Strange New Worlds: Off-Hour

Season four of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds continues with "Off-Hour."

A ship-wide crisis unfolds just as the Alpha crew is going off-duty. Separated all over the ship, they must find a way to escape a slipstream before Enterprise is destroyed. But first they must deal with an electrified bridge, a grisly Sickbay accident, gravity plating malfunctions, sensor failures, dangerous radiation, and more.

For several episodes now, Strange New Worlds has been swerving stylistically each week to push the limits of the stories that can be told on Star Trek. This week's tale is more "typical Star Trek" (indeed, you could compare it to The Next Generation's "Disaster") -- and so perhaps it will be more to the liking of people who haven't enjoyed the swings from horror movie to stoner comedy to film noir to puppet show.

Still, the episode was definitely borrowing visuals from somewhere else. There was no terrorist threat, but this episode was still a clear homage to 24: unfolding in real time, reminding us of the ticking clock, and using plenty of split screen. After four weeks of more elaborate and complete "tributes," I found this sort of surface level mimicry to be somewhat less satisfying.

Yet I wouldn't say the choice to "do 24" added nothing. As I mentioned, this kind of story has been done before on The Next Generation. But on top of several quite different plot elements, "Off-Hour" further differentiates itself with the real-time aspect. Putting the clock on screen might have felt a touch gimmicky, but the sense of urgency was stronger for it.

This episode also felt dangerous. This being a prequel, you can of course know which characters aren't actually able to die here. But from electrical burns to crushed mid-sections to broken legs to extreme irradiation to snapped-off fingers, everything felt life-threatening. And not just because of the grisly makeup and stagecraft to provoke a visceral reaction; even Spock's long crawl along the outer hull felt intense.

It was a strong episode for both Scotty and Chapel, and I thought the pacing did a good job including personal talk between characters without triggering any "why are you stopping to have this conversation right now?!" response in the audience. I particularly enjoyed smaller exchanges between Scotty and A'Sha, Una and La'An, and of course Chapel and M'Benga. But I probably should have watched with the subtitles on. Martin Quinn's real Scottish accent is harder to understand when he's animated than James Doohan's fake one (a fact the episode explicitly joked about.) Babs Olusanmokun's typically soft whisper was softer still thanks to M'Benga's injury. And Carol Kane seems to go broader with every appearance as Pelia.

Some fun nuggets for long-time Trekkers included the slipstream itself being evocative of the wormhole sequence from Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and the "pod jettison" plot point being lifted from the classic "Court Martial." Plus, of course, there was the return of original ship's doctor Boyce -- who I don't think added much here, but is presumably going to be around for multiple episodes and as part of some larger plan.

Overall, I thought "Off-Hour" was a well-executed thrill ride that balanced tension and character well. I give it a B+.

Strange New Worlds: Level-Five Transporter Accident

For quite a while now, fans of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds have known that a "puppet episode" was coming. Those who haven't liked the eclectic genre hopping of season four have no doubt been dreading its arrival. Those who have been more into it (a subset of whom perhaps fondly remember when Buffy the Vampire Slayer spin-off Angel did its own "puppet episode") have no doubt been more optimistic. In any case, the wait is over; this last week brought us "Level-Five Transporter Accident."

Scotty attempts to break the distance record for a transport, using a childhood puppet as the test subject. But then an accident transports the entire crew, fuses them with the toy in the pattern buffer, and returns them all as puppets. Only Spock, who was alone on a nearby shuttle, is unaffected. Before the crew can solve their problem, Orion pirates attack and seize control of Enterprise. Can the puppet crew regain their ship and their original forms?

There was plenty about this episode that I loved, and quite a bit I found disappointing. Two past episodes of Star Trek loomed large in sifting those two categories. One was a Strange New Worlds episode from season two, "Subspace Rhapsody." I loved that episode, in spite of (or maybe because of) the big swing. The writers made some effort to explain away the absurd premise in Star Trek terms, then just ran with it. It worked. So did the only slightly less absurd cartoon crossover, Freaky Friday, and "Spock becomes human" episodes. I think one of the big reasons was, they just went for it!

I'm spoiling the end of the "puppet episode" here... but this time, they didn't go for it. Instead, they went for an "it was all a dream" cop out. Is that supposed to make people happy who weren't on board with the puppets? They didn't even fully embrace the cop out. If this was all Spock's dream, then it should follow that we see nothing he isn't present for. (But we get several scenes without him.)

The other episode that looms large for me is the one that "Level-Five Transporter Accident" is pretty much straight-up remaking: Star Trek: The Next Generation's "Rascals." A transporter accident does something unthinkable to the characters, something so wild and outside the box that a chunk of the audience is going to just reject the idea outright. In this compromised and distracted state, an enemy you wouldn't normally have to take seriously is able to gain control of the Enterprise. Then, the victims of the transporter accident must learn to embrace what's happened to them to overcome the invaders.

That last bit is crucial to the episode, the thing that keeps it from being a total lark and that makes me like "Rascals" more (a lot more) than I think the average Trek fan does: the affected characters actually learn something from their experience. In "Accident," not only does "it's all a dream" rob us of the growth for every character but the dreamer, the script doesn't have an arc for them. Right away, the puppet characters are cowering behind consoles, engaging in Three Stoogery, and generally acting out of character. That's good for laughs, but it totally undermines the eventual revelation that they must start acting like puppets to get out of this situation; they've been doing that the entire time.

Now, if you wall off all those serious considerations (which the episode itself clearly wanted to do), I have to admit... it was entertaining. More of the jokes worked for me than didn't -- and not just when it came to the puppets. (For example, I loved casting Brooklyn Nine-Nine's Joe Lo Truglio as an affable Orion pirate.) You'd probably think from reading the above that I "harrumphed" my way through this episode... when in fact the opposite was true. I smiled often, laughed occasionally, and generally enjoyed it.

And of course, a large part of the reason why was that the puppetry was pretty great. Fantastic design from The Jim Henson Company captured the essence of each character in felt form. Amped-up vocal performances from the cast tapped into the unhinged vibe. The puppeteers did fantastic work. And Ethan Peck excelled as this Muppet Show's human "guest star."

So yeah, I did rather like this episode. I just didn't like that it didn't go all-in on what it set out to be, and was a bit disappointed that what it set out to be was "Rascals" remade. I give "Level-Five Transporter Accident" a B. I imagine that might be a rare lukewarm opinion between more prevailing white-hot and ice-cold takes, but there you have it.

8 Is Enough

I use an app to keep an actual list of movies I'd like to watch. Sometimes I add movies that are out in theaters, so that in case I don't make it, I'll be able to catch up on streaming. Sometimes I add an interesting-sounding movie I hear mentioned on a podcast. Just friendly reminders to myself for later. For these reasons (among many others), I've ended up with a list that includes a lot of movies that I can't remember putting there.

This is how I found Exit 8 on my list. And it's an especially eclectic entry. It's a Japanese movie. (So right there, I'd say the odds are I heard about it on a film podcast.) It's based on a video game. (Which I'd never heard of; but with countless games available for instant download across dozens of platforms, that's no great surprise.) But it had an intriguing premise I felt I just had to see.

A young man gets off the subway and soon finds himself lost and alone in an underground tunnel. It actually appears to be the same underground tunnel, as he keeps walking and taking the same turns only to find himself passing the same features. Then he notices a sign outlining simple rules: he begins at "Exit 0" and can only leave through "Exit 8." To reach it, he must be observant. If he arrives in a corridor and finds any "anomalies," he must turn around and walk the other direction. If there are none, he must continue ahead. The man feels hope as he soon finds his way to "Exit 1".... and that hope is dashed not long after when he finds himself back at "Exit 0." Can he make the right choices enough times in a row to escape?

