I Didn't Exactly "Run" to See This

I think the moment I first became aware of the movie Run Lola Run was when the television series Alias presented a major action sequence featuring its lead character in bright red hair, and the internet began buzzing with, "you know they're referencing Run Lola Run here, right?" Well, no, I hadn't known. But in the many years (decades) since, I've come upon "you know this is referencing Run Lola Run, right?" a rather surprising number of times.

Writer-director Tom Tykwer's German-language action-thriller has had a powerful influence on other entertainment creators. And at an 80 minute, ahem, run time, you'd think I'd have found time to watch it at some point before now. You might also think that when I finally did find time for it a few weeks ago, any surprises it might have had in store had long since been spoiled for me.

Not so. Perhaps all the talk about red hair was a lightning rod distracting from the most salient element of Run Lola Run: it's a bit science fiction. Well... at least as much as the classic comedy Groundhog Day is. Because we watch the titular protagonist live the same events multiple times over the course of the movie. Not in a Groundhog Day sort of way, actually; there's no real indication that anyone has memory of being in a "loop." Maybe more like the multiple endings of Clue, but it an "multiple back-to-back short films" sort of way?

The point actually seems to be a quiet commentary on the Butterfly effect (the phenomenon, not the movie), how one small alteration of one tiny detail can ripple out to cause big changes. Run Lola Run is one premise, three movies. I'd been expecting... a spy thriller? Maybe? Needless to say, I was blindsided in a way that actually entertained me.

Make no mistake, though: you absolutely get what the movie promises. Lola runs. A lot. Indeed, if you cut out the long sequences of the camera just lingering on the main character as she dashes from place to place, the 80 minute movie might actually sweat down to something like 70 minutes. Not that the movie would be better for it, though. Besides moments that highlight the "changing ripples" in each version of events, there's a surprising amount of character conveyed in these moments. That's part of what makes Franka Potente a strong lead actor for this film. And not only does she convey character without dialogue in some scenes, she's quite good in quieter, confrontational moments as well.

But there was a sort of "ceiling" on my enjoyment of the movie. I do think it's possible to pack an emotional punch in, say, a 25-minute short film... but Run Lola Run isn't really trying to do that in any of the three "films" here because it has larger aspirations with the "alternate universe" wrapper. Yet at the same time, it doesn't feel like it has much to say about the premise as a whole beyond, "isn't this interesting, the three different ways this could have gone down?" Well, sure -- it is entertaining. But I'm not quite sure there's a "there" there.

I'm glad I've finally seen Run Lola Run after all this time. I would even recommend it to most people I know, because I think it would align with their tastes. But if I were making movies or TV, I don't think it would have inspired me to the degree it seems to have inspired so many others. (Maybe that's why I'm not making movies or TV?) I give Run Lola Run a B.

Voyager Flashback: Author, Author

With a handful of episodes left in the series, Star Trek: Voyager began offering "wrap-up episodes" of a sort, for characters that might not find "getting back to Earth" the most satisfying of endings. The first of those was a Doctor-centric episode, "Author, Author."

The Pathfinder Project is able to establish brief, daily communications with Voyager. The Doctor uses his time allotment to pursue a book deal with a publisher for his first holonovel. When the novel turns out to be a thinly-veiled autobiographical story that portrays the rest of the Voyager crew in an unflattering light, the Doctor must be persuaded to soften his writing. But even then, the publisher has gone and published without his permission; as a hologram, they say, he has no rights to control his own story. A legal battle for the Doctor's personhood ensues.

This episode is really two in one, and not balanced at that. We're practically three-quarters of the way done when a serious legal drama supplants what had thus far been a light-hearted comedy. Let me take each "episode" one at a time.

I find the "Doctor writes a book that offends the crew" story to be some of the best comedy Voyager ever did. The story leans into the Doctor's pomposity, having him narrate in a smoking jacket, underline his already bold text themes, and gaslight his crewmates (almost as much as he's gaslighting himself).

All that would be funny enough, but the real comedy comes in the holonovel itself. The Voyager actors and writers have fun heightening their characters to a not-quite-Mirror-universe degree of villainy. We get a Chakotay with an over-the-top face tattoo, ridiculous proxy names like "Mister Marseilles" (who sports a ridiculous mustache), prop comedy involving a giant mobile emitter, and an evil Vulcan with an actual mirror Spock beard. The fake Janeway executes one crewmember to force her chief medical officer to tend to another, the fake Paris cheats on his wife... it's all wild.

Just as fun is watching the actual characters react to "playing" this holonovel. Paris plays along at first, until he discovers how dark the scenario gets. B'Elanna accuses Paris of just being jealous that the Doctor is throwing his hat in the "holonovel writer" arena... until she plays it herself. We see Neelix, Kim, and Janeway play too, leading to fun moments where each character comes face-to-face with their holographic proxy.

The comedy continues when Tom Paris turns the tables and rewrites the Doctor's holonovel to show him why everyone else is so offended by the Doctor's work. Now it's Robert Picardo's turn to cut loose, sporting a bad combover and playing his character with an extra dose of insensitivity and horniness. This leads to an unexpectedly poignant moment when the Doctor confronts Paris: Paris says he isn't bothered if others would see him as the Doctor wrote him; it bothers him that that's how The Doctor himself sees him.

Admittedly, this cluelessness from the Doctor to all the offenses he's causing seems a bit farfetched, as does to the degree to which he's protesting his lack of freedoms. Both seem more keyed to the Doctor circa season one than season seven. But at least to the latter point, the episode has an answer: the Doctor is writing with an eye toward his Alpha Quadrant brothers, who enjoy less freedom than he does.

Running alongside this enjoyable main story is a nice subplot about crewmembers taking their turns talking to family from the Alpha Quadrant. This gives us several lovely scenes with more emotional weight amid the comedy: Kim talking to his parents (and seeming very childlike when he does), B'Elanna facing her estranged father (with Paris at her side), and Seven of Nine learning why family does matter (when she has a brief talk with a distant aunt). Indeed, the quality of these little family vignettes is so good that I think it highlights a big misstep Voyager would take with its finale: it doesn't show us the characters interacting with loved ones after they make it back to Earth.

