A Mild Winter

Personally, I'm feeling like the theme of zombies is played out for now. But they were much more in fashion in 2014, when the board game Dead of Winter was first released. It was well-received, and rose to the Top 100 on Board Game Geek (only recently falling out, finally supplanted by the steady release of new games). I did recently get to try the game and see what the buzz was about.

Dead of Winter is a mostly cooperative game in which the players try to defend a makeshift compound in a wintery apocalypse. Resources are scarce and must be scavenged. The helpless population of the compound must be protected. And beyond mere survival, each player has their own secret secondary goal they must achieve for their own personal victory: a drug addict must keep meds on hand for themselves while protecting the colony, a hoarder must keep a secret food stash while still making sure the colony doesn't starve, and so forth.

These secret roles intersect with another element of the game, a possibility that one of the characters is a traitor working toward the downfall of the colony. You can band together to banish from the colony any traitor you suspect, but the group's chances of survival go down if you eject someone who was really on your side (and just acting suspiciously for reasons of their hidden personal goal). And any banished player is still part of the game, with an updated victory condition reflecting their need to survive alone.

I surmise that this game was a hit because it's dripping with flavor, and lots of people responded favorably to this. There are dozens of characters to play, and each player starts with two: all archetypes from zombie stories (or inspired riffs on them). There's also a neat mechanic that gives the game its subtitle, "A Crossroads Game." During each player's turn, the player next to them draws a special Crossroads card, which describes a particular event trigger to watch out for during the turn. If the player does the thing described, the Crossroads card springs into action, forcing the player to make a particular choice before the rest of the game proceeds. It's a fun way of injecting twists and narrative into the game.

But the game also just doesn't feel particularly polished in playtesting. There's a massive gap in quality between all the characters; they each embrace flavor to such a degree that some are great and some are nearly useless. I suppose this is why each player gets two to start, in the hopes that every player will get at least one that's fun. That still won't always work out.

There's also a completely useless "Leader" mechanic described in the rules. Each player must designate one of their characters to be the Leader of their little survival clique within the larger group. It seems to affect only who takes the very first turn of the game, and then means absolutely nothing afterward. More than one of us scoured the rules in search of something we missed, but this seems to be a vestigial tail of something cut from the game during playtesting, or a tease toward some expansion mechanic.

With the game being so driven toward story, often at the expense of interesting gameplay, the traitor mechanic doesn't make a lot of sense to me. It's only about a ballpark 50/50 chance that any given game even has a traitor, but that possibility casts a long shadow on how people act during play. And I'm not even sure it makes all that much story sense. Yes, zombie stories often do have idiots who sell out the group -- but basically always for selfish reasons and not just because they want to watch the world burn. (Right? Am I forgetting some massive throughline in zombie stories?) The mechanic's inclusion here serves only to make you wish you were playing a better game where the traitor mechanic is more centrally featured; I'd take Battlestar Galactica over this in the "longer game length" category, for example.

Dead of Winter is more fun than other zombie games. (I'd rather play it and only it for the rest of my days than ever play Zombies!!! again once.) The Crossroads element is intriguing. But overall, this game isn't really Top 100 material in my book. I give it a B-. I'd play it again if that's what my group picked... but it wouldn't be my first choice.

Reality Bites

My blog doesn't have an enormous readership or anything. (Though a few truly random posts have drawn a disproportionate number of hits from, I can only assume, the odd Google search. I hope everyone finds what I thought of BlacKkKlansman compelling.) Still, I'll use whatever pull I do have to direct a few eyeballs toward a book published by a friend.

The Completely Unverified True Story of a Reality Television Superstar is a novel by Matt Schild about... well, the title isn't trying to mislead you. Mick Rhodes is coerced into participating in a reality TV show that reunites the cast of the show he was (in)famous for years earlier. His dust-up became the stuff of reality TV legend, completely destroyed his relationships beyond the show, and basically sent him spiraling. The novel is about whether he's really learned anything, whether he can keep true to himself once he's back in front of the cameras, and whether this new experience will destroy whatever of him is left.

The novel is written in the first person, and this is where it shines. The plot is fun, especially if you'd ever been drawn into The Amazing Race, Survivor, Road Rules, or really any other reality TV series. But if you come for that, you stay for the snark. The character of Mick has a pretty high background level of disdain for just about everyone and everything (himself included, at times). He also has a vast pop culture vocabulary. So reading the book often feels like a long, geeky, and catty conversation.

Yes, for those of you who don't know the author personally, there are healthy elements of "write what you know" here. Still, Mick Rhodes is a character, a goes-to-11 personality that Matt does develop and inhabit. He's not an altogether likable character -- though neither the character himself nor the novel as a whole expect you to receive him that way. For a story in which almost everyone is some degree of horrible, I found it to be a pretty fun and brisk read.

You can grab the ebook easily (Kindle, Nook), and I can honestly say that I would have given it the thumbs up even if I didn't know its author personally. It is more for the reader who values a clever turn of phrase over a densely-packed narrative, but it's stronger than many a "first novel" I've read. It sure would be great if Matt could find enough success with it to carve out the time to write another.

Veritas

The latest episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks offered a riff on a staple Star Trek plot, the courtroom drama.

The "lower decks" gang is made to testify about a secret mission involving the Romulan Neutral Zone -- though some of them clearly don't know as much as others. Different, hole-riddled accounts by Mariner, Rutherford, and Tendi build to a reveal about what the aliens questioning them are really after.

Whatever small quibbles I may have had with different Lower Decks episodes so far (not that many, in the grand scheme of things), one thing I've never questioned is the love of Star Trek by those writing it. That quality was center stage this week. Nothing in the episode suggests they were trying to take any of the great Trek courtroom episodes down a peg... and so they can get away with jokes about Star Trek's... shall we say... lower quality moments, like the reference to Uhura's embarrassing Star Trek V fan dance. (The early debate about the "cool factor" of Roga Danar felt so inside that it hit me almost like a joke not just on Star Trek, but on the Star Trek CCG particularly: why is this random guy from that one episode such a badass?)

Certainly, the format this week allowed for a lot of references to be made. Like last week's episode, this Lower Decks was a break from the format in terms of how it grouped the characters. This time, the core four were all together, with flashbacks utilized to isolate them in their own subplots. Rutherford's disjointed flashback, interrupted by "reboots," was just a fun vehicle for almost improv-scene one-liners. ("Your scene is... 'Gorn Wedding.'") Tendi's imperfectly redacted flashback used bleeps on top of bleeps to fun effect.

There was great guest star power this week too. Kurtwood Smith returned to Star Trek to voice the lead alien, squeezing every ounce of menace from each syllable. Plus, of course, there was the cameo by John de Lancie, returning to the role of Q for the first time in decades. And if somehow you didn't enjoy any of that? Well, there were some funny jokes about a tank of eels, too.

I think this may have been my favorite episode of Lower Decks to this point. Certainly, it made me laugh harder than any so far. Maybe the character building wasn't as strong this time out... but this many episodes in, they can probably afford to have one episode that isn't really building up characters (who by now we know). I give "Veritas" a B+.

Turning Over a New Thief

In board gaming, publisher Restoration Games has carved out a particular niche: they secure the rights to classic games of decades past, update them for the modern audience, and re-release them. Their upcoming update of Dark Tower is one that several people I know have their eye on. But recently, I got to play one of their previous releases, Stop Thief!

I actually wasn't aware of the original game on which this was based, but I was all set to write about how derivative I felt the game was of a more widely known game called Scotland Yard... until some quick research showed me that the first Stop Thief (no exclamation point) was released four years before Scotland Yard.

In its new incarnation, Stop Thief! pits the players collectively against a burglar controlled by a smartphone app. The villain moves around invisibly on a game board, making footsteps inside or outside, smashing windows, and stealing items. Each of these actions makes its own distinct sound, and the players deduce from the sounds of multiple consecutive moves where on the board the thief is currently located. Their job, to find that thief a specific number of times before it can steal all the money remaining in your bank.

