Life in a Nutshell

Of all the television shows due for a nostalgic reboot, I would not have expected Malcolm in the Middle to get tapped. Don't get me wrong: I did watch the original show about this quirky family with no last name and lots of unruly kids... and there's plenty I liked about it. It often had the zaniness of a live-action cartoon. It rather smoothly navigated the aging of its mostly child cast over a seven-year run. It's now a fun artifact of a time when Bryan Cranston was known only for comedy. But did I want, as the reboot itself says as it kicks off, "more of this?"

It turns out -- yeah, I kind of did want more of this. And I found it weird just how little we got.

The new reboot on Hulu, Malcolm in the Middle: Life's Still Unfair, runs just four episodes. Each is barely longer than the classic network length that would have allowed for commercials, clocking in under half an hour. If you're a binge-watcher, you could easily finish it in one sitting, as though it were a movie. (Not a particularly long one, by today's standards.) And it feels like it's barely gotten going by the time it's all over.

It's been 20 years since the original series went off the air. Some of the cast has hardly worked in acting in that time. As I noted, Bryan Cranston's career has turned upside-down, and now he'll forever be known foremost as a dramatic actor. The writers haven't thought about these characters in decades. There is, quite simply, a warming up period here. The first episode of the re-boot isn't bad, and does have moments that reminded me of what was good about the original series in its prime... but at the same time, it didn't really seem laugh-out-loud funny to me. But hey... there's only three more, so why not keep going?

What unfolds is a tight story about parents Hal and Lois planning a big event for a milestone wedding anniversary, struggling to get all their kids there amid grand romantic gestures. And with each episode, the footing seems to grow more assured. A weird diversion for Hal in episode 3 absolutely captures the wild swings that the original series would sometimes take. (And is also a showcase for Bryan Cranston. Did he need to be coaxed into this reboot, and was this the bait?)

Episode 4 is a satisfying culmination of the new storyline. It's stuffed with cameos of characters you may remember from the original series -- or perhaps had forgotten until the moment they reappear. It has just the right touch of sweetness to remind you that Malcolm in the Middle wasn't just about being wild and occasionally crass. And with several new characters, introduced in this reboot, now settling into their apparent new roles in the "No Last Name" family, it feels that the stage is set for more.

But there isn't any. That's it. Life is unfair.

I can imagine the sort of behind-the-scenes discussion that led to it being this way. Does anybody remember Malcolm in the Middle? If we spend money to make, say, 10 more episodes, will enough people watch it? I get it. But four episodes feels right at the line of "why bother at all?"

Should you bother at all? Well, if you never watched the original Malcolm in the Middle -- or only caught a few episodes -- I'd say no. This reboot is not going to make the case to you that you should go back and find out what you missed. On the other hand, the reboot feels to me like a warm reminder: this was fun once, and it's still fun. And if it left me wanting more, isn't that better than overstaying its welcome?

I'd give Malcolm in the Middle: Life's Still Unfair a B. Maybe a B+, if I'm judging mostly by the point it reaches in the final episode than the less-solid start of the first. If you feel any nostalgia for the original series, you pretty much have nothing to lose.

Star Trek Flashback: Court Martial

When the original Star Trek went back to "save" its original pilot episode by turning it into a two-part episode, a courtroom drama plot was added. Though the trial against Spock barely resembled any authentic legal procedure, it was an effective device to splice in footage from that first episode. But it also stole the claim to being Star Trek's first "courtroom episode," a distinction that otherwise should have (more rightfully) gone to "Court Martial."

When a crewmember dies aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kirk's account of what happened is contradicted by the ship's recordings. A trial ensues, where Kirk is prosecuted by an old flame, defended by an brilliant eccentric, and unaware of the surprising truth of what happened.

