Hill Yes!

I know that it's been several months since The Haunting of Bly Manor was the hot new thing on Netflix, but I'm so far behind in this instance that I only just got around to watching its 2018 mini-series predecessor, The Haunting of Hill House. I'm quite glad I finally did.

If you're behind the curve like me, The Haunting of Hill House is a 10-episode series loosely based on the Shirley Jackson novel of the same name. In two timelines, it follows a family's destruction upon coming into contact with the titular evil house. Horror and suspense ensues.

This series shows what you can accomplish when you map a story out for a specific number of episodes and don't worry about a need to extend it for an unknown number of additional seasons. This story is carefully planned with lots of linkages and plot twists along the way. Some, you'll see coming. Others, you won't. The moments you do perhaps run ahead of the story don't detract from the ability to enjoy it, as The Haunting of Hill House has a lot more going for it than just surprise.

For one thing, the show is often genuinely suspenseful; this horror is not only about "jump scares" or gore. Effectively creepy images abound, from intense center-frame moments to fleeting glimpses of things out of focus in the background. Hill House is unnerving fun.

The casting is outstanding. It's big enough that there's plenty of room to debate the stand-outs; I'd praise Kate Siegel, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, and Timothy Hutton as the performers who have to do the most heavy lifting. But indisputably, this is also one of the best assemblages of child actors in years, rounding out the Crain family in the extensive scenes set in the past.

If you've heard anything about The Haunting of Hill House, it might be the critical buzz surrounding episode 6, "Two Storms." It's an showy episode designed to look almost entirely like a single camera take. Unlike many famously long "single take" sequences, there are far fewer tricks in this episode to conceal camera cuts. Filmed digitally (and thus free of the constraints of a film canister), there really are only a handful of cuts over the course of 50 minutes -- and it's filled with extensive on-set practical effects and ultra-precise blocking of camera and actors (again, including child actors). It might actually cross the line into being too impressive and clever for its own good; I'm not convinced this directorial approach serves the story so much as it dazzles the audience with craftsmanship. Still, it's damn impressive.

It's also possible the ultimate ending of the story gets a little too sentimental for the horror trappings? But a story grounded in characters needs to do right by those characters in the end, and I certainly can't easily imagine a stronger ending than the one that's here.

In all, I'd give The Haunting of Hill House a B+. I'm probably so far behind the crowd here that anyone I know who would like it has already seen it. But I'll take a chance anyway: if you're a horror fan and haven't watched it, you're missing out.

Go West

A while back, I wrote about Maracaibo, a board game from designer Alexander Pfister with some intriguing strategic wrinkles... that nevertheless felt like a bit too much game for my play group. Since then, I've learned why the game felt so overwhelming, like two games' worth of complexity stuffed in one: it kind of is exactly that.

Maracaibo is substantially based on the mechanisms of an earlier Pfister game, Great Western Trail, which itself enjoyed a long run in the Top 10 games on Board Game Geek. (It was very recently displaced by the surging Gloomhaven: Jaws of the Lion.) It's a game about guiding your covered wagon through the pitfalls and opportunities of multiple trips into the western frontier, managing resources and outthinking your opponents. Now that I've played that game, Maracaibo feels to me like it was made for Great Western Trail fans who just wanted more of everything in it. Bsically, I read book two of a series when I really ought to have started with book one. Maracaibo felt like Great Western Trail after you'd bought two or three expansions for it.

When you take your turn in Great Western Trail, you advance your wagon a number of spaces within a set range. There are several factors that might weigh into how far you choose to move. Going further, faster, than any of your opponents can be advantageous. But stopping at spaces you own can be extra friendly to you. Yet of course, it's a resource management game at its core, and sometimes you need certain things and have to stop at the places where you can get them.

Unlike Maracaibo, this moment of choice in Great Western Trail didn't feel too overwhelming to me. There weren't loads of nested "sub-decisions" waiting to trip you up, and it became easier to know what you wanted the more the game went on. The pace of Great Western Trail definitely accelerates as you play, and I think in this case that's a good thing.

Without going deep into the weeds of explaining what is still a rather advanced game overall, I'll say that there are a lot of directions you can go to get your victory points, and it felt like they were all quite viable. (You'd expect that of a game rated this highly by the board game community, but still...) My first experience with Great Western Trail was a three-player game in which all three of us focused primarily on different ways of amassing points. (And yet it didn't feel like we were engaged in simultaneous solitaire.) In the end, we all ended up with fairly competitive scores that made me eager to play again. Maybe if I'd done this a little differently, or that?

There are interesting sources of randomness in the game too -- not enough to seem chaotic, but enough to make obvious that repeat plays could unfold in very different ways. There's a track where tokens representing workers for hire amass during the game, with prices that vary depending on what point of the game they came out. Different playthroughs will make different options more cost effective at different times, and can make certain options unusually scarce or abundant. Any of these things have strong ramifications on the overall texture of the game, while still all existing within a controlled band of what's possible.

Like I said, there's still a lot of game here. Not an overwhelming amount for my tastes, but it certainly would be for many. This is not a gateway into the board game hobby. It's not even the game you'd teach someone first after they grew to like the gateway game. But it's clever and compelling and not super-long like some games that have this much going on. I can see the reasons for its popularity -- and see why a more complicated spiritual successor was made in Maracaibo. (Which, maybe if I get to play a bunch more Great Western Trail, I'd want to revisit.)

I'd give Great Western Trail at least a B+, and clearly trending upward if I get to play it more.

DS9 Flashback: The Dogs of War

The penultimate episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is in fact the "ultimate" episode of Deep Space Nine for a number of characters, as the Ferengi take center stage one last time in "The Dogs of War."

Grand Nagus Zek is coming to the station to resign from power and name his successor. When Brunt arrives to suck up to the next boss, Quark learns that changes to Ferengi society are more extensive than he realized, and resolves to return to the the old ways. On Cardassia, Damar, Garak, and Kira are forced into hiding when their Resistance movement is betrayed and wiped out -- but a way forward appears when popular sentiment for their cause rises. And meanwhile, Julian Bashir and Ezri Dax continue their delicate stepping around sharing their true feelings for one another.

There are more than a few nits one can pick at in the Ferengi story line of this episode. It's jarringly light in the midst of the seriousness of the larger final story arc. The idea that Quark thinks he's going to be Nagus was already covered before. So has Quark's resistance to progressive change. And it doesn't seem very realistic that so much could have changed on Ferenginar in such a short time without Quark being aware of it. Or that the Nagus could still hand-pick his successor after implementing a Congress to provide oversight.

But... the thing is... this is pretty much the perfect ending for all these characters. In a final season touching on every significant recurring character throughout the series, Zek and "Moogie" deserve their due. There's no need to preserve a status quo for Star Trek: Voyager, set in another part of the galaxy. Having Moogie's feminist crusade succeed is the really the only choice that comports with Star Trek's ideals. Having Quark resist is true to who his character has been all along. And making Rom the Grand Nagus of this kindler, gentler Ferenginar? It's the cherry on top of the sundae.

So it all may feel rushed, but it also feels quite natural. And we get some fun laughs along the way. Quark's paraphrase of Picard's First Contact "the line must be drawn here" speech is Trek fan gold -- Armin Shimerman even gives it a little British accent twist. (Ronald Moore, who co-wrote both this episode and that movie, said "I take great glee at mocking my own work.") Maihar'du gets one more bit of physical comedy for the road. Brunt grovels, and grovels some more.

And while I'm on Brunt... it's a big show for actor Jeffrey Combs, who plays both Brunt and Weyoun in the same episode for the first (and only) time. The two characters could not be more different, and the show is so confident in his ability to separate them that there are even two back-to-back scenes going from one character to the other. In the real world, there was apparently one day of filming where Combs played Weyoun in the morning, then went back to makeup and played Brunt in the afternoon. What I'm saying is: Jeffrey Combs rocks.

Where the Ferengi part of the episode is the ending to the story, the rest of the episode is putting the final pieces in place for the series ending. I suppose our heroes needed a new ship to take into battle for the last installment, though it does feel to me like it undermines the emotions of destroying the Defiant to replace it so quickly. (Even changing the name of the new ship to Defiant!) Elsewhere, Julian and Ezri skip through a handful of quintessentially rom-com scenes on their way to finally beginning their romantic relationship. And Kasidy Yates reveals that she's pregnant.