The gadgetry here is somewhat appealing, though it must have been more impressive in 1979; the original game came with an electronic device that made the sounds and allowed players to input search coordinates. The game that came later, Scotland Yard, was essentially the same thing minus the gadget, plus the idea to cast a player as the criminal in a "1 vs. many" game format. Both games scratch pretty much the same itch, so even though I'd never played Stop Thief, Stop Thief! had a warm nostalgic feeling to it.

But, as with some entertainment from one's youth, it's not as good as you remember. Stop Thief! is arguably not so much a board game as a puzzle. The more players you have, all tracking the different possible locations where the burglar could be hiding on the board, the more "solvable" that puzzle is. Everyone gets the cooperative thrill of winning together, but at the co-op game risk of not everyone really contributing to the process. There are a couple of decisions to be made at least, thanks to a card-based movement system that gives each player a special ability, and asks you to balance big movement turns with little ones. Still, if you're used to more intricate cooperative games (like, say, Pandemic), Stop Thief! feels pretty limited by comparison.

There is a competitive option for the game that I'd be willing to try -- there's still one thief to track, and the information about where he's hiding is (mostly) public knowledge, but players get credit for tracking and capturing him individually. There might be more interest in that... or you might feel more at the whim of randomness when the thief moves toward an opponent and away from you. Hard to say without trying it.

Either way, Stop Thief! isn't a bad experience. It just shows the signs of being 40 years outdated by board gaming innovation, even if work was done here to spruce it up. Fans of the original, or of Scotland Yard, might enjoy (re)visiting it. Other gamers likely won't be so enamored. I'd give it a perhaps charitable B-.

DS9 Flashback: Treachery, Faith and the Great River

Before the end of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, show runner Ira Steven Behr was determined to have an episode pairing Odo and Weyoun. The result was "Treachery, Faith and the Great River." (Their choice to omit the serial comma, not mine.)

Weyoun arranges contact with Odo, and arrives with a stunning announcement: he intends to defect from the Dominion. And while that does prove to be true despite Odo's initial doubts, there are secrets the Vorta is hiding. Meanwhile, at the station, Chief O'Brien needs a part to repair the Defiant, and Nog brings his Ferengi world view to bear on the problem, arranging an elaborate series of trades.

This story was first pitched as Weyoun deceiving Sisko into destroying a lab where he claimed a new, more dangerous replacement for the Jem'Hadar were being developed. (In the end, it turned out that the replacements were actually for the Vorta, and Weyoun was scheming to save his own skin.) With a couple of tweaks, though, this became the Weyoun/Odo story that Behr was looking for.

It's easy to see why he wanted it. Rene Auberjonois and Jeffrey Combs are both phenomenal at their characters, and very thoughtful actors. Pairing them together could hardly go wrong. And indeed, this story line runs quite an emotional gamut, even though nearly all of their interactions take place on one set: the runabout cockpit. Weyoun earns Odo's trust, conveys his awe, tells a great fable about the origins of the Vorta, and ultimately makes a sacrifice you actually do care about. At the same time, Odo is hit with the shocking revelation of the sickness among his people, a major plot point for the remainder of the series. Odo has gone from fearing he was alone in the universe, to finding his people and rejecting them, to now facing the possibility that soon he might indeed be alone in the universe. Both of them bond over knowing what it is like to turn their backs on their people. Combs and Auberjonois are great through it all.

Jeffrey Combs has the added challenge of having to play two versions of Weyoun in this episode, and making each be a distinct version of the same character. Weyoun 6 is more different from what Combs has been playing on the show, and I've already noted the high points. But Weyoun 7 is notable for being dragged into deception by Damar -- he lies by omission to Jem'Hadar and to a Founder (!), and is spinning quite the web of lies to himself to justify it. Plus, he's on his guard the entire time he's doing it, suspecting Damar of having assassinated his predecessor. This second performance is interesting too.

If that's all that was going on in this episode, it might well be one of my favorites of the series. But there's a B plot here that gets nearly as much weight as the A plot. It's not that it's bad; it isn't. It's not that the lighter tone clashes; this episode juggles the comedy and the drama better than many past episode have managed. There's even some resonance between the two stories, both ultimately dealing with issues of religion and spirituality.

No, my issue is that we've basically seen this story. Twice. Jake and Nog have twice gone on bartering adventures, in season one's "Progress" and season five's "In the Cards." For me, "not bad" is not enough for a third trip through largely the same material. Bringing in O'Brien instead of Jake isn't enough of a change -- particularly when O'Brien is made to look so foolish in the process. (At some point, does he not consider changing the authorization code he gave to Nog?)

It is a strong Nog episode, though, with him coming off far more confident than in those two previous episodes. He's working all the angles, including working O'Brien himself, to get the job done. He even drums up some business for his cousin at the same time! (And he has a great response when O'Brien warns him "don't do anything I wouldn't do," countering "I can't operate under those restrictions.")

Other observations:

• The massages would seem to be a huge up side to a romantic relationship with a changeling.

• The idea of someone wanting pictures behind famous captains' desks is fun, as are the mentions of Captains DeSoto and Picard. Somewhere in the Star Trek universe, there's a Star Trek fan!

• ...and a Star Wars fan? Nog's decription of the Great Material Continuum as a force that binds the universe together does feel like an Obi-Wan Kenobi / Yoda speech for just a moment or two.

• Jeffrey Combs has a brief but great little bit of business, as Weyoun tries to use chopsticks to eat a slice of pizza.

• In the final two seasons, the visuals continue to stun. This time, the comets of the Kuiper Belt, and the battle weaving through them, are a feast for the eyes.
  

• Wouldn't it be great if more people of faith were like Kira? She has actual proof that her gods are actually real, yet she still has respect for the other religious beliefs of a people she's actually at war with.
  

I almost want to say this is an A- episode. But the re-recycled Nog story line, however well done, knocks it down just a bit to a B+ for me. Still, this is a big episode both for good performances and for the final story arc of the series.

Well... Schitt's

Schitt's Creek swept the Emmy Awards this past weekend, winning the most Emmys for a Comedy in a single year, and sweeping all four acting categories (Actor, Actress, Supporting Actor, Supporting Actress) -- the first time any show (comedy or drama) has done so. If you've never watched it, you might be thinking to yourself: is it that good? Maybe you've even tried a few episodes and wondered: how is this what everyone is excited about?

In the modern age of television, there are so many excellent shows out there that it's hard to find time for the ones that are just "pretty good." It's harder still to find time for the excellent shows that don't start off that way -- and Schitt's Creek is firmly in this category. No one wants to hear "stick with this and then it really picks up in season two."

Squint and tilt your head, and Schitt's Creek has a lot in common with Arrested Development. Both are shows about a rich family being brought low and forced to live like "common people." In both cases, the family is horrible, a bunch of spoiled brats that are terrible to everyone around them. Arrested Development's approach to making this something you'd want to watch was to be impossibly clever every episode, with dozens of jokes a minute and an ever-expanding pool of running gags. After the original run of three seasons, the revival failed to recapture this high level of brilliant joke density, and became unwatchable as a result.

Schitt's Creek approach to making this watchable is to actually make these people change and learn from their experiences. The Rose family -- Johnny, Moira, Alexis, and David -- really do become better people over the course of the show, and it's strangely uplifting to see. And while they're on that journey, they're surrounded by a small town of recurring characters you quickly come to care for. (OK, Chris Elliott and his character, Roland Schitt, remain hard-to-take from beginning to end. But he feels to me like the one exception.)

And the show is quite funny. Other shows may generate more moments of tears-in-your-eyes laughter, but very few actually manage to tell stories you're actually engaged in this much while also making you laugh. The four actors who won those Emmys this past weekend are all brilliant: Eugene Levy, Catherine O'Hara, Dan Levy, and Annie Murphy. All of them are funny, and all of them are called upon to actually act in different episodes, in moving ways. (But if you ask me, Catherine O'Hara is the true master. You'll never be disappointed focusing on whatever she's doing in the background of a scene.)