The legal drama is one of the most enduring narratives of film and television -- and so its only natural for other TV shows, looking for a break from formula, to turn to it for an episode. The tradition has run for decades, and as such has changed along with the storytelling techniques of the time. What I'm getting at is: today, most legal shows try to be quite realistic in their depiction of courtroom procedure. Once upon a time, shows like Perry Mason ruled the day, staging a gestalt of a trial that didn't care as much for accuracy.

"Court Martial" falls between those moments in time, and expectedly falls somewhere in the middle on the spectrum of realism. In many ways, the episode holds up after 60 years as a compelling bit of drama. It makes a meal out of evidence, fierce cross-examination, and objections. The conceit of Kirk's legal opposition being an old romantic interest was a compelling enough idea for The Next Generation to borrow it for one of its own foundational legal episodes. And some story elements resonate even more now than they did when the episode was new: the "man against machine" nature of Kirk's defense, along with the "deep faked" video used against him, evokes thoughts of one of modern day's hottest topics, AI.

At other times, you have to remind yourself that you should not look to a 1960s TV show, set in an imagined future, for any sort of realistic legal procedure. When the prosecuting attorney gets to testify directly to the court? The defense decides to skip half the prosecution's case? The trial is re-opened after both sides have rested? The defense attorney just starts monologuing about historical documents? We're in Perry Mason territory now. But is it entertaining? You bet!

The idea that Cogley rejects digitized books seems wild, but perfectly highlights the thematic spine of the story. When the daughter of Kirk's alleged victim rants hysterically at him, it's melodramatic, yet it kind of works. When a commodore tries to coerce Kirk into accepting a desk job to avoid a trial, it feels all too realistic. It's great to see Kirk fiercely defended by the characters we've come to know, and hear (some of) his many accolades. Spock using chess to figure out the computer has been manipulated is fun. The dramatic way in which the dead crewman Finney is revealed to be alive is a hoot.

And sure, there are some elements that don't work as well. The wild array of ages in Kirk's supposed graduating class is a stain on the casting department's figurative shirt. The slinky version of the Star Trek theme that plays when Kirk's old flame Shaw walks in is cringe. Everyone's incredulous reaction to the video is wild when we've been told all along what it would show. The whiplash turnaround of Finney's daughter, from enraged at Kirk to supporting him, is presented without justification. Kirk being allowed to go alone to confront the man people thought he murdered is just wild.

There are also hints throughout that maybe this script was written by someone who's heard of Star Trek but maybe hasn't actually seen an episode before. Spock is a "Vulcanian." A microphone is presented as though it's some unrecognizable futuristic prop. Kirk narrates like a private detective, without making an actual log entry.

Other observations:

• The remastered version of this episode might be the first to show us multiple Constitution-class ships, and also shows us the hole in the Enterprise hull undergoing repairs. 

• Shaw's big stained-glass earrings cast crazy light patterns on her face under the bright studio lights of the time. 

• The big showdown between Kirk and Finney features classic Star Trek fight choreography -- complete with obvious stunt doubles, a ripped uniform, and a comically large wrench.

I give "Court Martial" a B. It may quietly be one of the stronger episodes of Star Trek's first season. It's certainly one of the more fun ones, without trying to be comedic.

Enterprise Flashback: Daedalus

Not every episode in the final season of Star Trek: Enterprise was part of some multi-part story arc. Still, the season was nearly half over when it did finally reach its first stand-alone episode, "Daedalus."

Emory Erickson, inventor of the transporter and family friend of the Archers, comes aboard Enterprise to conduct an experiment with his daughter Danica. But as Trip slowly gets over his hero worship of the man, he begins to suspect that Erickson is hiding something. Is it something that threatens the ship?

I've already noted that the push toward multi-episode "mini arcs" in season four was fertile ground for the series. It let the writers really explore being a prequel to Star Trek, and gave space to balance character with story more effectively. This stand-alone episode highlights that growth by being far less effective.

