DS9 Flashback: Resurrection

It may sound like a riddle for Star Trek fans, but... when is a Mirror Universe episode not a Mirror Universe episode? When it's Deep Space Nine's "Resurrection."

The Mirror Universe version of Vedek Bareil crosses over, stirring feelings in Kira and (re?-)kindling a romance between them. But this Bareil is an accomplished thief and is secretly here on a job. Kira may lose him all over again... and Bajor may lose something rare indeed.

Show runner Ira Steven Behr makes this good point: "I knew we were going to get hammered for whatever show we came up with after the war arc and the wedding episode." He may well be right that nothing they could have put on the air could follow the proverbial "tough act" they'd created so far in season six. Still, much of "Resurrection" feels actively crafted to be contrary -- the opposite of what anyone would be excited to see.

That includes actress Nana Visitor, who said in interviews that she felt it out of character for Kira to so completely trust someone she'd just met -- and that Kira had already had more than enough time to move beyond the death of Bareil. Nevertheless, she gamely gives a solid performance as Kira (and, as always, a deliciously playful one as the Intendant). A lot of what Visitor does here, she does without little dialogue: playing hostage for Bareil when she knows she's in no danger, reacting to Sisko's meaningful story about his encounter with a mirror version of a loved one, conveying the weight of Kira's religious devotion more with how she speaks than what she says, and the performance-within-a-performance of Intendant Kira posing as Major Kira.

But one big problem with it all is that, unfortunately, Bareil remains fairly vacant even in this ostensibly more rugged version of the character. When he first beams into Ops in the teaser, he doesn't seem remotely dangerous. When he's contemplating his orb experience, he seems just as distant as he did before. What little chemistry there is between him and Kira seems to be Nana Visitor doing the heavy lifting, not guest star Philip Anglim.

To be fair, though, not all of this is Anglim's fault. He is given a couple of good moments, like regaling newlyweds Worf and Dax with a story over dinner (and a little table magic), and drunkenly yelling at the gawkers in Quark's. But mostly, the writing isn't helping here, whether is the strangely downbeat pillow talk of Bareil's "loved and lost" story, or his change in appetite being the only real marker f character growth.

The biggest problem with Bareil, though, is that the episode doesn't show us his orb experience. Sure, Kira says these things are private and personal. But we've seen inside the visions of characters before (including the original Bareil!), and doing so here would have gone a long way to explaining his decision at the end of the episode. Somehow, that vision moves him from reluctant schemer to reluctant hero, and his explanation of how that's so is rather paltry. I think in this case, seeing might have been believing.

Speaking of what we don't see here: the Mirror Universe. It seems to me the entire point of these episodes, going all the way back to Leonard Nimoy in a goatee, is to watch the actors we know and love cutting loose and vamping for the camera. Sure, Nana Visitor gets back in the catsuit for a scene (not coincidentally, the funnest scene in the episode)... but there's no "Smiley" O'Brien, no brazenly-evil Garak, no "Regent Worf," no joy here. Mirror Universe episodes are supposed to be play time, a romp. This one is so dour.

But, at the margins, there are a handful of good moments. Getting a better look at a Bajoran religious ceremony is nice. Quark's attempt to craft a scam with Bareil is on-brand, and the next scene in which he shatters Kira's romantic illusions really works -- even though Quark would normally be the last person Kira would take advice from. There are even a couple of small... well, smiles, if not laughs: we get more descriptions of the transparent-skulled Captain Boday, an awkward attempt by Bashir to get the latest gossip, and fun rapport between Dax and Worf.

Other observations:

• A scene cut for time from the top of the episode would have shown Dax in Kira's quarters, looking at some of Ziyal's art. Kira having an opportunity to talk about the loss she felt from a recent death might have helped a lot in explaining her behavior in this story.

• During the "hostage standoff" early in the episode, they're said to be heading to a runabout on Landing Pad A. When we get a glimpse outside the station, we see a runabout docked at an upper pylon instead.

• Mirror Bareil totally "Googles himself" to learn about his Prime Universe counterpart.

• Bareil's given name is revealed in this episode as Antos. Ira Steven Behr said this was chosen as an homage to West Side Story, and Tony's real name "Anton." Because Bareil and Kira are star-crossed lovers of a sort, I suppose.

• They detect Bareil's beam-in from the Mirror Universe. How does the Intendant get there undetected?

By this point in the run of Deep Space Nine, even the bad episodes weren't really all that bad. Still, "Resurrection" just isn't a very good episode. I give it a C+.

Belly Up at the Tavern

Deck building games have been around long enough now for game designers to introduce quite a variety of innovations to the genre. One of the more prevalent is to build pools of things other than decks of cards, like dice or tokens. It's almost novel just to see one of these games get back to cards, as with the recent The Taverns of Tiefenthal. Still, this is a game with other elements in the mix too.

Players each control a village tavern, trying to attract and serve patrons over a series of rounds. Each round begins with players revealing cards from the top of their personal deck until every table in the tavern is filled with patrons. On the way to doing that, you may reveal servers, dishwashers, even more tables -- a variety of things that can help you in the current round. Players then roll four dice and begin a drafting process, taking one and then passing the remainders to the next player. By matching up patrons to specific die values, you earn more money to expand your tavern with new cards. A second resource, beer, is spent to attract new patrons into your deck -- cards that can earn you more money in subsequent rounds.

There are a couple of tweaks to the expected deck builder systems. Cards you acquire are placed not in the discard pile to be used later, but on top of the deck where they'll come into effect on the very next round. In addition, each player has a personal board with lots of built-in, flippable tiles, each one representing a specific upgrade you can purchase to help you out along with your cards.

But despite the clear trappings of deck builders, The Taverns of Tiefenthal actually feels more like a drafting or worker placement game as you play. That dice selection element is very significant in the course of play -- you definitely want to be looking "upstream" to other players, to see what might get passed to you next as you consider what to pick now. You definitely want to be aware of what your growing engine is capable of producing, and plan accordingly -- you can definitely get paid by cards that want die numbers no one else is as eager to draft.

It also doesn't feel too much like a deck builder because there isn't that much variety in the cards. Where most modern deck builders have large collections of dozens of cards, this hearkens back to Dominion, where there are really only a few types of things in the mix. Although they're shuffled and recirculated like in a deck builder, they otherwise feel like the tools and abilities you gain access to in other kinds of Euro games.

The result is a custom cocktail, subtly different from other games -- and different even from the other "pool building" game from designer Wolfgang Warsch, The Quacks of Quedlinburg. Quacks has grown on me a bit since my initial review, though I still feel like there's a little more room to explore different strategies here in Taverns. With each game we've played thus far, we discuss afterward how one particular element might be the most important thing to focus on in play; we learn in the next play, from someone who did that to too great an extreme, that it isn't really the case. There's a finesse to Taverns that for now at least feels like it will be fun to master.

There's also a series of mini-expansions included in the game, gradually fleshing out the game with more mechanics. We've added some, but have yet to add them all, so there will be more discovery there too. (Yet the game does a good job feeling complete even without them.)

I give The Taverns of Tiefenthal a B+. It's managed to make it back to the gaming table a couple times since my friend introduced it, a strong sign in the constant stream of solid new releases. We'll see if it continues to pop up.

DS9 Flashback: You Are Cordially Invited

With the Dominion War arc concluded, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine turned to comedy and fun for its next episode, "You Are Cordially Invited."

Dax and Worf are getting married... if Dax can win the approval of Sirella, Martok's wife and stern leader of the House. But first: a raucous bachelorette party for Dax, and a traditional series of physical trials for Worf and his "groomsmen."

Staff writer Ronald Moore had been the go-to guy for Klingon episodes going back to The Next Generation, but he says he was especially eager to write this script for two reasons. First, he'd pushed on the previous series for Worf and Troi to marry, and never got his way. Second, he wanted a chance to undo some unintended damage he'd done to Klingon culture. For the episode "Redemption," it had been a plot point that women could not serve on the Klingon High Council. This snowballed over the seasons into an almost Ferengi-like marginalization of women in Klingon society. Here, he sought to balance the gender roles a bit by making Martok's wife Sirella the absolute ruler of their House.

It's in this that the only real drama of the episode comes: can Dax swallow her pride and win over a disapproving mother-in-law? And it does lead to some intriguing moments of culture clash: Martok's observation that Klingons don't embrace other cultures, they conquer them; Sirella's utter disdain for the alien she's being asked to welcome into her House; Dax being made to reckon with the fact that the respect earned in her past life as Curzon affords her no benefits now. But unfortunately, we don't actually see the scene where Dax turns the corner with Sirella. It's a story line without a climax.