This last plot point was, as many pregnancies are, unplanned. Staff writer René Echevarria had been mulling over the Prophets' warning to Sisko that marrying Kasidy would bring him "sorrow," and felt that they weren't paying off that idea. Any death-like sacrifice Sisko made would mean him saying goodbye to Kasidy and Jake, so what about the marriage in particular were the Prophets warning against? Echevarria sold the team on a pregnancy as a way of tying up that loose end... but in the process created another problem that Avery Brooks would bring to their attention. (More on that when I talk about the finale.)

Speaking of Avery Brooks, this is his last turn in the director's chair for the series, and he has some fun with it. He gets great performances as usual, particularly in the comedy -- Worf's disdain for the childish Bashir, Mila's cranky old woman routine, and the gallows humor surrounding Damar's "secret mountain hideaway." Brooks also employs great camera work, such as the arch upward angle as Quark sneers down at Brunt, or the dance around the jewelry shop as Ezri and Julian dance around their relationship.

Other observations:

• Damar has a great reaction to learning that Enabran Tain was Garak's father: he cannot stop staring at Garak.
  

• Another great and subtle moment is when Kira tries to rally them all: "We are not spending the rest of the war in this cellar! Are we? Are we?" The first "are we" is defiant. The second betrays a trace of doubt.

• The static-garbled "phone call" between Quark and Zek is a plot device to confuse who will become Nagus, of course. But it's also a fun opportunity to imply the use of some foul language that wouldn't fly on Star Trek of this era.

•  It's a fun detail that Sisko -- not Kasidy Yates -- missed taking his birth control.

As I said, this feels like the right ending for the Ferengi characters. But it does feel a bit rushed. So I think I'd give "The Dogs of War" a B.

Just one final episode to go...

Help Yourself AND Your Bankroll?

It's been a while since I was so deeply into the game of poker that I'd read almost any book on the subject I could get my hands on. But I came across a book recently that spoke straight to that old interest in a new and unique way.

Writer and psychologist Maria Konnikova recently published a book called The Biggest Bluff: How I Learned to Pay Attention, Master Myself, and Win. It has a irresistible (to me) and hooky premise: one day, Konnikova -- who knew literally nothing about poker (not even the number of cards in a deck) -- decided that the game was a valuable proxy for life lessons. She resolved to pick up poker and, within a year, be playing at the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas.

To aid in this endeavor, Konnikova was able to convince poker pro Erik Seidel to mentor her. (As the book tells it, he found her argument compelling that psychology was a strong background from which to study poker.) If you're even casually familiar with poker, you probably known Seidel as the "sucker" who had one put over on him by Johnny Chan in a hand made infamous in the movie Rounders. Contrary to this impression, Seidel is in fact one of the most successful players of all time, and this book is some excellent rehab on his reputation if Rounders is your only exposure to him.

What The Biggest Bluff is not is a strategy book -- not primarily, at least. It is larger part a self-help book, and in larger part still a classic underdog narrative. Each of those components is compelling, as are the many side narratives Konnikova weaves into her tale -- such as the "know the person, not the odds" side game known as Lodden Thinks, or the tragic downfall of poker pro Paul "X-22" Magriel.

The prose isn't always perfect. I feel as though anyone less familiar with poker would be making extensive use of the book's glossary of terms. And the "life lessons" Konnikova is drawing from poker on the way aren't always explicitly spelled out -- though there is certainly wisdom in these pages if you pull it from the surrounding narrative.

You do get a real sense of how much work it would be to play poker professionally, how exhausting it would be to perform at a high level. You might not yourself have thought "all they do is sit there" in exactly those words, but this book would definitely disabuse you of that notion. Konnikova makes clear how much intense focus is required at all times to succeed at a poker table.

I found The Biggest Bluff to be a brisk and fun read. I'd give it a B+. While I found its strongest component to be the "can she do it?" goal of World Series play she sets out for herself, it might just be a book worth revisiting every so often for the advice about "maximizing your play" at life.

Going on a Terra

It has been years since I played the highly-regarded board game Terra Mystica -- and my single play at that time didn't leave a lasting impression. But it's listed in the Top 20 over at Board Game Geek, and when I had a recent chance to try it again, I was curious to see why its rating is sky high.

In Terra Mystica, each player shepherds a fantasy culture through several rounds of building and expansion, converting terrain on a map to be hospitable to them, then growing their empire into the newly reformed area. I'll try not to get too deeply into the mechanisms; many of my readers already know the game, and it's not likely to make much sense to the rest without actually playing it. But I think I get why the game is popular. There are a lot of subtle elements to master within the gameplay.

One of your "currencies" is a group of power tokens that circulate through three "bowls" on a personal playmat. You charge up by progressing them through bowls one and two, and can only spend them from bowl three; managing this circulation is a bit trickier than it seems at first.

There are moments in the game where you're allowed to give up victory points you've scored to gain momentum for expanding your strategy. Knowing when it's right to do that -- and more importantly, when it's right to stop doing that -- is a key element of success.

Generally, resources are quite hard to accumulate relative to the variety of ways you can spend them. It's not unusual to have a slow round of gathering before you can take a big action next round. Judging how many of your resources you should save for later and how much you should spend now is yet another tricky moment of decision.

But to me, all of those seem like essentially "solvable" puzzles. I certainly haven't done so after just a couple of plays spread out over a decade; I imagine it would take many, many games in close proximity to to so. but it sure feels like there's one "best answer" to a lot of these questions, and not enough in the game that might change those answers.

There are random tokens used to give different scoring criteria in each of the game's five rounds... but there are other sources of scoring that seem to loom much larger in the design as a whole, comprising a bigger share of the final scores.

The game does have 14 different species you can play, each with different powers... and you will be encouraged to look at different strategies depending on which one you play. Yet it also feels like each one is so specialized that it will lock you into a certain way to play that's optimal for it. Who you are playing seems like a far more important consideration than the decisions made by your opponents. Your perfect progression of infrastructure decisions can't easily be disrupted enough by what others do.

Now, I will say: I'm overstating my argument a bit here, more in reaction to the idea that this is one of the Top 20 Board Games of All Time. It's not a bad game. And in as much as it does have 14 different species you could master, one by one, there is quite a bit of replayability here -- more than many games have. But playing it felt like a bit of a solitary exercise to me, one I'm not sure I'd feel rewarded enough to repeat that many times.

The less hyperbolic way to sum up would be that there are other games that to me scratch a similar itch while feeling more interactive. Hell, there's one that even starts with the same first five letters: Terraforming Mars (which is rated even higher on BoardGameGeek). I'd give Terra Mystica a B-. I would certainly play it again if someone else picked it; it just wouldn't be my personal choice.

DS9 Flashback: Extreme Measures

"Extreme Measures" is perhaps the most distinct episode in the final run of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. It's also the one the writers feel was the weakest... and while they may be right, it's still an enjoyable hour.

Dr. Bashir and Chief O'Brien succeed in luring Sloan of Section 31 to the station. But when Sloan realizes he's been trapped, he activates a suicide response rather than give up the cure to the changeling disease. Before his brain fails completely, Bashir intends to modify a Romulan memory scanner to invade Sloan's mind and extract the information. But there's less than an hour to do it, and anyone trapped inside Sloan's mind may die too.

Where every other episode in the final arc juggles multiple story lines, this one is devoted to a single plot: giving Bashir and O'Brien one last adventure together before the end of the series. (And if you re-frame that just a little as "finding a cure for Odo," even the opening scene between Odo and Kira fits in neatly.)

The writers' disappointment with the final result stems largely from "what might have been." Apparently, they'd always planned for "someone to go inside someone else's mind" here, but the players involved changed a lot due to the overall arc change that sent Bashir in search of the cure instead of Odo. When it was an infected-but-not-symptomatic Odo on the hunt, he was to have learned that his own "father," Dr. Mora, was somehow responsible for the disease -- recruited or coerced by Section 31. Without Odo at the center of the story, that twist seemed superfluous.

Where I do agree with the writers is that this doesn't work out to be the best Bashir-O'Brien adventure one could imagine. O'Brien's role feels very much tacked-on here; his job is ultimately to keep Bashir focused on Odo and not "bringing down Section 31." That might have been enough, but for two issues. First, the idea that Bashir could destroy Section 31 is a false one, since he'll die if he lingers in Sloan's mind. Second, the writers have Bashir spell out to the audience in the final scene just what O'Brien contributed, not trusting us to grasp the point on our own (or trusting themselves to have conveyed it effectively).

But there is some good fun along the way, much of it because of the character of Sloan (and the performance of William Sadler). We see how the calculating villain reacts when he's cornered: almost admiring of having been caught, threatening O'Brien's family, appealing to Bashir's sense of logic, then ultimately getting angry that goody-goody people like Bashir would destroy the Federation if given the chance. We see the nobler side of Sloan made manifest inside his own mind: the part that regrets choosing career over family, that actually wants to help. We see Sloan fight until his very last moment.

