Voyager Flashback: Before and After

When Star Trek fans evangelize the franchise to non-Trekkers, they often mention how great episodes of the show package moral parables in a science fiction wrapper. But not all of the fan favorite installments have such lofty aspirations. "Before and After" is often cited as one of Star Trek: Voyager's best episodes, and it simply features a straightforward sci-fi problem to solve.

It's the moment of 9-year-old Kes' death. She has no memories of her life, not even of the daughter and grandson by her side. But then she flashes to another time and place. She's hopping backwards through time, and must explain the problem to the crew of Voyager and hope they can help her escape.

To dissipate any tension right now, I don't think this is Top 10 Voyager; for me, it would barely make the Top 10 I've seen so far in this rewatch, and I still have more than half the series to go. But no, it isn't bad, and yes, it is fun. This is Voyager's version of a "Future Imperfect" or perhaps a "Children of Time" -- the more you're invested in the characters, the more fun you find it to get a tantalizing glimpse of what their future might be like. I myself am far less invested in the Voyager characters than those of The Next Generation or Deep Space Nine, and so, predictably, I'm less swept up in this story.

But it is a clever into "time travel problem" that Star Trek hadn't presented before. (And it should be pointed out, this episode was made before the movie Memento -- which, while not a time travel story, is famously premised on a backwards narrative.) Kes is a particularly fun character to have hopping backward through her life, since from the day we've met her, we've been told exactly how short a time that life will last.

The episode effectively introduces new characters and makes us care about them in a short time. Kes has a nice rapport with her grandson, and a good scene with her daughter (easing her anxieties about parenthood). We're given plenty of fun "what ifs," from the delicious awkwardness of Harry Kim as Tom Paris' son-in-law, to a Doctor with hair and a name, to a Captain Chakotay, to Neelix as a full-fledged security officer (now that's science fiction!). More fun fan service happens in a brief flashback to the pilot episode, and then a glimpse of a young Kes before even that. Most importantly, the relationship between Tom and Kes does work to give some emotional stakes to the whole.

But if you have any doubts that this episode is really just here to have fun, that's confirmed by how little the premise holds up to any scrutiny. We're told why Kes is traveling backward through time, but given no rhyme or reason to how long she stays in one place or why she jumps as far as she does each time. (The answers to these questions: she goes where/when the plot needs her to, as it needs her to.) There's also no explanation for why, when she reaches the beginning of her life, she just starts going forward through it again like a yo-yo. Plus, to make sure everyone knows this was "just for funsies," we're explicitly told in the end that the future Kes saw is just one possible future, now likely to be different.

Other observations:

• The old age makeup on Kes in the early (later?) scenes is reasonably effective, especially when you consider that Jennifer Lien was in her early 20s at the time.

• There's speculation that Old Kes is experiencing "morilogium." More "Elogium?" Please no.

• Tom Paris at one point mentions the past deaths of Janeway, Joe Carey, and B'Elanna. Forget how odd it is to be bringing up a minor character we haven't seen since season one. It's truly weird to name anybody in between Janeway and B'Elanna, since we see their deaths later in the episode, and they happen at exactly the same time.
  

• Though most of this episode's future never comes to pass, the mention of the "Year of Hell" and the Krenim is something the show would revisit later. The writers were actually planning at this time for what they thought would be their season three cliffhanger and season four opener... though subsequently the decision to bring a new character onto the series delayed all that.

• Kes has a new hairstyle starting in this episode, and while you might expect "oh, that's only for the future scenes," the long hair is actually here to stay. This was reportedly because Jennifer Lien had developed an allergic reaction to the makeup of her Ocampan ears, and the long hair was a workaround so that she would only rarely have to apply it.

"Before and After" is reasonably fun. But like I said, it's probably more fun to someone who rates Voyager more higher in general in the Star Trek canon. I give it it a B. (The episode, not the series.)

Other's Day

These days, it's impossible to stay atop the pile of worthy television recommendations that your friends eagerly shovel your way. I get it. Still, I find it a lot easier to make room from a half-hour comedy. And so, in that spirit (and with that non-apology), let me tell you about The Other Two.

When young teen "ChaseDreams" becomes an overnight sensation from his viral music video, his adult siblings Brooke and Cary have to grapple with the fact that they keep working hard for a fraction of the success while getting nowhere. Sounds bleak? Well, as they say, "comedy is when it happens to someone else."

I think whether you vibe to The Other Two may have a lot to do with whether you enjoy sitcoms like Seinfeld, in which the characters (though they make you laugh) aren't actually very nice people. A few episodes into The Other Two, and you'll soon learn that when it comes to the shortcomings in Brooke and Cary's professional and social lives, they're their own worst enemies.

Still, The Other Two is not following a strict formula in which the main characters always self-sabotage and never get anywhere. The series actually packs quite a lot of overarching narrative into its (so far) two 10-episode seasons. Cary navigates the ups and downs of his acting career while Brooke tries to figure out exactly what it is she wants to do... while both complain to each other about how there are no good guys to date. And always running in the background of their struggles is the effortless chain of successes of their famous brother.

There are plenty of jokes, though. Social media is skewered on a regular basis (and never more so than when we get to see ChaseDreams' next ridiculous music video). Low self-awareness and clever wordplay informs most of the tone. And while most people won't know stars Heléne Yorke and Drew Tarver before this (great though they are), the "bench" of this show runs deep: Ken Marino and Molly Shannon are in the regular cast; Brandon Scott Jones, Wanda Sykes, Richard Kind, and Gideon Glick recur; while guest stars have included a long roster of known comedians and more serious actors popping in to have a little fun as "themselves."

Season one of The Other Two was made for Comedy Central, affecting both the content and the episode length (they're all a tight 20-few minutes to leave room for commercials). Season two moved to HBO Max (where you can stream all episodes now), opening things up for raunchier content and slightly longer run times (even while the show kept things short and sweet). Both seasons are fun, and I'm looking forward to the announced season three.

I'd give The Other Two a B+. If you'd enjoy watching the concept of "fame" take regular kicks to the crotch, this show is for you.

Voyager Flashback: Favorite Son

Both Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Voyager would often serve up the kind of episode the original Star Trek was known for: veiling some modern moral parable in the trappings of science fiction. Other times, they'd serve up another kind of episode the original Star Trek was known for: dressing women in skimpy outfits to depict a straight male utopia. "Favorite Son" is one of the latter.

Harry Kim begins experiencing deja vu and innate memories that soon escalate to DNA re-sequencing and overt physical changes: it seems he's actually an alien! He's drawn to his home planet of Taresia, where he's welcomed sensually into a society that's over 90% female. But there's a secret truth in Taresian society, and to their story of Kim's origins.

I was shocked to read about the original premise behind this episode: Harry Kim really was an alien, and that once that was discovered in this episode, he would remain one for the rest of the series! That story apparently got as far as a script (which actor Garrett Wang was thrilled to read), before the Powers That Be predictably chickened out on making any lasting, meaningful change to the character. That raison d'être, that life force, was sucked out of the heart of the episode... and replaced with a tale of alien women looking to suck the life force out of Harry Kim. From there, network executives reportedly called for even more action and more sex, resulting in this weirdly 1960s feeling Star Trek episode.

"Favorite Son" isn't quite offensive, but it sure does get silly. Multiple women are pawing on Harry Kim in every dialogue-freighted scene on the alien planet (a sort of network-friendly precursor to the "sexposition" of Game of Thrones?). Paris, Neelix, and Kim himself all have frat house style moments delighting in the whole scenario. Working actor Patrick Fabian is on hand, coaching Harry to relax and just be horny. There's safe-for-90s-TV bondage play. Kim has a Freudian dream in which his "boss" at work becomes his mother.

