Enterprise Flashback: Vox Sola

Compared to modern television, where a TV series might have two or three years to produce maybe 10 episodes, it's staggering to think that 20+ years ago, Enterprise produced a staggering 26 episodes for its first season. That pace left very little time for pre-production planning, for anyone to be able to throw up a hand and say, "wait... is there a better way to do this?" Still, it's shocking that no one made that time for the eyebrow-raising "Vox Sola."

An alien life form gets aboard Enterprise, absorbing members of the crew into its own gelatinous, web-like mass. Yet there are signs that it may be possible to communicate with the life form, so it falls to Hoshi Sato to negotiate the release of her crewmates. But coming right on the heels of an embarrassing communications failure with a different alien race, she doubts that she's up to the challenge.

At the core of this episode is a great idea: a Star Trek alien that for once is not a human in makeup, something with a truly alien look and almost unknowable intentions. Almost. In classic Star Trek form, our heroes can make contact with it, and learn that it is an entity in need of help, not a menace to be eradicated. On paper, that's all great stuff.

But then there's how this creature looks. Maybe I have a filthy mind, but I look at it and can't see anything other than... how to put this? The fresh contents of a teenage boy's gym sock. The "money shot" of an adult film. All of these poor actors, including Scott Bakula and Connor Trinneer, spent many days of production on this episode trussed up in a harness, tied up in cling wrap, and hosed down to dripping with... some substance that looks like it should come with a content warning. Acting!

I try to imagine the alternate reality in which this creature doesn't look ridiculous, and I still think the episode is flawed. For one thing, we really need to find a new story for Hoshi Sato -- something other than self-doubt. For another thing -- it seems like the story could resolve without her! As the creature continues to absorb Enterprise crewmembers, we learn that they're developing a telepathic link and are able to read each other's thoughts, because they're literally becoming one with the alien. Ok, so... why can't they use that telepathy to communicate with the alien?

So yeah, the "A plot" of this episode seems laughably bad. But fortunately, there are other good moments sprinkled throughout. Taking Archer and Trip out of commission -- two of the show's three tacit stars -- makes room for secondary characters to each get strong moments. Phlox takes a strong stance against Reed when it comes to harming a life form for the sake of a tactical advantage. Mayweather is the only person available to take a "call" from returning aliens who demand an apology -- and he gives a really good one! Reed invents force field technology! (Though I have to say: just because force fields have tactical applications doesn't mean he should have engineering know-how to pull it off.)

Other observations:

• Actor Vaughn Armstrong is now Enterprise's go-to actor. Need a one-off alien? Armstrong's your guy. They know they can cover him in enough makeup that familiarity won't be an issue.

• Trip mentions playing 9-Ball with Archer at one point. With space at such a premium on this ship, I wonder where they keep the pool table?

• One of the poor ensigns ensnared by the creature is played by Renee E. Goldsberry. She was unknown at the time, but later would be part of the celebrated original cast of Hamilton on Broadway.

• When Archer and Trip watch a water polo match on TV, it's in the classic 4:3 aspect ratio. This even though Enterprise itself was made in 16:9 -- everyone knew at the time that 4:3 was going away. Come to think of it, the footage is all fuzzy too. So, like... are they watching footage of a water polo match from like the 1980s or something?

• Continuing the efforts to make this creature truly alien, its "speech" at the end of the episode is a screechy whale song. It conveys the otherness... but it'll blow out your sound system and your eardrums if you have the sound up too high.

"Vox Sola" may have originated from a good instinct about portraying aliens on Star Trek. It has a few very solid character moments too. But a recycled character story for Hoshi Sato and an unintentionally hilarious creature (I hope unintentionally) really brings the episode down. I give it a C.

The Bright Side of Life

It was right around last year at this time that I discovered the character of Philomena Cunk, by way of the mockumentary TV series Cunk on Earth. One year later, she's back with a movie-length follow-up, Cunk on Life.

Played to the hilt by Diane Morgan, Cunk is the result of a collaboration between Morgan and Charlie Brooker (the creator behind Dark Mirror, indulging his comedic side). Philomena Cunk is a dim-witted, self-serious interviewer looking for answers to the biggest questions imaginable. Here, as the title suggests, she's taking on nothing less than life itself. It's how she goes about this that makes it fun.

Every type of humor is "in bounds" for Cunk mockumentary. The most cliched Dad joke lives right alongside the most clever wordplay, and both right next to a sly gag dependent on how a British accent makes particular words sound. One moment, you're watching serious scientists attempt to give thoughtful answers to the most stupid questions. In the next, those on-the-spot moments are contrasted with elaborately planned re-enactments. It's an utter saturation of jokes. No matter what makes you laugh, Philomena Cunk will find it.

Though this is repeating something I said of Cunk on Earth, it bears repeating: the whole thing works thanks to Diane Morgan's portrayal. Her ability to deliver a deadpan joke without a trace of a smile has few equals. And her clear ability to think on her feet during a live interview brings even more humor to the edit suite. Once again, Morgan is brilliant as this character.

If anything, I would say that the jokes of Cunk on Life are even sharper and funnier than in the previous Cunk on Earth. But I'd also say that the shorter form of half-hour episodes is probably the better forum for the character. This new movie clocks in at under an hour and a half, yet by the last 15-or-so minutes, I admit I was starting to tire just a bit.

Yet I think I'd average it all out to about the same B+ I gave Cunk on Earth last year. And since we have swtiched from a "TV season" to what could be considered a "movie," I have to give thought to whether Cunk on Life deserves a spot on my Top 10 List. Since the bottom half of that list remains a bit soft as I continue to watch 2024 releases, I feel the answer is "yes." I'm sliding it into the #7 slot -- for now, at least, the best pure comedy from last year I've seen.

Enterprise Flashback: Detained

A run of Enterprise episodes with sci-fi stunt casting continues with "Detained."

Archer and Mayweather are captured by the Tandarans, an alien race at war with the Suliban. The two are housed in a Suliban detention camp while they wait for Enterprise to retrieve them... where they quickly learn that Tandaran claims about the Suliban are overbroad, and the conditions in which Suliban civilians are kept are truly immoral.

This episode is a direct allegory to American internment of Japanese citizens during World War II, and it wants you to know that; one of the real-world camps, Manzanar, is referenced by name in dialogue. It's history worth being direct about, and not as widely known as it should be. (And I think perhaps less still in 2002, when the episode was released.) In fact, at the time, this episode may well have been intended as a cautionary message about Islamophobia in the wake of the September 11th terrorist attacks: do not judge the many by the acts of a few.

Unfortunately, there are aspects of the episode that dilute the good message. One is how much the narrative centers on Captain Archer, a (checks notes) straight white guy. This is an episode about Archer learning that "not all Suliban" are part of a cabal, or have genetic enhancements. If you're going to be direct enough to mention the real-world historical analog at the heart of this story, I feel like you are obligated to include more of a minority perspective. Mayweather is right there on the planet with Archer, but really gets just one notable scene in the episode -- and it's a scene that clangs pretty hard, as he rails at the Suliban detainees, "I just don't understand this concept of racism!" (Alright, not in exactly those words, but close enough to them to be awkward.) Meanwhile, if you want to be direct with this episode, Hoshi Sato is right there in your main cast of characters, and could have wound up in the camp with Archer.

Another issue for me is that any message this episode might convey feels secondary to the loud stunt casting of Dean Stockwell as Grat, the head of the detention camp. While I'm sure plenty of viewers of Enterprise had never actually watched an episode of Quantum Leap, the vast majority had to have at least been aware of the series -- and the fact that this episode represented a reunion for Stockwell and Scott Bakula. Plus, extra fun: here on Star Trek, they're adversaries!

Don't get me wrong, I think all of that is fun. And I appreciate that they brought Stockwell in to play a meatier role. He gets to throw around all the autocratic weight of his character's position, playing at being nice while ultimately being evil. It's a good character, and he's good playing it. But his presence and what it represents winds up feeling like the point of this episode; this isn't the "Japanese internment episode," it's the "Quantum Leap reunion episode."

Even though Archer quickly finds his way to the moral high ground of this story, his decision making seems poor. He could avoid rocking the boat with Grat, be released, and then turn around and use Enterprise's full resources to go back and free the captives in the camp. I suppose we're meant to see this as noble, his refusal to give an inch in this situation -- but he's lucky the Enterprise crew found this planet on their own and showed up in time to lend a hand.

