Maximum Effort?

This past weekend, like many people (and, I think, most readers of this blog), I went to the movie theater to see Deadpool & Wolverine. Of course, like those people, I have an opinion.

In many of my blog posts, this is the paragraph where I insert a brief synopsis of the show/movie/book/game I'm here to blog about. And while there is a story here, about protecting a decaying timeline and escaping from a form of purgatory, all the movie is really promising is what it says on the label: a team-up of these two characters (and the actors who've been playing them for years).

From that standpoint, Deadpool & Wolverine is a huge success. It's a madcap joke machine, so much so that it's hard to talk about without turning into Saturday Night Live's classic "The Chris Farley Show" sketch. ("Remember when that happened? That was awesome.") You get sight gags, wordplay, running gags.... a touch of high-brow and a lot of low-brow.... plenty of extremely niche jokes that maybe only a handful of people in a theater would laugh at, which is fine, because there will be 20 more jokes in the next two minutes for everybody else.

They're generally super-funny. More importantly, a lot of them are really inspired and clever. Cameo appearances are used to especially hilarious and unexpected effect. Deadpool's trademark fourth wall breaks are used just as often to refer to things far outside the Marvel universe, inviting people to join in the fun if they can't recite chapter and verse (issue and page) on comic book minutia. Deadpool & Wolverine is a joyful, hilarious movie to watch.

All that said... I actually watched Deadpool 2 the night before going to see it -- and if you're paying attention to the story itself? Deadpool 2 (and, as I recall, the first Deadpool before it) are downright masterpieces compared to the shoddy, threadbare nature of the story in this threequel. The onset of jeopardy here is painfully arbitrary. It's also complicated, exposition-heavy, and requires so much "extracurricular reading" (that's: viewing/memory of other content in the Marvel universe), that the movie can't even actually start with it; it's all so tedious that a flashback structure is required just to make sure something entertaining kicks off the movie. (A deliriously funny opening credits sequence.)

A complicated act one somehow gives way to an almost totally unrelated act two where all new elements have to be introduced. Then an especially Macguffin-driven act three wraps it all up in a sloppily tied bow. And that's not even getting into the many plot holes throughout -- often not mere nitpicks, but foundational narrative questions where the story contradicts basic tenets it sets in place, or fails to consider obvious "but what about?" questions by the concepts it asserts. It's really not a good story.

It's also a story that takes much of what was great about Deadpools 1 and 2 and boxes them in the attic. While it's true that no one went to a Deadpool movie to see Blind Al, Domino, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Colossus, or Dopinder -- those elements were actually some of the funniest parts of those earlier movies. Some of them aren't in Deadpool & Wolverine at all, and even the characters who are get even less screen time than many of the jokey cameos I mentioned earlier. Sure, Ryan Reynolds was always the best thing about the Deadpool movies... but not the only good thing about the Deadpool movies. And it's a bit of a disappointment to lose that other great stuff.

But ultimately, the movie is faithfully executing the "contract" you "sign" in seeing it. To a large extent, it doesn't matter how bad the story is; the story is just a bare bones framework to get the two title characters together. It doesn't matter if there are no meaningful moments for any other character from Deadpool or Deadpool 2; the point here is to make as much time as possible for "Deadpool & Wolverine." So my criticisms, no matter how apt I may think they are, can kind of only weigh so much in the final analysis.

And in that final analysis? This movie makes you laugh a lot. It's a fun buddy cop movie in a superhero costume, with jokes that work, an irrepressible wit, and tons of action. So ultimately, I'll give Deadpool & Wolverine a B+. I enjoyed it that much. Better not to dwell on its shortcomings.

Prodigy: Temporal Mechanics 101

I close out a week full of Star Trek with a few more thoughts on Prodigy season 2 -- picking up with episode four, "Temporal Mechanics 101."

Gwyn's existence is destabilizing due to changes in the time stream, and Voyager is too far away to arrive in time. But help is close at hand; Dal and the shuttle team are there on the same planet, albeit decades in the future. If they can just figure out how to travel back in time to the present, perhaps there is something they can do to save Gwyn.

As opposed to the previous episode of Prodigy, which leaned heavily into the adventure and action, this episode changes pace to be a bit more thoughtful. Perhaps this means it doesn't work as well for the younger audience it's aimed at, but I really liked the different tone. Prodigy has really been successful at building characters you can care about (despite their understandably cartoonish qualities), and an episode like this really takes advantage of that audience connection.

Here, the episode is essentially about getting the whole band back together in one place. I've enjoyed Gwyn's separate mission so far -- the alien environment, the elevated themes within her story, and the more adult tone of it -- but I'm also very glad that she's not going to be siloed off in her own narrative for much of the season. Just 20% into the story, and it's time to gather everyone in one place. I appreciate the writers not stretching the taffy too far here.

But what I really appreciate is the way they're using John Noble as Ilthuran this season. Season one presented both actor and character in full villain mode (real "Denethor eating tomatoes" vibes), but now season two shows that both have another gear. It's great to have Ilthuran acting as a caring father to Gwyn, and I'm interested to see what his role in the story will be in episodes to come.

Of course, the episode wasn't all seriousness. There were good laughs throughout, including the return of Jankom Pog's "percussive maintenance" and getting to see the much-talked-about "Temporal Mechanics 101" book (narrated/hosted by Star Trek's actual science advisor, Erin MacDonald). The broader plot also expanded, as Murf interacted with a mysterious helper -- who gives off "Future Guy from Enterprise" vibes that I hope wind up going in a very different direction than that sooner rather than later.

In all, I think the season continues to be entertaining. "Temporal Mechanics 101" is another solid B+ in my book.

Voyager Flashback: Endgame

After seven seasons on the air, like Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine before it, Star Trek: Voyager signed off with a huge two-part episode. This was literally Voyager's "Endgame."

Decades in the future, the surviving crew of Voyager observes the bittersweet anniversary of their return home. Admiral Janeway regrets one particular decision that led to events unfolding as they did, and plots to travel back in time. There, she must convince her younger self to use a Borg transwarp conduit as a shortcut home. But Captain Janeway wants to instead destroy the conduit to protect the Alpha Quadrant.

Up front, let me say: "Endgame" is a decent enough series finale to Voyager. There's plenty of action and adventure. Subplots honor the relationships we've seen over the years (Tom and B'Elanna, Janeway and Tuvok). We get one more clash against the Borg, the fun of seeing older versions of many of the characters, and most importantly, Voyager does make it home. Essentially, the finale ticks all the required boxes.

Yet at the same time, this finale feels far inferior to me to "what might have been." For one thing, there's a certain lack of originality to it. The finale of The Next Generation was a time-hopping adventure that took us to the future, and here's Voyager cribbing that idea (and not really improving upon it). As for the Borg, Voyager has clashed against them so many times as to thoroughly declaw them. Seeing Alice Krige return as the Borg Queen is great (with all the same twisted sensuality she brought when first portraying the character), and the logic of "one final Borg adventure" undeniable... but it's not as if there's any suspense over the outcome.