I suppose you can argue that there's something empowering in the real scheme of the alien women here, to ensnare men, lower their guard, then drain them until they're dead husks. But that scheme doesn't really hold up to any scrutiny. If their society is advanced enough to genetically engineer a virus that converts others into members of their own species, all while eluding detection and implanting genetic memories, then surely they're capable of some easier way to science their way out of their global population problem?

Silly as the whole is, there are a few nice moments sprinkled throughout. When Harry commandeers Voyager to attack an alien ship, Janeway puts just the right stank on every line spoken to him thereafter. That Harry's actions almost get B'Elanna killed leads to yet another nice scene between the two (which, for the umpteenth time, convinces me those two would have made a better romantic pairing than B'Elanna and Tom Paris).

Other observations:

• Taresian makeup is far too similar to Trills.

• Taresian silverware seems like some sort of strange medical forceps.

• I maintain that this episode felt dated even at the time it first aired. But one moment that feels especially dated now: Harry explaining that human marriage is "between one woman and one man." (At least he says "usually.")
  

• A few recognizable sci-fi faces: Patricia Tallman (from Babylon 5) often did stunt work on Star Trek and does so again here, while Kristanna S. Loken would later play the T-X in Terminator 3.
  

This is a ridiculous episode, but it is occasionally a fun kind of ridiculous. At the risk of seeming an apologist for it, I think I'll give it a C+. For "bad Star Trek," it's actually kind of watchable, never committing the ultimate sin of being "boring."

Ritely So?

Periodically, I've blogged about my slow progress through The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher. I've gone from generally liking them at first to more recently realizing that the formula might not be for me. Of course, I know that no one is making me continue with these books, and there are plenty of other books out there to read... but basically, a very specific reason pulled me along to book six.

Several of my friends have enjoyed the Dresden books, and one of the highlights they mention is the audiobook performances by actor James Marsters. (We were all big fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer back in the day.) My husband also started reading the Dresden books at roughly the same time I did, enjoying them more, and consequently proceeding through them much faster. The high praise of our friends, combined with the fact that he generally listens to more audiobooks than I do, synced up at book seven. That's the point where he decided to buy the audiobook version of the next Dresden novel... and he never looked back. My husband concurred: Marsters was great, perhaps even the best audiobook performer he'd ever listened to (and he's heard a lot more than I have). That tantalizing endorsement was coupled with this suggestion: if I'd finish reading book six (which we'd already bought for e-reader), he'd be more than willing to listen to book seven again with me.

But I had to get through book six first. And I have to say, a few chapters into Blood Rites, I thought I was never going to make it.

I've gradually come to feel that Harry Dresden himself is the least interesting character in the Dresden Files. (That's unfortunate, as the books are all told from his first-person perspective.) Among his long list of grating traits, the one that trips me up the most is how persistently horny he is. Every chapter is littered with off-putting digressions about his skeevy libido. So imagine my disdain when introduced to the premise of Blood Rites: Harry Dresden is hired to work undercover on the set of a porno movie. Ugh.

The model of a Dresden novel has developed by this book to put two or three parallel jeopardies in motion all at once, so there were other plot threads in the mix here. But for the first half of the book, Jim Butcher really wasn't that interested in the side plots; the "working on a porno movie" plot took center stage. And I could barely stand it. It took all my willpower to get through one chapter every two or three days at best. I wasn't sure I could take one more sentence of being inside Harry Dresden's head.

But somehow, I did eventually power through. And remarkably, it eventually did seem to be worth it. The back half of Blood Rites ends up developing into a murder mystery with supernatural trappings, and it delves into more of Dresden's back story than any book before. Better still, the book makes excellent use of established recurring characters in the Dresden universe, particularly police officer Karrin Murphy (who has long been a bright spot of the series for me) and vampire Thomas (who I understand is a favorite with many fans, and now I begin to see why). Blood Rites managed to serve up a reasonably satisfying "solution" to the mystery, and at the same time it seemed to introduce more lasting consequences for Dresden than any book so far: issues that later books will have to engage with and develop.

In short, the first half of the book was, in my view, the worst Dresden Files material I'd read yet. And the second half was easily the best. It's hard to take that all in at once, but to make myself put a mark on it, I'd call the book a B- overall. That being an uptick from how I felt about the last couple books, it doesn't seem like I should stop now. Plus, I've reached that milestone I was trying to reach: I can listen to the audiobook of the next novel, and find out if James Marsters is the secret ingredient that's been missing for me all this time.

That said... my husband and I have a pretty long queue of audiobooks we want to listen to together (and only so much time in the car together to do so), so Dresden Files book seven might not reach the top of the list any time soon. Stay tuned...

Picard: Mercy

The latest episode of Star Trek: Picard did seem to pick up the pace a bit, advancing the season-long story more than the past few installments. Yet it also felt as though, with only two more episodes left to go, things should have moved even more.

Picard and Guinan are in the custody of FBI Agent Wells, who is determined to get to the truth and believes they are extraterrestrials. While the two are separated, Q stops by for a revealing chat with Guinan. Rios hosts Teresa and her son on his ship as he works to purge its computer of Borg intrusion. Raffi and Seven stay on Queen/Jurati's trail, opening up to each other about past traumas in the process. And Kore confronts Adam Soong about the truth of her existence, sending him into an emotional spiral that drives him into the arms of a dangerous ally.

As you can see from that summary, there really is a lot happening in this episode. Most of it is well dramatized too. Picard flips the script on Agent Wells' interrogation, and in doing so reinforces the season's theme about how you can't trust your perceptions of the past. John de Lancie gets just a couple of scenes -- but in one he teases exactly why Renée Picard is important (her triumph is somehow Adam Soong's downfall), and in the other he gives perhaps his most intense performance ever on Star Trek, peeling back the layers of playfulness and scorn to present a Q grappling with his own issues.

A flashback between Raffi and Elnor is a great scene for both characters, and exposes exactly why his death earlier in the season hit her so hard. The confrontation between Adam Soong and Kore features subtle, non-verbal acting by both Brent Spiner and Isa Briones, as Soong reveals that his legacy does mean more to him than his daughter, and Kore reveals how deeply that hurts her.

And yet...

The storyline about Wells seems to culminate in the message that his being there is "fate" -- an odd thesis to introduce this late in the season that makes me a little nervous about how the overall story will end. (Also: if obsession hadn't driven Wells to capture Picard in the first place, he wouldn't need to have been there to let him go, right?)

Even as Q revealed a lot about why he's doing this (he's dying), there sure seems "more than two episodes' worth" of explanation about why he's doing this (trying to sabotage Earth's history in this particular way).

As effective as it was to learn why Elnor's death so affected Raffi -- and as fitting for her character as it was to hide that pain until now -- it really feels too late for the audience to be learning about it here. We could have been on her side more fully, for far longer, this season. We only needed to see the memory sooner, before she finally admits it to another character here.

And great though it was to see Kore make a stand (and to see exactly how being taunted about losing his legacy drives Soong to partner with Queen/Jurati), how far is she really going to get in the world without a phone, or money, or even shoes?

So basically: most of the plot lines in play this week had both great moments, and "wait, what?" moments. (Except perhaps for Rios and Teresa. Their blossoming romance is cute, but there doesn't seem to be much of a future there, am I right? Get it?) And speaking of romance, where was Tallinn and what was she doing this week?

Put another way, while it seems as though this season of Star Trek: Picard has started to accelerate toward the finish, it's still set in a relatively low gear. Here's hoping things "upshift" next week. I give "Mercy" a B-.

Voyager Flashback: Rise

Among fandom's least-appreciated episodes of Star Trek: Voyager season three is "Rise." And no surprise; it's a Neelix episode.

