Enterprise Flashback: Anomaly

Having set out to tell a season-long story in its third year, Star Trek: Enterprise may have been feeling pressured to convince the audience they could sustain one narrative for that long. Maybe even the writers needed to convince themselves, by dumping enough toys out from the toy box to play with for 24 episodes. I feel some thinking like this explains the disjointed, overstuffed episode "Anomaly."

When Enterprise is partially disabled by the spatial anomalies of the Delphic Expanse, pirates swoop in and steal valuable equipment and supplies. The hunt to recover what was taken leads them to a large and mysterious sphere, hidden inside a powerful cloaking field. But how far will Archer go to reclaim the losses?

"Anomaly" zigs and zags from one thing to the next, never really committing to being about any particular thing. In the beginning, the episode seems to want to fulfill the promise of its title, by focusing on the strange phenomena in this region of space. We've seen tastes of how weird the Expanse can be, but now matters escalate with distorted walls and floors, pockets of zero gravity, and a truly odd incident in the mess hall where all the food suddenly flies to the ceiling. (And it looks like a large part of that scene was accomplished with practical, in-camera effects. Well done!)

But I guess there just isn't enough juice to squeeze from the anomalies alone -- at least, not when our heroes aren't meant to solve their problems by the end of the episode. So in short order, Enterprise comes up on a derelict ship that's been raided by pirates... and then are set upon by the pirates themselves. After some fun action that sees shoot-outs, Trip crawling over the warp engine, and fun use of the electrical arcs that always spring from malfunctioning Star Trek devices, the episode has taken an abrupt turn.

Suddenly, we're in the middle of an episode that feels rather derivative of Voyager's "The Void": our heroes are trapped in a region of space and low on supplies. But to change things up, our captain here is not determined to stay true to ideals of friendship and cooperation. Instead, Jonathan Archer descends into darkness as he tortures a prisoner to get information on his pirate buddies.

No doubt the writers are angling to show us a new Archer. Once again with this season, I imagine they're taking inspiration from 24, whose protagonist famously stops at nothing for the "greater good." But Archer has been a bumbling boy scout for two seasons. Even though he's been in the Expanse already for at least 6 weeks (with another 6 week journey before that just to get there), it's been just two episodes of screen time. With an entire season still ahead in which we could track Archer's journey of moral compromise, I feel like we're rushing to it too quickly here without earning it.

Whether you're on board for this grittier Archer or not, you barely have time to settle in before the episode shifts again. Enterprise discovers this ancient sphere, and the crew wonders what its relationship might be to the region's strange anomalies. But we're not in the mode of exploration and mystery for long; soon enough, the ship is in a dogfight with pirates as they try to hack the enemy's systems and download information on the Xindi. It is a return to action, something this series is generally good at... but the Macguffin of the Xindi database is yet another thread woven into an already-full episode.

Other observations:

• Travis Mayweather is really a glorified extra on the show now. At one point, T'Pol talks about him by name, and he just nods and walks away without saying a word.

• Reed telling Trip not to be "so cynical" is pretty rich, given the fatalistic reactions we've seen from Reed in tight spots before.

"Anomaly" is just all over the place. Its about spatial distortions... no, pirates... no, Archer's darkness... no, this weird Death Star thingie... no, a Xindi database! And it doesn't stay with any one of those things long enough to coalesce into something interesting. I give it a C+.

Life Sentences

Through multiple series on Netflix, I've become a fan of writer-director Mike Flanagan. Author Stephen King has become a fan too. Flanagan's adaptation of King's Gerald's Game -- thought to be an unadaptable book -- was so creatively successful that King allowed him to film a sequel to The Shining that even acknowledged the existence of the Stanley Kubrick movie that King despises.

Every now and then, usually in one of his novella collections, Stephen King offers up a story outside the borders of the horror genre for which he his known. When they're adapted into movies (as all his writing inevitably is), they often garner more acclaim than than the horror films; The Green Mile was Oscar-nominated, Stand By Me is widely loved, and The Shawshank Redemption (according to the users of IMDb) remains "the best movie ever made."

That's a long wind-up, but it's all to say that I was really interested in what Mike Flanagan, who has won me over with his work in horror, could do with a non-horror story from the "master of horror." That new movie is The Life of Chuck.

Part of the reason for the long wind-up is that I feel like I can't actually say much about the movie itself. The Life of Chuck isn't exactly a story that turns on a "twist," but I do feel like the more you know about it going in, the more of the essence of it would already be dribbling away. Suffice it to say that the title is not a misdirection. It really is the story of the life of one Chuck Krantz, divided formally into a three-act structure... but with the three acts presented in reverse order. It touches on many emotions and themes along the way, but is primarily a story about finding the joy amid hardship and loss.

Anyone who has watched those Mike Flanagan projects I linked to in my intro will know that he likes to work with the same actors again and again, always picking up new performers along the way, but staying fiercely loyal to his "repertory company." The Life of Chuck is no exception; you'll see Flanagan staples like Kate Siegel, Samantha Sloyan, and Rahul Kohli. Relative Flanagan newcomer Mark Hamill gets an especially juicy role in the last half ("act one") of the movie.

But The Life of Chuck brings many other people to the mix -- many of whom it would be great to see integrated into the "company" -- including Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan, Jacob Tremblay, Carl Lumbly, and Matthew Lillard. Mia Sara, who had formally retired from acting, came back to work with Flanagan. A huge child talent has been brought to film in Benjamin Pajak. You get exquisite narration from Nick Offerman. And other recognizable faces are happy to turn up just for one fun scene, people like David Dastmalchian and Harvey Guillén.

And of course, you get Tom Hiddleston in the title role. Interestingly, the sprawling nature of the story -- incorporating dozens of characters and spanning many decades -- means that Hiddleston actually isn't in that much of the film. But it all absolutely turns on his performance. One scene in particular, at the very heart of the movie, is very much the make-or-break moment for the entire story. Together with scene partners Annalise Basso and Taylor Gordon, Hiddleston musters all his considerable charisma into a completely physical performance that encapsulates everything the story is about.

I enjoyed The Life of Chuck very much... though I would not say it's without faults. By the time the entire narrative has been revealed, it's unclear why the opening of the story ("act three") needed to go on quite as long as it did. I'm also not sure whether that one key scene in the middle, good as it is, can alone sell you on the notion of an entire life lived to the fullest. Still, I did find the movie joyful and uplifting. And the sprawling (and excellent) cast alone feels like reason enough to give it a try. I give The Life of Chuck a B+.

Enterprise Flashback: The Xindi

Season three marked several changes for Star Trek: Enterprise -- most notably the beginning of a season-long story arc with the episode "The Xindi."

Weeks into their exploration of the Delphic Expanse, Enterprise seems no closer to locating the mysterious Xindi who attacked Earth. Now they have a lead that a Xindi might be imprisoned on a nearby mining colony. But to get information from him, they might need to stage a prison break.

As we get into season three, we'll see whether the Xindi arc really changed this series that much. But two other notable changes with this episode suggest to me that this effort to reform this series and increase ratings was misguided and no more than skin deep.

First, the show officially changes its title at this point, from simply Enterprise to Star Trek: Enterprise. When the series was created, a bunch of suits made the call that somehow the name "Star Trek" was an albatross around the show, an off-putting moniker that might keep the masses from tuning in for their more action-oriented (and sexy!) science fiction show. Now, suits decided that not calling it Star Trek was dragging it down, as though there were hordes of Star Trek fans out there who either didn't know this was a Star Trek show, or who would somehow come back and try it again now that the words "Star Trek" were officially in the name. Regardless, this is all changing the wrapping paper on the same gift.

We also get the "Yacht Rock"-ification of the already-atrocious main title theme. Having dealt with complains about "Faith of the Heart" for two years, the Powers That Be decided the way to "fix it" was to give it a bouncier remix with a furiously strummed guitar and a splash of percussion. In a vacuum, personal taste could easily lead you to find this version better or worse -- but in the context of the show, it feels undeniably worse to me. A key problem of "Faith of the Heart" is how terribly it butts up against whatever tension-filled teaser the series is trying to set up each episode. This Xindi story arc, by its nature, sought to raise the stakes every episode, but now the contrast with the theme song was even worse, smash cutting from action and tension to something you'd find right around 100 on the FM dial in every major radio market of the time.