So that's all "episode one" of "Author, Author." And if you forgive the regression in the Doctor's behavior, it's pretty great. Then, with barely 10 minutes left, we get "episode two" of "Author, Author," a sudden legal drama where the Doctor must fight for his own basic rights. I don't mind the episode taking a hard turn like this; sometimes a bit of levity is just what you need to sneak in a powerful moral message.

What I'm more uncertain about is the specter hanging over this, the fact that on The Next Generation, the episode "The Measure of a Man" already exists. There, a full 45 minutes is devoted to the question of whether a "non-human" character has "human" rights. The episode was the series' first legitimately great installment, and remained in the top 10 even after the series improved in later seasons. Getting a rehash of it here, crammed into 10 minutes, seems not great.

On the other hand, I have a lot of respect for the way the Doctor's claims get resolved in this episode. "The Measure of a Man," great as it is, is quite idealistic: Data's rights are vindicated in the fullest way imaginable. In reality, that's really not how civil rights tend to progress. Very hard-fought battles yield very incremental steps forward over a long period of time. Don't get me wrong, I love the idealistic version (and very often, that's what I expect from Star Trek in particular). But I also appreciate that here, the court doesn't rule that "the Doctor is a person." Instead, they rule that he is an "author" with a right to control distribution of his work. That feels like exactly the sort of incremental victory that happens in life -- the case about men paying alimony that tees up the later case fighting for womens' equal rights, or the case about a lesbian widow's tax liabilities that tees up the later case for nationwide same-sex marriage.

Other observations:

• I don't know that you really need Barclay in this episode, but I guess you can't do "Pathfinder" stories without him at this point.

• The episode's coda (showing a bunch of repurposed EMHs working in a mine and talking about the Doctor's book) takes place "four months later." This actually puts it after the events of the series finale.

I find "Author, Author" to be a late but pleasant surprise. I give it an A-. And really, the "minus" mostly comes from the degree to which the episode is running back "The Measure of a Man." Overall, it's great fun.

The Good Time

Ever since I watched and fell in love with The Good Wife, I have followed show creators Robert and Michelle King through each new series they bring to television. Their latest is a second spin-off of The Good Wife, and is something very light and different.

Elsbeth stars Carrie Preston as the title character, who she originated on The Good Wife and continued The Good Fight. A seemingly scatter-brained, endlessly bubbly personality, Elsbeth Tascioni was nevertheless a killer in the courtroom -- a brilliant savant always able to cut to the truth in the episodes she guest starred in. Now Elsbeth takes the spotlight when she's assigned to monitor a New York police precinct as part of a consent decree. Her skills at finding a winning argument translate readily to solving crime.

In a nutshell, this show scratches my "Poker Face itch" in a huge way. That show, if you haven't watched it, is a Columbo for the modern age starring Natasha Lyonne -- a mystery show where you get the answer every episode, and the fun is in watching the suspect squirm as the "detective" zeroes in. Elsbeth is exactly that model, even including the way Poker Face had a season-long story arc woven in with the "mysteries of the week."

Just as Natasha Lyonne makes Poker Face great, Carrie Preston is the reason to watch Elsbeth. She's really performing a magic trick here, because I'm fairly sure if I met someone like Elsbeth in real life, I would find them quite annoying. But I'm still entertained by the character every single episode. The writing is really brilliant too, in a deceptive way that makes it look more effortless than it really is. Recycling the same formula (with few variations) every week, and keeping that fun, is a real feat.

Two solid co-stars certainly help. TV stalwart Wendell Pierce is the captain of the precinct Elsbeth must monitor... and his character is the real object of Elsbeth's long-term investigation. Carra Patterson is the cop that befriends Elsbeth and accompanies her on her investigations, and the friendship that develops between the two characters is a treat.

The format is also perfect for drawing some fun guest stars. Lots of actors seem to enjoy being the villain of a crime drama for an episode, and the format of this one means you can cast a recognizable actor as the criminal and not give anything away. Season one episodes of Elsbeth have featured Jane Krakowski, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Retta, Blair Underwood, Gina Gershon, Keegan-Michael Key, and Preston's True Blood co-star Stephen Moyer.

Elsbeth isn't the best of the Kings' shows, but then, I don't see them setting out to make "prestige television" here. Instead, they're tapping into something simpler and fun. I give the first season of Elsbeth a B+, and I look forward to having more fun with the second when it arrives.

Voyager Flashback: Q2

With just a handful of episodes left in the series, you might expect Star Trek: Voyager to begin doing "wrap-up" episodes for each of the main characters. And to a limited extent, they would do that. But first... they'd bring back Q one more time.

When Q's adolescent son becomes a handful, Q decides a visit with his godparent, Captain Janeway, might be the fix. Q Junior has one week -- without his powers -- to prove his worthiness to the Q Continuum, or he'll be cast out and turned into an amoeba. While various crewmembers try to impress moral lessons upon Junior, the one person who might get through to him is his newfound friend, Icheb.

As you might have guessed from my introduction, I didn't really see Q as something that needed wrapping up on Star Trek: Voyager. He was a Next Generation invention and always fit better there. But between the fact that Kate Mulgrew and John de Lancie knew one another, and the fact that everyone knew by this point that a prequel show was coming up next (and with it, no logical opportunities to feature Q), I guess the character needed his final curtain call.

The problem is, every aspect of this story was already explored on The Next Generation. That series already gave us the story of someone young having to prove their worth to the continuum in "True Q," and it also gave us a story about Q being stripped of powers and having to learn morality in "Deja Q" (the best Q episode). There's simply not much here that feels original, and you really have to look to find it.

There is some novelty in the fact that Q Junior is played by Keegan de Lancie, real-life son of John. While the casting is clear nepotism, Keegan had done a little bit of acting (guesting in an episode of Ally McBeal shortly before this), and he isn't bad in the episode. Still... acting turned out not to be his thing. In fact, this Voyager episode was his last role; he went on to pursue a career in diplomacy, and became a US Foreign Service Officer.

Also intriguing: I believe this is the only Q episode (in this era, at least) that was directed by one of Star Trek's actor-turned-directors. LeVar Burton helms this episode, and I do think this leads to the comedy being more relaxed and natural than in some Q episodes.

But there's so much here that runs from "not great" (the fact that they didn't bring Suzie Plakson back as the female Q to include her in this story about parenting) to "cringe" (Junior using his powers to strip Seven of Nine naked). And this late in the game for Voyager, it's disappointing how little this story involves the series regulars. Janeway isn't actually in it that much, and the only other character featured in the story is recurring guest Icheb.