When Voyager tries to help an alien world facing multiple cataclysmic meteor strikes, a shuttle carrying Neelix and Tuvok crashes on the surface with few prospects of rescue. But they have an escape: a nearby "space elevator" that runs up a long tether to orbit. Yet during that long ride, they'll have to contend with an unknown saboteur concealing a dark secret.

I've tried to put my finger on what makes Neelix such a grating character -- especially when you could easily argue that there are other Star Trek characters I and other fans like who are cast in a similar mold. (Quark probably most of all.) I feel like it partly has to do with the fact that the Voyager writers as a whole don't seem to be very good at comedy, yet they often try to write Neelix like a sitcom character. By all accounts, actor Ethan Phillips is himself a very funny and charming person, and I submit that the gap between those traits in the actor and in the character gave everyone involved with Voyager a huge blind spot when it came to Neelix. Either they truly didn't know how Neelix was coming off, truly didn't care, or earnestly believed that "just one more Neelix episode" would make all the fans see what they saw.

I suspect is that it's that last one, as that dovetails well with the other hard-to-enjoy flaw of Neelix's character -- one that's on full display in this episode: he's such an obnoxious blend of "try-hard" and "incapable." He forces himself on the other characters in much the same way the writers force him on the audience. I mean... if you're going to do a Star Trek take on Murder on the Orient Express, which character would you put in the center of that mystery? Surely not Neelix.

But that's sort of what we get here. The series' actual detective Tuvok is reduced largely to a bystander, while Neelix bulldozes his way through the plot while hardly acknowledging the mystery or the stakes. He exaggerates his history and skills (for the umpteenth time; why does anyone believe anything he says?), stokes fear and disobedience in the middle of a crisis, and gets to pretend in the end that all of that was OK just because things worked out.

Although... I do have to admit that a lot of the interplay between Tuvok and Neelix does work. Each does have a good point: Tuvok wanting to focus on survival, Neelix insisting that keeping morale up is part of survival where emotional beings are concerned. Tuvok's snide Vulcan quips are actually funny (where Neelix comedic moments aren't), and the way he must give a "pep talk" in the end is a nice resolution to their conflict. It's all a pretty good situation for the two characters... if you ignore that they probably should understand each other better than this after they spent weeks merged as a single person.

In fact, it's actually the guest stars that really bring this episode down more than anything I hate about Neelix. The suspects on this "train" with Tuvok and Neelix are largely devoid of personality (except that a couple of them are real whiners). You can't remember any of their names. They're so indistinct that they're interchangeable, and that's terrible for a mystery. Whodunit becomes Whoisdat? And the mystery wraps up in Scooby Doo fashion, with Neelix sitting down for a long exposition dump on what really happened.

Amid the weak storytelling are some unfortunate production issues. In 1997, television CG just wasn't up to what it's being asked to do here; the asteroids and the maglev carriage all look really hokey. Pacing is weird right from the opening moment, a long pan around a silent bridge with everyone staring at the viewscreen. The action isn't very exhilarating, and the staging is often awkward; for example, in a moment where Neelix is held at knifepoint, the camera points straight up his nose (revealing the actor's real nostrils inside of the prosthetic ones). 

Other observations:

• This is a notable episode for the supposedly limited resources of Voyager. Detail-minded fans who track such things record this as the fifth shuttle they've lost, while the supply of 38 photon torpedoes (established in "The Cloud") is now depleted by half with the launch of #19.

• We're told that this Etanian Order regularly conquers planets by attacking them with seemingly natural disasters, then moving in when the inhabitants evacuate. This plan doesn't make a lick of sense. They have to find a planet in a technological sweet spot where their victims are actually capable of a global evacuation, but not advanced enough to figure out that their apocalypse isn't naturally occurring. And also, there will have to still be worthwhile resources on the planet after the natives consume anything and everything in a desperate last-ditch effort to flee.

• Neelix gets a Schwarzenegger pun: "Mr. Sklar returned to the surface." (This has real "I let him go" energy.)

Honestly, there have been worse Neelix episodes than this. But this one isn't any good either. I give "Rise" a C.

So Bad, It's Good

A few weeks back, I wrote in praise of the Star Wars animated series Clone Wars. Obviously, that praise is somewhat belated, as the series concluded (for the second or third time) in 2020. But I can voice more timely support for the series that took Clone Wars' place, and still has future episodes to come on Disney+.

The Bad Batch was a spin-off setup during the final 12-episode season of Clone Wars. It centers on a group of clone soldiers who actually aren't exactly like all their brethren, following their adventures in the immediate aftermath of the prequel Star Wars trilogy. The 4 episodes of Clone Wars that set up these characters actually was far from my favorite of the story arcs from that series, but as soon as The Bad Batch got a show of their own, they really began to shine.

For starters, the characters here really are quite interesting. That introductory Clone Wars arc set them up basically to be superheroes of a sort, each with their own special "power." But The Bad Batch series has really rounded them out with meaningful character flaws and personalities beyond "what they can do." The same thought and care that went into Clone Wars characters like Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex is fully brought to bear here. And it actually works better here, as The Bad Batch is not an "anthology show" like Clone Wars was, and can feature these same characters in every episode.

Perhaps more importantly, the time frame of this new show makes for a more compelling backdrop than the Clone Wars. That show did a great job of mining for diamonds of good ideas amid the rough of the prequel trilogy story... but ultimately, Clone Wars was always to some extent just "marking time" until the events of Revenge of the Sith. (That's why many of the most effective arcs in the show focused on areas the films didn't really explore, like the Mandalorian civil war.) The Bad Batch is set "after the fall," and Star Wars has never really had this much time and space to explore people "who thought they were fighting for the good guys" and are now disillusioned. It's fertile ground for storytelling.

To put it more directly: since the original trilogy, there's only one thing in the Star Wars canon that I've enjoyed more than the first season of The Bad Batch. (Rogue One. Duh.) The dialogue is occasionally pretty stilted, but that's kind of been a thing about Star Wars all along. (The cleverness of the plotting and quality of the voice acting more than makes up for that here.)

For certain, I'd give The Bad Batch at least a B+. Many episodes are better than that, and if season two continues the momentum of season one, I'll quickly nudge that up to an A-. The Mandalorian may be the Star Wars show with more buzz right now, but The Bad Batch is absolutely the better show.

Voyager Flashback: Darkling

Any long-running episodic science fiction show is going to gradually work its way through all the "hits." Star Trek: Voyager's take on the classic "Jekyll and Hyde" tale came in season three's "Darkling."

The Doctor seeks to improve his personality (and by extension, his effectiveness) by incorporating into his program the aspects of several historical figures he admires. But the darker sides in each of his exemplars pool together into a depraved alter ego who threatens both B'Elanna and Kes in a quest to obliterate his old persona.

This isn't a great episode of Voyager, but it would be a whole lot worse without the performance of Robert Picardo. His take on the Doctor as "Mr. Hyde" is creepy and gross, really going to extremes and almost threatening to do long-term damage to his regular character. Yet as deliciously evil as Picardo's performance is, the episode doesn't have faith in his acting alone. He wears prosthetic teeth that slacken his jaw and strange contact lenses that narrow his irises to drive the transformation home. Weirdly, the episode doesn't even work very hard to dig the Doctor out of the hole it writes him into; he's somehow instantly cured in hand-waving fashion by a transporter beam, and his apology to B'Elanna doesn't actually include an apology (while Kes doesn't even get that much).