In this day and age, though, both those changes are easily swept away by the "Skip Intro" button. So enough of that, let's talk about "The Xindi" as a start to the new season. It's... not great either.

If the concern was that Enterprise (excuse me -- Star Trek: Enterprise) was only appealing to a dwindling audience, it's wild how much this episode doubles down on all the same stuff it's been doing, stuff that presumably drove away others who had sampled the show. T'Pol now has catsuits in multiple colors! We've escalated from lubing up in the decon chamber to back rubs and shirtless boob-cupping, masquerading as "sleep aid" meditation!

Also, they are definitely trying to chase the success of 24. Not only have they embarked on a season-long story arc, but they've added a heaping dose of Jack Bauer to their character recipes -- both Trip and Archer have different moments in this episode bordering on the "who do you work for?!" style torture that was one of 24's signatures. And things are grittier throughout, with plot points involving a severed finger, crawling through sewage, and air ducts with fireballs.

But it seems the series still fails to recognize what the best or most interesting thing is about any given episode. Here -- to me, anyway -- it feels like the fun revelation is that the Xindi aren't a single species, but five different species with factional conflict among themselves. Except that the way the script is structured, that isn't a revelation. The episode opens with a conference that just shows us all the Xindi right out of the gate. So when Phlox later discovers there might be two Xindi species, akin to Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal ancestors on Earth, it just falls flat. And all for what? To bookend the episode with the most cliche of villain monologuing?

Or how about giving the MACOs some compelling scenes, if you're trying to make such a big deal out of a new military force being here? Despite the presence of two significant TV stars -- one recognizable at the time (Steven Culp) and one on the cusp of fame (Daniel Dae Kim), the MACOs really don't do much. They're part of a big action sequence at the end, but Enterprise has staged many good ones over its two years, and this one doesn't feel like anything special. About all that's different for the presence of the MACOs is that Reed is even more annoying than usual in this episode, whining about how they're taking his job. (Maybe if he'd been doing his job with any skill whatsoever, they wouldn't be there in the first place)

Other observations:

• Two of the Xindi species are rendered in CG. The aquatic ones look pretty good -- helped by the fact that they don't have to be on camera at the same time as actors in sci-fi makeup. The insectoid Xindi, on the other hand, have problems with lighting, and don't quite seem to be believably in the space.

• Boy, the exposition explaining the new "command center" is super awkward. Archer has a pretty awful "as you all know" speech about it, as the camera tracks him all the way around the room to show off the set.

I feel like "The Xindi" kicks off this season in a rather lackluster way. Filled with mindless action and laughably gratuitous sex appeal, it promises nothing new the show hasn't already been doing. I give it a C+. But of course, it really is just setting the table. Perhaps the meal yet to come will be better...?

Now With More Pirates!

Years ago, I wrote about the board game Maracaibo -- a beast of a game from designer Alexander Pfister that ultimately proved to be too much for my gaming group. But it has a fair amount in common with another game we enjoy more, Great Western Trail, and so I always remained open to revisiting it.

I still haven't done that. But I have now played the game's spin-off, Pirates of Maracaibo.

Pirates of Maracaibo keeps many of the same core elements of Maracaibo -- you sail around the Caribbean, gather treasure, upgrade your ships, and tromp through the jungle, all trying to amass the most points. But the game board has been replaced with a deck of cards that are arranged on the table like a map, with new cards dealt to replace the ones scooped up by players as you go.

I was interested in Pirates of Maracaibo because it seemed like it might be a simpler version of Maracaibo. Having now played it a few times, I'm really not sure that it is. It feels like some element of every major theme or mechanic in the original game is present somewhere in the spin-off. There's just a lot to understand before you can start the first game. And that probably all makes sense -- if somebody truly wants an "easier Maracaibo," then Great Western Trail exists.

But Pirates of Maracaibo does play faster than its "big brother." It shaves about a quarter of the run time off the Maracaibo experience. Maybe Maracaibo fans who have played that game many times would point to some critical change that the Pirates version is lacking, some element that justifies the longer run time. Or maybe you just like playing longer games -- some groups do. But for me, it's nothing but a good thing that a substantially similar game has been released in a smaller package.

Still, Pirates of Maraciabo is very much a gamers' game. I'm not going to bring any new people to the hobby with it, nor will I convince any people who haven't liked Alexander Pfister's other designs that they'll enjoy this one. (Even if this time, two other co-designers are credited: Ralph Bienert and Ryan Hendrickson.) It all comes down to what my same group thinks of this game versus the others. It's clear that Pirates of Maracaibo isn't a big enough hit to displace another game we're already playing. Whether we like it enough to put it into rotation with the others? That remains to be seen. For now, I'd give Pirates of Maracaibo a B.

Enterprise Flashback: The Expanse

With their ratings falling short of those set by Star Trek: Voyager, the writers of Enterprise decided they needed to do something flashy to grab (or re-grab) viewers. Perhaps inspired by shows like 24, they decided that the upcoming third season of the show would feature a season-long story arc. They laid the groundwork for it with their season two finale, "The Expanse."

When an alien ship attacks Earth, killing millions (including Trip's sister), Enterprise is recalled to Earth to take part in the investigation and plan next steps. While en route, the Suliban show up to bring Archer to meet their mysterious benefactor from the future. He reveals that the attack was the work of the Xindi, a race receiving help from rivals in the Temporal Cold War, to preemptively prevent the future destruction of their planet by humans. Enterprise is then dispatched to the home space of the Xindi, a strange "expanse" of weird phenomena. Their mission: to locate the Xindi and prevent a subsequent, even more massive attack. But stalking them to their destination is the Klingon Duras, looking for revenge on Archer.

There is a lot going on in this episode -- so much that reportedly 10 minutes of additional footage was cut entirely. This one episode has to spin down the stories being left behind -- the Temporal Cold War and Klingon skirmishes -- and set up something that hopefully fans would talk about all summer, bringing people to the show when it returned in the fall. Certainly, they've come up with a hell of a teaser: a strange sphere showing up and carving a canyon through Florida with an orbital laser. (It makes for another awkward smash cut to the show's jarring theme song. They really ought to consider getting a new one for the next season. Wink wink.)

The Xindi attack is not subtly inspired by the then-quite-recent 9/11 terrorist attacks -- and as such, the writing and acting is all rather grounded and realistic. We see the unfolding of news, with estimates of the deaths being revised upward again and again. We watch the characters grapple with their own feelings about what's happened. We see that some of these prequel characters aren't taking this in what other Star Treks would show as the "Starfleet way"; they're going to be out for revenge. Still, the emotions feel rushed to me. I think you really feel that 10 minutes of cut footage -- not for the subplots excised entirely (such as one reportedly involving Archer's Earthbound girlfriend), but in how truncated the remaining scenes feel.

But then, the emotions aren't the point as far as the series is concerned. This is a bid to revitalize the show -- and in retrospect, knowing that it would only last two more seasons (and become the first Star Trek in nearly two decades not to run seven years), you can see just how desperate a bid it was. They've got to throw in every possible hook about this "Delphic Expanse" that they can, to bring you back next season. A ghost story about a ship whose crew got turned inside out? Spooky footage of a Vulcan crew going insane? Mention of the more conventional soldiers Enterprise is bringing with them? New weapons the ship will be carrying? Aren't you excited?!

Well... kind of. I mean, I understand why that's the focus. But again, other parts of the story get shorted because of it. It's strange that they even put on the table the idea that some crew members might elect not to go to the Expanse when they ultimately don't explore the matter at all. (Apparently, Hoshi's feelings on that in particular was another one of the subplots cut completely for time.) T'Pol being recalled by the Vulcan High Command, only for her to give up her commission to stay with Enterprise, similarly doesn't amount to much -- not when they've played the "T'Pol might be leaving" card at least twice before.

It's weird to me that the biggest action of the episode isn't about the Expanse or the Xindi. Instead of showing us a taste of what they hope will excite us next season, the big set piece is a battle between Enterprise and the Klingons. It's staged well enough, and the visual effects look great. But it also kind of undermines the notion that the show will be reinvigorated by this new story line; here's the action they so crave to show us, and it has nothing to do with what's being set up for next season.

