Time Slipping Away

I am sure you have too many shows in your television diet to make room for a recent single-season show that was canceled on a cliffhanger. And yet, I feel compelled to say a few words in praise of Time Bandits.

Streaming on Apple TV+, Time Bandits is a series re-imagination of early 80s film written by Terry Gilliam and Michael Palin. It's about a young British kid who falls in with a band of utterly inept thieves who bounce around time looking to steal valuable loot. They brush up against historical figures while trying to avoid the agents of the Supreme Being and Pure Evil, both of whom want the magical map they use to move through time portals.

It's been a long while since I've seen the original movie. I imagine it will be heretical to many for me to say this, but I don't remember it being particularly good. And more heretical still to say that my comic sensibilities don't really overlap much with Monty Python. But they do tend to overlap with the sensibilities of Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi, creators of What We Do in the Shadows and Wellington Paranormal. Here, they've teamed with Iain Morris to put their own spin on the Time Bandits premise. And if you like either of those other two shows, I feel confident you will enjoy Time Bandits.

But perhaps the real secret sauce of this TV series is its main star, Lisa Kudrow. She plays Penelope, the leader ("but really, we have no leaders") of the bandits -- and her comic skills and timing make everything about this show measurably funnier. Friends fans: imagine a character as flighty and scattered as Phoebe, but give her a massive ego and exaggerated self-confidence. That's Penelope. And she's hilarious. (Really, the whole cast is solid. But Lisa Kudrow is next level.)

Over the course of 10 episodes, you quickly come to understand how Time Bandits was canceled. It looks like a preposterously expensive show to make. There's constant jumping into new time frames, requiring new sets, guest actors, and costumes. And this isn't Doctor Who style time travel, where most things can look like someplace within a short drive of London. The Time Bandits visit the Prohibition-era United States, the African desert, the Mayan Empire, and the Ice Age, among other stops. Time Bandits surely would have needed an off-the-charts viewership to justify these costs. And given that Apple TV+ has already announced the cancellation of the show after one season, it's clear they didn't get that.

I'll be direct: the show ends on a cliffhanger (that will now never be resolved). But personally, I find it light enough to not be too upset by that. After 10 episodes of watching these characters bumble their way out of any crisis they bumble into, I really don't need to know the particulars of how they get out of this last one. I think I can just appreciate that I got 10 half-hour episodes that made me laugh. Maybe they want to make me try the original movie again some time, even. (But What We Do in the Shadows made for a far better TV series than a movie; why can't it be the same for Time Bandits?)

I give Time Bandits a B+. It may not stand the test of time, I suppose (ha!), but I think many people reading this would find it fun.

Prodigy: Ascension, Part II

I last left Star Trek: Prodigy right in the middle of a two-part episode. So even though Lower Decks premiered with two episodes this week, I feel compelled to circle back and pick up "Ascension, Part II."

The showdown against Acensia's massive warship continues. Voyager is critically damaged -- but the Protostar is still in action, as is a fighter squadron with Dal and Ma'jel. To save everyone, one of our heroes must make a major sacrifice.

I had been hoping for some answers in the second part of this episode: where did Acensia get all these wonderful toys, and how did she capture Wesley Crusher? Nope. This episode is really just the second half of a more traditional one-hour episode of Star Trek. Though it is an especially cinematic one, with loads of big space combat action.

But the action is more tailored to the characters in this second part, which I found to be an improvement over part one. The fighter squadron subplot allows room for two big character moments. Dal gets to show his doubtful fellow pilots that his more instinctual brand of wild flying has its merits. And Ma'jel actually adopts those methods, in a moment where she finds the limits of pure Vulcan-style logic and is able to think outside the box.

Everything builds to a big hero moment for Zero. On the one hand, Zero has made sacrifices a few times already this season, arguably undermining the impact of this moment now. But on the other, everything leading up to this has demanded less of Zero than now. This is the moment where they actually must choose to sacrifice their corporeal body to save everyone. Intellectually, it feels like an easy choice -- and Zero being such an intellectual character, of course that's the choice they're going to make. Still, Zero is giving up a lot, and I think the show makes the emotional weight of this clear.

The battle may be over, but there are still a few episodes left -- and Acensia is not yet defeated. So I'll give "Ascension, Part II" a B-, and continue the march to the end of the season.

Night of 1,000 Laughs?

Saturday Night Live has been running 49 years. It's been the subject of countless retrospectives and documentaries, and has spun off dozens of feature films. But now there's a feature film about it --  specifically, the 90 minutes leading up to the very first episode in 1975. Recorded, on my blog, it's Saturday Night!