I finished watching all of Schitt's Creek last month, and was very glad I stuck around through the rocky first season. The show grew ever more confident in what was funny, introduced a daffy continuing story line about a terrible-looking horror movie sequel, and brought in one of the most uplifting, LGBT-positive romance stories yet presented on television.

I won't lie: if I'd been an Emmy voter, I would have lavished praise on The Good Place. But I can't begrudge the love for Schitt's Creek and its cast. It was simply an "embarrassment of riches" kind of year, with more than one worthy contender. With five seasons of the show currently available on Netflix (and the final, sixth one being added soon), you should give Schitt's Creek a try. I give the series an A-.

Much Ado About Boimler

The latest episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks was among the best of the series so far. Other episodes may have generated a few more laughs, but "Much Ado About Boimler" had a solid blend of comedy and character.

When a transporter accident sends Boimler slightly out of phase, he (and Tendi, who has created a genetically modified dog) are transferred to another ship for a trip to a medical facility known as The Farm. Meanwhile, the senior staff is sent on a special mission, so an old friend of Mariner's comes to fill the captain's chair on the Cerritos -- and she wants Mariner to be her first officer.

There's an interesting and rather serious message slipped into the core of this episode like medicine in a pet treat. We've heard in many of Star Trek's incarnations that this future is one where people can follow their bliss and do what makes them happy. We even got an episode early in Lower Decks that found humor in how supportive people are of this notion. Here, we come to learn that Mariner doesn't want anything more than to be an ensign -- not right now, at least. She doesn't always need to be chasing "more" to be chasing "happiness."

It was nice to have the Lower Decks formula shaken up a bit this week, swapping around the character pairings and separating Mariner from Boimler and Tendi from Rutherford. It's going to be better for the show in the long run if other "team-ups" like this still work, and this episode was a good sign that they will.

But mostly: jokes! The ominous Division 14 ship was a buffet of them, from Star Trek references like Christopher Pike chairs and Voyager-style giant salamanders to no-Trek-knowledge-required gags like a strange face/torso swap and... a Slenderman? Not to mention the hilarious concept of someone simultaneously afflicted with accelerated growth and reverse aging. (Guest actor Nolan North gave a great vocal performance of the character.)

There were even more jokes in the form of Tendi's strange, creepy dog: The Dog. (And a subtle and sinister threat in the mix that they were taking this dog to The Farm.) Add in the comedic riff on the plot of "Chain of Command," bringing in a "Jellico" and sending the senior staff off on a special mission involving seeds (ooo), and I thought there was a lot of fun going on in this episode.

I give "Much Ado About Boimler" a B+. We're coming into the home stretch, with just a few more episodes to go in this 10-episode season.

On What Basis

For a while now, it's been on my movie to-do list to watch On the Basis of Sex, the biopic about Ruth Bader Ginsburg. For obvious reasons, watching it bubbled up to the top of the list this past weekend.

On the Basis of Sex is not a full-life biopic, narrowing the focus to a period from 1956 (RBG's first year at law school) to 1972 (when she and her husband argued a key case before the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals). It does depict the sweeping and systemic gender discrimination she fought against, and then presents a classic "long odds" narrative of the fight to strike the first blow against it.

The movie took a while to draw me in, because at first it seems so devoted to touching on the biopic movie staples. The story feels very specifically manipulated to fit a very familiar mold, and anyone who's seen even a handful of these movies can sense the manipulation. (You don't even have to know about the life of Ruth Bader Ginsburg to feel the moves coming.)

Even though the movie never really stops following the underdog formula, though, at some point I turned the corner and simply enjoyed the familiar ride. Somewhere around the halfway point, the movie really does begin to communicate the skill and power of its subject. It makes a compelling character of Ginsburg's daughter Jane as well. And it begins knocking down the dominoes it has set up in very satisfying way.

The final act, the big oral argument day at the Tenth Circuit, is everything you want one of these movies to be: a defiant speak truth to power moment, an underdog rises to the challenge and triumphs moment, a good wins in the end moment. It makes you want to stand up and cheer. It's inspirational and aspirational. In short, for me, it more than made up for any shortcomings earlier on in the film.

Felicity Jones stars as Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and gives a marvelous performance. From the technical aspects like RBG's distinct way of speaking to the complicated emotional moments that combine more than one feeling, Jones is at her best here. And the cast around her is solid too. Young Cailee Spaeny is great as Jane Ginsburg, and Armie Hammer puts the "supporting" into Supporting Actor. Popping in and out of the movie are fun character turns from Justin Theroux, Kathy Bates, Sam Waterston, and Stephen Root.

All told, I've give the movie a B+. I admit, it's possible I might not have thought as highly of it if I'd watched it just one week earlier. But I really do think it delivers in the end. And in particular, it delivers just what I know I for one am looking for right now.

Notorious

So, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

I'm not going to pretend that since last night, I haven't felt the same soul-rattling despair that I've seen expressed all over my social media feed. The news of RBG's death is terrifying. And there's a sick, additional horror in the fact that fear is anyone's natural first response, rather than celebrating the life's work of this revolutionary, towering woman.

But here's the deal: Trump is on a course to lose. The polls on this have been saying so for months. They've been steadier in saying this than ever in the modern history of U.S. elections and polling.

Yes, the results of 2016 have left everyone wary, but come on: "don't believe what you're seeing and hearing" has been the mantra of those in power for nearly four years now. Yes, there's a segment of the population (a voting segment) that have bought that line. But don't let yourself accept it too. I almost didn't want to post this, for fear of eating my own words later. But that's exactly what they want, for their considerable opposition to sit down in hopelessness and shut up. But I am not crazy. You are not crazy.

You are not the only one who knows that things need to change, that we can't carry on stuck in our homes, being pointed at people to blame and fear, and letting the preposterously wealthy continue to siphon away the little we have. If you and everyone else who knows this votes accordingly, the outcome is assured. The only chance they have at winning is if everyone is too demoralized to fight.

Believe what they do, not what they say. They know they're going to lose. And that is why they're going to try to force through a new Supreme Court nomination as fast as they can. Of course they are. They are nightmare renters, trashing every appliance, smashing every window, and removing every fixture before we evict them. (Which is poetic, given how little they care about actual people facing actual eviction in these times.)

Don't waste your time trying to shame anyone by pointing out the hypocrisy of how Merrick Garland was treated in 2016. What in the last four years has possibly led you to believe these people are capable of feeling shame? That they care about looking like hypocrites? That they're interested in anything but the accumulation of power? They're going to keep behaving reprehensibly until the end.

Recognize the truth. Recognize what confidence looks like. Mitch McConnell and his Republicans stonewalled a Supreme Court nomination for the better part of a year because they were confident they would not be penalized for it. Now they're going to rush this through because they have absolutely no confidence. They're on the brink of defeat. If they had any confidence, they wouldn't have to rush. Cowards cannot take the high ground, and the weak cannot hold it.

So, prove them right.

Phone bank if you're willing. Donate if you're able. Have that uncomfortable conversation with a family member who "just doesn't think they're going to bother." And above all: VOTE. Prove to those currently in power that they're right, by delivering to them the defeat they're expecting. And since politics is now a sport -- every bit as motivated by rooting for your team as anything currently being played to an empty stadium -- invite everyone you know to get behind the winning team.

Yes, this latest blow hurts. Keep fighting. It is what Ruth Bader Ginsburg would do.

Well, This Is Awkward

I love a good deduction game, and I'm willing to try a new one pretty much any time in the hopes of finding another for the rotation. But it's a tough genre to design a good game for, I think, as I've tried a lot of disappointing games along the way. The latest (for me; it was published a few years ago) is Awkward Guests.

Like another game you've probably heard of, Awkward Guests is a murder mystery in which you're investigating a murder inside a mansion, using cards to gather (and conceal) information. You must figure out which suspect committed the murder they used, what weapon they used, and what their motive for the crime was.