Other observations:

• This whole "test attack on Earth" is good for setting up a story, but terrible in its internal logic. The Xindi could have tested that weapon anywhere. Why do it on Earth itself, warning humanity that you plan to destroy the whole planet? 

• I cannot believe we're still playing T'Pol as skeptical about time travel after everything she and Enterprise have been through. It's not logical.

• ...though it's fun that other Vulcans are still "non-believers." I like the scene where a Vulcan psychologist covertly tries to test Archer's sanity.

• When Trip and Reed visit the Xindi damage in Florida, the canyon carved by their weapon looks pretty good. The two stiff CG characters we see "walking" up to the edge in the wide shot look terrible -- really undermining the somber tone the scene is going for.

There are good parts of "The Expanse." Some are even tantalizing in the way the writers hope. But the overstuffing of the episode undermines its effectiveness. I give it a B-.

And with that, season two of Enterprise comes to a close. Overall, I think it's a small step down in quality from season one. But it would have been a much bigger step had things not really picked up near the end of the season. Almost all my choices for the top five episodes of season two come from the last handful of episodes: "The Breach," "Regeneration," "Carbon Creek," "Judgment," and "Cogenitor."

Next up, season three: the show gets an official title change, a revised theme song, and embarks on a year-long story arc. 

Enterprise Flashback: Bounty

As Enterprise was drawing near the end of season two and about to kick off a new ongoing storyline, it first wanted to address an existing storyline: Archer's relationship with the Klingons. That was at the center of "Bounty."

Archer is captured by a Tellarite bounty hunter, who means to deliver him to the Klingons. Meanwhile, a virus triggers early pon farr in T'Pol, who is trapped in the decon chamber with Phlox and quickly losing her emotional control.

Archer hasn't exactly excelled at diplomacy through two seasons of Enterprise, so I do like the idea of putting him in a situation where essentially must use diplomacy -- persuading a morally-conflicted bounty hunter to release him. Guest star Jordan Lund is a good scene partner for Scott Bakula, in the role of the bounty hunter Skalaar. The character is well-drawn, with clear doubts about what he is doing, and equally clear determination to ignore those doubts to achieve his own ambitions.

All of that makes it a bit of a weird choice for the character to be a Tellarite. The pig-faced race from the original series was, like Andorians, a nearly blank slate that Enterprise could put their prequel stamp on and flesh out. But I feel that before building to a more well-rounded and realistic alien race, the writers ought to have begun with the few established touchstones: Tellarites are not just literally pig-headed; they're stubborn, belligerent, and gruff in demeanor too. Skalaar is none of those things: friendly, empathetic, and thoughtful. And I feel like it would be a lot easier to accept this atypical Tellarite if Enterprise had thus far spent any time showing us typical Tellarites.

If the writers aren't following up on any established Tellarite story, though, they are following up on their ongoing Klingon story. This is a good development in my book, as early Klingon episodes of Enterprise had left relations with them in entirely too good a place. I'm much more into this prequel paving the road to the conflict we would "later" see in the original series.

Speaking of Klingons, we get the actor behind one of the most famous Klingons (Gowron) in this episode... playing a different alien. There's no mistaking the voice and eyes of Robert O'Reilly as the character Kago. My only question is why his role is so small, particularly when Enterprise has now demonstrated itself more than willing to bring in veteran Trek actors to be on the show. He does at least make a meal of the quirky bit part.

As for the B plot? After the original Star Trek made pon farr famous, any follow-up series with a Vulcan character is eventually going to do its version. And appropriately, Roxann Dawson directs this episode, since her character B'Elanna was at the center of Voyager's bonus pon farr episode. Who better to sensitively guide Jolene Blalock through some objectively embarrassing writhing and flirting and panting and grinding and everything in between? Still, there's something lurid to her performing all this that didn't seem to be the focus when it was Leonard Nimoy or Tim Russ doing it, you know? The "stripped down inside the decon chamber" element of it all doesn't help. (Though they try to come off as "equal opportunity" by putting Phlox in that situation for the first time.)

Still, Blalock commits to the bit, so it doesn't come off as silly as it could have. And I think it helps that John Billingsley is her scene partner for most of the episode. I've often commented on his strong acting on the show. Here, he wisely avoids the expected "comedic" take on having to rebuff the advances of a chemically-altered friend, instead playing someone caring and sympathetic. (Once she escapes, the brief scene in which she comes onto Malcolm Reed is icky in all the ways the rest of the episode could have been.) I feel like the trio of Blalock and Billingsley in front of the camera, with Dawson behind it, keeps a story that could go so wrong mostly on the rails.

Other observation:

• Phlox again mentions Denobulan medical ethics when bluffing T'Pol, reminding us that his people don't believe in treating a patient against their will. While I do still love that conceit, if it keeps coming up only in situations where Phlox going to violate that rule, aren't we basically painting him as an unethical person?

"Bounty" isn't doing anything particularly novel with its main storyline, so I'll call it a decent-but-shaky B-. In a sense, it's the final episode of this version of Enterprise -- the next episode is the season two finale, which sets up the new "season-long story arc" phase of the series.

Presence, Accounted For

My favorite movie so far in 2025 had been Black Bag, director Steven Soderbergh slick spy thriller in a tight 90-minute package. When I wrote about it, I mentioned that it was the second of two brisk films Soderbergh released just weeks apart. (And both written by David Koepp.) I've now been able to catch up with the other one, Presence.

This is story of the Payne family -- Rebekah and Chris, and their teenage children Tyler and Chloe. Rebekah seems to be caught up in some sort of white collar crime. Chloe is mourning the recent death of a close friend. Tyler is acting out in mean-spirited ways, as Chris struggles to get him back on track. But all these struggles seem smaller than the ghostly presence living in the house they've just moved into. As its existence becomes undeniable, Chloe becomes convinced it's her dead friend Nadia, and means them well. But that may not extend to Chloe's new boyfriend Ryan.

While that synopsis captures the bullet points of the narrative, it leaves out the most distinct element of Presence: the way the ghostly entity of the story is portrayed. The ghost is the camera. Everything unfolds exclusively from the POV of the spirit. Yes, this means that I was "taken in" and watched another "gimmick movie," after noting that the last several movies I watched that similarly revolved around a stylistic conceit were all underwhelming. Needless to say, I was willing to take a chance on Soderbergh (and Koepp) -- and I was glad I did.

For the most part, the movie doesn't want to be caught showing the audience how hard all this was to pull off. It has a conventional scene structure, cutting to black for moments to indicate the passage of time. There aren't really any overly hokey moments where action is weirdly staged for the camera's benefit. And the gimmick serves a point -- the audience can derive a lot about the thoughts and feelings of the "presence" simply by the things it chooses to look at.

But make no mistake, this would have been quite a challenge to film. Everything unfolds in the space of a real house, with Soderbergh handling the camera himself since there was no way to hide a large film crew. Each scene is an unbroken single take (a "one-er"). Sometimes this is straight-forward enough, but several major sequences of the movie last five minutes or longer, crossing between rooms, going up and down stairs, or positioning things in just the right way to support a visual effect.

This all demands a high degree of very technical acting from the cast, all while they still work to give emotionally grounded performances. And reportedly, they did it all in a mere 11-day shooting schedule. So hats off to Lucy Liu, Chris Sullivan, Callina Liang, Eddy Maday -- the core family -- and West Mulholland, Julia Fox, Natalie Woolams-Torres, and Lucas Papaelias, rounding out almost everyone else you see in the movie. No one is really given a moment to submit for Oscar consideration (not that the Academy gives much consideration to horror movies anyway)... but nearly all of them have a theater-like moment where they have to convey a powerful emotion on the spot, regardless of the artifice of the real-world situation. This cast pulled me into the story.