I don't know exactly what I was hoping for out of this movie, but in retrospect, I was certainly kidding myself if I expected it to be anything other than the frenetic sprint it was. That isn't inherently a bad thing. If you recall Aaron Sorkin's single-season television show Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, this feels like the vibe he was trying to capture: all of the pressure cooker action of the West Wing, in an environment of entirely different stakes. Loads of rapid-fire dialogue, punctuated by purposefully lowbrow moments of physical comedy. If you like this style of entertainment, Saturday Night is very faithfully working within the style.

But don't hope to scratch beneath the surface of anything here. Outside of the central figure of Lorne Michaels (and to a lesser extent, writer Rosie Shuster -- also Michaels' wife), each person gets perhaps 5 minutes of total screen time sprinkled throughout the movie. That's because between all the actors, producers, writers, executives, and guest stars, there are simply too many characters in this story to service with any meaningful personal arc. The story can only be "the chaos." 

To heighten that story, the movie condenses everything. Much of what is presented is based on real events (though some of it is only loosely inspired by them). Yet events that actually unfolded over months or even years are all crushed into the 90 minutes before the original Saturday Night Live premiere. I don't say this to claim that this movie should have been more realistic, but rather to say that you will know it isn't. No, it's not meant to be a documentary -- but it sometimes feels like it's going so far over the top that it's gilding the lily.

Still, the sprawling cast made me enjoy it most of the way. There are lots of fun renditions of celebrities we know well -- not quite impersonations, but performances that do feel like they capture the essence of the person: Cory Michael Smith as Chevy Chase, Dylan O'Brien as Dan Aykroyd, Matthew Rhys as George Carlin, and J. K. Simmons as Milton Berle. Other performers are making the most of their precious moments on screen, like Rachel Sennott as Rosie Shuster, Willem Dafoe as David Tebet, Jon Batiste as Billy Preston, and Nicholas Braun as both Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson. And Gabriel LaBelle is a good "ringmaster" of it all as Lorne Michaels.

But ultimately, Saturday Night feels like it's going to be much like a typical episode of Saturday Night Live, not one of the landmark episodes like the premiere it dramatized. You might enjoy it while you're watching, and have a few laughs. But it isn't likely to have any staying power, or to be thought of much in the future. I give it a B-.

Lower Decks: Dos Cerritos

Star Trek: Lower Decks is back for its (inexplicably) final season. And even though many fans are still enjoying the 20 episodes of Star Trek: Prodigy that were dropped by Netflix all at once, we get a double dose of Lower Decks to kick things off. First up is "Dos Cerritos."

The Cerritos passes through a spatial anomaly into an alternate universe, where crewmembers interact with versions of themselves whose different choices make them question their own. Mariner faces a version of herself who captains the ship. Boimler sees a version of himself whose achievements seem to be keeping up with his ambitions. Rutherford meets a version of himself who has more deeply embraced mechnical implants. And T'Lyn meets an alternate who says "remarkable" instead of "fascinating!" Meanwhile, Tendi tries to honor her pledge to Orion piracy without compromising her core Starfleet ideals.

It is remarkable/fascinating to me how well Lower Decks continues to concoct its episodes. They almost always manage to tell a "Star Trek" story (complete with moral) and keep jokes flowing at a fire hose pace. This time, the characters have to reckon with "the road not taken," using the tried-and-true Star Trek gimmick of an alternate universe. (And thank goodness, not the Mirror Universe again.)

While everything is presented in a light and humorous framework, there are legitimate crises of identity being expressed here. Rutherford is going through emotional pain and gets to learn whether taking it away really would be better. Boimler deals with a near-universal question about wondering whether he has achieved enough with his time in this universe. Mariner is at a crossroads where she fears slipping back into bad habits, wanting to make different choices this time. And Captain "Becky Freeman" has decided the grass is greener on the other side of the rift. (Even in the "B plot," Tendi is trying to stay true to herself in unusual circumstances.) That all of this fits comfortably in 24 minutes is impressive. That it's funny at the same time is miraculous.

While some alternate (prime?) universe doppelgangers have big, clear differences from our heroes, I enjoy the fun in the more subtle changes -- Ransom's mullet, Boimler's beard (but not a goatee; that would mean he's evil), the slightly darker uniforms, and so on. And speaking of differences, that battle sequence in the opening credits keeps getting freighted with more and and more action; this season, perhaps knowing it was to be the last, they dumped out the toy box and added V'Ger, Tholians, and Apollo.