Yes, Awkward Guests knows you've played Clue before, and wants you to think of it as "Super Clue" as it piles on the wrinkles. There are more than a dozen weapons, each that leaves signs of use you can use as reason to eliminate them. The weapons are picked up by the killer in specific rooms of the house, and you can gather evidence to actually trace the killer's route to the crime scene, zeroing in on which weapon was used by what access was possible. At advanced difficulties, there may even be an accomplice to the murder you must also identify, who has their own motive for aiding the perpetrator.

Making all this possible is a large deck of numbered cards and a smartphone app. The app generates a mystery for you, then tells you which cards comprise the deck that players will use to find the solution. This requires a lot of setup and tear down before and after the game, sorting and separating cards for your particular scenario. It's tedious... but would be worth it for a compelling game.

Unfortunately, Awkward Guests layers on the complexity without actually making the process of deduction any more interesting than Clue. Pathways between rooms are just one more thing for you to track and cross off; eliminating them doesn't really tell you as much as you might think, as there are multiple ways to move around the mansion. Each suspect's three possible motives for murder have their own three corroborating bits of evidence you track too; except that the rules explicitly state that the presence of evidence is not a guarantee of the answer. (Indeed, when I played, I found 2 out of 3 possible pieces of evidence in support of one motive... only to later receive concrete information that this was not the motive. I feel like something can't be right here in the way we played, but it seems as though tracking this information is actually useless in the game.)

There is an interesting idea -- in principle -- for getting at information here. Each card in a player's hand has a point value from 1 to 3, and one or more "tags" noting which suspect or room the evidence pertains to. ("The serving staff says Suspect A was seen leaving the Library.") On your turn, you name two tags you'd like to learn about, and then every opponent offers you a bid of the total number of points in cards they're willing to trade you on those subjects. You can accept as many offers as you like, so long as you match their point value with cards from your own hand, and you make all your trades before looking at any new cards you're receiving.

It sounds like a neat way of getting at what you want to know, and controlling what you expose to which opponent. There's even a little memory subgame here; if you can remember which cards an opponent gave you, you can give them right back later (revealing no new information) if an opponent asks you later and forgets the tags on cards they passed you. In practice, though, it's barely controlled chaos, with cards changing hands multiple times throughout a round and a lot of information quickly becoming useless. It seems to mostly come down to luck who will receive a new card (when they're periodically dealt from the deck) to bust the case wide open.

The game simply took far too long and was too slow-paced. It scaled new heights in tedious note-taking and not in deductive reasoning. And half the table was profoundly relieved to be done playing when someone finally came up with the solution -- after several attempts had tried and failed. (Since you're using an app, you don't have to be eliminated when you get it wrong; you don't get to see the answer.)

Even if the game plays better with fewer players (certainly, the prospect of a deductive game you could actually play with 2 sounds tantalizing), this game just didn't make a good enough impression for me to want to try. At best, I'd say Awkward Guests gets a C-. And it should probably lose another mark or two for the handful of frankly rather racist caricatures in the art. (The game seems to be riffing on a few long-running mystery character archetypes... but this was 2016, people. Sheesh.)

Deduction game fans, look elsewhere for your next fix.

DS9 Flashback: Chrysalis

Knowing rather early on in season seven of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine that it would it would be the final season, the writers set out to revisit past characters they had enjoyed in previous episodes. While they'd only appeared in one episode, the "Jack Pack" -- the genetically enhanced and socially awkward quartet -- was high on the list. The result was "Chrysalis."

When Bashir suggests that he may be near a breakthrough that could release Sarina from her catatonic state, her friends Jack, Patrick, and Lauren impulsively bring her to Deep Space Nine for a surgical procedure. Though it's successful, a normal life for Sarina is a daunting prospect. Complicating matters, Bashir is developing feelings for her.

Early attempts at a new "Jack Pack" story flopped in the planning, until the writers decided to center the script more on Sarina rather than Jack himself. They followed a story avenue only made possible because in the previous episode to feature Sarina, a scene had been cut that actually did have her speak. If actress Faith C. Salie had been disappointed at that result, she got a nice apology in the form of this far more substantial role. (Though reportedly, the production did ask her to come back in and read for her old part to confirm she'd be up for the challenge.)

Not only was she up for it, she's actually quite good in the episode. Her early vocalizations as Sarina literally finds her voice are convincing without seeming like a tasteless parody, she has good chemistry with Alexander Siddig as Bashir (even though, quite explicitly, her character is not reciprocating his romantic feelings), and she's quite nimble with all the "super-genius" technobabble.

She's also thrown the challenge of being the star singer in an a cappella quartet. It's kind of a make-or-break sequence for the episode, and I'm sorry to say that for me personally, it doesn't quite work. (But not because of Salie's performance.) A musical number is just such a curve ball for this show, and though it's given so much time and space, it still doesn't feel like enough to plausibly transform Sarina from tone-deaf "infant" to accomplished soprano. (The actual tone-deafness, say those involved, was actor Tim Ransom as Jack, who couldn't carry a tune. He ultimately was dubbed by another singer, and you can totally tell it's not his voice.)

I think what doesn't quite work for me is that the episode also transforms into a romance in that scene -- and a fairly uncomfortable one at that. O'Brien raises the specter of the medical/ethical conflict in Bashir pursuing Sarina, but no one really points out the "age" difference between them, what with Sarina being a guileless, newborn person wholly unequipped to navigate a relationship. And while the episode does try to bridge the gap by making Sarina intelligent and wise and observant, I can't help but feel something awkward and inappropriate is going on here. At least in the end, Bashir respects Sarina's wishes and lets her go despite his feelings. (In a fairly recent interview, Faith Salie said she thought this episode had a strong message that today we'd recognize as MeToo affirming: Sarina "was not required to reciprocate his affection, just because a) he wanted her, and b) she owed him.")

The episode may have started out in search of a way to bring back the Jack Pack, but the other three characters really have to settle for just one or two good, small moments. Patrick's are the most fun, as he pompously adopts the role of a Starfleet Admiral (convincingly enough to make Nog quite nervous). Jack gets a little run of comedy in worrying about the eventual death of the universe. The best material for Lauren (who actually gets to stand up this episode) is not the endless flirtation, but the rounding out of her character -- we see how empathetic she is with Sarina before the surgery, and she's the only one of the group who seems at all happy for her after.

There are a couple of nice moments sprinkled in for the other characters too. Ezri's counseling by way of emotional beatdown may seem harsh, but it does feel like a friend telling Bashir what he needs to hear. Quark deftly diffuses a situation at the dabo wheel. And Miles gives Julian both good advice and good comfort -- even if he never does actually get to hear the words "you were right."

Other observations:

• In the first "Jack Pack" episode, there was a joke made about Bashir wanting to go "play with his friends." This episode opens with none of those friends being able to "play" -- O'Brien is with his family, and Odo and Kira have a date night.
  

• In a fun homage to Scotty, O'Brien actually says the phrase "I can't break the laws of physics."

"Chrysalis" is not bad, though not as impactful to me as "Statistical Probabilities." I give it a B-.

The Sound of Cylons

I like board games. I liked Battlestar Galactica. How is it that I'd never played Battlestar Galactica: The Board Game? I don't know that I can answer that question... but I have erased the question by now having actually played it.

Battlestar Galactica: The Board Game is a game of hidden roles and traitors. The humans are trying to find a path to Earth. The Cylons are trying to run them out of a precious resource before that happens -- exhausting their fuel, food, or water... or crushing their morale.

It's a pretty simple game in premise, but it's pretty complex in particulars. More so, perhaps, than it needs to be. But the game is faithful to its source material to a fault, and if that does add some complexity in the rules, it certainly adds resonance for anyone who watched the show. There are mechanics for hopping in a Viper to go shoot Cylon raiders outside the ship. There are a dozen characters players can portray, each with very particular details that evoke plot lines from the show. There are dozens of nods to specific moments in specific episodes.

There's also a fun (and fitting) mechanic that changes the way these traitor games are usually played. You shuffle twice as many role cards as there are players, and hand one out both at the start of the game and halfway through play. You may start out thinking you're a human, only to be awakened as a Cylon "sleeper agent" mid-game, with your victory condition suddenly upended. You may start out as a lone Cylon with no help, only to pick up an ally later on.