When I re-read the short description of the movie, I remembered why I'd put it on the list (if not when). It seemed like a ripe premise for a psychological horror film. And I kind of had to know if the filmmakers could possibly sustain the idea. How does what I just described last for a whole movie -- even one that's only 95 minutes long?

Director Genki Kawamura, working with a script by him and Kentaro Hirase, does actually manage to pull it off. I'd really rather not spoil any surprises, but suffice it say that I never felt the movie reached a point of stagnation. Before I would ever begin to wonder "this isn't really all the movie is going to be, is it?", it would expand the story. Through a clever combination of "twists," character motivations, and effectively creepy imagery, the movie kept me with it the entire way.

It has a couple of other elements helping it along. One is some very smart camera work. There's a lot of very horror-savvy placement of the camera. And while the movie doesn't try to present itself as a single take for the entire duration, there are plenty of great tricks to hide edits. Sure, there also a few obviously CG-assisted moments with ambition too great for the movie's budget, but I don't feel they really detract from the whole.

Another key asset is the movie's main star, Kazunari Ninomiya, who gives a good performance as The Lost Man. There is a very limited cast in this movie, and Ninomiya really has to do some heavy lifting. Working without a scene partner. Believably talking to yourself. Two of the tougher challenges in acting, and he handles them both.

My one reservation -- I'm not quite sure the movie sticks the landing. As I say that, I must also acknowledge that this is just one of those story premises that probably can't have a satisfying ending. The idea is more compelling than the resolution. Seeing whether they can keep the ride going is more exciting than the ride coming to an end. Exit 8 doesn't have a "bad" ending, but if you're going to watch it because you're intrigued by anything I've described here, please don't watch it to see how it ends.

I'd give Exit 8 a B+. Perhaps the real enthusiasts -- of either horror movies or foreign films -- are already aware of it. But for most of you, perhaps I'm putting something on your radar you've never heard of.

Strange New Worlds: A Case of Chiaroscuro

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds continues to bring us a new show every week (almost a completely new show) with "A Case of Chiaroscuro."

Una, M'Benga, and Uhura are sent on a shuttle mission at the edge of Klingon space -- in a region where stellar radiation flattens the visible color spectrum to black and white. When they're forced to set down on inhabited planet, they must disguise themselves as locals to blend in among a Klingon occupation. But for Una, "blending in" isn't an option; she is mistaken for the leader of a dissident movement and is quickly drawn into its plans. Meanwhile, aboard Enterprise, La'An investigates potential tampering with a spy probe.

I felt it necessary to post my thoughts on Spider-Noir before getting to a review of this episode -- because I'm quite sure that watching that series affected the way I received this installment of Strange New Worlds. After I'd watched Spider-Noir brilliantly thread the needle of poking a little fun at film noir conventions while simultaneously honoring them, I couldn't help but feel that this episode was not that. Put simply, there's more to film noir than putting on a certain kind of costume and filming in black and white. That's where "A Case of Chiaroscuro" fell short for me.

The "A plot" of this episode is an interesting storyline for Una: as she reminds the audience, she has a lot of experience pretending to be something she's not... but this time she's doing it for a cause bigger than herself. And with a backdrop of opposing a totalitarian regime, the story has topical echoes that are ripe for Star Trek to tackle. Throw in some solid moments for Dr. M'Benga and Uhura (particularly between the two of them), and you've got the makings of a decent episode.

But the thing is... it's not film noir. Actually, it's Casablanca. This isn't a beat for beat remake of that classic film, but you can clearly see where character roles, story elements, and visuals are inspired directly by that movie. (Perhaps never more so than the scene where locals in the bar start up a beloved song to drown out interlopers.) Casablanca is, of course, a black and white film. But that's just a consequence of when it was made; that doesn't make it a film noir. 

Indeed, it's the "B plot" aboard the Enterprise that tracks more closely to the elements of a true film noir. La'An is a detective trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. She sees a larger conspiracy in a place where "the authorities" have dismissed it. She uncovers the truth and learns that things aren't... (ahem)... black and white. Force this analogy past the breaking point, and maybe Spock is some kind of "femme fatale" figure who betrays the detective (by not believing in her)?

Yeah, this doesn't quite fit the film noir formula either... possibly because it feels a bit thin. Still, it highlights the jumble I felt in this episode's conception. Down on the planet you have the fedoras, the suits, the Dutch angles, the deep shadows... all the visual trappings. Up on the ship you have the actual mystery, the questioning suspects, the uncovering of a deeper plot... and none of the visual trappings. "A Case of Chiaroscuro" is nominally the episode where "Strange New World does film noir." Yet it doesn't. It prepares all the ingredients for a meal and then leaves them separate on the counter without cooking.

Yet even though I found the episode to be somewhat disappointing, I didn't think it was bad. As I mentioned earlier, I think all three main characters on the planet had interesting moments. And there was also fun in getting a (p)return of a classic Klingon character, Kor -- and getting to actually see his "mind sifter," which up until now had been mentioned only in one classic Star Trek episode to never be spoken of again.

Overall, I give "A Case of Chiaroscuro" a B-. It might be an example showing that, thanks to its great cast, Strange New Worlds will still be decent even when it stumbles.

Happy Brim-Day to Me

Over 40 years ago, director Ron Howard made the movie Cocoon -- a "probably couldn't get made today" tale of how alien life force rejuvenates a group of retired seniors. Among the movie's cast of older actors was Wilford Brimley. I imagine Brimley may not be known at all by today's younger generations, but there was a time he was known universally for talking about diabetes, eating oatmeal, and being perpetually grizzled. He was the exactly the sort of actor that a movie like Cocoon needed.

And, impossibly, on the day that Cocoon release in movie theaters (June 21, 1985), Wilford Brimley -- professional cranky old man -- was 50 years old. The archetypal example of "older than the hills" was 50 years, 9 months, and 6 days old to be exact.

Many years later, this led to an internet meme I've found quite funny over the years: the Brimley/Cocoon Line. This website and feed have been around for a while now to essentially point out that 50 isn't what it used to be, by pointing out when famous celebrities have crossed the "Brimley/Cocoon Line," the age at which they're now as old as Wilford Brimley was on the day Cocoon was released. It was a headscratcher when Christian Bale crossed it, quite funny when Paul Rudd crossed it, and instantly aging when Drew Barrymore crossed it.

Today, I cross it.

I'm now "Wilford Brimley" old. Nothing left to do, I guess, but wait for alien intervention. At least I have family and friends, many of whom already crossed the line ahead of me. Now we can all sneak out of the retirement home together to use the neighbor's pool

Black and White, but Not Plain

Like most people who saw Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, I was entertained by the parade of increasingly unusual parallel universe heroes. But did that mean I was clamoring for an eight-episode television spin-off about Spider-Noir, the film noir inspired character voiced by Nicolas Cage? Not really. And yet, that Spider-Verse movie itself had come at a time where there was no shortage of Spider-Man movies, when "no one had asked for this," and it had turned out to be really good. Could that history repeat itself with a new TV series?

Set in a crime-ridden 1930s New York, Spider-Noir follows private investigator Ben Reilly. Devastated by the loss of a loved one, he's hung up his superhero alter ego, The Spider. But when superpowered villains begin to terrorize the city, he must step up once again.