What I wish we'd also seen was confirmation that Sloan himself was genetically enhanced. It might have been an unnecessary detail, but it sure would have gone a long way toward justifying how he always got the drop on Bashir. Here, it would have explained how his mind is so disciplined that he momentarily fools our heroes into not knowing the difference between reality and simulation. (And "we're still in Sloan's mind" is a fun fake-out, even if the episode is really only set on the station to save money on new sets in advance of a budget-busting series finale.)

This "one last episode" devoted to Bashir and O'Brien gets more explicit about their friendship than ever, with a key scene in which Bashir observes that they like each other more than the women they love. That's plainly true inasmuch as the show has utterly sidelined Keiko as a character, but it's also a deliberate point that show runner Ira Steven Behr wanted to make here about the separate value of friendship and love. Behr recalls being summoned to the set because neither Alexander Siddig nor Colm Meaney wanted to play the scene as written, both having to be coaxed into it. I think the scene steers mostly clear of "gay panic" (and I'd like to believe that wasn't the objection), though I think it isn't quite direct enough in making the case for friendship -- that it can be okay if not every married couples derives every ounce of happiness in life from each other.

The opening scene does make a great case for romantic love, though. With Odo looking almost like a pile of dead leaves about to blow away (great makeup and costuming!), he asks Kira to leave so that his death won't be her final memory of him. Explicitly setting aside what she wants for herself, she gives him what he wants. 

Other observations:

• Like Kira, Sisko makes a big impact with just a single scene. Avery Brooks' reactions to being filled in on Section 31's machinations are great, from the aghast response to calculated genocide to the knowing acceptance of moral compromise in order to catch their amoral prey.
  

• It might have been nice to have a quick mention of the last "mind adventure" of Chief O'Brien before this, surely the most upsetting experience of his life.

• The somewhat wishy-washy Federation president we met a few seasons back is here referred to as the former president.

The intention of this episode seems good, even if the execution falls a bit short. It isn't really "bad" in any case. I give "Extreme Measures" a B.

Car Talk

At the last Oscars, there were enough Best Picture contenders I wasn't interested in that I knew I'd never get around to seeing them all. But there was one I just hadn't gotten around to yet (and that simply had no chance of winning): Ford v Ferrari. Recently, I was able to cross it off the list.

Ford v Ferrari is the story of the 1966 race at Le Mans, in which a team of racers for Ford were vying to end the annual domination of the event by Ferrari. It's a pretty classic underdog story -- a tale of the working class against the execs, of people who know best fighting to overcome the short-sightedness of those who think they know better.

There is essentially nothing here you haven't seen before. Screen writers have diligently molded real-world events to fit the three-act structure. You don't need to Google anything about the history beforehand to know exactly how the story is going to end. You can even guess the various obstacles and setbacks along the way.

The cast has been carefully chosen to play the types of roles they've repeatedly proven good at: Matt Damon at his maximum aw-shucks-iness as he quietly inspires and leads his team, and Christian Bale as a volatile asshole who gets results but is hard to work with. There's a solid-enough supporting cast including Jon Bernthal and Josh Lucas, but the script gives them all archetypes to play more than characters.

Sounds like I didn't like it much, doesn't it? And yet...

Ford v Ferrari may not be a gymnast pulling off some crazy new flip no one has ever managed before. It simply goes out there and executes a flawless routine, perfectly executing move after move. Let's be honest: if you watch this movie, you're watching it for the race sequences, not the talk between. And those sequences are excellent. Director James Mangold has worked with his team to seamlessly blend clever camera positioning, great stunt work and CG, and tight editing (which won the Oscar), to deliver really kinetic and exciting action.

And the not-so-secret weapon that pushes it over the top is the sound design. Best Sound Editing was this movie's other Oscar win, and it's the reason the whole thing works. This movie is brash, noisy, and effective -- and the sound effects work in perfect accord with a slick and cool musical score by Marco Beltrami and Buck Sanders. I remain confused why this movie was up for Best Picture, but there's no question it deserved the editing awards for picture and sound that it did win.

All told? I'd probably give the movie a B-. It's not essential viewing, but if you're into auto racing and somehow haven't seen it already, you're certain to at least enjoy it.

A Kingly Effort

When people talk about this being a new golden age of television, they're usually praising a series from a streaming service, a premium channel, or at the very least a cable network. Broadcast television has been the place of the most boring "common denominator" television for ages, right?

Except that creators Robert and Michelle King made one of the best shows of the last decade in The Good Wife -- not "good for network," but good by any measure. Then they made a spin-off (yes, for a streaming service) in The Good Fight that was arguably even better. (It's certainly more delicious.) Meanwhile, they tried something bizarre and off-kilter in the one-season-and-cancelled Brain Dead... and most recently have offered up a new series (waiting to begin filming its second season) called Evil.

Evil is sort of "The X-Files, but for religious miracles." A trio of investigators investigates unexplained phenomena for the church. Each of the three brings a unique perspective to the mix: a forensic psychologist, a committed seminarian, and a deeply skeptical technology expert. Over the course of a 13-episode season, they uncover a larger conspiracy and acquire a recurring nemesis.

If I say that Evil is without question the least of the Kings' television series to date, know that that says more about their phenomenal hit rate than about major shortcomings with this series. The show still does a good job juggling "case of the week" stories with ongoing development of all the characters and a gradually unfolding "mythology" (in X-Files parlance). But not all of the parts are truly compelling on this show, which is probably why it rates a little lower for me.

For example, much of the story revolves around main character Kristen Bouchard, raising her four daughters essentially on her own because of the world travels of her husband. And those four young girls are written in the most annoying (realistic?) way you could possible imagine four loud, bickering siblings to be. I found myself wishing they had less screen time if only to give my ears a rest.

The show also doesn't always make the best use of all its assets. Christine Lahti is one of the best actors regularly on TV, but here she's relegated to a usually thankless role as Kristen's contrarian mother; an attempt to give her more screen time in the back half of the season comes at the expense of making her character foolish and naive.

But then, there's also a fair amount to like here. The main trio on the show are all fun to watch. Katja Herbers as Bouchard, Mike Colter (of Luke Cage) as David Acosta, and Aasif Mandvi (of The Daily Show) as Ben Shakir are all strong individually (when given separate story lines) and great together (when working as a group). And Michael Emerson (of Lost) gives good villain as he always does, in the role of calculating psychopath Leland Townsend; his character gains more nuance as the season unfolds, and he rises to each new and bizarre challenge the story throws at him.

Evil is not at all a contender for "the best show you're not watching," but if you liked any of the other shows from the Kings, you're almost certain to find something to like in this one -- even though the subject matter seems wildly different. I give it a B, and I'll be looking forward to more of it when they're able to resume production and pick up the story.

DS9 Flashback: Tacking Into the Wind

The final story arc of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine continues with "Tacking Into the Wind."

To help Starfleet develop countermeasures to the Breen energy weapon, Damar and his resistance fighters are going to steal one from a Cardassian station -- if divisions with Kira (and Odo's rapid deterioration) don't jeopardize the entire effort. Chief O'Brien concocts a plan to extract a cure for the Changeling disease from Section 31. And Worf is tasked with doing anything to end the threat that Chancellor Gowron poses to the war effort.

This is a big episode with some big plot moves. The only slow moments involve Bashir and O'Brien setting up for the next episode -- and even those scenes are informed by character in fun ways. Hearing Bashir turn down an opportunity to play at spycraft would have been unthinkable a few seasons earlier. Meanwhile, O'Brien himself has experienced some spycraft in that time to get him thinking in such devious ways.

Fans who have watched all the Star Trek series are rewarded with some thematic bookends. Just as Worf began the reign of Gowron on The Next Generation, here he ends it: with an assassination-by-honorable-combat. It's far from the series' most dynamic hand-to-hand combat sequence. (The cramped setting inhibits movement, the stunt doubles are obvious, and the odd cutting suggests there was limited time to shoot enough camera angles.) Still, I find the circumstances leading up to the fight quite compelling.

Writer Ronald D. Moore, most responsible for building up Star Trek's Klingon mythology, here tears it down, using Ezri Dax as his mouthpiece. For all their talk of honor, Klingons leaders are irredeemably corrupt: politicking and backstabbing, harboring secrets and coercing others to keep them, and amassing power for their own ignoble purposes. It is a bit sad, though, that we never really see what the Empire looks like after this; Voyager was not in a position to address it, and then no Star Trek series was set after this moment for more than two decades (and even then, Star Trek: Picard has not yet spent any time on Klingons).