But my real criticism is that the Voyager finale ends just when it gets to the best part. To me, the major dramatic question is not simply "does Voyager make it home?" but "what happens to everyone once they do get home?" Our glimpses of an alternate universe fail to scratch that itch (since rewriting history means it all never happens). In my opinion, Voyager should have done what Deep Space Nine did in its final season, devoting multiple episodes to a long "finale" story arc. Voyager should have made it home with many episodes still to come, so it could then pursue the many interesting dramatic opportunities that would have opened up.

What happens when Janeway has to defend her many questionable decisions to Starfleet, or actually come face-to-face with the fiancé who moved on without her? What happens with Chakotay and B'Elanna, and the rest of the Maquis crew? How do B'Elanna and Tom reconcile (or not) with their estranged fathers? Harry Kim has wanted to get home more than anyone; what's it like for him to see that dream come true? What is it like for Tuvok to reunite with his family, and have to deal with the strong emotions as a proper Vulcan should? What's it like for the Doctor to lose the place that makes him special, and have to fight to assert his personhood? What's it like for Seven of Nine to acclimate to a strange new world? What about Neelix? (Who, as I said, should have made it back to Earth instead of being written out early.) Does Icheb get to become a Starfleet cadet? Why not check in on Barclay and Troi, who became not-insignificant parts of Voyager's story in later seasons?

Nope, all of that is just left for fan-fiction to address. What a missed opportunity.

So it's perhaps hard for me to fairly rate the finale we got, rather than the finale in my head. But fair would be to get specific about the many elements here that do work. Opening with Voyager and a fireworks display over the Golden Gate Bridge is a clever, instant tease. Harry Kim makes captain! We see grown-up Naomi Wildman and Miral (Tom and B'Elanna's daughter). The Doctor settles on the name "Joe." Tuvok's deteriorating mental faculties make for a moving proxy for dementia (though I do wish it hadn't just come out of nowhere for this one final episode). We see Seven keeping in touch with Neelix via "long-distance phone calls." Ensign Kim delivers a big motivational speech before the climax.

And yeah, there are a few elements don't work so well. The unearned romance between Chakotay and Seven of Nine. (Had it continued all along from the earlier episode where Seven tested these waters on the holodeck, that would be something. Instead, it comes out of nowhere all over again.) Captain Janeway has a weirdly adamant reaction to discovering the Borg transwarp hub. (Basically: "I will turn this car around!") And the idea that the Borg are defeated "once and for all" here seems clearly ridiculous (even if the writers genuinely thought in the moment that there would be no more Star Trek ever in that time frame). How about those abrupt end credits, which roll almost the moment Voyager emerges from the wormhole near Earth?

Other observations:

• The future Starfleet uniforms from "All Good Things..." get another on-screen appearance here.

• Old Tuvok's photo of his friends aboard Voyager is clearly just a real-world publicity photo of the cast.

• Regular guest actor Vaughn Armstong collects one more appearance on Voyager's way out the door, as the Klingon captain.

I wish the Voyager finale felt like less of a "remix" of other Star Trek finale (and movie) elements. And I really wish that it had made space to show us more of "life back on Earth" after the crew gets home. But, as a pure action-adventure conclusion that does tie everything up in some way, "Endgame" works alright. I give it a B+.

As always at the end of a season, let me list what I thought were the top five episodes: "Author, Author," "Shattered," "Endgame," "Workforce" (part one), and "Prophecy." And then, let me move on with a few final thoughts about Star Trek: Voyager as a whole:

Re-watching all seven seasons of Star Trek: Voyager, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the show was better than I remembered. I think in the series' original run, I was focused a lot on how it wasn't as good as Deep Space Nine. (And that part, to be sure, is still true.) But when you're not getting an episode of both series each week, the contrast between them doesn't seem as sharp.

On the other hand, how Voyager is better than I remembered is an important consideration. In my view, it gets there by quite reliably delivering episodes of a fairly consistent quality. There really aren't that many "stinkers" in Voyager's run (far fewer, in fact, than in Star Trek: The Next Generation). Yet at the same time, there really aren't that many "all-time greats" either. In 168 episodes, I only ever gave an A- grade to two of them -- and none ever got an unqualified A. That's in sharp contrast to both The Next Generation and Deep Space Nine, each of which has at least a dozen contenders if you were building a "best episodes of Star Trek" list. I think the writing on Voyager risks less, and that puts both a floor and a ceiling on the quality of the episodes. On the other hand, if you're going to watch a randomly selected episode of a Star Trek series, your odds of getting an enjoyable one seem much higher with Voyager.

Next up? I am moving onto a re-watch of Enterprise (later renamed Star Trek: Enterprise). That is going to be interesting, for reasons I'll touch on when I'm back to review its pilot episode, "Broken Bow."

Out (Re)Done

Though Pixar has made a number of classic, excellent movies, the original Inside Out is my favorite. My thoughts on us getting a sequel were thus a bit complicated, perhaps much like fans of Toy Story felt when a sequel to that was first announced. Ah... but Toy Story 2 was better than the original, and Toy Story 3 better still. (Even those who dispute that widely acknowledge the trilogy to be great. And the fourth movie: fine.) All that is to say: I looked forward to Inside Out 2 with cautious optimism.

Inside Out 2 is not Toy Story 2; it does not surpass its first movie. But neither is it a Toy Story 4; it's notably better.

Everything you loved about Inside Out is lovingly brought back for the sequel. (Well, except Bing Bong, of course.) You get all the hyper-colored visuals, incredibly clever metaphors for the world of emotions inside your mind, and razor-sharp vocal performances from a top-notch cast. But the sequel is here to add more, of course. Young Riley has become a teenager, and so all-new emotions are moving in to assert themselves. New conflict ensues.

The same cleverness of the first movie continues here. The new emotions added to the mix are the perfect choices for a teenager, and the way they're presented on screen is pitch perfect. Maya Hawke runs away with the movie with her vocal performance for Anxiety, and the animation heightens that performance brilliantly. But there are plenty of other great ideas throughout, from simple puns brought to life to elaborate visualizations of where ideas themselves come from.

In the manner of Pixar's "best of the best," there's weighty emotional material at the climax of the narrative, moving storytelling about dealing with anxiety, and a lovely message about core identity. The movie is thoughtful and uplifting, just as the first one was.

