Easy as One Two Three

The original 1974 version of The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is not a movie that tends to show up on lists of "Best Movies Ever Made" or "Movies You Must See Before You Die" and the like. But it does seem to cast a long shadow over people in the filmmaking business. Over the years, I've seen it pop up again and again in interviews, social media, and more -- with writers, directors, and actors all citing it as an influential movie. I recently decided to check it out.

For those who don't know the movie (or its 1998 TV movie remake, or the 2009 Denzel Washington version), The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is a straightforward story about a small criminal crew that hijacks a New York subway car to ransom its passengers. Why did this one novel by John Godey capture Hollywood enough to spawn three movies? I'm not sure I can say... but it indeed feels like a milestone movie on the way to the modern Hollywood blockbuster.

Though made in 1974, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three isn't at all the "slow burn" that most big movies of the early 70s often were. In fact, it's almost more compact than the modern blockbuster. We pretty much jump right into the hijacking; the movie then does everything and slips out in a rather slim 104 minutes. And no time is spent delving into the private lives or motivations of the perpetrators -- they're all just here to do a job.

Which is not to say there's no characterization in the movie. Indeed, this is surely the main way in which this movie influenced Hollywood. There are dozens of characters in this movie -- and while only a handful are truly central to the plot, they pretty much all "pop." This is a case study for screen writers, and for the actors' adage that "there are no small parts." With a remarkable economy of dialogue and/or behavior, you get a strong sense of personality from multiple criminals, police, hostages, subway workers, and government officials. (Sure, a handful of these depictions center on cliches that read poorly today, but this is nearly 50 years old.)

The cast is stacked for its time. Walter Matthau, Robert Shaw, (major "that guy") Hector Elizondo, Jerry Stiller, and more are all here. Shaw's presence in particular contributes a lot to the sense that this movie helped birth the modern blockbuster; with this and Jaws in the following year, there's a real throughline here. In two otherwise different characters, we see "stoic under pressure," "villainous protagonist," and other action conventions created right before our eyes.

The score by David Shire is really something. Most of the movie actually plays "dry," without music, but when it does enter the scene, it's loud, in your face, and funky. As if fearing that a movie largely confined to one subway car might get dull (even though it is about a hostage situation), the music is over the top and elevates the stakes.

But despite the reasons I recognize that this film could be studied, I'm not as convinced it can be enjoyed. There's really not much meat on the bone when it comes to the plot -- little more than the question of "how will they get away?" Many of the characters, so vividly constructed in a handful of lines, basically just get dropped. It's quite possible that movies made later, with more complex inner workings, have spoiled me on something this simple -- this... well... old. For whatever the reasons, though, I found myself understanding why film enthusiasts think of this movie much more than I found myself actually liking it.

I'd give The Taking of Pelham One Two Three a C. I'm glad I watched it. If you're the sort of person who might ever call movies "cinema," this might be one you want to watch. If you're more an action movie lover looking for throwbacks you might have missed, this feels to me like more of a risk.

Prodigy: Crossroads

The latest episode of Star Trek: Prodigy united the separate plot threads that have been running now for several episodes, while serving up a fistful of Trek franchise shout-outs in the process.

To counter the risk of contacting Starfleet from the Protostar, the crew hides the ship and sets out to find other transportation. But Starfleet is also looking for them. They run into each other (literally) on an icy planet, but misunderstandings kick off a dangerous chase that culminates at the border of the Neutral Zone.

On the one hand, episodes of Star Trek: Prodigy are barely 20 minutes long (not counting the credits), so we haven't really spent a lot of screen time watching the real Admiral Janeway's search for Chakotay and the Protostar. On the other hand, it has been multiple episodes, and we would probably begin to question Janeway's competence if she didn't catch up to the kids of Prodigy soon. So it's good that the series didn't make us wait any longer to bring the disparate plot threads together in this action-oriented episode.

On the other hand, bringing the Prodigy gang face to face with the real Janeway sort of does make us question the latter's competence a little anyway. This is essentially the same issue that the Borg episode a few weeks ago had. In order for a group of kids to get the upper hand on someone, you have to "dumb down" that someone -- which, in the case of a character as long-established as Janeway, is a bit of a bummer.

But the writers did take some steps here to mitigate this. The specifically "hung a lantern" on the fact that none of the kids were able to just come out and tell Starfleet the truth. (Kids can be awfully circuitous in their storytelling, so I buy it.) They made contact with another adult who could help them out. (More on Okona in a moment.) The real Janeway, knowing there were kids involved (and knowing that one specifically is the daughter of her alien guest) was, of course, not shooting to kill.