Like many early episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, this episode has the problem of being too much about its guest star. This story is driven entirely by Erickson's secret mission (which I'm spoiling here): to rescue his son from a fate worse than death. It's a rather similar premise to the early Star Trek: Voyager episode "Jetrel," though that episode had an important role in the story for regular character Neelix.

What do the regular characters do here? Not much, really. Archer is said to be a family friend of the Ericksons, which gives Scott Bakula more scenes without actually making him very important to the story. Trip is around a lot, but he really is written in the story as an antagonist, an obstacle to keep the central character, Erickson, from getting what he wants. All the emotions are Emory and Danica's, as they grieve for a family member who isn't truly dead. And none of the other series regulars interact with them much at all. The guest stars are at least solid, particularly Bill Cobbs as Emory, a real "that guy" actor you've probably seen on other shows. I do feel for the Ericksons; I just wish any of the regular characters seemed to. 

There are some interesting elements at the margins. There's fun talk about transporters that mimics actual fan discussions. ("Is the person who transports the same, or a copy of the original who has been destroyed?") It's not central to the plot that Emory uses a wheelchair, but it's a nice bit of inclusion that he does. There's fun production work, including interesting original series-style camera angles, and a power outage sequence with great haunted house vibes. And there are nods to continuity, as when T'Pol reveals she is reading the recently discovered Kir'Shara.

Other observations:

• But one bit of continuity that isn't acknowledged: at one point, Emory says that Trip should reserve judgement until he has lost a son. In a weird sci-fi way, he has.

• Emory is so sure that Starfleet wouldn't have authorized this mission if Emory had revealed his real intentions. Would they not? There's a person out there suffering a horrific living death, and the inventor of the transporter would like to borrow a ship for a week to attempt a rescue. Why not?

• The fact that the original transporter took a minute-and-a-half to work is an effectively macabre detail.

• T'Pol's spiritual journey is such a side note in this episode, but it does give us another moment of John Billingsley crushing one of his maybe five lines in an episode -- when Phlox notes that most people never re-examine their core beliefs.

It must have been appealing to the writers to tell a story about the inventor of the transporter, a rare corner of Star Trek lore that had essentially no details fleshed out. But the story doesn't really come together. I give "Daedalus" a C+.

Star Trek Flashback: Tomorrow Is Yesterday

In a weird coda at the end of the episode "The Naked Time," Star Trek established that the Enterprise could travel through time (whether the the story warranted it or not). The show delivered on that promise in the episode "Tomorrow Is Yesterday."

The Enterprise is accidentally thrown back in time to Earth in the late 1960s. In short order, they're taken to be a UFO, and unintentionally destroy an Air Force plane and abduct its pilot. Now the crew must repair their ship, erase the evidence of their presence, find a way to return the pilot and restore the course of history, and return to their own time.

There are quite a few episodes of the original Star Trek that make you think: "oh, they totally ripped this one off later for The Next Generation." This episode is one such touchstone for later Star Trek. But not for the early seasons of a still-finding its way Next Gen; rather, for Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. That movie isn't without its own new elements: a threatened Earth, an environmentalist message, and of course, the whales. But consider everything else.

In both Star Trek IV and "Tomorrow Is Yesterday," our heroes find them transported back in time to the real-world present. They soon encounter a contemporary human who takes quite well to interactions with people from the future. They have to sneak around a military installation. And all of it is done with a decidedly comedic tone. (20th century pilot John Christopher: "I never have believed in little green men." Spock: "Neither have I.")

Star Trek IV has a lot more polish. And "Tomorrow Is Yesterday" has working against it the fact it was made for 1960s television, a time and place where the humor is intentionally crafted with "dopey slide whistle" sensibilities. Is it funny when an Air Force security guard just freezes when he materializes on the transporter pad? When a freshly upgraded Enterprise computer flirts with Captain Kirk? Well, no, not really. But then, this style of comedy has aged more poorly than even the 60-year-old sets have. (Notice all the wrinkles on the screens on the Enterprise bridge.)