However, Inside Out 2 is a bit of a retread -- and I don't mean just in the way that all sequels are retreads. While the story of both movies is nominally about the girl Riley, the actual protagonist of both movies is the emotion Joy. And in Inside Out 2, she's kind of learning the same lesson all over again that she learned in Inside Out. You can quibble over the nuance, I'm sure, but it feels to me like she's backslid from the character growth she had in the first movie. Which is a thing that happens to real people all the time, of course, so why not a fictional character? Sure... but that's not using the first story as the most effective jumping off point to tell a second.

Still, if you set aside the ways in which much of this story was told before, if you could imagine this as the first time you were getting it? It would be pretty great! Inside Out 2 made me laugh, moved me, had me marveling at its wit, and plenty more. I'd say it made it all the way to an A- in my book, one that only maybe starts to feel more like a B+ when you do fully bring the first Inside Out into consideration. So for now, maybe I'll "pinball launch" the original into the back of my mind for a while, to more fully enjoy this new one.

Voyager Flashback: Renaissance Man

After staging a farewell episode for Neelix in its previous installment, Star Trek: Voyager uses its penultimate hour... to basically just give us a regular episode, with "Renaissance Man."

When aliens capture Captain Janeway and threaten Voyager, The Doctor must impersonate the captain (and other members of the crew) in his efforts to save the day.

In many of my write-ups of seventh season Voyager episodes, I've noted stories that felt to me like they would have been better had they appeared earlier in the run of the show. This episode runs afoul of similar issues. The Doctor has had seven years of experiences, has learned more of his own humanity and the essential humanity of his crewmates, has commanded Voyager... and generally should know better than to just hand the ship over to an alien threat as he decides to do here. He explains his thinking at one point, saying that "Voyager can get by without a warp core, but not without a captain." This is simply preposterous, devoid of logic, and not even defensible if you assume the Doctor always chooses foremost to save lives (because he's choosing to risk dozens to save one). The Doctor simply isn't this naive anymore.

However, there's a huge trade-off in telling this story so close to the end of the series: all the actors have worked together for years, and have come to know each others' performances very well. This story makes fantastic use of this by having half the cast play the Doctor (as he impersonates their characters). Kate Mulgrew, Roxann Dawson, and Robert Beltran all get a run at playing a version of the Doctor. This story doesn't call for them to give a full-on Robert Picardo impersonation (as Jeri Ryan did earlier in the season), but they all have to play their characters "just a little bit off." Mulgrew's performance in particular is important, as it occurs early in the episode before the audience knows what's going on; she leaves bread crumbs that in retrospect read as "the Doctor," without tipping off the twist too early.

The results are quite fun. The Doctor collects communicators under every sleeve and pant cuff as weird trophies of the people he's incapacitated to cover his secret. We get fun sight gags about B'Elanna's pregnancy, cool visual effects (including a warp core ejection sequence and a shot of a hundred Doctor clones), and wild hologram parkour. Plus, it's not just a Doctor episode: as a captive, Janeway tries her own ploys to escape the Overlookers; on Voyager, Chakotay's clash with and growing suspicion of "Janeway" gets a decent amount of screen time.

There are elements to this episode included only because the end of the series is nigh. Some of these work, like the Doctor's embarrassing confessions when he thinks he's about to die. Some are ineffective, like the pointless inclusion of Vorik in this episode just to get the character on screen one more time.

Other observations:

• Part of the bluff to secure Voyager's warp core is the claim that the technology is an ecohazard in local space. Warp travel as ecohazard was revealed to be true in a late episode of The Next Generation that was quickly papered over.

• What's with Tom Paris and fried chicken in this episode? And like, rather unappealing, clearly "fresh" from the refrigerator fried chicken too.

While this isn't really a "great" episode of Star Trek: Voyager, it is one that works well in a re-watch like I've been doing. When you know the twist, several early moments in the episode are extra fun. But overall, I don't love the Doctor's general stupidity, or the "slap on the wrist" he gets for defying the captain's orders. I give "Renaissance Man" a B-.

Moon-Eyed

This past Saturday was the 55th anniversary of Apollo 11's first crewed landing on the moon. And while I didn't plan it, I ended up "observing" the occasion in a cute way, by going to the theater to see the new movie Fly Me to the Moon.

The movie is the fictional story of Kelly Jones, shrewd advertising powerhouse, who takes up the job of marketing the moonshot on a distracted and somewhat skeptical public. She clashes professionally and romantically with Cole Davis, leader of the launch program. As her efforts work to raise NASA's profile and the already-high stakes of the mission, a shady government operator arrives with an ultimatum: she must ready a backup staged moon landing in case the actual Apollo 11 is unable to pull off the seemingly impossible.

I'm a sucker for all things, fiction and non-fiction, having to do with the space race era. So I'm stipulating right up front: I'm certain I liked this movie more than the average audience member would. Having thus eroded my credibility, let me try to convince you that Fly Me to the Moon is still a light and enjoyable movie that I think deserves a wider audience than it's found so far.

If you enjoyed the TV series Mad Men -- or wanted to, but found Don Draper too unlikable a protagonist -- this movie may well be for you. Kelly Jones is the smartest person in any room, and I think most people enjoy characters like that (at least, when they aren't too smug). At the same time, Kelly is a fun "mess" of a character in a way laboratory-engineered for rom-com effervescence. Scarlett Johansson is the perfect performer for this, and this movie reminds us all that she had a nimble wit long before MCU movies focused on her nimble physicality.

An effective rom-com requires two leads, of course, and Channing Tatum is a perfect foil. His Boy Scout of a character is cast in the classic "opposites attract" mold, and its fun to see Tatum's charisma in a slightly different gear than his often "bad boy" screen roles.

The script feels more clever to me than most rom-com fare, because there's a framework here for why the opposites attract. Here, the two people are both deeply committed to the same cause (in their own ways, for their own reasons). You still get the meet-cute, the softening, the hidden secret leading to the betrayal... all the stations of the rom-com cross. But the story doesn't have to contrive a reason for the opposites to continue interacting, doesn't have to justify what they ultimately see in each other... none of those more outlandish elements of a rom-com, because they're both committed to the larger cause of the moon landing.

That frees things up for more zaniness at the margins. The shenanigans of staging a fake moon landing are quite funny, and a number of great secondary characters (with fun performances) figure into this part of the plot. Woody Harrelson is a marvelous weasel as the government agent pulling the strings. Jim Rash chews the scenery as the temperamental director called upon to create the ruse. Donald Elise Watkins and Noah Robbins are a great comic pair of engineers working on the Apollo program, and veteran "that guy" Christian Clemenson plays a fun press agent / tour guide who pops in and out throughout the film.

Do you need to go see this in a movie theater? No... but ordinarily I might argue yes... but this time I'm still going to say no. Huh?

So, this summer has been marked by several movies expected to stir up box office, but which have underperformed. Many have seized upon this to argue, "you say you want Hollywood to make more movies like this, but then if you don't go see them, they're not going to keep doing it." Fly Me to the Moon feels like one of those movies -- a light bit of fun that deserves support.

