy helping of heart.

Underneath all the sci-fi spectacle and action sequences is a story about choosing to care for people even when it might not be the smartest thing to do in the moment. Din and Grogu’s relationship may often get described online as father-and-son, but honestly, they felt more like disproportionately-sized bros constantly looking out for each other.

And somehow, that dynamic works incredibly well.

By the end of the movie, we arrived at almost the same conclusion. We wanted more.

Not necessarily because this was the greatest Star Wars story ever told. It isn’t trying to be. But it successfully reignited interest in a franchise that can sometimes feel daunting from the outside looking in.

One immediate effect of the movie was successfully convincing my co-viewer to finally start The Mandalorian Season 1 once schedules calm down a bit. In the meantime, Grogu doomscrolling on Instagram will apparently suffice.

Meanwhile, I’m suddenly considering diving back into Star Wars shows I skipped over the years. I might check out The Acolyte. Maybe Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maybe even tap into gaming with the adventures of Cal Kestis if time and workload permit.

That’s probably the biggest compliment I can give this movie. It made me want to care again.

For longtime fans, The Mandalorian and Grogu delivers good, clean Star Wars fun with heart and hype.

For newcomers, it offers a surprisingly low-friction entry point into a universe that can otherwise feel overwhelming.

That might be exactly what Star Wars needed right now.

Entertainment

Linkin Park: Unshatter is the band’s kintsugi

Raw, visceral, honest approach on grief, starting again, and moving forward

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All stills courtesy: Linkin Park

When Linkin Park understandably went on an immediate hiatus in 2017 following the tragic death of its frontman Chester Bennington, it felt to millions of fans as though an important part of their lives had been taken away.

For the longest time, the one thing the rock band did exceptionally well was to put into their songs all the untold, unexpressed feelings, emotions, and thoughts of several generations.

That deep resonance made the music stick. When 2017 happened, many felt that connection was gone for good.

Linkin Park: Unshatter magnifies what handling grief looks like from the inside out. It starts with the band members themselves and radiates outward to the community that carried them.

It goes without saying that grief has no single roadmap. And for band co-founder and co-lead vocalist Mike Shinoda, moving forward began with a simple and almost accidental question put out into the open: “What if Linkin Park didn’t have to end?”

Starting again

The documentary-concert film opens with a cinematic rush: a sweeping shot of the Allianz Parque (now Nubank Parque) in São Paulo, Brazil, where Linkin Park is set to perform as part of their From Zero World Tour.

A quick montage follows, capturing the concert day feel as it commences. Viewers get thrown straight onto the stage as “Somewhere I Belong” ignites the crowd.

Then, the mood then shifts abruptly, pulling everyone backward to late 2022 inside Shinoda’s studio.

Here, alongside original members Joe Hahn and Dave “Phoenix” Farrell, the cinematic scale melts away into an unscripted, intimate creative slate. This is where the true documentary tone takes over.

If you have been preoccupied with everyday undertakings, Unshatter acts as an essential catch-up material for the behind-the-scenes evolution that transpired from 2022 to 2024.

It delivers a wealth of candid footage rarely seen outside of close circles, offering fans a fresh perspective right in the eye of the storm. It’s been billed as such, and it does not disappoint.

Part of what makes it grounded and emotionally connecting is the chronological storytelling. As with starting again, you don’t know what is about to happen yet.

The progression, which includes moving from Shinoda’s private quarters to EastWest Studios, the rehearsals and promotional photoshoot, and everything in between, takes you to the build-up and makes every step feel real before the 2024 breakthrough.

Raw, visceral, honest

You can feel the complete absence of a script in these early studio sessions. Shinoda spent the latter half of the previous decade performing on his own, and speaks candidly about how exhausting it was to constantly look backward or perform for “tributes.”

There was no sudden lightbulb moment either. Three veterans simply chose to gather and think things through with a level of organic randomness.