Entertaining as all that is, though, the standout story line for me is the one involving Kira, Odo, Garak, and Damar. For the romance between Odo and Kira, this may be the most effective episode of the series. There have been times the relationship has felt quite one-sided (starting as it did, from Odo's infatuation-from-afar). But here, Kira's love is clear; she knows how sick Odo has been come, but also knows he wants to hide it, so she honors him by playing along.

The tension between Kira and Rusot builds effectively throughout the episode. Rusot simply will not allow himself to be taught anything by Kira. He takes every opportunity to goad her into lashing out, and she carefully avoids taking the bait. It takes Garak to see that, diplomatic as she's being, the two are on a collision course. And it takes Damar to finally act, in a transformative moment that completes his journey from villain to hero.

Along the way, we get several poignant moments that use what we've learned about the characters over seven years. Garak finding a frail and flaking Odo echoes the moment when he tortured the shapeshifter seasons earlier. Kira cannot help but get a dig in on Damar at his lowest moment, when he learns of the death of his family. (And Damar deserves it, really.) Odo has always disliked "guns," and we see it his horrified reaction to the extermination of the Jem'Hadar bridge crew during their infiltration. 

Other observations:

• This episode has a great opening, showing us the destruction of a Jem'Hadar ship that turns out to be on "instant replay."

• Weyoun isn't in much of this episode, but he has a great moment where he spews some of his true believer propaganda at its very architect, the Changeling Leader. Needless to say, she doesn't get high on her own supply, threatening that she'd kill this Weyoun if only the Vorta cloning apparatus were up and running.
  

• The is the first of two consecutive episodes in which Quark doesn't appear at all. This final season of Deep Space Nine lined up with the third season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer; likely Quark was written around deliberately to free up Armin Shimerman for the other series.
  

• A scene reportedly filmed but cut for time had Ezri asking Worf about his incredibly brief reign as chancellor of the Empire (before handing the mantle to Martok). Worf wished that his father had been there to see it, and the two end up toasting both Mogh and Jadzia.

Though it could have had a better final fight for Gowron, I think "Tacking Into the Wind" is still one of the strongest episodes of the final arc. I give it an A-.

Rome Enough

Trajan is one of designer Stefan Feld's most highly regarded board games. I played it a few times many years ago -- so long ago that I'd forgotten the experience. I assumed that as much as I enjoyed Feld's other games, this one simply didn't stack up next to the others for me personally. That's an assumption I recently confirmed in revisiting the game.

Trajan is a game about Ancient Rome, but not really simulating any one aspect of Roman life in particular. You engage in trade (as the rules define it; not with other players), political intrigue, military domination (against the game; not directly against other players), and more. You build up your own personal tableau and try to amass more points than your opponents over several rounds.

This game was published in 2011, and pulling it out to play it now shows a lot about how far graphic design has come in just the handful of years since then. The board is divided into multiple sections where, essentially, a "mini-game" of sorts is being played. Each section has its own tiny rules you need to remember, and there's no player aid provided for that purpose -- no shorthand iconography on the board, no reference card for you to keep handy. The sections aren't even made to look all that distinct; the overall aesthetic feel of the board was valued more over any of that.

I feel that in many ways, that visual read is reflective as the game as a whole. There are a lot of aspects to Trajan that I find quite compelling on their own... but they don't really fit together for me. There are clever mechanisms, to be sure, but I feel like the game doesn't focus on any one of them enough.

For example, take the game's central action-taking mechanism: it's essentially the classic game of Mancala. Each player has a personal board with six spaces arrayed in a circle, each of the six representing the ability to take an action in a different area of the main board. On your turn, you pick up all the tokens from one space, then drop them one-at-a-time in a clockwise pattern around your circle. Wherever your last piece drops, that's the action you take. You really have to plan ahead, thinking not just about your next action, but what that will then allow you do do for the action after that -- because every move changes the number of pieces in your spaces, which in turn changes where the last piece will land when you pick up a group.

I find this a super-compelling way to constrain actions in a strategy game like this. It's very challenging to plan for the impact that your decisions will have down the road, and it's a challenge I welcome. It really encourages and rewards chess-like thinking about the consequences of your actions. But there's an extra wrinkle in this system that I think the game doesn't make the most of: the 12 pieces you use on your personal "Mancala board" are two pairs in six different colors. Each space can have a building tile near it calling for two particular colors of tokens. If you end your movement in a space with a tile, and that space has the two colors the tile calls for, you build the tile and get its bonuses.

That too is a compelling idea, adding a new wrinkle for you to have to plan around. Except that you don't end up planning around it all that much. You begin the game with three building tiles, and there is a mechanism for gaining more. But it's a somewhat difficult mechanism, to a degree that unless you make building a focal point of your game, you'll probably only build one or two more tiles beyond the three you start with -- if any extras at all. The color aspect to these tokens seems like it's going to be a huge deal when you're learning about this game's spin on Mancala. For most players, though, it seems like "not so much."

The mini-games of the central game board are similarly areas where lots of rules suggest big strategic implications on the game. But this is, at its core, one of those Euro games where "you can't do everything, and you should focus on just one or two things." So in a four-player game, you and one opponent might be focused on this vaguely "light cycle-ish" kind of area of barrier building at the center-right of the board, while two other players are focused mainly on this set collection mini-game next door. Someone might invest in this area control/movement section at top of the board, while others are drawn to a "king of the hill" system at the bottom.

You have to learn how all these rules work, all these games within the larger game of Trajan. And I suspect that for many, this would be a huge appeal: "Trajan is never quite the same game twice! What you do next time might be completely different than what you did this time!" I feel like its more a case of a few too many intriguing systems all getting in each others' ways -- a game where not all the players are actually made to compete against each other at all times.

I would play Trajan again, mainly for that intriguing Mancala-like core in the design. But revisiting the game, I now can understand how so many years went by since the last time I played. Compared to other, more focused Stefan Feld games, this one feels a little too kitchen-sink-ish to me. I give Trajan a B-.

DS9 Flashback: When It Rains...

There are some writers who methodically outline every moment of their story before they set out to write. There are other writers who just set out on the journey and find their way as they go along. Television rarely affords the luxury of the first category -- and even less so in the midst of filming a 26-hour season of television. When the writers of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine set out on their final arc, it was inevitable that their plans would change at some point. "When It Rains..." is the episode most impacted by this.

Damar's new Cardassian resistance movement needs molding from someone who knows guerilla tactics, and Kira Nerys is the person for the job -- despite the obvious friction her presence will cause. Odo accompanies her... only to discover soon after leaving the station that the virus infecting the Founders is in him as well. What's more, Dr. Bashir soon deduces that virus was created and deliberately given to Odo by Section 31. Martok is sidelined by an ambitious Gowron, who is looking to seize the spotlight just as the Klingons must step up their role in the war. And Dukat's attempt to unleash the Pah-wraiths without Winn's help brings him very personal consequences.

To hear the writers describe their original idea of this episode, almost every aspect of it changed before the final script. That snowball started rolling when they were thinking about Damar, who they'd originally imagined to stay undercover with the Dominion to sabotage from within. Realizing this would wall him off for the entire arc and prevent him from interacting with the main characters, the decision was made to have him break away and start a formalized resistance in which some of the regulars could participate.

Kira, of course, was the most logical and dramatically interesting choice to pair with him. Unfortunately, though, she came with story baggage that the writers hadn't set out to address: Damar's murder of Ziyal seems like an act she shouldn't easily overlook, no matter the circumstances. Even more so for Garak, who also joins this plot line. Both actors expressed their disappointment that their characters didn't confront Damar head on about it... though Nana Visitor did acknowledge in an interview that this wouldn't have served a story about reforming the villain (and about the moral compromises one makes in war). Some quick lip service to Ziyal is about all this episode can make time for.

Originally, the writers had planned a different story for Kira and Odo. Upon learning that Section 31 created the Founder virus, Odo was personally going to hunt them down with Kira's help. Not wishing to separate their romantic couple, the writers instead sent Odo along on Kira's new mission with Damar. This lets the grousing Cardassians under Damar make points about collaborating being a murky moral issue (though they're really doing it just to get under Kira's skin, of course).

This also gives Bashir (and O'Brien) a better role in the episodes to come, taking over the hunt for Section 31. Since every Section 31 story so far has been centered on Bashir, I really can't imagine this plot line ever having been planned out any other way.