On the other hand, the movie was picked up for distribution by Apple TV+, who originally did not intend it for a theatrical release. They were going to just drop it directly on their platform for streaming, until some early test screenings suggested that the ScarJo/Tatum pairing and moonshot storyline meant they had a "four-quadrant hit" on their hands. Since this theatrical run was never part of "the plan," one would hope that an underwhelming box office wouldn't really effect whether Apple TV+ backs such movies in the future; it's ultimately the number of streams that'll matter more... right?

So I guess, watch this movie in whatever format works better for you. (I'm sure it will be streamable soon enough.) Whatever that is, I say watch this movie. I found it a pleasant escape, a strong B+.

Voyager Flashback: Homestead

There were still two episodes to go in Star Trek: Voyager after "Homestead." But for one of the main characters, this was effectively the series finale.

Voyager encounters a colony of Talaxian refugees who are threatened by an alien mining group. Neelix finds kinship with the colonists as he rallies Voyager to their aid.

Here's a decades-old spoiler you'd probably have already guessed from just those few sentences: this is the episode where Neelix departs Voyager. Of course, Neelix was always one of my least favorite characters on the show, almost calibrated by the writers to be maximally annoying -- and so you may well argue that what I might want for the character's farewell is irrelevant. That said, I found this a very unsatisfying send-off for the character.

If you stipulate that the ship is going to find another group of Talaxians, then sure, Neelix choosing to remain with them would seem to make sense. These are his people, and this is a reunion Neelix never could have imagined he'd have. It is, as literally as possible, Neelix going "home," and you're looking for the character to "live happily ever after," this sure feels like that ending.

But if you accept the premise that Neelix is a hero (suspect, I know), then a major part of the hero's journey is that the journey changes you -- that, at least figuratively, you can't go home again. To have Neelix travel across half a galaxy only to have him wind up with his own people is improbable at a minimum. (How did these Talaxians make it this far without the "extra pushes" Voyager got over the years? How did Voyager even happen across this needle in a haystack?) Moreover, Neelix ending up with his own people feels like it undermines any character growth he experienced over seven years.

Neelix rarely ever expressed that he even missed home, and always seemed all-in on helping the Voyager crew reach theirs. Having him tap out before fulfilling that quest feels like a real letdown -- especially coming just in sight of the finish line like this (though, of course, Neelix has no "in-universe" way of knowing they're that close to the finish line). The decision to write Neelix out here deprives us of seeing him really face the consequences of his decision to voyage to Earth with this crew. Does he even like it when he gets there? (Ah, but then, the structure of the actual series finale doesn't leave much room for this sort of thing anyway. Which I'll get to in due course.)

Even if you endorse the idea that Neelix winding up with is own people is the right ending for his character, the way he gets there compromises his character. Neelix is a pacifist. It isn't always presented directly in the dialogue, but he's always deescalating conflict and pushing for diplomatic solutions. And you can easily connect the dots that his pacifism stems from the loss of his family to a weapon of mass destruction. So in this episode, to have Neelix take up arms and become a resistance leader? It may feel like a win for this Talaxian colony, and may even objectively be the right thing -- standing up to a bully. But for Neelix personally, it feels like he's compromised on one of his core values.

And yet, as much as I dislike the narrative of this episode, I must concede that the execution is wonderful. This episode is not just Neelix saying goodbye to Voyager, it's effectively the cast and crew of Voyager saying goodbye to Ethan Phillips. And not only are they saying goodbye to their friend, they're experiencing the onset of reality -- they're all going to be saying goodbye in less than a month of real time, when the series truly ends. It might have been easier for them to overlook that fact in the daily grind of making television, but Neelix/Ethan Phillips leaving puts that in stark relief for everybody.

As a result, all the sentiment in this episode feels quite earnest. The bookends with Tuvok (Neelix wanting him to dance, Tuvok relenting in a minor way at the last moment) is genuinely touching. B'Elanna compliments his food for once (I guess he finally got it right). Kim and Chakotay are real "bros," swinging in to talk up Neelix to the visiting Talaxians. Tuvok pays him a genuine compliment. Naomi Wildman unknowingly gives Neelix the push that makes it "okay" for him to leave. It all feels sweet without becoming too saccharine.

The production also spends a lot of money to make this episode important. We get a big CG crash of the Delta Flyer (though it strains the bounds of what could look credible at the time). There are loads of background actors in Talaxian makeup. For Neelix's farewell, every Starfleet uniform in the costume department is used to dress actual members of the production team to send off their longtime co-worker. 

Other observations:

• Without motion picture money, you can't pay for "Ooby Dooby." Thus, the Zefram Cochrane anniversary party features generic rock (I guess?) music.

• LeVar Burton directs this episode, and has some flashy moments within it. A long one take shot at the party is especially cool. And if you think about the logistics, of course the cut happens just before Naomi Wildman appears. Because of limits on how long child actors can work, you really can't put one into a long scene like this when you're trying to keep on a television schedule.

• When Neelix first wakes up in the colony, he finds he's held behind a force field. Later, we learn that he's just in someone's home. So... Dexa has a force field generator in her home?

• If you were going to pick one character to leave the show early like this, I think I would have picked Chakotay. Having him stay behind with the primitive culture of the previous episode, for example, might have been a meaningful cause for his character to find. (And he doesn't have much going for him back on Earth, that we know of.)

On paper, I really don't care for this episode. But I have to concede that the actors really make it work. Put it all together, and I give "Homestead" a B-.

Acolyte Accolades?

This week, the latest Star Wars television series concluded its eight-episode season. To me, The Acolyte was a frustratingly uneven show filled with flashes of brilliance and equally big stumbles. It didn't deserve the pre-scorn heaped upon it by insecure online trolls (of course), but I also find myself thoroughly indifferent to whether it gets a second season or not.

The Acolyte certainly excelled at several things. Foremost was creating intriguing characters -- and not even necessarily the most central ones. The young Padawan Jecki Lon, played by Dafne Keen (of His Dark Materials) was a stoic stand-out. Seeing Carrie-Anne Moss as Jedi Master Indara felt like one of the highest high points of television Star Wars (outside of Andor). And despite being at least the third black-helmeted Sith villain in Star Wars, there was something compelling about The Stranger too.

The show also did well in refreshing some stale ideas in the Star Wars universe, mostly owing to the decision to set it a century before the Skywalker saga. George Lucas really tried to make the prequel trilogy about politics and rarely hit the mark, but The Acolyte mostly succeeds in this area. The Jedi are really shown to be ignoble actors as calculating and compromised as any other group with significant power. Even more compelling to me -- though sadly only raised in the final episode -- is the character of a senator firmly opposed to the Jedi Order (for what seem to be completely valid reasons).