And it's a truly interesting story, in that it's a classic horror "slow burn." To me, it's kind of wild that a movie under 90 minutes could be a slow burn -- there's no time to take it slow. But you go through all the expected phases trying to understand the situation and its ramifications. There are character subplots and arcs, and an appropriately satisfying conclusion. If I were to be down on one aspect of the story, it's that they kind of hide information from you to preserve an upcoming "twist ending." I felt that as soon as one vital piece of knowledge was dropped about halfway through the movie, the conclusion of the story felt obvious. But I don't necessarily mean that as a bad thing. The story proceeds to its correct and inevitable conclusion, given what has unfolded so far -- and by that point I was more than invested enough to enjoy the rest of the journey.

I give Presence an A-. The pairing of Steven Soderbergh and David Koepp really served up a one-two punch to start 2025, and are basically the mark to beat for me for good movies in the months left to go.

Platonic -- Ideal?

Those familiar with Apple TV+ shows have been talking about Seth Rogen's recent satire, The Studio. But in my pile of countless shows (that I'll never claw my way to the top of), I've only recently finished the Apple TV+ show he made before that, Platonic.

Sylvia and Will were life-long friends who drifted apart after Will's marriage. But years later, Will is getting divorced, and the two find themselves back in each others' lives. That may prove a challenge to everyone around them, as each finds themselves at a major crossroads in life: Sylvia is considering a return to the office after years as a stay-at-home mother, and Will is clashing more and more with his business partners at his craft brewery. Plus... the two aren't an entirely good influence on each other.

Platonic is a reunion of sorts for the team that made the comedy movie Neighbors. My review of that movie was mixed, though I did note the comedic prowess of Rose Byrne. Here she is again, cutting it up with scene partner Seth Rogen -- and the two make for a solid comedy duo. Nicholas Stoller, director of Neighbors, clearly recognizes this. He's co-creator of Platonic (with Francesca Delbanco), and I would imagine made it with them in mind.

The very premise of the show helps get around a question I raised about another recent rom-com TV show, Nobody Wants This. Funny as that show is, I noted that it's constantly "the middle act" of a romantic comedy -- a series of misunderstandings that threaten the lead couple's ongoing relationship. Platonic tells you right in the title what the relationship of this lead couple is. Others around Sylvia and Will may question it at times, but they don't, and neither should the audience. There's no "will they, won't they." This is two "bros" that happen to be of the opposite sex, having each others' backs in one moment and putting the other up to terrible things the next.

Unsurprisingly, with the show all about those two, you're not going to like it at all if you don't like the banter between Rogen and Byrne. For me, it works. Each meets the other halfway from (what I perceive to be) their usual points on the comedy-drama continuum. There are other good performances on the show; they're just very much not the focus of the storytelling. A few that I particularly enjoyed: Luke Macfarlane as Sylvia's husband Charlie, who gets perhaps two or three episodes of the 10 to really be silly himself; Carla Gallo as Sylvia's friend Katie, who almost drunkenly lobs one-liners with razor precision; and Vinny Thomas as Omar, an employee at Will's brewery, who absolutely shines in what's really the smallest of parts.

Platonic tells a satisfyingly complete story in 10 episodes, and since Seth Rogen did go on to make another television show after it, you'd think that would be that. Think again! Later this year, the show is set to air a second season. I for one think that could be interesting without "stretching the taffy" -- it's easy enough to imagine that life-long friends will just keep getting into new hijinks. I give season one of Platonic a B+.

Enterprise Flashback: First Flight

One of the foundational stories about the real world space program was Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff. Enterprise took on a fictional version of that history with "First Flight."

Enterprise receives word from Earth that test pilot A.G. Robinson has died -- news that hits Archer and Trip especially hard, as they worked with him on the Warp 5 engine project years ago. When Archer and T'Pol leave in a shuttlepod to prove the existence of a massive dark matter nebula, Archer passes the time by recounting his time with Robinson in the early days of that test program.

This episode is trying very hard to be The Right Stuff, positioning the Warp 5 program as an analog for the real world Mercury space program. We get dangerous tests, the competition to be first, down time at the local astronaut bar... all the hallmarks.

In the way this gives us some backstory on Archer and Trip, it works very well. I've never been particularly impressed by Archer's captaining, but these flashbacks show us an even greener version to drive home his progress. He has to wrestle with his feelings about his own father, designer of the engine. He must learn to be a more rounded person. We watch his rival Robinson become a friend. And we see why Archer is so bonded to Trip in the present, as all three men go rogue to prove the engine works.

What doesn't quite work for me is this arbitrary competition about being first to travel Warp 2. In the episode, they reference Buzz Aldrin being the second man on the moon, and how people only remember the first thing Neil Armstrong said there. The implication is that breaking Warp 2 will be a milestone to be remembered forever. But that's plainly ridiculous, as the goal of the program is to quickly proceed to Warp 3, 4, and ultimately 5. They're all working as though they're going to be Chuck Yeager, breaking the sound barrier. In reality, they're all jockeying to be the first person to travel Mach 2. (Anybody? I had to Google. A. Scott Crossfield.) If the writers weren't caught up trying to emulate The Right Stuff, they might have realized they had a more appropriate competition already baked right into the story. The flashbacks end with Archer being tapped to command Starfleet's first high warp exploration vessel. That's the path to lasting fame.

Another problem with mimicking The Right Stuff this directly is that some of the antiquated 1960s values come along for the ride. The whole idea that some bartender is going to marry the first guy who can guess the future baby name she has picked out feels sexist and icky. The bar fight that breaks out feels ridiculously over the top -- way more testosterone-fueled than even these prequel-Trek characters ever act.

But there are bright spots in the writing too. The "wrapper" story of T'Pol and Archer's exploration doesn't have to actually do much, yet it cleverly maps a struggle to prove something in the present to a struggle to prove something in the past. It gives T'Pol a chance to demonstrate the empathy she's developed, as she encourages Archer to tell the tale. And it all rather cheekily revolves around a plan to bomb stuff for science.

Guest star Keith Carradine is kind of a "big get" for this episode, and does have some of the swagger you want to see in a trope-tastic test pilot character. He does seem maybe a little old for the role, though. (Though I suppose, alongside a "supposed to be a decade younger" Scott Bakula, it works.)

Other observations:

• This episode gives us another mention of "Mount McKinley." The last time that happened, I noted that the mountain was now called Denali. Since then, some would have us believe it's McKinley again.

• Once again, Star Trek falls flat portraying a bar on screen. This astronaut bar plays the worst tunes, sounding like elevator music in one scene and "on hold" music in the next.

• They solve their warp engine problems by changing their intermix ratio. Trek nerd alert, but the franchise has already established that there's only one workable matter-antimatter ratio -- 1:1. (Though I suppose if they hadn't learned that yet, no wonder they were blowing themselves up.)

• But speaking of franchise history... they've said that Mayweather grew up on a cargo freighter, and that it traveled at warp 2. This episode would have us believe that only around 10 years ago, warp 2 was broken for the first time. Then a whole fleet of cargo ships was rolled out... and then quickly outdated. And that that tiny sliver of time is what Mayweather is talking about when he thinks of "growing up."

• Great production design on the Warp 2 test ship. It looks plausibly like the "fighter jet" evolution of the ship Cochrane flew in First Contact.

I do ultimately appreciate how much this episode puts the focus on characters, and I like how it puts a sci-fi twist on a real world story. But I feel the metaphor is clunky, and that there isn't really a good handle on the future history being laid down. I give "First Flight" a B.

Friendly Advice

In my recent talk about season two of Andor, I complained about the way it was released on Disney+: multiple episodes dropping every week, forcing you to binge to stay ahead of spoilers. But earlier in the year, Disney+ released another series in exactly the same manner... and I was very glad not to have played their bingeing game.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man is an animated series about... well, it's right there in the title. With the "Spider-verse" movies and the MCU's current multiverse efforts setting ample precedent for alternate universes in general and alternate Spider-mans (Spider-men?) in particular, this series was free to uncouple from all the backstory baggage and tell a simpler story.

It tells that story using a fun animation style. (The Spider-verse set the precedent for changing that up too.) It's made to look like a comic book in motion, with characters drawn in the style of the earliest appearances of the character in the 1960s. Bringing that style into 3D is a tightrope act that could go wrong at any moment, but it really looks great here.