The Tendi subplot was an equally skillful balance of character and comedy. I appreciate that her sister D'Erika is not simply an unreasonable baddie poised to hold Tendi hostage (and separated from the other main characters) for half the season. D'Erika and D'Vana are sisters, and Lower Decks really is committed to showing that this can be a complicated relationship. Also, it's committed to the deepest of deep cut jokes, bringing back the blue-skinned "Or-ee-ONS" of the original Star Trek: Animated Series to exist alongside the more familiar (to everyone except, apparently, the makers of the original Animated Series) green-skinned Orions.

Lower Decks shows absolutely no signs of running out of steam. And as an animated show, it could run for years and years, longer than any other Star Trek series. It is frustrating to know that behind-the-scenes issues about streaming services, corporate buyouts, and tax loopholes are likely the real reason why the show is ending this season. Still, I'll enjoy what's left while I have it. I give "Dos Cerritos" an A-.

Enterprise Flashback: Silent Enemy

By halfway through the first season of Enterprise, each of the seven main characters had had at least one episode centered on them... except one: Malcolm Reed. Then, with "Silent Enemy," the writers made the unusual decision to create an episode all about how nobody actually knows anything about Malcolm Reed.

When Enterprise encounters a mysteries species that turns out to be hostile, Archer faces a return back home for a weapons upgrade before continuing the mission of exploration. But in quieter moments between alien encounters, Hoshi Sato is at work on a special assignment from the captain. Malcolm Reed's birthday is approaching, and Archer wants to acknowledge him by having chef prepare his favorite food... if only they knew what that was.

There's no getting around it: this episode is pretty terrible for all the characters. The writers are hanging a lantern on the fact that they haven't bothered to flesh out one of their characters, and it feels like an elaborate punking of actor Dominic Keating. This is finally "his episode," you'd think, but he's actually not in it much. This is the moment we'll learn about Reed, but by the end we only know that he's secretive and reclusive, has allergies, and likes pineapple.

All the other information we pick up in the episode is about other people in Reed's past. He comes from a family of Navy men. (What would the Navy even be like in the future of a unified Earth? What would be the point?) He has a sister and two living parents, and a former Starfleet Academy roommate, all of whom profess not to know anything about him.

We get quite a bit of other characters in this episode, but none of them come off looking especially good either. Phlox basically violates doctor/patient confidentiality to help Hoshi. Trip had a girlfriend, we learn, but the long distance relationship didn't work out. T'Pol once again gives great advice that no one wants to listen to -- if you want to know about Malcolm Reed, ask him. Hoshi is so awkward in her sleuthing that she's mistaken by Reed for having a romantic interest.

Not that that last one is really Hoshi's fault, because Archer set her on this "mission." His behavior in this episode is most chaotic of all. At a time when Hoshi is trying to configure communications relays so that everyone can talk to loved ones back home, Archer has her drop everything to plan a surprise birthday party for Reed. (Even if this is a priority, literally anyone else would be less crucial right now to task with that.) When Enterprise comes up against a superior enemy, Archer refuses the  suggestion to ask the Vulcans for help, for no discernible reason other than straight-up racism.

And yet, as bad as this episode feels for all the characters, it feels equally and oppositely good in its "A plot" centered on the mysterious aliens. These unnamed adversaries are one of the creepier things Enterprise has done to this point, and their behavior feels genuinely alien and unknowable. What makes them escalate from observation to aggression? What was their shrill, static-filled transmission -- a threat or an unanswered greeting? (Or something else?)

When the aliens ultimately board Enterprise, we get a long, suspenseful sequence with dark lighting, well composed music, and very little dialogue. The aliens are CG, allowing a look that's a step or two distant from "human actor in makeup." Their attack leaves people comatose, arguably even scarier than if the victims had been killed outright. When they return yet again near the end of the episode, it's with a taunt stitched together of Archer's own words, like a ransom note cut from magazines. In short, I'm really into everything about these aliens. (Even if their ship, being green, kind of reads like "Romulan" early on.)

Other observation:

• Archer at one point refers to "Mount McKinley." In the time since the episode was made, the mountain's name has reverted to what it was always known as by the indigenous population: Denali.

I really feel like they did Reed (and everyone else) dirty in this episode. But they also managed to present a truly alien race, and build genuine tension and suspense. (And if I recall correctly, these aliens never recur, so this menace is never later undermined.) In all, I'll give "Silent Enemy" a B-.