This mirrors how processing grief unfolds in the real world. For Shinoda, much like how he would later describe new new vocalist Emily Armstrong’s voice and personality, the core approach was about being raw, visceral, and honest.

All three knew grief was there. It had been enveloping them all these years and they thought moving away from what defined their lives would do good.

At some point, survival meant acknowledging reality first and then carrying on from there.

Triple lenses

The documentary’s narrative spine relies on three distinct lenses: the OG holdovers, the new members and the uniqueness of Brad Delson’s dynamic with this new iteration.

After the opening third of the film heavily focuses on the OG trio, the arrival of Armstrong and Brittain in the middle act expands the horizon.

Brittain, particularly, initially stepped in as a guitarist to complement Shinoda’s structural ideas. He bares his lifelong fandom on camera, and even offers a striking thought which Shinoda mentions towards the end: that the music industry and the world in general is simply better with Linkin Park in it.

Much like newcomers finding their footing in a sports franchise, Emily and Colin quickly worked together often to hasten the integration process.

Later, Delson is introduced as someone initially reluctant to the thought of restarting Linkin Park. Such resistance was acknowledged though he warms up to the idea and rejoins the fold in the latter stages.

His role changes to an anchor, as if a coaching consultant helping run a franchise at the highest level without necessarily being on the sidelines every single night.

Shinoda was open about the tension this could have caused, weighing whether a non-touring lead guitarist might disrupt the momentum and progress of the comeback build-up.

Yet the film consistently highlights how mature, open, and thoughtful those internal conversations were.

Delson’s eventual return made Colin slide into the drummer role. The transition was handled with surprising economy on screen, much like the brief, respectful nod given to former drummer Rob Bourdon’s departure.

Emily rises From Zero

Armstrong shares the middle act with Brittain, but her journey demands its own lens. And the documentary captures this duality of carrying the inherent weight of stepping into the shoes left by an icon and her energetic personality in the studio as she dances, vocalizes, and throws her soul into the process.

Much has been chronicled about Armstrong’s electrifying voice and the shoes she has had to fill, but the documentary chose to present her entry in a more natural manner.

Rather than being angled towards succession, the documentary spends a huge chunk showing her fit with her new bandmates. There is also a side to it where she is driven to prove herself coming from Dead Sara as a relative “unknown” before the 2024 surprise comeback.

A particular solemn moment captures this stripped down feel, as with the movie in general, even further: Emily singing a radically different rendition of “Heavy Is The Crown” with Shinoda playing the piano.

It’s far different from the high energy final version that has been out for years now, showing the fragile baby steps the band took.

Mike asking Emily at one point if she is open to touring also forces you to reflect on how differently the comeback could have unfolded.

This lens tackles the setlist realities. Songs from One More Light were basically untouchable. The meticulous work required to adjust keys and match Armstrong’s skill set were also shown.

Unshatter is the band’s kintsugi

One neat inclusion features blink-182’s Mark Hoppus, listening to a freshly completed mix of “Unshatter.” Having an industry contemporary validate in real-time that something special has clicked adds massive weight to the proceedings.

You can visibly see how genuinely flattered Shinoda gets when Hoppus tells him he got goosebumps.

The moment acts as the emotional bridge to the film’s ultimate metaphor, as expounded on by Delson towards the end: Linkin Park’s comeback is the band’s kintsugi.

This is, of course, the Japanese pottery tradition of putting broken pieces back together using a gold filling.

Though “Unshatter” wasn’t officially released until 2025, it served as the blueprint for the secret work Linkin Park poured years into.

In one of its most artfully executed transition moments, the film cuts right at the chorus of “The Emptiness Machine” from the high-stakes, breathless tension of their 2024 comeback launch event at Warner Studios, throwing viewers right back into the roaring Allianz Parque.

This was preceded of course by one of the final resonant glimpses of unsuspecting long-time fans transported to Warner Studios in anticipation of what was then only billed as a private gathering.