The 10 episodes of season one do a great job covering young Peter Parker's efforts at learning how to be a hero without getting bogged down too long in "yet another origin story" that no one really needs to see. But even more impressive to me is the writing of the characters around Peter. In particular, there's an entire subplot about high school football captain Lonnie Lincoln that really shouldn't work for how long it takes to connect to the larger narrative. It's an unexpectedly earnest look at peer pressure, gang violence, privilege, and more -- and kind of turns out to be one of the best aspects of the season.

The show has a great cast. If you're a fan of another Marvel animated show, What If...?, they've brought over Hudson Thames to continue voicing Spider-man here. Then they surround him with cartoon voice-over royalty (Kari Wahlgren as Aunt May), outstanding actors with distinct voices (Colman Domingo as Norman Osborn), actors who would normally be on camera adopting unrecognizable mannerisms (Hugh Dancy as Otto Octavius), and more. There are some fun guest stars too.

Because I didn't feel compelled to watch Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man as fast as they were releasing it, I enjoyed the fast-paced half-hour episodes much more. Overall, I'd give the first season a B+. Word is that season two is on the way next year, and a season three is in development, and I'll certainly be looking forward to it.

Enterprise Flashback: Regeneration

Star Trek: The Next Generation invented the Borg, and knew enough to use their menacing creation sparingly to keep them dangerous and special. Star Trek: Voyager resisted showing the Borg for a few seasons... before beginning to feature them so often that they no longer felt like such a threat. But at least with the Star Trek franchise moving on from Voyager to a prequel, that would be the last we'd see of the Borg, right?

Wrong! Behold, "Regeneration."

Researchers on Earth have discovered wreckage from an alien ship frozen in the Arctic on Earth, including its frozen, cybernetically-enhanced occupants. When Starfleet loses contact with the researchers and an alien ship departs for deep space, Enterprise is called to intercept. Soon, they come into conflict with an enemy that not only threatens the ship, but -- through a strange co-opting of biology -- the crew itself.

The original introduction of the Borg was a tantalizing moment in a mixed bag season of The Next Generation because, as Q summed up nicely: "you're out of your league." That was a feeling largely preserved in that Enterprise's subsequent encounters with the zombie-analog nemesis. But the more often you stop a supposedly "unstoppable" foe, the less it feels like an actual accomplishment -- which is exactly what happened throughout the run of Star Trek: Voyager.

Still, Enterprise tries with this episode to get back to the heart of what makes the Borg scary. It's not a prequel to the rest of Star Trek so much as a sequel to the movie First Contact. And while there are a lot of winks and nods to an audience who knows a lot more than the characters do about what they face, the episode manages not to feel like pure fan service.

If anything, I'd say it feels like a horror movie -- more so perhaps than any other Borg episode. Some of that is the "The Thing"-like vibes immediately invoked by the Arctic-bound (and Enterprise-less) first act. But we also get it in the many horror tropes lovingly deployed through the episode: characters with "the smart idea" ignored by the rest of their group, the "ghost story" energy of Archer recounting Zefram Cochrane's tales of aliens like this, the frightening whispers that Phlox hears when he is partially assimilated(!), and his insistence that his friends should kill him before letting him turn into a monster.

The episode is also good about portraying this as a real first contact with the Borg. When Archer is forced to kill a few Borg, there's a moment where he's understandably distraught at having taken lives; he hasn't yet learned that he's living in a zombie movie. It's only later, when he encounters an assimilated Arctic researcher aboard the Borg vessel, that he truly realizes the nature of what he's up against.

This is another triumph for Enterprise's production departments. Voyager already paved the way for achieving the movie budget Borg of First Contact on a television budget and schedule. Enterprise does that and more, adding the extended opening sequences in the Arctic. The snow storm was obviously done on a sound stage, but it still looks remarkably credible. (Perhaps the least realistic part is that the actors don't seem nearly cold enough in their physicality.) Phlox gets a wonderful compound makeup of his usual Denobulan features, gradually being necrotized by Borg implants. There are good FX shots of Enterprise control panels being Borgified, a fairly well done moment of ejecting some Borg into space, and a satisfying ship explosion in the final showdown.

But even if this episode does make the Borg feel scarier than Voyager usually managed, let's be clear: they're still very much "de-fanged" in this episode. They have to be for the Enterprise to ever defeat them. The trademark Borg personal shielding seems to take longer to kick in than usual. It seems easier to get up close for hand-to-hand combat (and hose pulling) than it has before. And of course, Phlox manages too easily to find a cure for assimilation (albeit a painful one).

Other observations:

• The fan service isn't just about Borg. Phlox mentions Bynars as another alien race that engages in cybernetic implantation.

• In dozens of appearances, the Borg have always "introduced" themselves with "we are the Borg." Surprise, surprise -- here they skip straight to "you will be assimilated," to avoid giving their name to the future history books.

• The Borg seem to move a lot more deliberately than usual in this episode. If the Borg are zombies, these are almost "fast zombies."

I feel like Enterprise did a better job with the Borg than Star Trek: Voyager usually did. Still, there's not as much drama in watching a struggle against a defanged opponent. I give "Regeneration" a B.

Enterprise Flashback: Cogenitor

Through its first few series, the Star Trek franchise didn't have the best track record with stories about gender equality or transgender issues. But it hit a home run talking about slavery. So you couldn't be quite sure what you were going to get when Enterprise took on a cocktail of all these issues with "Cogenitor."

While researching a dying hypergiant star, Enterprise encounters the Vissians, a three-gendered race who amiably wants to explore with them. While Archer and the alien captain take off in a small craft (and Reed flirts with the Vissian tactical officer), Trip spends time with a member of the Vissians' third gender, an unnamed cogenitor. When he learns that it has as much mental capacity as Vissian males and females, yet is treated like chattel passed around by would-be parents, he takes it upon himself to educate the cogenitor and bolster its self worth and ambition. A culture clash inevitably results.

Let me start briefly with some things I don't hold against this episode: the way it fumbles around in ignorance of gender identification, pronoun usage, and the like. This story isn't trying to say that this cogenitor character is trans, and the way Trip fumbles around with "it" versus "she" doesn't feel to me like it's ill-intentioned by the writers in any way. This is years and years before "they" became the pronoun of choice for most non-binary people... and even if that had been in common use at the time of this episode, I think the writers might still have opted for "it" because of the real point the episode was trying to make.

That point is a good old-fashioned Prime Directive conflict (albeit, this being a prequel, before Starfleet had a Prime Directive). Gender oppression bordering on slavery is on the one hand, and a principle of respecting other cultures on the other. Is oppression an aspect of culture that should be "respected?" Trip emphatically comes down on the side of "no" -- though his reaction is less outrage about the society writ large than it is recognizing the plight of one individual. (Though I think making the struggle individual rather than collective helps the storytelling.)

Weirdly, Archer comes down on the side of "yes," and hops on a high horse to yell at Trip about what he's done. But I think it doesn't work well in this episode to have Archer arguing for a non-interference ideal that doesn't formally exist yet, especially when he hasn't been modelling one in any way. (Though at least he acknowledges that he hasn't.)

But I think there are other reasons the episode falters a bit. One is that the conflict is quite muted. These Vissians are just too friendly, presenting no kind of threat despite their advanced technology. The captain is as charming as can be. (And it's rather ironic that he's played by Andreas Katsulas, an actor normally known for playing villains -- or at least, more "gray area" characters.) The couple whose family plans are disrupted by Trip's interventions seem only minimally upset, making their objections without any hint that they'll do anything extreme to get their way. To make the story work, Archer basically has to side with the Vissians (and against his own character as previously depicted), otherwise there isn't any consequence at all.

Another issue I have with the episode is how much time it wastes on things that aren't enhancing the central issue. It's wild how much time is spent with Archer and the Vissian captain tooling around in their "shuttle ball" doing science, when the only relevant story point to come from the entire subplot is that Vissians learn quickly (a necessary contrivance to speed along the cogenitor's education). It's also wild how much time is spent on the Reed subplot -- though far less surprising for a show like Enterprise. The writers are always trying to be sexy if they can, so naturally when thinking about a three-gender society, they're going to focus on how that means sex can come without any risk of unwanted pregnancy. Lest you think that Reed is going to get any kind of meaningful "cultural exchange" out of his experiences, the subplot is immediately abandoned once it's clear he and the Vissian tactical officer are going to sleep together; the episode never checks in on him again.

