Editor's note: The following contains spoilers for Episodes 1-5 of Andor.Ah, Syril Karn (Kyle Soller). We feel your pain. When we sat down to watch the Disney+ Star Wars spin-off show Andor, we did not expect the writers to hold up a mirror to every millennial’s nightmare. That too through the arc of Syril Karn, a character that we already love to hate. But here we are—instead of despising Syril, we feel ever so slightly sympathetic toward his plight.
Syril Karn appeared in the Andor premiere as a self-righteous Deputy Inspector on the Pre-Mor Security Inspection team. He learns about the murder of two of his colleagues and, to his horror, discovers that optics, rather than justice, matter more to his superior, who pressures Syril to cover up the murders. It’s evident early on that Syril is one of those people who make his job his personality—he modifies his uniform, so it’s more functional and looks quite fetching; he stays up all night collecting information about the murders, despite being told not to, even using up Pre-Mor resources without permission, as he deems his colleagues are worth the effort. We see Syril being indignant in the face of the injustice of the cover-up and the corporate politics behind the decision, to the point where he feels entitled enough to believe he is in the right when everyone else says otherwise. When he goes above and beyond to uncover the killer, who turns out to be the hero of the show Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), Syril’s overzealousness not only ends with him losing his job, but his individual actions lead to the dissolution of the whole Preox-Morlana corporate security operation in the Morlani system! That’s a catastrophic level of failure. Oh, but the worst is yet to come.
So, Syril is out of a job and has lost his corporate housing as a result. He has nowhere to go but back home. It’s a journey many millennials have lived through, but usually without having destroyed their employers. There are a lot of jokes made at the expense of millennials, despite being a generation that’s had it really rough. The planet’s dying, the economy’s failing, and no amount of skimping on coffee and avocados is going to buy us that house we want. Those of us who move away from family and parental homes find a new form of independence to carve out unique new lives. Moving out is the first sign of adulting. While some millennials have opted to live with their parents (which is a regular practice in many cultures), many millennials have been left with no choice but to move back due to numerous circumstances, most of them related to the economy. In the eyes of some, moving back is a sign of ultimate failure, and apparently, Syril’s mother, Eedy Karn (Kathryn Hunter), is of that thinking.
Syril Karn's Return Home Is Full of Disappointment
Syril comes home rightfully disgraced, and he immediately has to deal with his mother’s disappointment in him. She doesn’t say the words exactly (which is so much worse), but the lack of respect for her son is evident. Eedy babies Syril by making a child’s breakfast for him, complete with cereal and blue milk. And it’s apparently unappetizing for Syril, who plays with his food like a child. Everyone reacts differently to personal and professional disasters and regression appears to be Syril’s coping mechanism. But it’s Eedy’s incessant nagging that is suffocating. Instead of allowing Syril time to process what has happened, or maybe even reflect on his own behavior, Eedy starts needling Syril about practically everything. It's obvious that Eedy was living vicariously through Syril’s position in Pre-Mor. She is upset that she couldn’t spend time with Syril, or rather in Syril’s home when he was ‘flourishing’. Not that anything was stopping her from visiting him before. Eedy also takes it upon herself to lecture Syril on his poor posture, which she believes shows a lack of leadership skills. As if slouching is what got Syril fired and not him losing an entire squad to two armed civilians. She then goes head-long into how he has no ‘future prospects’. Ma’am, he just got here, give him a minute!
In so many ways, Syril’s experiences mirror that of many millennials in the real world—we worry about our job prospects, but our parents worry about them more, though neither group has control over the job climate. People have to hold on to jobs, no matter how awful they are, because any change in circumstance can be devastating. Having to contend with parents who only see how their child failed, and not what caused those failures, only adds salt to the fresh wounds. Millennials, or any young person who is watching Andor, will understand the fear and weight of failure because the begrudging return home and the unending parental disappointment will crush you like it is Syril. You don’t have to have lived it to worry about it. You don’t even need to have a mean parent like Eedy to shudder whenever Syril’s back on screen. Syril’s story may take place in a galaxy far, far away, but his journey is a reality for many.
Eedy Is Ready to Find Her Son Any Job, So Long as He Is Employed
Andor also highlights how parents and relatives tend to have good intentions that only end up increasing feelings of inadequacy in their offspring. Eedy, having decided Syril will never get a job again, based on what data, who knows, decides to ask Syril’s Uncle Harlo for a favor. Apparently, she has come up with this plan before (so many families have that one relative who can definitely get you a job), so it seems that Eedy has a history of not giving Syril credit for his ability to get and keep a job, which explains Syril’s doggedness at work. He knew what would happen when he lost his job. Eedy’s suggestion is to ask Uncle Harlo to find anyone who will take Syril on. That’s it. She’s not even trying to see if he can look for a job at his skill level and Uncle Harlo apparently feels the same way. Police work is not in Syril’s future, they’ve decided. Granted, there probably aren’t many places looking to hire a disaster of Syril proportions, but Eedy’s behavior is exactly the kind that eats away at a person’s confidence. Is there nothing that Eedy and Harlo can find that would benefit from Syril’s abilities? Do they care about a skill and culture fit, or do they just want Syril to have a job, any job, no matter how miserable? We’ve all been in those jobs—they’re soul-sucking. Somehow Andor is making us feel sorry for Syril.
Syril and Eedy don’t see eye to eye, yes, but Eedy also refuses to see Syril for who he is now, an adult who bombed at his job. When one is away from their family for a long time, one can tend to get stuck in people’s imagination. Since they didn’t see you grow, they feel like you didn’t. The sparring between Eedy and Syril comes from this dissonance, but there are clearly a lot of unresolved issues between them. The primary problem is that neither is listening to the other, and they aren’t communicating. It’s like each is talking to a brick wall. Who hasn’t felt that way at some point or other when interacting with family, especially after a long absence?
Syril looks so forlorn sitting in his childhood bedroom, which looks to have changed little since his early years. We can see his action figures on the dresser. We don’t know what Syril’s fate will be on Andor, and he is likely going to be a thorn in hero Cassian’s side, but viewers will be hard-pressed not to want to see some positive outcomes for Syril. Yes, he’s an antagonist, but an understandable one. And he lost his job and caused chaos not because of spite but because of his convictions. It is very hard to stand up for your beliefs when your livelihood is on the line. Syril’s paying the price for searching for justice, even if it was for people who didn’t really deserve any. We were supposed to hate Syril; he started off as a pertinent example of bad policing. And yet there is something resonant about his silent anguish over his failures. What are his future prospects? Killing Cassian himself? Joining the Rebellion? Becoming yet another pawn of the Empire? See, Eedy, Syril does have future prospects.