But then, perhaps all that planning went into justifying exactly when and how Section 31 infected Odo with their engineered disease. That logic does hold up under scrutiny; Odo is said to have been infected while he was on Earth, and he would have passed it on to the Founders when he linked with them to be judged. The very slow incubation time seems logical, as they wouldn't have known how long it would take Odo to connect with his people, and they wouldn't want him showing signs of illness before then.

The Founders also getting sick before Odo also tracks, if you assume that the "clock" stopped running on Odo during the several months in which he'd been made humanoid. That last part would seem to be just a happy accident, though; another change in the writing is that Odo was originally planned to just be a "Typhoid Mary" who carried the disease without contracting it. Having him actually get sick is the better choice, though, raising the stakes across the board.

The Dukat/Winn story line in this episode is yet another aspect that wasn't part of the writers' original plan. In fact, everything that had happened between them up to this point was the original plan for the two characters. It had taken far fewer episodes than they'd imagined to set up Winn and Dukat for the finale, and here they were several hours to go. With plenty of other story threads that needed the time, the decision was made to "bench" these two characters somehow, finding a way to suspend their story.

It was René Echevarria who came up with the idea of blinding Dukat. Unfortunately, I think it's too interesting an idea. Mechanically speaking, the audience is not supposed to wonder what's going on with him or Kai Winn after this episode. Instead, I find myself very much wanting to watch Dukat suffer for a while, and wanting to see what exactly he has to do to get back in the Pah-wraith's good graces. I also kind of want to see what Winn does without him; does she regret casting him out, wishing she'd kept him closer? Basically, there are just too many intriguing dramatic possibilities here. If "writing Winn and Dukat out of the next few episodes" was indeed the point, it might have just been better to assume they were both just studying their evil book all that time.

The one aspect of this episode that did go according to the original plan was Gowron's return to the action. The tension between him and Martok is an interesting study in politics through a Klingon lens. Gowron is scheming here, trying to rid himself of a rival using honor and glory. There will be more to say about that in the next episode. For now, at least, it's interesting to see a smarter Martok -- not taking the bait when goaded by a Romulan senator, and recognizing the box Gowron is trying to put him in. (If Worf feels a bit marginalized here, that was no doubt done on purpose to allow actor Michael Dorn an easier time in the director's chair this episode.)

Other observations:

• They aren't even bothering with "last time on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" re-caps anymore. (They're clever about sprinkling reminders into the episode itself. And they're rightly assuming that by now, you're either in or you're out on this series.)

• The idea Bashir has to use Odo's "tissue" to create organs from undifferentiated cells is essentially one of the goals in actual stem cell research. Some day, this will be yet another real-world technology that Star Trek anticipated.
  

• Guest actor Vaughn Armstrong appears as the Cardassian Seskal, one of his record 13 characters in various incarnations of Star Trek.
  

• This is the last Deep Space Nine episode to be scored by "recurring but not regular" composer Paul Baillargeon. He uses some fairly conspicuous electronic drums during Martok's award ceremony that are quite unusual for Star Trek.

This is a jam-packed episode that goes by quickly and definitely leaves you wanting more. I give "When It Rains..." a B+.

Top to Bottom

Based on an acclaimed play and starring two heavy-hitting actors, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom is the sort of film likely to have garnered attention and award buzz under any circumstances. That it sadly became the last performance of actor Chadwick Boseman only heightened the prestige -- and the film's availability on Netflix ensures easy access to those who want to see it.

August Wilson is the playwright behind Ma Rainey's Black Bottom -- and nine other plays in the "Pittsburgh Cycle." The recent adaptation of another of those plays, Fences, left me cold; I thought its deliberate pace didn't transfer well from stage to screen. This story is much more focused in setting, time, and action, and feels much sharper to me for it.

Ma Rainey's Black Bottom is a biting and astute look at institutional racism. It was just as surely so in 1984 when the play was new, and much of the audience no doubt imagined the attitudes it presented to be a "thing of the past." Against the backdrop of Black Lives Matter, in a world where language has evolved to better articulate what's always been there, the story feels very scathing, and very current. The white characters in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom are coldly transactional in checking their overt racism; some of the black characters are keenly aware of this while others are not, and therein lies much the conflict.

This film adaptation does at times still feel like a play, but mostly because it feels like much of August Wilson's dialogue has been transported intact to the screen. Nearly every character has at least one long monologue, a wordy and revealing speech that's quite rare in film today. (You might get one in any given movie. Five? Never.) The camera often works to bridge the gap, though, getting up close and personal with the characters as an audience for live theater never can. This is in many ways an Oscar bait movie, but actors are allowed space to earn those Oscars in unbroken takes where the camera is right up on them to show everything they're feeling.

And make no mistake: Chadwick Boseman will win the Oscar for this. He would have been a nominee for sure even had he not passed away; he is so raw and wild and exposed in the role of Levee Green that you can't help but notice. It's arresting that someone so slight can feel so dangerous, but Boseman absolutely commands each scene he's in. In hindsight, you see how frail he looks here, realize that this was not some Christian Bale-style choice to lose a bunch of weight for a role, and understand the real-world pain he had to have been pushing through to give this performance. It's sad that his many awards will come posthumously, but they will be deserved.

Viola Davis is also strong in the title role. The script sets her up to shine as one of those characters that every other character in a story revolves around, but she still takes that baton and carries it over the finish line. This Oscar winner has a real shot at repeating. It's in fact a top-notch ensemble throughout, though Boseman and Davis do get the showiest roles that will command everyone's attention.

The ending feels perhaps a bit abrupt and stage-y to me, a bit manufactured of a need for some big finish. But despite that, I found this a strong movie and an easy inclusion on my Top Movies of 2020 list. I give Ma Rainey's Black Bottom a B+.

That Hope Is You, Part 2

The finale to season three of Star Trek: Discovery was a breathless action-packed affair I found mostly satisfying -- if also often illogical.

As Michael Burnham and the bridge crew fight to retake their ship from Osyraa and her goons, Saru and his away team try to help Su'Kal come to terms with his traumatic past... without triggering an emotional outburst that would jeopardize everything.

There was a ton of action in this final hour, but as well-staged and expertly filmed as it mostly was, it was all frankly quite dumb in a variety of ways. As Osyraa flees in the opening teaser, an entire HQ full of Starfleet ships all firing on Discovery for several minutes can't take it out? (I mean, even before Admiral Vance agrees to let it go -- a decision I cannot imagine him making, given the stakes.) The epic fistfights atop moving turbolift cars were visual nonsense -- why would there be all this empty space inside the ship, and how does that conform to what we know the outward appearance of the ship to be? In the confrontation in the data core, why does Osyraa think she's killed Burnham after shoving her into that "Superman III computer wall?" (And why hasn't she, other than "Burnham is the star of the show?")

These sorts of holes in the plot were hardly confined to the action sequences. Osyraa's swing back to villainy seemed as hard and as unmotivated as her swing away from it in the previous episode. And after being established as an important character last week, Aurellio had absolutely nothing to do with saving the day this week; it seems he was only being positioned as a regular fixture for next season? (Good thing the computer somehow knew not to beam him away when Burnham ordered it to get rid of all the bad guys!)

Still, the episode was not bad on balance, because the more personal content mostly landed well. Having Hugh (and Saru) be able to see Gray Tal was an element that made the whole gymnastics of the hologram environment worth it. Watching the death of Su'Kal's mother was moving, even if it was a moment we all could anticipate. (Bill Irwin really was a strong guest star as Su'Kal.) The return of the lonely, loyal character Sahil from the season premiere was a lovely accent. So was the quote from Gene Roddenberry that capped the entire episode.

Things also seem set up interestingly for season four. The writers will no doubt craft another season-long arc, though I do like the way the table seems set for more self-contained stories if they want them. Michael Burnham finally getting the big chair? About damn time. And Paul Stamets seems setup for a big crisis of self: he's no longer as unique as he once believed himself -- not necessarily the best scientist/engineer on the ship (with Jet Reno around) and not the only way of operating the spore drive (with Book around). That leaves him his family... but he almost lost that, and blames Michael Burnham for it. Stamets is gonna need a ship's counselor.

I'd give the season finale a B... and the season as a whole probably about the same. I love the direction of the show overall, but certain episodes and plot twists were rather rough around the edges. Even so, what a great time to be a Star Trek fan! There hasn't been this much new stuff to watch in decades, and it's been generally quite good. For now, I'm stuffed after a huge meal. But I'll soon be hungry again and looking forward to more.

Some Much Needed Improv-ment

Remember in the Before Times, when we had live theater and comedy? Netflix remembers, in the form of a few one-hour specials titled (and starring) Middleditch and Schwartz. Although there are only three of these, they're a wonderful time capsule and signpost for the future.