Other observations:

• When T'Pol suggests delaying the Tandarans to give time for a Vulcan lawyer to come, Trip says "They'd be better off getting the electric chair." In an episode very much about racism, it's a pretty ugly look for the character.

• There are a lot of background actors in Suliban makeup -- which seems costly and time-consuming. But I'm glad they made the effort. The episode benefits from seeing so many prisoners unjustly incarcerated.
  

• When Reed infiltrates the camp, disguised as a Suliban, Archer recognizes who he is immediately. How?
  

In case it seems like I'm overly down on this episode, let me make clear: I like the way it spotlights a real-world injustice. Dean Stockwell may be stunt casting, but he's great in this episode. So all told, despite some reservations, I give "Detained" a B.

A Challenging Read

For my generation, the explosion of the Space Shuttle Challenger was a defining event -- an "everybody remembers where they were" moment that looms large in memory to this day. For myself, always a fanboy for crewed space travel, it occupies an especially large mental space. So when I heard about a recent book on the tragedy by author Adam Higginbotham, I was curious to check it out.

Higginbotham's book is called Challenger: A True Story of Heroism and Disaster on the Edge of Space, and it is an expansive look at the explosion -- with a lengthy examination of events both preceding and following. While most people have at least heard of the "O-rings" that were ultimately found to be the culprit (and I, in my fascination, had previously read a good deal more than that), I nonetheless found the book to be a good deal more informative and revealing than that.

This book demonstrates just how avoidable this "accident" really was. It paints a crystal clear picture of the state of NASA and its contractors during the creation of the Space Shuttle, and the first five years of its operation (prior to the Challenger disaster): it's the story of a government agency much like any other less conspicuous agency, struggling with a lack funding and impossible mandates, fighting to achieve just to ensure its own survival.

It's also a broad cautionary tale about the dangers of believing in one's own hype. Though the book makes a point to remind readers of the deaths (and near-deaths) during the Apollo moon program, it also shows how those events were not as indelible as you might think in the minds of new bean counters who took charge of the space program in the interrim. (It also suggests that NASA ultimately did not learn enough long-lasting lessons here, with part of the final chapter turning to the breakup of the Space Shuttle Columbia, and pointing out the parallels precipitating that tragedy.)

A major strength of Higginbotham's writing is that the focus is equally on the events themselves and on the people at the center of the story. Without feeling like he's angling for a Hollywood big screen adaptation, he unfolds the story much like a movie, making central characters of the engineers who foresaw tragedy, the executives who ignored the warnings... and, of course, each of the seven astronauts who was killed in the disaster. Part of what made Challenger such a massive story in the American consciousness was the death of teacher Christa McAuliffe. But she was one of seven astronauts killed in the disaster, and this book gives equal time and background to all of them -- and to the people who might have saved their lives.

I will say the book is a touch overwritten at times. Higginbotham does use more than the usual number of $5 words, which sometimes undermines his presumed thesis of making these events more simple and accessible to his audience. This is probably a book best consumed on an e-reader, where you can tap for a quick dictionary definition of the rare and unfamiliar words that pop up a few times every chapter. (But hey -- you're learning more than history!)

Aside from those occasional bumps in the road, though, I found this book to be engrossing and illuminating. It will tell you things you didn't know. More importantly, it will humanize the story -- something I think is welcome all these years later, as Challenger has passed into American mythology. I give Challenger: A True Story of Heroism and Disaster on the Edge of Space a B+.

Cross Section

Star Trek: Section 31 has been a long time in the making. It was originally conceived as a Discovery spin-off series for Michelle Yeoh. Nearly five years of delays -- for Covid, Yeoh's other film commitments (and her Oscar win), and two overlapping Hollywood strikes -- ultimately saw it reconstituted as the first of a prospective series of direct-to-streaming movies. Now that it has arrived, the reviews are savage: a parade of critics finding their own unique ways of proclaiming it bad, with a few even calling it the worst Star Trek ever.

This all helped me set expectations when I sat down to watch the movie this past weekend. That was probably a very valuable thing in helping me derive some enjoyment from it. I'm certainly not here to say that Section 31 is "good." It's not. But worst Star Trek ever? Come on, people. I'm old enough to remember Nemesis, a Star Trek movie so bad that it basically caused the entire Star Trek franchise to vanish for nearly a decade. Section 31 at least tries to be a version of a typical blockbuster action movie, rather than a version of prior, better Star Trek movies stitched together like a Frankenstein's monster.

Section 31 picks up the story of Emperor Philippa Georgiou, transported from the Mirror Universe (and most recently, the far future), into mainstream Star Trek. She's set up a minor fiefdom/bar in a distant corner of the galaxy, but is now called into action by a black ops division of Starfleet. Soon, she and the eclectic team she's joined are the only ones who might stop the destruction of the Alpha Quadrant.

This movie is kinda dopey much of the time, but also kinda entertaining some of the time. The heist vibes of the opening act work pretty well (though as I've often noted, I'm a sucker for a heist movie). A madcap fist fight centered on phasing in and out of normal space is fun, and showcases Michelle Yeoh's martial arts skills. Yet not all the action and twists work; a later brawl set on... I want to say hoversleds?... is pretty visually incoherent. And a misdirect to make the audience think that one particular character is a "mole" is unconvincing even if you aren't enough of a Trek fan to know that character's specific franchise destiny.

Georgiou has a rogue's gallery of characters around her, conceived as the cast of a television series. Sweating that down to a single 90-minute movie definitely hurts most of them. One character's intriguing "mecha dysmorphia" is ultimately little more than a punchline. A new microscopic life form poses interesting ramifications for storytelling, but this story has little time to explore them. Other characters with unique threads connecting back to Star Trek lore are left without the time to pull on those threads. All these characters would have gotten their own "all about me" episode in the first season of a television series, but are just grist for the action mill in this format.

Mostly, I found that Section 31 made me better appreciate the best parts of Star Trek: Discovery. Many fans (and "fans") point to the bad excesses of Discovery, which I agree wore more thin with each passing season -- the constant galactic stakes, the out-of-nowhere action sequences, the way characters just came right out to say whatever was on their mind (regardless of whether it was the right time or place). Section 31 has all of these elements.

What it's missing are deep relationships like the ones between Stamets and Culber, or Burnham and Tilly. It's missing the humanist core of Discovery's storytelling, that found wonder in alien races, saw characters change profoundly and permanently, and demonstrated how to keep hope alive in bleak times. Above all, it's missing strong performances from the likes of Jason Isaacs, Anson Mount, or powerhouse (and, I'm increasingly convinced, all-time Star Trek MVP) Sonequa Martin-Green.

Still, is Section 31 really any worse than, say, Transformers One? Or Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire? Or Jack Reacher? Or any of a half-dozen other subpar action movies I've watched over the last several months and found too forgettable to blog about? Not really. Indeed, if I had to fire one up this moment to watch a second time, right now? I'd pick Section 31, no contest.

But yeah, it's a ultimately a "thumbs down." I'd give Star Trek: Section 31 a C-. Maybe it truly is the worst Star Trek that more casual Trek viewers have ever seen. But there is so much worse out there for us completionists.

Enterprise Flashback: Oasis

Hot on the heels of Voyager cast member Ethan Phillips guest starring on Enterprise, Deep Space Nine cast member Rene Auberjonois appears for the next episode, "Oasis."

Enterprise investigates a crashed ship, where they hope to salvage valuable resources. But the wreck is not abandoned as it first appears. While the people living aboard this derelict ship do seem friendly, it becomes clear they are hiding a secret from Archer and his crew -- even as one in particular is growing close to Trip Tucker.

"Oasis" is an episode that seems to change its mind about what it is several times along the way. It begins almost as a haunted house story. An alien tells a tale of a creepy abandoned ship. When our heroes search the wreck, it's all moody lighting, sudden glimpses of reflections that aren't there when you turn around... the beginnings of a fun little sci-fi mystery.

Then, abruptly, the episode becomes a pretty standard "help aliens who need it" story. They're hiding something, yes, but that's par for the course in these kind of episodes. It may even be that the production realized how rote this kind of Star Trek episode is, and that's why they reached out to Rene Auberjonois for a bit of stunt casting that might stir fan interest.