The writing doesn't feel particularly sharp either. It's possible they intended for some of Junior's behavior and motivations to be "unclear," but they read to me as ill-defined and unearned. He makes his turn from incorrigible brat to earnest try-hard basically in the span of a commercial break, so quickly that you're left to wonder if he's now working some angle. (He then regresses just as quickly at the first sign of adversity, leaving you to wonder if the turn was ever actually sincere.) Equally rushed are the minutes between the Continuum judging against Junior and then Q reappearing to say that (off-screen) he's resolved the whole problem.

Other observations:

• For all its flaws, this episode does shut up Neelix in the ultimate way for a few moments -- Junior removes his mouth and vocal cords. (In what's really a ghastly, not comedic, idea if you think about it.)

• There are lots of extras in Junior's "sexy dance party" in Engineering, and some unusual-for-Voyager music to accompany it. Feels like they blew half the budget on this one scene.

• There's a fun in-camera trick of Q "teleporting" from one place to another. After he appears in one place and the camera pans away, John de Lancie runs around the back of the set to appear somewhere else in the same camera shot.

If you like Q (and some don't), then you probably are glad to see him one last time (until decades later, with Star Trek: Picard). But this story feels unoriginal, rushed, and not the place to be spending time in Voyager's precious last few episodes. I give it a C+.

Voyager Flashback: Human Error

By the final season of Star Trek: Voyager, Seven of Nine commanded so many of the story lines that the most reliable way for one of the other characters to be featured in an episode seemed to be by tethering to her story. That seems to be exactly what happened in "Human Error."

Seven of Nine decides to explore her humanity on the holodeck, which includes simulating a romantic relationship... with Chakotay. Meanwhile, crew members plan a baby shower for Tom and B'Elanna. But things turn serious when Voyager finds itself passing through an alien mine field.

Writer-producer Brannon Braga was in a relationship with actress Jeri Ryan in the latter years of Star Trek: Voyager's run, and it seems at least a few of the regular cast members felt this had contributed to Seven of Nine getting so many scripts. Robert Beltran had been complaining openly about having stories taken away from Chakotay, and as you might expect, complaining in public didn't prove to be a fruitful path to enticing the writers to write for his character.

So, reportedly, he tried a different approach. In a light-hearted (?) moment on set, Beltran said to Jeri Ryan that Braga would never have the guts to write a script in which Seven of Nine kissed Chakotay. Ryan, it's said, found that hilarious and told her boyfriend Braga... who responded by writing the relationship between Seven and holographic-Chakotay into this script. It sounds like exaggeration -- and probably is -- but it's actually a story that both Beltran and Braga agree on when they talk about it today. (I'd love to know what Ryan says, but it seems no one has asked her. Hmmm.)

That bizarre background really explains why the romance presented in this episode seems to come out of nowhere. Quite simply, it did. Nothing organic to the characters led to it; this was simply an actor angling for screen time and getting it in a bizarre way.

And I think the weirdness, the sense that this episode means more to the people behind the scenes than is expressed on screen, infects the episode in other subtle ways. Take the opening teaser: less than 60 seconds of Seven of Nine just sitting at a piano, playing to a metronome. We see she doesn't have her implants. And... roll the credits. This is supposed to be a teaser to keep us from channel surfing? Are we all supposed to sit up in our seats and cry, "my God, where are her implants?!" Then there's the weird level of engagement the Doctor has in her relationship, once he discovers it. It taps into the character's own rather creepy background with Seven, sure -- but it also just fundamentally assumes that the audience wants to see Seven in a relationship as much as the writers do.

It also doesn't help that this episode is following in the footsteps of some Next Generation episodes that brushed up against the idea that using the holodeck for weird fetishes with real people you know is really not okay. (We just weren't ready to even conceive of, much less learn, that lesson in the 1980s.) The episode really keeps its focus on "how wonderful it is that Seven is relaxing and learning to be more human," and barely engages with "but isn't it creepy that she's created an AI Chakotay boyfriend to do it?" It's quite simply hard to watch the flirtation between Seven and Chakotay, no matter how well Ryan and Beltran may be playing it. It feels so weird!

Jeri Ryan in particular does shine in her performance, though. There really is a profound shift in her demeanor when Seven is playing out her holodeck scenarios. She really does seem like a "different person," but really does fundamentally still feel like Seven of Nine. (In a way, it's something of a preview of her portrayal decades later on Star Trek: Picard.)

There's also a nice subplot here about throwing a baby shower for Tom and B'Elanna. It's not that the story line is revelatory or profound, but it is rare for Voyager to keep an ongoing story alive like this, and so it's welcome to see. I also like that the "ship jeopardy" subplot, about some random space shock waves, barely gets any screen time at all. They let this be a purely character-based episode, pretty much to the maximum extent Voyager ever allows.

Other observations:

• The baby shower gifts are fun. In particular, I imagine there are a few Trekker parents out there who would buy diapers with the Starfleet logo, if they were a real thing.

• There is weirdest innuendo in this episode about furnishing Seven of Nine's holographic quarters, when she's told she'll need to get drapes that match the carpet. Wow, people. Just wow.

• Seven of Nine shouldn't need a metronome to keep time while performing music, right? She must have internal Borg widgets to do that?

• It takes the Doctor singing a version of "Rock-a-Bye Baby" with disturbing shuttle crash lyrics for you to really stop and realize how disturbing the actual lyrics to the song are.

• Once you have seen Star Trek: Picard, the whole "why Chakotay?" of all this becomes even more pronounced: in Picard, Seven of Nine is in a relationship with a woman. You can forgive that a child-like Seven, fresh from the Collective, might still be learning this sort of thing about herself. But it does make me wonder if a more interesting version of this episode might have portrayed Seven simulating a relationship with Janeway. That would have added the complexity of confusing love for a mentor with romantic love, and might also have entangled Janeway's strict policy not to get involved with her crew members in that way. (Seven has to simulate the relationship, because it could never happen in real life.)

"Human Error" isn't all bad, but it is awkward and forced. I give it a C+.

For Starters

I've blogged before about the writing of John Scalzi. Some of his books have worked great for me; others less so. But you're always going to get a story from Scalzi that you wouldn't get from anyone else. His latest is a great example of this: Starter Villain.

