Nine months after Andor aired its series finale, creator Tony Gilroy is finally saying what Disney wouldn't let him say during the show's original run: it was about fascism. Full stop.
According to The Hollywood Reporter, when Gilroy was promoting the most politically sophisticated Star Wars project ever made, Disney marketing asked him to refrain from using the F-word. Not that F-word—the other one. Fascism.
Let that sink in for a moment. Gilroy made a show about authoritarian surveillance states, political prisoners, corporate collaboration with tyranny, and the moral cost of resistance. The Empire literally rounds people up in camps, executes dissidents in public squares, and tortures civilians for information. But Disney was worried that calling a space-fascist regime "fascist" might be too on the nose.
"It's a show about how fascism takes hold," Gilroy said in the interview, speaking freely now that the corporate muzzle is off. "It's about what happens when people are complicit, when they look away, when they tell themselves it's not their problem until it's too late."
He's not wrong. Andor was the rare blockbuster franchise entry that treated its audience like adults capable of recognizing historical parallels. While other Star Wars projects were busy with fan service and Skywalker nostalgia, Gilroy made a 12-hour meditation on how democracies collapse and why revolutions matter.
And Disney was terrified of it.
The corporate sanitization makes a certain cynical sense. Disney+ operates in dozens of countries with varying tolerance for political content. Calling out fascism by name when you're trying to sell subscriptions in markets with, shall we say, complicated relationships with authoritarianism? That's bad for business.
But it's also creatively suffocating. Gilroy, who wrote Michael Clayton and The Bourne Legacy, isn't exactly known for pulling punches. The man understands institutional corruption at a molecular level. Asking him to make a show about tyranny without naming it is like asking Sorkin to write a walk-and-talk without dialogue.
The irony, of course, is that Andor became the most critically acclaimed Star Wars project in years despite the marketing restrictions. Or maybe because of them—the show's refusal to spoon-feed its politics made viewers work for the parallels, which made the parallels hit harder.
Now that Gilroy can speak plainly, the show feels scarily prescient. Which, honestly, should terrify Disney more than any F-word ever could.