A lot of the fit and finish of The Acolyte is really solid too. There's excellent lightsaber choreography in multiple episodes. Alien planets and sprawling sets look even better still than other live-action Star Wars series (all of which already looked great). And I truly love the score by composer Michael Abels. Like Ludwig Göransson with The Mandalorian, he has found a new sound for the Star Wars universe; but unlike Göransson's complete departure from the John Williams template, Abels' operatic style feels more like a strong extension and exploration of what Star Wars has long sounded like.

Unfortunately, the weak aspects of The Acolyte really undermine a lot of what's enjoyable about it. Plot holes abound, largely because characters rarely behave in ways that seem to make sense for them -- they simply do the thing that the plot has ordained must happen now. Many of the most compelling ideas (that anti-Jedi senator, for example) are withheld until far too late in the season, teeing up a second season we may never get, rather than making the one season we have as interesting as possible.

And now I'm going to brush up against spoiler territory. I'll try to be oblique, but skip this paragraph if you must. The show is far too willing to kill off its own characters, and often for what amounts only to cheap shock value. From the standpoint that The Acolyte has many interesting characters, enough to spare, sure... you can make this choice. But when "no one is safe" (outside of a very few narrative-essential figures), you're soon encouraged not to emotionally invest in anyone. And the fifth or sixth "shocking death" in as many episodes is never going to hit as hard as the first.

I want to say I enjoyed The Acolyte more than not, and so I want to give it something like a B-. But I have a suspicion it will fade from my memory faster than any other televised Star Wars. (The Book of Boba Fett was aggressively bad enough to at least remember). Perhaps a C+, or "just a notch above middling," would be a more accurate mark.

Prodigy: Who Saves the Saviors

My "trek" through season two of Star Trek: Prodigy continues with the third episode, "Who Saves the Saviors."

Dal, Zero, Jankom Pog, and Maj'el arrive in the future, four hours before Captain Chakotay will undertake actions necessary to preserving the timeline. Though the cadets resolve to stay out of the way, they quickly find themselves imprisoned with Chakotay himself... and then realize that perhaps they were always meant to help him escape. Meanwhile, in the present, Gwyn challenges Asencia to ritual combat to prove her claims. But her friends' actions in the future cause ripples that thwart her in a key moment.

"Predestination paradox" is a fun science fiction device in general, and a good tool in the Star Trek kit in particular. (A couple classic Trek stories about it even get name-checked in this episode.) I'm glad to see Prodigy take it on, for both short-term fun and, apparently, to set up a longer story arc for the season.

I worried in my last review that the series might have some story "problems" this season with centering its young protagonists in the action. I think this episode showed that there are both plusses and minuses to this. Having a character like Dal is great when you need to deliver some exposition; characters on Prodigy rarely have to explain to other characters things they should already know, not when someone like Dal really doesn't know them. That's a big plus to young characters in the spotlight. On the other hand, Chakotay has a shocking lack of curiosity about where these kids really come from and why they're acting so weird -- a rather jarring minus.

Overall, though, the episode does a pretty great job putting its protagonists in the heart of the action. It's great that Zero tries to steer them clear of temporal shenanigans, only to lead everyone directly into them. And it's really great that Jankom Pog gets a big hero moment when he literally engineers everyone's escape from captivity. And while the heroes ultimately don't succeed in saving the day, it really does feel like a chance accident, not stupidity on Dal's part, that sends everything sideways. (Still, it might have been nice for someone other than Dal to have dropped the fateful weapon where Chakotay would pick it up. Dal already "screws up" plenty.)

I still like that Gwyn's story line is a disguised parable about xenophobia. Maybe it was a bit too disguised this episode, as it mainly took the form of a long hand-to-hand combat, but hey... we can't just sit around and talk all the time. And I do think the scenes on Solum are making good use of animation as a medium, showing huge sets and ornate costumes that themselves reinforce the story. The planet and its people feel alien (more than Star Trek normal, at least) -- and I don't think it's a coincidence that the Vau N'Akat leaders wear helmets that seem to literally blind them to what's really going on around them.

At this point, I think the season is still cruising along well. I give "Who Saves the Saviors" a B+.

Boy Oh Boy

Some time ago, I both praised and complained about the Netflix series The Sandman (the former mostly for the strong storytelling in the back half of the season, the latter mostly for its compressed cinematography). But now there's a newer Netflix series based on a comic book series written by Neil Gaiman, Dead Boy Detectives.

The titular characters are a pair of British teenagers who died young and now exist as ghosts who work to solve mysteries for other ghosts. The first case we see them on involves a young psychic medium who has lost her memory -- and their adventures from there take them to a coastal U.S. town inhabited by an evil witch, a walrus-turned-human, nasty taunting sprites, and a powerful supernatural being known as the Cat King. Against a backdrop of continuing story lines, compelling little "mysteries of the week" ensue.

From the writing standpoint, it's that last element that's the great strength of this series. The show has one foot planted in "network procedural," where you quickly learn the formula and enjoy seeing it remixed. It has its other foot firmly in serialized streaming show, where each episode builds upon the last and you quickly come to love the characters as a result. And it seems effortless (though it really isn't) how the show manages to be both these things within every single episode -- this is no X-Files alternately serving up "mythology episodes" in between disconnected one-offs.

Another strength of the writing is its tone. Dead Boy Detectives is not afraid of engaging with some truly dark content; one episode centers effectively on family abuse, while another literally journeys into hell (and presents some truly hellish concepts in the process). Yet despite all this, Dead Boy Detectives is fundamentally a rather light and "fluffy" show. The banter between characters is delightful, many of the creatures we meet are more amusing than dangerous, and it's all just plain fun to watch.

But the greatest strength of the show is its casting. The two lead roles were cast with "unknown" actors, George Rexstrew and Jayden Revri. No, they don't look remotely like teenagers, but it doesn't matter a bit as you watch their "odd couple"-like demeanors play off one another in a truly profound friendship. It's perhaps a small spoiler, but Dead Boy Detectives winds up not being strictly a boys' club, as the show picks up several compelling women in short order, played by Kassius Nelson, Briana Cuoco, and Yuyu Kitamura. What starts off looking like a two-hander is quickly revealed to be an ensemble cast in which there really is no weak link, and every possible combination of two characters that can be written feels like an interesting one. (And if the show is giving you Supernatural vibes already, wait until Ruth Connell -- veteran of that long-running series -- is positioned as a recurring nemesis.)

It's not always easy to tell whether a Netflix show is a "hit" that you can expect to run several seasons. I don't recall ever seeing Dead Boy Detectives highlighted as a Top Ten show (or whatever), and so I worry that it may be destined to be a one-and-done. That only made me savor the eight episodes we have even more, and made me a touch sad when I finally did finish them. But no word of the series' cancellation has come down either, so for now I can hold out hope. And, of course, I can encourage you to go check it out. Halfway through this year, Dead Boy Detectives is my pick for the best series of 2024 so far. I give it an A-.

