Enterprise Flashback: Sleeping Dogs

After a series premiere that heavily featured the Klingons, Enterprise didn't showcase them again until much later in the season, with "Sleeping Dogs."

Enterprise detects a Klingon ship that is sinking into the atmosphere of a gas giant. When a team boards the ship to mount a rescue, they find the Klingons unconscious... save for one who misinterprets their intentions as hostile. The team must find a way to save the ship and themselves.

There are a lot of decent elements to this episode. As always, the production values feel great, from the sets of the Klingon ship to the exterior visuals of it caught in the swirling gasses of the planet. (The CG Klingon targs don't look amazing, though I appreciate the attempt to do something more credible than almost literally putting lipstick on a pig, as The Next Generation did in an early episode.)

The Klingons are interesting here. It still remains to be seen how the series will bridge the gap between the relatively positive interactions we're getting now and the "at war" status Klingons have with the Federation come the time of the original series. But I enjoy how the one conscious Klingon officer is basically a conspiracy nut, spouting nonsense to her perceived captors. And I like the moment in the end where the Klingon captain (played by the ever-present Vaughn Armstrong) tries to save face by blustering at Archer.

I also appreciate that the writers are making an effort to course correct. I think perhaps they realized that they'd crafted Hoshi Sato to be so green, so loaded with anxiety about space travel, that it was going to be hard to put her in the sorts of situations that Star Trek requires. This episode seems to be an effort to sand off the corners, show that she is picking up some experience, and is finding her "sea legs." Still, a lot of this episode feels a bit familiar after the earlier episode that centered on Hoshi. And it's strange how the climax of the story sees her become an expert in weapons detonation, coming up with better ideas than Malcolm Reed on how to save them.

I don't love the bad tropes that Enterprise is already falling into. People ignore T'Pol's advice more often than Worf was ignored on The Next Generation -- and she's right more often. (Here, she points out that Klingons would rather die in the line of duty, and should be left alone.) Yes, I understand that listening to T'Pol would mean you don't have an episode, but I feel like they should stop making her the voice of reason if no one on the show -- Archer most of all -- is going to listen to reason.

Similarly, I question Archer actually saying to Trip: remind me to stop helping people. This is only highlighting another already-developed trope of Enterprise, that Archer's actions are never the right ones to carry out his intentions. (He's "new at this.") Clearly, the show isn't actually going to have him stop putting the ship in jeopardy, or again... we wouldn't have a show. So why call attention to it?

Instead, why not have Archer change something about himself that the show could actually change? Here's another episode where he punks his junior officers for his own twisted amusement, making Hoshi grovel to get on an away mission before revealing that T'Pol has already requested her presence. To me, Archer's humor feels laced with weird cruelty an uncomfortable portion of the time. At least in this episode, he finally decides to consult an expert and read up on what Vulcans know about Klingons.

Other observations:

• Enterprise really seems to like its pre-credits scene to be just "slice of life" stuff that doesn't actually tee up the story to come. This episode has Hoshi in target practice with Malcolm, and while this does touch on the themes of her greenness (and establishes Reed's cold, which... kind of isn't a thing in the episode), it doesn't get us to the "ship is sinking into a gas giant" meat of the story.

• I had a note that the three members of the away team ultimately take off their spacesuits and spend the rest of the episode in something close to underwear. But then they're actually in underwear for the final scene, in Enterprise's notorious decontamination chamber. It is a bit less salacious this time; they aren't rubbing gel all over each other.

• It doesn't seem great to put Reed -- who has a cold -- into the same decon chamber as Hoshi and T'Pol. Perhaps there's a gel for that?

• Archer was aboard the Klingon ship too, with the helmet of his spacesuit off. Why isn't he in decon?

I give "Sleeping Dogs" a B-. It's an interesting story, but the way that it's told highlights many of the elements of the series that aren't working for me.

Lower Decks: Starbase 80?!

Another week of Star Trek: Lower Decks, another great episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks. This time, we're off to "Starbase 80?!"

When the Cerritos needs urgent repair, the only option within range is the infamous Starbase 80. There they find a crew of people Starfleet has seemingly forgot, shunted to the edge of the galaxy... and also, a zombie-like "curse" that spreads rapidly to the visiting Cerritos personnel. As Mariner tries to get to the bottom of it, Freeman and Ransom are working elsewhere on the station to repair damaged systems.

Lower Decks always has great voice acting, but they really scored big with the guest stars this episode. First, the station commander, Kassia Nox, is played by Nicole Byer. Her unique comedy ability to deliver the darkest news with the brightest tone is perfect for the head of the dreaded Starbase 80. Second, the crafty-but-goofy engineer Gene Jakobowski is played by Stephen Root, who always squeezes every bit of juice out of every one of the countless small roles he's played in a decades-long career. These two would elevate any episode they were a part of.