If all the skeevy chauvinism in the episode came just from the evil Doctor, that would be one thing. But weirdly, it's kind of a top-to-bottom element of the story. In the major subplot, Kes is going through something of a midlife crisis. And because she's only three years old (thanks to the conceit of the Ocampan species), it leads to several moments ranging from uncomfortable to icky. She's much more sexualized than usual in this episode, costumed very differently. She's basically warned against falling in love with a bad boy by the Doctor. Tuvok calls her out for "gallivanting" as though he's her father (and her love interest later comes to Tuvok as if trying to convince a father of his noble intentions with a daughter).

The Kes storyline also feels like something of a missed opportunity, in retrospect. She spontaneously considers leaving the ship, then just as spontaneously decides not to in the end. But in only about 10 more episodes, Kes really would be written off the show. And I can't help but wonder, what if they'd known about that here in this episode, and actually written Kes out this way? True, Kes just running off with a new space beau might not have felt like the most satisfying end for the character, yet it would have felt more truthful than her unjustified decision not to leave in the final act of this episode. Plus, going through with the departure would have lent credibility to her thinking early in the episode: that there's more to life than Voyager, and she might be missing it.

Other observations:

• The holodeck collection of historical figures is fun, as is later seeing what Hyde-Doctor has done to them. The "hollow holo" of a bisected Socrates is a pun, get it?!

• What's with the cheesy slow motion when Hyde-Doc throws someone off a cliff? I actually snort-laughed.
  

• Kes is supposed to find Zahir attractive, but his species look a little like Bajorans with an open wound on their nose ridges. Not sexy.

Let Robert Picardo chew the scenery (as Voyager often does), and the results won't be all bad. But "Darkling" is far from great. I give it a C+.

Picard: Monsters

In some ways, I found the latest episode of Star Trek: Picard to be a bit of a "heavy lift," asking the audience to venture a bit outside the norm for a Star Trek episode. At the same time, I think it might have been an even stronger episode had it been more of a departure.

Tallinn ventures inside Picard's mind to try to rouse him from his coma, finding herself in a fairy tale dreamscape where the young Jean-Luc is tormented by monsters. Elsewhere in his mind, the older Jean-Luc is locked in a confrontation with a therapist seemingly evaluating his fitness for duty. In the real world, Rios debates telling the truth to Teresa Ramirez, while Seven of Nine and Raffi learn what happened to Jurati.

The "real world" plot lines of the season barely progress this week, leading me to wonder if there could have been a version of this episode that took place entirely in the non-literal space of Picard's mind. Absent the artificial insistence that "the clock is ticking," could this episode have taken an even longer or more abstract look at the demons inside Picard's head, and really presented us with a truly different episode of Star Trek?

It might be that I wanted more time in "dreamland" because it was giving us a lot to process. It was frankly a bit shocking when this season revealed to us that Picard's mother was abused by his father. That asked us to reevaluate everything we've long known about the character, and perhaps even what we thought about life in Star Trek's future writ large. Now, just when we've come to terms with all that, it's suddenly revealed that none of it was true; in fact, Picard's mother had mental health issues, and the young Jean-Luc got all the facts twisted up to a point where he mistakenly blamed his father for it. That's just as big an ask for "the future" -- "there's still spousal abuse in the future" gives way to "there are still mental health issues in the future that carry enough stigma that you bury the truth in your subconscious". And it's an arguably even bigger ask for the character of Picard -- "he left Earth because his mother told him to" gives way to "Picard got this story crucially wrong, and never forgave his father for it".

Plus, amid all that, factor in the long-time Trekkers who are also wondering about the older brother, Robert, that the show makes no mention of at all. (Could this buried truth have informed the emotional rift between them?)

Perhaps an "all internal" episode would have given us more time and space to process all that. (Though it's clear that the season is planning to drop another shoe there before we're done, so maybe I shouldn't get too comfortable.) Certainly, it would have given us even more of the intriguing fairy tale visuals of Tallinn's "quest," and more fun one-on-one between Patrick Stewart and excellent guest star James Callis.

Although... it very likely would have lost some of the surprise factor. There was a very clever bit of misdirection in this episode. Tallinn's true identity as a Romulan was an obvious revelation dangled in front of the audience, that I believe it was meant to figure out ahead of time. The "pointy ear shaped" device she donned in the real world was a metaphorical flashing light put there to draw attention. Anyone who sussed out what it meant for the later character reveal could sit back, relax, and think themselves smart for being ahead of the story... and in doing so, cease any speculation about the dream world story. That left the door open to be surprised at the revelation of the therapist's real identity, and the bait-and-switch of Picard's memories of his mother. A clever bit of construction.

Like I said earlier, the "real world" stories didn't progress much, so I really don't have a lot of thoughts there. Rios' paraphrase of Star Trek IV dialogue was fun ("I'm from Chile, I only work in outer space"), even if he rolled over on the truth a bit too easily. La Sirena had an unintentionally funny revolving door this week, as Seven and Raffi arrive then leave just before Rios arrives with Teresa and her son.

In the final act, Guinan reappeared. (Another opportunity for Ito Aghayere to show just how well she's captured the essence of Whoopi Goldberg's portrayal without stooping to a simple impersonation.) The fans get some fun insight into "what is the deal between Guinan and Q?", answering questions they've been asking since way back in TNG season two. (Though we don't get anything on why Guinan was so terrified of "the Watcher" earlier this season; Tallinn has seemed perfectly nice so far.)

Then, since the audience is already in a mindset to think of old Star Trek episodes, they get to speculate whether ubiquitous working actor Jay Karnes just happens to appear as an FBI Agent at the end of this episode, or is reprising a character he played in Star Trek: Voyager?

(My speculation has turned more toward "what exactly is Q's deal this season?" From all the contextual clues about Picard's buried family past and Adam Soong's quest to invent a daughter, I'll put my money on "something bad happened to Q's son.")

There was something oddly compelling to me about this episode, even if it objectively stalled the overall plot momentum a bit. I think it must be that the hour provided a lot to think about, which is something the best Star Trek episodes tend to do. Not that I'd call this a "best" Star Trek episode, though. I'd give "Monsters" a B.

What a Nightmare

In recent years, the Academy Awards used an elaborate nomination system that meant an unfixed number of films from 5 to 10 could vie for Best Picture. In 2022, they dispensed with that system in favor of a guaranteed 10 movies. The prevailing internet wisdom seems to be that #10 -- a movie that would not have made it under the previous system -- was Nightmare Alley.

Based on a 1946 novel by William Lindsay Gresham, Nightmare Alley is the story of Stanton Carlisle, who escapes from a dark past to work at a carnival. From there, he builds a career as a mentalist. But he risks it all to conspire with a conniving psychologist in a scheme to dupe a wealthy mark.

Nightmare Alley is the work of director (and co-writer) Guillermo del Toro, who brings a lot of his signature visual pinache to the proceedings. By any measure, this movie is more grounded in reality that most del Toro films... but even if this is less "dream-like," it's still very heightened and meant to seem somewhat "manufactured." I think it's those visuals that won over enough Academy voters to make the movie a nominee in the first place -- because I think most audiences would find at best only half a good movie here.

The question is: which half? In my mind, there was no question that the first 40 minutes-or-so of Nightmare Alley was the disposable part. It's an aimless stroll through a 1940s carnival, setting up characters who won't figure at all into the rest of the movie. The first act does contain a single essential scene that sets up the end of the movie, but I felt like the rest of it was elaborate window dressing trying to disguise that scene (in the hopes that the audience won't figure out exactly where the story will end up).

"Act two" of the movie opens with on-screen text telling us that events are now taking place "Two Years Later," and that's when the worthwhile section of the movie starts, in my mind. It cultivates a reasonable amount of tension as it tells a "descent into moral darkness" kind of story. It was hardly "great," but I didn't find it boring. And a sleazy score by composer Nathan Johnson does a lot to create a moody atmosphere.