I'm sure I've blogged this many times -- so at the risk of repeating myself: I don't really care for film noir. I've watched a lot of the classic movies of the genre, and found only a couple that I enjoyed. Generally, I think they're too cliché, from the performative accents to the mandatory character archetypes to the formulaic plots. I was sure that's what I was in for Spider-Noir.

It turns out: I was, but in all the best ways. The developer and show runner of the series, Oren Uziel, clearly knows all the trappings of film noir -- and clearly loves them dearly. Well, no one can do parody quite like a person who deeply knows and loves the thing they're parodying. Spider-Noir isn't a straight-up Mel Brooks-style joke fest poking fun at a genre... but it is a show that knowingly turns the film noir cliches up to 11 and doesn't quite play everything straight.

And if you ask me, that's a perfect thing to fuse into the superhero genre. "Taking everything super-seriously" is about the only way a superhero movie or show gets made these days; even when the results are supposed to be a little funny and irreverent, they almost always turn serious for the big climax. But all the while, there's a fundamental over-the-topness to comics that edges oh-so-close to silly. And it turns out that for me, putting that together with the same qualities of film noir was like mixing peanut butter and chocolate.

Better still was casting Nicolas Cage in the lead role. This was, of course, no casting coup; Cage voiced the character for Into the Spider-Verse. But it's hardly a given that a man in his early 60s would be the smart choice to play a romantic lead and superhero on an action-adventure show. Here's where I confess that however skeptical I am of most film noir, I'm doubly so of a performance by Nicolas Cage. That's because I find him broad to the point of self-parody. But as I just covered, that is exactly the tone of Spider-Noir: it dances right along the line of making fun of itself, occasionally putting a toe on the other side of that line only to playfully drag it back. In that recipe, an over-the-top Nicolas Cage performance suddenly feels like exactly the right ingredient.

He's one "ingredient" among several in the cast that I think works great. Karen Rodriguez is fantastic as the takes-no-guff assistant to private investigator Ben Reilly. Lamorne Morris is quite funny as his reporter best friend. Filling the noir-required roles of the heavy and femme fatale are are a wonderfully menacing Brendan Gleeson and effectively alluring Li Jun Li. Those are just my favorites; the bench of superpowered villains are a lot of fun too.

In the end, much to my surprise, I quite loved Spider-Noir, and give it an A-. Two final notes on it. One, it's a perfectly packaged little mini-series, and I find myself hoping they don't actually try to make more. Two, you can view it either in full color or in moody and authentic black-and-white. I did the latter, only checking out a minute of how it looked in color when all was said and done. (Wrong, wrong, wrong. Don't do it.) Indeed, Spider-Noir may have set a bar high enough to make me enjoy this summer's Spider-Man movie a bit less.

An Epic Movie for an Epic Poem

With the collective insistence that IMAX was the definitive format for seeing The Odyssey, it took me several weeks to finally catch up with it (at a showing with decent seats). But this past weekend, I finally got to see what all the hype was about.

I have a pretty distant relationship with the original source material. I never had to read The Odyssey for school. I was well aware of many of the plot elements, though perhaps unclear about which details were part of this classic Greek story or that one, or perhaps just part of Greek mythology generally. I assumed that I certainly wouldn't notice which details were altered by writer-director Christopher Nolan for this adaptation.

But I am someone who has seen all of Christopher Nolan's movies. (Yes, even Following.) He's only ever made one film I didn't much care for, and several I really love. Suffice it to say, I feel quite able to pick out his "signatures." Whether they were always there in The Odyssey, drawing him to that for his next movie, or they were something he imposed upon it for his version, the result is a strong vision -- a Venn diagram of "Oscar bait" and "action fantasy" we haven't seen at the movies since the original The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Like the other blockbuster I recently caught up with, my feelings were mixed. Starting with things in the "plus column": the visuals. While they might have been a touch too desaturated on average for my tastes, they were stunning throughout. The supernatural moments were clear standouts, from a monstrous and menacing Cyclops to a truly horrific and uncomfortable sequence about Circe's witchcraft. But even more mundane images looked great; the many scenes in Penelope's dining hall never became repetitive thanks to raucous staging and subtle camera positioning.

It may be that Christopher Nolan is incapable of telling a story in pure, linear fashion. But I thought the jumbling of time frames here helped the story overall. The use of flashbacks helped avoid clumping all the action at the beginning and end of the story, and also served to highlight different perspectives on the same events. All of this heightened a moralistic theme I feel fairly sure was minimal (maybe even wholly absent) from the original story: this version of The Odyssey is not a story about one man being punished by the gods so much as it is about one man punishing himself.

Clever as that inversion is, I'm not sure the source material quite supports the adjustment... and here's where I get started on more of a "minus column." The Odysseus of this story has profound regrets over his actions, most keenly that he chose violence in condemnation of Zeus' law. But after we watch him beat himself up about that for hours of screen time, the story culminates in him doing that again and apparently feeling no reservation or remorse about it. That's the ending here because Homer told us that's the ending, but it's an ending that doesn't quite fit the message that seems to have been imposed (or at least highlighted) here.

Also in this "sort of minus column," the casting. Christopher Nolan is a director who likes to work mostly with the same actors. At this point, he's built up a lengthy contact list of people -- with still more admirers who would be happy to work with him in any capacity. And so The Odyssey is an epic movie with an epic cast: an almost endless parade of A-listers, or at least recognizable faces. I don't think this is always to the movie's benefit.

Sure, you have Matt Damon ably carrying the movie, Anne Hathaway playing an unexpectedly strong-willed Penelope, Samantha Morton giving us an eerie and memorable Circe, and John Leguizamo in a surprisingly serious role as Eumaeus. You have "fine" work -- neither exceptional nor bad -- from the likes of Tom Holland, Himesh Patel, and Robert Pattinson. But then you also have a lot of squandered talent: thanklessly small and uninteresting roles for Zendaya, Charlize Theron, and Lupita Nyong'o. And even though you could argue this telling of The Odyssey turns entirely on the character of Sinon, Elliot Page doesn't get much screen time to make an impact.

Still, while Spider-Man: Brand New Day has turned out to be a "fine" movie that's wilting in my estimation with each passing day since I've seen it, The Odyssey might be a "fine" movie that's growing in the opposite way. The more I think about it, the less I fixate on whether this movie is a "waste of Zendaya" and the more I appreciate how novel and new it made very familiar material seem. I'd give The Odyssey a B-. For now. I may be revisiting the movie one day, and my opinion of it.

Strange New World: Human Best Friend

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds continues its model of weekly tonal upheaval in its latest episode, "Human Best Friend."

In need of rest and rejuvenation ahead of important peace talks, the crew of the Enterprise heads for shore leave on a resort planet with an atmosphere that induces intoxicating effects. Though most of them head off on their own separate journeys, Scotty and Ortegas are forced work through their personal differences and pair up: they must trace what happened to them during an overnight blackout and locate a missing shuttle.

This episode might be the most "Lower Decks" feeling episode of Strange New Worlds since the one that actually featured characters from Star Trek: Lower Decks. The hijinks are as broad as ever and the tone is relentlessly silly. Dave Foley from The Kids in the Hall is here to underline that fun is the mission in this mashup of The Hangover with Dude, Where's My Car? And since Lower Decks is my other favorite Star Trek series of the modern era, I'm totally here for this.

The thing I found revelatory about Lower Decks is that it was genuinely funny. Almost every series in the Star Trek franchise has taken a run at a comedic episode on occasion, but the results are usually mixed. At best, they can be quite fun and can put a smile on your face... but are rarely laugh out loud funny in the way the best sitcoms are. Lower Decks was consistently laugh out loud funny. And so was "Human Best Friend."