All this unsatisfying time spend with Archer and Reed is time that might have been used to further elevate the story with Trip and the cogenitor. T'Pol and Phlox get scenes to argue in favor of not judging an alien society. But how much more texture might we have gotten from more scenes, perhaps with Hoshi Sato to come at it from a linguist's perspective, or with Travis Mayweather -- who has probably encountered more aliens than anyone else on this ship from his time on a freighter? Or how about giving us a scene with cogenitor after it has learned that Archer won't grant it asylum, articulating the cruelty of being forced back into a life that now feels too small?

Other observations:

• There's some extreme and effective lighting used for this dying star shining in through the ship's windows.

• We actually get to see a tiny bit of "The Day the Earth Stood Still" in this episode. So that must be part of Paramount's catalog.

"Cogenitor" does still do a reasonable job of making its points about gender equality. And the tragic ending, with Trip's remorse about what he's done, lands well. Still, the time-consuming and fruitless subplots with Archer and Reed steal time that could have been used to heighten the morality play. And Archer's sudden conversion to a belief in non-interference is... rich. I give the episode a B.

A Mighty Roar

What if I told you that there's a currently running television show that stars not one, not two, but three Academy Award winning actors -- and you've likely never heard of it? That show is Lioness, streaming on Paramount+.

Lioness is an action-thriller about Joe McNamara, a senior CIA case officer. She manages an elite strike team running operations against terrorists, through the use of highly-skilled undercover agents known as "lionesses." Joe's work is demanding and constantly takes her away from her family, who face struggles of their own in her absence. Indeed, the show as a whole has a lot to say about women in roles that most people expect men to occupy.

This show is the brainchild of Taylor Sheridan, writer of gritty movies like Sicario and Hell or High Water, and co-creator of Yellowstone. Lioness presents like Sheridan's passion project, a synthesis of themes from all his other work, for which he writes every single episode. In many ways, the show hits like 24 did back in the early 2000s, but with an effort to portray things more dramatically -- honoring the personal sacrifices of its characters, portraying violence more realistically, and being somewhat more clear-eyed about abuses of power.

It does a much better job of mixing "home life" stories in with the action than 24 ever did. (No wandering child comes face to face with a wild cougar on Lioness.) The stories that follow Joe's husband Neal and their two daughters back at home are often as hard-hitting as anything happening through the sight of a gun -- particularly in the first of the show's two eight-episode seasons to date.

As I hinted at the top, a major draw here is the cast. Zoe Saldaña stars as Joe McNamara. The role demands everything of her, and she has it to give and more. She's a motivating leader, believable badass, and vulnerable mother each in turn. Joe's supervisor in the CIA is played by Nicole Kidman, who shades her stern character with fun nuance. When the U.S. Secretary of State becomes a recurring presence partway through the first season? He's played by Morgan Freeman, who channels his expected gravitas into a gruff, curse-laden, no-nonsense performance.

Those are just the Oscar winners. The show also features a number of other actors who have all starred on at least one previous hit show, like Dave Annable, Thad Luckinbill, LaMonica Garrett, Kirk Acevedo, and Michael Kelly. It has also discovered many actors without a huge resume who all fit perfectly into this world, including Laysla De Oliveira and Jill Wagner. Really, the show just has a great cast, top-to-bottom.

This is ultimately a very pro-military show, and sometimes gets a little too "boo-rah" for my tastes. Still, it doesn't feel varnished to the point of being propaganda. And there are enough other aspects at play in it to keep my attention. I found season 1 to be a bit stronger than season 2, but I'd say the show overall hits at least a B+. Word is at least one more season is yet to come, and I expect to be there for it when it arrives.

Final Grade

This weekend, the purportedly final movie in the Mission: Impossible franchise (and direct sequel to Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One) arrived in theaters. I sat through all nearly-three-hours of it, and it left me feeling decidedly mixed. If this is the best Mission: Impossible can muster these days, then it probably is best if this is the last one.

Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning is about the efforts of Ethan Hunt and his team to stop a powerful AI from taking control of the world's nuclear arsenal and bringing about the end of the world. It's also made as a deliberate, knowing swan song to the film franchise, full of callbacks to earlier films. (But don't worry if your memory of those is shaky; footage from the other films is awkwardly cut into this one to tell you anything you need to know.)

Memorial Day weekend traditionally marks the beginning of summer blockbuster season... and some would say that plot doesn't really matter that much in a summer blockbuster. It's just "grout" between the "tiles" of the big action sequences. If you (like me) don't subscribe to that way of thinking, there's definitely going to be a low ceiling on how much you can like The Final Reckoning. The plot of this film is pretty bad on more than one level.

First is how shockingly complex it is for how minimal a role it's supposed to play in the movie. Although the movie is nearly three hours long, there are essentially only two major, elaborate action sequences in it (and depending on how you'd count it -- that is, whether a simple shoot-out or fist fight pegs the needle for you -- one to four minor ones). That leaves a lot of time for talk, which is crammed-to-bursting with exposition about "the Entity," its plan to take over the world, and the way it can be stopped. For as much time as they spend talking about all this, you'd expect the Evil Plan to make more sense. Instead, a lot of that time goes to having characters awkwardly explain why the Entity isn't doing the more obvious thing that would be a whole lot simpler (and probably reduce the overall movie runtime to two hours).

More unforgivable is the way this part two completely abandons the thing that was most compelling about part one. The Mission: Impossible films have always had an undercurrent of distrust: never believe what you see, because at any moment, someone could tear off a realistic head mask and reveal themselves to be someone completely different. Dead Reckoning Part One upped the ante on that idea by presenting an enemy that could masquerade anywhere in cyberspace. Against the Entity, you could trust nothing connected to a digital source. The Final Reckoning makes passing mention of this threat on a couple of occasions, but never actually uses it in any meaningful way. Here, the most distinct "villain" in the history of the franchise abandons all subterfuge for a boring, brute force scheme.

But say you are one of the "who cares about the plot?" crowd. Are the action sequences you're really here for worthwhile? Sort of. There's no denying that the final, climactic stunt -- an extended aerial chase between biplanes -- is thrilling. If this is truly the last big stunt in the last Mission: Impossible movie franchise, then it's everything you want. And it effectively one-ups the last time Tom Cruise hung off an airplane for these movies. (The movie knows this, which is why it isn't afraid to show you an early flashback clip reminding you of that stunt.)

The big stunt in the middle of the movie is an extended underwater sequence inside a downed submarine. And unfortunately, it's far less satisfying in a number of ways. This seems more a triumph of clever set design and camera work -- important components of a good action sequence, to be sure, but not the "watch Tom Cruise do insane things" promise at the heart of this franchise's best stunts. Although the scope is massive, the impact is less impressive than the previous underwater stunt in the franchise -- also in Rogue Nation. (And again, the movie seems to know this; unless I missed it, it doesn't show you a clip from that sequence in this movie.) Most disappointing is the way Ethan Hunt escapes his situation at the end of the sequence, by doing something we're expressly told can't be done when the whole premise is set up. Despite "impossible" being in the name of these things, it feels like the missions are usually merely "implausible."

The resolution of a cliffhanger is rarely better than the cliffhanger itself. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning is not an exception to that rule. And since I gave Part One a B-, it feels about right to me to give this movie a C+.

Enterprise Flashback: The Breach

On paper, Phlox was one of Enterprise's goofier characters. Yet the series often found a way to put him at the heart of a real moral dilemma. It did so again with "The Breach."

When the new government of the planet Xantoras orders all off-worlders expelled, the Enterprise has a limited time to locate three Denobulan scientists and evacuate them. But they're deep inside an underground cave system, so Mayweather, Reed, and Trip must go caving themselves to locate them. Meanwhile, Enterprise comes to the aid of a transport ship, bringing an Antaran to Phlox's Sickbay. The Antarans have a dark history with Denobulans, and so this one refuses life-saving treatment from a sworn enemy.