But then, they get great material to work with too. The many quirks of Starbase 80 create a carnival-like atmosphere (of funhouse rooms and corn dogs, no less) against which the high-speed jokes typical of Lower Decks play hilariously. The nods to past Trek series were piled on thick this week too, from "the disease Geordi got in that one episode" to original series technology in every room to a lengthy callback to Enterprise's infamous decon gel.

Besides making me laugh a bunch (and smile even more), there were those Star Trek ideals buried in the heart of the episode. Commander Nox delivers the message to us with trademark Nicole-Byer-on-Nailed-It candor, giving love that doesn't feel "tough" or mean: Starfleet believes in second chances, and Starbase 80 is a place for second chances. It truly does explain how a place like Starbase 80 (or even the Cerritos itself, to some extent) can exist in the same Star Trek universe with the Enterprises. Everyone has a place.

I give "Starbase 80?!" an A-. It continues this great (sniff) final run for Star Trek: Lower Decks.

A Force to Be Reckoned With

I've now completed two of author Brandon Sanderson's many book series. After quite enjoying Skyward and, uh, rather not enjoying Mistborn, it felt like if I was going to try another Sanderson series, the best way to go might be away from high fantasy. So I came to Steelheart, book one of a series called The Reckoners.

This series is set in a dystopian version of our own world, where a handful of "Epic" people with superhero powers have somehow emerged. But they're anything but heroic. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the Epics have carved up the world into fiefdoms where they rule tyrannically over the ashes of what remains of society. A resistance group called the Reckoners has devoted themselves to learning the weaknesses of Epics in order to assassinate them. A young man named David wants to join their ranks -- if he can find them. He wants their help, as he's set upon killing one of the most powerful Epics of all, Steelheart -- the one who killed his father.

Brandon Sanderson wrote this book five years before Skyward, and I wonder how much me coming to it in the opposite order colored my perception of it. They do have a lot of surface similarities. Our protagonist is a teenager on the cusp of adulthood, with an inflated sense of their own skills and a lot to learn about just how much they don't know. Both live in dystopian societies under the oppression of a seemingly indomitable force. Both develop romantic feelings with a person they initially butt heads with.

Mind you, these are all tropes of the genre at large, more than a matter of Sanderson repeating himself. And it's because this is probably the twentieth time I've encountered them in books, television, and movies -- not merely the second -- that I'm inclined to say that five years more experience writing helped Sanderson make Skyward a better book. I found the characterizations there to be more well-rounded, and the world-building more multi-layered, than what's here in Steelheart.

But Steelheart was by no means bad. Indeed, there are a number of welcome, even clever, subversions of the genre tropes within its pages. The obligatory Young Adult Fiction romantic subplot does not stay on the prescribed course. The eventual "humanization" of the implacable foe is indirect; the book exposes nuances about Epics in general without ever undermining the fundamental evilness of its titular villain. And the central hero, David -- in this first book of the trilogy, at least -- never really becomes the only person who can save the world; he isn't ever made "unique" or "special," remaining part of an effective team instead.

Also, this book about toppling a dystopia frequently emphasizes that you don't save the world simply by toppling one despot. Surely part of that is self-serving; this is book one of a trilogy, and Sanderson obviously needs to tee up the next books so they don't feel tacked on to an otherwise complete narrative. Still, there's some nuance here in the underlying message that many dystopian series don't get to until later books (if at all).

I'd give Steelheart a B+. I expect to rotate around to a few other things before circling back and trying Reckoners book two. But I do think I'll eventually be circling back.

Enterprise Flashback: Dear Doctor

In the first season of Enterprise, John Billingsley's portrayal as Phlox quickly emerged as one of the stronger elements of the show. But it was used in relative moderation until the mid-season episode "Dear Doctor."

In a series of letters, Doctor Phlox relates life on the Enterprise back to a former colleague on Earth. What begins as a somewhat mundane account of the day-to-day turns more dire when Enterprise arrives at a planet with two sentient species. The more dominant species is in decline due to a global pandemic, and the question of whether to help -- at the expense of the more oppressed species -- weighs heavily on Archer and his crew.

The classic "epistolary novel" -- a story told through written letters -- is such an enduring narrative convention that it persisted even into television. Many series have done their version. Star Trek: The Next Generation did a particularly memorable one in "Data's Day," and while that wasn't among the very best episodes of that series, I feel it does cast something of a shadow that any subsequent Star Trek needs to work to get clear of. Like "Data's Day," "Dear Doctor" benefits from focusing on the fan favorite "outsider" character of its series. And as I said in my intro, John Billingsley is a strong performer, who here rises to the occasion when put at the center of the episode.