It's a bit of a weird role for Auberjonois to take. He's not the leader of these aliens; for the first several scenes, he's almost lost in a crowd, challenging you to go "wait a minute, that's not Odo, is it?" It finally becomes clear why you'd cast Auberjonois when the alien secret is revealed -- (um, old spoiler incoming) that only he and his daughter are actual living people. The rest of the ship's crew are holograms he conjured up. Auberjonois gives a moving monologue about how much his character cares for his daughter, and how he did all this for her, putting all the spin on it he can muster.  But that emotion is undermined somewhat for any Star Trek fan who knows Deep Space Nine well, because this entire story line is a retread of the episode "Shadowplay." That was even an Odo episode -- we've just had Rene Auberjonois switch parts this time around!

At some point along the way, "Oasis" decides it wants to be a romance episode as well. At least, it toys with the notion, as Trip seems to take an interest in the alien daughter (and T'Pol archly reminds him what could happen). The subplot plays as a mostly chaste and earnest desire to help... right up until the final moment, spoiled by an unnecessary kiss goodbye.

Still, despite the episode being both scattershot and familiar, it isn't exactly "bad." Perhaps having Auberjonois around made all the actors up their game, because the performances throughout are strong. I think part of the reason I so disliked the final kiss is because I was getting plenty of other, more nuanced subtext from Annie Wersching, who plays Liana. (This was decades before she'd return to Star Trek as the Borg Queen in season 2 of Star Trek: Picard.) Even Tom Bergeron is good; yes, that's the host of Dancing With the Stars and other game shows in a makeup-covered appearance as the alien captain at the start of this episode.

Other observations:

• When Rene Auberjonois' character says "I’ve made all the friends I need," it's such a wonderfully on-the-nose admission, if you know the episode's big twist.

• There's a fun wink at Star Trek: Voyager when Trip scoffs at the notion of being diagnosed by a holographic doctor.

The elements of "Oasis" feel jumbled to me. I think the whole of them assemble into something that's about a B-. Or maybe I'm just thrilled to get Rene Auberjonois in one more episode of Star Trek.

Letter Grade

The Oscar nominations were announced this morning... and I'm here to talk about a movie that did not make the cut. It might be because it wasn't even technically eligible. This is one of those movies where the official year in which it was released is a little murky.

Wicked Little Letters tells the story of the small town of Littlehampton in 1920. Edith Swan, a spinster woman living with her aging parents, becomes the target of a series of profanity-laced hate mail. Her neighbor Rose Gooding, a single Irish mother with a rude mouth, is the prime suspect, and soon the whole town is embroiled in the affair. But police officer Gladys Moss thinks Rose is innocent... yet is hard-pressed to make the case to her stalwartly chauvinist superiors.

From the opening seconds, Wicked Little Letters speaks volumes about the tone of what you're about to get, by way of an on-screen declaration: "more of this is true than you would think." This movie is going to take liberties with cold, hard truth for the sake of entertainment. It's going to be cheeky in doing so, deploying dry wit in the way it tells its story. But underneath any mirth are some sad-but-true facts.

OK, maybe a fair amount of that is only clear in retrospect. In any case, I found Wicked Little Letters to be quite entertaining, and quite clear in its feminist messages. The script plays up the growing Suffragette movement that's the backdrop for the tale, as it presents three clear stories about three distinct women being wronged by society in distinct-but-similar ways.

Rose Gooding is a woman accused simply for not fitting broad expectations of how a woman should behave. Edith Swan is a woman trapped by her age and unmarried status, desperate to break constraints she perhaps can't even articulate. And Gladys Moss is in a direct clash with a patriarchy that's objectively stupider than she is. Each of the three stories is a good one, and the movie skillfully balances all three (while not too subtly suggesting that things haven't progressed nearly as far as you'd hope in 100 years).

All three characters are portrayed wonderfully by excellent actors. Olivia Colman is the heavy hitter most people would recognize. (And if you know her work, she's the one you'd expect to be great here.) Her character is perhaps the most inscrutable, and certainly the one who develops latest in the film; in Colman's capable hands, she still feels like a three-dimensional person even before then. Jessie Buckley plays Rose Gooding, perfectly balancing the two most key aspects of the character: she's crass and loud, but she's a genuine, caring person under the brash exterior. Anjana Vasan plays Gladys Moss, and does excellent non-verbal acting throughout. Her character rarely gets to say what's on her mind, and isn't even permitted to roll her eyes as hard as she should, but you always have a strong sense of what's going through her mind in every scene.

While this movie has serious subtext and serious performances, it's actually very light to watch. A century remove helps everything play for comedy -- from the ridiculous contents of the letters, to the outsized reaction from the people of Littlehampton, to the galling sexism on display everywhere. This movie doesn't bare its teeth, but they are sharp all the same.

But which of my Top 10 Movie lists is it eligible for? Technically, it first screened at a film festival in 2023, and so you'll find many sources identify it as a 2023 movie. Still, as far as I can tell, that single festival was the only screening that year, and only as a result of that did it find wider distribution. Only in 2024 came its wider release. (In the U.S., that was on Netflix.) So I'm calling it a 2024 movie, and just slotting in in near the end of my Top 10.

I give Wicked Little Letters a B+. It's a fun watch with more serious things to say.

Apple for the Teacher?

The 8-episode first (and possibly only?) season of the TV series English Teacher was released months ago in October... which was about the time I actually watched it. I figured that the moment to blog anything about the show had passed. But recently, the series has picked up nominations for several awards, and so is tiptoeing back into the discourse. Now's my moment!

English Teacher is the story of high school teacher Evan Marquez (I'll bet you can guess his subject). The series mines laughs from how the professional and personal aspects of his life mix (and sometimes don't) as a gay man living in Texas and teaching kids. There are also fun jokes about "these kids today," bureaucracy, advocacy, and more.

The show is the brainchild of comedian Brian Jordan Alvarez, who created the show for himself to star in, writes most of the episodes, and even directed a couple. Sometimes, when one person stands this much at the center of a piece of entertainment, you get a strange vanity project. (And there's an occasional hint of that here. For example: Alvarez really wants you to know he works out.) But also, a project like this can be so personal that you can't help but come away with it with a unique perspective you may not have thought about before. English Teacher is definitely that. For a show that's fundamentally a comedy (with jokes that do make you laugh), it's notable just how much the show has to say -- both directly in dialogue, and by inference.

If you're part of an older generation, you've probably thought about how different school would be for younger generations: a world where any otherwise fleeting social embarrassment might be preserved by cell phone forever. Have you given as much thought to the teachers working in that environment, whose worst moments might also become internet fodder? English Teacher does.

It reflects a lot on what it means to be an out gay man teaching teenagers, including LGBT+ youths who might (or might not) be looking for a role model of sorts. To what extent should Evan Marquez be performative for the sake of helping kids... and how much is he being someone he's not, just because it feels expected? And if some bigoted parent or school district regulation is dictating to him just what he should be or do -- how much is he actually offended, and how much should he be obligated to fight the principle of the thing?

I think elements like this make English Teacher more than just another sitcom. They also really make the case for why representation matters; these topics can't help but come up, with this character being who it is. But also, the show isn't always about these things. There's plenty of sitcom hijinks of characters being their own worst enemies. And Brian Jordan Alvarez has surrounded him with a solid cast to play those characters. Two fellow teachers are both fun foils, Stephanie Koenig as Gwen and Sean Patton as Markie. And Enrico Colantoni plays the much put-upon school principle, bringing the driest of wit to the proceedings.

I have assumed that not hearing about a season two of English Teacher, this many months later, is not a good sign. And yet, there's been no cancellation announcement either, and perhaps the recent award nominations might move the needle? If it's only ever these 8 episodes, I still say English Teacher is worth a shot. I give it a B+.

Enterprise Flashback: Acquisition

The Ferengi were a new alien race introduced with Star Trek: The Next Generation. Before they became the greedy capitalist analog fans know now, they were so mysterious at first that Picard mentions them eating their adversaries. (Maybe he was just having a laugh?) We were told for certain, though, that Starfleet never previously had a direct encounter with the Ferengi. That made for some convoluted hoops to jump through for prequel series Enterprise in the episode "Acquisition."

