The Growth of Shrinking

When I blog about TV shows, it usually goes one of two ways: I dive in to an episode-by-episode recap of the entire show, or I post about it once and move on. It's very rare that I circle back to a show just finishing up a new season. But I feel compelled to do that about the just-finished third season of Shrinking.

Shrinking is a comedy-drama hybrid about therapist Jimmy Laird, who is struggling with grief after the sudden death of his wife. But with the help of his co-workers, his neighbors, a long-time friend, and a patient with whom he takes a very hands-on approach, he begins to pull things together for himself and his teenage daughter.

I admit, the description of the premise certainly doesn't sound funny. But the cocktail that is Shrinking is a delicately balanced one, with all the ingredients in just the right proportions. And if you're a TV fan who somehow hasn't tried Shrinking, perhaps it would help to know that one of the show's creators is Bill Lawrence, the guy behind Scrubs, Ted Lasso, Cougar Town, and most recently, Rooster.

When I first blogged about season one of the show, pretty much the only less-than-positive things I had to say about it were that the show took a few episodes to really get going, and that star Jason Segel wasn't as strong as the rest of the cast. Today, with season three just finished, neither of those things are true. The show knows exactly what it is. And more than perhaps any other cast member, Jason Segel has come to embody the show's unique blend of bittersweetness.

I wanted to mention the series again because season three was the best yet for the show. Every single one of the 11 episodes made me laugh out loud in moments and made me cry in others. Despite stiff competition from other things I'm watching right now, there was no other show I looked forward to more. Every single cast member -- Jessica Williams, Luke Tennie, Michael Urie, Lukita Maxwell, Christa Miller, and Ted McGinley -- was superb. Harrison Ford was doing the best work of his career. (Yes. I said it, and I meant it.) The parade of guest stars was extraordinary: Cobie Smulders, Brett Goldstein, Damon Wayans Jr., Lily Rabe, Wendie Malick, Michael J. Fox, Jeff Daniels, Candice Bergen... on and on and on.

And the show wound its way to a satisfying conclusion. Because yes, this was written as a series finale. Creator Bill Lawrence has stated that the show always had a three-year story plan, and this was it. He's now also agreed to make a season four. Is this going to be like the weird ninth season of the original Scrubs, or more like the new revival season I'm hearing good things about from fans? I guess we'll find out. But for now, the three seasons we have stand perfectly on their own.

Season three of Shrinking is the best TV I've seen so far this year. Eight months from now, if it no longer stands atop the heap, it will have been a truly extraordinary year of television indeed. Season three is a perfect A. If you've never watched Shrinking, I'd make it #1 on my list of recommendations for you. 

Star Trek Flashback: The Squire of Gothos

Almost 40 years on from the debut of Star Trek: The Next Generation, it's hard to imagine that when that series first launched, it was uncertain whether it would last, and its was actively hated by a small but vocal group of Star Trek fandom. (Look at Star Trek: Starfleet Academy today, and you'll see times haven't really changed.) While The Next Generation did indeed get time to grow (and wow, did it flourish), I have to admit the haters might have had a point about many of the very early episodes, which often blatantly ripped off story lines from classic Star Trek episodes. When the very first episode needed to be padded from a regular one-hour installment into a special two-hour premiere, Gene Roddenberry did so by adding Q, a character lifted directly from a classic Star Trek episode, "The Squire of Gothos."

Passing through an empty region of space, the Enterprise comes upon an entire planet seemingly out of nowhere. Its lone inhabitant, Trelane, is an eccentric alien with powerful, almost magical abilities -- and an unchecked desired to see the Enterprise crew perform for his amusement. Can our heroes figure out a way to neutralize or overcome Trelane's abilities? Or will Kirk be sentenced to death by Trelane in a show trial?

It's shocking just how closely the Q story line of "Encounter at Farpoint" follows the essential plot elements of "The Squire of Gothos," from the archaic speech and cosplay to the casual chauvinism to the mock court proceedings. It's little wonder that fans have been supposing that "Trelane was a Q" pretty much since Next Gen day one, a connection finally made official by Strange New Worlds in its most recent season. The story is only different at the margins, with the revelation of "Gothos" removed (that this powerful alien is actually a child) and the motives of the trial being added for "Farpoint" (all of humanity is being judged, not just the captain).