And that's not the only important scene in this episode that we don't see. After Odo betrayed everyone during the Dominion War arc, he and Kira reconcile during an overnight conversation in Dax's closet. If this feels like a cop-out, Ronald Moore and show runner Ira Steven Behr thought so too. The original plan for this episode had been to have Odo announce publicly that he could no longer be friends with anyone, as he couldn't expect any of them to trust him anymore. For the rest of the season, Odo would be on a slow journey back to normal. Very late in the game, the writers all realized it wouldn't be good for the show or actor Rene Auberjonois to so thoroughly isolate Odo for so long. But it was so late in the game that there wasn't time to write a reconciliation scene for this episode. Thus, Kira and Odo vanish into the closet in turmoil, and emerge the next morning as friends.

In fairness, though, both of these missing scenes would have been quite heavy and serious, had we gotten to see them -- and that's decidedly not what this episode was about. Comedy is king here, and much of it really does work. The broad moments are fun, like clumsy Alexander taking out a waiter, everyone stepping back in unison to "volunteer" Bashir, Dax's wild party, or fading to black on the over-the-top sounds of Worf and Dax being whiffle-batted by their wedding party.

The fast one-liners are crisp, like Quark noting Alexander's handsome looks must come from his mother, the withering banter between Martok and Sirella, Quark calling Worf a "walking frown," Quark declaring there will be "no refunds" for the feast Bashir and O'Brien don't eat.... well okay, basically, it's quite a funny episode for Quark.

The more subtle moments work too, like Martok grousing about the paperwork that comes with promotion, Dax explaining why she's content to let Worf be a "groom-zilla" (she's done the wedding thing plenty of times herself), and Terry Farrell's convincing portrayal of a hangover the morning after Dax's party.

But the moments that work best are the improvisations by the actors. This sort of thing was normally discouraged on Star Trek, but here director David Livingston actually staged a real party with live music on set... and asked Aron Eisenberg to take center-stage. After some initial panic, Eisenberg came up with Nog's hilarious "hissing cat dance," which the cast and crew so enjoyed that Terry Ferrell joined in with him to cap the scene. (This relaxed mood trickled into other scenes too; J.G. Hertzler shows Martok's bewilderment at Sisko's baseball in a fun way.)

The episode serves up a pretty satisfying blend of "what you'd expect of Klingons" with a few surprises. Despite the characters' expectations of what a Klingon bachelor party will be, Worf's trials of deprivation and suffering are what I know I would imagine. But I'd also expect the conflict between Sirella and Dax to ultimately be solved through combat of some sort, and I'm pleased it was not. The wedding itself is fun too, with eye-catching red outfits, booming drums, moody lighting, mock swordplay, and a great speech about marriage being a union to fight against common enemies. (More great improv here in the reaction shots: Armin Shimerman shows how bored Quark is by the whole thing, while Nana Visitor conveys Kira's complete fascination with another culture's rituals.)

Other observations:

• The opening log is careful to tell us that the Dominion War is still on. Don't tune out thinking all the excitement is over, viewers!

• The reference to the starship Sutherland is a callback to The Next Generation, as is the ship's captain, Shelby. When writing the line, Ronald Moore was thinking that yes, this was the same character we met in "The Best of Both Worlds." He'd forgotten an explicit promise to Pocket Books that the TV series had no plans for the character, and that the Star Trek spin-off books could do as they wished with Shelby without contradiction. Consequently... maybe it's her, maybe it's just another captain with the same last name.

• In the scene where Worf goes to Martok questioning his marriage to Dax, there's a lovely slow camera push-in as Martok explains that one does not choose who they fall in love with. It's great that the heart of this speech plays in a single take.

• We didn't see Dax win over Sirella. We didn't see Kira and Odo reconcile. And we don't see any of the people you'd expect to show up at Worf's wedding -- not his human parents, and not the crew of the Enterprise. The producers did at least talk about the possibility of the latter, but it was going to be a lot of effort and expense for wordless cameos. Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton, both active Star Trek directors with offices already on the Paramount lot, were reportedly ready and willing. But the decision was made that if they couldn't get the entire Next Generation cast, they'd go without any of them.

Yes, you feel some things missing from this episode. But what's there is pretty fun. Dax and Worf's wedding was a long time coming on Deep Space Nine, and I think this episode delivers well. I give it a B+.

A Word on Onward

It's well-known that Pixar makes great movies that aren't just for kids. Still, you know that if you go to see a Pixar movie in a theater any time in the first, say, three weeks, there are going to be a ton of kids in there with you. How that may impact your viewing experience can be a real throw of the dice. So my husband and I long ago fell into a habit of waiting for at least a few weeks before going out to to see a Pixar movie. Any "kids' movie," really.

We were in that waiting period for their latest movie, Onward, when Everything Changed. Movie theaters closed, the film's box office run was cut short, and it was quickly released to streaming. It will undoubtedly be one of Pixar's biggest flops financially. But it is a better movie than that. If I were to say it falls somewhere in the middle of Pixar's catalog, that says far more about the strength of their movies overall than it does about any serious shortcomings of this one.

Onward centers on two elf brothers, Ian and Barley, in a society of modern technology and forgotten magic. When they discover a spell left behind by their late father that can bring him back for a single day, they embark on a quest to secure the item they need to cast it. Meanwhile, their mother Laurel learns her boys are in more danger than they realize, and takes off after them on an adventure of her own, teaming up with a "retired" manticore.

The movie is anchored by strong vocal performances from the main cast. Tom Holland plays Ian and Chris Pratt plays Barley, and the two have a strong rapport with one another -- even though one imagines all the dialogue was recorded separately, as is traditional with animation. It's basically typecasting to position Holland as the intrepid try-hard and Pratt as the lovable oaf, but it serves the movie well. Julia Louis-Dreyfus plays Laurel; the movie isn't constructed in a way that maximizes her comedic talents -- though she and Octavia Spencer, as "Corey" the manticore, do make for a fun "odd couple." Still, Louis-Dreyfus does get to play a less shallow, more caring character than she usually portrays, and does well with that.

And the movie does have a lot of heart. Pixar movies are known for this too, of course. Usually, the drama and laughter are folded together a bit more skillfully than it is here; Onward tends to lead more with the comedy and then gradually gives way to more serious stuff as it reaches the final act. Still, the heart is there, and it does make an impact. The movie has some nice things to say about fixating so hard on a dream that you miss things that are right in front of you. There's nothing as deeply moving as famous sequences from Up or the Toy Story films or Finding Nemo, but anyone with a fond sibling relationship will probably get a little dry-eyed at the devotion of these two brothers.

It's good that the movie is both funny and does have something deeper to say, because the setting itself isn't one of Pixar's most original creations. The world presented here is, in theory, inspired by fantasy, but a whole lot of it feels similar to Disney's Zootopia: it's our world, but with creatures! Nor is there any obvious new animation ground being broken here, no "look at how realistic the fur is!" or "how did they make the water?" This too probably speaks more of Pixar as a whole than about this movie; the bar is too high, the quality too consistently great, for anything but the most eye-popping visual innovations to register as novel.

Yet I hope I don't sound too down on Onward, because I really did enjoy it. Indeed, I think it's the studio's strongest effort (amid a series of good-but-not-great sequels) since Coco. I imagine there's no danger that people "won't find" the movie, but still, I hope they do. I give it a B+.

DS9 Flashback: Sacrifice of Angels

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine's six-episode Dominion War arc concluded with "Sacrifice of Angels."

As the Federation and Dominion fleets clash, time is running out to reach Deep Space Nine and prevent the dismantling of the mine field. With Kira, Jake, and Leeta all detained along with Rom, it's up to Quark to save the day. The end of the conflict will exact a high price from both Sisko and Dukat.

The space battle depicted in this episode was bigger than anything shown before in Star Trek -- and nothing would come close to challenging it until Star Trek: Discovery, decades later. Not surprising, then, that this was the first time all the visuals were created with CG and no model work. That, in turn, is why "we can't have nice things" like a high-quality re-master of this series as was done for The Next Generation; the effects were only ever rendered for standard definition, and many of the digital files were subsequently lost.

Still, fuzzy though it is on a modern television, the dynamic energy of it all still holds up. The combat here is thrilling, and loaded with memorable images. A pair of Galaxy-class starships fighting in tandem. Ships peeling apart under enemy fire. Klingons riding to the rescue out of the "sunrise." And so much more.