I was truly surprised when, in passing, a good friend of mine mentioned Nightmare Alley, and his completely opposite reaction. He too saw two half-movies in one here, but he found the carnival setting to be the only compelling section of the movie, followed up with an overly familiar story walking through the tropes of film noir.

The one thing I know for sure is that I will never revisit this movie to see who was right -- was it my friend who saw something I missed, or is he the crazy one? The truth is, it hardly matters, as the two halves of Nightmare Alley are so discordant with one another that it's hard to imagine many people being entertained by the whole. All they could probably agree on is that a cast of great actors is generally being underutilized: Bradley Cooper, Cate Blanchett, Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, Richard Jenkins, Rooney Mara, Ron Perlman, Mary Steenburgen, David Strathairn, Jim Beaver, and Tim Blake Nelson have all been in better than this.

I probably sound more down on this movie than it really deserves, and I think only because I watched this under the looming shadow of "this was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar?" It's really too mediocre for me to really warn you to skip it. But it certainly could have been better if it were a lot shorter. I give Nightmare Alley a C.

Wilderness Guide

Cascadia is among the most recent board games to break into the Top 100 on BoardGameGeek... and one I've actually been able to play a fair amount since its release last year. So, I have thoughts.

In Cascadia, players each cultivate their own wildlife area. Each turn, you draft one of four pairings of pieces, each pair containing a hex-shaped terrain tile (with five different types of terrains) and a wooden disc showing an animal (one of five different kinds). You place the terrain in your landscape; you don't have to link matching terrain types together, though there are incentives to do so. At the same time, you place the animal on any empty tile in your landscape that shows that animal's icon.

All scoring in Cascadia takes place at the end of the game. Each of the five animal types has a particular way you should arrange it to maximize scoring. (And the game comes with multiple cards showing different scoring conditions for each animal. Each game is different, depending on the randomly selected scoring conditions on offer.) You also then score for your largest contiguous area of each terrain type (with a special bonus if yours is the largest among all players). There are a few other wrinkles in the drafting, but that's essentially all there is to it.

The system isn't too complicated, but it is robust enough to put several competing considerations into your decision making. You only ever have three empty spaces for animals, so trying to keep your options wide can be important. But there are a limited number of each kind of animal in each game, so if your opponents are going for one in particular, you might do well to shift your plans to something in less demand (that you'll be able to draft more regularly). Finding a harmony between the scoring methods of two or three different animals at the same time is a thematic and satisfying way to maximize your score.

I'm not alone in noting this, but to me, a lot of the strategy and analysis in Cascadia is similar to what you're asked to do in Calico: you've got a spatial puzzle to solve using hex tiles, and you're drafting against your opponents to do it. There are some differences here that do matter -- though there is more credence than usual to the community opinion that "these two games are a lot alike." If you're a fan of these sorts of tile laying games, you'll probably enjoy both Cascadia and Calico. But also, I think most gamers would have a preference between the two, depending on a few considerations.

It feels a lot easier to me to "keep your options open" in Cascadia. There are a lot of ways to score. Your board is always changing and isn't "fixed" from the start of the game. Four choices to draft from on each turn is simply, strictly more forgiving than the three choices you're given in a turn of Calico. And all of that adds up to many gamers declaring that Cascadia was a "Calico killer"; Calico came first and was a hit, but then along came Cascadia to consign it to the shelf. On the other hand, you could view all of Cascadia's options through an opposite lens: in being more flexible, you come into conflict with opponents less often. You can more easily "draft your way out" of a problem. The game can be more solitary, with little-to-nothing your opponents do actually disrupting your game.

I think either view probably overstates the case, as both are good games. The designer in me admires the more elegant system of Calico. I can easily imagine other people being more drawn to Cascadia's variable scoring conditions and the emergent interactions they create. I'd gladly play either on a game night, but if I'm the one making the suggestion, I'll pick Calico. Still, I'd rate Cascadia at least a B... and as we've been playing it more, I think it has been growing on me. Fans of drafting or tile-laying games should give it a look.

Voyager Flashback: Unity

For the first two seasons of Star Trek: Voyager, the Borg were nowhere to be seen. This was a high-level decision made for the sake of the feature film Star Trek: First Contact. But once that movie had been released, just months later (and literally during the very next Nielsen "sweeps" period), the prohibition was lifted. The Borg made their first Voyager appearance in "Unity."

While on a mission away from Voyager, Chakotay encounters a colony populated by warring factions of "ex-Borg" who regained their individuality (and old animosities) after being severed from the Collective. Meanwhile, Voyager encounters the derelict cube from which they all came.

The Voyager writing staff knew they would need a fresh angle into featuring the Borg, with the movie First Contact having just dramatized a more straightforward confrontation. They needed their version of an "I, Borg," an episode that centered on Star Trek's nastiest villains without being a simple shoot-'em-up. Staff writer Kenneth Biller cracked that nut with a concept inspired by the Tower of Babel -- a story of cultures clashing when their "shared language" is suddenly taken away. (He also mentioned the breakup of the Soviet Union as another touchstone, with different former Soviet nations abandoning former ideals to varying degrees.)

That's all compelling table setting for what ends up being a less compelling story. "Unity" plays like a film noir with a slight technological twist, the story of an ignorant "detective" being duped by a dangerous femme fatale. Adding to that general tone are more film noir trappings like underlit scenes, conspicuously flirtatious dialogue, and a low budget flashback montage.

There are a number of intriguing ideas in the mix here, though most of them feel underdeveloped. Chakotay's resistance to even a benign form of "assimilation" feels right, but then he immediately gives in during an elliptical edit, without even a scene on Voyager to give us separation. The idea of "phantom sensation" after a mental link is intriguing... but that turns out to be not about the mental dichotomy so much as planting the idea that Chakotay's brain will be hijacked at the end of the episode. The question of whether it's right to force a new link on a colony of ex-Borg is put on the table, but the morality of that is never actually debated. (Janeway recoils, and then it just happens anyway.)

But there are good moments sprinkled throughout. An opening "gun fight" has quite a few visual effects and stunts, and takes place in a fun environment of junk and fire pits. The idea to make Tuvok the victim of a "jump scare" aboard the Borg cube is inspired, and Tim Russ plays the reaction perfectly. B'Elanna's speculation about someone more powerful than the Borg is eerie, and nice table-setting for the season finale.

This episode also provides interesting material for speculation -- things I don't think the series ever digs into, but fun for Trekkers to bat back and forth. Is there something about linking individuals into a "collective" that corrupts, some lowest common denominator of group-think that's inevitably evil? (Not just the Borg, but the Great Link of the Founders on Deep Space Nine, seem to say the answer is "yes.") Later on, does Chakotay ever talk of his "Borg link" experience here with Seven of Nine?

Other observations:

• I believe this may be the last mention of the "Nekrit Expanse" in Voyager, a moody sounding bone that turned out to have little meat on it.

• I'm hardly the first to note this, but for being low on resources generally, Voyager isn't really affected by all the shuttles they lose.
  

• Riley's backstory is that she was assimilated at the Battle of Wolf 359. But that Borg cube was destroyed at Earth, so how did she get to the Delta Quadrant? (I would say "the same way the Borg Queen did," but that's been strongly implied to be something special and metaphysical.)
  

• This is Robert Duncan McNeill's second time directing Voyager. He spoke very highly of this episode at the time (perhaps for promotion of the show, perhaps for self-promotion to land another directing assignment). More recently, though (on his podcast with Garrett Wang), he was fairly down on the episode, saying he felt he'd hit a definite sophomore slump.

I applaud the attempt to not simply repeat "climactic battle" every time the Borg come around. But I still don't find "Unity" to be entirely successful. I give it a B-.