Just as interestingly, there's a lot more game here than you usually get in a traitor game. There's more to do here than just conceal your role; you must actually employ strategy to reach your goal. There's a game board with action spaces you make use of; you and the other players must divide and conquer to keep problems in check... assuming you can trust the other players. Even once you're outed as a traitor, the game isn't over; exposed Cylons gain access to new actions they can use against the other players to secure victory. Lying and backstabbing is only part of the equation.

On the one hand, these mechanics do indeed make the game more strategic than the average game in this genre. It might even come close to having value as a "team vs. team" game even if all the roles were somehow face up and known to everyone for most of the playthrough. On the other hand, there is a cost for this: the game takes a lot longer to play. This is not a traitor game where you play a few rounds to give everyone a shot at playing both sides, then move onto something else after an hour or so. One game of this will take you two to three hours. Probably a little too long, I think... yet not so long that I wouldn't want to play again.

I'd say Battlestar Galactica: The Board Game lands at about a B for me. It's okay that it's not an instant favorite in the genre, because it offers something different enough to carve out its own space.

Terminal Provocations

The latest Star Trek: Lower Decks repurposed two of Trek's most common plot tropes for comedic effect: the killer AI and the malfunctioning holodeck.

Mariner and Boimler must deal with a crisis when Ensign Fletcher makes a mistake worse by not owning up to it. Rutherford and Tendi get trapped on the holodeck, on the run from a killer hologram. And up on the bridge, Captain Freeman is clashing over salvage with an alien ship.

I'm not sure if putting two "killer AIs" together in the same episode was Lower Decks making a commentary on how often this sort of thing happens in Star Trek, or a more writerly exercise in making two plots run parallel. In either case, there were some fun gags in both stories, though I found the Mariner/Boimler version a bit less engaging.

The character of Fletcher was a lot to take, a sort of Reginald Barclay magnified by a huge dose of frat bro. And he was more of a plot convenience than a character, really, as he was so very put together at the start of the episode, and then so utterly not later on when the plot required that. Still, I'd rather see side characters be the screw-ups that juice the danger so the main characters can come to the rescue, and that's exactly what we got here.

The Rutherford/Tendi take on a similar idea played much funnier to me, for a variety of reasons. I loved seeing the Lower Decks take on Next Generation's biggest plot staple, the malfunctioning holodeck. I also remember "Clippy," the Microsoft Office assistant, and appreciate the comedic premise that it would be trying to kill you. Mostly, though, I just had to laugh at a killer Starfleet emblem voiced by 30 Rock's Jack McBrayer. ("Badgey's" over-the-top violence was pretty funny to me too, though I recognize that'll probably rub some fans the wrong way.)

The bridge story line was sort of one note, but that was the "C plot" of the episode, and the one note was pretty funny. To me, it seemed based on a YouTube montage of Captain Picard shooting down every suggestion Worf ever makes, as poor Shaxs wasn't allowed to actually do his job at Tactical until it was too late. A little Easter Egg in this part of the episode was that the alien captain was voiced by J.G. Hertzler, the actor who played Martok on Deep Space Nine -- and that the character had an eye patch, just like his previous character.

I give "Terminal Provocations" a B. I keep waiting for a truly outstanding episode of Lower Decks, but I suppose there is something to be said for its "better-than-average" consistency. This isn't early Next Generation, where every "The Measure of a Man" meant enduring a "Too Short a Season" (or three). I'd love to see whatever the Lower Decks version of a "Duet" is -- an episode that really announces the show is capable of greatness. But maybe getting "some form of B" every week is okay too.

DS9 Flashback: Take Me Out to the Holosuite

If you look at any given list of "the best episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" (or even the worst), you'll find broad agreement -- the order may shuffle a bit, but the fans are generally united in their tastes. But there are a handful of "love it or hate it" episodes, and none perhaps more so than "Take Me Out to the Holosuite."

A longtime rival of Sisko's, Vulcan Captain Solok, visits the station for repairs to his starship, and challenges Sisko to a competition between their crews: a holosuite baseball game. Sisko is determined to win, though his team doesn't have nearly as much talent as heart.

Some of the negative reactions to this episode may stem from its utter lack of stakes, amid a run of taut and serious episodes. Some of it may be a backlash to doing comedy in general on the more often serious Deep Space Nine. But I'd only be speculating about what people who don't like this episode think; I myself find it a lot of fun. Quirky, for sure, and not perfect -- but fun.

The production of this episode was more difficult than you might expect. It filmed a day longer than was typical for the show, with most of that time on location. (It takes lots of camera setups to cover a baseball game; more if you're trying to script what happens.) There were several stunts to capture, from common slides to Dax's "fancy Dan" flip. Makeup presented challenges -- helmets and caps big enough to accommodate Ferengi ears and Klingon foreheads, and keeping it all looking right as actors exerted themselves.

The story is straight from the underdog-sports-movie book of tropes, complete with motivational speeches and training montages. Notably, our heroes don't pull off an upset win as would often (but not always) happen in this kind of story; instead it's a story about heart and unity. It's a work team-building exercise that everyone gets invested in.

The jokes land pretty well for me, from the sight gag of using the Ops tactical table to strategize baseball, to O'Brien conjuring up Scotch-flavored gum, to Kira's amusement at seeing Odo practice his umpire calls. There's good material in baseball cliches butting up against Star Trek: playing what I assume is the Federation anthem before the game, Sisko giving Odo grief over a bad call ("What were you doing, regenerating?"), Worf's over-the-top chatter ("Death to the opposition!")

A lot of the humor revolves around Rom's ineptitude, which turns out to be a bit of meta-humor: actor Max Grodénchik was by far the most skilled player of the cast. He'd played semi-professionally in his youth before he chose acting as a career path, and ultimately plays left-handed in the episode (even though he's right-handed) in order to look "bad enough" on camera.

Someone who looks bad in an entirely different way is the character of Solok. The intent was probably that he be more playfully antagonistic as Spock was with McCoy -- and that, like Spock, he'd feel a lot more emotions than he lets on. But really, Solok is an unabashed racist, publishing academic papers on his supremacy, and going out of the way to put those he sees as lesser in their place. It's a truly ugly streak running through an otherwise light-hearted episode (and very much the antithesis of the IDIC logo on his team's baseball cap supporting "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations").

Other observations:

• There's a fair amount here for real-world baseball fans to chew on. The Siskos each have an MLB team on their practice caps. Getting Odo to ump instead of using the computer is akin to actual questions of technological assistance in monitoring a game. Odo cites the real rule number (at the time) regarding contact with an umpire. And the takeout slide used against Kira was indeed legal at the time, but is not today.
  

• The fact that most of the game is played without a crowd is so unintentionally 2020. ("Computer, replace the crowd with cardboard cut-outs?") For the couple of scenes where there is a crowd? That feels like that would have been a fun thing to say you'd been an extra for.
  

• The signed baseball we see in the final dissolve is a great bit of prop work, with fun thought put into all the characters' signatures.

The Solok rivalry on which this whole story is premised is a sour note to be sure, but mostly, "Take Me Out to the Holosuite" is a fun bit of escapism. I give it a B+.

Surpassing a Legacy

Last year, I wrote a post in praise of Pandemic Legacy: Season 1. The game hardly needs my endorsement; it's one of the most well-regarded games in the hobby, was number 1 on Board Game Geek for a very long stretch, and continues to sell tons of copies to this day. But the hype is real. I played it, loved it, and recommended it.

My same group of friends then moved on to Pandemic Legacy: Season 2. And in my view, it's even better.

Like Season 1 before it, Season 2 is a 12-scenario campaign game with a persistent story, expanding mechanics, and a raft of permanent changes you make as you go -- your choices have consequences and there's no turning back. However, unlike Season 1, well... it's unlike Season 1 in a lot of ways. Which is part of what made me love Season 2 so much. I've played quite a lot of Pandemic by now, both in its original, non-Legacy incarnation and in its different-but-not-too-different Legacy Season 1 incarnation. Season 2 felt to me like a substantially new experience.