Star Trek has been shooting scenes in fake caves since the very beginning -- and usually, not very convincingly. Here, the show takes on a task of next-level difficulty to present extended climbing sequences complete with rock slides and other dangers. And it's asking too much, really. CG of the time isn't up to what it's being asked to show here: the shots of a giant rock fall, and of a Denobulan "Spider-manning" up a cliff wall, look super goofy. The props and costumes are ridiculous; there's no reason you'd go caving not with a headlamp, but rather a lamp on a big stick above your shoulder. (And the "sample containers" are clearly just Tupperware from the local store.)

However, under the direction of Robert Duncan McNeill, the cave sequences actually come off far more credibly than you'd expect. He's smart enough to get lots of footage -- and the right kind of footage -- to be able to do a lot in the editing suite. Particularly effective is the moment where Travis breaks his leg; the right editing (and a horrible sound effect) really sell the moment.

But the real meat of the episode is the parable on racism, using the Denobulans and Antarans. The Next Generation did a memorable version of this type of story, in which Worf refuses to donate blood to help a Romulan. Still, this episode stands well apart from that one, thanks to the intriguing way it uses Phlox.

Things are interesting early on, when we learn that the Denobulan version of the Hippocratic oath is to foremost respect the will of the patient. But then we go deeper when we learn that among Phlox's many children, one has embraced all the racist propaganda about Antarans -- despite Phlox's own efforts to model better behavior. The two haven't even spoken in a decade. So this situation has very personal stakes for Phlox, who essentially needs to save this patient because he cannot save his own son. And the writing is smart enough not to articulate this so directly.

The writing is even smarter to not tie everything up in an easy bow by the end of the episode. The Antaran allows himself to be treated, and has evolved by the end of the episode. But it's not by leaps and bounds. He's willing to be on the same ship as Denobulans... and that's a realistic win, a gradual relaxing of generational racist dogma. The final letter we hear Phlox record for his son is the perfect way to end the story, reaching out to try again to get through to his wayward son.

And as a bonus... this entire episode is facilitated by events that feel very topical watching the episode today: it's all because a new, virulently xenophobic government has decided to expel foreigners from its borders. Sit with that a minute.

Other observations:

• The teaser for this episode is pretty bad, a real slide whistle of a scene about Phlox feeding his tribble, so he can in turn feed it to some other critter. Not only does it condition the audience to expect a lighter, comedic episode rather than the one we get, it depicts Phlox as being quite cavalier about life and death, in a way that actively undermines the story to come.

• We've established before that Mayweather has rock climbing experience, and it's nice to see the show remember that and make use of it here. And yet... how the hell did he gain rock climbing experience growing up on a cargo freighter making delivery runs between distant stars?

• Even I know rappelling down a cliff is a lot faster and easier than climbing up. So the idea that they're going to split their three-day time limit exactly in half before turning around to come back? It seems completely bonkers. (No wonder they return late.)

The Phlox story here is really quite good. And Robert Duncan McNeill clearly demonstrates that he knew how to go about directing this episode's demanding caving sequences. But with the extremely limited time and budget he was working with, there's only so much he could accomplish -- and those limitations did take me out of the episode at times. Overall, I give "The Breach" a B+.

A Familiar Ring

Over the years, I've blogged about the film concert series at the Colorado Symphony Orchestra -- performances where a movie plays as the orchestra performs its score in live synchronization. (If you live in a city with its own symphony orchestra, they surely do this too.) I haven't attended as many of these recently, as the last few seasons have featured mainly movies they've done before. But a few months back, when a special show was added to the current season, I knew I had to go -- they were playing Howard Shore's score for The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.

Every time I go to one of these concerts, the initial impact is always admiration for the musical talent on display. The orchestra generally rehearses for just a few days before these concerts, but that's all they need to all be playing not only in perfect coordination with each other, but in perfect sync with the film. Being a movie score fan, I know all the technical tools that exist to achieve this -- but it doesn't diminish the accomplishment to me in any way.

That initial response always gives way to admiration for the music on a new level, and this occasion was no exception. I would say The Fellowship of the Ring was a score I knew fairly well -- I could have hummed a few bars of each of the major themes that Howard Shore developed for the story. But I certainly didn't remember all the details. Watching the players take the stage one by one before the concert began was a fun build-up of anticipation. There's a dulcimer in this score? Yeah, I guess that makes sense. An accordion? Hmm... when was that? I guess we'll find out. The french horn players are sitting pretty far back this time -- what's that about? Oh, it's to accommodate the "twice as many as usual" number of oboe, bassoon, and clarinet players. (And those bassoon players in particular wound up working harder than I think I've ever seen at one of these film concerts.)

Another huge feature of this score, of course, is the 100-person chorus. Generally, when a score requires human voices in only a few moments, they'll make some substitution. (In fact, they did here for two moments -- about 10 collective seconds of music -- calling for a boys choir.) But for this film, we got the full chorus, which covered moments throughout the film from the ethereal warmth of the Elves to the terrifying threat of the Nazgûl. And two soloists were employed sparingly, but potently -- a woman and a young boy -- for specific moments that fans of the movie will likely remember well. Impressively, they just each had to sit quietly on stage for over an hour, and then -- without warmup -- just stand up and nail their moment in one shot. They deserved the enthusiastic applause they received from the audience when they did so.

Throughout the 3-hour concert, different moments gave me chills, or nearly moved me to tears -- even though I barely ever had my eyes on the screen or my mind on the story. (There were perhaps a collective 6 minutes of the entire film where the orchestra wasn't playing... and even those moments felt almost "musical" in the powerful choice for rare silence.) It all left me with a much greater appreciation for this score than I'd had before. It made me feel that as much credit as John Williams rightly gets for making the original Star Wars trilogy what it was, Howard Shore should be equally celebrated for contributing to the success of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Hobbiton wouldn't seem half as idyllic without the moving melody on the recorder that accompanies it. The One Ring would not be the powerful presence it is without the mournful strings signifying its influence. The wraiths would not be half as terrifying without the galloping runs of the woodwinds beneath the wailing choir. The Uruk-hai would not seem as disruptive to the natural order without the clever 5/4 melody of their theme. The deeds of the fellowship would not seem nearly as heroic without the powerful horn anthem. Whatever your favorite moment of the movie is, odds are it has a distinct musical accompaniment elevating the emotions you felt about it.

Maybe The Fellowship of the Ring in particular might not be the movie you'd choose for a concert experience like this. But I'd encourage you to look for whatever movie would be ideal for you, and seek out a performance like this. For music or movie lovers, it's an experience that can't be beat.

Cinematic Sins

For weeks now, I'd been hearing people sing the praises of the new movie Sinners. Director Ryan Coogler left the MCU behind (but brought his longtime collaborator Michael B. Jordan with him) to deliver a horror movie that wowed the critics and beat box office expectations.

Set in 1932, Sinners is the story of twin brothers Smoke and Stack, who return to Mississippi from mob work in Chicago. There they hope to set up a successful juke joint of their own. They reunite with the locals and recruit people to help, including their young cousin -- an unnaturally gifted guitarist they want to play at their club. But the brothers also have to contend with local racists looking to shut them down. And vampires.

I debated just putting that last part out there like that, because when you watch the movie, it's a slow reveal. The total run time is nearly two hours and 20 minutes, and fully an hour has elapsed before there's even a whiff of anything supernatural at play. Yet the "twist" has been widely circulated, that this is really a From Dusk Till Dawn style bait-and-switch movie where an entire story is set up only to be annihilated by the arrival of vampires.

It's too much of a slow burn, if you ask me. The movie, of course, knows where it's going. And so it never completely engages with the ideas raised in that opening hour. When a landowner (who might be a Klansman) figures prominently in the opening minutes, you assume he's going to be an antagonist throughout the story. And while the story does eventually circle back, Sinners doesn't seem to want to engage with racism as directly as, say, Get Out or Blink Twice.

But the movie does have a more interesting take on its vampires. That's where the metaphor resides in Sinners, contrasting the community of the segregated South with an unexpected version of a vampire community. (I think I'll skip any more detail and leave that twist unspoiled.) And once Sinners really becomes the horror movie it was meant to be all along, it's an over-the-top, violent bloodbath -- a slasher that hides no grisly details from its audience. It's perhaps one of the reasons that horror fans have embraced it. Another might be the unique (so far as I know) take on how you get vampires in the first place.

