Skeleton Crew

Skeleton Crew is the latest in Disney's and Lucasfilm's expanding lineup of Star Wars stories, each taking place in different eras of the vast sci-fi-fantasy mythology. The results, while often admirable, have been a mixed bag. Even as the highs are high (Andor), and the most disappointing seasons (Mandalorian 2-3, Ahsoka) have something to love about them, it still feels like Lucasfilm is uncertain where it wants to take their galaxy far, far away.

I hope that won't happen with Skeleton Crew, which arrives on the streaming platform today and continues for eight episodes over the coming weeks. Because this is the most fun Star Wars has felt in years. It's a joyous adventure story for the whole family that made me grin like a fool throughout every episode sent for review.

Like Star Wars at its best, Skeleton Crew is a collection of influences beautifully stitched together. In its DNA, you can find traces of Goonies, Stand By Me, and even Ferris Bueller's Day Off. But more than that, Skeleton Crew is a pirate story that owes much to Robert Louis Stevenson's masterpiece, Treasure Island.

We start on an unknown planet the likes of which we haven't seen before. It's almost unnerving how idyllic it is, with endless rows of Spielbergian suburbs stretching in every direction. People walk their dogs, kids ride hoverbikes at sunset, and parental figures are busy at work. It's everything we've come to expect from the Amblin experience as seen in Goonies and E.T..

Naturally, this doesn't last, and underneath the glossy exterior lie buried secrets that our intrepid heroes – a collection of outcast kids, of course – stumble onto. They find themselves stuck on a starship, helmed by an abandoned droid called SM-33 (Nick Frost), far from home in a galaxy that believes their planet to be a myth. It's here that Skeleton Crew begins in earnest as an adventure on the high seas (or stars, I guess).

We meet a colorful band of pirates, led by the delightfully weaselly Jude Law. Part Long John Silver, part Jack Sparrow with a helping of Han Solo, Law's Jod Na Nawood is a wonderful addition to the roster of Star Wars antiheroes. The kind of rogue with a heart of, well, not gold, but something other than the dark void they claim it to be. He brings a devilish energy to every scene and plays off superbly with the young cast of heroes.

The young cast; Ravi Cabot-Conyers as Wim, Ryan Kiera Armstrong as Fern, Kyriana Kratter as KB, and Robert Timothy Smith as Neel, is uniformly excellent, too. It's wonderful to see kids allowed to act like and look like kids since, after all, this is a fantasy franchise for them. During the first episode, I kept thinking about why something felt different about this show compared to others like it. Then, I realized it was because these are heroes who behave act their age. They make mistakes, they bicker, they get scared, and they stick together. There's a chaotic energy that, once again, reminds me of Goonies in the best possible way.

If there's something to gripe about, it's the same old problem that every streaming series to date has. Skeleton Crew's pacing is all over the place. It is, once again, a feature film cut into eight episodes. It doesn't feel like a TV series, nor does it feel like a film. Instead, its episodic format prevents the show from finding a rhythm and sticking to it. Just as we get into the groove in an amazing pirate haven, it's already time to move to the next place. One of my favorite new Star Wars additions – a space owl that keeps records of galactic history – surely deserves more than a few minutes of an already short episode.

Despite this, I had so much fun with Skeleton Crew that even the pacing issues felt less of a problem than with other Star Wars series to date. Granted, I'm a sucker for anything pirate-related, and on that front, the show delivers by the boatload.

Happily, Skeleton Crew is more than just a collection of references to other material. It is, at its core, a heartfelt coming-of-age story. The kind that Star Wars was originally built to be. It understands the early complexities of becoming a teenager, and how those first steps into adulthood can feel insurmountable. The smart script blows these fears up into a grand galactic adventure full of danger and wonder, yet never loses sight of what makes it so personal.

And it's fun, so very fun. Can we have ten more just like it, please?