So this journey to an interesting cliffhanger ending with the Romulans actually worked well enough, serving up some nice character moments along the way. The comic relief of Jankom Pog felt particularly good this week, with another Tellarite puncturing his bluster. I would imagine the meta-Murf-osis of the series' most plush-worthy character was a delight for the target audience. And while the series didn't have to make characters out of Admiral Janeway's crew, it's nice that it has; the moment in which her first officer Tysess calls out her emotional attachment was effective, and the empathy of Ensign Asencia toward Gwyn worked well too.

Meanwhile, there were abundant Trek franchise references to delight another segment of the audience. Enterprise fans got an appearance by the Reptilian Xindi. I imagine even the casual Trek watchers caught the "make it so" reference. Then the big connection: the freighter captain Okona. Dal and company could have met up with any random independent freighter captain, of course -- an original character created for this story. Instead, the writers went deep in the archives and gave us the return of the "outrageous" Billy Campbell, for what looks like multiple episodes. Maybe this time around, he'll get to be truly charming and roguish in a way the original Next Generation episode didn't really capture.

Overall, I'd give "Crossroads" a B. It's certainly a milestone episode for the ongoing story the series is telling, and leaves me quite interested to see where things go from here.

Voyager Flashback: The Omega Directive

As a franchise with a strong positive focus on science, Star Trek isn't in the best position to tell stories about religion (unless it's to dismiss religion as backward and primitive). But they were making 26 episodes per season per series at the time, and couldn't resist the occasional attempt at the topic. One result was the mixed bag "The Omega Directive."

Voyager detects a rare and highly volatile particle on a nearby planet, and automatically delivers a new mission to Captain Janeway: destroy the particle before it destroys warp travel on a galactic scale. But Seven of Nine is eager to tap this "Omega particle" as a powerful energy source, fueled by a reverence instilled in her by the Borg -- for the particle is the closest thing to true perfection in existence.

This was reportedly a difficult script for the Voyager writing team to crack. It started out centered on the idea of "a directive that superseded even the Prime Directive." It never really escaped the concept of "a threat to warp travel" (which The Next Generation had already covered). They finally decided to inject the religious angle -- Seven's yearning for the Omega particle -- as a way of putting more meat on the story bone.

But to my mind, none of that is what's most interesting about this episode. I'm drawn to the friction among the characters. Janeway is initially required to keep this mission secret from her entire crew, which is a quite interesting jumping off point for the story. (The logic of Starfleet encoding their ships to flash an ominous symbol on every monitor when trying to keep a secret is questionable, but whatever.) The notion that Janeway actually does have one person she can confide in... but it's Seven of Nine, who she's repeatedly been at odds with? That's gold. Chakotay is having to order crew members to do things even he doesn't understand -- another great source of tension.

Yet I feel like the episode doesn't dwell nearly long enough in this interesting state. Chakotay argues for the crew to be "read in" on the crisis, and Janeway caves too quickly. The secrets and strife among the crew are resolved too quickly, and then it just becomes another mission. (Even "redshirts" seem to know about Omega soon enough -- a bunch of background ensigns are milling about on the Away Team later in the story.)

After resolving the most interesting aspect of the plot a third of the way into the episode, the writing actually stumbles onto another interesting story element. But it doesn't fully engage with this one either. The alien society who has discovered Omega is facing a global crisis, the literal end of their entire society. Only Omega will rescue them, we're told... and Janeway must take it away from them. Yes, the galactic stakes are very high here, but there's no musing about "the needs of the many," no dark night of the soul where Janeway must accept that she's condemned an entire planet to armageddon for "the greater good." In the midst of an episode about religion, you'd think there would be room for a serious examination of the morality behind enabling an apocalypse (even if you think your reasons are noble).

There's little examination of the fact that it's Janeway specifically in this position. Tuvok points out that her desire to destroy Omega contradicts the scientific curiosity that's normally key to her character. She simply says "the final frontier has some boundaries that should not be crossed," and that's that. Wouldn't having Janeway herself wrestle with this contradiction have been at least as interesting as playing another conflict between her and Seven of Nine?

And yet, for all these roads not taken, the episode does still serve up a number of compelling scenes. Seven of Nine makes an unusually impassioned plea to Chakotay at a spiritual level. She experiences the character growth of actually respecting the command structure (mostly) this time, rather than rebelling -- and she's basically rewarded; she gets to "see God" before Omega is destroyed.

Then there's a sprinkling of comedic moments that all work pretty well. Kim and Tuvok spar a couple of times in the episode, first over a kal-toh board, and later with the amusing exchange: "Wanna know what I think?" / "No." Seven is put in a leadership role, and responds by assigning Borg designations to her subordinates. So it's not like this episode is missing out on good stuff and giving us nothing, it's just missing out on good stuff.