Middleditch is Thomas Middleditch, whom you may know best as Richard on Silicon Valley. Schwartz is Ben Schwartz, whom you may know best as Jean-Ralphio on Parks and Recreation. The two of them have a lot of experience in improv both separately and as a duo, and had been in the midst of a nationwide tour when theater venues shut down for the pandemic. Three of their performances had been recorded, though, and were released in April on Netflix.

Each episode (if that's even the right term for it) begins with an audience suggestion of an upcoming event someone is looking forward to or dreading. A short interview with that audience member ensues, eliciting a few "characters" and details to jump start the proceedings. And then away they go with a long-form improv one-act play.

Some people don't like improv. (Saying you don't seems to be pop culture currency.) To be sure, there's a lot of bad improv out there. But this is not that. Maybe you've seen a few episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway? -- but this is not that either. Whose Line can certainly be good for a few quick laughs, but its game-oriented structure can be very hit or miss, and usually devolves into one-upsmanship in short order.

Middleditch and Schwartz keep the aim on gags, but they also actually care about telling a (mostly) coherent story as they go. They populate the narrative with several characters (and often switch off playing the same character), and try to bring basic story structure to their performance. To me, it's more satisfying than an ephemeral game premise that lasts only a few minutes. It's richer comedically too, allowing for more callbacks, invention, and clever connections.

If you're completely against improv for whatever reason, this probably won't change your mind. Plenty of improv shenanigans are still in play here: cornering a scene partner into something ridiculous, breaking the fourth wall for a laugh (that may be more for themselves than the audience), and only loosely inhabiting any given character. But these two guys are really, really good at this. They had been scheduled to come to Denver last summer -- an event I probably would have missed had I not first seen these specials. Now, I can look for their possible return to touring in the After Times and plan for tickets.

The three episodes are ordered by Netflix from what I'd call best to "worst," but all three have multiple laugh-out-loud moments throughout. I tried to make them last, and I'm not really a "binge watcher," but you can only pace three one-hour shows so far. In any case, I thought they provided some much needed laughs.

I give the Middleditch and Schwartz specials an A-. If improv is at all your thing, you should check them out. (And maybe one day, there will be more than just the three of them.)

The Vast of Night -- A Lot More Night Than Vast

It's arguably exaggerated how many listeners were convinced by Orson Welles' War of the Worlds that an actual alien invasion was happening. Regardless, that radio broadcast remains famous and infamous. It is clearly an influence on the recent film The Vast of Night.

Set in a small New Mexico town in the 1950s, the movie follows two teenagers, disc jockey Everett and telephone switchboard operator Fay, on a night when a mysterious radio signal cuts into local broadcasts. They run all about town in search of answers, interacting with a handful of people as most of the locals watch a local basketball game in blissful ignorance.

The Vast of Night is very much like a radio drama in tone. The performances feel deliberately pitched just a half-notch above "natural," the characters are written with throwback personalities that seem even more dated than the period trappings, and the storytelling is very audio-centric and doesn't depend on visuals to advance the plot. The War of the Worlds inspiration is deliberate, and the movie wants to make damn sure you know it. (The radio station's call letters are WOTW.)

The movie is also heavily inspired by The Twilight Zone, and it shows this too. A framing device of at times showing the action on a tube television with scan lines and Rod Serling-style narration is used to essentially teach the audience how the movie would prefer it be watched. And if this isn't enough conspicuous filmmaking for you, director Andrew Patterson goes one step farther with his camera work: the movie is filled with long, single takes. Some are unbroken showcases for the actors to simply talk, others are elaborately choreographed dances with the camera.

In terms of style, the film is a wonder. But is it any good? That's a much harder question for me to answer. I found it engaging in times, and yet fairly predictable throughout. I was at times pulled into caring about the characters, even as some of the style choices seemed determined to keep me at arm's length. I wasn't wild about the ending, but I did mostly enjoy the journey.

I'm not usually one to go for a "style over substance" kind of movie. But mostly, I went for this one. I don't know if that makes it a really good "style over substance" movie or a really bad one, if you're a viewer usually into that sort of thing. I can only say that I'd grade The Vast of Night a B. Which is probably good enough to put in on my "Best of 2020" movie list -- for a short while, anyway. It's the sort of movie that will surely get bumped once I've seen enough other contenders.

DS9 Flashback: The Changing Face of Evil

The final arc of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine continues with "The Changing Face of Evil."

With the Breen now allied with the Dominion, the Federation is threatened as never before. But help is coming from Damar, who has begun to build his resistance movement on Cardassia. Meanwhile, Kai Winn and Dukat try to crack the mystery of an ancient book of the Pah-wraiths.

This is an interesting episode of Deep Space Nine in that it focuses almost entirely on the "villains." The lines between guest star and main cast are, of course, rather blurred by this point of the series... but it's still fairly unusual that the scenes with our heroes in this episode aren't generally the ones most furthering the narrative.

Then again, Damar is more or less a "hero" now, by typical narrative rules. Even Weyoun sees (but misattributes) the difference. Still, Damar has a lot to learn about how difficult this will be. He imagines a quick victory or two will inflame all the planet against the Dominion and spur them to rise up in opposition. Until Damar learns, though, he has a new underling character in Rusot to take on his former drunken and surly role in the plot.

Kai Winn learns a lot in this episode too: specifically that throwing in with demons requires paying a blood price. Though she's been amassing power for a long time, she's always avoided making anything remotely like a personal sacrifice. Her political machinations have no doubt hurt people before, but murdering someone by your own hand is a different matter -- and a longtime friend at that (or, at least, the closest thing Winn has to a friend). Winn also must choose to persist in her path even after learning that her guide all this time has been Gul Dukat. It's a path to more power, though, so there's no chance Winn is going to turn away from it.

The regular characters aren't wholly absent from the episode, of course. There's a small but fun subplot exploring Sisko and Kasidy Yates' new marriage. Each oversteps their boundaries within the relationship and must make amends with the other. (Ben's transgression in messing with his wife's job seems worse than Kasidy's failed attempt at cooking. Then again... she does waste his good peppers and uses metal tongs on a non-stick pan, so...) Another romance is also at play in this episode two: the thread between Ezri Dax and Julian Bashir continues to be woven in. Worf finally shows some maturity and encourages Ezri to pursue Julian if that's what will make her happy.

Overall, all the elements I've mentioned are given appropriate breathing room within both the episode and the final arc as a whole -- things simmer in a satisfying way without feeling slow paced. But there's one element here that feels rushed to me: the destruction of the Defiant. From the beginning of the battle to the loss of the ship feels like less than 60 seconds of screen time. One moment, they're taking out Breen ships; the next moment, they've sustained damage that doesn't seem like it's beyond the reach of a normal Treknobabble solution... and yet Sisko is making the call to abandon ship.

Part of the reason the actual battle feels rushed is that the time that might have been spent there is instead given to a more subtle goodbye to the ship, a lengthy sequence of preparing the Defiant to leave the station, full of "submarine movie" type chatter. I think this is meant to be the real goodbye. (Though honestly, I have a hard time feeling much of a loss here, in retrospect at least. They wind up replacing the Defiant too quickly and easily before the end of the series.)

Other observations:

• In interviews, actor Marc Alaimo has often talked about what he saw as the nobler aspects of Gul Dukat; any good actor playing a villain is obliged not to think of their character as a villain. But there is a fun moment in this episode that's all malice: Dukat is creeping up on the sleeping Winn and regards her with obvious disdain for just a few moments before affixing his mask of sweetness back in place.

• The Alamo has been a running gag on the show for quite some time now. This episode is the closest we'll ever get to seeing it, in the form of the elaborate "tabletop minis" version O'Brien builds. It's also the closest thematic connection the Alamo has with events in the story -- the last stand at the fort mirroring the last stand of the Defiant. (And the loss of the "Travis" figure a clear bad omen for what's to come.)

The loss of the Defiant doesn't land as hard for me on the rewatch as it did the first time I watched the series. And I think so much of the impact is relying on that one element that the episode doesn't rate as highly for me as others in this final run. I give "The Changing Face of Evil" a B.

Who We Are

After the events yesterday in Washington DC, it hardly seems appropriate for me to just have another "pop culture post of the day" here. And yet, my ongoing mental processing of what happened has yet to yield much that feels worth saying. So instead, I'll repeat (and embellish on) something I saw somewhere that resonated deeply with me.

Right now, I do not want to hear the phrase "this isn't who we are."