It works in large part because there's actually storytelling and strategy driving what we see. Sisko tries one tactic, goading the Cardassian ships to break formation. In Ops, Dukat recognizes this and (after taking the moment to throw Weyoun under the bus in front of the Founder) counters with a strategy of his own. Sisko in turn spots the trap, but has no choice but to step in. There's a real cat-and-mouse game to it all that heightens the tension.

Even more gamesmanship is happening aboard the station. Damar rounds up the resistance, getting crass digs in on Kira and Leeta in the process. Dukat and Weyoun are needling each other more than ever, Dukat annoyed at Weyoun's inability to enjoy the moment, Weyoun stunned at Dukat's never-ending neediness to control his own narrative.

Dukat's authoritarian nature has never been hidden, but it's explicitly on display here more than ever before. He observes that true victory is making an enemy acknowledge your greatness. He declares that the Bajorans were lucky to have him as their occupying leader. He laments the lack of respect he gets from everyone, despite how clearly he's entitled to it. It's pathological, and built up this high so that the fall at the end of the episode will be greater.

The writers always knew they wanted someone to die at the end of this arc, to drive home the cost of it all. Although they reportedly considered Nog or Garak as options early on, they soon decided it would thwart expectations to kill the villain's daughter, rather than any of the heroes. You could certainly argue this wasn't all that surprising, as Ziyal's death seems selected to motivate the story of men in her life (Dukat and Garak)... though that trope is at least subverted a little, as Ziyal also meant a lot to Kira. It would have been nice to see more of her reaction at the end of the episode, though; instead, the final moments focus on Dukat, babbling much like Norman Bates at the end of Psycho.

Odo's redemption is arguably more a result of the Changeling Leader's hubris. She pushes the control she thinks she has over Odo too far when she all but boasts of Kira's impending execution. And the hubris seems intact even when Odo turns on her; the last dialogue she gives in the episode is a declaration that Odo will still, one day, join the Great Link.

It's arguably Quark who goes through an even greater reversal. Though he was never the focus of any episode in the arc, he still went on a journey -- from believing the occupation was not so bad to actually taking up arms to end it. Though it's easy to focus on the John Woo, double-phaser action of Quark's rescue, the more significant piece of it is his character. From his reaction, it seems pretty clear that for all Quark has done, he's never actually killed anybody before -- not directly by his own hand, at least. It's a big moment for him.

But of course, the biggest moment of all is when Sisko rides into the wormhole to stare down an entire enemy fleet with his one ship. It leads to a divisive moment in the story. On the one hand, it's a literal deus ex machina, with gods arriving at the end to save the hero. On the other hand, the relationship between the Prophets and Benjamin Sisko has been in play since the very beginning of the series. It seems quite clear the Prophets would not have interceded in this way for anyone else, and the series finale ultimately does make good on the price they say they're extracting from Sisko in this moment: that he will never find rest on Bajor.

Other observations:

• I think I side with Nog over O'Brien and Bashir's creepy recitation of poetry at the beginning of this episode. They seem to think it's cool. Not really, I think.

• Dukat's unraveling is physical as well as psychological, with his hair wild and unkempt. The camera following him is unmoored as well, listing around him as he staggers across the promenade.

It's hard to love an ending that feels as "convenient" as this. And yet, it is an ending that feels consistent with the show up to this point. Certainly, the rest of the episode is strong enough that I can get past some ambivalence about its conclusion. I give "Sacrifice of Angels" a B+.

Howl at the Klune

I knew it wasn't going to be high art going in, but I was nevertheless curious to read the book Wolfsong, by T.J. Klune. Klune is a prolific writer of gay romance, and this book in particular among the most highly-rated by fans of the genre. From a brief description, you can imagine why it would be: it's gay romance involving werewolves.

Told in the first-person, Wolfsong unfolds over several years as a young man named Ox befriends the strange new family down the street and learns their supernatural secret. He's particularly drawn to their youngest son Joe, who is destined to one day become Alpha of their werewolf pack. Ox helps Joe overcome a past trauma, of being abducted by a twisted rival seeking power. Now that past is returning in the form of the villain himself, and it threatens Ox and Joe's relationship and both their families.

The book almost tells you straight out that it's trying to be Twilight with gay characters, by mentioning that famous series by name multiple times in dialogue. Supernatural romance is a huge subgenre in fiction; why not give LGBT audiences their due? But if you're looking for something that might be better than than that inspiration, that might rise above the tropes somehow? Nah, don't get your hopes up.

The truth is, Wolfsong doesn't have the most compelling story. I'd call it predictable, but the author doesn't seem like he's making any effort not to be. At multiple points in the narrative, Klune comes straight out and has his protagonist Ox tell you that "looking back later, I'd remember this moment and think..." In this way, every major plot development is telegraphed well ahead of time. And Ox is deliberately built to not be the brightest of characters. What the reader has figured out takes Ox 100 pages or more to catch up with.

I wasn't even especially convinced by the romance at the heart of the story. There's a significant age gap between Ox and Joe -- not so big an issue later in the years-long narrative when both men are in their 20s. But it's quite awkward at the beginning when Ox is 16 years old and Joe is literally a boy. To root for their relationship in any way would feel creepy. To watch one unfold after what they experience in their youths feels almost incestuous. Klune can certainly write a steamy scene when the time comes -- which, lets face it, is probably what most readers are really here for. But the circumstances between those scenes really force you to engage in some willful amnesia.

I knew Wolfsong wasn't going to become my favorite book before I started reading it. But I had dared to hope for a little more. I'd give it a C+. Though it's the first of a multi-book series, I'm not sure I can see myself continuing to read them.

Dem Bones, Dem Bones

Board games are a popular project on Kickstarter, especially epic games with lots of intricate miniatures. But one Kickstarter project that went on to make the Top 100 games at BoardGameGeek decided to load their box with tons of a different component: dice.

Too Many Bones is a game that fuses elements of role-playing games (play one character, work as a party, go on an adventure to take out a Big Bad) with elements of Euro games (more structured encounters, curated rules systems that don't require anyone to act as "game master"). And dice. (Or "bones.") So many bones. Too Many Bones -- over 100. Player characters have custom dice to represent the various powers they can level up into (over a dozen unique abilities for each character). Evil "tyrants" have custom dice to represent their powers. There are dice for initiative, dice to track negative effects, dice for attacking and defending... dice, dice, and more dice!

Honestly, there's so much in the box that the game comes on a bit overwhelming at first. It feels hard to learn, harder still to teach, and once we started playing it for the first time, my initial reaction was that the game was capturing the more tedious elements of RPGs -- the bookkeeping and player-aid consultation -- rather than the cool storytelling parts. I hung in there, though, and soon the game's charms began to show.

In the manner of so many sophisticated games, Too Many Bones does make sense and seem not so complex once you've gotten into it. And those complexities aren't without purpose. Each of the four player characters that comes with the game is completely different in terms of what it can do, and what strategies to focus on when playing it. It gives everyone a distinct role in what turns out to be a reasonably compelling RPG simulation. No, the story elements are not remotely as sharp as what a real RPG can provide, but the sense of accomplishment and teamwork is very similar.

The stark differences in characters adds a lot of replayability to the game. It'll take you several playthroughs just to figure out how to play one character well -- and even then, there are three others in the box. The differences also help cut down on too much "quarterbacking," when a cooperative game is dominated too much by one player dictating strategy to the group. No one knows your character better than you (at least, until you're all experts at the game), so everyone has a valuable contribution to make.

There's also nice mitigation for all the randomness of the dice rolling. Failed results earn you "bones" symbols you can save up and use for other effects during a battle. The more you strike out when attacking or defending, the more powerful the special ability you can trigger by spending your bones. Plus, many dice aren't even rolled at all in the course of play -- they're just counters you use to track things (and easier to use than separate piles of tokens would be).

I've played the game a few times, and it has grown on me every time. I admit, though, that one hesitation I have remains: it is a long game. Depending on the strength of the "tyrant" you must defeat in your playthrough (and the number of players involved), the game can reportedly run anywhere from 1 to 4 hours. We have yet to complete a game in under two. For many groups, this isn't a drawback at all. In our group, this is a lot of time to devote to one game.