Trip Tucker emerges from the decon chamber to find everyone aboard Enterprise unconscious. A group of aliens is raiding the ship, and only he can stop them. And he must do it in his underwear.

The first half of this episode is a straight-up Die Hard homage. But this being Enterprise -- which never misses an opportunity to be salacious -- it one-ups that movie's famous "he's saving the day barefoot" by having Trip skulk around in his underwear. (Enterprise serves eye candy for everyone, I guess.)

As I mentioned, the episode has to cover for the fact that Ferengi were unknown prior to The Next Generation. It does this by never identifying these greedy adversaries by name... and makes them even more alien by playing the entire first act in a sort of pantomime: there's very little dialogue, and what little there is is in the Ferengi language. (It gives composer Velton Ray Bunch an unusual amount of space in which to contribute his musical score.)

To play these Ferengi, the Enterprise production turns to a reliable group of mostly veteran Star Trek actors, including Jeffrey Combs, Ethan Phillips (who have both played Ferengi before), and Clint Howard. Together with Trek newcomer Matt Malloy, they find the comedy in this obviously lighter episode. They steal everything that's not bolted down, deliver many jokes about ear size (including about T'Pol and Porthos!), get led into slapstick hijinks by Trip and later T'Pol, get pitted against each other by Archer... and generally make a fun time of this installment.

But there are a few shortcomings to the episode. Only the "Big Three" of Archer, Trip, and T'Pol really get anything to do here; everyone else's job is to lie unconscious for the episode (if they appear at all). T'Pol seems uncharacteristically quick with emotional improvisation when she embodies perhaps the original "Vulcan love slave" of Ferengi lore. Archer, for his part, seems equally slow on the uptake, continuing to push "gold" as a thing the Ferengi should want, even after hearing them mention "latinum" multiple times. And the ending makes no sense. Archer lets the Ferengi go for no reason other than maintaining Star Trek continuity; there's no in-universe explanation for why Our Heroes shouldn't apprehend all these Ferengi once they gain the upper hand.

Other observations:

• There are fun Ferengi details for the fans. It's said there are 173 Rules of Acquisition, far short of the number that would exist by the time of Deep Space Nine. (When you can keep selling revised copies, why not keep adding?) And the strange "whip" weapon of the Ferengi's original appearance makes a return. There's also a mention of the Menk, the subservient alien race said to have encountered the Ferengi a few episodes back.

• For any dog lover out there, Porthos spends far too much time trapped in a box.

This episode is all in good fun, and does a fair enough job at that. But the ending is nonsense, and I don't love the large step this episode takes toward an original series model for Star Trek: you have three "stars," and all the other characters are decidedly secondary. Still, overall, I give "Acquisition" a B.

Keeping My Expectations... Non-Existent

On a mere handful of occasions in my life, I've watched a movie with little or no information on what it was I was about to see. They've been among the more memorable movie experiences I've ever had. And now I can add to that number Emilia Pérez.

Here's the full extent of the knowledge I had going into Emilia Pérez. It was a near-certain Oscar Best Picture nominee (and had recently won a Golden Globe), and being available on Netflix, was easy to cross off my list. It was a foreign film... partly in Spanish? It starred Zoe Saldaña, an actor I've long appreciated -- and yet have been coming to believe I've still underrated. (I've been watching the TV series Lioness, a topic I'll get to in the future when I get caught up.) Those few facts shed absolutely no light on what I was really in for.

If you are similarly under-informed, yet want the same bonkers exposure to this movie that I had, I'll give you the opportunity to jump out on this post after this paragraph. Spoiling my ending (but nothing else about the movie), I'll tell you I give it a B, and say that you really have to see it to believe it. Looking for more? Read on...

Rita Mora Castro, a talented but underappreciated lawyer, is contacted by a mysterious new client... who turns out to be a cartel kingpin. But the job Manitas Del Monte has is unexpected: locate a doctor to perform a gender-affirming surgery, so she might start a new and more authentic life. But can a dangerous criminal ever really leave that life behind?

That's just the first act of this two-hour-plus movie.

Oh... and it's a musical.

I've seen my share of musicals, so I'm of course familiar with the idea that not all of them are about light, sugary topics. But on a movie screen in particular, I'm hard-pressed to think of another musical about such a dark topic, so devoid of any comic relief, as Emilia Pérez. That's not to knock it, but to make clear that despite engaging songs, massive choreography, and bright colors, this is a heavy watch.

It is a rewarding one. The performances are truly excellent. Zoe Saldaña is great, as I expected. She gets the first musical number of the film -- the challenge of on-boarding you into what the world of this movie is going to be -- and welcomes you into that world with deft skill. Much later on, her song "El mal" is a fantastic screed against corruption, growling and venomous, really working the sounds of the language as much as the melody.

Saldaña is not alone in giving a strong performance. Karla Sofía Gascón plays Emilia Pérez, doing the best job possible in making a deplorable character sympathetic. (More on that in the moment.) Selena Gomez plays Del Monte's "widow" with deep emotion; just when you start to wonder "did they actually cast her not to sing?," she gets a big vocal showcase of a number to pull you into her character's story line.

But, I had several big impediments to becoming fully engaged with the movie. Most of them are surely "on me," but hang-ups all the same. Foremost, I often struggle to get into stories centered on criminal characters. There have been some rare exceptions (mostly in television, where the episode format allows a slide into evil -- Breaking Bad -- or the chance to flesh out more noble characters -- Dexter). Emilia Pérez never made me truly care about its protagonist; pre- or post-surgery, she's still a violent and dangerous villain solely interested in changing her life, not for any greater good.

Second, there was always the thought in the back of my mind that this movie could be read to reinforce negative stereotypes about the mental instability and/or criminal nature of transgender people. Sure enough, a quick Google of the online discourse reveals that despite critical adoration from many quarters, the LGBT+ community is mostly denouncing this movie as yet another hatchet job.

Third is the challenge of watching a musical in a language you don't speak. This is the most "on me" issue of them all, but it affected my viewing nonetheless. I felt the struggle sometimes as my eyes darted back and forth between trying to read the subtitles and trying to keep up with the dazzling on-screen choreography. Emilia Pérez is too much to take in at one time -- which can certainly be seen as a plus for many movies, but in light of my previous two concerns, feels like less of one here.

Rolled all together? Like I spoiled earlier, I would give the movie a B. I love how different it is, and what wild swings it takes at telling an uncommon story. I love the performances. But I have enough reservations about it that it isn't making my top 10 list for the year, and it likely won't be the movie I'm rooting for in the Oscar race.

Enterprise Flashback: Rogue Planet

Star Trek is known for putting its own science fiction on enduring stereotypes of storytelling. But rarely is it so literal as when Enterprise took on the (gendered) stereotype of the "damsel in distress," with the episode "Rogue Planet."

Enterprise comes upon an unusual planet of perpetual night, drifting between star systems. They also meet the aliens who journey there for a ritual hunt. But there seems to be more to the planet than any of them knows, when Archer is certain he spies an elusive woman in a nightgown that no one else can see.

Let's start with the "good" here. The titular rogue planet of this episode is a cool concept. While the science of it is probably complete bullshit, it's cloaked in just enough fiction to work for the story. It also leads to a completely new visual environment, and after decades of Star Trek, there simply aren't many of those left. The effects of the planet in space look cool, and the typical "garden center" planet set takes on an entirely new look.

Having watched as much science fiction as I have, I also got a tiny thrill spotting "that guy" actor Keith Szarabajka in this episode. You may not know him by his face, but may well recognize his distinct, raspy voice -- which has brought gravitas in everything from Angel to Supernatural to Star Wars: Rebels, to name only a few. (If you've played Skyrim, you definitely know his voice.)

That's about all I can slot under "good." The rest of this episode feels like a rejected script from the original series, with a hasty "find/replace" performed on the character names. Archer gets his most Kirk-like story to date, finding a literal blonde in a blue nightgown on an alien planet. Sure, the idea is that a partly telepathic life form, appealing to Archer for help, has chosen to appear in a way he'll be more receptive to. But how about appearing to Archer as a member of his own crew in need of help? Or as his father? Does it have to be a woman in a nightgown? T'Pol calls out that he'd be less likely to pursue a scantily-clad man, but I don't think hanging a lantern on the issue helps anything.