I was the "Leonardo DiCaprio pointing" meme when Doctor M'Benga declared of his drink: "It's green." I tittered at Anson Mount's hilarious take on drunk Pike. I snickered every time Spock saw Ortegas as a cactus. (The "special sauce" on that joke being that she always raised her hands right before we saw Spock's POV.) I belly laughed at Ethan Peck's delivery of Spock's reply to being told he didn't look drunk: "absurd!" I snorted at all the spins Celia Rose Gooding put on the word "journey" as Uhura resisted anyone trying to harsh the vibes of her party.

A good friend of mine who never quotes movies or TV texted me this week: "They stole my eyeballs!"

I gather from some of the response online that many viewers aren't into tonal whiplash this extreme -- or at a minimum, not something this zany on the heels of an episode that was straight-up horror. But I love that in an age of television that forces you to binge-view almost everything, Strange New Worlds is a series best not binged, putting some breathing room between each installment to reset expectations.

My expectations this time were well and truly satisfied. I give Human Best Friend an A-. I certainly don't want Strange New Worlds to be this every week. But when it decides to be, this is exactly what I want.

"New" Isn't Always Better

With its nearly billion-dollar opening weekend, Spider-Man: Brand New Day clearly didn't need the people attending Gen Con to show up at the theaters for a smash success. But the fact remains, almost no one attending Gen Con actually got see the movie in its first week of release. But when I finally got my first "regular weekend" in what felt like ages, I did catch up.

The newest Spider-Man MCU movie pits the web slinger against a mysterious villain with the ability to possess almost anyone to use them as a human puppet. But it's hardly the only crisis facing Peter Parker. Years of isolation have left him at the edge of depression, and now he has a worrying mutation to deal with. We all know this won't be the end of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. But will it make for a good movie?

Kind of?

Here's the thing. The MCU struck gold years ago when it cast Tom Holland to play this hero... and then struck gold again in his first stand-alone movie when they cast Zendaya to play opposite him. Each is a charismatic and talented performer on their own, and the chemistry between them is off the charts. (It seemed that they seemed to think so in real life as well.) All that is to say that with the two of them anchoring a Spider-Man movie, you've basically set a floor where no matter how badly written, no matter how poor the visuals, the movie is still going to be enjoyable in many ways.

It's probably exaggerating to say the Brand New Day is "poorly written." I certainly can't claim it has poor visuals; there are some truly inspired action sequences, with unique camerawork that we somehow haven't seen even in any of the mountain of previous Spider-Man movies. There's fun banter. The key new actor in the story, Sadie Sink (whose role was kept secret in the publicity), gives a solid performance and winds up having her own interesting kind of chemistry with Tom Holland too.

But it's not the smoothest ride. All the most critical plot elements in the narrative are unjustified; there's no reason why the act two turn or act three revelation happen, it's just the time in the story where they're supposed to happen. There certainly aren't enough scenes between Peter and MJ (though as I mentioned, Tom Holland and Zendaya absolutely make the most of what's there). The movie sidelines the established "Spider-Man movie characters" in general -- an extra disappointment after how cleverly they were integrated into the very complex story of the previous No Way Home.

Instead, Brand New Day is clearly a movie about using Spider-Man and Tom Holland to shovel more coal into the engine of the MCU, which has lost some of its steam over the past few years. Not only is the movie stuffed with MCU cameos (some of which play better than others), the whole thing pretty explicitly ends up being "about" setting up pieces on the board for the future.

The result is a movie that did deliver some satisfaction as I watched... and then began to fade for me almost immediately after I walked out of the theater. Maybe it's just that the bar for Tom Holland Spider-Man movies had been set rather high by what came before.

I give Brand New Day a B-. As for the other movie in theaters right now featuring a surprising number of the same actors? I caught up with The Odyssey as well this weekend, and will get to my thoughts on that later this week.

The Film That Doesn't Exist

I caught a rather thought-provoking documentary recently (as good documentaries generally are): Zodiac Killer Project. It's the work of filmmaker Charlie Shackleton, who narrates himself (sometimes appearing on screen) to tell the story of a film that never came to be.

The Zodiac Killer is arguably America's most notorious serial murderer, and the fact that his identity was never confirmed has only fueled interest and speculation. Countless books have been written about his crimes and his possible identity, some recently, many more contemporaneous to the murders themselves. One such book was by a California police officer, Lyndon E. Lafferty, who had his own theory of the killer's true identity -- and a somewhat fanciful tale to go along with it.

Charlie Shackleton was this close to securing the rights to make a film based on that book, The Zodiac Killer Cover-Up: The Silenced Badge. He was deep through all the pre-production planning, head swimming with the footage he'd collect, when the bottom suddenly dropped out. The rights holders refused to sign the contract, Shackleton lost access to the book, and his entire film collapsed. So instead, he made a movie talking you through the movie he would have made.

The result feels to me like the cinematic equivalent a young child licking their palm and holding it half an inch from their sibling's face as they taunt, "what, I'm not touching you!" A more highbrow way of expressing that sentiment might be to say that, having been denied the opportunity to make a serial killer documentary, Charlie Shackleton chose instead to burn the whole format down.

With relentless precision, Shackleton talks you through all the metaphorical boxes he was going to tick in his abandoned film. There would have been a shot like this, because these movies always have shots like this. The credits were going to have this kind of dark and suggestive footage, as they do. There would have been this kind of music, because of course there would. His narration is a wistful dichotomy: showing you how deeply he'd thought about the genre and the movie he wanted to make, while perhaps unaware of how cliche and uninventive a movie it would have been.

In a way, it's very clever. I'll certainly never be able to watch a crime documentary the same way. This is the sort of thing magicians fear should their secrets ever be revealed: once you know exactly how the trick is done, the amazement evaporates. I think this is what Shackleton is going for: holding up the mirror to the audience as if to demand, "Why do you even like this stuff? It's so formulaic!"

But I also found that to some extent, the movie might have been too clever for its own good. Is Shackleton holding up that mirror to us because he isn't quite willing to look in it himself? The only regret I sense in his narration is that he didn't actually get to make his movie. That's a totally reasonable reaction from an artist who poured his time and effort into something that will never be seen by anyone. But while he's "made lemons out of lemonade" with a meta film that basically asks why we like this garbage, he never seems to ask himself "why did I want to make this garbage?" I feel like the grade A version of this documentary would have demanded not only of the audience, "are you not entertained?" but would have explored a bit more why he himself was complicit.

Still, I do love a good peek behind the curtain of how things get made. And, evidently, how things don't get made. The Zodiac Killer Project may not have been that grade A experience I imagine it could have been, but I thought it was worth the time. I give it a B+. If it sounds interesting to you at all, I think it won't disappoint you.

Strange New Worlds: The Griffin Incident

While I was away at Gen Con, Star Trek: Strange New Worlds served up a new episode that I was hearing really polarized the audience. I was eager to get back and see for myself what the debate was all about... and I found out when I watched "The Griffin Incident."

Returning to Enterprise in a shuttlecraft, James T. Kirk, Spock, and La'An discover a derelict Federation ship, the Griffin, which has been missing for years. When they board the Griffin to investigate, they find a dark and haunted ship where unexplained phenomenon are increasingly common. When the trio is separated, each one is subjected to intense hallucinations -- or are they hallucinations? -- striking at the heart of their own self doubts.