Also, some systems within the game feel more robust and replayable than others. There are, for example, a wide variety of monster powers, and an even wider variety of different loot cards you can earn as rewards during your adventuring. But the 4 x 4 grid on which combat takes place doesn't really feel like it gives much room for tactics. And an interesting lockpicking mechanic peters out partway through most playthroughs of the game, once everyone has unlocked the one locked item they start with. (There's no inherent way to get more.)

Still, Too Many Bones stuck with me longer than any other similarly epic game I've played in a while. A game I'm open to playing again, knowing it could take three or more hours when I do? That's a true rarity. For the moment, I'd grade the game a B... but I could see that rising if indeed we do get to play it more.

No Rest for the Wicked

I have yet to see a John Wick movie on the big screen at a movie theater. And yet I do keep seeing them, despite a lukewarm reaction to them all. That trend continued with the latest, John Wick: Chapter 3—Parabellum.

Perhaps the secret that keeps me coming back is how slight the plots are. It seems like a John Wick film never aspires to be more than an armature upon which to sculpt action sequences. I mean, lots of summer action movies are built that way, but unlike your average, say, James Bond or Mission: Impossible movie, a John Wick plot is almost laughably simple. It's the Dr. Seuss of hyper-violence. Consequently, I forget almost everything about a John Wick movie not long after I see it, which soon leaves me open to the idea of seeing another one. (I mean, I'd remember if I'd thought it was really bad, right?)

This third installment has the slightest story yet: John Wick is blacklisted and on the run from other assassins. Mind you, I'm not saying this threadbare plot is a negative. Indeed, it helps this movie start out stronger and faster than either of its predecessors. (From what I recall... which, as I just said, isn't much.) There are some fantastic early action sequences, including an aggressive knife fight (that seamlessly uses CG tricks on the weapons to heighten the danger), and a wild slugfest inside a horse stable. The movie continues to pick up steam when it introduces Halle Berry as a new character. She kicks as much ass as Keanu Reeves, and she's paired up with two vicious attack dogs that kick even more. It feels like the deliriously fun culmination of constantly trying to top themselves, and it totally works.

But then Berry's character exits the movie barely half an hour after coming into it, and she takes most of the fun with her. There are still plenty more action sequences to get through, but the movie has already peaked. A motorcycle chase sequence lacks energy, in large part due to it still being incredibly difficult to green-screen night environments convincingly. More and more story time is given to a villain who never fights at all, an all-bark-and-no-bite figure that doesn't really work with the tone of the franchise. And the movie just keeps going... and going... and going, trying to wring more than is possible from its simple plot. It's half an hour longer than the original John Wick movie, and I felt that was only time in which the movie wore out its welcome.

Yet still... it's not bad, it's just too much. My prediction? By the time I can watch John Wick 4 on my couch, I will have forgotten most of 3, and will find myself going in for the franchise again. But for the moment, at least, while my memory holds, I'd call Chapter 3 a C+. It has its moments, but doesn't know when to quit.

DS9 Flashback: Favor the Bold

The six-episode arc that opened season six of Deep Space Nine was at one point during the planning a five-episode arc. But the intended conclusion, featuring the battle to retake the station, proved in the writing to be too much for 44 minutes. It was expanded into the one explicit "To Be Continued..." cliffhanger of the group, beginning with "Favor the Bold."

At Dominion-occupied Terok Nor, the mine field blocking the wormhole will soon be coming down. The secret resistance aboard the station must get word out to the Federation to send their fleet before it's too late. All looks grim: the Klingons have committed no ships to the effort, Rom sits in a holding cell awaiting execution, and Odo seems lost completely to the influence of the Changeling Leader.

Plot-wise, this episode doesn't cover too much ground. Much of the episode either restates themes of the previous one (Odo's gone bad, Rom's been arrested), or sets up for things we won't see until next (the battle for the station). Still, there are nice character vignettes throughout that make this installment worthwhile.

We see examples of how our heroes have adjusted to the reality of war. The Defiant and the Rotarran have developed a method for baiting Jem'Hadar ships and luring them in for the slaughter. Quark can now play Damar like a fiddle, extracting intel from him over drinks. Nog has so come into his element that he receives a field promotion to ensign.

But it's also true that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sisko and Dax still tell it straight to each other, no matter what. Garak still trusts no one, least of all the Starfleet "interrogators" he thinks have bugged his head. Ziyal is once again on the outs with her father Dukat, and Kira is sanguine about the cyclical pattern of their relationship. O'Brien still banters with Nog even after the latter's promotion.

This episode certainly doubles down on the behavior of the villains. The not-so-subtle aspects of sexuality and control in the Changeling Leader's treatment of Odo are expanded. They try intimacy "as solids experience it." She's more explicitly molding his thinking, saying he soon won't find Kira important anymore. She sweet talks him, saying that in her isolation from the Great Link, she now has a sense of how alone he must have felt all his life. And whenever it seems Odo might slip away from the cult of Founder, she links with him again to reassert her influence. But we see how toxic that influence is; when Odo expresses even a little sympathy for the limited perspective of solids, she replies with a fascist pledge to "break them."

Dukat and Damar become even more intense versions of themselves. Dukat won't lift a finger to help an "enemy of the state," even at his daughter's request. Damar and Kira clash more than ever before, first verbally over her attitude, and then physically when he tries to manhandle Ziyal. And to each other, Dukat and Damar express their xenophobia, and how much they secretly hate working with the Dominion.

There's some fun fleshing out of Weyoun as well. We learn that Vorta have no sense of aesthetics, and that they have "weak eyes" but "good ears." Weyoun behaves like a loyal dog when it comes to the Founder, reacting with rancor when Kira insults them, and cowering when disciplined (even mildly) by the Changeling Leader herself. Through it all, it seems like Weyoun takes real joy in his work. It's all just a game: the consequences of executing Rom don't reach him at all, and he's actually thrilled to hear of Sisko's promotion.

The episode is carefully nudging Quark closer to open resistance himself. He tries a lot of approaches to getting his brother out of jail that are clearly going to cost him favors and latinum: reaching out to the Grand Nagus, trying to visit Odo, and hiring some Nausicaan thugs. (Still, he reverts to form when he smells a deal -- he's ready to negotiate when Leeta offers to work for free for his help.)

In another important seeding of information for the next episode, much is made of Sisko's growing fondness of Bajor. He's less concerned over the possibility of a Dominion attack on Earth than he is with the threat to Bajor. He reveals his plans to build a house there some day (in the most explicit plant for the next episode).

Other observations:

• I'm not necessarily a believer in the idea that every last detail of a story needs to be mapped out before the writing begins. (Even less so in television.) Still, it feels really clear by this episode that there wasn't really a plan for Jake Sisko in this story arc. He feels quite shoehorned in here.

• It's a fun insight into Klingon diplomacy that Martok believes Gowron will be most persuaded to take action when both an ally (Martok himself) and an enemy (Worf) argue for the same thing.

• There's a conspicuous panning shot in Quark's bar that features two random Cardassians, a Ferengi waiter, and an unknown Bajoran all in one take. It's like they're all contest winners for a walk-on silent role or something.

• The image of the huge Federation fleet leaving the station is incredibly impressive, especially for the time. And when we're told the Dominion ships still outnumber them two-to-one, it certainly sets up for an amazing finale.

This is a classic "all set-up" part one of a two-part episode, but there are enough moments in it for me to generally enjoy it. I give "Favor the Bold" a B.

Baby Talk

Every now and then, I try out a classic movie with a strong reputation. Occasionally, I find a gem. But horror movies in particular don't often hold up. So it was with Rosemary's Baby, the story of a pregnant woman manipulated by a Satanic cult to give birth to the spawn of the Devil himself.

Rosemary's Baby is a particularly rough movie to watch through a modern lens. Made in 1968, and all about pregnancy, it's especially loaded with paternal and chauvinist attitudes. There are moments here and there where the main character looks like she's going to take charge, moments that are vaguely empowering, but ultimately that's not the story this movie is telling.

It plays doubly rough to know that it comes from director Roman Polanski. This movie was made some time before he pleaded guilty to statutory rape and fled the country, but you cannot help but look at this art and see that artist. Rape figures prominently in the plot, as does gaslighting, and over-the-top male fantasy. A movie like this would never be made today (though, I admit, it makes me a little bit curious what was done to it when it was remade a few years ago as a mini-series with Zoe Saldana).

The movie isn't without merit, though. Though it's all fairly predictable in the way any 50-year-old movie is (whether you've heard snippets of its plot or not), there are some good moments of tension. Fun signposts of coming twists are set up throughout the opening act. The leading woman, for the most part, figures things out fast enough to be heroic, but slowly enough to make the story fun.