Other observations:

• Janeway mentions Carol Marcus and the Genesis Project, citing a nice (and prominent) bit of Star Trek lore.

• Roxann Dawson appears as B'Elanna in only one scene in this episode. She went into labor immediately after filming it, so her remaining scenes in the episode were hastily rewritten to give her lines to other characters. She would be on maternity leave for a few more episodes... though to my mind, would return to work fully in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"The Omega Directive" is a fun sort of swashbuckling adventure, but it feels like the potential was there for a far more insightful and introspective story. I give it a B-.

Return to Wakanda

This past weekend, the theaters were once again ruled by Marvel, as the much-anticipated Black Panther: Wakanda Forever arrived to huge audiences. I mostly enjoyed it, but found it to be an uneven movie with high highs and low lows.

The highest of the highs was how many significant characters in this movie were women. The movie's main villain was a man... but beyond him, you have to go pretty deep into the cast list to find another one. This is Letitia Wright's movie, and she steps into the lead role wonderfully. Angela Bassett commands the screen in every scene she's in. Danai Gurira gets to shade her formerly "all badass, all the time" character with meaningful emotion. Lupita N'yongo and (perhaps this is a spoiler for you?) Julia Luis-Dreyfus appear in a more limited fashion, but the former brings the heaviest-hitting drama as the latter twirls a figurative mustache in a fun way. And new-to-the-franchise Dominque Thorne has a significant role to play as well.

In my mind, all that makes this by far the most feminist MCU movie to date -- more so than the films that were explicitly touted to be that: Captain Marvel and Black Widow. And of course, it can be no coincidence that director and co-writer Ryan Coogler was, once again, the one to really "level up" the MCU in representation and diversity. Of course, he did all that while having to delicately navigate the death of Chadwick Boseman. As you would expect, the movie makes a major element of that loss -- and the scenes addressing it are generally the most impactful of the movie.

So all that is clearly in the "plus" column. But there's a lot about the movie that I'd put just as clearly in the "minus" column. (And here's where the spoilers really begin.) It feels like we're approaching a point where more characters in the MCU have an "Iron Man suit" than don't, and the familiarity is starting to breed contempt (or at least boredom) for me. All action sequences with a besuited character are feeling pretty interchangeable to me, and I feel like I've seen everything that can be done there.

The tactics, small and large scale, are laughably bad throughout the movie. When facing enemies who must wear face masks to breathe, not once do we see one of those masks ripped off. And the inevitable final (CG laden) showdown to end the movie? The narrative suggests that the Wakandans could pick anywhere they want that to happen, but they choose to play an "away game" on the enemies' home turf of the ocean. Seems pretty dumb to me.

The pace dragged a lot in the middle of the movie, and I think a lot of that unfortunately had to do with the go-nowhere CIA subplot. Julia Louis-Dreyfus' role here affects nothing in this movie's narrative. This felt like the most transparent "we're just setting up the next phase" subplot in the MCU since Thor went for a cosmic spa day during Age of Ultron. This was more entertaining, because Julia Louis-Dreyfus is, of course, entertaining. But it's 10-20 minutes of unnecessary distraction that could be lifted from this movie to speed things along.

So with heavy weights on both sides of the scale here, I'd give the movie a B-. I do understand the reactions of people who enjoyed it a great deal more; there is a lot to like here. But I found my attention wandering for long stretches (where perhaps other people were more able to coast on the high highs).

Prodigy: All the World's a Stage

The writers of Star Trek: Prodigy clearly know their core audience, focusing each episode on the children they hope will be watching. But they know Trekker adults will be watching too -- and it's for them that the latest episode, "All the World's a Stage," was clearly targeted.

The Protostar crew arrives at a planet who has previously met someone from Starfleet -- an encounter which had a profound impact both sociologically and in the form of a poison corrupting their land. Meanwhile, the Dauntless continues its search for Chakotay... and now, for the people who they believe destroyed a Federation relay station.

Star Trek has done its share of "society polluted by Starfleet contact" episodes (with Star Trek: Voyager in particular doing one with similar plot points to this). Still, I don't believe the telling of this particular story line has ever embraced comedy as fully as this episode of Prodigy, which served up a buffet of delightful references for Star Trek fans. From "James'T" and his exaggerated Shatnerian delivery to "Sool'U" exclaiming "my my" to the phrase "live logs and proper," this episode kept a near perpetual smile on my face.

The way in which the fun serviced a greater theme was quite well done too; the Protostar crew (and Dal most keenly) is feeling a crisis of confidence over not being "Starfleet material," and now through their interactions with these "Enderprizians," they learn that Starfleet is more a way you choose to act than a status someone else bestows on you. Sure -- the revelation was a bit direct, but... kids' show, 22 minutes, you know.