It seems certain that The Next Generation's rehash would never have gotten the traction it did without the performance of actor John de Lancie as Q. But I think that just goes to show how unthinkable the idea of a "sequel episode" was in late 1960s television. Trelane absolutely could have returned, because it's not like William Campbell gives a bad performance. Is he over the top? Absolutely. Is he petulant and obnoxious? You bet. Also, is he exactly what the script calls for? Of course. He's the reason why this episode was memorable in the first place, to be ripped off some 20 years later. There's a reason classic Star Trek would cast Campbell again as guest star in season two in another, also highly-memorable role.

The fact that we have both a 1960s and 1980s take on essentially the same story really highlights all the 1960s elements of "The Squire of Gothos," To illustrate to the 60s audience how commonplace space travel is in Star Trek's imagined future, it's happening as literally everyone on the bridge is drinking coffee. When actors are "frozen" by Trelane's power, there's no visual effect or even a locked-off single frame of film; they just have to hold still -- poorly. The leaps in logic our heroes make as they reason the limits of Trelane's power seem wild, dictated by episode run time more than reasonable extrapolation. The cartoonish sound effects that result when Kirk shoots out Trelane's "magic mirror" are actually laugh-out-loud silly. So are the efforts to enact a sprawling chase through a forest on the limited set the show is able to present. (All the money went, understandably, to the castle gate and interior.)

But the episode has its charms. Its great when Spock uses precise language to tell Trelane, to his face, how distasteful he is. It's fun to watch Kirk slowly discover the right way to handle Trelane (as the bratty child he's ultimately revealed to be). Scotty actually gets to be shown as a miracle worker in this episode, beaming up the first landing party despite interference (rather than exclaiming that some repair will take four times longer than it will).

Other observations:

• The episode makes a point of placing two characters, DeSalle and Jaeger, and then calling upon (respectively) their French and German ancestry. But the episode can't get everyone on the same page about referring to the later as "YAY-ger" or "JAY-ger."

• McCoy just dives on in, eating and drinking everything on Trelane's table. Sure, he "covers" a minute later when he shares the observation that none of it had any taste. But I love the "if I'm gonna be stuck here, I might as well try to get drunk" vibe.

• One moment, Trelane is said not to be aware of any Earth history in the past thousand years. The next, he's referencing Alexander Hamilton. (Though Trelane's "take turns shooting" rules of pistol dueling don't look anything like any other duel I've seen in pop culture.)

• A few moments have aged like milk, such as the moment when Trelane meets Uhura, or when Kirk talks about the boyish prank of dipping girls' pigtails into inkwells.

I might think more highly of this episode if the Star Trek of my childhood hadn't gone on to make so much more of the same concepts. On its own, I feel like "The Squire of Gothos" is a C+. 

Enterprise Flashback: The Forge

Under new showrunner Manny Coto, the fourth season of Star Trek: Enterprise finally embraced the series' promise as a Star Trek prequel with a three-part episode that pulled together bits of franchise lore into an eclectic buffet plate of fun. For its next trick? Another three-parter, this time focused on the Vulcans. It begins with "The Forge."

A bombing at the human embassy on Vulcan leads to accusations against a desert-dwelling faction with disfavored views of the historic Vulcan leader, Surak. When T'Pol learns that her mother is a part of this outcast sect -- and is now missing -- she and Archer set out into some of the most hostile terrain on Vulcan for answers. Meanwhile, the rest of the Enterprise crew find an unexpected ally in their perennial adversary, Soval, who himself doubts his government's evidence in the bombing investigation.

It's all but impossible to remember today, but there was a time where the legacy of Star Trek was carried only by the occasional film starring the original cast, and a series of licensed novels written by a parade of authors. Those novels remained popular with fans even after The Next Generation and other spin-off series arrived, with certain authors being especially beloved. Among those was husband-and-wife team Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens, who were tapped for the writing staff of Enterprise in season four, and whose first credited episode was "The Forge."