There are some good performances, too. Mia Farrow is really quite good as Rosemary, really digging deep and being emotionally vulnerable. In the moments that ring false, I wouldn't fault her; I think the script asks too much of any actor at times. There's also a fun nosy neighbor character, Minnie, played by Ruth Gordon -- who won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for this role. It's so over-the-top that it's silly most of the time, but there's something about that texture that actually works well in the movie.

I'd say the movie works out to a C overall. It's really not something worth a general recommendation. Horror aficionados might appreciate its place in building tropes that would be played upon later. (The Omen, for example, owes a huge debt to this.) But many would say that today, this movie should just be "canceled." I wouldn't go that far, but I certainly wouldn't want to lead the defense of it.

DS9 Flashback: Behind the Lines

In the first half of the six-episode arc that opened Deep Space Nine's sixth season, the stories told aboard the station revolved largely around Kira. With "Behind the Lines," the focus turned to Odo.

The "leader" of the Changelings arrives at Terok Nor, and all her rocky history with Odo is forgiven. As Odo spends more time with her, his perspective and priorities shift. Soon he's abandoning his friends on the station -- and in their time of greatest need, as Damar announces he's found a way to dismantle the mine field at the wormhole. Meanwhile, Captain Sisko is promoted to a more tactical role under Admiral Ross, with Dax taking command of the Defiant. Sisko must adjust to sending others into battle rather than leading them himself.

Going behind the scenes of "Behind the Lines," this episode of the Dominion War arc was reportedly the toughest to write, with both halves of the story undergoing significant rewrites. This was the episode where "Odo turns bad," and the writers had a tough time getting there believably. The original story in fact had Odo arresting Rom himself, fully turning on his friends. Odo's treachery was wisely rewritten to be a result of inaction rather than action.

While I think the final version does mostly work, not everyone involved in making the episode was on the same page about it. The Changeling Leader seems quite manipulative here, though actress Salome Jens once noted in an interview that she didn't even realize her character was a villain in her prior appearances. She's rather explicitly using sex to coerce (director LeVar Burton: "She was seducing him. Straight up. Plain and simple."), even though staff writer Hans Beimler claimed the Link between changelings is intimate but not sexual.

In any case, we do get some insight into the Changeling mindset -- the Great Link seems like an enormous feedback loop that has amplified xenophobia for centuries. Whether the Leader really is being truthful with Odo or not, it's clear that he's but a child compared to her. He's easily influenced (and yes, perhaps easily duped). But Odo and Kira are at odds even before the Leader arrives, with Kira pushing acts of resistance more brazenly than Odo is comfortable with. At any other moment, Kira would probably win a "choose them or me" contest for Odo's loyalty, but not at this moment.

Whether you believe Odo's descent or not, there are plenty of other great scenes aboard the station. Weyoun and Dukat smiling for their troops is both funny and illustrative of their characters -- Weyoun is great at it, while Dukat is not. The brinksmanship between the two as they interact with the Changeling Leader is also a lot of fun. Meanwhile, Quark's conscience expands again, and he funnels key information to the resistance as a result. And once you know where Damar's character goes in the series long term, you might perceive that his conscience is bothering him here too. He might be a raging alcoholic... or he might be drinking to dull his guilt. Plus, the climax of this story line is well executed suspense, with Kira just missing her ticking clock to save Rom when she's distracted by Damar.

Because the writers wanted greater emphasis on the station story line in this episode, the B plot also went through several rewrites. A first draft about Sisko ordering inexperienced forces into battle was replaced with a second draft about Dax discovering a lust for combat when she takes charge of the Defiant. Finally, it was all scaled back to a low key story about Sisko learning to let go.

Since this is about Sisko -- and presumably to save budget for the massive battle planned at the end of this story arc -- we don't actually go on the mission with the Defiant. This isn't about the action, it's about the waiting behind and not being in the action. The moments we see are informed by moments we don't see: that Nog has found a way to get liquor in a crisis; or that over many battles, Sisko has developed a ritual with the Defiant crew that Dax will now carry on without him; or that Ross feels like he has a living, breathing past more real than that of any previous admirals we've met on the series.

Other observation:

• Just this: it might have been nice to have one more episode at this point in the arc. Though it makes sense to follow Sisko in this episode, it would have been good to see a Defiant mission with Dax in command. Similarly, I think there could have been a story somewhere in Kira having to actually continue the resistance with Jake and Quark, having nowhere else to turn to.

I give "Behind the Lines" a B+. It does a nice job setting up the two-part conclusion of the larger story arc.

Getting Medieval on Your Game Table

The roll-and-write genre of board games -- in which players roll dice, then mark things off on a personal game sheet -- has been experiencing a big surge of late. But it's not actually a new genre. One of the earliest such games, Roll Through the Ages, was a Spiel des Jahres nominee almost a decade ago. And it's now getting a face lift with Era: Medieval Age.

Each player receives a peg board (think Battleship, but not hidden). Dice are passed around the table. On your turn, you roll dice to generate building actions and resources, which you then use to place 3D plastic buildings on your peg board. Your buildings feed citizens in your infrastructure, generate additional resources, and meet conditions that give you victory points. But beware -- the dice can also inflict complications on both your cities and your opponents'. Planning for inevitable setbacks is part of the strategy.

I've actually never played Roll Through the Ages, so I can't say how closely this new game adheres to the original or how much has been changed here. I can say that there are things to like about what's here. There are a lot of interesting strategic choices to be made in this game, from what buildings to aim for to how to position them on your board, from rethinking your plans when your rolls don't quite support them to planning ahead for inevitable disasters.

The pace is very brisk. Players actually roll all their dice together each round -- secretly, behind a screen. Only actions are sequenced around the table, which saves everyone time and keeps you active in play for more of the game. The box claims a 45-60 minute play time overall, and that actually feels true even on your first playthrough (after the rules explanation, of course). If you were to play this regularly, I suspect you could get even a four-player game down close to 30 minutes, with the right group -- the choices are there, but they're simply not that difficult or daunting to make.

But I do have some reservations about the system. There's a scarcity among the game's buildings, limited numbers of each type, that I don't think meshes well with the dice mechanic. While there are ways to mitigate unlucky rolls a little bit, it's still possible to have a turn (or two in a row) that really blocks you out of taking important actions. On such turns, it's easy for the other players to swoop in and build the last available building of a particular type, closing you out of it entirely through no fault of your own -- just bad luck. And while it is nice this game plays fast, that also means that it may not last long enough for good luck to come along and balance out the bad.

The game's components leave much to be desired, too. The peg boards have informational tracks along the top, but the embossed labeling of the tracks is too faint to be readable. Fans of the game do paint washes on their boards so they can be functional; subsequent printings added stickers to put over the top, since the components themselves weren't doing the job.

And yes, there are all these elaborate 3D buildings... but it's hard to believe they really add much to the experience beyond inflating the price of the game. It feels like a roll-and-write when you play it, whether or not you know it's based on a pre-existing game of that type. The limited number of buildings might be a little tricky for a roll-and-write, but other than that, you could easily have just done this game drawing on paper with pencils. The building minis all have pegs on the bottom to work with these boards too, so it's not like you could buy this games because you want to swap the pieces into some other game just because you like the look. It's all sizzle, no steak.

Era: Medieval Age is not a bad game. But it honestly makes me more interested in playing Roll Through the Ages than playing it again. At a lower price tag, I might call it a B- or so, a "try it, see if you like it" kind of grade. But at a $70 MSRP, I think I'd have to give it a "caution against" kind of grade, a C+.

When Your Friends Are Simply the Worst

"Traitor" games have always been popular among my group of friends -- each for their own bit of time, anyway. We started out way-back-when with the granddaddy, Werewolf, moved onto The Resistance and Don't Mess With Cthulhu, and sampled others along the way. We seem to enjoy getting a big group together to lie to each other. But we recently found our favorite game yet in the genre: Secret Hitler.

DISCLAIMER: "Recently" in this case is a rhetorical flourish. Here's a little secret about my blog that's now being unmasked. I actually have a considerable backlog of posts right now. In "normal business," I let current things like new movies jump in line, and dole out the things that are sort of "timeless" on days I don't feel like writing something. This is one of those older posts; I could not have imagined when I first wrote it months ago that getting together a big group of friends to play a board game would in fact come to feel very dated. In any case -- a lot of my backlogged posts are about board games, some going all the way back to my ski trip in early February! (Remember skiing?) You'll probably be seeing more game posts in the weeks to come.