Star Trek has always been a franchise that mixes other genres into science fiction for unique one-off episodes... though with modern Star Trek not generally being a place for "one-off" storytelling, Strange New Worlds is the only series that's really been able to play with this. Over the years, as Star Trek has served up comedies, romances, westerns, and more, it has given us the occasional horror-tinged episode. (Strange New Worlds itself already did one, in fact.)

But horror itself has subgenres of its own -- and some of those were previously out of reach for Star Trek, a show airing on prime time network television. "The Griffin Incident" is free of those restrictions, and so we get to find out what Star Trek can do when it brings in elements of body horror. That's the most "you like it or you don't" of all the horror sub-genres... hence the polarizing reaction to the episode that I heard about.

I found the episode to be a bit mixed, but generally positive overall. On a technical and production level, it felt nearly flawless. Director Axelle Carolyn showed a deep understanding of horror, giving us great jump scares, moments of creeping dread, and visceral chills and thrills. Yes, this was a money-saving episode, using existing sets and a minimal cast after the super-expensive season premiere. But it didn't feel cheap with the effective dark lighting, creepy viewscreen graphics, and pitch perfect camera work.

Smartly, the story was also very much about psychological horror. The dangers faced weren't general, but specifically directed at La'An, Spock, and Kirk. I thought that was the right approach, even if not all three of the stories were maximally effective. Spock's gave us the most intense horror moments, from creeping dread with body bags (even if Beverly Crusher did experience that decades ago) to unsettling mutilations (Spock's ears; Chef Pike). And yet, Spock's story was fundamentally about the internal turmoil of his Vulcan and human sides, very familiar territory that this series and the original have both mined before.

La'An's story comes at the right time for her character, seizing on her very current self-doubts and magnifying them in horrific ways. But in the end, you might argue that she doesn't really emerge changed or informed by her ordeal. Certainly, the audience doesn't learn anything new about what's up with her.

The most effective story (at least in my eyes) was the one for Kirk. Playing on his insecurities about his son David was a fun dive into previously unexplored territory for the character. We've known David (and his mother Carol) are out there somewhere; Strange New Worlds has even mentioned it before. But we've never really examined Kirk's feelings about it all, outside of the movie that introduced David. Horror movies have done a lot with creepy noises from children, and this episode draws on that tradition. Perhaps the most effective moment of all (or, at least, the solid shout-out for long-time Trek fans) came when Kirk's very specific fear about what might happen to David some day is said aloud; this does what good prequels do, backfilling events we know with new emotional context.

Besides the extent of the violence in this episode, one other polarizing element is surely the way it ends: without any scientific explanation or resolution for anything we've seen. It could actually have been ghosts, for all we know. I know that this is also very much tradition for a certain kind of horror movie, but I personally find it a less satisfying element to port into Star Trek. The ending fundamentally felt more like The X-Files than Star Trek to me.

But as I said, there's more "positive" in my mixed reaction than not. I give "The Griffin Incident" a B.  

Strange New Worlds: Valles Marineris

It appears that the modern incarnation of Star Trek -- a nearly decade-long run of overlapping television series of a variety the franchise has never known before -- is coming to an end soon, a victim of corporate consolidation and meddling. But there are still a few more filmed episodes of television working their way through post-production, and we're now getting some of them with the return of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds. It kicked off season four this past week with "Valles Marineris."

The Enterprise is critically damaged by an interstellar phenomenon, and transported to an unknown part of space. After a shuttle crew departs for a nearby planet to collect vital resources, the ship is captured by aliens. Pike must convince their militaristic leader of Starfleet's peaceful intentions. But once it becomes clear where Enterprise has really been taken, he must engage in a subterfuge that is sure to fuel the aliens' distrust.

It's kind of impossible to talk about this episode without getting into spoiler territory, so here's your warning to back out now if you haven't seen it. It's an episode that risks being almost goofy in taking on such a wild, big story -- that Enterprise has been taken to Earth 65 million years in the past, to a time of dinosaurs and interstellar Martians.

Frankly, the episode sometimes is a bit goofy. Number One stunning a T-Rex might be one of the wildest things Star Trek has ever presented... at least, until 15 minutes later when La'An straight up punches a velociraptor in the face. The not-terribly-veiled reference to Doctor Who made earlier in this episode feels right at home; it feels to me like just the sort of "not quite taking this seriously" sort of storytelling you get from that show.

Except... Strange New Worlds mostly does take this story seriously. Despite those Doctor Who-like trappings, the core story here is Star Trek through and through, an examination of the opposing ideas of cooperation and suspicion. And it all culminates in a classic science fiction paradox to tickle the brain. (Or... does it begin with one?!) Yeah, it's edging "almost silly" again to explain the barrenness of Mars, the extinction of the dinosaurs, and the existence of our solar system's asteroid belt all in one fell swoop. But the earnestness with which Strange New Worlds generally approaches it all pulls me along for the ride.

Along the way, there's effective and subtle acting from Anson Mount -- particularly opposite guest star Saffron Burrows. Ongoing threads of character building are woven into the self-contained story of the episode, as this series always does so well. And the production values feel just sky high. There was a time where a slow-motion horseback ride through a vast alien landscape would be the major centerpiece for an entire episode. Here, it's only an amuse-bouche before an episode that gives us a dangerous space cloud, a planet's destruction, and... did I mention the dinosaurs?

Strange New Worlds remains my easy favorite of the live action modern Star Trek series. I'm grinning ear to ear to be getting more of it. I give "Valles Marineris" a B+. 

The Stars Come Out

For All Mankind -- a show I absolutely raved about in its first and second seasons -- just came off its fifth and arguably weakest season. Less arguable: the alternate history show has been losing steam whenever it has drifted more into colonial allegory and away from space exploration. It feels like a show that really needs to get back to its roots for its upcoming final season.

Ironically, getting back to the show's roots is the elevator pitch for what's going on over on Star City. This spin-off series rewinds the clock to the first crewed moon landing of 1969 -- in this universe achieved by the Soviet Union, rather than the Americans. Star City also follows how the world unfolds differently under these alternate circumstances -- this time, from the Soviet perspective. But that simple description doesn't tell the full story of Star City. At least, not unless you immediately think very deeply about what "the Soviet perspective" might be.

Star City feels like a gritty Cold War thriller -- John le Carré by way of Dostoevsky. It's a show that zigs at almost every opportunity where For All Mankind zagged. Where the parent show filled in the space around outer space with family drama, the spin-off fills it with tense, paranoia-driven espionage. Where Mankind serves up a pristine digital picture, Star City is made to look like a grainy film print perhaps only recently dug up from some archive. Where Mankind fills out its cast of characters with civilians near the space program, Star City does so with the KGB operatives spying on their own people to keep everyone in line.

Nor is Star City content to simply retell major events of For All Mankind from a new point of view. Much of season one centers on previously unknown events in this alternate timeline. This deftly allows viewers to come onto this new show even if they haven't seen the first, and keeps fans of the original from knowing exactly where the new story is headed.

The acting is tightly restrained on this show, in keeping with the Cold War Soviet setting. Thus, it's harder to praise compared to many TV shows where the characters are showy and outwardly emotional. Still, there's solid work here from many performers. Rhys Ifans is the "chief designer" of the Soviet space program, and is no stranger to this sort of "palace intrigue" after House of the Dragon. Anna Maxwell Martin plays a delightfully detestable villain, the head of the KGB surveillance department within the space program. Two actors have the interesting challenge of playing characters we meet "later" in For All Mankind, Agnes O'Casey and Josef Davies; both give interesting hints of the performances of the other actors without being beholden to mere impersonation.