This is the story of Charlie Fitzer, who is roped into unexpected action when a long-estranged uncle dies, leaving behind a request that Charlie should arrange the funeral. When that turns out to be something of a test (which Charlie seemingly passes), he receives a most unexpected inheritance: the massive evil empire run by Charlie's uncle, complete with volcano lair, killer satellites, a rival conglomerate... and talking spy cats.

Like another of Scalzi's recent books, The Kaiju Preservation Society, Starter Villain makes for a great elevator pitch. "Hapless nobody inherits an evil empire" sounds fun. And even though conventional wisdom says you can't judge a book by its cover, this book simply has too great a cover not to judge it delightful: it features a scowling cat in a business suit. This book was all but screaming at me to read it.

Once you get under the surface, there isn't as much going on as I would have liked. There is a story here, and the book overall never stops being fun. But entertainment is very much the only item on the agenda here; telling a deeply satisfying story doesn't really make the list. If it's enough for you that this book is mainly about playing with James Bond cliches, and will pause in the middle of anything to follow a comedic side note (say, unionizing dolphins), then this book will be enough for you. If you need to become invested in the protagonist's journey? You're probably not going to get there.

I think listening to this on audiobook may have affected my perceptions of it too. Frequent Scalzi collaborator Wil Wheaton narrates -- and does a great job of heightening both everything I loved about the book and everything that I had reservations about. Oftentimes, when reviewing an actor's performance in something, a reviewer will say "you can tell they were having fun." (I've done it myself, I'm sure.) You can tell Wil Wheaton was having fun. He reads this book, clearly as delighted by everything that amused Scalzi when he wrote it. And that intensifies the laughs. But it also magnifies the too-unflappable tone of the protagonist, who always seems outside himself and the circumstances rather than fully drawn into them.

Don't get me wrong: I still liked Starter Villain. I'd give it a B, and if the description sounds at all entertaining to you, I'd definitely recommend it. But also, it's a fluffy confection of a book that melts on your brain like cotton candy on your tongue. It should be approached like dessert, and not the main course.

A Metal Filing

The big "video game adapted for television" series that's been at the forefront of pop culture recently is Fallout. But I'm running at least one trend behind in this area; I'm here today to talk about Twisted Metal.

Released last year exclusively on NBC's streaming service Peacock, Twisted Metal is a violent half-hour comedy set in a post-apocalyptic world where "couriers" run needed supplies between walled cities, braving many hazards along the way. I've never played the games on which the series is based, but it's possible that what I've just described is already a far more story-driven setting than the video games. From what I can tell, Twisted Metal was really a series of demolition derby games with some recurring characters like a psychotic clown named Sweet Tooth.

However faithful to the games the show might be, the raw elements still seem to be there. Layered over the top of them is a story of John Doe, a courier with amnesia of his own past, who falls in with Quiet, a survivor trying to get revenge for the death of her brother. Self-appointed authoritarian Agent Stone is after them, and that clown Sweet Tooth is in the mix too.

That all could be read quite seriously, but Twisted Metal is not that show. It's more of a quippy summer blockbuster broken up into little 20-to-30-minute increments. Like said blockbusters, it can be pretty dumb at times. And like said blockbusters (when done well), it's the right kind of dumb that can be pretty entertaining.

Of course, this show doesn't have the budget of a summer blockbuster, and so there's actually less action overall than you might expect. Filling in is a well-paced story line about the growing relationship between John and Quiet. Their snarky banter works thanks to solid casting: John is played by Anthony Mackie, and Quiet is played by Stephanie Beatriz. I find Beatriz particularly great, but then, after all those seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, I'm happy to spend more time with a character adjacent to Rosa Diaz.

The rest of the casting says a lot about the tone of the show. Thomas Haden Church is here, suppressing any comedy in his background to play Agent Stone. Will Arnett is cutting loose as the unhinged voice of Sweet Tooth. (Wrestler Joe Seanoa performs the character on screen.) Guest stars include Neve Campbell and Jason Mantzoukas as leaders of two very different communities; if you know either from other work, you can probably guess the differences.

I enjoyed the 10-episode season one of Twisted Metal, and appreciated how it filled a niche that no other show in my rotation could. I didn't necessarily need another post-apocalypse series, but could appreciate one that didn't take itself seriously. I didn't need another violent show with (borderline) superheroics, but could appreciate one that used a half-hour format instead of an hour. All told, I'd give Twisted Metal a B.

I think not too many people I know actually subscribe to Peacock. But if you're the sort of person who might be picking it up for a month or two to watch the Olympics this summer, maybe you'd find Twisted Metal a fun diversion while you're there.

One Last Trip Through History

It was the fourth and final day of our Washington D.C. excursion. We decided to hit one more Smithsonian museum, the National Museum of American History. It's a fascinating and eclectic collection of artifacts from the country's earliest days, props from movies and television, signs from various political campaigns, and vehicles from every era of the nation. There are even a few trinkets of the past decade or two that you might not even think to put in a museum -- but if you pause for a moment and take a longer view from 50 or 100 years from now, would totally make sense to preserve in a museum.

Julia Child's kitchen from her hit cooking show stands in a gallery devoted to the evolution of food in the modern era. (And was an interesting thing to see, in light of also learning about Julia Child at the Spy Museum the day before.) The same gallery displayed everything from a collection of craft beer cans representing the explosion of that market to a fondue pot exactly matching one in my friend's cabinet at this very moment.

If a tour featuring items you might find in your own house doesn't sound impressive, then the second floor is probably more for you. That's where you will find the literal Star-Spangled Banner, the very flag that flew above Fort McHenry and inspired the poem that became the country's national anthem. The flag was known to be significant even in its time, which is why many pieces were cut off of it over the years as souvenirs. What remains is still an impressive enough 30 by 34 feet, and the efforts to preserve it now are so heightened that the flag is displayed in low lighting in a special room where photography is prohibited. There's something simultaneously awesome and uncanny about looking at it; you may eventually realize that the uncanny aspect is due largely to the fact that the flag has 15 stripes, not 13. Practice at the time was to add a star and a stripe to the flag as each new state joined the union; one can only imagine what the flag would look like today had that continued.