But I did find it a little odd what specific bit of original Star Trek writer Aaron Waltke chose to focus on here. My husband asked me early on: "is this talking about a specific original series episode?" And I really wasn't sure. By the time the shuttlecraft Galileo was revealed, I was rifling mentally through the plotline of the classic "The Galileo Seven," trying to figure out how this could possibly fit. It turns out that Waltke is an even deeper fan of Star Trek than I. (I guess you want some people like that on a Star Trek writing team.)

Ensign Garrovick was featured in the classic Star Trek episode "Obsession," but his fate was not open-ended in any way that sets up this Prodigy episode. Waltke himself has said that he was just inspired that one redshirt in particular had such an important role in one episode of the show, only to never be seen again. He wanted to give the character a big send-off, an "explanation" for why we never saw him again. (As for the shuttle, there were multiple shuttlecrafts name Galileo on the original series anyway; what's one more?) It's fun that a true Star Trek fan got to explore a real bit of minutia now that he writes for the franchise... but it also struck me as weird to essentially do a "sequel" to an episode that wasn't really an episode. (I mean, "A Piece of the Action" is sitting right there -- a lightning rod for fan fiction for more than five decades.)

Still, my big takeaway from the episode was simply that I had fun. I give "All the World's a Stage" a B+. Just when I'm starting to think that maybe I don't need to watch Star Trek: Prodigy, an episode like this makes me glad that I am.

The End of the Fight

Yes, it's ultimately all the new Star Trek shows that make me subscribe to the Paramount+ streaming service. But if I'm being honest, I was often enjoying even more watching The Good Fight. CBS ran The Good Wife for seven fun seasons of character-driven legal drama, and I loved every moment. At that show's end, the creators (Robert and Michelle King) were no more ready to let go of all its characters than I was, and from that was born a six season spin-off starring Christine Baranski -- which itself just released its series finale this week.

Though conceived as a show about a career woman on the brink of retirement suddenly forced to continue working, The Good Fight arrived just as Hillary Clinton lost the presidency that everyone (certainly the Kings) assumed she would win. So right out of the gate, the show transformed into the far more political version of The Good Wife. (Which, let it be said, was pretty political itself; the title referred to the wife of a philandering politician who must "stand by her man.") The Good Fight became more openly critical, sarcastic, even outright angry, and was often ready to meet me at exactly the mood I was feeling at the time.

The spin-off distinguished itself from its predecessor by placing Baranski's lead character in the midst of a predominately black law firm. The show continually added new and more central black characters throughout its run. As the Black Lives Matter movement ascended in the real world, the show more fully embraced these characters and this setting to tell stories quite different from the average (lily white) TV law show.

The emotions and the challenges depicted on The Good Fight were always grounded in reality, even as later seasons grew more and more fantastical. Mandy Patinkin came for a full season to portray the judge at a "civilian" court run out of the back of a copy shop. Andre Braugher arrived in the final season to play a larger-than-life personality more suited to the zany world of Ally McBeal than a serious legal drama. But it was easy to forgive any flights of fancy the show took; the acting was always outstanding, the underlying messages always clear and strong. And the show was always capable of setting all the wildness aside when it wanted to. (A final season episode about trying to save the life of a terminally ill child was one of the strongest of the entire series.)

The series began by bringing just two characters from The Good Wife over. But as it grew more self-assured, all sorts of major and minor characters from the original came to visit the spin-off in delightful ways. Robert and Michelle King (and their writing team) sure knew how to write a memorable character -- and cast the role with an actor who would really make it pop. Guest appearances over the six season included Gary Cole, Paul Guilfoyle, Jane Lynch, Andrea Martin, John Cameron Mitchell, Matthew Perry, Bernadette Peters, Cary Preston, Fisher Stevens, Alan Alda, Margo Martindale, Tim Matheson, Wayne Brady, Wanda Sykes, Alan Cumming, and Phylicia Rashad. (Those were all just the recurring actors; a list of notable one-offs would be even longer.)

And don't let that deep bench distract you from the people who were in the main cast at one time or another over the years: Rose Leslie, Delroy Lindo, Cush Jumbo, Sarah Steele, Justin Bartha, Nyambi Nyambi, Audra McDonald, Michael Sheen, Charmaine Bingwa, John Larroquette, John Slattery, and the aforementioned Mandy Patinkin and Andre Baugher.

The Good Fight was, quite simply, one of my favorite shows of the last few years. It had a few downs, sure, but a lot more ups, and I'd rate it an A- overall. Whether you watched The Good Wife before it or not, I thoroughly recommend it. If you're not willing to subscribe to Paramount just for the Star Trek shows, maybe let this put a thumb on the scales.