Anyway... back to Secret Hitler.

It's 1930s Germany. Players are randomly assigned a role as a Liberal or a Fascist. One of the fascists is Hitler. Secretly. Fascists know who each other are, as well as their would-be leader. Hitler is in the dark, unaware who is on his side. In each round, a President (which is passed clockwise around the table each round) nominates a Chancellor to form a government. All players vote on whether to elect the pair. If elected, the president draws three tiles from a stack of Liberal and Fascist policies. The president rejects one in secret and passes the remaining two to the Chancellor. The Chancellor rejects one of those, and the remaining policy passes. Over several rounds, if five Liberal policies are passed, the Liberals win! But if six Fascist policies are passed, the Fascists win.

Lots of bickering ensues whenever a Fascist policy is enacted. But the truth isn't always so easy to ascertain. The stack of policies is weighted almost 2-to-1 in favor of the Fascists; maybe when things go bad, it's because the leaders had no choice? Maybe the President was a Fascist? Or maybe it was the Chancellor? Who should be excluded from any future governments?

Things get dicey as more Fascist policies are enacted, because each one passed activates an immediate power for the President -- the ability to conduct espionage on another player's role, or eventually even to assassinate a player and remove them from the game. If Hitler is assassinated, the Liberals win! But if the country is going Fascist and Hitler is elected Chancellor, the Fascists win! Oh, what a tangled web of deceit and intrigue.

The rules of Secret Hitler are only marginally more complicated than those of the most basic "hidden role" games. And yet those few additions carry many times their weight in strategy. There are a lot of compelling ways to sow mistrust in the game. You can work for good early as a Fascist, only to turn cloak later, and the game gives you enough runway to do that. Plus, the special "third role" of Hitler -- who wants Fascism but doesn't know who his allies are -- adds a fun wrinkle to the mix.

The components of the game are a real treat that adds to the experience. Policies are hefty tiles. Roles and faction cards are hidden in envelopes. The President and Chancellor roles are marked by wooden desk plates that thunk satisfyingly when you pass them around the table. You could conceivably play Secret Hitler with your own cobbled together components, but the real thing truly does take it to another level with its thoughtful art style and tactile thrills.

If you're the sort of player stressed out by these kinds of bluffing games, who simply doesn't like gathering with friends to lie to each other, I can't imagine Secret Hitler will win you over. But if you're a fan of any game in the genre and haven't tried this one, you're really missing out. I could imagine its subject matter being off-putting to some, but I can think of no flaws with its incredibly clever system. (And we've already played it a ton in my group.) There's even a smartphone app to guide you through the game setup, with hilarious dialogue delivered by a joyously hammy Wil Wheaton.

Other hidden role games have faded with time among our group, but it seems like Secret Hitler may be built to last. I give it an enthusiastic A.

DS9 Flashback: Sons and Daughters

In the six-episode opening arc of Deep Space Nine's sixth season, the third episode, "Sons and Daughters," was closest to being a stand-alone story. Perhaps it's not a coincidence that it's also the weakest episode of the arc.

Worf's son Alexander comes to serve aboard the Klingon ship Rotarran under his father and Martok. Alexander's clumsiness and frequent mistakes only aggravate the animosity between him and Worf. Meanwhile, Dukat brings his daughter Ziyal back to the station to live with him. Kira finds herself caught between her hatred for Dukat and her caring for his daughter.

I think the main reason this episode doesn't work well for me is that it's really just a restatement of material that's already been covered. In the case of the Worf-Alexander storyline, it's at least material that hasn't been dealt with before on Deep Space Nine. Still, the two have regressed from where they were at the end of The Next Generation, and only to end this episode more or less where they were before.

When last we saw Alexander, Worf had seemingly made peace with the idea that his son's path need not be the path of a warrior. You have to pencil in a lot of details for yourself to get from there to where this episode opens. I suppose that regardless of what Worf said, the fact he sent Alexander away to live with his parents again must have made the boy believe otherwise. It would help if we had any insight on why Alexander so needs his father's approval; while plenty of people yearn to please their parents, plenty don't, and I'm not sure there's a compelling reason to put Alexander in the former category.

For this story to work, we need to believe that Alexander wants this warrior life so badly that he's willing to suffer scorn from his father, and endure endless teasing (and physical abuse) from his shipmates. This is a boot camp movie without the opening act that shows us why the main character wants to enlist so badly. Martok even asks him why he's there, point blank, and he doesn't have an answer. I'm not sure the writers have one either, other than to make drama for Worf.

But there are a handful of nice moments sprinkled throughout this lackluster story line. It actually presents Martok as a much more rounded character than the average Klingon; yes, he waxes nostalgic about glory in battle, but he's also quite philosophical about the relationship between fathers and sons, gives solid advice throughout to both Worf and Alexander, and ultimately welcomes the bit-of-a-screwup into his house. Most Klingons, I think, would not do that.

Meanwhile, the Kira story line is retreading ground we just covered in the previous episode. There, Kira learns to her horror that she's become too at ease with the Dominion Occupation. Here, she discovers she's become too at ease with Dukat. Both actress Nana Visitor and the writers had been very clear that in Kira's mind, Dukat was Hitler. I have a hard time believing she would forget that for even one moment. But I do suppose for that ever to happen, Ziyal would have to be involved.

Still, the episode heaps on so much reason to hate Dukat. He's forcing Kira to dress up and greet him whenever he returns to the station. He says Ziyal is back in his life now because he forgave her betrayal. And Kira even calls him a despot to his face, before deciding she's let herself go too far in being friendly with him. This might have been a better story if Kira, freshly resolved to work as a sort of embedded spy, discovered that not even for the benefits of that information could she swallow her hatred for Dukat. But no, it seems to be just about Kira getting caught up again in the trappings of comfort, briefly forgetting herself.

But in this story line too, there are moments that work. Damar continues to be fleshed out, a mini-dictator throwing around what little clout he has. Ziyal is shown to be a naive but well-meaning spirit, setting her up well for where this six-episode arc will take her. The moment where she sits between Dukat and Kira, both smiling over her art like proud (divorced) parents -- and the way Kira's smile melts from her face -- is perfect. Dukat taking a sexy gift he'd intended for Kira and immediately re-gifting it to his daughter? It's such a precise distillation of his character. Just as Kira's final scene is a distillation of hers: she knows that Ziyal will always choose her father, and that's understandable, and Kira isn't going to fight it.

Other observations:

• The writers are still pointing out the Worf-Dax wedding on the horizon. Here, Dax gets in a pretty funny dig about how joining a Klingon House brings the hassle of constant blood feuds to settle.

• Klingons grow up fast. In the Next Gen/DS9/Voyager phase of the Star Trek franchise, each season of the show was said to be a year of fictional time. This makes Alexander 8 years old in this episode.

• This episode highlights that there really wasn't a specific plan for how to use Jake Sisko in the Dominion War arc, beyond the notion that leaving him on the station had dramatic potential. He spends this episode (and the rest of the arc) trying to convince Kira that he'd be useful to the Resistance.

• The climax of Alexander's story is ambiguous in an unsatisfying way. He goes to fix a critical system on the ship and gets locked inside. Did he do this accidentally? If so, there's really no character growth for him. Did he do it intentionally, as a noble sacrifice? Then why doesn't the episode make this more clear to celebrate his character growth?

• The Klingon N'Garen is played by Gabrielle Union, in one of her earliest roles, and years before the movies 10 Things I Hate About You and Bring It On.

This episode serves its role in the larger arc by getting Ziyal back onto the station. Beyond that, it's fairly disposable. I give "Sons and Daughters" a C+.

Re-Frozen

I missed the chance to see Frozen II when it was in theaters a few months ago. Now, of course, nothing is in theaters. But it can be streamed, and enjoying the original Frozen as much as I did, I certainly wanted to check it out.

Frozen II picks up the story of Anna and Elsa a few years later, with the kingdom of Arendelle threatened by elemental spirits from beyond a mysterious fog. The whole gang from the first film heads out on a quest to save the day, pursuing a mysterious voice only Elsa can hear.

This is a fine movie, though it does suffer a bit in comparison: Frozen is a tough act to follow. The sequel is much better than a pure cash grab (though to a studio executive, that's surely all it is), but it's missing the extra spark that made the first movie so special.