I mentioned that when we toured the U.S. Capitol, we saw a number of statues all throughout the building. One statue that used to be there and now resides in the American History Museum is one that was too weird to keep displaying where the government was trying to do business, this bizarre rendering of George Washington:

In the political campaigning section, you'll find all manner of protest signs, buttons and bumper stickers, and one of those Florida ballots that caused all the trouble in 2000. You can totally see how someone intending to vote for Al Gore might have voted for Pat Buchanan -- and how little chance of making a mistake you'd have trying to vote for George W. Bush. (And the sign nearby reminds you of this moment when everybody had to learn what a "hanging chad" was.)

The pop culture section was a feast for any fan of anything -- it boasts the ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz, one of Prince's guitars, an Alien egg, Captain America's shield from The Winter Soldier,  the original (not yet blue) Grover puppet, and so very much more. It even had two costumes from Star Trek: Discovery -- the Emperor's outfit from the Mirror Universe, and the Red Angel suit from season 2.

But soon we had had our fill of standing and admiring things, no matter how interesting. So we decided to sit for a leisurely lunch at a nearby pub, slowly passing the time before we needed to head to the airport for our return home.

There's a ton to see and do in Washington D.C. In talking about my trip, I've had many people tell me they recall going there as a kid -- and that totally makes sense. But I think there's probably even more to appreciate as an adult. I'm glad to have visited.

Your Vacation, Should You Choose to Accept It....

After the Air and Space Museum, it was well past time for lunch. We wound up getting that at the Wharf, a collection of restaurants and stores along the Washington Channel. The Wharf hadn't been a "planned stop" on our trip, but was a lucky find; it was just a nice spot on the water with plenty to see.

Then it was time for our second museum of the day, the International Spy Museum. It's one of many DC museums that isn't part of the Smithsonian Institution, but it's well worth going. It's a perfectly curated collection of artifacts and stories of real spycraft, peppered with just a hint of famous fictional spies.

In the museum, you can hear about revolutionaries who spied on the British for George Washington's forces. You can learn about a tunnel painstakingly cut beneath the Berlin Wall. You can see real-life Bond-style gadgets used to surveil, pass messages, assassinate, and more. I learned about Julia Child's unexpected connection to intelligence gathering. About the brilliant Russian spy hung out to dry by Stalin. About the real Mata Hari, not the much glamorized version of fiction. And you get to role play a little, if you're into it: as you move through the exhibit, a series of computer stations presents you with a cover identity, a mission, complications to avoid, and ultimately a debrief.

And then, in a special extra exhibit, we saw a collection of more than a dozen different vehicles from James Bond movies. They ranged from pristine to bullet-riddled, from tiny taxi to huge speedboat/glider combo, from the 1960s to the 2000s. A fun little walk through film history that made me want to go back and watch some of those movies again.

Then we decided to go to the Washington Monument. While it is possible to go inside, tickets are incredibly limited, released the day before, and get snatched up in literally seconds. We'd been trying every day to get in without success, and now knew for sure we wouldn't be going inside before we returned home. Previously, hoping that we would get in, we hadn't really gone up close to the monument on our initial tour of the National Mall on day one -- and so we did so now.

It turned out to be fortuitous, because as we were touring the plaza around the Washington Monument, we saw a marine helicopter circle and land in the lawn at the White House. Still reeling over how neat that had looked (and what great pictures we snapped of it), we watched as the helicopter took off again, made a circuit around the monument, then went back and landed at the White House again. And again. And again. Some kind of practice drill, clearly.

But it was enough to spur us to head in the direction of the White House. It turns out that you can't get anywhere near as close to it as you used to be able to -- barriers and stern-looking guards establish a perimeter many blocks away from the building itself. Still, the marine helicopter kept entertaining us as we got as close we could, snapped a few pictures... 

And then decided it was time for dinner, and for closing down for the night. We had one final day in DC remaining.

Up, Up, and Away

Of all the many, many museums that make up the Smithsonian Institution, arguably the most well-known is the Air and Space Museum on the National Mall. That was our destination at the start of Washington D.C. day three. Because of its popularity, and the fact that half the museum is currently closed for remodeling, you need timed entry tickets to go right now (so they can manage the number of people inside). We'd set those up ahead of time, for the moment the museum opened.

Things start immediately inside the door, with the original filming model of the Enterprise from the original Star Trek. As part of a recent refurbishment, they've wired it for lighting, so for five minutes at the top of each hour, you can see it looking just like it does on your TV screen -- which we caught as we came in the door. Given how long the model was likely built to last in the 1960s, there's probably a real "ship of Theseus" quality to what's on display here. (How much of the model is really the original? How much of that even still exists after multiple refurbishments?) I don't think that detracts in the slightest from the thrill of seeing it.

The museum is divided into many galleries, and the first we came to was for the Wright Brothers. Extensive displays chronicle their efforts to build the first airplane, detailing all the versions leading up to their success, their bicycle-building background and how it informed their design, and much more. Plus, of course, the original flyer sits right there at the center of the room. Perhaps the most striking thing about it is, frankly, the rest of the museum -- the short window of time in which everything else you can see there came into existence after the original invention. (For example, the Wright's first airplane built expressly for military purposes is in another gallery of the museum; it was built less than a decade after their successful flyer.)

The museum keeps up with the times. Part of one gallery is devoted to drones, displaying one of the first remote-piloted drones used to deliver something (medical supplies). That same gallery displays one of the earliest planes meant for personal use, and oddities like a combination car/plane that detaches from its own wings to become one of the stranger-looking things you might encounter on the road.

My favorite gallery in the museum will surprise no one: it's the crewed space flight area. There, you can see the actual capsules from all three of NASA's 1960s programs. The Mercury capsule is from Alan Shepherd's first flight; it is so shockingly claustrophobic that I don't think I could even sit in it with the door off. Gemini is represented by Gemini VII, the capsule from the mission that tested a rendezvous between craft in space. Apollo is represented by, what else, Columbia -- the command module from Apollo 11. And besides the module itself, the gallery boasts Neil Armstrong's EV suit.

Fictional space travel is represented in the museum by more than just the Enterprise. While the gallery devoted to other planets has replicas of probes like Mariner and Clementine, it also includes a prop Tribble and a set of Spock's ears gifted by the Nimoy family. And if Star Wars is more your thing, hanging in the rafters in the main hall, you can see a full size fighter from the set of the sequel Star Wars movies. More interested in things here on Earth? A gallery on speed boasted a rocket-powered car, and Evel Knievel's motorcycle.