Joe Biden ran his campaign on the premise of bringing the country together. That "theory of the case" garnered the most votes, proving it was indeed the message more Americans wanted to hear. And inasmuch as this is the United States of America, unity is indeed what we need. But we also need to acknowledge reality.

President Obama always maintained an outstretched hand -- even when it was unceremoniously slapped away. That's almost certainly the way he needed to play it too; white privilege is still an unfair constraint even on a person of color who has risen to the highest office in the country. (How much worse would the backlash against him have been had he not been unfailingly level-headed?)

President Biden, on the other hand, needs to first try for unity. Then when he meets resistance (when, not if), he needs to use the power given him (thank you, Georgia; congratulations, Warnock and Ossoff!) to get the job done. And to have any hope of fixing the problem, it must be properly diagnosed.

It's okay to say "this is not who we should be" or "we cannot continue like this." But America: this is absolutely who we are. This happened here. And you can guarantee it will happen again if we pretend the political landscape right now isn't a drought-afflicted forest in which people are running around with matches. We cannot ignore these arsonists; we must disarm them.

The violence, the destruction, the deaths that resulted from yesterday's riots were enough to make a few Republicans change their tunes (and their votes) when they reconvened in the evening to complete the ceremonial certification of the election results. But too many of these members of Congress persisted in their theater of useless objections, which could really serve only one of three possible purposes:

1) They truly believed the election had been stolen from Trump. In which case, they are so divorced from facts and reality that they are hopelessly lost. You will never be able to pierce their media bubble and "reach across the aisle" to these people.

2) They have aspirations for higher political office in the future, and have calculated that this is the move they need to make for that to happen. In which case, they are appealing to the very mob that did this, and are thus explicitly working to ensure something like it will happen again.

3) They're playing for the approval of Donald Trump. In which case, they're seeking adoration from the unreciprocating narcissist who incited the mob to violence.

None of these three motives is acceptable. The flames these people are stoking must be completely starved of oxygen, or they will burn everything down. And yet, these people are very much "who we are" right now in America.

If we do not acknowledge that reality, it is who we will continue to be.

Dealing With the Dead

As film critics have been releasing their many "best of 2020" lists, I've been careful to note titles showing up with regularity. One is a documentary available on Netflix called Dick Johnson Is Dead, from Kirsten Johnson (who worked on Citizenfour and others before taking the director's reins herself).

The genesis of Dick Johnson Is Dead came when Kirsten Johnson's father began to show signs of Alzheimer's disease. Kirsten had lost her mother (Dick's wife) to the same disease a decade earlier, and had seen firsthand how a loved one can become lost in another sense, even before actual death. This documentary serves as a response, a coping mechanism. It's a form of stoic gallows humor, staging a variety of alterative accidental deaths for the cameras, ways that might claim Dick's life while leaving his dignity more intact. As the film is made over the course of years, Dick Johnson's memory slowly deteriorates, and the notion of using him as an actor in a variety of his own staged deaths looks increasingly cruel.

This movie is not as hard to watch as you might imagine. Dick Johnson is a truly warm and bright soul, and the way he and Kirsten confront reality brings a surprising lightness to the proceedings. It's genuinely funny at times.

Nevertheless, you see a clear deterioration of Dick's mental faculties over the course of the film's 90 minutes. Though there may be moments of lightness, that unyielding fact is still not going to be easy to watch, and harder still for anyone who has actually lost a loved one to dementia. There are powerful moments throughout the film that expose the audience to this reality. In these moments, Dick Johnson Is Dead is fairly universal and easy to empathize with.

But this movie is also one way of facing Alzheimer's, and a possibly odd and definitely flamboyant one at that. To the degree this gives Dick or Kirsten any comfort, I don't begrudge them that. To the degree that it sometimes feels like watching a stranger's home movies, my personal engagement with this film waned at times.

I also did not engage with the movie on another level that the critics seem to be crowing about. Most of the people rating Dick Johnson Is Dead the highest are praising the way it explores "integrity in documentary filmmaking" -- questions of whether a documentary is too often manipulated by its director, whether the very act of observing it with the camera alters what's being documented, and so forth.

As Kirsten Johnson herself is very much a participant in this documentary and not just a chronicler, I don't feel like these questions run especially deep in this case. It is certainly a question whether Kirsten is inflicting harm on her own father for the sake of making a movie, but I'm not convinced this movie digs in all that deeply on the subject. It's perhaps there if you want to excavate it, but I feel that the most enamored critics are praising the experience for not "spoon-feeding" you answers, where I feel like it barely suggests much of an answer at all.

There are absolutely moments in Dick Johnson Is Dead that moved me. Overall though, I find it hard to recommend -- and harder still, given the subject matter. I'd give it a C+. Many critics have it on their Top 10 of 2020 lists, but it wouldn't make mine.

There Is a Tide...

With just one more episode to go in season three, Star Trek: Discovery is set up to do what it has always done and sprint to the finish. But what did I think of the latest episode, There Is a Tide... ?

With the senior staff held hostage, Osyraa breeches Starfleet Headquarters and... proposes a diplomatic negotiation between them and the Emerald Chain. Meanwhile, Michael Burnham sneaks around the ship trying to free Stamets and put the operation of the spore drive out of enemy reach.

While I did like this episode for the most part, it certainly showcased a lot of elements that for me fell a little short of the mark. My summary of the episode, in most ways, would be: "OK, I like what you're going for, but..."

Take the return of early season baddie Zareh. I enjoyed his unnuanced mustache twirling the first time around, and when he was released at the end of that previous episode, I totally thought "we'll be seeing him again later." And then I promptly forgot about him. Osyraa is supposed to be the Bigger Bad, of course, but in showing her more this season (and seeing her do worse things), Zareh was easily forgotten over time. Now that he's back, I'm not sure I'm invested enough to be excited for the come-uppance Tilly is likely to serve him in the season's final episode. And yet... I still expect it'll be fun.

How about the sudden character turn for Osyraa? I really love the idea, so very Star Trek, that the ultimate villain's plan goes off without a hitch... and it's a peace overture. That an apocalypse could come, fracture everything, and then people will find a way to rebuild -- it's such an appropriate message for both the franchise, and the current moment. And yet... Osyraa has to be kind of an idiot to not realize she could have knocked on the door and got what she wanted with less overt evil. This is Starfleet we're talking about, the galaxy's ultimate Charlie-Brown-running-at-the-football-one-more-time organization. They would have listened. So this makes for a fun plot twist that I personally think is dramatically "correct," just handled a bit goofily.

I liked the introduction of the character of Aurellio. He's an interesting exercise in showing what kind of scientist might end up working for an utter monster. He's also more diversity, showing a character with a disability, in a show that works to show as much diversity as possible. But to the degree he's probably also being set up to be part of Osyraa's downfall, I do sort of wish he'd been introduced to us earlier -- he's Chekhov's Gun shown not in Act I, but halfway through Act III.

All season, nearly all of Stamets' scenes have been with Hugh and Adira, and I've previously groused that all the LGBT characters were being siloed off in their own storyline. I see what they were going for now: it was a long-term strategy to de-curmudgeon Stamets and give him a family to be invested in, leading to this moment when that's all threatened to be taken from him. I like the idea, and like that they planned ahead. And yet, when Stamets said in this episode "I have a child," my immediate response was that "oh, he's bluffing to try and find common ground with this guy," not thinking he was being at all sincere.

Ultimately, I think it comes down to the character and casting of Adira -- who has seemed too adult and too capable to really need "parenting" to me. Even the relationship with Gray, no doubt meant to show Adira's vulnerability, has to me shown maturity and complexity. So basically: I have enjoyed Adira very much this season, but I don't think the "story puzzle piece" of Adira has fit in neatly in the way the writers intended.

Even some of the smaller details fit my "I like what you're going for, but..." thesis. We all knew they were going for Die Hard before the explicit homage of Michael Burnham winding up barefoot, right? And I've always enjoyed the flashy camera work whenever Jonathan Frakes directs, but it got a bit too "Sea Dragon" for me this week, as it constantly swayed back and forth like one of those amusement park rides.

And yet, what I hope isn't lost in all my quibbles is the part before the "but": I like what they're going for. Watching the bridge crew break out of captivity was fun. Watching Book lay it all on the line to help everyone felt like a great culmination of his season-long character arc. Wondering what's happening back in the nebula with the characters we didn't see this week made for nice tension. I think there's going to be a lot of fun action with meaningful stakes in the final episode.

So, overall, I'd probably give this episode a B. It's just that I feel like some A ideas were in the mix and not quite handled with that skill. Maybe they'll step it up for the finale.