Still another is probably the cast, which is uniformly strong. Michael B. Jordan gets the spotlight, of course, in his twin roles -- in which he gives two very different performances. But there's also great work here from Miles Caton, Jack O'Connell, Wunmi Mosaku, Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld, and more. The characters are more interesting than just their utility as meat for a slaughter.

Once you get to the heart of the movie (because it's almost literally been ripped out to display beating in front of you), Sinners is a well-made slasher. But there's a reason slasher movies don't usually run longer than two hours. I was short on the patience this one demanded. I give Sinners a B-. If you're a horror fan wondering if this movie is worth the hype, you might want to check it out. If you're not a horror fan, wondering if the hype is worth you stepping out of your comfort zone? I'd skip it.

Enterprise Flashback: Horizon

On multiple occasions over the course of nearly two seasons of Enterprise reviews, I've complained about the series' disinterest in its half of its main characters. Usually, the problem is that storylines which could have been given to Mayweather, Reed, Sato, or Phlox are instead given to Archer, Trip, or T'Pol. With "Horizon," the problem is that they actually do devote an episode to one of the "lesser" characters -- and it's terrible.

When word arrives that Travis Mayweather's father has died, he takes leave to go visit his mother and brother on their cargo freighter Horizon. There he engages in sibling rivalry as his brother struggles in his new role as captain, and generally begins to question if you truly "can't go home again." But soon, all differences must be set aside as Horizon comes up against a group of pirates. Meanwhile, aboard Enterprise, T'Pol is encouraged to take part in movie night and fraternize with the crew.

Another complaint I've registered about Enterprise is that it can be too plot oriented, failing to develop its characters by tailoring aspects of its stories to them. "Horizon" is a wild swing of the pendulum, a story that's almost all character, where nothing happens that feels like a Star Trek plot until near the very end of the episode. (And even the confrontation with the pirates feels stiff.) Because the show just doesn't have many reps in for this sort of exercise, it staggers through with no idea how to tell this slice of life story well.

A whole lot of time is spend "telling, not showing." Travis reminisces with people all over the cargo freighter, each one telling us a story that hints at some adventure that would have made for a more compelling episode. We do get more "show" than "tell" in the B plot centered on T'Pol -- yet even this feels dull and inert. It's a long, slow burn about Trip trying to convince T'Pol in the value of horror movies.

Of course, his argument is limited by movies that can be taken from the old Paramount film archives. Ask a hundred horror movie aficionados to each name three great horror movies, and I'll wager not one is going to say the 1931 version of Frankenstein. It's always been humorous that in the Star Trek future, all music after classical composers, all literature after Arthur Conan Doyle -- all entertainment not in the public domain -- has seemingly ceased to exist. But there's something next level about visualizing that in the form of a movie that Enterprise can steal without paying a huge licensing fee.

The writing is even bad in the details, full of small imperfections that should have been smoothed out in a rewrite. The teaser gives nothing to actually "tease" you into watching the episode; you simply see Travis in his favorite upside-down spot when he's asked to report to the bridge. That's it. No hint of what's to come, just the nebulous idea that this will be a "Travis episode." After the credits, he learns that his father is sick, and makes plans to see him. But just a scene or two later, Dad has died off-screen -- with nothing gained narratively by the odd little fake-out. And later, even though it's really, really important for you to understand that the captain of the Horizon in Travis' brother, that fact is barely mentioned in one early scene, making the whole relationship feel strange until you realize later that you've probably missed something key.

Weirdly, Enterprise isn't even doing a good job here at the things it normally does well. I assume because they blew out the budget making "Judgment," there's no money left to spend here -- so the inside of the supposedly old cargo freighter Horizon is literally just the Enterprise with a few different decorations on the wall.

If you really try, you can find a couple of good moments in the episode. Travis learning that his father complimented him -- not to his face, but to Archer -- feels like a too-familiar restraint from tenderness between too many fathers and sons. The lesson Travis ultimately teaches his old shipmates, about not rolling over to a bully, is kind of basic -- though it feels apropos today. Phlox's take on the scientific plausibility of Frankenstein is fun. So is the Vulcan-like way T'Pol ultimately gets into watching it (including the way she "shushes" Phlox for talking during the movie).

Other observations:

• Archer has a weird moment of "making it all about him" when he tells Travis he almost served on a cargo ship. He at least has the good sense to realize now is not the time for that story.

• Travis and Malcolm have a laugh about an element of Star Trek: The Next Generation, that space travel would be better with families aboard the ship... but that this would require having a psychologist aboard.

• According to the internet, there's the deepest of deep cut Trek references in this episode. In the background of one shot aboard the Horizon, a book about Chicago gangs is visible on a shelf. This is supposed to reference the original series episode "A Piece of the Action," in which a ship named the Horizon was responsible for cultural contamination of an alien planet by leaving behind a book on Chicago mobs of the 1920s.

I give "Horizon" a D+, a mark I've bestowed so far on only one other Enterprise episode. Comparing the two poses a bit of a dilemma: is it worse to try something big and execute it badly ("Precious Cargo"), or just be boring ("Horizon")? It's a photo finish this time, to be sure. I certainly don't want to watch either episode ever again.

Teaming With Fun

As much as my husband and I enjoy playing board games, it's not generally something we turn to when it's just the two of us. So I don't generally pay much attention to whether a game is said to play well with two players. And I very rarely check out games meant for only two players. But every now and then, a two-player game is so celebrated in the gaming community that I feel almost obligated to check it out. Which is how I came to try Sky Team.

Two players take on the roles of pilot and co-pilot for a jumbo jet. An "instrumental panel" board between them shows various slots for dice, where specific numbers must be placed to control pitch and air speed, radio the tower to clear other planes, deploy flaps and brakes, and so forth. Your shared job is to land the plane safely within a limited number of rounds. Your method for doing this is to each roll four dice on every round, then alternate placing them in specific slots on the panel to get the plane ready in time.

Sky Team is a cooperative game, which will immediately make some wary gamers ask if it deals well with the "quarterbacking" problem of cooperative games -- does the system prevent one assertive player from stepping in to dictate decisions for the others? Sky Team already has a leg up on this because there is only one other player. Then it cleverly uses "hidden information" to solve the rest. Each player rolls their dice behind a screen, and only brings a die out when they place it on the instrument panel. Players are not allowed to discuss their rolls, not even by implication. And while this can make the game unfold in relative silence, it actually makes you work exactly in the way the title promises: as a team.

Certain slots on the instrument panel can be filled by one one player, the pilot or the co-pilot. Other slots are shared by both. Still other slots are paired: the pilot and co-pilot each must place one die every round, and the relationship of the two numbers together dictates what happens. When playing, you very quickly learn that success comes from leaving your partner more options. If you put a 6 in one of those "paired slots," where you need your total to be, say, 9 or better? You've given your partner a lot of information to work with. They don't have to worry about whether they should put the only 6 they rolled on that slot, and can use a 3 instead. If one of you needs to play a 1 to clear a plane from the landing zone before you move forward, and you don't play that 1 on your turn? It's a likely message to your partner that you don't have one, can they help?

If you master the game's system of implied communication too easily, don't worry, you have plenty more challenges in store. Each playthrough simulates a landing at a particular airport, each airport a mini-expansion of sorts that adds more mechanics to the game. Soon enough, you'll learn to deal with precise turns during your approach, additional planes that come into the landing zone, fuel management, and more. Then you can repeat landings on higher difficulty levels that leave less margin for error.

I've enjoyed Sky Team more than just about any other two-player-only game I can think of. Indeed, I've enjoyed it more than most cooperative board games I've played in recent memory. Sitting down to solve a problem with one partner (which, for many gamers like me, will be their partner) is just delightfully satisfying -- especially when the system almost entirely eliminates moments of coercion or recrimination that other cooperative games can have. Plus, it takes just 20 minutes or less to play a scenario, land or crash. It's easy to play several in a row, or squeeze in one in a narrow window of time, whichever is more suited to you.

I give Sky Team at least a B+. It might even be an A-, though I think I haven't played it enough yet to be sure. (Like I said... I don't often play two-player games; not even a good one like this.)