And as I said, all this was only half of what the museum could showcase when fully open and not being remodeled; just this much took us several hours to see.

There's tons to see and do in Washington D.C., but if you should ever find yourself there with limited time, I'd definitely recommend that the Air and Space Museum makes the cut.

Artistic Endeavor

After touring the U.S. Capitol Building, we made our way around the grounds to the west side of the building. We happened upon a quiet little garden that, I learned from Google Maps, is called Summerhouse. It's hardly hidden -- besides being on the map, a sidewalk takes you straight to it. But there was no one else inside when we arrived, and we stopped for a short rest in unusual solitude, compared to the frenetic pace of the day so far.

We then walked by a few smaller monuments near the Capitol, including the horse-mounted Ulysses S. Grant, before eventually renting scooters once more to take us to the American Art Museum.

Spread across three sprawling floors, this part of the Smithsonian isn't on the National Mall... though that, plus the later afternoon hours, meant it was far less crowded than you might expect. We wandered for hours until tired feet finally caught up with us, but we saw lots of interesting pieces in that time. A personal favorite of mine was a collection of fancy-looking pieces that had been done up in aluminum foil by artist James Hampton. The same "found objects" section of the museum had statues made of bottlecaps, unusual wind chimes made of random trash, and more. I was also taken by Alexis Rockman's 40-foot wide canvas titled "Manifest Destiny," a disturbing apocalyptic hellscape.

The museum also included portraits throughout, including one by Joseph Silfred Duplessis that many people would recognize: the painting of Benjamin Franklin is the basis of his image on the $100 bill. Plus interesting landscapes from Yellowstone, painted in places I'd personally visited (albeit created at a time before the place was even designated a National Park). And so very much more.

We grabbed dinner at Founding Farmers Distillery, a restaurant that not only made its own spirits, but apparently its own everything. I tend to go for seafood when closer to the ocean (with an expectation of it tasting better than I can get in Colorado), and that worked well for me on this occasion.

And finally, once the sun fell and a very pleasant evening set in, we found a rooftop bar (it seems many hotels in D.C. have one) to just relax in the slight breeze and sit -- blessedly, sit -- a spell before turning in for the evening. Our trip was half complete.

Prose and Congress

Visiting the Supreme Court may have turned out to be a bit of a bummer, but the next couple of stops on our tour of were much better. We went next to the nearby Library of Congress (specifically, the Thomas Jefferson Building).

Once you get inside, it's not the "row after row of books" you might conjure in your imagination when you think of a library. That does exist, down on the main floor -- which you can only access if you have a membership or are on a special tour. (But you do get to look down on that beautiful space from a gallery above.) Instead, the main area you actually tour is a large, beautiful foyer filled with all sorts of ornate designs. A small sample of the Library's collection is displayed throughout for museum-style viewing. Always on display (I believe) are a copy of the Gutenberg Bible, and a notable early world map said to be the first to depict the Americas.

Among the rotating exhibits was a look at the work of a political cartoonist from the Nixon/Watergate era, and a photo exhibition filled with all sorts of provocative, amusing, and thoughtful images. Both these exhibits highlighted that the Library of Congress is not solely about "books," but about the preservation and cataloguing of knowledge in many forms.

After the Library of Congress, we grabbed lunch at a nearby pizza place. I mention this not so much for the pizza (though it was fine), but for the way it showcased a wholly different "9 to 5" world in Washington, D.C. It's not that we were trying to eavesdrop, but people really carry on enthusiastic conversations in public places (and might want to curtail that, to advance their careers). On the walk to lunch, one woman was proudly declaring her 6 years of job security: she works in a U.S. senator's office. At lunch, we overheard two men planning what seemed like a minor coup d'etat of the congregation of their local church. (I didn't even mention dinner the night before, where one intern was discussing the juiciest piece of dirt she'd ever dug up on a rival politician. Only adultery, which was too commonplace to be too damning anymore.)

After lunch, we went to tour the U.S. Capitol building. As increasingly goes without saying on this trip, it was a beautiful space, inside and out. Where you get to go is limited; you can be taken to the actual floor of the House or the Senate, but you need special dispensation given in advance from your local Congressperson.

Side story: we looked into that ahead of time... but our Congressperson, thanks to a district line moving just a couple of miles in 2020, is now Ken Buck, Republican representative who actually realized a few months ago that he was no longer loathsome enough to continue in the current, MAGA-dominated incarnation of the Republican party. He actually showed a modicum of integrity and resigned from Congress, leaving his vacant seat to be filled in a special election this month. But it meant that at the time of our D.C. visit, our seat in Congress was vacant, with no one able to field any tour requests (for the Capitol or the White House, which requires similar arrangements).

Still, what you see of the Capitol on the public tour is pretty neat. You get to visit the rotunda, a cavernous round space lined with massive paintings and large statues (where people of import, including presidents, sometimes lie in state upon their deaths). You also get to visit the original main room of Congress, from when the Congress was small enough to fit in such a room. It's now home to dozens and dozens of statues. Apparently, every state is allowed to designate two statues to display somewhere in the Capitol, and many of them are assembled here. (The newest was just two weeks old, with one state recently having changed out their statue.)

We found one of the two Colorado statues down on the lower floor near the tour ticket desk -- it's astronaut Jack Swigert (the one played by actor Kevin Bacon in Apollo 13). The statue had caught our eye even before our tour began, because we actually recognized it. There is an identical statue at Denver International Airport, standing outside the train station on concourse B. (At the end of our entire trip, we'd take another photo with that one just to "collect the set.")

After the tour at the Capitol, there's a rather large museum area you can spend time in... and we did. I found this something of a mixed bag. The series of dioramas showing how D.C. (and specifically, the Capitol itself) filled in over the centuries struck me as very neat. I was less enchanted by the fawning video of the business of the Senate, painting the crassest behavior in the noblest light. (It gave me more of those "maybe some people ought to visit the basement sometime" vibes.) But overall, the Capitol was a beautiful place to visit.

We had a couple more stops before we ended our day... which I'll pick up next time.