Prodigy: Let Sleeping Borg Lie

Each of the modern Star Trek television series strikes its own tone, offering its own "on ramp" to viewers who might not be life-long Star Trek fans. Star Trek: Prodigy in particular is the show that Trekker parents should watch with their children, bringing them into the fandom they love so much. In this gateway capacity, this week's episode introduced the young audience to the apex villain of the franchise, the Borg.

The Protostar crew discovers the unknown weapon embedded in their ship, but are unable to remove it. When they then encounter a Borg cube, they see an opportunity to learn some advanced science that might help the situation... despite Holo-Janeway's warning to avoid the Borg. Elsewhere, Admiral Janeway continues her search for Chakotay, as the Diviner recovers aboard her ship.

I'll just come straight out and say it: I think it was a mistake for Star Trek: Prodigy to feature the Borg. The series was not able to do them justice, and I believe it would not have been possible for them to do so.

I've written about Lower Decks that the Pakleds seemed like the perfect adversary for that series. The writers can maintain the light tone while introducing some jeopardy, and when the Cerritos crew overcomes their adversary, it doesn't feel like they've undermined any critical sense of menace (since the Pakleds aren't threatening to begin with).

The Borg are badass -- even after the later seasons of Star Trek: Voyager chiseled away at their threat level. To feature the Borg in a story where children must overcome them in the end? There's simply no way to do that and have the Borg behave like Borg. Which is why in this episode they capture the Protostar crew without assimilating them right away. They're also generally tame because of other children to think about here: the children in the audience. The Borg are about as close as Star Trek comes to depicting horror, and there's only so much horror genre you can inflict on a young audience. It's okay to show kids scary things... but not too scary.

Another problem in the episode is the breakneck pace. There's a lot of plot being stuffed in here, and so a fair bit of it is confusing. At the beginning of the episode, is Gwyn using the holodeck to recover her own memories by watching some sort of saved "diary" -- or has she reconstructed a recently recovered memory so that she can share it with her friends? If the Borg cube was dormant when the Protostar first encounters it, where did it even come from -- was the ship on autopilot and just happened to come upon it? There's just not enough time to make these elements clear.

Sure, let a group of kids get the drop on the Kazon. But the Borg? Not my favorite moment for Prodigy, and maybe a sign that I should draft a niece or nephew into watching the show with me to properly enjoy it. Without that, this episode was a C- for me.

For Your Own Sake, For the Future of the Supreme Court, Vote Democrat

Tomorrow is election day in the United States. If you are eligible to vote and haven't yet (or haven't made your plans to do so tomorrow), then let me use this infrequent post about politics to do so -- and to urge you to vote for Democrats.

I could offer reasons enough to have my blog become all politics, all the time. But let me focus on one reason in particular: the Supreme Court. Its six-member conservative super-majority spent last term making one terrible ruling after another, and is poised to do even worse this term (if you can imagine that). Voters need to make sure that for the foreseeable future, any new justice appointed (thorough vacancy, or should the need for court rebalancing become even more obvious) must be appointed by a Democratic president and Senate.

You are of course aware of the Supreme Court's ruling last term in Dobbs, a case which overruled Roe vs. Wade, removing the nationwide right to an abortion. That wholesale degradation of women's freedom would be bad enough all its own. And yet, that ruling was in fact so appalling, drawing so much focus, that it covered for several other rulings that, in any other term, would be the headline-making disaster on everyone's mind.

Right around the same time the Supreme Court was ruling that women should only have rights that would have been recognized two-and-a-half centuries ago (a time when they had almost none), they also released these rulings. They restricted how concealed firearms can be limited in public spaces. (Not their own court, of course.) They declared that the right of someone to pray publicly supersedes the rights of those who might feel coerced to participate because of power disparity. They ruled that the Environmental Protection Agency lacks the agency to protect the environment from power plant emissions (under the specious theory that it's a "major question" that a gridlocked Congress must weigh in on).

And those cases all just come from a period of a few weeks. Don't overlook "highlights" from earlier in last year's term. The court blessed a scheme to take away individual rights, so long as it's rooted in bounties collected by private citizens. It eroded laws separating church and state in a case requiring states to fund religious schools. It ruled that a state can violate your constitutional rights in a criminal proceeding, so long as the state assures that such violations don't affect the jury. (Also, they can search your property without cause if you're close enough to a border, and you can't sue anymore if they fail to detail your Miranda rights.) Plus, if a defendant with a bad lawyer should get another bad lawyer to argue that fact? That's your fault; you have no recourse.

