So, I finally got to the part in Star Wars Rebels with Grand Admiral Thrawn in it. Thrawn was actually one big reason (though not the only one) why I decided to really get into the two animated series Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars Rebels. When there was a mention of him in The Mandalorian, the fans were so delighted I realised that here was a Class A Imperial villain waiting to be discovered. I knew he was in Rebels, but I suspected I would get more out of this series if I saw Clone Wars first - a fair assumption.
I owe Thrawn some gratitude, as I've had a good time with both series - eventually. I didn't think much of the first one-and-a-half season of Clone Wars (which I watched ages ago), and the first season of Rebels was a slog too. But they picked up, and though Clone Wars had some storylines that weren't too thrilling - I'll not be revisiting the "corruption on Mandalore" plot in a hurry - and the more kid-friendly Rebels can be annoyingly "hey wow, look how cool it is to be a rebel" at times (especially trying when you're not-so-secretly on the Empire's side), there's some really good stuff here for a Star Wars nerd to sink their teeth into. For instance, plenty of delightful villains. When I first heard that they brought Darth Maul back, I thought it sounded silly, seeing as he was - you know - cut in half in The Phantom Menace, but boy was it the right call.
But what about Thrawn, then? Did he live up to the hype? Well... he still might. It's only fair to say that Thrawn doesn't only appear in Star Wars Rebels but in a number of novels too, and may have acquired most of his fan base that way. In Rebels, he shows potential: he's clearly cleverer and more complex than your average Imperial officer. But I'm a good way into season three, which is when he first appears, and he hasn't had a substantial win over the rebels yet. His strategic genius is more talked-about than in evidence. Even with a high-ranking spy in his inner circle, how could he let those important new ship designs go?
It made me reflect on the well-known problem of recurring villains in long-running franchises - like, for instance, multi-season TV series. Fans want them and grow attached to them, but how can you as a villain keep losing to the good guys, as the genre demands, and still be seen as a threat to be taken seriously? Plenty of strategies are deployed which are more or less successful. Here are a handful, not all of them to be recommended:
Winning battles but losing the war: One of the very best options. If you want your long-running villain to be respected, give him (or her, but I'll use he/him here because of my personal preferences) some wins! You can still have the heroes triumph at the end when it really matters and the fate of the Earth/galaxy/universe/other is at stake. But showing that they are evenly matched by the villains - maybe even outmatched - adds tension to the final showdowns.
The close shave: This is the standard solution - the heroes defeat the villain, but it's not easy. There are some tense moments when it could all have gone in another direction. Works well once or twice, which is why this narrative device is what you usually see in feature-length films, but in a long-running series, you can't use it too often, or the villain will look incompetent no matter what. A player who keeps hitting the goal post is not a good goal scorer.
The cynical miscalculation: Sooner or later, the villain has to start making mistakes. It helps if these mistakes aren't simply dumb errors, but based on the limits of a villainous outlook. Of course it would be foolish to think a hero would be tempted from the straight and narrow by, say, greed, but there are other failings a hero might be prone to because of their self-righteousness, such as vindictiveness (masquerading as "serving justice") and a certain longing for power (for the greater good, of course). If a villain bases his strategy on an over-reliance on his opponents' weaknesses, then that doesn't come across as too idiotic. It only shows that there is a part of being a hero which a villain simply doesn't "get".
The bigger threat: As used in such different franchises as Doctor Who and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (achingly wholesome, but not too wholesome for some pleasingly twisted villain ships). In summary, the protagonist/s have to put their struggle against the main antagonist aside because even greater trouble is brewing - sometimes they get help from their enemy, sometimes not. The reason why it has become a bit of a cliché that the Doctor and the Master must join forces to defeat some universe-shaking threat is that it works so well. The Master can get something right for a change and prove his genius without it having world-burning consequences, and then once the alliance is done he (or she if it's Missy) can go back to being a total selfish bastard. Neat. A variation of this strategy is "the wild card", where the recurring villain has his own agenda, but is not set up as the heroes' main antagonist. The wild card's function can be summed up by quoting Rumple/Mr Gold and Emma from Once Upon a Time: "Are you suggesting I'm working for Regina or against her?" "I don't know... Maybe diagonally".
The problem is that viewers tend to crave a strong main antagonist. You can't put the main threat elsewhere indefinitely, and you can't get away with always upstaging the main villain with a "wild card". Except in Once.
"Ah, just as I anticipated": This is the opposite of winning the battles but losing the war: the villain takes smaller losses with equanimity, because he has a Master Plan, and even losses teach him something about his opponent, or will help him to win in the long run. Thrawn in Rebels is a good example of this narrative device so far. But much as I love Master Plans, they very rarely work out, and unless you can create some really impactful scenes where the heroes think they're properly screwed because of the villain's master planning, the viewer will catch on to the fact that the supposedly intelligent baddie ended up losing the battles and the war.
Blaming your underlings: Also known as "sitting on a throne and complaining". Unless you're Palpatine, don't do this. Making your minions seem incompetent won't make you seem cleverer. One, the success of a mission is the boss's responsibility. Once or twice, you can keep your master-villain reputation by blaming others: it might even come across as relateable (we've all been there, when we've done everything right, and then it all falls apart because of someone else's mistake). But ultimately you're responsible for your henchmen: if they're not up to scratch, fire them or kill them or something. Better still, do some of the work yourself. Because, two, even if your underlings miss a trick or two, if all you've done is sit on a throne (or similar), then they've probably done more for the villainous cause than you. Fantasy Palpatine - sorry, Galbatorix - in the film Eragon is a good example of how throne-complaining comes across. (If you wonder why I've watched this film when all fans of the book hate it - well, just look at the cast list.) Fantasy Darth Vader (Durza) may not have been able to kill off Fantasy Luke (Eragon), but he did for Fantasy Obi-Wan (Brom) and very nearly Fantasy Leia (Arya) too, plus he knows where the rebel base is. In fact, he's done all of the heavy lifting, while all Galbatorix does is whine about incompetence in the tones of John Malkovich seemingly on valium. Just topple the lazy sod and take over, Durza - I'm rooting for you.