My Day in Court

Day two in Washington D.C. began with a visit to the Supreme Court. It's basically impossible to get inside on a day when business is being conducted: with limited seating and high demand, people routinely pay "line sitters" to hold space to get inside and see the court actually in session. In sharp contrast, on a day when the court is not in session -- Fridays, generally, as this was -- you can basically just go in and walk around.

If you pay any attention to the rulings coming out of the Supreme Court (and if you don't, you really should), then it won't surprise you to learn that the building is full of contradictions. In light of the increasingly partisan rulings have been handed down of late, ever less respectful of precedent and divorced from sound reasoning, the place is really feeling like a museum celebrating cognitive dissonance.

You enter on the lower floor, which is literally set up like a museum with interactive exhibits, busts and portraits of past Justices, and a viewing room devoted to one of the Court's most-celebrated rulings: Brown vs. Board of Education (desegregating schools).

One of the interactive exhibits presents short summaries of the arguments presented in a real past case, inviting you to tap your own decision. You then learn how the Court actually ruled. You might expect such an exhibit to focus on cases that vindicated individual rights, or perhaps to offer background placing rulings in historical context. Instead, the exhibit almost proudly tells you how and where the Supreme Court says it's OK for you to be surveilled, to what degree this freedom or that was cabined, and so on.

With so many Justices in the history of the Court, too many to display them all, you might expect that those who are featured in statue or portrait would be selected for specific reasons. And you might expect someone to curate what sort of message those reasons might be sending -- as they are with the wing devoted to the small handful of women to thus far serve on the Court. But it's pretty hard to understand, say, why the placard by Harry Blackmun's portrait is a few short sentences boldly declaring his foundational authorship of Roe v. Wade when the Court has pointedly (and years ago now) overruled that case. ("This guy was great. WRONG. But great." seems to be the message.)

And that viewing room devoted to Brown v. Board of Education? It showcases the biggest lack of self-awareness of them all. In a room featuring artifacts related to the case, you can sit and watch a short film in which several of the current Justices give interviews about how foundational and transformative that ruling was. Several, not all. It feels notable which Justices couldn't seem to find 10 minutes to sit in front of a camera and say that they're OK with one of the country's most foundational anti-racist rulings.

But Clarence Thomas found the time. And that is rich. Literally 8 days before I was sitting in this room watching this film, Thomas authored a solo concurrence (in Alexander v. South Carolina State Conference of the NAACP) in which he argued that the government overstepped in the Brown II ruling (the case that followed up the original with a stern "we meant what we said, dummies"). Down in the Supreme Court basement, Clarence Thomas is telling gormless tourists every 10 minutes how important Brown was. Upstairs, he's writing that it was government overreach.

Basically... most of the sitting Justices on the Supreme Court really need to take a trip down to the basement. It's long been clear to me that most of them are blithely uncaring of the real-world harms brought about by their mockery of jurisprudence. And no, it's not like they're personally responsible for what's going on next to the Court gift shop (woefully shy on interesting items, by the way), nor even that they should devote much time to such things. But they've really got quite a monument to their own ignorance going on down there.

And also: here's a cool shot of the room itself where all the "magic" happens:

 

So, uh.... yeah... the Supreme Court is a very impressive and beautiful building with many impressive things to see. And going there was a totally dispiriting, if not enraging, experience.

National Mall, The Sequel

I return now to the National Mall, on our first afternoon in D.C., picking up our tour of the monuments with the Korean War Veterans Memorial. The path into the Memorial is a sort of diorama in steel, a scene of soldiers in combat gear that evokes a little of what it might have like to be there. The memorial includes versions of elements that appear in other nearby memorials -- it has a wall of fallen soldiers (like the Vietnam Memorial), a list of United Nations member nations (like the U.S. states at the War II Memorial). It seems to me that the Korean War has become somewhat forgotten amid other conflicts; perhaps there's something poetic in this memorial being overshadowed by others in D.C. that have used similar elements in more striking fashion?

The nearby Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial is quite the opposite. The path in to see it leads through what feels like a narrow gap between two massive white walls. You emerge to see a huge stone, and have to circle around to see the towering statue of the man himself. He's still not fully emerged from the block from which its carved -- to me a fitting symbol of his life's work for equality, not yet fully finished.

We then made our way along the Tidal Basin to a memorial I hadn't even known was there until I'd begun planning for the trip, one to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. It turned out to be one of the most distinct memorials, built almost as more of an "art installation" rather than in the large scale format of so many of the others. Walls, greenery, and waterfalls divide the memorial into four "rooms," one for each of the presidential terms he was elected to serve. Spread between the rooms are different statues of Roosevelt, different famous quotes from him, a representation of Eleanor Roosevelt -- with a pleasant, tranquil feeling throughout. I'd call it a highlight among the D.C. monuments, and well worth a visit.

You have to keep walking a fair distance around the Tidal Basin to reach the Jefferson Memorial, and so when we happened upon some rent-a-scooters, we gave that a shot. It took my husband and I a few minutes to download the app and get set up, since neither of us had ever done it before. And then it turned out to be more a "check off the list: 'rented a scooter'" moment than anything else. The app had "every place near any memorial" marked as a no parking zone and wouldn't let you end the ride there -- so we ended up riding past Jefferson and walking back in from the other direction. (Though it left me curious: when you see abandoned scooters left in strange places -- as we did here, right outside the Jefferson Memorial -- what's up with that? Are people just eating the fines you're warned will apply if you do that?)

In any case, the Jefferson Memorial features a tall statue of the man, in the center of a high-domed space, surrounded by four quotes from him (including a portion of the Declaration of Independence). One quote in particular, about the need to adapt laws to follow the times, struck me in particular. This "original" Founder, it seems to me, would have found the concept of "originalism" appalling. Certain Supreme Court justices are (as always) using cherry-picked history to support their preconceived views, and deliberately ignoring contrary evidence... say, carved in marble only a mile or two away.

At the end of such a long walk and travel day, we decided to call it. We went for dinner at a nice Indian restaurant, feeling slightly underdressed (and learning only later that indeed, we were probably right on the line of acceptable for the actual dress code they had). Then it was trying to get a good night's sleep to prepare for the next big day.

Let's Go to the Mall!

My recent visit to Washington D.C. began early. So early that I can't even say "bright and early," because it wasn't bright -- the sun had only just come up as the plane took off. But with the early departure came an early arrival; my husband and I arrived with plenty of time to do plenty of things on our first day.