Prodigy: Ascension, Part I

Star Trek: Prodigy headed into the final act of its season two story with another two-part episode. First up, "Ascension, Part I."

Reunions have come at last -- Janeway and Chakotay, Voyager and the Protostar. But it's not all happy. The ships have been ordered back to Starfleet Command for a sure-to-be-contentious debriefing. The timeline is still damaged. And now, Asencia has somehow taken control over her planet using advanced technology, and threatens our heroes with a massive warship.

If you rewind back to the very beginning of the season, Asencia was the main villain of the story, wresting control of the planet Solum before Gwyn could persuade them to follow a more peaceful path. I thought all of that played well. But now, escalating her into a menace that threatens all of Starfleet (and really, all of reality)? I just can't traverse the distance between A and B.

Part of it is that Asencia's vendetta with Starfleet doesn't make a lot of sense to me. There has been some track laid here going back to season one, stemming from the Diviner's hatred of Starfleet and blaming them for... something. But Asencia's anger feels greater and more particular, without (that I recall) us ever getting a real explanation why. If she hates Starfleet this much, could she even stay undercover with them for long without giving herself away? Did Starfleet values not rub off on her in any way? This might all be stuff beyond the scope of a half-hour kids' show to explain, but the absence of it just leaves Asencia a generic mustache-twirling villain.

How exactly she wields so much power is inexplicable too. By the end of the episode, you get a hint of how this might be -- she has captured Wesley Crusher, and perhaps she has extracted some sort of advanced temporal knowledge from him. Though there's a bit of a paradox implied here too. How did she get advanced technology that would allow her to capture Wesley in the first place to then extract advanced technology? Perhaps future episodes will address this (this is, after all, part one of two)... but leaving this unanswered for so long, combined with her already generic villainy, really just feels like it's asking a lot of the audience. Asencia's just the Big Bad now. Go with it.

I suppose at least Asencia does twirl good mustache. Jameela Jamil certainly leans into the vocal performance, relishing all the eeeeevill dialogue and claiming a worthy star in the constellation of Big Bads with powerful ships. (Chang from Star Trek VI looms large; Shinzon from Nemesis is a far dimmer star easily outshone here.) And certainly, Prodigy takes full advantage of its format, serving up nearly 20 solid minutes of action featuring two starships, a squadron of fighters, and all the wild maneuvering you could ever ask for.

But I found it all kind of aimless, and I'm really hoping for more out of part two. I give "Ascension, Part I" a C+.

From Summer to Fall

Now that we're in the final months of 2024, lots of movies I missed in the theater earlier in the year are starting to pop up on various streaming services. I remember during the brief theatrical run of The Fall Guy, the popular consensus seemed to be: "Why is no one going to see this? It's fun and good." But like most people, apparently, I did miss it at the time. Now that I've caught up, I can agree: it's fun and good.

Loosely based on the 1980s TV show of the same name, The Fall Guy follows stuntman Colt Seavers on a wild adventure in Australia. His ex is directing her first major movie, but her star has quietly vanished without a trace. Colt is brought in by the producer to track him down and bring him back to set before the multi-million dollar shoot is derailed.

...not that the plot matters all that much. This movie "understands the assignment," and it is two-fold. One, because the movie's main character is a stunt performer, the movie needs to have some incredible stunts. Two, because The Fall Guy aims to be a "four quadrant movie," the bickering romance between the two leads has to generate sparks. Everything else is incidental.

To the second point first, by casting Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt as the leads, the movie skillfully checks the box. Both actors have plenty of action movies under their belts, and both have played romances on film as well. Asking them to bring both to one movie is straightforward enough. Of course, Hollywood has given us countless rom-coms where two individually appealing actors have zero chemistry with each other... but fortunately, this is not one of them. This movie calls for the two to bicker with one another more than canoodle, but the relationship feels real all the same.

That's critical, because very little about the rest of the movie is meant to feel real. Ultimately, The Fall Guy is a patchwork quilt of wild stunts, but it works because each stunt works. You get car chases, fire gags, motorcycle gags, an extended sequence with a helicopter, fist fights, and everything in between.

It may be that The Fall Guy is just as much a "big dumb action movie" as other action movies I've accused of being too dumb. Maybe I just enjoyed the way that insider humor about movie-making is used as a glue to join all the disparate set pieces together. For whatever reason, I found it to be a fun, breezy watch that fully met its modest goals. (If millions of dollars of high-powered stunts can be called "modest.")