Other characters don't come off looking much better. When Reed is learning tactics from the alien hunters, he's impressed that their night vision goggles can detect infrared. Can Starfleet ones not? Isn't that literally what night vision goggles are made to see? And as for those aliens -- they totally know, the entire time, that the prey they hunt is capable of causing visual hallucinations. Yet none of them think to mention this when Archer talks about the incongruous woman he thinks he's seen?

Other observations:

• At the start of this episode, Trip is trying to take a holographic photo of Archer in the captain's chair. The camera he uses probably seemed futuristic at the time the episode was made, but it seems quite bulky today.

• When the landing party encounters a steam vent at one point, Archer puts his hand on a rock right next to it. He ought to be horribly burned.

The wonder of this episode's compelling setting is seriously undermined by the story the writers choose to tell in it. I give "Rogue Planet" a C-. It's easily Enterprise's worst episode to this point.

Make No Bones About It

This week, the finale of the new Star Wars: Skeleton Crew dropped on Disney+. From the widely-circulated industry stories about the low viewership of the series, that's likely to be its only season. Once the show got rolling, I did enjoy it -- and if what I'm about to write winds up being a "eulogy" in the grand scheme of things, so be it.

Skeleton Crew is the story of four kids growing up on an isolated planet, who discover a spaceship and accidentally wind up lost in space. As they struggle to find their way back home, they fall in with an eccentric droid and a mysterious man who may be a Jedi... but who is most certainly hiding things from them.

Through all its highs and lows, I really love the idea of Skeleton Crew. Like Star Trek, Star Wars is in a franchise with multiple running television series, and each one needs its own distinct niche to earn its keep. Skeleton Crew is the type of Star Wars show that really should exist in some form: a show that's aimed at the young audience that made the franchise a cultural phenomenon in the first place.

There have been plenty of kids in Star Wars over the years, from Anakin Skywalker in The Phantom Menace to "baby Yoda." But in Skeleton Crew, kids are the stars of the story... on their own adventure that feels like something real-life 80s kids dreamed up with their action figures. This is Star Wars going back to its absolutely foundational roots, not just in who the story is for, but what the story is: a kid (or here, kids) from nowhere whisked away into a grand space adventure.

Much of the early commentary on Skeleton Crew (not always intended as "criticism") likened the show to the movie The Goonies. So while I'm not adding much to the conversation to point that out, I feel like it needs saying just how much the show is like the Goonies. As you get to know the characters in the opening episodes, you can easily map each one of them to a specific Goonie. When a mid-season episode sees them venturing into a literal booby-trapped cave in search of treasure, it's impossible for anyone who has seen The Goonies not to think of One-Eyed Willy.

Where Skeleton Crew most differs, and is much better for it, is the inclusion of Jude Law. Going back to the idea of 80s kids dreaming up their own adventure, Law plays a character who feels part Luke Skywalker, part Han Solo. And his performance bobs and weaves between charming charisma and unsettling darkness. Just how dark will he go is a question that hangs over each episode.

But Law appears only briefly in the first two episodes. His full arrival in the story doesn't really happen until episode 3. And until then? Sorry to say it, but Skeleton Crew is hard -- almost painful -- to watch. Our four young heroes have a heroes' journey ahead of them, meaning they have much to learn, and start out in an incredibly naive place. One in particular, Wim, seems to be the main character at this point, and he's insufferable: whiny, impulsive, and constantly causing trouble. (In a later episode, when a character actually calls Wim "the worst," I became the "Leonardo DiCaprio pointing at his TV" meme.)

Yes, I acknowledge, Wim is being a kid, and doing it in the Star Wars show for kids. Wim is not "for me." But he's so not for me that I almost didn't make it past episode 2. Yet two episodes was how Disney+ launched this show, meaning that quite a few viewers got only this impression of the show, and promptly tuned out. (Part of what I alluded to earlier about its poor ratings performance.)

I'm here to say: it's really worth getting over that hump. Once Jude Law is fully on the scene, each episode becomes a playful adventure with just the right touch of menace. The four kids do begin the journey of growth, and most of them become quite likeable. Overall, Skeleton Crew becomes fun, if you've given it the chance. (And quick shout-out to composer Mick Giacchino, whose great score really contributes to that fun. Sure, he probably just got the job in a "nepo baby" way, being son of Rogue One composer Michael Giacchino. But Mick really has one foot in each of the two worlds of this story -- sweeping John Williams-style grandeur, and jaunty pirate-inflected shanties.)

One other thing I appreciated about Skeleton Crew: they really "leave it all on the field." Without giving too much spoilery detail, the concluding episode 8 brings irrevocable change to the characters and their corner of the Star Wars universe. It's hard to say what a season 2 of this show would even look like, other than "completely different." But if it works out that the show's poor performance means this is all there will ever be, narratively that works out fine -- we got a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end.

Overall, I think I'd give Star Wars: Skeleton Crew a B. Mind you, if I ever actually sat down to watch it again and had to endure those first two episodes, I might decide I'm being too generous. But after finding its "sea legs," the series is worth the time.

A Thematically Appropriate In-Flight Movie

On the return flight from my trip last month to Banff, I opted for an in-flight movie. Steering clear of any action or prestige movie -- likely to suffer for presentation on an airplane seat back -- I opted for a documentary, Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story. This is ordinarily the part of a review where I might insert a quick synopsis of the movie I'm here to talk about. But in this case, the title tells you exactly what you're getting: a look at the life of many fans' favorite ever Superman actor, Christopher Reeve.

Where many biography movies would proceed chronologically, or perhaps open with the subject's greatest triumph, this film leads immediately with the horse accident that left Reeve paralyzed. It's an unusual choice, but one that's possible for a filmmaker whose subject is literally Superman. There's no need to build up the greatness of a person when the audience likely comes with that expectation baked in.

The choice seems less unusual the more the movie unfolds. It's clear the aim here is not to mythologize Christopher Reeve, but show a more complete picture of the man he was. Now by no means is this a "hit piece." (Indeed, all of Reeve's children are involved in the movie.) A great deal of time is rightfully spent on his charitable and political lobbying efforts in the years after his accident. And of course, there are glowing interviews with Reeve's movie co-stars, gushing about why he was the perfect performer to make you "believe a man could fly."

But neither does the movie shy away from more complicated parts of Reeve's life. He is shown to have within him the insecurities of the starving artist, with the accompanying desires surrounding reputation and creative fulfillment. Reeve clearly understood what it meant to be perceived as a hero -- and sometimes struggled to balance that with the deep personal needs that so often is part of the makeup of the typical actor.

Indeed, if the movie seeks to make out anyone as an unvarnished hero, it's Reeve's wife Dana, who is shown to be a caring, uplifting person both before and after her husband's accident. I appreciated how much time the movie devoted to a truly amazing person I didn't know nearly as much about as the principal subject.

I was never too deeply into comics as a kid -- not generally, or Superman specifically. Still, I was often moved by this documentary of "my generation's" Superman. I give Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story a B.

Enterprise Flashback: Fusion

An often-cited shortcoming of Star Trek is that it portrays alien cultures as monolothic, despite it being obvious from human culture that such uniformity -- even in a utopian future -- is unlikely. One Enterprise episode that breaks from this norm is "Fusion."

Enterprise encounters a ship crewed by a Vulcan splinter group who embrace and express emotion. While T'Pol initially regards their beliefs as dangerous, she is ultimately persuaded by one Vulcan, Tolaris, to explore her own emotions. But Tolaris is soon revealed to be every bit as dangerous as Vulcan orthodoxy might suggest.

Episodes like "Fusion" are generally conceived to tell a story more than "world build," but it is interesting to see a different kind of Vulcan here. Their captain -- played by actor Robert Pine (father of eventual Captain Kirk actor Chris Pine) is a fun introduction to the differences: a smiling, personable Vulcan who actually wins Archer over and then comes over for dinner (to eat meat!). Yet he's actually a surprisingly minor character in this installment.

The episode is more focused on the unlikely friendship between Trip and Kov. Kov is an odd character, a bit of a Vulcan nerd (and yes, when you see this guy, you'll feel they aren't all nerds) who -- because he's on Enterprise, of course -- is rather obsessed with sex. Fortunately, the story doesn't dwell on these aspects for long; ultimately, this subplot is about regret and the other strong emotions surrounding estrangement from a parent, and the death of the parent. It's surprisingly weighty stuff, starting out from such a light place, but it's actually a nice little story, in large part thanks to guest actor John Harrington Bland.