The story features a strong moral dilemma, that's ultimately all about the Prime Directive even if the actual tenet of "non-interference" doesn't yet have a name in this prequel series. Is it right to allow nature to take its course when you have the power to intervene? Is it one thing to "intervene" for yourself and another to intervene for somebody else? When you begin to examine the entire realm of information that might inform your decision, how far do you take that inquiry? This episode does a good job of putting all that into question, while still making the fact that lives are at stake feel more centered in the drama.

If anything, it's possible that these elements of the episode play more strongly today than they did when this episode was brand new. Over 20+ years, people have grown more cognizant about oppression, and can sympathize more with the plight of the second alien species in this episode. But also, we've gone through a global pandemic of our own, making the situation that the first alien species faces feel more immediate and personal. (Indeed, it seems wild that none of the doctors on this planet are taking any kind of PPE precautions as they work with patients.)

And yet, this foundational Star Trek ethical construction has to share space in this episode with Phlox's letter-writing framing device. And for me, that simply does not work at all. Phlox makes his position abundantly clear to Archer in dialogue; we really don't gain much by having him pre-state it in a letter to a character we've never met. (Data, in his episode, at least wrote to someone we had.)

Moreover, there's simply too much "cutesy" information about Phlox in this episode. He eats bugs -- the same ones he feeds his menagerie of Sickbay critters. Like all dentists, he's determined to engage you in conversation while stuffing tools into your mouth so you can't talk. His culture is polyamorous, and he specifically is married. His species also hibernates. It's all fun stuff to put in a "learn more about Phlox" episode -- yet the breezy tone clashes with the serious A plot. Each half of this episode really strains against the fact that the other half has a different narrative agenda.

But Billingsley is good (as ever) as Phlox, and there are some fun moments for other characters too. The movie For Whom the Bell Tolls makes Trip cry. T'Pol hates getting dental work as much as anyone. That's if you like the lighter part of the episode. If you're here more for the heavier part, then you see Archer having to experience the "shoe on the other foot," as he comes to appreciate the position of the Vulcans, judging whether a species is ready to handle warp travel. But again -- these two aspects of the episode really aren't playing well off each other.

Other observations:

• Phlox actually has to hit a switch to turn on the lights in Sickbay; no voice commands. Technology is always outstripping writers' ability to conceive of what's possible, of course. And yet, I'm pretty sure motion-activated lights were a thing even when this episode was created.

• The aliens in this episode have met the Ferengi. Put a pin in that for later in the season.
  

• Hoshi talks to Phlox in his own language... and makes quite a few mistakes. Now sure, credit for this being like her 30th language when I'm not even fluent in a second. Still, I have to ask: is Denobulan an especially complicated language, or does Hoshi make this many mistakes in all the languages she speaks? 

I think there are two very good episodes here: an examination of the best character on the show, and a great moral parable. But stuffing them in one episode is not a peanut-butter-and-chocolate situation; the two things do not go well together. I think the two halves of "Dear Doctor" drag each other down a bit, rendering the whole a B.

Oh Boy

Boy Kills World is a wild action comedy released earlier this year, and now available on streaming. Set in a dystopian society, the story centers on "Boy," a deaf and mute man who is seeking revenge on the authoritarian family in charge, for the death of his own family when he was a child. He's been rigorously trained by a powerful Shaman, turning him into the sort of one-man wrecking crew that might just be able to get that revenge.

I knew going in that Boy Kills World was going to be a light-in-tone, but violent, action movie. I was perhaps surprised at how hard it leaned into both of those elements. The action is incredibly violent, and weirdly inspired in that regard. A memorable sequence features the use of a truly unusual weapon (you've never seen the like before), and it's a fight that will make you squirm. But that's only one dish in the buffet of gory deaths and brutal injuries this movie serves up.

As violent as it is, it's equally funny. This is an action-comedy, and it doesn't neglect that second part of the equation. Most of the humor comes from Boy's inner monologue, delivered to us in hilarious voice-over by H. Jon Benjamin, who animation fans will know from Archer, Bob's Burgers, and countless other places. Benjamin is the person you call when you want a voice that sounds badass, but who can undermine every bit of seriousness with winking comedy. I have to imagine they wrote this script with him in mind, and there was no "plan B" if they hadn't gotten him.

The movie blends these two disparate elements surprisingly well. In part, it's because that balancing act isn't overly drawn out. Video games are the in-story explanation for much of what we see, and so the movie is structured almost as a level by level fight through a cast of villains including Michelle Dockery, Famke Janssen, and Sharlto Copley. And it gets the job done in under two hours.

That said, they still manage to inject a little too much story in there. There's an "end of act two" twist that I'm not sure about. I can understand the instinct to make the move more than just a trifle, and the seeds are planted to justify what happens. All the same, I feel like everything that follows the twist simply isn't as entertaining as what came before. The comedy isn't as funny, the action isn't as clever, and the movie is starting to wear out its welcome before the credits roll.