Prodigy: Into the Breach, Part II

Star Trek: Prodigy's two-part season two opener continues with "Into the Breach, Part II."

Gwyn arrives at Solum to press her case with her people, only to find that Asencia has arrived first and has already poisoned the governing council against her. Gwyn goes on the run, meeting a younger version of her own father. Meanwhile, on Voyager, Admiral Janeway reveals the nature of their mission to the young cadets: they will be rescuing Captain Chakotay from the other side of a wormhole leading to the future.

I found the Gwyn story line of this episode to be the more compelling, and kind of surprisingly so. There's unexpected depth to her mission with the Vau N'Akat, as Asencia works to play up her people's isolationist tendencies. I guess it's not surprising that Star Trek would dramatize real world politics like this in a science fiction wrapper, but it does impress me that the writers of Prodigy have managed to do it here in a kids' show in a subtle but effective way.

I also like the twist of having Gwyn meeting a younger and more loving version of her father. Maybe this just stems from wanting to find a way to include John Noble in the second season after he was such a big part of the first, but I enjoy that this time-hopping conceit gives Noble the chance to play almost a different character. The young Diviner, or Ilthuran (as I'll never remember to call him without looking it up), is a nice shake-up of the classic "there is good in the villain" trope -- as there's essentially no evil in the villain yet at this point in time.

Meanwhile, the Voyager part of the story is fun, though I think it does illustrate something I expect to be a recurring issue of season two. The heroes of this kids' show are a bunch of kids. Season one was able to sidestep a lot of issues with this by essentially "removing all the adults from the room." The kids were supervised only by a hologram, and so you never really had to question why they were involved in plot (they were driving it), and why they got away with making foolish mistakes as kids do (no one was around to stop them).

Now that the former Protostar crew is interacting with adults on a regular basis, these things might become a "problem" for the show. Well, at least... I think we're just going to have to learn to overlook this issue because that's the nature of Star Trek: Prodigy. Once Admiral Janeway finds out that these cadets know about her secret shuttlebay and its contents, she could confine them all to quarters (or something) to keep the secret safe. Instead, she "reads them in"; it makes no sense objectively, but it's necessary to involve the main characters of this series in the story. When they accidentally launch the shuttle at the end of the episode with most of them on board, this is what has to happen for the main characters to be at the center of the plot... and we just have to accept that there's nothing the adults could have done to stop it. (Just as later, we're going to have to accept that they won't really be "punished" for anything bad that comes of it.)

I admit, I'm probably going to stumble on that "looking the other way" for a while here. But at least this is the second season of Prodigy and not the first. I've already had time to grow to like a lot of these characters. The nominal leader Dal is kind of the worst (but that seems to be the formula for a lot of kids' shows), but I really like the earnest enthusiasm of Rok-Tahk, the odd melancholy of Zero, and even at times the cutesy antics of Murf and Jason Mantzoukas-ness of Jankom Pog. (Of course, I like Gwyn quite a lot, though she's siloed in her own separate story for now.) Basically, these characters all have a track record of accomplishment to remember in any future moments when their child-like antics infuse artificial jeopardy into episodes.

Overall, I quite liked this episode and the story it seems to set up for the future. I give "Into the Breach, Part II" a B+.

Voyager Flashback: Natural Law

In my last few reviews of Star Trek: Voyager episodes, I noted that the series seemed to be making moves toward its impending finale. But now comes "Natural Law" -- a decent installment, but one that feels like "just another another episode."

Chakotay and Seven of Nine crash-land on a planet populated by a primitive alien race, and an energy shield prevents their rescue. They must struggle to interact with these aliens without doing irreparable damage to their society. Meanwhile, Tom Paris has received a citation for his piloting, and is forced into remedial classes as Voyager remains in the area to work on the away team's recovery.

You might have supposed that this episode would push us closer to the series finale by forcing Chakotay and Seven of Nine together in a situation that might create romantic sparks. But no reference is made at all to Seven's recent holodeck experimentations, nor does anything hint at where we'll find these two in just a few more episodes: mid-relationship.

Instead, a lot of this episode feels like typical Voyager character regression: ignoring the experiences and growth they've had over the years to instead use them as though they'd only recently been "removed from the package." For Seven, this is yet another episode to learn that people can be worthy and distinct whether they have something technological to offer or not -- an only slightly different take on a lesson she's really learned many times over. For Chakotay.... well, I'm not quite sure what his arc is here. He starts out emphatically against interacting with the aliens in any way, and then seems to take an "in for a penny, in for a pound" position: once the aliens have spotted them, he's all in for living among them and seemingly unconcerned about any cultural contamination.

But even though this story line features a lot of "been there, done that" (and "huh?"), it's still a story line that fundamentally works. If you set aside whether Seven should have already learned this lesson, the lesson she learns here is pretty compelling. The aliens themselves are more interesting too, using sign language instead of spoken word to communicate. Even the trappings of the environment feel more clever than usual; for example, instead of rubbing sticks together to start a fire, one of the natives squeezes some sort of combustible juice from a local plant.

What also works really well is the realization that the energy shield protecting these aliens was actually put in place by other aliens, who basically share Federation ideals that cultures like this should not be interfered with. The episode makes enough time for a colonization parable; when the shield comes down, interlopers are there immediately to harvest resources and threaten the locals. Our heroes must restore the status quo. (And wisely, the episode doesn't do anything crass to call attention to Chakotay specifically being in this story, and any "ancient Earth history" involving his ancestors. He's simply present in the story, working to restore balance.)

Then there's the comedic B-plot of the episode, which is really quite fun. It's great seeing Tom Paris have to swallow his pride and go to "traffic school," with an officious instructor who's having none of it. (The instructor even hurls insults at Paris' beloved Delta Flyer.) Not only are Robert Duncan McNeill and guest star Neil C. Vipond an effective comedic duo, but the subplot pays off in the end with actual relevance in the main story, as Tom Paris must blow off his lessons to hot rod in and save the day.

Other observations:

• When Seven of Nine first materializes on the planet, she suddenly has a sort of pouch/pocket on her trademark catsuit where she can store her tricorder. It's kind of hilarious.

• Given whatever futuristic material a communicator badge must be made out of, these aliens must be really strong to smash one with a rock. (Or maybe it's just one hell of a rock.)

• I know that the fact the aliens can treat Chakotay's wound with local plants is supposed to show us that knowledge and technology aren't the same thing. But it's a hell of a leap that aliens this primitive would have much medical knowledge that transcends superstition, and especially that any knowledge they have would work on an alien.

• Seven loses her tricorder and then becomes lost, wandering in circles. You'd think her Borg implants would help prevent that sort of loss of direction.