To be blunt, Star City didn't grab hold of me immediately, the way For All Mankind did. Still, I eventually found myself more deeply engaged than I have by the parent show since at least season three. By the very cliffhangery ending of the eight-episode season, I definitely wanted to see what comes next. (Sadly, no word yet on a season two.) I give Star City a B+, continuing the streak that almost every series I've ever watched on Apple TV+ is worth the time.

Here Comes Santa Fe

The morning of our day in Santa Fe began in the most unlikely of ways: we actually slept in. For hours! But we still fit plenty in once we got rolling. We started with breakfast at Cafe Catron, where we sampled a New Mexico staple: a burrito (breakfast, in this case) served "Christmas style" (smothered in both red and green chile). Pretty tasty. Locals may now jump in and name five other places they think serve a better breakfast burrito.

We decided to grab some coffee to walk around with, and the name of one spot in particular demanded our attention: CrashMurderBusiness. I was wondering what had inspired such a bizarre name, until the sign at the door made it all clear -- it was a play on fun-sounding "mass nouns," which extended to the menu and the "Race of Roadrunners" I ordered as my beverage. (It tasted like a chocolate bonbon with chili powder. Perhaps you sense a theme of New Mexico.)

We wandered the Railyard Artisan Market for a bit, partly for "nothing in particular" but particular for something very particular. From our trip to New Orleans a few years ago, our one lingering regret is that we didn't buy a pair of paintings that really caught our eye. Since then, on any trip that takes us near the possibility of picking up some art, we take a look. Nothing spoke to us in the same way this time -- not even with the added ease of driving it back home. But we'll always have Julia Street in New Orleans... and, until we find something, a nice reason to appreciate some local artists when we travel.

Art was also the theme of the next stop, the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. This multi-room gallery is dedicated to the famous artist who ultimately made New Mexico her home, and is filled with many of her paintings as well as the work of a few contemporaries, and one room of modern artists creating in response to her work.

Next, we walked the area around Santa Fe Plaza, a shopping district with a wide range of stores. We spent a few hours, first grabbing drinks at a pub called Desert Dogs (where we caught a bit of the World Cup final, including the eclectic halftime show), and ultimately picking up some clothes. I finally was able to find a hat I think works pretty well for me. (But sorry, I don't have a decent picture of me wearing it yet. Perhaps that'll come on some future trip.)

In the afternoon, we took a short trip out of the city to Nambé Falls. You wouldn't expect to find a 120-foot waterfall less than an hour outside Santa Fe, but there it is -- and with only a modest 1/4 mile hike to reach it from the trailhead. Unfortunately, we weren't prepared enough to also take the 1/4 mile hike through water to reach the base... but if you're going to be in the area and are interested, I'll throw that out there for you: take shoes you can take in the water.

By dinner time, we were back in Santa Fe and continuing the Mexican food theme: this time at a place called Tres Colores, where I took a shot at Mole Enchiladas (not a normal order for me by any stretch). It wasn't quite my thing, but I was glad for the vacation change of pace. And from what I gather, it was really good mole sauce, as evidenced by a conversation at a nearby patio table between a patron raving about it and one of the restaurant owners proudly explaining it was a family recipe.

We finished the evening with a pair of stops for after dinner drinks. First was Santa Fe Spirits, a distillery where we picked up a bottle of whiskey to tap into later for trip memories; then finally Nuckoll's Brewery, a place with a large balcony overlooking the depot where the train we'd ridden the night before pulled in after another sunset trip.

We talked about a possible morning detour to Bandelier National Monument the next day... but pretty much already knew we weren't going to do that. In the morning, we tried one more breakfast burrito stop (Tortilla Flats this time), that one more stop pretty much ending my desire to have Mexican food for the next week or two. (Nothing against that place. When in Rome... stuff your face with the local cuisine. That's pretty much how that saying goes, right?) Anyway, after a satisfying few days that we'd found very relaxing, we decided against another hike before immediately jumping in the car for a six-hour drive home.

It was a lovely little getaway to get the batteries charged ahead of Gen Con. (I know this blog has become rather intermittent anyway, but don't expect any posts for most of next week.) Colorado's neighbor to the south is a nice place to visit.

New Mexico, New Outlook

Next week is Gen Con, billed as "the best four days in gaming," but for me and many others is also a "big week at the office." To help reset and mentally prepare, my husband and I took a long weekend to road trip down to New Mexico -- which, blessedly, was actually 10 to 15 degrees cooler than the Denver area right now.

After sleeping in the best we could (how better to start a long weekend), we set out on the drive. We stopped for lunch at Brues Alehouse along the waterfront in Pueblo, but from there it was south on down to Albuquerque. Our late start and a late afternoon delay meant there wasn't much time for activity that first evening. Still, we had the first of many Mexican meals at High Noon. Well... this meal was a bit "opt in," actually, as they're also known for their steaks. But I quite enjoyed my shrimp enchiladas.

After dinner, we enjoyed drinks at a bar along a stretch of what was once the historic Route 66 -- though that factoid was not the reason we picked it. A few years ago, we were briefly caught up in the whirlwind of a Netflix reality show called Drink Masters. A dozen different bartenders competed over several episodes in a cocktail making competition. We found it engaging, despite having the same central shortcoming that all the foodie reality shows have: you can’t taste anything being judged. But one of the show's contestants, Kate Gerwin, opened up this bar in Albuquerque. And while maybe you couldn't taste exactly what was made on the show, you could sample what she makes when not under time pressure and forced into bizarre restrictions.

You could also get a thrown martini -- not shaken, not stirred -- something I hadn't even heard of before this. Had to order one. Thrown, it turns out, is what you imagine a mad scientist doing to mix a concoction, showily pouring it back and forth between two containers. Martinis aren't my thing, so I certainly can't tell you if it makes a difference. But it's certainly a fun presentational thing for a bar to do.

The next morning, we stopped at Golden Crown Panderia to grab some empanadas on our way out of town. (The place has a 24/7 vending machine for pastries out front... but being there during business hours, we didn't need to use it.) Then it was west on I-40 for a stretch until we reached the Ice Cave and Bandera Volcano. We'd heard about the place from a friend, and decided we had to check it out for ourselves. Over a roughly 1.5 mile hike, you climb to the edge of a volcano crater, and along the path where flowing lava cut a trench several thousands of years ago.

Then a bit later on, you head down nearly 100 steps where you feel the temperature drop about 5 degrees with every 10 steps. At the bottom, you reach a cave where the temperature never rises about 31 degrees Fahrenheit, where dripping water has collected over the ages into a sheet of algae-covered ice. Like I mentioned earlier, New Mexico isn't as hot as Denver right now... yet it was still wild to descend from a warm summer morning into a frigid cave in barely a minute.

It's a fair drive out to the Ice Cave and Bandera Volcano (but worth it), and we were actually headed to Santa Fe for the evening. Still, we had time for a few stops, including La Cumbre Brewing Company. Some of you may recall the craft brewery map I picked up about a decade ago, where I mark places we've visited with pins. The craft beer industry has been going through quite the contraction since the map was new, and many of the places it shows don't exist anymore. But the possible quest to put a "gold pin" in every state continues with this stop (which had a great Mexican-style beer made with blue corn).

Our evening concluded with a "sunset serenade" excursion on the Sky Railway. Operating on a section of railroad track dating back to the earliest days of rail in the area, this tourist train takes you out to a picturesque spot in the desert to watch a truly beautiful sunset. The "serenade" part was a local Albuquerque musician who set up in the car and performed on his guitar on the two-hour round-trip journey.