I give The Fall Guy a B+. I'll admit, it's a real cotton candy of a B+, that will evaporate from my brain and probably be completely forgotten at some point. But it's delicious while you're consuming it.

Enterprise Flashback: Cold Front

In late 1990s television, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was one of the few shows blazing a trail for numerous ongoing storylines and plenty of multi-episode arcs. Meanwhile, The X-Files was charting a different course: sprinkling in the occasional "mythology" episode amidst a run of stand-alones. The latter model is what Star Trek: Enterprise adopted for its "Temporal Cold War" story. And its first revisit of this after the pilot episode was a mid-season installment, "Cold Front."

Suliban Cabal leader Silik goes undercover aboard the Enterprise, with an apparent mission to... prevent the ship's destruction? Still, he must be up to no good, asserts a strange new ally named Daniels, who claims to be from the future, fighting for the opposing faction in an elaborate temporal cold war. Archer must decide whether anyone can be trusted.

I feel like The X-Files wasn't just a model for Enterprise in a more sparing use of its overarcing storyline; The X-Files also feels like an inspiration for the notion that "none of this needs to be planned in advance, or make a lick of sense." This is only the second time we're checking in on this Temporal Cold War business, and the storytelling already seems to lack a steady hand at the wheel.

"Cold Front" is peppered with little details that are meant to tease. We see just how much the shadowy "Future Guy" controls the Suliban. We're told that Daniels is from 900 years in the future, and notably only "more or less" human. Daniels claims he's the good guy, yet it's Silik who saves Enterprise from destruction. Daniels gets hit once by weapons fire and basically explodes! We're left at the end of the episode with an ominous locked room, behind the door of which future episodes might spring at any moment.

Yet even with just two data points to pin up on our conspiracy wall -- "Broken Bow" and this -- it's already impossible to consider any of this story without seeming unhinged. Last time, Silik was charged with killing Archer; now his mission is to save his life. How does that make sense? T'Pol points out plot holes in the time travel that aren't actually explained away later. And how do you square any of this with the series' overall ambition to be a compelling prequel? By bringing in future timelines, the series seems to be admitting that being a prequel alone just isn't enough.

But suppose you really do find all this tantalizing, rather than annoying. It's still hard to reckon with the fact that all this material takes up barely half the episode. For some reason, "Cold Front" is also saddled with a story about encountering aliens on a religious pilgrimage to see a solar flare. And this is no minor B plot. Much is made of welcoming these aliens aboard Enterprise and giving them a tour, of Phlox exploring the tenets of their faith, Reed complaining (rightly) about whether they should be allowed into sensitive areas of the ship, Trip "warp-splaining" technology to them they already understand, and more.

And the thing is, all that B plot stuff is the more interesting part of the episode! Because John Billingsley is so strong in his role, Phlox's earnest interest in alien religion is oddly compelling. Because Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather have been so underserved as characters, a lengthy scene in which she puts him up to sitting in the captain's chair -- and he is then embarrassingly caught there -- is quite endearing. Give us more character-building scenes like these!

As always, the production values feel sky high. We get a big crowd of alien extras in full makeup. There are fun CG moments surrounding Silik's inhuman flexibility. There's big action, culminating in what amounts to a skydiving escape. It may not make any sense, but it looks great!

Other observations:

• Ultimately, Star Trek: Discovery would, in passing, tie back to all this Temporal Cold War stuff.

• Of all the things they do to make Silik seem villainous, somehow the thing that affects me the most is the way he calls Jonathan Archer "John." It's just so condescending -- and a great performance by actor John Fleck.

"Cold Front" seems to demonstrate that the writers already have no idea where any of this Temporal Cold War stuff is heading. It jams in two story lines, each one feeling like a distraction from the other. It's not an encouraging start for serialized storytelling on Enterprise. I give it a C+.

Prodigy: Cracked Mirror

Fresh on the heels of serving up tribbles, Star Trek: Prodigy delivered its take on another classic franchise concept -- the Mirror Universe.

The Protostar returns at last to a rendezvous with Voyager. But Voyager is trapped in a schism of reality, with different parts of the ship existing in different parallel universes. Crossing between realities, the Protostar crew tries to restore Voyager... and faces a big obstacle from the Mirror Universe.