If all that isn't enough to make you mad, here are the cases which the Supreme Court has already heard in just one month of its current term -- and the rulings they seem likely to make, based on attitudes during the oral arguments. They will likely rule that universities have no interest in ensuring that their enrollment looks like a cross-section of the country's population. They seem likely to allow even more gerrymandering of congressional districts, ruling that even openly racist drawing of district lines is legal so long as a half-hearted non-racist justification can be offered. Odds are they'll allow the wealthy to pollute the nation's water supply under the theory that it's just too hard to know what water is actually part of the nation's water supply.

Then there are the cases that still lay ahead this term. The Court will be hearing a case that could give a state's gerrymandered legislature final say over election administration -- over any election officials, the governor, or even judges. They will rule on an argument that laws prohibiting discrimination against LGBT+ people are unconstitutional because a person's right to discriminate supersedes the right of the discriminated to secure good and services. And they'll hear dozens of other cases -- any of which could massively affect your life and your rights -- cases that even an avid Court watcher like myself hasn't even really processed yet amid the ceaseless stream of sewage currently flowing from the Supreme Court building.

Something at the Court must change, and soon. Vote Democrat to ensure that when that change comes, it's for the better.

Voyager Flashback: Vis à Vis

"Body thief" episodes of Star Trek have a long history, going all the way back to the original series -- where the final episode ever made was just such a story. Star Trek: Voyager took its run at that plot with season four's "Vis à Vis."

At a time when Tom Paris is beginning to bristle at his responsibilities aboard the ship, a free-spirited alien named Steth arrives with tantalizing hints of a different kind of life. But in fact, Steth covets Paris' comfortable life aboard Voyager -- and has the ability to swap bodies and take that life for his own.

There is a lot to like in this episode. Guest star Dan Butler (perhaps best known as "Bulldog" on Frasier) gives a subtly great performance here in essentially three different roles; his take on Tom Paris demonstrates that he must have studied Robert Duncan McNeill in earlier episodes. McNeill himself seems to be having fun as well. And when, in the final act, Kate Mulgrew gets to sink her teeth into playing a villain, she does so with relish.

All of that is so fun, in fact, that I'm kind of shocked how much I enjoyed this episode once I start to think about all its numerous flaws. Foremost, there's the "circa season one" way it writes Paris as a malcontent just to pave the way for the plot to come; he's acting weird already so that it will seem less weird when an alien has taken his identity. Suddenly, Chakotay is calling him out for slacking, and he's feeling stifled by B'Elanna for no articulated reason. It feels oddly reminiscent of late season two, when Paris faked a misfit act to expose a traitor on the ship... but that was just an act. The only bit of this sedentary unhappiness that feels legit is that Paris has visibly gained a lot of weight -- and that's just the real-world reality of McNeill enjoying easy access to a craft services table in his fourth year as a TV series regular. (The same thing would happen to me, were I so fortunate.)

Not much of this makes sense from the alien Steth's side either, when you think about it. How has be been so successful at swapping bodies for so long without killing the people whose bodies he takes? How stupid does he have to be to try to assimilate into a ship with nearly 200 people, all of whom know Paris to some degree and could spot something to expose him? Yes, he's shown to be quite a smooth talker able to think on his feet, but it's hard to imagine that Tom Paris' life seems so appealing to him that it's worth such a great risk.

Then there are the little inconsistencies. Steth steals what must be a holographic tool (replicator use is rationed aboard Voyager), but is able to take it back to his ship. Steth retains his voice when we see him briefly revert to a female identity, but takes on Tom Paris' voice when he takes that identity. The sheer hand-waviness with the Doctor returns everyone to the right body in the end is laughable.

Ah, but then there are cool little details too. As the series embraces CG more, it allows for things like the alien ship we see here with moving parts on its hull. B'Elanna's mispronouncing of Camaro ("CAM-a-row") is cute. And Steth is an intriguingly progressive character for the time, if you think about it: totally gender fluid, with no one ever commenting on the shift from male to female and back -- and seemingly sexually active. (Steth talks about chasing women with Paris, and it seems heavily implied that he sleeps with B'Elanna while in Paris' body. I'd chide the episode for not digging into the ramifications of that, but it would surely spoil the lighter tone.)

Other observations:

• There are some fun moments for the Doctor. Robert Picardo's pause after talking about the wind whipping through your hair is gold, as is his reaction when Steth-as-Paris strokes his ego.

• There's something about the alien "fast travel" effect that looks to me more like a shrunken object re-enlarging.

• Extra nostrils on a Star Trek alien always seems to be the most distracting makeup addition.

• I've often wondered what it would be like for someone to tell a body swap story without letting the audience in on the fact that a swap has occurred. Could we figure out why someone is acting strangely? We get a taste of that with the fun Janeway plot twist at the end of this episode, but I'm talking a whole episode like that.
  