I read more than my share of those Star Trek novels back in the day, and remember them as being BY the most ardent of Star Trek fans, FOR the most ardent of Star Trek fans. So it seems like a perfect fit to have the Reeves-Stevens at the keyboard for this tale of "how Vulcans became Vulcans," featuring a mind meld, two different characters who first appeared in the original series, a new look at Vulcan consciousness enduring beyond death, and more. You want to see colossal statues wielding Vulcan ritual weapons? The first live-action appearance of a sehlat, an oft-mentioned Vulcan animal? Multiple homages to Spock's beloved story arc of Star Trek II and III? It's all here.

Maybe you're more of a then-modern Trekker than a fan of the original series. Don't worry, you're covered too. Actor Robert Foxworth, who guest-starred so effectively in a multi-part Deep Space Nine story about isolationists seizing control of government, returns here to do it again in Vulcan makeup. Much like the just-finished Augments story arc, there's a wealth of ways for a longtime Star Trek fan to get into this new story.

But if you're an Enterprise fan, first and foremost? I'm not sure this episode is nearly as fun. It kicks off with -- uh... 20-some-year-old SPOILER here -- the unceremonious death of Admiral Forrest, killed in the bombing on Vulcan. The episode tries to give him a dignified final scene with Ambassador Soval, but I really struggle getting over the fact that actor Vaughn Armstrong's recurring character sat out for the entirety of season three, only to finally be brought back here for a couple minutes before being killed off-screen. Even though Soval "mourns" his death (by Vulcan standards, at least), it feels like a writing trick -- cruel, cheap, or both.

It's at least a better episode for the regular characters. Trip is really the one to finally crack Soval's icy shell. Reed actually shows marginal skill (at last) during the investigation of the bombing. Phlox is able to expose the fraud in the official findings. And while I don't love Archer's behavior through most of the episode (antagonizing Soval; being rather chauvinist toward T'Pol), he seems on a path to learn something by the end of this episode, now that he's carrying the katra of Surak.

Other observations:

• Phlox's weirdly stationary approach to basketball seems appropriate to the character, though I'm not sure how it's so effective.

• I'm actually with Archer when it comes to the idea of a sehlat as a pet. "Porthos doesn't try to eat me when I'm late with his dinner."

I'm really not down with the treatment of Forrest to get this story rolling. But once it is, that story shows promise. I give "The Forge" a B.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

Andy Weir's book Project Hail Mary was one of my favorite reads of the last several years. Ever since the film version was announced, I've been waiting for it with equal parts enthusiasm and nervousness. They couldn't possibly mess it up, right? But were they going to mess it up?

When the movie finally arrived, I was out of town for a ski-trip-turned-board-game-trip. Fortunately, since I'd already read the book, I didn't need to worry about anything being spoiled for me. But I did start to get a bit worried about the rapturous response from audiences. There was no corner of social media where I wouldn't encounter someone raving about how good the movie was. ("Two thumbs down! If you know, you know!") Was the experience going to be totally overhyped for me by the time I finally did see it?

Well, maybe a little. But generally -- nope, the movie actually does manage to capture most of what made the book so enjoyable.

That book/movie, if you're unfamiliar, is the story of Ryland Grace, who wakes up aboard a spaceship that's traveled to another star. As his memories of how he got there slowly return, he tries to learn why this star is immune to a contagion that's gradually killing our own sun and threatening all life on Earth. What the movie campaign eagerly spoils (that talk of the book avoided) is that Grace has an unlikely ally on his mission -- an alien creature named Rocky from another star similarly affected. The two first learn to communicate, and then forge a deep friendship as they work together to save their planets.

It's tempting to become mired in what Project Hail Mary loses in transition from page to screen. To forge a potential blockbuster with broad appeal (something the filmmakers achieved!), they definitely sand down the sharp edges of all the science talk -- that's just not cinematic enough. To bring down the run time, most of the "slow progress" moments of the book are transformed into montages or sudden "eureka!" moments. (Not that the movie is "short," clocking in at 2 hours, 36 minutes.) But if you want all of that, the book still exists. Indeed, the movie has made me seriously consider going back to it soon.