Our long weekend still had one more full day ahead, which I'll recount later this week. 

Enterprise Flashback: Divergence

When last we left Enterprise, the ship was locked at warp speed and careening toward destruction. Time to resolve that cliffhanger with "Divergence."

Trip returns from Columbia to avert a catastrophe aboard Enterprise, putting both ships in the line of fire on the hunt to rescue Phlox. Trip is forced to confront his unresolved feelings for T'Pol, and Reed is forced to come clean with Captain Archer about the secretive organization sending him covert orders. Meanwhile, Phlox is driven to ever more extreme measures to cure a Klingon contagion.

Star Trek was making two-part episodes since the original series, but the fact that Enterprise had served up so many three-part episodes in season four makes this return to two-part form actually feel like a breaking of convention. Where the three-part format had allowed for unexpected twists in a story (such as introducing the Aenar) there's really no room here but to catch all the many balls already being juggled from part one. I'd say it does catch them all, even if the performance doesn't end with any grand flourish.

I'm still gobsmacked that the writers decided to explain the changing appearance of Klingons on-screen. You could certainly argue that this exactly the kind of subtext that should never be made text. (Will someone now have to retcon everything to explain the third look for Klingons introduced in Star Trek: Discovery?) But having made the decision to do so, they do mine the story for good drama. It's interesting to see Phlox's particular sense of medical ethics (already not entirely that of humans) clash with the Klingons he's forced to work with. For long time Trekkers, it's perhaps even more interesting to probe the mind of a Klingon bioengineer: what even makes him tick? (An intriguing back story of guilt.)

In talking about part one, I appreciated the writers' belated effort to rehabilitate the character of Malcolm Reed by making him a secret operative for Section 31. I still generally think that's true... though the only real way to resolve that story in a part two is to have Reed gain the upper hand on his superiors. That's hard to square with the hapless character we've known for three-and-a-half seasons. For Deep Space Nine fans in particular, it's hard to downgrade from the "always three moves ahead" machinations of the operative Sloan to the sad ineptitude of this Harris guy. He gets bested by Reed, double-crossed by the Klingons, and generally comes off like the guy who almost let Section 31 end on his watch.

I still find the "will they / won't they" story line for Trip and T'Pol to be the least compelling aspect of the narrative. But fortunately, it isn't given much time here. Instead, Trip stays aboard Enterprise "temporarily" at the end of the episode, kicking the can down the road.

That leaves plenty of time -- mostly at the beginning and end of the episode -- for the sorts of action sequences that are core to Star Trek: Enterprise. The wild "Speed"-like premise that the Enterprise can't slow down does kick things off with a wild sequence of Trip spacewalking his way between the ships. The CG isn't always great, but the thrills still generally land. And the climactic rescue of Phlox is a fun 3-on-2 fight between Starfleet and Klingons.

Other observations:

• When Phlox beams a virus aboard the Klingon ship to threaten them by withholding the cure... how did he get through the Klingon shields? 

• There's fun makeup at the end of the episode, between Archer's subtle Klingon ridges and Antaak's transformation into a classic-style "human-looking Klingon."

Part twos on Star Trek are rarely as good as part ones, and "Divergence" is no exception. Still, it's hardly a letdown, and does a pretty good job of resolving all its story threads. I give it a B.

Sheep Thrills

Between Kenneth Branagh donning the Poirot mustache and Daniel Craig solving crimes in the Knives Out movies, you might say that the whodunit is having a bit of a resurgence at the movies. That might have opened the door wide enough for something as unusual as The Sheep Detectives to slip in.

Shepherd George Hardy reads murder mysteries to his flock every night. When he turns up dead, the sheep try to apply all they've learned from books to solve the case. But they'll have to overcome their inherent limitations as, well... sheep. And they'll have to find a way to share what they know with the town's only police officer.

As strange as that description may sound, it only grows more strange as you drill down. Based on a novel by Leonie Swann, this film's script was written by Craig Mazin -- most known for his work on Chernobyl and The Last of Us. Mazin tried for almost a decade to get the movie made, failing perhaps because of how diametrically opposed in tone it was from his most successful work, or maybe because the cyclical genre infatuation of Hollywood hadn't circled back around to mysteries yet.

Eventually, though, he paired up with animation director Kyle Balda (who did numerous films for Illumination), and the movie became a reality -- with one hell of a cast. Appearing on screen, there's Hugh Jackson as the shepherd, Nicholas Braun as the hapless cop, Emma Thompson as a quirky lawyer, and numerous other recognizable faces to round out the pool of suspects.

The voice cast for the titular sheep detectives is even more stacked -- including Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Bryan Cranston, Chris O'Dowd, Regina Hall, Patrick Stewart, Bella Ramsey, and Brett Goldstein. Looking at that list, you might pick up that it's a group of actors who have shined both in comedy and drama. And that's kind of the special sauce that makes the movie work. The Sheep Detectives rarely lets you forget how deeply silly the premise is -- but at the same time, it's an absolutely played-straight murder mystery. And in its most successful moments, it gets surprisingly sentimental.

I can't claim that the movie perfectly runs the gauntlet of all these tones. Indeed, I'm not sure that Craig Mazin and Kyle Balda are actually the best writer/director pairing; I get the impression that Mazin was going for a deeply earnest movie that just happens to star sheep, while Balda may have been going for something a zany Minions movie that just happens to be live action. But there is an effective core to it all (perhaps coming from the original novel), that's definitely elevated by the actors. 

The Sheep Detectives surely won't end up being one of the best movies I see this year, but it certainly felt like a sweet and enjoyable dessert I'm glad I sampled. I give it a B.

Make a Constitution Roll

Many news headlines yesterday triumphantly reported the Supreme Court ruling in the case "Trump v. Barbara," upholding the law that people born in the United States are to be treated as U.S. citizens. In the rush to report this as a "loss for Trump" or a "win for the rule of law," most headlines completely overlook a chilling reality -- this actually was a close decision, and should not have been.

Four of nine Justices ruled (in dissent) that the first sentence of the Fourteenth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution doesn't actually say what it says. It's not a complicated sentence full of legalese. It says:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. 

Actually, most of the Constitution is pretty clear in this way, if you've ever made the time to read it. But admittedly, some of it is less so. And with all of that in mind, I'm here to recommend a book -- The U.S. Constitution: A Comprehensive and Annotated Guide for the Modern Reader. (Yes, for some reason, the cover title doesn't exactly match the listed title.)

This book was written by Melissa Murray, law professor and co-host of the podcast Strict Scrutiny. And the book is like getting the chance to sit in on one of her classes. Actually, it's better than that, because the book is very much crafted for the layperson... which, as Murray enthusiastically presents, is exactly who that founding document was intended for.

After a brief introduction, the book presents the Constitution in whole... but then the titular "Guide" begins. Murray goes through the document article by article, amendment by amendment, sometimes even clause by clause, explaining exactly what's going on. At each step, she discusses the history: what was going on at the time that sparked this particular element of the Constitution, and how it was debated at the time. She then walks you through key Supreme Court rulings since, and how they shifted, crystallized, or redefined the meaning over time. In instances where a provision in the document is the subject of modern debate, she details the positions in that debate.

On the podcast Strict Scrutiny, Melissa Murray is a progressive voice whom I happen to agree with a great deal. But on this occasion, I actually appreciate even more that she has set aside any ideological stance (no matter how moral I may find it). This book is methodically even at every turn; it's not dispassionate by any means, very much reflecting the concerns of the Constitution's framers over the decades. But it is a book I think you could give to your "crazy relative on the other side of the aisle" without triggering any alarm bells about propaganda.