Picard: Two of One

Star Trek: Picard has been pulling off a sort of magic trick in season two -- gently pulling us along on a wild ride that somehow stitches together Q, the Borg, time travel, and an alternate reality in a way that's not only coherent, but wildly entertaining. But in it's latest episode, "Two of One," the magician might have slipped up and made a small mistake or two.

Picard and his crew infiltrate the gala where his ancestor Renée is appearing before her mission to Europa. There, they must deal with security, the sabotage efforts of Adam Soong, and a cunning Borg Queen lurking inside Dr. Jurati's consciousness.

I think that the "magic trick" of Picard season two has been how well it's maintained the suspension of disbelief, even as there have been moments pretty much every episode that probably should make you question whether everything really makes sense. The overall shape of the story has been that strong, the pace well managed, and the acting potent enough to pull me through. But we're in that "middle section" of the narrative, where complications pile up, where things are being set up for the eventual payoff... and it felt to me like this week, it was just a little easier to latch on to the weak spots.

Take the Borg Queen subplot with Jurati. All season long, it's probably been true that it's been much better in execution than in writing. I don't think it's ever really been clear just why the Queen's assimilating powers have been controlled, but it's kind of worked anyway, with Annie Wersching (and Alison Pill as her primary foil) giving us a delicious performance. But this week asked more of the audience. We learn that Jurati planned to let the Borg Queen into her mind, and for some unspecified reason thought she'd have it all under control? What exactly was the thinking here? What are the mechanics of any of this?

Yet... does it matter when the performances remain so fun? This week, the Queen was like the Jurassic Park raptor testing the fence, and the moments she broke through were all entertaining. The kiss with Rios might have been the stand-out, had we not then gotten Alison Pill's rendition of Pat Benetar's "Shadows of the Night." (This was pure Terry Matalas. The show runner created a similar showpiece in the final season of 12 Monkeys, upon apparently learning that one of his cast members could sing. He seems to have reused the gimmick here... again, to great effect.)

Raffi's role in the story this week was quite small (though not as small as Seven of Nine's), but what was there felt pretty far off-brand to me. First, she was really laying into Rios for risking the timeline -- quite rich, considering her behavior so far this season. (That's fine; people are inconsistent. But how about having Seven call her out on it?) Later, things culminated in a scene where the roles felt exactly backwards to me. Tallinn, who barely knows Jean-Luc Picard, is arguing for a "rescue mission" inside his head, while Raffi is arguing that it's too risky. Shouldn't it be Raffi, with another friend near death and absolutely determined not to lose anyone else after Elnor, arguing for the risky move? And shouldn't it be Tallinn, who has spent her whole life as a bystander, who needs pushing to get in there and try something?

Speaking of Jean-Luc Picard, this was the third straight episode where he ended up in a one-on-one with a woman, trying to change her mind. It's starting to be a little repetitive -- though I can't argue that Patrick Stewart can give one hell of a pep talk. (There was another Terry Matalas touch in this subplot, with the circular nature of this whole time travel adventure beginning to assert itself. Jean-Luc advises Renée to "look up" -- at the model -- which will become the very advice his mother one day gives him.)

The handful of other plot developments felt on stronger footing to me. I'm glad to see Dr. Teresa Ramirez back again; it didn't feel like we were done with the character before, but it's nice to know that the story (like me) thinks there's more to reveal there. I was also intrigued by how swiftly (but effectively) the story fundamentally changed the character of Adam Soong. Last week, he was a pitiable and desperate man indulging the dark side out of desperation. Just one episode later, we've learned he's really more of a Dr. Frankenstein, playing god and developing a god complex in the process. I'm interested to see where the story takes both of these significant side characters.

Once again, I feel like I've just watched the weakest episode so far in Picard season two. It has hardly slipped low enough for me to question the season as a whole, as I think they've set up for plenty of interesting things for the "final act." But I would give "Two of One" a B-.

Eight Is Enough?

Last year, Peter Jackson's documentary, The Beatles: Get Back, made a fairly big splash in the zeitgeist. But several years earlier, another well-known director tried his hand at a Beatles documentary.

Ron Howard's 2016 documentary is rather ponderously titled. But you can be pretty sure what you're going to get when you sit down to watch The Beatles: Eight Days a Week - The Touring Years; the film is focused on the period before the band settled into only recording in the studio. Essentially, this is about the phenomenon of Beatlemania.

More than subject matter, this film is very different for its authorial approach. Get Back strives to make the director and editor as "invisible" to the process as possible. Eight Days a Week is more of a narrative experience, guiding you through year by year, labeling most of the footage, and adding unnecessary visual effects to occasionally accent the proceedings. There are lots of "talking head" interviews, many with celebrity fans, but also with each of the Fab Four. (John and George appear in archival footage, of course; Paul and Ringo appear to have recorded new interviews for the film.)

One thing watching this film will do for you, completely separate from any feelings about the Beatles, is make you appreciate just how stunning the restoration techniques of Peter Jackson and Weta Workshop truly are. A lot of the footage in Eight Days a Week doesn't look "bad" (though some of it does), but Get Back magically looks like it could have been filmed yesterday. In just five years, this niche of technology has improved impressively, and it makes Jackson's film feel much more immediate  for it. (There is some footage of the Abbey Road "rooftop concert" at the end of Eight Days a Week, and there you can really see the difference.)

Still, Eight Days a Week makes a notable "companion piece" to Get Back, and I was actually glad I watched them in the order I did. In Eight Days a Week, you really see a group of kids in their early 20s getting caught up in a fame juggernaut. You see them enjoying every minute of it, then pretending to enjoy every minute of it, until finally something has to give. That throughline then informs Get Back, where you can see some of the band yearning to... well... get back some of the fun of those early days. Eight Days a Week makes you feel like these four young men went to war together in their own unique way, and that the experience forever changed them. You kind of understand why, after a while, you just wouldn't want to keep hanging out with your "war buddies," being reminded of all that.

Eight Days a Week is arguably the more accessible documentary for people who don't really think they're into the Beatles. But it also doesn't dig nearly as deep. I give it a B. It probably goes without saying that if you are a Beatles fan, you should check it out. Maybe even again, if you've already watched it, now that you've seen Get Back.

Blood on the (Right) Tracks

In the last 10 years of television, two series finales stand out above all others in uniting their fans to cry, "well, that sucked": Game of Thrones (where I'm happy to have an ending, which George R.R. Martin is never going to give us) and Dexter (which, well... sucked).

When the news came that a Dexter re-visit was coming in Dexter: New Blood, I was of a decidedly mixed mind about it. The show had been over for several years, and I'd very much put it behind me -- it was no longer worthy of any time spent thinking about it. But... what if they could come back and do better than that final, uneven season and that terrible last episode? Like, how can they not do better? Ultimately, that latter impulse won out, and I looked to the reboot with cautious optimism. Now that I've seen all 10 episodes of Dexter: New Blood, I'm truly pleased to report that the optimism was warranted. The "single season revival" is a rather ubiquitous phenomenon in modern television -- and I have yet to see anyone do it better than Dexter: New Blood.

It starts, of course, with a great cast. It only takes minutes of Michael C. Hall on screen to remind you why you liked Dexter (if you liked Dexter). He gives a charming, funny, frightening performance. (Subtle too, outside of the smirking voice-overs.) He's why you kept with the original series even when it was clearly on the decline, and he hasn't lost a step here in the reboot.

Decade-old spoilers for original Dexter here, but... there's only one other character returning to the reboot, and then only as the new angel/devil in Dexter's head. You can't do Dexter without Jennifer Carpenter as Deb, and you can't have a living Deb after the way the series ended. So yes, this is sort of a thankless job for Carpenter... and yet she really does make the most of it, putting a much less tender and understanding spin on Dexter's inner thoughts.