And I mean that as nothing but a compliment. Because I really didn't receive the movie as some "pale shadow of the book," but rather as a potent reminder of everything I loved about the book. When you step back and think about it, the degree of difficulty here was impossibly high.

Few movies rely so much on the performance of a single actor. And not since Tom Hanks and Cast Away have so many people appreciated the ability of such a single actor to develop chemistry with the least likely of screen partners. The filmmakers' decision to realize Rocky through puppetry instead of CG was crucial. Their much-discussed choice to keep the voice performance of the lead puppeteer (rather than stunt cast a new voice-over) was alchemy. And Ryan Gosling is that good here. He's carrying the movie so well that you almost don't feel like he is carrying the movie; Project Hail Mary feels like a two-hander that just happens to have an unusual second character.

And before I move away from character and casting, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that Sandra Hüller is also very strong as Eva Stratt, head of Earth's planet-saving efforts. Hüller's performance actually made me appreciate the character more than the book, as she shades the bureaucratic martinet with just enough humanity and dry humor to make an important turn in the story hit harder.

The last time this particular screen writer, Drew Goddard, adapted an Andy Weir book, the result was The Martian. That was an excellent movie... which laughably won the Golden Globe for "Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy" simply because science fiction wasn't (probably still isn't) respected enough to compete in the Drama category. But Goddard's work here on Project Hail Mary, along with the direction by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, really does feel more legitimately comedic. This adaptation may have had to jettison some of the hard science, but it clung tightly to the elements of humor.

Finally, a few notes in praise of the filmmaking. Lord and Miller chose to do this movie using practical effects and in-camera effects as much as possible, and it's absolutely the right decision. In just the post-production time since the movie was filmed, the rise of AI slop has made most of us more savvy than ever to the artificial look of unreal images. And while talented Hollywood effects artists can, of course, achieve visuals much better than said slop, there's still at least a subconscious level on which most viewers reject something they know is completely digital. I already mentioned the decision to render Rocky through puppetry and not computers, but it goes beyond that. The "make it work somehow" ethos of the physical approach dovetails perfectly with the message of the story.

I also appreciated the music. The score by Daniel Pemberton shifted nimbly to support both humor and drama, and some notable "needle drops" certainly paid off well. (I might even say the one we get by The Beatles could be in the running for the most perfectly curated and placed Beatles track used in any movie.)

So... "thumbs down?" (If you know, you know.) Yeah. I'll give Project Hail Mary an A-, probably shaving a bit only for my total enjoyment of the source material.

Redder Late Than Never?

Months ago, when my friends and I locked in a spring break getaway to Steamboat Springs, I might have imagined a few ski days in fresh mountain snow. But by the time the trip arrived, Colorado (and much of the west) was ending a near-record year of low snowfall since recording began -- with snowpack actually at the record low. The daytime temperature ranged between 65 and 80 degrees for the entire week. Over the course of that week, the ski resort went from over 100 open runs to just over 40, with the only way down to the base being to hop back on the gondola.

So for me, there was no skiing. But we checked out the new scenario at the great local escape room, The Crooked Key, enjoyed some great food and drink, and played lots and lots of board games. I hope to talk about some of those in the days and weeks ahead.

I'll start with a game that may have just been rescued from a crack it fell through several years ago. I brought The Red Cathedral back from a Gen Con some time ago, whereupon my group played it once and then completely lost track of it amid new releases and persistent favorites. But it was a great choice to take on this trip -- a crunchier game in a small box -- and I got to revisit it more than once on the trip.

Players take on the role of builders working to construct Saint Basil's Cathedral under the watchful eye of the tsar. A pattern of cards outlines the base, towers, and spires of the cathedral, with players sometimes using their turn to take ownership of a card -- and responsibility to provide the materials to build it.

Eight actions are arrayed in a circle around a central board. On most of your turns, you will select one of these actions by choosing one of five dice. Move the chosen die clockwise by the number of pips it shows, and the place you land will determine the action you take. But also, the number of dice on the space you land determines the strength of the action. So the game often asks you to weigh getting the thing you want most right now against changing your plans to take advantage of a dice cluster that's just emerged. These clusters don't last long, you see; after each action, the player re-rolls all the dice on the space they used, scrambling the options for the next player.