I really don't quite know how to reconcile all the nits I want to pick here with the fact that it's actually quite a lot of fun to watch. Call this an improbable B? Yes, this could have been a better episode, but it also could have been much, much worse.

Finally -- The Beginning

For years, author Brandon Sanderson had been on my reading list. I enjoy fantasy fiction, he's one of the most recognized names in the genre, so I ought to give him a try -- simple as that. When I finally did get around to Sanderson, I didn't exactly scratch the itch as I've just defined: I began his (excellent) science fiction series, Skyward. But now, I've gone back to where Sanderson began; I've read his first book, Mistborn: The Final Empire.

This first book of Sanderson's career kicked off a series he's still expanding today, set in a world where a dictator rules harshly over a deeply class-divided society. Rebels seek to overthrow the apparently immortal ruler, their best weapon being guerilla tactics employing allomacy, a metal-based magical system.

Mistborn: The Final Empire was first published in 2006. You would expect anyone doing any one job for 16 years to get better at it over time, and this book definitely reflects that. It's not badly written. (Of course it isn't; Sanderson became popular for a reason.) But Skyward is one of Sanderson's most recent creations, and there is a noticeable difference. Not all of the characters in Mistborn are as crisp. Not all of the writing is as tight.

But the setting, the creativity, the ideas? Sanderson had that going for him right out of the gate. The world of Mistborn is a fascinating one, with a unique, intriguing, and elaborately detailed system of magic. (Indeed, there are actually two kinds of magic here, interrelated but distinct in a compelling way. But I leave that for the book itself to reveal.) Metals are literally consumed by the magic-user, ingested and burned off for some particular ability they grant. And seemingly with each new chapter, some new aspect of this is revealed.

There is, of course, a plot here too -- and a decent one. But the way this story operates in a fascist society isn't as vivid as the fantasy elements. Mistborn is a product of its time, I suppose, in which fascism was more distant, a more abstract evil useful for storytelling. It's borrowing heavily from other fantasy staples too, most clearly in it centering on a Chosen One character, anointed by destiny to rid the world of an ancient villain, mentored by a secretive magic wielder. So I center on the setting as the most compelling and different element here -- though it's worth noting that Sanderson does depart from the conventions in meaningful ways as the book unspools.

I would give Mistborn: The Final Empire a B. If you're not an enthusiast of fantasy, it's probably not a book that's going to win you over. But for fantasy readers, it's solid and enjoyable, and seems a strong enough effort for one of the titans of the genre. And I will be proceeding with the series.

Prodigy: Asylum

There was a time when a "lull" in Star Trek content meant years on end with absolutely nothing new. These days, it's a lull when the Star Trek series actively releasing new episodes is aimed squarely at a different audience. Star Trek: Prodigy, the kids' show, is back for the second half of its twenty episode season, with "Asylum."

The Protostar crew has been racking up "good deeds" they hope will offset the fact that when they arrive with the Federation, they'll be doing it in a stolen starship. They pull up to a remote Federation station with only one inhabitant -- and while they receive a warm-ish welcome, their presence soon triggers a disaster aboard the station. Elsewhere, Admiral Janeway remains on the trail for Chakotay and his ship.

There's an undeniable sense of whiplash going from Star Trek: Lower Decks to Star Trek: Prodigy; the two shows might be striking almost the most different tones possible underneath the larger Star Trek umbrella. (It really highlights the folly of thinking of "animation" as a single genre.) I constantly have to remind myself that if I'm choosing to watch this show, I can't be too upset about the plots being simple, the characters being innocent, the pacing being rushed. In short, I can't expect Prodigy to, any episode now, become one of my favorite Star Trek shows. I'm not the target audience.

Still, I find myself wanting to stick with Prodigy because it does still offer plenty to enjoy. For one thing, the animation is simply beautiful. This single half-hour episode spans a chase sequence through a detailed underwater environment, the emotional subtlety of the flashback scene between Janeway and Chakotay, and an action-packed climax full of massive and dangerous explosions. The animators of Prodigy can pull it all off, big or small, quiet or epic.

And the sentiments of a Prodigy episode (certainly this one, at least) still feel like "what Star Trek fans like about Star Trek." Different characters face small crises of confidence in the episode (Dal with reaching the Federation, Zero with the mental damage they caused Gwyn, Rok-tahk with her own abilities), and each must overcome them. Sure, some of this is basic, archetypal stuff -- but the core audience here probably hasn't seen many of these tropes before. (I'm sure kids haven't seen A Beautiful Mind, for instance, so Rok-Tahk visualizing complex equations is a brand-new thing.)