For the first half, in fact, it feels to be rather explicitly walking the original Frozen's path. The plot being set up is new and interesting, but the songs all seem to map one-to-one to the beloved music from the original. We're talking more than just adherence to the "Disney formula" of opening with a group number, leading into the heroine's "I want" number, and so forth. That group number feels like it's chasing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?"; Olaf's new song is cast from the same mold that forged "In Summer"; and despite a change to 12/8 time from 4/4, Elsa's "Into the Unknown" is definitely a redux of "Let It Go" (though, admittedly, one that'll set up residence in your brain almost as effectively).

Fortunately, as the film rounds the corner into the second half, song writers Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez are able to explore more truly new material. The character of Kristoff gets a full, real song that gives actor Jonathan Groff more to do than sing 50 seconds of fluff to a reindeer. Elsa has a second song, "Show Yourself," that feels quite different from anything else in either film. Anna gets a rousing solo number -- and while we all knew from the first movie that Kristen Bell can sing, this finally gives her the stage all to herself.

The visuals get more bold and artistic in the second half of the movie, too. In the first Frozen, "Let It Go" was the moment that really pulled out all the stops, with wild imagery accompanying the empowerment anthem. Every song in the back half of Frozen II feels similarly inspired visually, really using the advantage of animation: if you can imagine it, you can depict it.

Though as the storytelling technique improves as the movie unfolds, the story itself grows rather rote and predictable. After dutifully walking the audience through a gallery of Chekhov's Guns and pointing them all out, the back half of the movie is a second trip through that gallery to fire them all. It's nice, I suppose, that everything pays off -- though it's rather rigid in how it does so.

Still, it's a fun movie overall... and very much with the right focus: again on the sisters Anna and Elsa and their relationship. It's still a quite enjoyable B, even if it can't step out of the shadow of its predecessor.

DS9 Flashback: Rocks and Shoals

After launching a story arc in its sixth season premiere, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine served up the strongest episode in that arc with "Rocks and Shoals."

Sisko and his crew are stranded on a planet with no communications and few supplies, and outnumbered by a group of Jem'Hadar. But these Jem'Hadar are in an equally dire situation: they too are marooned, their Vorta is critically injured, and their supply of ketracel-white is dangerously low. There is a way out... but not for everyone on both sides. Meanwhile, aboard Terok Nor, Kira is snapped from her new routine when a Vedek makes her realize that she has become a collaborator with an evil occupying force.

The Dominion War was a chance for Deep Space Nine to present Star Trek's take on some of the classic stories of the war movie genre. This episode is the "victory that doesn't feel like victory," and packs the biggest emotional punch of the story arc. For this to work, we have to feel the needless sacrifice of the Jem'Hadar soldiers at the climax of the episode. And so the episode devotes a lot of time to these enemy soldiers: it builds Remata'Klan up as a soldier of unwavering honor, introduces the deceit of the Vorta Keevan well before he meets any of our heroes, and shows the effects of white withdraw on the Jem'Hadar.

But of course, we spend plenty of time with our main characters too. We see the gallows humor they use to get through hard times -- O'Brien complaining of his ripped pants, and Sisko and Dax talking about her injury as though it's a stay in a fancy hotel. There's other lived history between the characters too, particularly involving Nog, who swaps curses with O'Brien (acceptable 90s television curses, anyway), and tells Garak he doesn't trust him after recent events.

It's when these two separate groups collide that the real dramatic sparks fly. Keevan, in a wonderfully smarmy performance by actor Christopher Shea, is eager to sell out his troops to save his own life. Sisko is loathe to work with such a snake, but he will do whatever he can to protect his people. Still, he tries every angle to try to convince Remata'Klan, played with perfect nobility and loyalty by Phil Morris, to give up the fight. In the end, no one but Keevan is happy with the way things end... but everyone being who they are to a fault, it's the only way things could end.

Extensive filming on location enhances the impact of the episode. There are occasional visual effects (the stolen Jem'Hadar ship sinking in the ocean, Jem'Hadar looking over a treacherous cliff at raging water below), but it's mostly all natural, and shot in uncommon ways for Star Trek: a long telephoto lens for the fire fights and the hostage exchange, "dirty singles" (closeups in which part of another character is visible) just before the final confrontation, and more.

Getting this footage proved to be a real challenge for the production. This episode was actually filmed after the one that aired next, to accommodate going on location -- but then the timing turned out to be terrible. After a week of mild weather before the filming, there were record temperatures peaking at 128° during parts of the shoot. Jem'Hadar makeup was melting into actors' eyes (you can see the redness in some shots), and heavy costumes put actors in constant danger of heat stroke. Filming slowed so much that an intended final scene, with Worf coming to the rescue after O'Brien sends a distress signal, was never shot. The producers were reportedly quite upset -- until director Michael Vejar and editor Steve Tucker insisted that ending the episode on an exchange of looks between Keevan and Sisko was stronger anyway. (And they were surely right.)

All that already makes for one of the most impactful episodes of Deep Space Nine in some time. But then it's paired with an even more potent story aboard the station. Kira realizing that she's become the very thing she hated all her life, a collaborator, would be a strong story regardless. But the way it's told makes it stronger still, the most impactful moments playing out with little or no dialogue. We see two versions of Kira's daily routine, one in which she's blind to what she's come to accept as normal, and a second in which she's disgusted by every moment of it. And between these, the suicide protest of Vedek Yassim also plays without dialogue, and using another rare filming technique for Star Trek: slow motion.

When there is dialogue in this story line, though, it's quite effective. In one scene, Jake is the probing reporter with difficult questions that Kira doesn't want to answer. In another, Yassim (played memorably by Lilyan Chauvin) paints the Dominion in stark terms, and is in disbelief that Kira doesn't see it the same way. At the end of the story, when Kira stands in the spot where Yassim killed herself, Nana Visitor delivers a powerful monologue revealing the depths of her character's self-loathing. We've seen Visitor cry and rage before to convey a depth of feeling; this moment is yet another gear, chilling in its restraint.

Other observations:

• Dax is injured in the episode's teaser (in a flashy stunt), but goes on to have an important role in the story despite being sidelined in a sick bed. The plot was constructed this way to accommodate for Terry Ferrell's extreme sensitivity to sunlight, which had been a problem for location filming in the previous season. (And with the temperatures being what they were, it's a good thing!)

• This really is Ronald D. Moore's finest script for the series. I've praised the plot and many key scenes, but there's plenty of sharp dialogue and character even in the little moments: the Jem'Hadar wanting to see a Vorta cut open, Keevan's wry joke about Starfleet engineers who can "turn rocks into replicators," and Garak's observation that only humans shackle their conduct with "rules in war."

• Actor Phil Morris (perhaps best known as lawyer Jackie Chiles on Seinfeld), had previously played a Klingon on Deep Space Nine. He had a great take on the difference in playing a Jem'Hadar here. Klingons are "macho. They talk about how bad they are. But the Jem'Hadar are the baddest boys in the bar, so they don't need to talk about it."

"Rocks and Shoals" doesn't necessarily make a lot of "best of the series" lists. But I remembered it fondly, and watching it again did nothing to blunt my enthusiasm. It's a top notch, grade A episode of Deep Space Nine.

Waterlogged

I endured Batman v Superman and Justice League under the notion that they were valuable backstory to watching Aquaman. And I'd heard that while Aquaman wasn't as good as Wonder Woman, it was surprisingly worthwhile. I wish now that I could remember where I'd heard that so I could smack those people. (Using a six-foot pole, of course.) I wish I could go back in time and give myself a dire warning. (Though perhaps that wouldn't be the top priority if I could actually go back in time.)

Point being: Aquaman is beyond terrible. The modern DC film franchise has served up quite a few bad films, but in my mind it's not even really a competition: Aquaman is far and away the worst. It resides comfortably in the valley of badness, not even able to muster the courtesy of being "so bad, it's good." Or maybe I'm just cranky over any time I wasted watching subpar movies at home, back in the days when we could all safely go out in public.

The DC superhero films have spent a lot of time, money, and effort trying to replicate the Marvel Cinematic Universe -- all the while showing a clear lack of understanding of why the MCU has been successful. Aquaman is the pinnacle of this; of all the MCU films you could choose to copy, why would you ever choose the first Thor?

Just like Thor, Aquaman is a very bright, colorful and epic feast for the eyes -- though with CG that almost always looks fake. It stars an extremely charismatic actor working with a character written in his first film to be brooding and anti-charismatic. The plot revolves around one brother on a reluctant quest to claim his royal birthright, coming into conflict with another brother with great skill in politics and deception.