Right out the gate, Season 2 inverts the normal mechanics of Pandemic: instead of representing spreading plagues with colored cubes and removing those as you act to contain it, you deliver supplies to locations in advance of the spreading plague to try to stop its spread before it starts. It's a subtle difference with some big strategic ramifications, and feels far more different when you're playing it than it does to hear it described.

The Legacy elements of the campaign are more sweeping and satisfying too. You begin the campaign with access to just a handful of cities near the center of the map. Exploration is a major part of what you do from game to game. You must map new territory, expanding the board with stickers as you discover places. Then you draw your own connections between the cities you've discovered, forging your own paths that have profound effects on later games. You get to "search" many of the cities you connect to, scratching off cards (like lottery tickets) to receive interesting rewards.

By the mid- to late-campaign, Season 2 feels only tenuously like regular Pandemic, as you're presented a series of scenarios with unusual goals that you must juggle with your normal objectives (unless you're told to ignore the regular goals altogether). There are even moment that play out like mysteries, if you pick up on the clues the game offers along the way. (Without explicit spoilers, I can only say this: read the flavor text of this game and keep it handy for future reference. It matters!)

I enjoyed Pandemic Legacy: Season 1, and would play a fresh copy of it again some day with friends who wanted to. But I loved Pandemic Legacy: Season 2, and would start a fresh campaign of it again right now. Of all the Legacy games I've played to date, it's the clear favorite. (Though my anticipation for the upcoming prequel, Pandemic Legacy: Season 0, is super high. Maybe unreasonably so.)

I give Pandemic Legacy: Season 2 an enthusiastic A. If you've played Legacy games and haven't played this one, you are missing out. It's a masterpiece.

Cupid's Errant Arrow

I'm a bit conflicted over the latest episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks. It was funnier again, and I enjoyed it more -- and those are the primary barometers for the show. But there was also something of a mean streak to it quite different from previous episodes, and something I hope doesn't continue in the future.

The Cerritos pairs up with the starship Vancouver for the the controlled demolition of a decaying moon that threatens the population of an alien planet -- but it turns out to be more of a diplomatic mission, as Captain Freeman struggles to negotiate the demolition in a way that satisfies conflicting opinions among the aliens. Meanwhile the meeting of this ships gives Boimler face-to-face time with his girlfriend, Brinson... and Mariner is convinced there's something off with her. Meanwhile, Tendi and Rutherford compete against each other to please Vancouver senior officer Docent, in hopes of receiving an exclusive bit of technology.

I wrote last week about how the sitcom formula often calls for one character to be the Idiot of the Week. Another trope of sitcoms is often that friends and family often treat each other like crap and dunk on each other constantly; in these shows, you can never let too much sympathy develop for one character, or you'll resent the other characters too much when they get mean. For a Star Trek comedy, this feels to me like something that needs to be avoided altogether, something unfitting for the universe.

And so, the Boimler/Mariner story line of this episode really rubbed me the wrong way. They've been an "odd couple" all along and that's been fine -- Boimler straitlaced and fastidious, Mariner easy-going and worldly. But this plot is premised on Mariner finding it so impossible to believe that Boimler could be loved by someone that she spins endless conspiracy theories to explain it. Yes, the references are great; yes, many of the jokes do generate laughs; yes, Mariner is right(-ish) in the end and something is wrong in the relationship.

But it all starts from a place of Mariner assuming that no one in the universe could possibly be in love with her "friend" -- which is a place so dark that I don't think the flashback attempting to explain her concern even begins to paper over it. This is Mariner dunking on Boimler hard, and because this is a Star Trek show that's been working to make us like all the characters, it is not a good look for Mariner. On Rick and Morty, there's a lot of humor in dunking on Jerry -- but I don't want Boimler (or anyone else) to become the Jerry of Lower Decks. (Even in trade for admittedly hilarious lines like "That guy's like a Kirk sundae with Trip Tucker sprinkles.")

The Tendi/Rutherford story line did end up in a fun place, once Docent's secret motivations were finally revealed. Up until then, there were weird questions you had to shove out of your mind, like "why can't they just replicate one of these T88s they covet so much?" and "what kind of scanning is a medical officer doing in a Jeffries tubes?" But I did laugh when the subplot finally reached its conclusion, revealing that some people would prefer not to be involved in a high-stakes adventure every week.

It's the Lower Decks formula that whatever story would be most important on any other Star Trek series is of least importance here, and that holds for Captain Freeman's negotiations over the alien moon. Still, "pound for pound," I actually found this to be the funniest plot thread of the episode. Trying to resolve this kind of conflict is so Star Trek, and people focused so intently on the wrong things when their whole society is in jeopardy is so 2020. Freeman dispensing with it all using an impulsively fired torpedo was just plain fun. (And hey, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.")

I was laughing more at this episode, even as I didn't like some of the choices made in constructing the narrative. Add that all up, and this falls for me in the same fairly narrow band all Lower Decks episodes so far have: pretty good. Not great. Not bad. Solid B.

You Look Marvelous!

For years, I'd been hearing how wonderful -- well, marvelous -- a show The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is. The critics had been saying it, the Emmys and other award shows had been saying it, and even a few friends had been saying it. I finally got a chance to catch up with the three seasons of the series so far and, well... I must now add my own voice to the chorus.

Available on Amazon Prime, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is set in late 1950s New York City and follows a housewife dealing with her divorce as she discovers a natural talent for stand-up comedy. I actually didn't know any of that when I began the first episode, which made for some fun viewing; I'd heard about the wonderfulness of the show while managing somehow to never actually hear what it was about. I did know, however, that it was created by Amy Sherman-Palladino. Her previous show Gilmore Girls repeatedly pops up as a recommendation from friends, and I have absolutely no doubt I'll enjoy it -- but the 26 episodes of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel were much more approachable than the 150+ episodes of Gilmore Girls.

Maisel definitely showcases all the wonderful things I'd heard about Sherman-Palladino's writing over the years. It's full of dense, fast-paced, and clever dialogue. I'd heard that aspect compared to Aaron Sorkin's work in the past, but you could easily argue the Sherman-Palladino is better; where Sorkin's zingers sometimes seem like unfiltered words in his own voice, the writing of Maisel feels more tailored to its characters, who each have different rhythms and personalities.

That's not to say that the world of the show feels entirely realistic. It's very much a heightened reality, and can even been a bit formulaic. But if you buy into this reality as quickly as I did, you're going to appreciate the construct, and you wouldn't really want an episode that doesn't include, say, a stand-up routine from Miriam, a dose of overbearing parenting from Abe and Rose, a sight gag about young Ethan watching too much television, and so on. Each episode mixes the ingredients up enough that I still very much appreciate them.

The performances are stellar. And while I could spend time praising the supporting cast, or pointing out all the great guest stars that the show lands (and often winds up promoting to regulars in subsequent seasons), the reason you'll want to keep watching is the two women at the top of the call sheet. Alex Borstein, best-known before this as the voice of Lois on Family Guy, turns out to have been completely squandered on Family Guy; she's hilariously funny here, but also excellent in portraying more dramatic twists and turns for her character, Susie.

Then there's star Rachel Brosnahan. She's a force of nature in this performance. Even though she's appeared in many other things before this (including early seasons of House of Cards, back when people were watching that series), this feels like the kind of breakout performance that makes you feel like a new talent has been discovered. She's fast and nimble with the rapid-fire dialogue, laugh-out-loud funny with the comedy (particularly those ever-present stand-up sets), and moving in the serious scenes. Brosnahan and Borstein have won several awards for this show, and yet watching them can make you feel like they were robbed of the handful of awards they didn't win.

Three seasons in, there's room to debate whether this season or that season was perhaps not as good as the first (which is one of those rare shows that just arrives, fully "cooked," with no awkward early episodes trying to figure itself out). But even if, say, the Catskills subplot of season 2 or the Abe blows up his entire life subplot of season 3 aren't as riveting, both seasons as a whole contain more than enough wonderful material to entertain. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is essentially 26 episodes (so far) with basically no clunkers.