The main storyline of the episode surrounds T'Pol's relationship with Tolaris. For a while, it seems like we're watching the Vulcan version of a rom-com, complete with a flirtatious meet-cute and T'Pol trying to reckon with the unfamiliar feelings she's experiencing. Then, it seems like we're getting an episode about Vulcan abilities that Trek fans take for granted: T'Pol (and most Vulcans), we learn, does not know how to "mind meld." Tolaris is the Vulcan hippie, of a sort, who can teach her.

Yet just as the Kov storyline starts light and turns heavier, the Tolaris/T'Pol storyline is headed to a darker place too -- a mental assault on T'Pol that is clearly coded as a sexual assault. The Next Generation made an episode with similar content, but Enterprise's take (to my surprise) feels more sophisticated. We see every step of Tolaris winning -- and then abusing -- T'Pol's trust. She lets herself be vulnerable in a way she rarely allows, and unfortunately pays this horrible price. But the story does not "victim blame"; we're always with T'Pol, and the episode is ultimately crystal clear in painting Tolaris as a monster.

Still, this is relatively early in the run of Enterprise, and Jolene Blalock has a long way to go as an actress. She's certainly not as nuanced as Leonard Nimoy -- or even as Tim Russ -- in playing a Vulcan. While this script is stronger than other recent Enterprise episodes, I think Blalock is not yet up to the task of carrying an episode mostly on her shoulders. (Or, at least, not one this heavy.) I appreciate the emotional weight of this story more than I truly feel it.

Other observations:

• Much is made of Archer's childhood astronomy book in the opening of this episode, including a custom prop shown prominently on screen. The book's author, Laura Danly, was named for the curator of the Griffith Observatory at the time.

• Trip mentions at one point that one-third of the crew of Enteprise are women. Really? Only a third?

The proverbial reach of "Fusion" might exceed its grasp a little, but I'd still call it a decent episode. I give it a B.

Inside This Movie Are Two Wolfs

Apple TV+ is not just in the business of hosting some of the best television series on streaming; they're also in the movie business. (They won the first Best Picture Oscar for a movie released on a streaming platform, much to Netflix's annoyance.) Not all their movies are plays for prestige, though. Sometimes, they're just there to have fun... as was very much the case with Wolfs.

The "fixer" is a staple of crime films -- the nameless, no-nonsense operative who sweeps in at a desperate moment to make a problem go away. When a man dies in a district attorney's hotel room, the D.A. calls such a man to help her... without knowing the hotel owner has also called a fixer to the scene. The two "wolfs" must work together, much to their mutual annoyance, to deal with a problem that turns out to be a good deal more complex than thought.

That's the summary of the plot of Wolfs, but it's not the best way to summarize the movie. That would be this: did you like Ocean's Eleven? Want to see George Clooney and Brad Pitt banter with each other for another couple of hours, playing similar characters? Wolfs is for you.

There is no new ground being broken in this movie. This is another entry in the subgenre of "bickering rivals forced to work together" -- a subgenre so full that no one person could ever watch them all. But such movies are much like a rom-com -- they ultimately live or die by the chemistry of the two leads, and whether audiences want to see them together. Sign me up for the mini Ocean's Eleven reunion, please.

The movie isn't totally devoid of surprise. (And you might find it has even more surprises if you avoid the trailer.) You get plenty of action too, from chases to shoot-outs. Writer-director Jon Watts, who's behind all the MCU Spider-Man movies, knows a thing or two about making a crowd-pleasing confection of an action movie, and while he may not be at the top of his game here, I'd say he still pulls out a win.

But, at the risk of repeating myself, Clooney and Pitt are The Reason to watch the movie. I find the two (separately, and as a duo) to have vastly more personality than other A-listers who might anchor a movie like this. They infuse the dialogue with an energetic pop. And the fact that they're probably getting too old for a movie like this is a topic explored in the movie itself.

If you don't like them? (Again, separately, or as a duo.) Then I guarantee this movie is NOT for you. It won me over, though -- enough for a B+, and a slot in my Top 10 Movies of 2024 list. (Albeit in the lower half, that section of the list where it's probably more a matter of me not having seen the right movies yet rather than having truly found one of the best of the year.) Wolfs is a movie that delivers exactly what it promises.

Ridge Over Troubled Waters

I haven't even managed to post something about every movie I put on my Top 10 List for 2024. Yet here I am, already revising that list to include literally the first movie I caught up on in calendar year 2025.

Rebel Ridge is an "action-thriller" (though the balance is more weighted to the latter). Set in a small Louisiana town, the story opens with Terry Richmond being harassed by local police. The black former Marine is on his way to the courthouse to post bail for his cousin, and when the police seize his cash, he's put in a very desperate situation. He tries to play by the rules to resolve the matter, but it quickly becomes clear how deep the rot goes in this town, and things escalate.

This movie comes from writer-director Jeremy Saulnier, who got my attention with Green Room and kept it when I backtracked to see Blue Ruin. While not every one of his films wowed me, I feel like I want to check out anything new from him -- and Rebel Ridge rewarded this. Indeed, it's possible this movie played better because I'd seen Green Room; I knew just how far he was willing to take things as a storyteller, which kept me wondering just how far Rebel Ridge would push.

In any case, Rebel Ridge is a wound-up machine, all coiled tension demanding a release. And it makes you wait for that release in the most satisfying way. It serves up a dealer's choice of reasons to back whatever move the protagonist might make -- a cousin he's looking out for, a courthouse clerk who risks her own neck to help, or just how corrupt and disgusting the police are shown to be.

Through it all, star Aaron Pierre portrays his character Terry with impossible calm -- the calm that a black man is forced to adopt in too many situations. But the movie makes clear just how dangerous Terry can be, and makes equally clear that at some point we are going to see that. Pierre is a magnetic presence on camera despite the stillness, and is equally up to starring in the "action movie" that this ultimately becomes.

AnnaSophia Robb plays court clerk Summer, a great foil for our hero who gets to express the emotion that Terry must usually keep bottled up. And Don Johnson plays police chief Sandy Burnne, the most infuriating "good ol' boy" of a villain, who ensures these events will come to a violent end. But the movie has a solid cast throughout, including another strong villainous performance from Emory Cohen, and a potent scene with James Cromwell.

Rebel Ridge is a movie with a lot to say -- about racism, poverty, and the practice of civil forfeiture. But even while making its message abundantly clear, it is foremost a tense thriller and entertaining action film. I give it an A-, and a slot at #4 on my Top Movies of 2024 list.

Enterprise Flashback: Shuttlepod One

One of the best episodes of the original Star Trek's first season was "The Galileo Seven," a survivalist thriller centered around a shuttlecraft disaster. Decades later, spin-off Enterprise used a similar premise for its own first season episode, "Shuttlepod One."

On a mission away from Enterprise, "Trip" Tucker and Malcolm Reed's shuttlepod is severely damaged. As rescue seems increasingly unlikely, the two resort to more desperate measures to prolong the time they have left, and ultimately come to accept that this might be the end.

Though I invoke "The Galileo Seven" as a touchstone, "Shuttlepod One" is actually a very different kind of episode -- almost a two-hand play for Connor Trinneer and Dominic Keating. Indeed, this is apparently the only Star Trek episode (of any series) to feature no guest stars, no background actors, and no stunt performers at any point in the episode. (It's also one of the very few to have no scenes on the bridge / command center of its starship / station.)

What the production saves in excluding all of that, it spends in other ways. To capture the freezing interior of the dead shuttlepod, they actually refrigerated the set. (Nowadays, they'd probably put in all the visible breath using visual effects; here, though, they're all the real thing.) There are also plenty of good visual effects shots of the ship navigating asteroids, coming upon what they mistake as the wreck of Enterprise, drifting in space, and more.

There are nice character details sprinkled throughout the episode. Reed shows some national pride, arguing that Vulcans might have been more helpful to humanity if Zefram Cochrane had been European. He and Trip debate the appeal of reading Ulysses vs. reading comic books. As the situation gets more dire, the two characters are really allowed to bicker with one another, and the two actors make the most of the conflict. The episode becomes not only a successor to "The Galileo Seven," but to the emerging friendship between Bashir and O'Brien on Deep Space Nine -- a situation of people who kind of don't like each other becoming the best of friends.