But still, there's plenty here that does work well. It's an entertainingly breathless episode, where one problem keeps piling on after another. Most of the characters get good moments: Scotty points out that even once he's repaired the ship, they have nowhere to go; McCoy has a great reaction when Kirk compares him to Spock (that's comedy that does work); Sulu beams down to the Air Force base with Kirk (not sure why it's those two, but whatever). And with the character of John Christopher, the episode handles well that not all people from the past are stupid... but that our heroes will always, eventually, get the upper hand. Plus, I love that in this episode, made in 1967, the writers took their shot, declared that humans would land on the moon by the end of the 1960s, and were proven right.

How the episode gets out of these stacked-up problems feels like nonsense. After conveniently inching back in time again before shooting forward again, the transporter serves as a hand-waving solution to it all (not for the first time; certainly not for the last). It's not clear what's happening when someone is "beamed into themselves." (Is this like overwriting a computer file? Is one person being destroyed and swapped for another?) And I don't understand how that causes time to reset itself midstream. But I guess the sillier tone of the episode allows for sillier solutions.

Other observations:

• The footage of scrambling Air Force jets didn't match the rest of the episode even in 1967. But when they came along and updated all the Enterprise effects shots in the 2000s re-master, it made the grainy stock footage stick out even more.  

• Gotta get that slinky trombone music in when John Christopher spots a female crewmember on the Enterprise.

• On the Air Force base, the photo lab has a silent alarm on the door, but the computer records office doesn't. I'm sure it's just for writing convenience, but it's fun to pretend this is a sign of the times (and a reflection on the value of computers).

• Are the clocks on the Enterprise tied to some outside, observable force in the universe? Or did Spock program them to count backwards when the ship is moving backwards in time?

In a world where Star Trek IV didn't exist, "Tomorrow Is Yesterday" might hit a bit better for me. Then again, I imagine that 1980s humor misses with a younger audience in much the same way this 1960s humor misses for me here. But it's still a fun enough episode. I give it a B-.

Enterprise Flashback: Kir'Shara

Another epic three-part Enterprise story arc comes to a close with "Kir'Shara."

Possessed by the spirit of Surak, Archer leads the Vulcan resistance in search of an ancient artifact that could change all Vulcan society. But the planet's leader V'Las is determined to stop them at any cost. Meanwhile, Trip and Soval seek help from the Andorians, and a particularly skeptical Shran.

At a high level, I have similar criticisms about this concluding part three that I had with part two of the trilogy. V'Las grows ever more villainous, to a degree that seems increasingly hard to believe. (You have to wonder if there's any Vulcan version of the 25th amendment, and what the political landscape is like that people as logical as the Vulcans wouldn't use it.) It's never made clear why Archer was chosen by Surak, and things only get more MacGuffiny in the hunt for an artifact whose revelation will magically resolve everything... somehow.

But you either went along with this stuff back in part two or not. And once again, the more personal aspects of the story elevate the storytelling. You can always count on Jeffrey Combs to bring his A game, and it's great to see two long-running guest stars get big scenes together, as he does with with Gary Graham when Shran tortures Soval. It's not the only noble moment for Soval either; he also demonstrates respect for Archer when he tells Trip that he's doing just what the "cap'n" would do, and that it's the right thing.

Archer is experiencing growth too, as he confesses that his experience with Surak has led him to understand why Vulcans suppress their emotions. He's able to walk T'Pol through a minefield of emotions about her mother in a way that she's able to hear. For her part, T'Pol comes to embrace the cause of the Vulcan rebels, and risks her life to aid them.

One element I don't love is how the episode picks up on the story line of the Vulcan stigma about mindmelds. That began as a Star Trek allegory for HIV, and while the storytellers mishandled some of the details, it felt like their hearts were in the right place. But here, we learn that skilled mindmelders can actually cure "Pa'nar syndrome" -- HIV and AIDS. It's quite the rapid wave of quite the magic wand, a simplistic way of backing away from the story line.