And so I can only give an enthusiastic A to the series as a whole. It seems like Amazon Prime shows don't necessarily get talked about (among my friends, anyway) as often as shows on Netflix or Hulu, but this show is very much the cream of the crop.

A Time of Antiquity

In the era of social distancing, Board Game Arena has been a place to try out a bunch of different board games that are new to me, simply because they're the games the site had available. A few have been great discoveries. A few were good enough, at least, to pass the time until we could eventually play our old standbys in person again. Then there was the utterly forgettable...

The Builders: Antiquity is a fast-paced monument building game distilled down to a deck of cards and a half hour play time. A shuffled deck of structure cards are the things you can build, with a few face up in a row available at any one given time. A separate shuffled deck of workers are how you build them, with a few of those available face up in a row. During your turn, you get 3 "free actions" to work with, drafting workers, drafting buildings, or paying a worker's cost to assign them to a building you have in front of you.

There are four different skills needed on buildings and provided by workers (in various combinations); when you've assigned enough workers in total to meet a building's requirements, you flip it over for its points. You have to manage having enough money on hand to pay your workers, but essentially -- the engine building is the game. There are a few wrinkles here in there such as buying and assigning tools to upgrade workers, hiring slaves at a point penalty (but also potentially educating and freeing them later), and buildings that provide skills of their own once complete. But the wrinkles are pretty minor.

I hesitated to write anything at all about this game. I did not do so quickly in the aftermath of playing it, and now, beyond a few hastily scribbled notes I took at the time, I find I barely remember anything about it. It simply didn't make much of an impression at all; it was certainly not memorable or interesting enough to seem worth playing again, nor was it bad enough for any enormous flaws to stick in my mind.

Really, I felt it was so chaotic as to be nearly random. The game essentially comes down to "what's face up in the rows for you to take on your turn?" If you're lucky enough that the workers and buildings line up with each other (or the workers you already have on hand), the game provides no friction at all and rolls out a red carpet for you to walk to victory. If you happen to be after the same skills the player in front of you also happens to need, you're going to struggle at every turn -- and you won't be able to do much even if you recognize the problem, because the game is too short, taking too few turns, for you to really change direction midstream. Watching what other players are doing and trying to block and/or avoid them seems to be the strategic intent here, but in a game this short and this straightforward, it feels like it really needs to be 1-on-1 for that to work; with the full count of four players, someone is just plain going to get lucky and win.

There was one mechanic in here that I generated some modest interest. It involved being able to take more than your allotted 3 free actions on your turn, by paying a hefty cost that kept scaling up if you wanted to take a 4th, 5th, or (probably too expensive to be possible) 6th action. I mean, it sounded intriguing at the time, I remember -- a sort of thing I felt like could be siphoned off into some other more compelling game. But in keeping with the generally forgettable nature of this game, I now can't even remember exactly how it worked. (And it really hasn't been that long since I played.) Must not have been that compelling after all.

It's possible this is a game that doesn't make the hop to online implementation on Board Game Arena very well, and that it's more compelling with a physical copy. And like I mentioned above, it's also possible that it's better suited to two players. But with so many other great games out there, I just don't see much of a need to ever come back to this one. I give The Builders: Antiquity a C-.

The Secret of Nimmt

"How many players does that game take?"

"Well, the box says this... but it's best with this many players."

Plenty of board games have a sweet spot -- the 2-4 player game that's best with 3, the game that says it takes up to 5 but you really shouldn't try more than 4, the 4-10 player party game that would be a joke if you actually tried to play with only 4. And generally, this is not a "flaw" I would hold too hard against any of those games. With each number of players can come a host of design considerations, and what's balanced for a group one size won't necessarily work for another.

This makes the game "6 nimmt!" quite a rarity. According to the box, it can take up to 10 people. I myself have played it with 4 through 7. It's certainly different as you add players, and more chaotic -- but I've enjoyed it every time.

The game has been published as 6 nimmt! (German for "6 takes") and Slide 5. There was even a variant with a Walking Dead theme a few years back. But the gameplay is the same. A deck of cards numbered 1 to 104 is shuffled; each player is dealt a 10-card hand, and then four more cards are dealt face up on the table, each of the four becoming the first card of a separate row that will count up during the game.

Each player simultaneously chooses one card to play from their hand, and then all of them are revealed at once. The choices are arranged in order, and then assigned in that order to one of the four face-up rows. A card is added to the end of whatever row is closest to its number (while always counting up); for example, if you play an 18 when the last card in each row is a 3, 15, 19, and 94, your 18 will be added to the end of the 15 row. Each row has room for exactly five cards. If your card becomes the sixth card in the row, then you have to take all five cards there and replace them with your card to start a new row. If your card is lower than the last card in all four rows, you must choose one of those rows to take, then use your card to start a new row.

Taking cards is bad. Players begin the game with 64 points, and are fighting an inexorable countdown to 0. Each card has a number of symbols on it (bull heads in 6 nimmt!, skiers in Slide 5) that are immediately subtracted from your score when you take it -- one icon is most common, but some really dangerous cards have five or more. The game ends if any player has fallen to 0 points at the end of a round, and the winner is the player who has the most points remaining.

The rules are simple, but the strategy is a quite entertaining little game of trying to outthink your friends. Choosing the right number to play on each "trick" is quite the exercise. "Hmm, that row has room for only ONE more card. Do I try to play there, and risk that someone will play a lower number than me that gets there first?" "Maybe I just bite the bullet on this one and take a row, because the points aren't too bad right now and I could get into real trouble later." There are a lot of fun considerations here for a game that takes only a minute or two to explain and perhaps 20 minutes to play.

Like I said, it does get more chaotic as you add more players; 7 or more, for instance, introduces enough variables that you might call it random. Yet you still have more control over your destiny than in most super lightweight games you could quickly teach anyone in your family. The emotional ride is great, from the lows of getting saddled with a row full of points to the highs of just barely escaping such a fate. It's easy, it's fast, and it's fun. Sometimes, you need a game like that. And that it can work decently with such a varied number of players is fantastic.

No, 6 nimmt! does not cross the threshold into "I would always want to play this game." But it's also fast and easy enough, with just enough going on, that it would be hard to say no to. I think it's a solid B+ that I think deserves a spot in a wide range of game collections.

DS9 Flashback: Afterimage

Once the sixth season cliffhangers of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine were resolved, the next item on the list was to give the audience a fuller introduction to the new character of Ezri Dax, with "Afterimage."

When Garak begins to experience new claustrophobia-induced panic attacks, Ezri Dax is asked to serve as his counselor. But when the effort does not go well, it serves only to underscore Ezri's growing doubts: not only does she not belong on the station, she may not belong in Starfleet at all.

I find subtle genius in the strategy of pairing Garak with Ezri for our major introduction to the new character. By not putting the new Dax with one of the other primary characters, we really get a chance to brush up against everyone briefly, where things would have been more limited had this been, say, an Ezri/Julian episode.

So indeed, Ezri does interact with almost everyone this episode, and we're given a wide variety of reactions to the character. On one end, Quark is immediately accepting of her: this is Dax and I want her in my life. Okay, there's a bit of creepiness mixed in with the friendliness, since he already has amorous aims, but it's nice that someone is starting from a place of acceptance. Besides Sisko, of course -- who's here to be supportive at times and offer the hard truths in others.

Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, there's stiffness in the interaction between Kira and Ezri. Kira is open to this new friend, but the loss of her old one is still entwined with her spiritually in a difficult way. Bashir is also friendly, but here it's Ezri who makes clear that things will have to be different than the way he related with Jadzia. (Writer René Echevarria said in an interview that Ezri's "if Worf hadn't come along, it would have been you" was supposed to offer some measure of closure to Julian. Yet it strikes me as having more of a "uh, what am I supposed to do with that?" quality. But then, it seems like the desired effect for Ezri in that situation, shutting down his unwanted flirting.)