Still, I think the script has some notably weak elements. We're introduced to a strange zealotry the Vulcans seem to have about science: if they haven't discovered it (microsingularities, in this episode), then it doesn't exist. (This continues to be a thing in future episodes, and it continues to be weird.) Trip and Reed make more than a few dumb decisions to facilitate the story: ignoring malfunctions that turn out to be early warning signs, and abandoning the supposed Enterprise wreck immediately without further investigation. And because Enterprise always has to do something unnecessarily horny, we get Reed's dream about an overtly sexy T'Pol, and a later discussion of her "bum."

I think there are some structural problems too. The episode lets the audience off the hook right away, showing scenes aboard Enterprise immediately after the opening credits. (Sure, we all know Enterprise isn't actually destroyed, but they certainly could have left us wondering how damaged it might be for a lot longer.) Plus, it's hard to take how immediately and thoroughly Reed gives up on all hope of survival. Sure, people can be like that. Hell, I might well be that way myself in such a situation. But we're not used to a main character on a Star Trek series being like this; Trek heroes are ingenious to a fault, always chasing solutions, however unlikely. Reed's attitude here is such a turd in the punch bowl, increasingly annoying to watch as the episode unspools -- especially in contrast to the more Trek-typical Trip.

Other observations:

• Another element that makes Reed's behavior hard to take is that the character has been given so little personality and so few traits to this point. All we really know about him is his devotion to duty. Yet here, his constant insubordination condtradicts this only thing we know about him (other than "he likes pineapple"). The conflict is good for the episode, but bad for the character.

• Why does Captain Archer have a bottle of bourbon stashed on the shuttle? Surely his quarters would be a better place to keep it?

• Connor Trinneer does a credible job of acting drunk. (It's not as easy as you'd think.) Though I think the really late-episode "shivering in the cold" is over the top for both him and Dominic Keating. (Besides, don't you actually become quite still as you get really cold?)

"Shuttlepod One" is a solid production, and I think the two key actors do a good job with the script they're given. Still, I think that script could have used quite a bit more polish. I give the episode a B-.

Resident Status

There are a handful of television series named for their principle character -- and the character is usually a spotlight for an actor to go broad and make a meal of the role. I think no one has ever been given license to ham it up like Alan Tudyk on the series Resident Alien.

Over three seasons (and counting), Resident Alien is the story of a literal alien from outer space who assumes human form, replacing the doctor of the fictitious Colorado mountain town of Patience. He tries to maintain his cover as he plots the destruction of the human race -- but the longer he maintains human form, the more he begins to sympathize with the lowly creatures and to consider abandoning his mission.

Award shows continue pushing the lie that one hour shows are "dramas" and half hour shows are "comedies"; Resident Alien strongly demonstrates how untrue that is. Sure, each season-long arc tracks some impending jeopardy, touches on emotional developments in the lives of people of Patience, and features its share of heartfelt conversations. But the north star of Resident Alien is letting Alan Tudyk act as ridiculously as possible and do anything for a laugh.

Any fan -- of Firefly, or Rogue One, or Harley Quinn, or any of the countless Disney movies in which Tudyk has voiced everything from a duke to a tech guru to a rooster -- will know that Alan Tudyk can steal any scene he's in seemingly without effort. And no thievery is necessary in Resident Alien; the scripts are just written to hand over the goods. The show is reliably over the top, but always in service of storytelling and/or a good laugh.

It takes a while for the regular human characters to be fleshed out anywhere near as well as the show's titular alien. But many of the show's earliest and best laughs come from the alien's rivalry with a child played by Judah Prehn. (The two characters are about on the same level of maturity.) The town sheriff played by Corey Reynolds emerges as an outsized buffoon that would easily be the wildest character on any other show. Then suddenly, almost before you know what's happened, you find yourself caring about the other major characters played by Sara Tomko, Alice Wetterlund, Elizabeth Bowen, and others.

Many recognizable faces from comedy and science fiction ultimately come along to play for an episode or a protracted run, including Linda Hamilton, Terry O'Quinn, Alex Borstein, Enver Gjokaj, and Edi Patterson. (Voices too! See -- or actually, don't see -- George Takei, Clancy Brown, and Nathan Fillion.)

Through 3 seasons, each of a wildly different number of episodes, Resident Alien never quite reached "must-see" status for me amid other compulsively-watchable shows I follow. Yet at the same time, it was always good for some fluffy fun, and there was never any question that I would eventually watch all the episodes and be exactly where I am now: waiting for season 4 to arrive. If you need a lighter addition to your TV diet, Resident Alien might be the show for you. I give it a B+.

Enterprise Flashback: Shadows of P'Jem

An early fan favorite episode of Enterprise was "The Andorian Incident," perhaps in large part due to the reappearance of a Star Trek fan favorite actor, Jeffrey Combs. It should come as no surprise that the series' first notable "toe in the water" of serialized storytelling was a follow-up to that episode, with "Shadows of P'Jem."

When Andorians destroy the monastery where Enterprise exposed a secret Vulcan spy installation, the Vulcan High Command orders that T'Pol be recalled from her post aboard the human ship. She has time for one final mission to an alien world... but she and Archer are captured by hostile locals. To repay his debt to Archer for exposing the Vulcan's treachery, the Andorian Shran offers his help in mounting a rescue.

This episode has the whiff of "February sweeps" around it, with multiple veteran Star Trek actors putting in appearances in the hopes of enticing Star Trek fans to watch. While Jeffrey Combs' return as Shran is welcome, not every guest actor has a meaningful contribution to make to the episode. Character actor Gregory Itzin is one of television's most reliable weasels, but must subsume much of his oiliness beneath Vulcan decorum. The most un-Vulcan-like behavior is given to Gary Graham, who returns for just one scene as Soval, spewing venom and vindictiveness. (I guess this prequel is meant to show us that "Vulcans don't fully know how to Vulcan yet" just as "Starfleet officers are still learning how to Starfleet.")

Another oddity of wanting to air this episode during an important time for television ratings is that it feels like this sequel story is coming too long after the original. More episodes have passed between this episode and "The Andorian Incident" than there were between that episode and the premiere. As a result, it seems that the hot-headed Andorians -- enraged by the confirmation that Vulcans are spying on them -- for some reason waited three months to do anything about it.

But none of that is as awkward as specific moments throughout the episode. There's the Vulcan illogically assuming that hostage takers will behave logically. During the climactic rescue, there's a very distracting (and almost unheard of for Star Trek) use of slow motion. And let's not forget the extended, prurient scene in which Archer and T'Pol are tied up together -- a weak excuse to watch them rub up on each other before he falls face first into her chest.

Speaking of Archer, the writers keep digging a hole for the character, apparently determined to make him as unlikable as possible. He's chastised by Admiral Forrest for his lack of diplomacy. He whines that the Vulcans have no right to take T'Pol from Enterprise when they most emphatically do: she's their officer. He contrives to keep her aboard Enterprise in the end, without ever asking T'Pol herself if that's what she wants. And it's always dicey when a boss does comedy bits at an employee's expense -- as Archer does here to Trip, trying to convince the engineer he's being left out of a mission he's eager to go on.

Fortunately, there are a few good elements sprinkled throughout too. The action of the rescue is mostly well executed. Everything with Shran is entertaining, from Jeffrey Combs' performance to fun lighting to emphasize the character's articulating antennae. And it's another good episode for Phlox, from advice he gives to the only other non-human on the ship, to a very sly "lying without lying" moment at the end of the episode. (When asked if T'Pol will survive her injuries, he says only: "I wish I could say.")

Other observations:

• The guard who brings Archer and T'Pol their gruel is for some reason wearing parachute pants.

• T'Pol just straight-up lies in this episode, claiming she is the captain of the Enterprise and Archer merely a steward. Her captor then notes that Vulcans don't lie -- but T'Pol never gets a chance to justify her choice.

• At one point, Reed notes that there are only 15 phase pistols aboard the Enterprise -- and I have to wonder if this might be a "photon torpedoes aboard Voyager" kind of situation that doesn't hold true over time.