There are other wrinkles in the mix, such as bonus actions you can take on the different spaces, and extra resources you can collect if you've paid in advance to get a bonus for moving a die of a specific color. The most significant wrinkle is the limited number of "ornamentations" you can build during the game -- on any completed section of the cathedral. The more jewels you earn and set into an ornamentation, the more points it's worth immediately, pushing you to take the time to earn all the jewels you can. But where the ornamentations are placed figures large in endgame scoring, pushing you to move as quickly as you can.

At endgame, each tower of the cathedral is assigned a point value, 2 points for each of its completed sections, plus 1 point for each "ornamentation" that players have built there during the game. Those same sections and ornamentations each provide one point of "control" for the player who built them, with the player who did the most scoring the tower's full value, the second most getting half, and the third getting half of that. So a well-placed ornamentation can swing the ownership of a valuable tower your way.

After replaying The Red Cathedral a couple of times, I couldn't quite understand how it had slipped off our radar years ago. This game seems right at the center of what my group enjoys. The rules set is right about our speed, the play time a compact "hour or less" for experienced gamers, and the number of decisions it asks of you throughout satisfying. I guess I must have brought something else really good back from that particular Gen Con years ago.

I give The Red Cathedral a B+. I suspect that this time around, it may remain in the mix a while. 

Starfleet Academy: Rubincon

Star Trek: Starfleet Academy concluded its first season with an episode meant to make you ask, "is there a typo in the episode's title?" Let's talk about "Rubincon."

Nus Braka captures Captain Ake, then proceeds to put her and the Federation on trial -- with Anisha Mir serving as judge. Meanwhile, Jett Reno and the cadets race to disable the weapons Nus Braka has used to mine the Federation border.

I noted about the previous episode that the short 10-episode season of Starfleet Academy didn't seem like enough time to show us how the characters had grown as close as the story required. That "not enough time" issue hangs over this finale too, as more time was also needed to show Caleb Mir's growing relationship to Starfleet. This entire episode builds to a poignant Caleb monologue, where he must convince his mother not only that Starfleet isn't the force for evil she's known it to be, but that it was key in making him the man he's become. Because Sandro Rosta delivers the speech well (and Tatiana Maslany is the one reacting to it), the moment does work. Yet, to borrow the legal parlance of this episode, I feel like it assumes facts not in evidence from the season as a whole.

And on the subject of that trial -- I find myself very divided about it. There's a long tradition of great Star Trek legal episodes, in which characters deliver lofty speeches and score moral points. I get why Starfleet Academy wants to take a run at that. But then... this isn't actually anything like a real trial. Nus Braka wouldn't conduct one, of course; he'd do exactly what he does here and stage an opportunity to grandstand. But it's so "not a trial" that Captain Ake doesn't even bother to put up any kind of defense. She has arguments, but doesn't even raise them until the "verdict" has been delivered and Caleb has arrived on scene. So to the extent this episode "promises" a trial at all, I feel like it doesn't deliver -- and that left me feeling a little unsatisfied.

But I felt the rest of the episode offered enough pleasures to make up for that. Give me "Captain Jett Reno" all day, every day. I never imagined we'd get to see Tig Notaro in the captain's chair -- never mind so much, and all while never taking off the teacher's hat. I thought all of Reno's material in this episode was well written, and perfectly delivered by Notaro. There's just a solid link there, with the writers knowing how to write for her, and performer in turn making the words fit perfectly.

I thought the "degree of difficulty" for Anisha Mir was higher this episode, more worthy of what Tatiana Maslany can do. Specifically, most of her key scenes in this episode were reactive. She had to listen to Nus Braka and Nahla Ake trade barbs, listen to her son's impassioned plea... all of her most important moments of the episode had no dialogue. But I still felt a whirl of emotion emanating from her character. And I appreciated that she was not so easily won over; there were no magic words Ake could say that would do it. 

I gotta say, I don't understand why or how the Doctor, of all people, would suddenly understand the way to stabilize a dangerous particle that has stumped scientists for centuries. But work past the conceit, and I liked how it set up Sam to save the day. I also liked how it set up Genesis to be the one to help Sam reconcile her feelings about the two different lives she's led. (Though again, I would have wished for more episodes to showcase more of her differences since returning from her home planet.)