It's almost as quick as the dissolution of T'Pol's marriage. I suppose we were told quite directly that she only agreed to marry because of her mother's situation. Still, it seems surprising when a plot complication introduced only a few episodes ago is so unceremoniously resolved. I guess this is the easy Vulcan conflict resolution that I've been feeling the absence of in this trilogy's A story.

Other observations:

• Two decades before a memorable turn on Star Trek: Picard, Todd Stashwick appears here as Vulcan security stooge.

• ...who is revealed in the final scene of the episode to be a Romulan operative! This plays well for longtime Star Trek fans who have watched other series in the franchise, but it doesn't amount to much in the context of Enterprise alone. It makes V'Las, who already seemed irrational, appear weak as well for being so thoroughly manipulated.

Despite a few missteps, "Kir'Shara" is a fun ride. We get fist fights, neck pinches, and lirpas. We get epic space battles. And many of the characters get a chance to do some truly heroic things. So overall, I'll give this episode a B. 

Throw Yourself Into the Pitt

Back in early 2025, there seemed to be no corner of the internet where I wasn't hearing about this amazing new medical drama, The Pitt. Several of my friends joined the steady drumbeat: you have to watch The Pitt! But I had enough of a TV backlog then that I never got around to it. When the season finale ran that April? By May or so, everyone had moved on to something else.

But then 2026 arrived, and The Pitt turned out not to be one of those modern shows that needs like two or three years to produce a season of television. The Pitt was back, and with it that choir loudly singing the praises of the show. This time around, I couldn't resist.

And now? Pass me the hymnal, because I'm joining that choir.

Set in a Pittsburgh hospital that trains new doctors, each season of The Pitt follows one shift on one day at the emergency room. It's not quite operating by the rules of the show 24, with events occurring in real time... but each hour of television is one hour of show time, and story elements continue from episode to episode.

That one hour of television is somehow the shortest one hour on television. Each episode of The Pitt unfurls at breakneck pace, juggling multiple medical crises and mysteries with apparent ease. And the real triumph of the writing is that it also finds time to honor the human element: you very quickly come to care about the hospital workers in the main and supporting cast, and each new case that comes their way features patients and their families who are memorable, often sympathetic, real people in an extraordinary situation.

It's challenging to praise the cast, because it's so large and there really isn't a weak link in the bunch. I'll focus on a few to avoid droning on. Noah Wyle anchors the gang as Dr. "Robby," a wonderful blend of competency and humanity. Absolutely everyone who watches the show is going to instantly fall in love with Katherine LaNasa as charge nurse Dana Evans, conductor of this triage symphony. I quickly gravitated toward poor, put-upon Dr. Whitaker, played through all manner of tough situations by Gerran Howell. I appreciated the work of Isa Briones as the prickly Dr. Santos, who I think ably serves up a character with many unlikable traits without actually making the character wholly unlikable. And sling the "nepo baby" accusations all you want at Fiona Dourif (daughter of Brad Dourif) and Taylor Dearden (daughter of Bryan Cranston) -- it doesn't change the fact that they're both excellent in their respective roles of Drs, McKay and King.

Season 1 of The Pitt was a whirlwind ride that built to a frenetic crescendo in its final few episodes. Season 2 wisely took a different path, using its final episodes to dig into the humanity in the main characters. Both approaches worked, and I found both seasons to be top-notch, grade A material. (If I must pick, I'll give the nod to season 1.)

Yes, The Pitt is as good as I'm sure you've heard. It has created a TV backlog of its own for me; I've been so eager to devour it that many other shows have just been piling up. Had I watched the first season last year, I would have put in in the #3 slot of my "Top 10 of 2025" List (ahead of Slow Horses, behind Pluribus). If somehow you've missed it? You've likely got until next January to catch up in time for season 3.