If this story were coming earlier in Seven of Nine's time on the show -- if we didn't feel like we were already past this -- I think this would be a much stronger episode. But it's still decent, with a light subplot that really works. I give "Natural Law" a B.

Beyond Infinity

I haven't had a chance yet to make it to the movie theater for Pixar's newest film, Inside Out 2. But I'm actually one or two Pixar movies behind anyway... which I worked on recently when I caught up with Lightyear. This spin-off from Toy Story purports to be the movie that, in 1995, made a young Andy obsessed with the character of Buzz Lightyear. It's a science fiction action adventure featuring the title character, Star Command, Zurg, "to infinity... and beyond," and other elements we've heard snippets of in Toy Story films over the years.

It's also, I'm sorry to say, clearly "lesser" Pixar. There are worse movie out there, for sure -- especially animated films aimed mainly at a younger audience. But Pixar has famously set a high-enough bar that even "really good" can seem like a disappointment... and "kinda ok," like this, can seem almost disastrous.

I think the core issue here is that the movie makers didn't fully embrace their premise. As I said, this is a fiction within a fiction, as explained by the first words you see on screen: "In 1995, a boy named Andy got a Buzz Lightyear toy for his birthday. It was from his favorite movie. This is that movie." That's a conceit that could allow for a number of different ideas that the movie doesn't engage with.

They could have leaned into this being a retro movie, pretending it was actually more than 25 years old. I don't mean in terms of animation quality, but rather in applying all of Pixar's modern technological innovations to make a movie that looks like it was made on a 1990s budget, with 1990s dialogue, characters, and plot. This would have been a bit of a departure for Pixar, which generally makes "timeless" movies -- the quality of Pixar animation will key you into roughly when a given was made, but the story content usually tries to be as universal as possible. (There are a few exceptions like The Incredibles, which really reads as "1960s," but those movies seem rare for the studio.)

They could have leaned into this movie really being something a 10-year-old kid would love. I'm not saying that Pixar should have "sold out" and made something utterly commercial, nor that they should have abandoned their model of making movies both adults and kids can enjoy. But the premise here is really that this is young Andy's "Star Wars," a movie he watched over and over and had to have the toy for. Yet Lightyear is full of weird concepts that don't feel to me like they would capture a child's imagination like that -- time dilation, work-life imbalance, and more. And Buzz Lightyear himself is one of the least cool things about it; he should be something like a Han Solo in terms of cool, but I can't help but feel like the toy that child-me would have wanted from this movie is Sox the robot cat.

But if you accept that the movie isn't quite what it "says on the tin," it's alright. Pixar movies always feature a protagonist on a journey of self-discovery and improvement, and Buzz Lightyear fits that mold here. This is the story of him learning to trust in and care for others, and it's a nice character arc. There are some fun side characters too, particularly that robot cat I just mentioned. And the cast is pretty good, including Chris Evans, Keke Palmer, Taika Waititi, James Brolin, Uzo Aduba, and more.

I'd say Lightyear rates about a B-. Perhaps, if it were just "Pixar's space movie" and not actually saddled with its connection to Toy Story, I might have thought it a B? It's in a weird space where it's both "a good enough watch to be worth your time" and "probably shouldn't be on your list unless it helps you complete your Pixar collection."

Prodigy: Into the Breach, Part I

I've been a Star Trek fan for so long that the last time there was a big pile of new episodes I'd never seen before was pre-Next Generation, when I'd become a fan and had all the episodes of the original series to watch. But now, long after I might have thought it was possible, I find myself in that position again. Because the second season of Star Trek: Prodigy was sent from Paramount+ to Netflix -- and Netflix did what Netflix does -- all 20 episodes of the season were released at once.

I'm not planning to bring you 20 straight posts about Star Trek: Prodigy. For one, I don't think anyone would want to read that much about Star Trek. (I have a feeling that a chunk of my readers think I post too much about it as it is.) Also, I simply won't be bingeing them that quickly. But I am going to get the ball rolling here with the season premiere, "Into the Breach, Part I."

Most of the Protostar crew is plucked from their work at Starfleet Academy to join a mission aboard a new Voyager, led by Admiral Janeway. Dal has been struggling with being away from the action, and hopes this opportunity will provide relief from boring course work. And it seems he may get his wish: some secret is being hidden by the senior officers, and Dal is determined to get to the bottom of it.

At this time a decade ago, Star Trek was completely off television. Yet when Star Trek: Prodigy arrived, it was one of a staggering five Star Trek series in active runs. That, plus the fact that it's always been the explicitly kid-friendly arm of the franchise (you know, not made "for me") and it's kind of been an easy series to overlook. Still, it's quite enjoyable, and this first episode back was a nice reminder of that.

First, the stories do a good job of balancing "kids being kids" with "Star Trek idealism." Sure, I wish that Dal wasn't telling children in the audience that reading is boring and lame... but we've also got Rok-Tahk proudly displaying her genius, Zero working to fit in while staying true to themself, Jankom Pog explicitly working on self-improvement, and Gwyn (though at the margins in this first half hour) off to save an entire planet. (Plus, Murf being Murf.) They're a generally likeable cast of characters; animation allows them to be more diverse than the average Star Trek cast, and Prodigy makes full use of that.

And speaking of animation: second, it's really quite good. The main characters are all very expressive (to match their vocal performances), the "visual effects" are as compelling as any other Star Trek, and everything is vibrant and exciting and colorful. Maybe some of the characters returning from Voyager look a little odd compared to their real-life versions, but at least there's a clear sense of style. (And: we are getting more Voyager characters this season, which is nice. The finale of that series really left things open-ended for so many of them, and I like that Prodigy is able to follow up on that without letting it overwhelm their own storytelling.)

If I'm talking mostly about the series in general and not much about this episode in particular... well, that's because it's hard to get specific on this occasion. The episode is not only setting up a new long story arc, it's explicitly the first half of a two-parter. 30 minutes is just enough time to get reacquainted with the characters and kick things off before we hit the end credits. (Though it's not like we get nothing; we do learn by the end of the episode what Janeway is hiding in the mysterious "Shuttlebay 3.")

For reminding me that new Star Trek: Prodigy is something I can and should look forward to, I give "Into the Breach, Part I" a B.

Voyager Flashback: Friendship One

Near the end of the final season of Star Trek: Voyager, the writers allowed the ship and characters to have daily, limited contact with Starfleet Command back home. This in turn opened up some new story avenues, which they seized upon for "Friendship One."

Starfleet Command assigns Voyager its first mission in seven years. The ship may be near the location of an important early deep space probe, launched just four years after Zefram Cochrane broke the warp barrier... and they'd like Voyager to locate it for posterity. But when Voyager does indeed find the probe, they learn that it was responsible for the decimation of an alien society. They not only must find a way to help the aliens, they must first convince them that humans are not the callous invaders that the destructive probe has made them out to be.