Even in "kids' show adjusted terms," though, a few parts of the episode still clanged for me. Not giving us a "previously on" opening package to catch up on the story (after more than eight months) felt like a weird choice. Having the Starfleet officer on the station abandon a bunch of kids to die felt pretty reprehensible, even for someone who's been isolated for a while. The jeopardy at the end, with Rok-Tahk having to tell them all exactly when to jump, felt pretty false with Janeway able to steer the ship and rescue them. (At least that's exactly what she did.)

At the same time, the show does aspire to bigger things in terms of ongoing story. Arriving at part of the Federation only opened up the mysteries, with Dal's identity tripping some kind of alert. The Diviner is not dead, so that story line from the first half of the season isn't wrapped up after all. And the real Janeway's pursuit of Chakotay remains an element that doesn't feel aimed at the kids at all -- not in its emotional heft nor in its clear appeal to people who watched a 25-year-old television show.

I'd give "Asylum" a B. Would I watch Prodigy if "Star Trek" weren't also in the title? Surely not. But it remains good enough to keep a fan like me on board for now.

The Dream Becomes a Nightmare

I've been quite slow in finishing season one of The Sandman on Netflix (though faster than Netflix itself in announcing whether there will be a season two). I think that was a combination of the high number of buzzed-about shows to keep up with right now, and the fact that I found The Sandman to be a very difficult watch.

Adapted from Neil Gaiman's beloved comic book series, The Sandman focuses on one of of his favorite themes of gods and god-like entities interacting with the world of mortals. The literal Lord of Dreams is imprisoned by a human for a prolonged period of time, wreaking havoc on the world and setting into motion a series of quests he must complete once he regains his freedom.

Part of what kept me from getting into The Sandman was its unusual format. It's very much an adaptation of its original source material, and that format is not quite episodic and not quite serialized. Stand-alone issues of the comic become stand-alone episodes of the show; multi-issue arcs from the comic run for a handful of episodes before being wrapped up and left behind. It's a double-edged sword of an approach to making a television show, trying to blend the best parts of both approaches: if you don't like one episode, you might be able to just come back for the next and get something else; at the same time, a serialized cliffhanger might also pull you in and keep you engaged.

For me, the result was simply uneven -- and not helped by the fact that the least engaging episodes of the show are absolutely the earliest ones of the season. The first episode itself is one of the dullest of all, spending too much time on characters that won't even be around after the long jump forward in time before the "story proper" begins. And the main character's initial quests to round up three of his prized possessions feels too much like a surface-level RPG plot that would be much more fun to play than it is to watch.

But hang in there, and things do pick up. One of those three objects kicks up a mostly stand-alone episode of its own that's a highlight of the season. That's immediately followed by a contemplative and sad stand-alone episode about death that's the best episode of all. And that is immediately followed by a far more compelling multi-episode arc than the first half of the season featured.

The real issue, though, is more literally that the show is very difficult to watch. It's presented in an unusual aspect ratio -- none of the many standard options you'll come across in film and television. The picture is artificially compressed from the sides; online sleuths determined that the picture is forced into a space only 93% as wide as it was actually captured. You would think this a subtle change, but the effect is that everyone and everything in the show is thinner than your mind knows it to be. People are unnaturally skinny. Circles become ovals. Faces become hard to make out.

The creators of the show went on a wide-ranging media blitz saying that this was a deliberate creative decision on their parts, to lend the entire show a "dream-like" quality in honor of its protagonist. I found it to be the most off-putting creative choice made for any television show I can ever recall watching. It puts the "too-dark" episodes of Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon to shame. It rendered everything unnatural and false, and it affected every single frame of every single scene in every single episode. I could never NOT be aware of it, no matter how many episodes I watched. It always felt like my television was messed up. A familiar actor would show up in an episode, and I could fall out of the story trying to clock "where do I know them from?" for the entire duration, because their faces were too distorted to recognize.

Which is a shame, because the cast of this show is remarkable. Tom Sturridge anchors as the main character, though he's giving a purposefully flat and aloof performance. That leaves room for the considerable array of guest stars to shine -- David Thewlis, Patton Oswalt, Jenna Coleman, Gwendoline Christie, Kirby Howell-Baptiste, Arthur Darvill, Joely Richardson, Mason Alexander Park, John Cameron Mitchell, Stephen Fry, Mark Hamill, Charles Dance, Derek Jacobi, and on and on and on and on. This cast is stacked with great people, and many great performances... that are super hard to see.

So all told, I would have to give The Sandman a B-. There is a grade A show in here, to be sure. Fixing the obnoxious visuals alone would get the season as a whole to a B+ for me. Ignoring the weaker start would get the show to an A- at least. The Sandman is watchable, for sure.... it's just not watchable.