I feel like this won't be a popular take among typical Star Trek fans -- but I am well and truly tired of the Mirror Universe. Yes, "Mirror, Mirror" was one of the best episodes of the original series. And Deep Space Nine's initial revisit there was a fun bit of fan service. But as the Mirror Universe continued to crop up on that series, then Enterprise, and then became the core of an entire season of Discovery? Well, sure, it could still be fun on occasion... but it sure felt tired a lot of the time. And yet, if Star Trek: Prodigy is to be Star Trek 101 for a new, young audience, I suppose you have to do the Mirror Universe at some point.

I do find Prodigy's take on it quite strange, though. Maybe the Prodigy writers are as tired of the Mirror Universe as I am, because they don't even devote a full 22 minutes to it. First, they offer up a spiritual sequel to the Voyager episode "Shattered" (albeit involving reality instead of time), a fact which Chakotay even acknowledges in the episode. I have no idea why they did this, except perhaps to bring back Okona one more time "just 'cause." (Or maybe it was to tease us with bringing back Tuvix?)

By giving half the episode's short run time over to other, non-Mirror universes, we admittedly don't have time to tire of what we get here. On the other hand, there's no time to bridge the gap between the state of the Mirror Universe the last time we saw it (chronologically) and now. The Terran Empire is somehow right back on top in a decade? Maybe the real message here from the Prodigy writers is that none of this should be taken too seriously (as the Discovery writers did?).

Or maybe "the message" is not to look for messages in a Mirror Universe episode. (I'm pretty sure there hasn't been one since the original "Mirror, Mirror.") What you're supposed to look for is actors hamming it up and having fun, as Robert Beltran and especially Kate Mulgrew do voicing the Mirror versions of Chakotay and Janeway. And even the whales are evil! That's just fun.

"Just fun." That's the overriding thing about this episode, in the moments I can manage to set all that other baggage aside. Since I thought "Cracked Mirror" was by no means "bad," I suppose I'll give it a B-. But I'm glad that by the end of it, the stage is set for the final act of the season -- the Protostar and Voyager are back together, and it's time to conclude the story.

Misunderstanding the Ass-ignment

This weekend, I went to see a movie, armed with some seriously flawed expectations about the content. Still, once I acclimated to what the movie actually was, rather than what I'd expected, I still enjoyed it.

My Old Ass is a comedy starring Aubrey Plaza as a woman who travels back in time to convince her teenage self not to make some life-altering mistakes. At least... that's the movie I was expecting.

In reality, the movie is actually rather wistful and bittersweet. Aubrey Plaza isn't actually in it very much. And it's not remotely as science fiction as the premise suggests. Really, My Old Ass is a rom-com / coming-of-age hybrid, with a few unusual trappings to distinguish it from the wide number of movies in those two categories.

Once you accept that this isn't going to be a "laugh out loud" kind of movie (you get maybe one or two such moments), you become open to the notion that this might be a movie with something to say. "Will they / won't they" dominates the story, but the final act actually swings in with a deeper message about what you might really tell your younger self if you somehow had the chance. 

The movie is written and directed by the up-and-coming Megan Park. This is only her second movie wearing both hats, but I get the feeling that we'll see more from her. Of course, this is movie-making at a level where every dollar of a modest budget has to wind up on screen, so there really aren't any big names in the cast. They spent the money to get Aubrey Plaza. Other than that? You might recognize the star Maisy Stella from the TV series Nashville, or her love interest Percy Hynes White from Wednesday. Still, the movie demonstrates that a rom-com doesn't have to be about two A-list stars you want to see together; it can be carried by believable chemistry between two actors with good dialogue.

I'd give My Old Ass a B. It's a brisk 90-minute watch, though perhaps better enjoyed when you're prepared for some of its more bittersweet elements. If it sounds interesting to you, you should check it out.

Prodigy: A Tribble Called Quest

Season two of Star Trek: Prodigy has been playing a lot of "the hits" -- we've had time travel shenanigans, cameo appearances, hologram hijinks, and more. Why not throw in some tribbles?

The Protostar crew is looking to collect a special compound to fuel their unique propulsion system, and they find it in abundance on a nearby planet. But that planet is infested with tribbles -- and not just "cute but threatening" garden variety tribbles. These have been genetically modified by a Klingon scientist looking to rid the Empire of its "greatest enemy," and they can now grow to gargantuan size... with deadly teeth.

Yes, this episode is pretty goofy. Still, I think it's actually less goofy than any of the other tribble stories Star Trek has served up before this. The Protostar crew faces a serious problem here, and these tribbles feel considerably more dangerous than usual. (If we hadn't already seen the Loom, I'd have said this might be as much menace as I'd expect this kids' show to depict.)