We grabbed lunch and a "gold pin" beer at Capitol City Brewing Company. If I haven't explained the beer pins on the blog before: many years ago, I bought a neat map of the U.S. showing every then-operating craft brewery. Over the years, I've dutifully stuck silver pins in the breweries we've sampled, and gold pins in the ones we've actually visited in our travels. While we may never collect a gold pin in every state, we never miss an opportunity to grab one on each vacation.

After lunch and hotel check-in, we headed down to the National Mall to walk a long circuit of the monuments. We began at the Washington Monument and worked our way west, stopping first at the World War II Memorial. It's an especially beautiful site, incorporating numerous elements: huge granite pillars, the Rainbow Pool that previously existed on the site, a wall of stars commemorating the dead, and several bas relief scenes of the war. I've read that the site of this memorial was somewhat controversial in the early 2000s, but there was a rush to complete it in light of the advancing age of WWII veterans. Regardless, the end result is beautiful.

From there, we walked along the length of the Reflecting Pool (which looks so much cleaner and appealing in the movies) to the Lincoln Memorial. That site is undergoing a rather extensive renovation right now, in preparation for the 250th anniversary of the U.S. in 2026. The Memorial presents a rather less impressive figure with most of the steps shrouded in scaffolding and plywood walls... though you can still get in to see the massive Lincoln statue -- and (just barely outside the construction walls), the marked spot where Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech.

The nearby Vietnam Memorial is markedly different from every other memorial. It is famously jet black, in contrast to the white marble of all the other sites. Its statement is deliberately simple; though there are a few statues at the perimeter, the focus is the long walls with the names of fallen soldiers. It's also the last war memorial where you can still expect to see veterans and their families -- on personal visits, or attending reunions. (And perhaps that won't be part of the experience for all that much longer, with time marching on.)

Next we moved back past the Lincoln Memorial to reach the sites on the south side of the Mall. But since our afternoon walk was not even half done, and I think this post has already run long enough, I'll pause at this moment to pick up the tour next time.

Discovery: Life, Itself

Hello, readers! I've just returned from a vacation to Washington D.C., with plenty of stories to share. But I also missed a lot while I was gone, and today I'm going to lead with that. Thursday in particular was a big day, bringing the "guilty on all 34 counts" verdict in Donald Trump's business fraud trial and -- much less historic, but much more in keeping with the regular fare on my blog -- the series finale of Star Trek: Discovery.

Yes, I'm a Trekker through-and-through, so the top item on my mind is the end of a Star Trek series.

In the finale, "Life, Itself," Burnham tries to unlock the Progenitor technology from inside a dimensional rift, and tries to convince Moll to work with her. Meanwhile, Discovery tries to keep a Breen dreadnought at bay, and Saru tries to prevent a Breen fleet from joining the fray. 

Stepping back, I'd say that over the years, I've probably been more "pro-Discovery" than the average viewer. I have loved it for the elements I've pointed to many times over the years: the excellent acting of Sonequa Martin-Green, the astonishing production values, the truly diverse cast of characters which (for the first time in Star Trek) has included plenty of LGBT+ representation.

But it may be true that I cut Discovery some slack simply for getting this whole ball rolling again. As I'm winding up my reviews of Star Trek: Voyager, and on the cusp of turning to Enterprise, I've been thinking about some very complicated feelings I have about that latter show -- including that Enterprise basically killed Star Trek for years (until J.J. Abrams revived it). That alone casts a shadow of negativity over the series... and Discovery is exactly the opposite in that regard. For whatever flaws Discovery had, it's the show that reignited Star Trek to a point where five (!) different first-run Star Trek series were all in production at the same time. Second only to the original series itself, Discovery is the show most responsible for there being Star Trek right now.

Yes, Discovery did have its flaws. And I think once it spawned so many other Star Trek series to compare it to, those flaws became more evident... which is why I also may have been a bit more down on the last season than most. Or down on the formula, at least: no crisis is so great that we can't stop to dwell on our feelings; no episode is really able to stand on its own thanks to its total integration with a larger story arc.

So, bearing in mind that my perspective is one of a "more forgiving Discovery fan beginning to slowly sour on it," I thought the finale was fine. It was better as a season finale than a series finale. In tying up the fifth season Progenitor story, it resolved the story in really the only way it could have (spoiler, but an utterly expected one: no one ends up with the technology). It didn't quite have enough for all the characters to do (especially Tilly, Stamets, Adira, and Reno), but it addressed all the thematic elements of the season.

In particular, the way the episode dealt with spirituality was fittingly nebulous. Pointedly, the Progenitors were shown not to be "gods," having themselves found this technology rather than creating it. And Culber's season-long spiritual crisis was given both a spiritual and scientific explanation in the end, with Culber himself able to take from his journey whichever answer resonated with him more. Moll's story remained a big "whatever" for me (especially Booker reconciling with her), but that story needed a conclusion whether I was invested in it or not.

As a series finale? I think the episode was more of a disappointment -- and could only have been, thanks to the way it came about. After filming the intended season finale, the writers learned of Discovery's cancellation... but were given an opportunity to come back and conclude the series with a "coda" attached to the last episode. There were many compromises: some sets had already been torn down (limiting where the story could be filmed), and only three production days would be given to film whatever they wrote.

Unfortunately, the existence of the Short Trek "Calypso" basically necessitated that a large chunk of this coda be devoted to connecting the dots to what we were shown there. And the writers' greater investment in Burnham and Booker as a couple basically prescribed how the rest of the time would be spent. Put those two elements together, and you have almost no choice to go back to the well that multiple other Star Trek series have visited in their finales: a flash-forward to the future. It was an amazing concept when The Next Generation did it first; there were diminishing returns when Voyager and Enterprise went there too.

So what were we left with for the rest of the characters? A wordless "party" on the bridge, a moment that may have been Burnham's memory, or may have been her imagination. No real closure or goodbye for any of them, or even a hint (aside from a mention of Tilly's Academy teaching career) of how their lives went in the intervening decades. Yeah, this is probably the best they could do with just three days and only the bridge to work with. Still... it's disappointing.

I give "Life, Itself" a B-. But don't get me wrong: I still have fond feelings for Star Trek: Discovery overall. It was a truly different kind of Star Trek show, and remained so even after it directly led to the near doubling of Star Trek shows one can compare to.