But the new cast here is excellent too. Clancy Brown plays the main antagonist of the season, and is easily the most compelling one on Dexter since John Lithgow: oily and complicated and menacing. Julia Jones plays police chief Angela Bishop, and rises to the occasion of a wide range of material she has to play over the course of the season. The biggest discovery in the cast is young Jack Alcott, playing (New Blood episode one spoiler here) Harrison, returned to find his estranged father. The plot of the season turns on whether Harrison has Dexter's darkness inside him, and the writing stretches the taffy as long as possible to cloud the answer to that question. That sets up Alcott for a truly difficult acting challenge, trying to ride a line where his intentions are unclear... but he does an excellent job.

More important than the casting, though, is the writing. Essentially, the entire reason for Dexter: New Blood is to "apologize" for the final season of Dexter. And it does so, wonderfully. This series finale, told this way, would have been impossible back in 2013. But if somehow this could have been the series finale we got back then? I think no one would have been complaining. In short, this is a much better ending, and I'm very glad they came back to give it to us.

To be clear, though: if I had to rank Dexter: New Blood as a "ninth season" of the original, would it come out on top? No -- clearly, the famously great seasons 2 and 4 were better. Probably season 1 as well, setting the whole thing in motion. But this clearly rises above anything in the back half of the series. I'd give Dexter: New Blood a B+. If you ever loved the original, but avoided the reboot out of contempt for how that ended, do yourself a favor and watch the reboot.

Last But Not Least (But Not Best)

On a couple of occasions, I've written about how each month, Amazon offers a small selection of books free to Kindle users. On one occasion, I found the beginning of a decent trilogy. On another occasion, I found a pulpy-but-fun legal thriller. But I've also wasted my time on a predictable sci-fi novel. And I've mostly struck out again with The Last Dance, by Martin L. Shoemaker.

The Last Dance is a science fiction novel about an investigator sent to assess charges of mutiny aboard a transit ship on a loop between Earth and Mars. Park Yerim has considerable latitude in her investigation, being so far from contact with Earth. But the scope of her task keeps growing and growing, with everyone on the ship having their own strong opinions about the situation she's there to review.

There is a moderately interesting story at the heart of this book. If you like sci-fi, and you've ever gotten swept up in any Law & Order or CSI style "investigation procedural," this book will grab you. But the technique of telling that interesting story was too hit and miss for me.

The book is written in the first person... but the perspective character shifts throughout. Alternating chapters follow Park Yerim on her investigation. The intervening chapters shift focus to the people Yerim interviews, and their flashbacks (often to the quite distant past) mean to shed light on the investigation. Some chapters take mere minutes to read; others take more than an hour. (The longer stretches are actually better for getting into the head of a new character and engaging with their story.) But there are also some weird digressions, including a chapter written like a deposition transcript (that features a character telling a story in an unrealistic manner no one would actually use).

You don't start getting any answers for a long, long time. Shoemaker cheekily hides the nature of the investigation -- what was the mutiny? -- for quite a long time. And while pieces do slowly fall into place, the events you're "here to see" don't actually get revealed until almost three-quarters of the way through the novel.

Even with the strange technique and pacing, I still found myself intermittently drawn into The Last Dance, and I was probably on my way to recommending it... until the ending. Ultimately, the book lays out a Gordian Knot that's meant to be too complicated, too pregnant with consequence, for the main character to unravel. But what do you do with a Gordian Knot? You take out a sword and cut it. Which the main character essentially does, coming up with a solution that's too easy and too fast for all the lengthy preamble before it.

This is one of those stories where the journey is more satisfying (at times, anyway) than the destination. That might be enough for you, if you're looking to try a sci-fi author you probably haven't read before. But for me, I'd only give this book a C+.

Voyager Flashback: Blood Fever

As more and more Star Trek spin-offs arrive, different segments of fandom debate the degree to which each new incarnation of the franchise should be bound by the continuity of what's come before. It's hardly unique to the modern Trek series. In its third season, Star Trek: Voyager made an episode basically only because the original series compelled them to do so: "Blood Fever."

Vorik is experiencing the Vulcan mating urge of pon farr, and through a brief telepathic connection, passes the condition onto B'Elanna Torres. Each seeks their own way to purge the "disease," Vorik through stoic Vulcan privacy (in which even Tuvok is reluctant to interfere), B'Elanna by fixing her amorous eyes on Tom Paris.

"Amok Time" is among the original Star Trek episodes most beloved by fans. It's been a very long time since I've watched it, but I certainly agreed with the masses the last time I did. And yet... back up for a second and imagine describing the plot to someone who, say, isn't into science fiction. The emotionless alien character goes into heat, as his species does every 7 years. If he doesn't take a mate, he's literally going to die. It sounds ridiculous, the product of a sex-crazed 1960s writer who couldn't make science fiction look sillier if he tried. (I would submit that, in a vacuum, only the premise of "Spock's Brain" sounds more laughable.) And yet, nearly 30 years later, we need to dust that off and make a sequel?

Well... yeah. Because from basically the first moment Trekkers saw another Vulcan character on a series, they were asking "when is pon farr going to come up?" And the writers of Voyager knew that, which is part of what took them so long: they were reportedly looking for a surprising angle into the story. Their solution was to not use Tuvok (protecting the married character), and to instead have B'Elanna experience the Vulcan urge.

The result is somewhat novel, but also still a bit silly. The Doctor becomes a sort of holographic pimp. We get performative foreplay from biting to almost literal rolling in the hay. Every line about how a character needs to "resolve" their pon farr skates right along the line of comedy. It's all the cliche scene setups from a porno with the actual sex removed. And it ends with three guys all standing around sort of creepily watching a "couple" fight each other. So, yeah... let's just stipulate right now: if you were to choose just one episode of Star Trek to convince someone of the merits of the franchise, you would never pick "Blood Fever."

But also, Voyager kind of did need to do this episode. And they did do some interesting things with it. The constant commentary on how illogical it is for Vulcans to be so private about this is fun. (Embarassment is an emotion, people!) Roxann Dawson really "accepts the assignment" fully and brings a wildly unrestrained energy to her performance as B'Elanna. The until now barely simmering romance between Tom and B'Elanna is put on the fast track.

The good performances might be thanks to director Andrew Robinson, better known to Trekkers for playing Garak on Deep Space Nine. He really gives the actors room to play, and covers the action mostly with long takes that don't interrupt the performance. Particularly striking is a scene where Tuvok and Vorik speak in profile to one another without meeting each other's eyes. Also, the fight at the end has surprisingly few cuts in it. My only complaint here: some of the work inside the caves may be a bit too underlit.

Other observations:

• Harry Kim is absent from this episode, with some random extra taking what likely would have been his one or two lines. According to Garrett Wang, this was another episode he missed owing to depression he was experiencing at the time.

• Adding to the "classic Star Trek" vibes here, the aliens on the planet seem like literal rock monsters when they're first encountered.

• We learn lots of random tidbits about characters that we didn't know before. Neelix worked in a mining colony. Tom Paris has rock climbing experience. Tuvok has an implant in his elbow.

• Reportedly, this episode was extensively rewritten at the last minute. It was to have been B'Elanna and Tuvok stranded together in a cave, him drawing on his Vulcan experience to talk her through pon farr. The writers then decided it would be a good opportunity to push the Paris relationship by putting him in that situation instead.
  

• TV trope: stopping the elevator to have a conversation, as no one in real life ever does.

• The episode ends with a tease of the Borg, another moment calibrated for the long-time Star Trek fans.

