
Spoilers ahead for the second season of Andor through episode eight, “Who Are You?”
Here’s the thing about Syril Karn, Andor’s resident ideological romantic and bureaucrat king: If he grew up in, say, modern-day Connecticut, he probably would’ve aspired to be a management consultant, or a tech bro, or a wellness influencer … anything that would’ve given him a structure and the frisson of a higher purpose. But the sad, noodly guy with mommy issues who’s searching the galaxy for something to be a part of, and someone to tell him what to do, grew up in the context of Emperor Palpatine’s Empire, and so the thing he wants is to be a good foot soldier.
In “Who Are You?,” the poor guy meets his end. After spending much of the season embedded in Ghorman to infiltrate the Ghorman Front on behalf of Dedra (Denise Gough), his handler (and romantic partner?!), festooned in a broad belief that he’s there to suss out rebels but also coming to a gradual awareness that his job isn’t quite what it seems, his foundations are shaken when the Empire proceeds to massacre the Ghormans on what even Syril understands to be illegitimate grounds. But before he can fully process what’s changing inside of him, he spots Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), the source of his prior misfortunes. This sends him into a rage as he redirects all of his emotions into attacking the Rebel. In the ensuing melee, Syril miraculously gets the upper hand, but he’s stunned when Andor — the man he’s been obsessed with for years — doesn’t actually recognize him. And that’s when he’s shot in the head.
Played with impeccable precision by Kyle Soller, who did, in fact, grow up in Connecticut and now resides in London, Syril receives an ignoble end. But it’s one that felt right to Soller, who is both pleased with how his character went out and sad to see him go — but at least he got to keep some of Syril’s “awesome coats” to remember him by.
Syril is probably one of my favorite characters I’ve seen on television in a while. He’s just so odd and particular. How did you feel about his grand exit?
I was very pleased about it. He had an ignominious end. It was so fitting for someone who has delusions of grandeur, who is a fantasist and an utter romantic about his standing in the Empire. It was perfect.
I’m also a bit sad to see him go, because ultimately he’s the victim of his own ideological worship. Season two surprised me with how much heart is in him as well. I feel for him. He’s just misunderstood. We’re all our own worst enemies, you know? I feel sorry for him when the revelations were coming thick and fast and he realizes he was just a patsy — though one who’s actually making a huge impact on one of the most important points in Star Wars history, which he’ll never be remembered for.
Yet in an interesting way, Syril ties into one of Andor’s major themes, which is this idea that everybody is part of a larger system they might not understand but still have an impact on. So in that sense he’s a truly ironic and tragic figure.
One hundred percent. The other thing about Syril is that he’s someone who’s not yet fully formed. It’s like a coming-of-age story for him. Of course, Syril would think that Andor is his story, but he’s trying to find himself within the structure of the Empire.
I kind of felt like he could’ve ended up on the other side. Not that I was hoping for Syril to have a redemption arc or anything. He just represents so clearly the banality of evil. The everyman who said yes way too often or drank the Kool-Aid one too many times growing up in a place like Coruscant. I mean, look at his mother and you understand why he’d latch onto a dominating behemoth like the Empire. After his meeting with Partagaz, he’s like, “This is the best moment of my life,” even though he just exchanged six words with the guy.
Bootlicker is a word that gets thrown around for him a lot, and it’s not wrong. He’s desperate to please and be recognized. In season two, when he’s promoted in the Bureau of Standards and gets to flex his voice and power a little bit, he loves that. That’s something we didn’t get to fully investigate for him because there’s only so much time, but he would’ve been the perfect yes-man at the right level. Though, it’s funny — I don’t know if he would’ve really succeeded at a very high level.
Some viewers have described him as a fascist, but I don’t think I agree with that. He strikes me more as a dude who just wants to be part of a bigger, prestigious system. If the Empire wasn’t his dominant context, he’d probably aspire to work for Goldman Sachs or something.
Right. He’d want to be among people with really good sartorial choices, who take shit seriously, who work really hard and have high standards.
I appreciate your description of Syril being a fantasist because he does seem to have a rich interior life. One of my favorite details is the fact that, as he settles into Ghorman, he starts dressing well and meaningfully decorates his apartment. By this last batch of episodes, I got the sense he really vibes with the place. Is that where you placed him in his emotional journey?
Yeah. A lot of that comes out through the strength of the detail in the costume design by Mike Wilkinson and the hair and makeup by Emma Scott. In episode seven, you see him walk into the plaza and his hair is a bit longer, it looks more Ghorman. He’s got a new Ghorman jacket, but instead of it being tightly fitted, it’s letting loose a bit. Because Mike and Emma are amazing at constructing looks based on how we were feeling in our own character psychology, I saw this as a part of an individuation from his former self. Literally, the costumes I had in the first season, I could only stand one way. But in Ghorman, he’s starting to let that version of himself go. He’s also starting to become aware. He knows he’s a plant on Ghorman and has been for a few years now, but the information coming in from Dedra is different from what he’s gathering in the field. So he’s known for a while now he’s not getting the full story.
Trust is a huge thing with Syril. He’s never comfortable in relationships, and he’s only learning to be comfortable in his skin on Ghorman. Then by episode eight, he begins to understand his role in betraying Rylanz. I always thought Syril would’ve seen him as a pseudo-father figure he never had, though you don’t really get those scenes. We had to fill in some gaps. But I always leaned in that direction, because it makes the devastation more real and affecting for everybody when Rylanz confronts him and then he confronts Dedra. He’s met with the ultimate betrayal by Dedra, the person he loves in his own particular way of loving — and by the Empire, his most dear love. It’s utterly life shattering. He’s very human. He’s not this fascist people might’ve pigeonholed him into. He’s so much more complicated than that. All the characters are.