They say the sequel is almost never as good as the original. As a follow-up to "The Andorian Incident," I'd say "Shadows of P'Jem" proves the point. The parade of notable Star Trek actors helps lift it up to a soft B-, but I also feel that at this point, Enterprise has a long way to go in fleshing out the franchise's long-established-but-rarely-utilized Andorians.

He Scores!

Ask any movie lover who's into film scores, and they'll surely name John Williams as one of their favorite composers of movie music. He's been nominated for a staggering 54 Oscars, and countless other awards besides, yet it still feels like he can't be praised highly enough. A new documentary streaming on Disney+ delves into exactly why that is: the cheekily titled Music by John Williams.

I will readily confess that this is far from the most insightful documentary you could watch. It isn't here to expose a version of the man you don't know, and isn't here to tell you much new information. It's here to celebrate the man's accomplishments -- his music. And in this endeavor, it excels.

Even a fan of John Williams could be hard-pressed to name just how many amazing scores he's created. He's done what for any other composer could be called "career best" work perhaps a dozen times, and this documentary helps you appreciate the breadth of that as it presents one achievement after another in dizzying procession from Williams' long career.

I have always responded most enthusiastically to movies that make me feel the most emotions, and this documentary shows -- again and again -- how no one is better at doing that than John Williams. Not even, I would say, director Steven Spielberg, who (as Williams' long-time collaborator) is featured heavily in this documentary; Spielberg is enthusiastic to celebrate just how much of the success of his own career can be credited directly to the work of John Williams.

What I found truly remarkable about watching Music by John Williams is just how much I was caught up in the emotions of these great films all over again. Pieces are played that I've heard, probably literally, a hundred times. They're not even played in their entirely. Sometimes they're accompanied by clips of the movies they were created for, and sometimes not. But as Jaws crashes into Star Wars, and into Close Encounters of the Third Kind, into Superman, into Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T., Jurassic Park, Schindler's List (and many, many, many more), I felt myself swept up in sheer awe of the genius who created it all.

Is this documentary kind of just a "puff piece?" Sure, probably. But few subjects would be as worthy, I think. Though the documentary doesn't seem to aspire to be any more than a fan-style gushing about John Williams, in the pursuit of that simple goal, it does illuminate just why movies can evoke these kinds of feelings, and what it is about Williams in particular that does it.

So no, maybe this isn't profound, but it made me feel all of the things in the way the movies I enjoy most always do. So I find myself giving Music by John Williams an A-. Put simply, I enjoyed it more than nearly every other movie I watched in 2024, and thus I think it earned that high mark. And I think any fan of film music (even casually), would enjoy it too.

2024 in Review -- Television

While I've been posting a "year in games" review and "year in movies" review for a long while now, this is only the second time I've done a "year in TV" review.

Comparing my "Top 10 Lists" from 2024 and 2023, I'd say that the 2023 is a slightly stronger and more even list all the way through #10. But if it were just a "Top 5" list, 2024 comes out ahead -- the "best of the best" was better in 2024 than the year before.

What 5 or 10 shows am I talking about?

10) The Big Door Prize. (Season 2) Season 2 of the now-cancelled series was a notable step up from season 1. The story of a town-wide journey of self-exploration (or, as some in the show call it, "selfploration") had plenty of moving moments, sweet sentiments, and helpful observations on life -- and plenty of compelling characters just struggling to find their authentic selves. I'm sorry the series won't ever reach its natural conclusion... but then, self-actualization is a life-long process that never truly ends, isn't it?

9) What We Do in the Shadows. (Season 6) This show arguably went one season too long (a notion hilariously commented upon in the series finale). And there was certainly never any "learning or growing" among the characters (also commented upon). But the show keep squeezing funny juice out of its highly specific (and you would think limited) premise. Without this season, we wouldn't have the hilarity of Cravensworth's Monster, Guillermo's corporate job, or Nandor's moody crisis of self-worth. Even if the show did last one season too long, it ended while it was still really great.

8) Ghosts. (Season 3... and part of season 4) This sitcom remains the best thing happening on old-fashioned, non-streaming, over-the-air television. The abbreviated season 3 (shortened by Hollywood strikes and multiple pregnancies in the cast) wasn't quite up to the level of the first two seasons -- yet still very good. And so far, season 4 is fully back to its reliably hilarious hijinks. The series continues to flesh out its sprawling cast of characters in surprising ways that make you actually care about everyone beyond just the jokes -- which make me laugh out loud multiple times every episode.

7) Silo. (Season 2) The new season of Silo is still running, split across 2024 and 2025, but it should certainly count on at least one of those lists. It's working in an area of the source novels that's been far more challenging to adapt than season one, yet it has continued to excel. It manages to make me feel a real sense of jeopardy, even though I've read the story. It's kept the narrative alive outside of Juliette's immediate field of view, and Steve Zahn has given a strong performance as the challenging-on-the-page new character of Solo. For all these reasons, and the continued great performances of Rebecca Ferguson, Tim Robbins, and more, this series gets a spot on my list.

6) Masters of the Air. I didn't have much faith that a follow-up to the tremendous Band of Brothers (and "pretty good" The Pacific), coming years and years later, could be great. But it absolutely was. Perhaps this long was needed for visual effects on television to reach a point to tell this story. In any case, these tales of another theater of World War II were impactful, at times harrowing, and moving.

5) Dead Boy Detectives. We got only one season of this delightful show... which arrived just before disappointing (but credible) accusations against creator Neil Gaiman made the rounds. Despite those two dark clouds over the show, there was still so much good. A tight core of delightful characters, each compelling portrayed. "One-off" stories skillfully juggled with an ongoing storyline. To me, these few episodes were light years better than the show that loosely spawned it (The Sandman).

4) Star Trek: Lower Decks. (Season 5) I can understand ending Star Trek: Discovery. Star Trek: Picard always felt like a limited thing anyway. But it is mind-boggling to me that Lower Decks isn't going to continue for years and years to come. At least if it had to end, it went out on top in every conceivable way -- with the best season of the series, the best final season of any Star Trek since Deep Space Nine, and a jam-packed, celebratory finale episode that concluded everything well, while still leaving room for the Powers That Be to come to their senses some day. We're fortunate that there was so much Star Trek in this new age of Star Trek that there was room enough for something like this -- seemingly irreverent, while subtly laying claim to being one of the most authentically Star Trek series of all.

3) Slow Horses. (Season 4) Every season of Slow Horses has been superb, but this season made a strong case for being the best so far, with a plot-twisty story about an agent on the lam, a deadly terrorist attack, a secret past coming back to haunt one of the heroes, and more I'd rather not even hint at. The cast remains uniformly fantastic, with Gary Oldman in particular doing quite possibly career-best work (in a truly exceptional career) -- Jackson Lamb is one of television's all-time great characters.

2) Shrinking. (Season 2) There's always some sitcom somewhere on television doing a masterful job of blending laughs with serious drama; Shrinking is the best there is right now, and I dare say very few shows have ever done it so well. The second season was even stronger than the excellent first. The cast is amazing, top to bottom. Especially amazing things happen when Harrison Ford actually appears vulnerable on camera. And actors who have really only been known for comedy (Jason Segel and recurring season two guest star Brett Goldstein) show some surprising dramatic chops in this run too.

1) Heartstopper. (Season 3) This British teen romance drama centered on LGBT+ relationships was stronger than ever in its newest season. It dealt most effectively and emotionally with mental health struggles, highlighted trans issues at a very important time for that in the real world, and featured best-yet performances from its young cast. The show was devastating and hopeful in turns, and my favorite television of 2024.

A couple of honorable mentions:

• Shōgun would have been #11 on my list. I thought it was solid overall, but it lost me a bit in the finale -- hence it just missing my list.

• I'm five years behind on this, but I began watching The Morning Show in 2024, and season 1 was excellent. If this were a list of "top 10 shows I watched this year" and not specifically "shows from 2024," it would actually take the number 3 slot. (When I catch up on the whole series to date, I'm sure I'll dedicate a blog post to it.)

There's already a lot of 2025 television to look forward to: season 2 of Severance arrives in just a couple of weeks, season 2 of Star Wars: Andor will be amazing even if it's only half as good as the first, ditto for season 2 of The Last of Us... plus an Alien series from TV genius Noah Hawley is set to debut, a new Star Trek series should arrive at some point, and perhaps some new favorite I haven't even heard of yet.