2020 in Review -- Movies

It shouldn't surprise anyone that I saw far fewer movies in 2020 than I did the year before. I saw just 41 movies in 2020, which is the fewest in any year since I started keeping track.

It also shouldn't surprise anyone how few of those movies I actually saw in a theater: just two for the entire year. (Both were back in January, catching up on 2019 movies that were likely to be in the Oscar hunt, 1917 and Parasite. The latter won Best Picture, so... uh... yeah, it was in the hunt.) If you could have told me at the start of the year that I'd go a movie theater just twice in all of 2020, I actually would have assumed some calamity on the horizon -- probably personal rather than global, but I would have suspected/dreaded it all the same.

It wasn't only "not being able to go out to the movies" that kept my count so low this year. I spent a pretty big chunk of my entertainment time on TV shows instead -- keeping current with favorites, sampling new series, and going back to catch up on a good number of things people buzzed about a while back. Obviously, a season of TV takes longer to get through than a movie. (In the case of a long-running hit, it takes a whole lot longer.) Still, I'd seen fully 1/4 of my movies for the year by the end of February, the widely accepted "end of pre-pandemic times."

Although most major studio films were delayed, plenty of new movies were still released in 2020, often exclusively to one of the many streaming services the pop-culture savvy are now expected to keep. In a way, this wide array of options created a sort of "analysis paralysis" about what to watch. No sooner had I heard about one potentially worthy film than three more would pop up on the radar. So rather than trying my luck on one and hoping for the best, I'd often wind up watching none of them, opting instead for the next episode of Dark, Atypical, The Goes Wrong Show, Harley Quinn, What We Do in the Shadows, Schitt's Creek, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Devs... I believe you get the point. (I thought every one of the shows an A or A-, to say nothing of many more shows I thought almost as good.)

Long story short (too late), I haven't even seen 10 movies yet that were released in 2020. And not all of the ones I did see were good. So the idea of a conventional "Top 10 List" as I usually do doesn't make a lot of sense right now. In a few months, if I make an effort at catching up, maybe. For now, though, it'll be a much more modest "Top 3 List" -- three movies I have seen that would almost certainly still make a Top 10 List even if I'd watched more:

1. Soul
2. Onward
3. Palm Springs
   

Yes, two of them are Pixar movies. That's just the way it is.

I'll probably revisit this post at some point and revise it into a more conventional Top 10. Maybe you can help in that endeavor by suggesting great 2020 movies you saw. (It'll get me jump-started on a better total count for 2021.)

 

Updated March 1, 2022:

1. Soul
2. Happiest Season
   
3. Onward
4. A Quiet Place Part II
   
5. Palm Springs
6. Ma Rainey's Black Bottom 
7. The Trial of the Chicago 7
8. Promising Young Woman
   
9. Da 5 Bloods
   
10. Sound of Metal
    

2020 in Review -- Games

There are a couple of January traditions I have here on the blog: looking back on both the board games I played and the movies I saw in the just-completed year. Unsurprisingly, COVID-19 has had a big impact on both, making for a lot of the former, and far less of the latter.

I wound up playing more board games in 2020 for two major reasons. First, during stay-at-home orders, my friends and I looked online (as so many did), using sites like Board Game Arena to keep connected and keep playing. About a third of the games I played in 2020 were played online.

Of course, even with Zoom, an online game isn't always going to feel like a reasonable substitute for an in-person gaming experience. I had plenty of those too: two player games with my husband, games with the same close circle of people... and a ton of games on a group ski trip back in innocent, long-ago February before any of us knew what was about to hit.

I played 404 games in 2020. (That's not an internet error.) This is a huge leap from the 261 games of 2019, and could be counted as even more if not for a big asterisk that I'll get to in a moment (besides the qualifier I always mention, that playtest games I played for work aren't included in my total). I played 108 different titles over the course of the year -- give or take counting a game played with and without its expansion(s) as separate things.

The game I played the most was The Crew: Quest for Planet Nine. And I mean by far the most, because the 35 plays I logged were "sessions." This campaign game asks you to overcome a series of 50 missions, and you could log each mission attempt (which takes perhaps 10 minutes at most) as a "play," win or lose. Had I counted that way, I'd have logged well over 200 plays of this one game alone. In any case, The Crew is a game that keeps on giving, a game that I'm happy to play pretty much any time -- even though I've played through all 50 missions at least once. (I had some reservations in my original review about it not supporting a 3-player count as well, but it's a minor quibble. This game is an absolute gem, an A, one of the best to be released in years.)

Can't Stop emerged in second because it's quite easy and fast to play online (while waiting for friends to "arrive" for an arranged Zoom/BGA gaming session).

The high number of Charterstone plays came from playing two complete and separate legacy campaigns of that game. I also completed Legacy campaigns of The King's Dilemma and Pandemic Legacy: Season 2 (while starting Season 0 and a replay of The Rise of Queensdale). Plus there were the two campaign-like expansions to Harry Potter: Hogwarts Battle. It turns out that campaign games are easier to get through when you're limiting in-person contacts and seeing the same people over and over again.

Favorite "new to me" games in 2020 include Brass (Birmingham or Lancashire), Pandemic Legacy: Season 2 (I'd gladly play it again, despite knowing the story), The King's Dilemma, Roll for the Galaxy (though that's actually smoother on Board Game Arena than in person), and those Hogwarts Battle expansions. And, of course, The Crew.

Here are all the stats:

35    The Crew: The Quest for Planet Nine
30    Can't Stop
25    Charterstone
20    7 Wonders
18    Roll for the Galaxy
18    The King's Dilemma
13    Between Two Castles of Mad King Ludwig
13    Pandemic Legacy: Season 2
13    Secret Hitler
12    6 nimmt!
12    The Rise of Queensdale
11    Hanabi
11    Harry Potter: Hogwarts Battle - The Monster Box of Monsters
10    Wingspan
7    Pandemic Legacy: Season 0
7    Tobago
6    Las Vegas
6    The Taverns of Tiefenthal
4    Dune: Imperium
4    Harry Potter: Hogwarts Battle - The Charms and Potions Expansion
4    Stone Age
4    Twice As Clever
3    Bad Bones
3    Battlestar Galactica: The Board Game
3    Broom Service
3    Escape Tales: Low Memory
3    For Sale
3    Leo
3    Merlin
3    Telestrations After Dark
3    Tzolk'in: The Mayan Calendar
3    Yokohama
2    Caylus
2    Clans of Caledonia
2    Codenames
2    Concordia
2    In the Year of the Dragon
2    Letter Jam
2    Obscurio
2    Orleans
2    Poker
2    Prêt-à-Porter
2    Roam
2    The Mind
2    The Mind Extreme
2    The Quacks of Quedlinburg
2    Viticulture
1    13 Clues
1    Aggravation
1    AquaSphere
1    Awkward Guests
1    Back to the Future: Back in Time
1    Brass: Birmingham
1    Brass: Lancashire
1    Cartagena
1    Castles of Mad King Ludwig
1    Clank! A Deck-Building Adventure
1    Clank! Adventuring Party
1    Coloma
1    Custom Heroes
1    Dead of Winter
1    Deckscape: The Mystery of Eldorado
1    Decrypto
1    Detroit-Cleveland Grand Prix
1    Dice Hospital
1    Dice Throne: Season One
1    Everdell
1    Exit: The Game – The Forgotten Island
1    Grand Austria Hotel
1    Great Western Trail
1    Hawaii
1    Istanbul
1    Jorvik
1    Just One
1    Luxor
1    Marvel Champions: The Card Game
1    Master Word
1    Metro
1    Perudo
1    Plunderbund
1    Point Salad
1    Potion Explosion
1    Puerto Rico
1    Raiders of the North Sea
1    Root
1    Saboteur
1    Sagrada
1    Sonora
1    Sorcerer City
1    Stop Thief!
1    Super-Skill Pinball: 4-Cade
1    Tasty Humans
1    Teotihuacan: City of Gods
1    Terra Mystica
1    Terraforming Mars
1    The Builders: Antiquity
1    The Castles of Burgundy
1    The Princes of Florence
1    The Resistance: Avalon
1    The Speicherstadt
1    The Voyages of Marco Polo
1    Tigris and Euphrates
1    Time's Up -- Title Recall
1    Trajan
1    TransAmerica
1    Unlock!: Exotic Adventures – Night of the Boogeymen
1    Vikings
1    When I Dream

Until vaccines for COVID-19 are widely distributed, 2021 is going to look pretty much the same as 2020. So I expect to play a lot more games -- again online and/or with the same few people. There are worse things than playing more games...