There's also a serious message at the heart of this too. Just as the best Star Trek episodes usually have some sort of moral at the heart of their stories, the best Prodigy episodes tend to center some key lesson about growing up. Here, it's that mistakes are part of living, and that you need to learn not to dwell on them.

All of the central characters of Prodigy are young adults, but Rok-Tahk usually feels like the most child-like of all. I think that can sometimes make her difficult to center in an episode story. This feels like the perfect story for her, though. Plenty of adults struggle with the stress of perfectionism, and I think children who deal with it feel the stress even more acutely. Sure, you have to shorthand things a lot to fit it into 22 minutes of television; nevertheless, the way Rok-Tahk beats herself up over her mistakes during "act two" of this story feels quite genuine.

The larger, ongoing narrative still progresses amid this clear "side adventure," though. Chakotay continues to be a mentor for the kids. Zero's injury, and the acknowledgement that it is unlikely to heal, is a reminder that their new body isn't going to last for long. And it looks like we've picked up a new character (of sorts) in the form of the ready-to-be-merchandise Bribble.

I'd give "A Tribble Called Quest" a B. Sure, it feels a bit like "filler," but it has something to say -- an impressive feat, given the (admittedly fun) pure silliness of your average tribble episode.

The Hunt Is... A Bit Off

As often as I gush about the quality of the shows on Apple TV+ (and yes, I do that often), not every show on there is amazing. I recently finished one that was much more average-at-best... but I think still worth talking about.

Manhunt is a 7-episode mini-series chronicling the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Adapted largely from a book by historian James L. Swanson, the show follows the flight and pursuit of Lincoln's killer, John Wilkes Booth.

I was warned in advance by a friend that this series was a disappointment. And while that put me off it for a couple of months, I ultimately couldn't not watch it. This was covering a bit of history I found particularly interesting, and the show featured a number of actors I quite enjoy. In the end, those very elements are probably what makes Manhunt feel like more of a letdown that it would otherwise be -- there's the sense that some great potential is going unrealized here.

The story is fascinating, and that's what kept me watching through all 7 episodes even after I'd concluded, "there are many shows I watch (and should be watching) that are better than this." In hindsight, what I probably should have done was read Swanson's original book. But in either form, you're experiencing more of the history that doesn't feel as vital as in, say, a Wikipedia article. You see just how fraught the end of the Civil War really was. You see what a turning point Lincoln's death really was, for how sharply his successor Andrew Johnson turned the country in the wrong direction. You appreciate how wild it is that the lesser-regarded actor brother of a super-well-known actor became an assassin. (It would be like if Liam Hemsworth assassinated the current president or something.)

All of that still comes through... but as a TV series, Manhunt doesn't give it to you in the best way. The writing is pretty rough. Ham-handed dialogue very often gilds the lily. The degree to which said dialogue tries to be period accurate (versus lapsing into something that sounds more colloquially modern) is frustrating. And all of that dialogue is in service of an unnecessarily complicated narrative structure: each episode jumps around in time more than an episode of Lost (and without the same thematic resonance), with on-screen captions informing us that we're "24 Hours Before the Assassination" or "3 Years Before the Assassination" and so forth. The gymnastics don't feel like they amount to much to me.

But the actors sure try their best. Like I said, many of them are another reason I wanted to watch the series in the first place. Tobias Menzies has been great in Rome, The Crown, Game of Thrones, and more. But here he's finally in the lead role, as Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Anthony Boyle, whose grounded performance and effective narration guided viewers through the compelling Masters of the Air, here twists his skills to play the depraved John Wilkes Booth. Perennial "that guy" Glenn Morshower (who 24 fans will certainly recognize) gives a great turn as Andrew Johnson. Patton Oswalt and Matt Walsh are cast wonderfully against their comedic personas in a pair of dramatic roles. Lovie Simone is part of the most emotional story arc of the series, as Mary Simms.

...but all of them are having to wrestle with that unpolished dialogue I mentioned, having to rise above the oddball non-linear narrative. They all give good performances that might otherwise have been great performances.

I'd say Manhunt still manages to reach something like a B- overall. But that's less than I would have hoped for -- and, like I said, less than a dozen other shows I could rattle off the top of my head without pausing for a breath. Still, if you're interested in the chapter of American history, there might be something here for you?

Prodigy: Last Flight of the Protostar, Part II

Picking back up with a two-part episode amid the second season of Star Trek: Prodigy -- this is "Last Flight of the Protostar, Part II."