If you read this book for yourself, you will come away with a better understanding of the U.S. Constitution -- even if you actually have read the document for yourself (as so many politicians claim to have done, sometimes by pulling out the prop version they carry in their pocket). The Constitution is, most famously, a document of, for, and by the People. But for it to fully fulfill that promise, the People have to know what it says.

Melissa Murray has done her part to help with that. The book may be called The U.S. Constitution: A Comprehensive and Annotated Guide for the Modern Reader -- but another descriptor that might have gone in there is "essential." I give the book an A, and an enthusiastic recommendation.

(Maybe a few clowns on the Supreme Court should pick up a copy.) 

Less Than Super, But Good Enough

This weekend, I went to go see the new movie Supergirl -- bracing for, what most of the advance buzz had warned me -- was going to be a disastrously bad experience. The low expectations likely improved the experience.

This movie follows the interstellar adventures of Kara Zor-El, on an extended binge-drinking holiday from Earth to dull the powerful feelings stirring inside her. She can no longer escape responsibility when a young orphan seeks her help on a sole-destroying quest for vengeance... just as she also has 72 hours to save her dog. Now she has two lives to save.

There are some fair criticisms you could level against this movie. It's almost aggressively unoriginal. That it follows the all-but-mandated "refuse the call / answer the call" story structure for superhero stories is barely worth commenting on. That its action scenes and character beats come from the bag of tropes is perhaps a bit more disappointing -- particularly if you're a fan of The Avengers, Executive Decision, the Mad Max franchise, or any other place you've scene this stuff before. I personally was hoping a story beyond "John Wick meets Guardians of the Galaxy," and definitely didn't get it.

But the thing is, none of these homages (or rip-offs, depending on your own level of charity) is done badly here. There's a wide gulf between actively bad and "just not inspiring and new." To me, Supergirl lands (a flashy, three-point superhero landing) pretty squarely in the latter camp. It's fun, it's brash, it gets the job the done.

And in a few performances, the movie does rise above being just paint-by-numbers. Jason Momoa (in KISS makeup) sure is fun in the scenery-chewing role of Lobo. In his cameo moments, David Corenswet is still giving the most earnest performance as Superman since Christopher Reeve. And Milly Alcock really does carry this movie capably on her shoulders in the title role. She very much makes the movie.

That this "not great, but not bad" movie seemed to receive such vitriol in advance? The kind excuse would be that everyone has forgotten too quickly just how bad most DC movies were until recently. The less kind (more likely?) excuse is that this is a loud dude-bro reaction to a superhero movie starring a woman. (Especially sad, when she's basically the best thing about it.)

I give Supergirl a B-. This is pretty much what I expect if I decide to go check out a summer blockbuster in a movie theater these days. I hope it will be better than this. But if all I get is basically this? That was pretty much the contract.

Enterprise Flashback: Affliction

The fourth season of Star Trek: Enterprise was made up mostly of multi-episode story arcs that leveraged the series' prequel nature by delving into the vast "canon" of the franchise. Creatively, it was a successful pivot for the show... so the writers took on the highest "degree of difficulty" yet in the two-parter beginning with "Affliction."

The Klingons have been experimenting with genetic engineering, using samples of human Augment DNA... with disastrous consequences. Desperate to undo the damage, Klingon agents abduct Phlox to force his assistance. Enterprise sets out to locate and rescue their doctor. Yet it appears that Malcolm Reed may be secretly working against them for unknown reasons. Meanwhile, Trip tries to fit in at his new assignment aboard the starship Columbia.

I think you'd have to be the most "well, actually..." of Star Trek fans to have ever cared why Klingons went from looking like shoe-polish-faced humans in spandex and disco pants (on the original series) to turtle-ridged, armor-clad warriors (in the movies and beyond). The movies simply had more time and money to throw at the aliens, and The Next Generation (and the shows that followed) were passed the baton. The closest we'd ever get to an "in-universe" explanation for the change was a curt joke from Worf in the middle of a comedic episode.

Right?

Wrong! Manny Coto and Michael Sussman decided to devote a two-part episode to explaining the difference. And the explanation -- that Klingons once toyed with genetic engineering, using human DNA -- kinda works! It even goes a long way to explaining why Klingons hated humans for so long, while subtly reinforcing one Klingon commander's assertion that humans and Klingons aren't really so different. We get all of this, the most dangerous looking targ yet seen on Star Trek, Klingon characters played by actors John Schuck and James Avery, fun references to deep cut history like the Hur'q (established in Deep Space Nine), and a fantastic action sequence about an assault team boarding Enterprise. Really... hats off all around.

But we're just getting started! In this same two-part episode, the writers undertake the task of "fixing" the show's indisputably worst character, Malcolm Reed. Unlike Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather, who are generally just underused, Reed has been actively bad almost every time he's given something to do in an episode -- bad at his job, ranging from socially awkward at best to creepy at worst, whiny and self-centered. Now we find out, he's actually an undercover secret agent! And once you get over the initial shock of wondering what value a covert organization would find in Malcolm Reed, it kind of starts to make sense. Hell, it might even explain some of Reed's buffoonery over the years. Was this part of maintaining his cover? Were some of his stupid mistakes actually deliberate orders from his shadowy organization?

In a bit of catnip for Deep Space Nine fans like me, the secret organization is revealed to be Section 31. Well... it's never stated outright, which is good. That avoids turning this into a Marvel Cinematic Universe style demand to "do the required viewing" before being able to understand the story here. This is just a winking nod for those who know, that feels like it should be pretty seamless for those who don't. It's certainly a better showing for Section 31 than poor Michelle Yeoh was given.

I'd call all of that more than enough for a super-compelling two-part episode of Star Trek. Unfortunately, the episode doesn't stop there. It also has to reckon with the ongoing story coming out of the last episode, that Trip has changed assignments and is now aboard the Columbia. As I commented on that episode, I've reached the end of my interest in the "Jim and Pam on The Office"-like tribulations between T'Pol and Trip. I felt impatient in each of this episode's repetitive Trip scenes. (T'Pol: "Are you leaving because of me?" Trip's new captain: "Why did you leave?" T'Pol in some mindmeld/dreamscape: "I thought you were leaving.") I feel like the most interesting thing this subplot has to offer is a return cameo appearance by Seth MacFarlane -- who gets quite a few more lines here.

It all builds to the most explicit cliffhanger Enterprise has served up in a while, a Speed-like contrivance of a catastrophe in which the Enterprise must maintain high warp or it will explode. Will Keanu Reeves show up to save the day? Probably not... but tune in next week just in case!

Other observations:

• This isn't really a "Hoshi" episode, but she nonetheless has some good moments in the story. First, she does her best to put up a fight when she and Phlox are attacked in the beginning. Then she "goes under hypnosis" (mindmeld style) with T'Pol to retrieve her memories of the event. In the aftermath of that mindmeld, she even pokes up in the Trip/T'Pol story for a moment.

• The redress of the Enterprise bridge to serve as the Columbia bridge is kinda fun. It doesn't really make sense to put these weird columns right where people need to walk (what, are they load-bearing?) but you can instantly tell you're on a different ship.

• I think my picture at the top of this post actually comes from "part two" of this two-parter. But it felt appropriately representative. 

The high-school-romance-drama of Trip/T'Pol detracts for me, but I otherwise find this a really strong episode that does "prequel" right. I give "Affliction" a B+.