Allowing Voyager daily real-time communication with home is a major development that I really wish the writers had chosen to do sooner than a half-dozen episodes from the end of the series. I just feel there's so much new story potential in it that it's a shame to leave it largely untapped. "Friendship One" does get at one of the more interesting possible angles, though. Many stories could revolve around Voyager characters getting information from home and being powerless to do anything about it; what emotional consequences does that bring? But here's a situation Voyager can do something about, which is an interesting situation of its own.

The episode is pretty standard "first contact on Star Trek" fare, our heroes trying to get skeptical aliens to trust them. But we have a bit more "skin in the game," being somewhat responsible for their skepticism and tragedy. To the extent this is a remix of a familiar formula, it's a remix I'm fine with.

A remix I'm far less interested in is the formulaic trope that sees secondary character Joe Carey returning in this episode... to be killed off. "They killed someone we know; this is serious!" So we're all supposed to think. But it just doesn't work at all. First, it's so trope-tastic that almost everyone in the audience sees the death coming. Secondly, it doesn't matter that much to kill off a character when there's just four more episodes to go after this one -- nothing is really changing in a meaningfully lasting way.

And magnifying both of these issues is the fact that they chose Lieutenant Carey as the character to be killed off. We literally have not seen him since season one; it's a stretch to even call him a "recurring character" anymore (even though he once was). To bring him back now, and have him talk so much about his children? Might as well say he's one week from retirement and show us a picture of his wife while you're at it. Plus, the fact that we have lived now for six seasons without seeing him -- and haven't really missed him at all -- undermines the notion that you're actually killing off "someone we care about." Kill Vorik, maybe. Or perhaps one of the Lower Deckers we met more recently. (Or hell, give the trope a rest.)

Killing a recurring character feels like the reason they made this episode, and that aspect of it really doesn't work. But look past that, and I do think there are quite a few other elements that do work. There's some nice banter between Tom and B'Elanna about whether her pregnancy should exclude her from away missions. Harry gets a moment of triumph when he's the one who figures out how to locate the old probe. Tuvok gets a moment of triumph when his crafty plan to rescue the hostages succeeds. Neelix gets a nice scene when he talks of the holocaust on his own planet, trying to find common cause with the aliens.

The production values are really good here too: space suits and snow storms, gnarly blistered aliens, and a creepy dead alien baby prop that's reasonably effective. Nice effects work show the restoration the alien planet's atmosphere (using more of those "limited" photon torpedoes Voyager has). It all looks pretty good.

Other observations:

• B'Elanna tells Tom that for the next baby, Tom can be the pregnant one while B'Elanna gets to go on the away missions. This is Star Trek, so... they could totally do that.

• Nanoprobes. There's really nothing they can't do.

The "Joe Carey of it all" detracts a lot from the episode. But it's still a reasonably interesting tale. I give "Friendship One" a B.

Duelling Duelling Realities

If you're going to subscribe to just one of the innumerable streaming services out there, I'd say it should be Apple TV+. Episode for episode, their TV series options routinely give far more "bang for your buck" than anywhere else. And there's a nice variety there too.

Most of the time.

In the same calendar year, Apple TV+ launched two different series that are both "present day science fiction tales about parallel realities." There's Constellation, in which an astronaut aboard the ISS has a seemingly impossible encounter that shakes the foundation of her reality; there's also Dark Matter, in which a college professor is abducted by his own doppelganger and forced to swap lives into an alternate reality. Both stories are so similar in their inspiration, so similar in their references to quantum mechanics and Schrödinger's cat, that my husband and I decided to bench one show until we'd finished the other: keeping up with both shows was almost like watching four intersecting realities all at once, and too much to track.

Constellation was the show we finished first. And, it turns out, the show that Apple TV+ was finished with first as well: a few months after the eight-episode season one concluded, the show was cancelled. The Powers That Be at Apple TV+ finally seemed to recognize that they didn't need two such similar shows... and while they haven't yet backed Dark Matter with a renewal, they have decided they're getting out of the Constellation business.

I both get it, and am a bit disappointed. I get it because, quite honestly, Constellation probably was bringing down the "average quality" of shows on the service, overall. But you have to remember, I opened by saying that on Apple TV+, that average is impossibly high.

I'd say that for sure, Constellation grabbed my attention out right out of the gate. Playing on my enthusiasm for space travel, the first ISS-centric episode spins out a web of mystery and oddity that I found instantly compelling. A somewhat ambiguous flashback structure, a horrible tragedy, and a moment of intrepid "astronaut bravery" all swirl together to really set the stage. This is one of those shows you don't have to "give a second chance" to; if you don't like the first episode, it simply isn't for you.

For a few episodes after that, Constellation continues to explore with compelling tendrils, putting multiple story lines into play, building sympathy for several characters even as it implies some may be losing their sanity, and repeatedly making you rethink and recontextualize earlier scenes you've watched.

But then... you wind up getting out way ahead of the show. Part of the problem here is the overall slow pace after that breakneck first episode. Constellation is not a fundamentally an adventure about exploring space, it's a personal story about people questioning their own reality... and it has to slow down to suit the intimacy of that story. Another problem is the season's overall structure: it shows us flash-forward moments that initially serve to deepen the mysteries, but ultimately allow you to sort out those mysteries before the characters do. Basically, my enthusiasm for Constellation diminished at least a little with almost every episode.

I admit, I considered not even bothering to blog about a now-cancelled show that I didn't end up liking in the end as much in the beginning. But there are a couple of other factors in the mix. Well, specifically, actors in the mix. The show stars Swedish actress Noomi Rapace, and she is an excellent lead. She has to walk a line of sanity in this show, and has to carry many scenes without dialogue or interaction with other actors -- she's solid through it all. The major secondary character is played by Jonathan Banks, now famed for Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul; this series makes great use of his established curmudgeonly screen persona, but he gets to let you beneath that exterior in interesting ways too.

One point of encouragement I can offer: though Constellation was cancelled, it does have an ending. More or less. There are absolutely cliffhanger elements to it; there are seeds being planted for future seasons, and the story for one character in particular ends up in an utterly unresolved place. But, the story for the main character does actually reach a plausible resolution. Future seasons could absolutely have shaken the equilibrium established at the end of the final episode... but you can also imagine the reality where she lives on, in something that passes for normality, from this point. And hey, contemplating alternate realities is what the show is all about.

I'm going to give Constellation a B. In the grand sweep of everything on Apple TV+, it probably shouldn't be at the top of anyone's list. But I do think it's the sort of thing some of my readers might enjoy, and I'm just putting that out there.

If/when I finish Dark Matter, I'll be back to talk about that.