Yeah, this episode is pretty fun if you're already inside the Star Trek tent. But it's also kind of silly. I give "Blood Fever" a B-.

Foundational Beliefs

It's been several months since the season one finale of Foundation aired on Apple TV+, and I've just now realized that I never blogged anything about it. As I try to do so now, I realize that's because I was never really quite sure what I felt about the show.

I know at least that I experienced none of the mental whiplash my husband felt while watching the 10-episode season. He read all of the Isaac Asimov novels on which the show was based... and then had to come to grips with the fact that the TV series was almost nothing like the books. One could engage in a lengthy analysis of why the writers of the show changed so much, whether it made for better television, and whether the essence of the source material was preserved, but I'm not equipped for that kind of analysis.

What I think I can note is that Foundation definitely put out the vibes of a television executive who directed their underlings to "go out and get me a science fiction Game of Thrones!" They found for that executive a show with a similarly large cast of characters (some to love, some to hate, some to hate and then love), with a broad range of distinct-looking environments, and a politically-driven plot unspooled at a deliberate pace.

Foundation is neither as good as Game of Thrones was at its peak, nor as bad as everyone now proclaims Game of Thrones was at the end. As is not unusual for a TV series in its first season, it's a show trying to figure out what about itself works best. But that normal growth process is especially unusual for Foundation, as the built-in premise to tell a story over multiple generations means that many things about the show -- hit or miss -- can only last a few episodes before they're gone.

Looking back even now, only a few months later, I cannot recall any particular episode of Foundation and say, "ooo, that's when the show got really good." I had more of a Dread Pirate Roberts kind of relationship to the series: "Good episode, Foundation. Sleep well. I'll most likely not watch you next week." But I did keep coming back, and I'm pretty sure I'm looking forward to the greenlit season two.

Among many decisions in adaptation that book fans might view as dubious, one I find especially clever for television is that they found multiple different ways to allow characters to be be persistent even across time jumps in the narrative. It's best not to spoil those, if you're inclined to give Foundation a try. But suffice it to say, if you get Jared Harris to play a major character on your TV show, you'd be smart not to let him go too easily. Lou Llobell and Leah Harvey are the true protagonists of the first season, and both women are compelling in their roles. And Lee Pace gives good evil, which we've gotten tastes of earlier in his career without the full airing he's given here. (He has many scenes with Terrence Mann, who matches his tone moment for moment.)

On a streaming service that also has For All Mankind, Foundation is simply never going to be "the best science fiction show." (Now that Severance has arrived, it's even been knocked down a rung just for "best high-concept show on the service." But that's a topic for a future post.) Still, Foundation did capture my interest, and it might just capture yours too. I'd give it a cautious B, with hopes for growth in season two.

Picard: Fly Me to the Moon

The second season of Star Trek: Picard is now already half over, with the episode "Fly Me to the Moon."

Picard persuades the Watcher to help him, learning in the process that the point of timeline divergence may be his own ancestor. Raffi and Seven rescue Rios, Jurati has a close encounter with the Borg Queen, and then all of them must work together to try and repair the timeline. Meanwhile, Q approaches geneticist Adam Soong with a possible cure for his immuno-compromised daughter, working a scheme of his own.

Jonathan Frakes is back in the director's chair for this episode, and it's fitting since he directed the movie that first introduced the Borg Queen so long ago. Either by the nature of this script, or Frakes' own directorial instincts, the Borg Queen of this episode is suddenly much more like Alice Krige's original incarnation -- less quippy and sarcastic, more seductive and sensual. Annie Wersching is strong enough that the gear change doesn't strike me as jarring, and the increased intimacy makes sense for where the episode ultimately ends, with the Queen riding along in Jurati's consciousness.

I'm glad they're not stretching the taffy any farther to make us wait longer for a plot development we all knew was coming. Still, I do wish that the Queen's "escape" had been a bit more about how clever she is, and a bit less about how dumb our heroes were to leave her alone. (By which I mean: the scene in which the Queen systematically tries different voices to access the computer? That worked for me. Cutting to Jurati napping peacefully on the couch? Not so much.)

For Picard, it's two very similar episodes in a row: trying to convince a reluctant ally to partner up in a series of conversation-heavy scenes. There are enough revelations this week to keep it from feeling like too much of a "re-run": we learn that Picard's ancestor may be key to the whole story, Picard name-drops Gary Seven for the fans, and the mystery of why Tallinn looks like Laris is teased in all the Romulan-looking technology she seems to be using. I know Patrick Stewart's action days are behind him, but I'd still like something a little more... heh... "engaged" for his character in the coming episodes.

We have a long tradition of Soong family members looking like Brent Spiner, so I was quickly on board with his return this episode -- and with Isa Briones appearing as Adam Soong's daughter, Kore. I liked this little subplot for the way it tried to humanize a "mad scientist" type by showing us what is driving him mad. As for what Q is up to here? It seems like the audience is ahead of the characters here; we know that Q's powers seem to be on the fritz, which may explain "why mind games and not finger snaps?" Regardless, I liked John de Lancie in this more manipulative and sinister (and not all-powerful) gear. (And side note for the Soong subplot: the director of the last two episodes, Lea Thompson, now appeared briefly in front of the camera. Fun.)

It wasn't much of an episode for Raffi, Seven, and Rios. They recovered Rios I guess without disrupting the timeline? (I'd have expected a lot of butterflies from releasing all those other ICE prisoners.) But I am glad to see the band all back together, and quickly launching into probably my favorite of all story conceits: a heist! We even got some distinctly Ocean's Eleven style score from Jeff Russo. Of course, the plan was threatening to go sideways just as the end credits arrived, so we'll have to see how it all turns out next time.

The season-long plot definitely progressed this week, which I liked. The performances were great as always, which I loved. A few of the particular plot moves, I didn't like quite so much. So I think I'll give "Fly Me to the Moon" a B. Not a weak mark, by any means, though the weakest of this so-far very compelling season.

Murder, He Guessed

I've reached a point where my "television diet" always needs a few empty calories. I think I'm far from alone in that; everybody has at least one stupid reality competition, laugh-track-saddled sitcom, or home/self-improvement show on their radar, right? At least one?

Recently, one show that slid quite well into my "dumb but fun" slot was Netflix's Murderville. Adapted from a British series, Murderville stars Will Arnett as self-styled hard-boiled detective Terry Seattle, who each week is saddled with a new partner to solve a homicide with three possible suspects. That partner is always some celebrity appearing as themselves... and without the script that everyone else in the show has received. The guest star is put on the improv spot, and also must actually try to pick up on the clues that in the end will point to the real killer.

To say this show is formulaic is really stating the obvious -- but when it's funny, it's really quite funny. And that generally has a lot to do with who the guest star of the episode is, whether they're game to play around and look foolish, and whether they're willing to "serve back" and put the rest of the cast on the spot. The real stand-outs of the six-episode season were Conan O'Brien (who guest starred in the very first episode), Sharon Stone, and Ken Jeong.

As with most televised improv, some of the funnier moments just come from watching someone slip up and break character. (That's sometimes called "corpsing," which makes for a hilarious meta joke in at least one episode.) Still, equally funny are moments where guest stars jump right into the ridiculous accents they're assigned, scenes when you can see Will Arnett's expression saying "oh, you wanna go right now?!", and moments when the guest star improvises something that clearly no one could have expected.

High art? Of course not. And actually, a really bad show choice for Netflix -- a service that drives all its customers to binge-watch its programming as much as possible. (You'd be smart to give yourself at least one week between each admittedly similar episode of Murderville, lest you tire of the formula too quickly.) Still, this can't be a very expensive show to make, and I got enough laughs out of it that I do hope they'll make more some day. I give Murderville a B.