Of course, Worf is on the far end of the spectrum, and though his hostility to Ezri definitely makes him a villain of the episode, his attitude makes sense to me. He voices the quandary of grieving for someone who's not entirely dead (to O'Brien; it's good that more scenes are finally happening between the two former Next Generation characters). The flip side, of course, is that Worf is also being a shit to someone who is largely the person he loves... which he finally comes around on by the end.

But all that is basically background around the main story: Ezri must counsel Garak. It's a story that I think contains many good elements and a key not-so-good one. I like that Garak's psychological troubles are not as simple as "Unresolved Daddy Issues," as it's initially made to seem. I appreciate that inexperienced, "junior counselor" Ezri Dax is not able to get to the heart of the issue right away. And I love that Garak's character isn't softened at all to go easy on the newbie; his scathing rant to push her off the station is quite emotionally violent, and capped with the most brutal "now get out of here before I say something unkind."

What I'm not-so-hot on is that Ezri isn't even truly allowed to shine in the end. She doesn't figure out Garak's problem, or persevere in the face of the challenge. She's on her way out the door, then accidentally stumbles on the answer behind Garak's mental state. She doesn't get to display the skill of a trained Starfleet officer, or draw upon the wisdom of past Trill lifetimes -- she just gets lucky. It doesn't damage her character, exactly, but it's not really a strong moment for her. And she kind of needs one after an episode of babbling to Morn, standing on her head, and holding up the line at the replicator. Let her be competent before her endearing quirks start to sour. (But fortunately, at this point, I still find the character pretty endearing overall.)

Other observations:

• The exchange between Sisko and Dax about how he intimidates Worf is as fun to me as the moment Bashir digs something out of Quark's ear is gross.
  

• Jake mentions that Ezri is cute, which his father is there to quash... but it seems like maybe the writers were open to that pairing.
  

• A special shout-out goes to DeBoer's makeup artist Mary Kay Morse. This episode had only been filming one day before a weekend, during which Nicole DeBoer wiped out on her bicycle and got a black eye. Morse used a subtle prosthetic and clever shadowing to hide it completely for the rest of the shoot.

The dovetailing of plots and the accidental resolution feels a little "TV convenient," but this episode overall is still a good introduction to Ezri Dax. I give "Afterimage" a B.

Everything Old Is New?

Charlize Theron has kicked ass in a lot of action movies, yet takes enough other kinds of roles in between that you almost start to forget that she can really kick ass. The latest reminder of this is streaming on Netflix: The Old Guard.

Based on a comic book of the same name, this movie stars Theron as the leader of a small circle of immortals -- people with extraordinary healing abilities who have lived for centuries, devoting themselves to worthy causes. The group is targeted by a corrupt pharma executive who wants to harness their abilities for profit. And they can't easily go to ground to escape him, as someone is newly discovering their own healing abilities and needs guidance.

As far as I recall, this movie never uses the word "superhero" or "mutant" or anything in that space, even though that's basically what's going on here. That seems a deliberate choice to position the movie as more serious, more gritty... and maybe even a little more realistic than the genre usually cares to get. But neither is the movie trying to be dark and hardcore. It's very much an action movie (with very intense fight scenes) -- it just wants you to know it has something to say.

To that end, the key messages of the movie are about the ripple effects of doing good, resisting the toxic pull of cynicism, and other surprisingly hopeful notions for a film that's generally quite brutal. There's another message in the movie's diversity that speaks even louder than any of that. This is a
"superhero team" led by a woman. They pick up a black woman in the course of the story, who becomes at least as much a lead in the movie as Charlize Theron. The team includes a committed gay couple whose love for each other is not hidden in coy glances and chaste touches in the way other genre films commonly treat LGBT characters; their love is loud and proud throughout the movie.

It's all presented in a way that's absolutely insignificant to the characters themselves, while still being bold to the world around them. It's not key to the plot, but it is not ignored by the plot. At times, it does make the movie feel sort of revolutionary.

Don't get your hopes too high, though. Because while a movie like this may never have had a cast of characters like this before, there still have been a ton of movies like this. The Old Guard drinks heavily from action tropes involving reluctant mentors and students, of do-gooders who need their desire to do good renewed, of a naive newbie discovering a fantastical world they never knew of. If this movie is pleasingly light on exposition compared to many other movies of its type, it's because it's adhering so closely to the formula that it knows you don't need the exposition -- you know all this.

I would rather see more stories of The Old Guard than most other movies like it that set up for the inevitable sequel. But I was not so wowed by it that I'm eager for that film to come around. I'd give The Old Guard a B-. It's a tautology, but: if you enjoy movies like this, you'll enjoy this movie. Still, I think if diversity like this weren't unfortunately still a rather rare and novel thing, this would be more easily lost in the shuffle.

Moist Vessel

The latest episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks was arguably the most "Star Trek-y" yet, in the way it lifted several plot elements from The Next Generation to form its story. Yet I also found it least enjoyable of the four episodes thus far.

Captain Freeman is determined to get Mariner off her ship after an embarrassing moment in front of the senior staff, and begins assigning her the worst grunt work to drive her away. Meanwhile, Tendi's enthusiasm to witness an accession ceremony ends up ruining the event, and she's determined to make the officer she disrupted like her. But personal problems are pushed to the side when an alien generation ship begins to transform the Cerritos using its strange biological technology.

There's a common way of constructing a sitcom episode: from a narrative standpoint, a character has to be a deliberate idiot, unusually obtuse, or obsessive, to foment conflict and cause a problem -- to cause the plot. But because they're a main character, the audience is primed to forgive them; they'll realize the error of their ways in the end, apologize to their friends, and reset things for next week (where, hopefully, a different character will don the Idiot Hat so as not to damage one character in particular too irreparably.)

I have liked plenty of sitcoms that operate in this way. But it's a new thing to have a Star Trek series do it. And as much as I've really tried to keep an open mind on Lower Decks, as much as I actually want a new Trek series to do something legitimately different from the others, I'm really starting to chafe against this aspect of the series.

I'm interested in the strife between Freeman and Mariner, and I'm actually curious to learn if there's any particular incident(s) in their past that fractured their relationship, or if it's just a generic "they don't get along because they're so alike" conflict. Almost no main character in Star Trek gets along with their parents, it seems, so I'm convinced there's good material in here somewhere. And yet, this is the second episode in a row where Freeman has to wear the Idiot Hat to move the plot forward, and it's starting to be a permanent accessory for her character that's making it hard to like her.

Over in the secondary plot, Tendi had a Hat of her own. It felt to me like it would have been enough for her to have messed up, needing to make an apology she felt had been sincerely accepted. That she went a step farther into a pathological need to be liked felt like it was taking things too far. Sure, Tendi should have flaws -- but does she need to be this flawed when we're just getting to know her?

You may have noticed that all of the above is a pretty serious analysis of an episode of a comedy show. You might be thinking to yourself: he should really lighten up, this is a comedy. Well... it's supposed to be a comedy, sure, though I found the jokes pretty weak overall in this installment. There were definitely moments that worked for me, from yet another solid joke about what a holodeck would be used for to quibbling over the pronunciation of "sens-ORS." But a lot of the humor fell flat for me this time, and a fair amount of it lacked that sense of "loving Star Trek as much as fans do" that past episodes have had. (Mariner being so down on the stuff that's the backbone of your average Next Generation episode wore a little thin for me.)

Speaking of The Next Generation, the "main plot" of this episode was pretty much lifted straight from "Masks," and saw the Cerritos being transformed all around the crew. Here, the episode made fantastic use of its animation medium, altering the ship in radical ways that a live production would struggle to do. (Indeed, "Masks" brought out a few statues and plants and that was all the budget would allow.) We got caves, floods, and more -- and it looked really great.

But overall, this was the weakest episode of Lower Decks for me so far. I'd say it just slipped down to a C+. I hope this is just one minor stumble, and that things get back on track next week. Or perhaps I need to figure out a way to realign my expectations before the next episode.