What Aquaman isn't stealing outright from Thor, it's stealing from 300. It feels like every other shot is a needlessly spinning camera circling through an unconvincingly green-screened environment. Copious speed ramping is used in an attempt to inject energy into unexciting action sequences. And everyone screams straight into the camera before charging into battle. There is so. Much. Screaming.

There's no sense of stakes or danger at any point in the story, as Arthur/Aquaman is battered so thoroughly and takes so much physical abuse that the fact he gets up and walks away renders it all meaningless. (And it's DC, of course, so there's tons of incidental property damage too. Lots of pixels are damaged in the making of this movie.)

There is perhaps the potential for one genuine surprise in the story, but the movie bungles that too, thanks to casting. You don't get Nicole Kidman to be in your movie for a single four-minute sequence (in which she's noticeably "de-aged"); two hours turns out to be an interminable wait for her inevitable return. But then, Kidman's appearance in this movie is arguably less confounding than that of Willem Dafoe and Patrick Wilson, both of whom have done the superhero thing before and thus don't need to cross that off the list by appearing here.

I have seen worse movies in my time. And I did actually finish this one, amazingly enough. So I guess I'd say Aquaman is a D-? Maybe? There's probably no point in quibbling over degrees of "wow, was that bad." Poor Jason Momoa deserved better. As did we all.

Looking in on the Outsider

Whenever Stephen King publishes a new book, you can rest assured that an adaptation of some kind will follow. Since I'm not deeply into King, I don't necessarily know what his new books are about -- though I find out a couple of years later when they're repurposed as movies or what-not. Most recently, this happened with the HBO mini-series The Outsider.

An upstanding citizen and family man is arrested for the unspeakably brutal murder of a young boy. The evidence against Terry Maitland seems definitive: he has been identified by multiple witnesses, captured on video, and his fingerprints are all over the crime scene. But Maitland maintains his innocence... and he's soon backed up when evidence emerges to place him out of town and miles away at the time of the murder: multiple witnesses, video recordings, and even fingerprint evidence. Detective Ralph Anderson is at a loss to explain how one man was seemingly in two places at once. When the case takes a shocking turn, his police department looks to private investigator Holly Gibney for help.

The Outsider is a real slow burn of a tale. As a mini-series, it's spread out across 10 episodes, and the full reveal of the "two places at once" nature of the crime doesn't come until quite late in the first episode. Under most circumstances, I'd treat that as a spoiler and dance delicately around it. But without that twist, it's simply impossible to give any sense of what The Outsider is that might possibly compel someone's interest. "Well, it's a story about the murder of a child." If anything, that alone would strike me as more off-putting than tantalizing.

But The Outsider works as a slow burn, because it's almost not even about the case. It does go on to have many of the Stephen King trappings of the supernatural. You might even say it cribs heavily from his older novel It -- though to point out exactly how here might spoil some of the fun. But I found the characters here to be particular well drawn in comparison. Maybe that's decades of King's writing experience showing through. Maybe it's a triumph of the HBO adaptation. Either way, I found it one of the most compelling reasons to watch the show.

Every episode of the mini-series is peppered with sharp scenes of two characters interacting with each other. Sometimes a scene is about their similarities; other times about their differences. Sometimes the characters are in lockstep; other times they're challenging each other. Each feels like a perfect little study you could imagine acting students lifting for a class project, filled with nuance and freighted with meaning.

The scenes probably wouldn't be as good in the hands of other actors, though. Ben Mendelsohn stars as detective Anderson, a character who tries to keep many of his thoughts and feelings internal (but who often fails). Jason Bateman is the accused, Terry Maitland, flipping the switch between sympathetic and creepy as different scenes call for it. The cast goes on and on... but stealing the scenes from all of them is Cynthia Erivo as private detective Holly Gibney. She's a fastidious, socially awkward character, the sort of person often exaggerated for laughs on other shows. Erivo makes the character much more grounded and believable.

There are several fun twists and turns throughout the 10 episodes, including a particularly shocking turn in the second episode that surprised me and immediately got me on board for the entire run. I'm also pleased to say that the ending, as Stephen King endings go in my experience, is not half-bad. For certain, the ascent of this ride is more exciting than the conclusion, but the whole of it is worthwhile.

The Outsider wrapped up its run just before the current season of Westworld began, so the whole of is now there to be watched. I'd give it a B+. The pace is deliberate, and the heavy atmosphere oppressive at times -- I wouldn't see it as a "binge watch" show. But I think it's a show worth watching.

DS9 Flashback: A Time to Stand

Season six of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine began with a serialized story arc that was years ahead of its time for television. Reportedly conceived to be four episodes, then expanded to five and then six, it took advantage of all the recurring characters that had been created by not "boldly going" to new planets every week like the other Trek series. The first episode in the arc was "A Time to Stand."

Three months into the Dominion War, the Federation is losing ground and losing ships. Sisko and his crew are given a secret mission to try to turn the tide: taking a captured Jem'Hadar ship and destroying a ketracel-white depot. Meanwhile, on the Cardassian occupied station (rechristened Terok Nor), Kira worries the Bajorans are losing their voice... and sees Odo as a way of pushing the issue with Weyoun.

This six-episode arc is always mentioned as the moment the series embraced serialization. But this episode illustrates just how much it was already doing so, in smaller ways, before this. The Jem'Hadar ship our heroes use on their mission is the one they themselves captured in the previous season. Garak's closeted flirtation with Bashir, there since the Cardassian's first appearance, is on display in an early scene. Kira points out how much Dukat's behavior in this occupation is driven by the way he feels he was mistreated and misunderstood in the last one. We also get a return appearance from Captain Sisko's father Joseph, played by Brock Peters -- again showing one of the few healthy father/son relationships in all of Star Trek (with Ben and Jake being one of the others).

The Starfleet side of the episode is where the more self-contained plot is -- and certainly all the action. But while it's arguably more like conventional Star Trek, it contains many great moments. There's the exhausted banter between soldiers in the trenches. There's the moral dilemma of firing on a friendly ship (and abandoning it to enemy forces) in order to maintain their cover. And in the final scene, when they're actually trying to pull off their daring plan, the suspense really does work -- they do a great job of setting up how it should go, so that we know immediately when things start to go wrong.

Still, in this re-watch, I found myself more intrigued what was going on aboard the station. Kira understands the hit-and-run tactics of a resistance fighter very well, but here she must learn to be a more subtle and political actor. She identifies the friction between Weyoun and Dukat, and does her best to fan those flames where she can. She realizes that Odo has pull with Weyoun and uses her own pull with Odo to get him to use it. Through it all, though, Kira is still Kira, and can only sublimate her nature so much. She can't help but call Dukat on his delusions when he tries to get her to praise him.

Life under Dominion rule is interesting, from a number of angles. Quark, the voice of the frog slowly boiling to death, argues that it's not as bad as it could be. (Though he isn't wrong.) Jake naively assumes that freedoms he has enjoyed all his life are universal. Even the Cardassians, ostensibly allies of the Dominion, are shown to be under their thumb -- when Damar looks to Dukat as his leader, Weyoun is quick to assert his authority. Weyoun is quicker still when Odo confronts him, twisting the deference he must show a changeling into a subtle extortion of something he needs: the appearance of Odo's endorsement.

Other observations:

• The opening shot, showing a defeated fleet of damaged ships, is quite impressive. It was apparently an explicit repudiation of the final shot in the previous season finale. (The writers felt that shot had gone too far in implying a huge armada immediately ready to kick ass, which is not where they intended to take the story.) Reportedly, this shot was one of the last big armada shots to be achieved largely with old school model work. After this, most of the visuals would be created as the Defiant was here -- through CG.

• The references of Dax and Worf's planned wedding were inserted here by the writers in the hopes of reminding the audience that there would still be things worth watching on the show, even after the war arc was concluded.

• Dukat's Cardassian style log entry is a fun subversion of a Star Trek trope. Elsewhere, his assertion that he's "made Cardassia strong again," along with his desperate need to be liked and his constant focus on who's in charge -- well... it all feels prescient.

• This marks the first appearance by the character of Admiral Ross. The writers had apparently long wanted a recurring admiral character, but had never found an actor they liked enough to keep bringing back. Finally, they found what they were looking for in Barry Jenner.

• Joseph Sisko makes an observation that's almost hokey, yet earnest and poetic enough to work: if space is wondrous and infinite, "you would think there'd be more than enough room to allow people to leave each other alone."

This strong season premiere sets the table for a strong story arc. I give "A Time to Stand" an A-.