Proper documentary-concert film

Linkin Park: Unshatter strikes a wonderful balance between candid moments and electrifying concert sequence.

The live performance scenes were woven in seamlessly. Cinematography looked sharp: quick cuts, drone shots, sheer fan emotion. Towards the end, Hahn has his own immersive on-stage camera angles of his teammates.

Yet it never stretches too thin. You wouldn’t want to watch just a live concert. Make no mistake, in a large screen format and with accompanying cinematic audio, the energy just reverberates harder.

The film ends with the aftermath of the live performance of “Bleed it Out” as fireworks erupt across the stadium sky, before it fades into a final line to cap the comeback journey.

An old archival clip of Chester and Mike performing “Esaul”, the earlier version of “A Place For My Head” with lyrics still different also plays as a final touch.

That clip encapsulates the beginnings of one of the century’s most successful rock bands. Decades after, a restart happened.

It was about moving forward, acknowledging grief, but realizing you can make something beautiful while carrying that history with you. The only way to “unshatter” was to be raw, visceral, and honest about what’s going on.

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Computers

Lenovo tech behind DreamWorks Animation hit ‘Forgotten Island’

Partnership powers modern demands of animation production

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DreamWorks Animation’s Forgotten Island has definitely become a big screen hit, debuting with a 100% Rotten Tomatoes score and being well received particularly by a large Filipino fanbase.

And behind the movie is DreamWorks Animation’s partnership with tech giant, Lenovo. The collaboration is helping power the former’s production slate, including the studio’s animated feature inspired by Filipino culture, mythology, and experiences.

In 2025, DreamWorks expanded its relationship with Lenovo by naming the company its preferred compute services, workstation, and solutions provider.

Such partnership brings together Lenovo workstations, high-performance infrastructure, data center technology, and services to support the demanding needs of modern animation production.

It is a collaboration that builds on years of work between the two companies. DreamWorks has used Lenovo workstations as part of workflows across the studio.

Lenovo infrastructure has also supported the large-scale computing requirements involved in creating animated worlds and characters.

Still in cinemas, Forgotten Island follows lifelong best friends Jo and Raissa, voiced by Grammy and Academy Award winner H.E.R. and Filipino actress Liza Soberano.

As the two prepare to take different paths after high school, they unexpectedly find themselves transported to Nakali, a fantastical island populated by magical and mythological creatures rooted in stories from their Filipino families.

The film is written and directed by Academy Award nominee Joel Crawford and Januel Mercado and produced by Academy Award nominee Mark Swift, the filmmaking team behind Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.

Its voice cast also includes Dave Franco, Jenny Slate, Manny Jacinto, Dolly de Leon, Jo Koy, Ronny Chieng, and Lea Salonga.

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Entertainment

SEGA, Netflix announce Crazy Taxi film adaptation

1st in planned slate of film adaptations, including Sonic and STRANGER THAN HEAVEN

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SEGA and Netflix have announced a new Crazy Taxi film adaptation. This will usher in a new collaboration era with the parties also developing adaptations for Sonic and STRANGER THAN HEAVEN.

Such a slate of future adaptations reflects the range of SEGA’s library as it draws on Netflix’s experience bringing beloved game worlds to new audiences.

The first project features Crazy Taxi, which will be written by Dan Gregor and Doug Mand. The beloved writing duo was behind the 2025 reboot of The Naked Gun.

Also on board to help helm the production are the same visionaries behind the Sonic franchise: Neal H. Moritz, Toby Ascher, and Toru Nakahara.

Crazy Taxi has been an arcade hit since 1999, putting players behind the wheel of a fearless cabbie racing the clock through chaotic city streets.

There’s flying off ramps, dodging traffic, and chasing tips with punk-rock energy that has become the series’ signature.

The latest title in the franchise, Crazy Taxi: World Tour, is set for a 2027 release. You can watch its trailer below:

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