The Ghorman massacre really shakes that faith in him, but when he sees Andor, he becomes hyperfocused in redirecting all that anger at him. Walk me through that beat.
In that moment, he’s met with the realization that everything he held to be true is false. It’s soul-crushing and life-altering. It’s kind of leaving a cult. He doesn’t know if the sky is actually blue anymore. He’s not on firm ground.
Then he sees the guy that he has blamed over the last four years of his life. The one true thing he knows is that he hates this guy. So what’s unleashed is just this primal anger and frustration. A mixture of everything we know about Syril and everything he’s experienced in the last ten minutes is just unleashed on Cassian. He isn’t even thinking, like, If I capture him now, I can save everything. After seeing the massacre, he’s out. But when he sees Cassian, his response is more: I want to hurt you and I want to punish you, but I also want to punish myself. The fight is so quick, but there are moments we worked in where Syril’s okay with getting hit because he wants to feel something, to be flagellated in some way. Any other day, Cassian would’ve just beaten the shit out of him, but Syril’s imbued with this superhuman ferocity from his whole world crashing down around him. He’s gone completely.
I’m curious: How much of Kyle Soller is in Syril Karn?
We’re like 100 percent the same. [Laughs.] I sympathize with him so much, man. I have a lot of compassion for him. I don’t think I’m as obsessive as him, but I have obsessive qualities. I hope I’m not as angry either, but that’s something I tried to build in way, way, way in the beginning. His anger is zipped up so tight that it’s in his jaw. I remember Toby Haynes, who directed a lot of the first season, was using a reference picture for me for a hair color, and he was like, “I like this photo, it looks like you’re chewing on a wasp.” And I was like, That’s Syril. Chewing all his bitterness, constantly so disappointed with everyone. So yeah, obviously, there are major differences, but I feel for the guy.
That wasp story really does speak to the specific physicality you brought to the character. He’s so ramrod and uptight. He’s very clenched from the bottom up. Did you have anybody particular in mind when you were modeling him?
Oh no, that came the more I sat with Syril and worked on him. I had only gotten three episodes when I had to make a decision on this role, and I think it was in the third episode where you get the scenes with Eedy at the breakfast table. That’s when I was like, “Oh yeah, I know exactly who this guy is now.”
He’s a little slouched, withdrawn.
Yes, and within that withdrawal is a deep steeliness. He’s a caged animal. His rigidity is all in the writing. It’s in how he describes his tailoring and how seriously he takes shit. It’s natural for the guy, who has such high standards for himself and others, to hold himself in a certain way.
Speaking of Eedy, how’s working with Kathryn Hunter? She seems like a great hang.
Oh my God. The ultimate, man. She’s a literal genius. She’s so playful. Nothing’s ever the same twice. Not because she’s trying to mess with anything; she’s just that creative. I think Eedy is one of the biggest unsung Star Wars villains out there, personally, and it was so much fun playing with her. She just has this amazing ability to use her voice. She can change octaves within the same sentence and make you feel something instantaneously. She’s magic.
I was pretty delighted when Syril and Dedra were revealed to be a couple. Situationship? How do you think they work? What’s Syril’s love language?
[Laughs.] I don’t know what happens when the lights go out, man. That’s something Denise and I just kept on saying to each other: “What do they do together? How do they even eat at the same table, let alone when the lights go out? How would they even touch one another?” It was always a conversation right up until the point of filming, then we tried not to think about it and tried make it as weird as possible — which wasn’t hard because both of our characters are super fucking weird. Maybe you put them in the same place and there’s just a lot of staring. So how it works, I don’t know.
I do think, in season two, you get to see that Syril has a little bit of heart. He comes home before the Eedy lunch and he’s asking her how a meeting went and everything. He’s opening up about how he wishes they wouldn’t have to do this. You see he has a level of vulnerability he hasn’t shown before, and maybe that’s something that allows that relationship to be. Otherwise, I don’t even know if you could call it a relationship. It’s like a strange agreement.
At the same time, she clearly cares about him. She defends him from his mother and strikes a deal with her. I imagine Dedra’s love language naturally involves expressing power in some way.
Yeah. I mean, Oscar Wilde has that quote: “Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” Ultimately, they come together both desiring power and to capture Cassian. Dedra becomes an object of his fixation about power. He was like, “Oh my God, you’re a member of the ISB, I want to be you, but I also think I want to be with you, and I also kind of want to be inside you?”
Plus, there’s some stuff that overlaps between her and his mom.
Exactly. “We both come from shitty backgrounds and you’re weird with people and I’m weird with people, so this is good.”
What’s the biggest thing you’ll take away from working on Andor?
It’s really so cliché, but it’s hard to choose one, man. It was such an amazing thing to work on, on every level. I’ve never been a part of something that huge and that creatively freeing on a TV set before. But I guess what it would be is the importance of community and leadership. It came from the top down with Tony Gilroy and Diego Luna, and it filtered through to every level. Tony gifted every single person on the crew and the actors with responsibility and freedom to tell their story. Obviously there were scripts and everything, but we were trusted. “This is yours, we’re not going to hold your hand.” I was made aware that it literally takes a village to do something like this. Everybody working at the peak of their capabilities. Every tiny piece was made to be seen, even if it was never shot. I just have so much gratitude. So I guess all that, and I got to take back my awesome coats.
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