Still, star Bill Skarsgård makes for an unexpectedly effective action hero (even more unexpectedly when paired with the voice of H. Jon Benjamin). I'd ultimately say that if you're in for a literally bloody good time, you'll probably enjoy Boy Kills World. I give it a B.

Prodigy: Brink

The sprint to the finish line of Star Trek: Prodigy season two continues with "Brink."

Voyager has been ordered back to headquarters, but the crew is reluctant to leave Asencia alone to continue building up her forces unchallenged. Gwyn suggests that the cadets be sent on a covert mission, off the Starfleet books. On that mission, they learn that two people are in need of rescue: Ilthuran and Wesley Crusher... and make the fateful decision to split up to try to save both.

I'd been waiting for multiple episodes to the get the context that this episode finally provides: the revelation that Wesley Crusher allowed himself to get captured on purpose as part of an elaborate plan to ultimately send the Protostar back in time. I think we needed this detail a lot sooner than this, as not only does it answer the question of how a Traveler could be imprisoned against his will, it helps explain the sudden elevation of Asencia as a galaxy-threatening villain.

Not that this episode had me thinking, "oh, this all makes complete sense now." Indeed, this was sort of the episode where I kind of gave up on trying to track the ongoing story. This episode introduces us to a second, non-evil version of Asencia, which I decidedly did not understand. Is she from the past? The future? An alternate reality? It probably doesn't matter; we've just reached the part of the story where Big Bad Villain with a Big Bad Plan must be stopped.

To that end, Wesley Crusher has offered the minimally helpful advice that the Protostar crew (and Ma'jel) have "got to stick together." The guy can see the future (or... I guess we're meant to assume from all the math scribbles that he's just really good at predicting it?), but he can't predict that a bunch of children might not take that advice in the literal way he'd intended it without more explicit directions. And so, his grand plan goes the way of most "let yourself get captured on purpose" plans in TV and movies go: not well.

However, I liked that this episode returned the kids to the center of the action. And I really like that their actions were quite smart for the entire episode. This was not a case of kids being kids, leading to jeopardy; I felt that they pretty much made all the right decisions all the way through the episode. (I don't hold their ignoring of Wesley's super-vague warning against them.) It was a good showing for Gwyn as leader, for Dal in following another leader, and for all the other characters in little moments where they got to use their best skills.

So, taken altogether, I'll give "Brink" a B-. We've definitely reached the customary "all is lost" moment of the story. Three more episodes left to put everything right.

Lower Decks: A Farewell to Farms

The latest episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks was the Klingon-centric "A Farewell to Farms."

Mariner tries to help her Klingon friend Ma'ah regain the captaincy he lost, using Boimler's extensive knowledge of obscure Klingon traditions. Meanwhile, the Cerritos hosts two esteemed scholar/food critics from the planet Klowahka, who focus their ire on Doctor Migleemo.

This has been a great season of Lower Decks already -- but this episode was my favorite of them so far. I have always tolerated Klingon episodes of Star Trek, finding them inherently a bit silly... and often bad when that silliness overwhelms the story. Lower Decks is a completely different context for a Klingon story, a place where being silly is the point. And so the show dives headfirst into Klingon tropes and invents a barrel load (of bloodwine, of course) of new ones.

Making sweet, soft Boimler the most enthusiastic fan of Klingon tradition was an inspired comedic choice. And having him team up with Mariner to game a system is a pairing that has worked time and again for the series. I could go on and on (tediously) about the moments that made me laugh out loud, but I have to give a few limited shout-outs: to the hilarious animation of our heroes getting painsticked, to the deep cut VCR game reference to "experience bIj," and to actually calling the most prominent feature of female Klingon armor a "boob window." This storyline of the episode went all out with the jokes.

But honestly, even if all that didn't have me laughing regularly, I'd have found the Migleemo "B plot" hilariously funny too. Just as Klingon society has for decades been built out in borderline cartoonish ways, so this episode built out Klowahkan society in... well, literally cartoonish ways. From viewing everything through the lens of food, to the amusing physical displays that accompany emotion, everything about these aliens was built for laughs. And all the details were perfect, from the idea of an amuse bouche as a last meal before prison, to the beak-like silverware a Klowahkan uses to eat.

No, there wasn't much of a story here. We got another tease about this season's "rift" Macguffin, and some sort of tacked-on morality about hiding your struggles when you could ask for help. (Lessons never go down as effectively when it's a guest character learning them.) I suppose an absolutely "best of the best" Lower Decks episode would have nailed those elements too.

And yet, I laughed a lot. That's not all Lower Decks can do, but I really couldn't ask for anything more from this episode. I give "A Farewell to Farms" an A.