The marooned Protostar has been repaired... but without critical fuel, it cannot reach space. The deuterium that the ship needs can be harvested from the intense storms on the planet, but this means Chakotay and the cadets must sail into the heart of the storm. Quite literally, in fact, as the Protostar sails along the planet's clouds like a boat on the ocean.

This is a really fun episode, with a clever premise that somehow hasn't been done before on Star Trek. Despite countless references to "old sailing vessels" throughout multiple Star Trek series, this is the first time we're seeing a starship used as one. And I'm glad the idea was left for Prodigy to present, as animation seems like the perfect medium for it. From the colorful backgrounds of the "calm seas" to the dangerous swirling maelstrom of the climax, every part of the voyage looks beautiful.

Not all the animation in the episode is top-notch, though. Prodigy has generally been good about capturing the likeness of the established Star Trek characters brought onto the show. Another such character makes a cameo appearance here... but Beverly Crusher looked so unlike Gates McFadden (at any age) that it undermined the moment. It seemed so "not right" to me that it even made me question the voice; I wound up checking the end credits to confirm that it was indeed McFadden voicing the character.

Which is a shame, because the content of the scene was wonderful. Having Crusher speak as a mother to give advice to Janeway was a brilliant way of connecting the characters. And the writers also wove a great connection to the final season of Star Trek: Picard, with Crusher hinting at the growing distance between her and Jean-Luc at this point in time. It's kind of wild how McFadden played this character for 7 seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation, but only now in the 2020s is she getting her best-ever material to play. (It surely helps to have more women in the writers' room.)

I was also pleasantly surprised by the scenes between Chakotay and Dal. I really do find Dal to be the most annoying character on the show (though I think that's intentional), and so I'm often wary when a story focuses more on him. But Chakotay's mentorship of Dal is a good story for both characters, and I love that the lesson here was essentially that one can be valuable without necessarily being the "leader." (That's something Dal could really take to heart.)

Part II of this story was as good as part I -- and taken together, the real high point of the season so far. I give "Last Flight of the Protostar, Part II" a B+.

Body Positivity

When someone gives me a recommendation of some TV show that seems right up my alley, yet I've never even heard of it before -- chances are it's streaming on Netflix. No other service seems as skilled to me at hiding interesting content in a deep dark hole. The latest example of this was an 8-episode mini-series from last year that I heard about only in the last few months, Bodies.

Bodies begins with a brain-teasing hook: in multiple different time frames -- decades apart -- London cops discover an identical dead body. He appears to have been stripped and dumped, but there are no signs that he's been transported there. He appears to have been shot dead, but there's no bullet in the body and no sign of an exit wound. And as each detective in each time frame pursues their investigation, they find only ever more strange mysteries at play.

Assuming that you're hooked in by the bizarre premise, you're in for a wild ride. Over 8 episodes, Bodies undergoes a massive shift in tone and scale. That initial mystery is clear science fiction... though mixed with a healthy dose of CSI-style crime solving. But each episode becomes more overtly sci-fi. In short order, you come to feel like you're watching some spiritual successor to Lost, spooling out odd mysteries. But the science fiction keeps amplifying, and soon the show feels like it's inspired most directly by Dark (a tragically underseen German show, also buried in the depths of Netflix).

One advantage Bodies has over either of those inspirations is that it was only ever conceived to last 8 episodes. Any mystery it introduces does have an answer, and not one that will be withheld for long. But there are disadvantages too. Lost was operating on a second level apart from the "island mysteries," telling moving stories about the characters and quietly commenting on the human condition. Bodies is not remotely so profound; there are subplots involving each detective in each time frame, but their personal trials never seem drawn as sharply as the overall sci-fi elements. And Bodies isn't ultimately as clever, either; Dark does a much better job at crafting a labyrinthine puzzle that still holds together once you've seen all the pieces.

Still, it doesn't have to be a competition. After all, there's neither new Lost nor new Dark on your TV screen anymore, so if another show wants to come along and scratch that itch -- even if somewhat less effectively -- why not let it and enjoy yourself? There are numerous actors in the cast that will be unfamiliar to you, and you'll probably find at least one you want to look for in the future. There's a stylish production quality throughout -- no small feat for all the radically different time periods that must be portrayed.

I would give Bodies a B. Sure, there are things right now that better earn the mantle of "must watch TV." But it deserves to be watched more than I expect it will, deep in the Netflix basement.