Star Trek Flashback: Arena

Certain episodes of classic Star Trek loom large with the fans. Then there are the rare few that broke out even wider in pop culture. One of those is "Arena."

The Enterprise arrives at a colony to find it wiped out by an alien threat that's still in the area. After a skirmish on the planet, an interstellar chase begins. But that's interrupted when a super-powerful third party steps in to resolve their distastefully violent dispute. Captain Kirk and the reptilian Gorn captain of the enemy ship are transported to an alien landscape to battle it out one-on-one. Kirk seems hopelessly outmatched, unless he can apply reason to his situation... or find empathy for his foe.

There are people who have never watched a full episode of Star Trek who nevertheless know two things about this episode. The first is its location filming at Vasquez Rocks. While numerous episodes of Star Trek and other TV shows have filmed at this picturesque spot less than an hour from Los Angeles, the iconic rock formation featured in this episode has become indelibly linked with Star Trek. (Seriously: "Star Trek Historic Film Site" is a searchable map location.)

The second thing people know about this episode is that Kirk fights a giant lizard. This is a more ignominious claim to fame, thanks to the less than convincing rubber suit. The 2000s remaster of this episode tries to help a little with CG eyelids that blink, but there's no hiding the fact that this suit clearly couldn't move well. And it probably still cost a fortune. So we get a series of fights in which a suited stuntman can't move too fast for fear of hurting William Shatner (who he cannot see), and William Shatner can't dare to play rough for fear of damaging the lizard suit (which cost too much to put at risk). There's no other way to put it: these fights look silly. (So silly, that it was only natural to poke fun at them later.)

It's a shame the cheap looking suit hogs the spotlight, because so much else about this episode seems so expensive. There's extensive location filming -- not just for the titular arena where Kirk and the Gorn fight, but in a lengthy opening sequence where a landing party at the destroyed colony is bombed by an unseen foe. And it had better look good; William Shatner did some of his own stunts in this episode, and famously was so near an explosion when it detonated that he developed tinnitus that he's lived with ever since. Between opening the artillery sequence and the ensuing space chase, this episode is half over before we ever even get to the famous "Kirk and the lizard suit at Vasquez Rocks" material.

The late-onset silliness may also overshadow the solid Star Trek moral at the very end of this episode. The Gorn did not attack without purpose, and our heroes come to realize that they themselves -- not the Gorn -- may actually be in the wrong. Plus, this message in support of empathy and diplomacy comes at the end of a lengthy sequence where Kirk "MacGyvers" (before the term existed, of course) a weapon out of the materials he can kind -- a message supporting "brains over brawn."

And yet -- I wish that more of this episode felt original. We're not even halfway done with the first season, and we've encountered so many aliens with godlike powers that it's hard to keep track. The destruction of outposts and an ensuing space chase were the entire story in "Balance of Terror." So I find it hard to love this episode, no matter how famous it is, when half of it is a rehash and half of what's left is kind of hokey.

Other observations:

• Even with nearly 20 episodes in the can, Star Trek was still finding itself. The ship has "screens" instead of "shields," there's still clearly no concept of the "Federation" as people talk about "Earth outposts," and there's no real consistency between episodes about how fast is dangerously fast for the Enterprise.

• But we do get a vaporized redshirt, expected banter between Spock and McCoy, and a lot of Star Trek characters watching an episode of Star Trek. (Once you notice it, you'll see that characters on Star Trek watch viewscreen clips of themselves and their shipmates more often than you'd expect.) 

• Speaking of "watching Star Trek," Spock gets really weird about it. As he watches footage of Kirk figuring out how to build a weapon from raw materials, he groans "yes, yessssss...." like some kind of villain cheering on his minion.

This iconic episode does have many good moments. But when you're actually watching it, and not remembering it through rose-colored glasses, it has many shortcomings too. Overall, I'd give "Arena" a B-.