I could have wished for more of the characters to figure more centrally in the plot. (Jay-Den, Darem, and Lura Thok didn't get much to do.) But at least we know they'll have another chance next season; this wasn't the final Starfleet Academy episode, period. I'd say "Rubincon" landed around a B... but overall, I found season one of this show to be engaging. I'll be ready for more whenever season two arrives.

Enterprise Flashback: The Augments

Star Trek: Enterprise concluded the first three-episode arc of its fourth season with "The Augments."

As the Augments escalate their attacks, Arik Soong realizes the extent of Malik's depravity and commits to working against him. Can Soong get back to Enterprise and convince Archer of his intentions? And can they actually stop these genetically enhanced foes before they strike a Klingon world and provoke an all-out war?

I talked a little in my last review about how this Augment story line was a classic three-act story arc for Arik Soong. There's not much left to say there. There's not much to say generally, in fact. This last hour basically puts the pedal to the floor on big action with big stakes. It does briefly poke at one moral quandary -- whether it's right for Soong to further alter the DNA of the Augment embryos to reduce their aggression, changing their nature. It's interesting to put a kind of "born this way" argument in the mouth of Malik, who is 100% villain at this point. But the audience isn't made to think about it too deeply. With the commercials taken out, we're in the final act of a two-hour action movie here.

But there are still a few quiet moments. Soong tries one last time to appeal to Malik, who has become utterly disillusioned with his "father." Trip and T'Pol talk about her recent marriage, and the star-crossed nature of a human/Vulcan relationship. Mostly though, we get a wide variety of action.

It starts immediately with the daring rescue of Archer from space. (The CG isn't great, but the idea of this action set piece certainly is.) Along the way, Malik puts Archer in a classic hero's dilemma -- to catch the baddie or save the innocent -- when he dumps a Denobulan ship into a gas giant. There's cloak and dagger, as Persis smuggles Soong off the Augment ship, and Enterprise bluffs a Klingon ship into allowing them passage through Klingon space. Malik and Persis get into a climactic knife fight (in perhaps the fourth or fifth moment you're made to think, "oh, now Malik has gone full pyscho"). Enterprise gets into a scrape with a Klingon ship and uses its grappler of all things to escape.

The episode pays plenty of fun homage to franchise history. The talk of whether Khan's lost ship is fact or myth is a fun argument, as are explicit "rhymes" in the story, like a burned Malik crawling around the wreckage of his defeated ship to set a self-destruct. But the episode also name-checks Insurrection's Briar Patch, and concludes with a playful nod to Soong's new interest in cybernetics, which he imagines will yield results "in a generation or two."

Other observations:

• There's fun makeup on Archer after he's beamed out of the vacuum of space. 

• The sequencing of action seems off to me in the middle of this episode. When Enterprise disguises itself as a Klingon ship, then encounters the Augments first, I found myself asking "what was the point of that? The Augments are going to treat any other ship as hostile." It's only later, when Enterprise encounters an actual Klingon ship in its territory, that the point of the ruse is made crystal clear.

• Enterprise's determination not to use its characters at all is so frustrating sometimes. Even Uhura got to say "hailing frequencies open" on the regular. At one moment in this episode, when Mayweather is issued an order, he doesn't even get a line of dialogue to acknowledge it.

• By this point, even Reed is aware of his own shooting accuracy. When Enterprise has to shoot down the Augments' weapon before it hits the Klingon planet, Reed fires three torpedoes. (And only hits on the third shot.)

• Malik is so tough, you have to shoot a "Death Becomes Her" style hole in him to finally take him out. 

• Even though Enterprise saves the Klingon colony, Klingons are always itching for a fight. Why wouldn't they still use this incident as provocation for war?

There's something about the conclusion here that feels awfully tidy. Maybe it's just that an entire 20+ episode season of Xindi stuff has conditioned me not to expect wrap ups to come so quickly. Still, even if it's tidy, the episode is fun. I give "The Augments" a B.