Star Trek Flashback: Court Martial

When the original Star Trek went back to "save" its original pilot episode by turning it into a two-part episode, a courtroom drama plot was added. Though the trial against Spock barely resembled any authentic legal procedure, it was an effective device to splice in footage from that first episode. But it also stole the claim to being Star Trek's first "courtroom episode," a distinction that otherwise should have (more rightfully) gone to "Court Martial."

When a crewmember dies aboard the Enterprise, Captain Kirk's account of what happened is contradicted by the ship's recordings. A trial ensues, where Kirk is prosecuted by an old flame, defended by an brilliant eccentric, and unaware of the surprising truth of what happened.

The legal drama is one of the most enduring narratives of film and television -- and so its only natural for other TV shows, looking for a break from formula, to turn to it for an episode. The tradition has run for decades, and as such has changed along with the storytelling techniques of the time. What I'm getting at is: today, most legal shows try to be quite realistic in their depiction of courtroom procedure. Once upon a time, shows like Perry Mason ruled the day, staging a gestalt of a trial that didn't care as much for accuracy.

"Court Martial" falls between those moments in time, and expectedly falls somewhere in the middle on the spectrum of realism. In many ways, the episode holds up after 60 years as a compelling bit of drama. It makes a meal out of evidence, fierce cross-examination, and objections. The conceit of Kirk's legal opposition being an old romantic interest was a compelling enough idea for The Next Generation to borrow it for one of its own foundational legal episodes. And some story elements resonate even more now than they did when the episode was new: the "man against machine" nature of Kirk's defense, along with the "deep faked" video used against him, evokes thoughts of one of modern day's hottest topics, AI.

At other times, you have to remind yourself that you should not look to a 1960s TV show, set in an imagined future, for any sort of realistic legal procedure. When the prosecuting attorney gets to testify directly to the court? The defense decides to skip half the prosecution's case? The trial is re-opened after both sides have rested? The defense attorney just starts monologuing about historical documents? We're in Perry Mason territory now. But is it entertaining? You bet!

The idea that Cogley rejects digitized books seems wild, but perfectly highlights the thematic spine of the story. When the daughter of Kirk's alleged victim rants hysterically at him, it's melodramatic, yet it kind of works. When a commodore tries to coerce Kirk into accepting a desk job to avoid a trial, it feels all too realistic. It's great to see Kirk fiercely defended by the characters we've come to know, and hear (some of) his many accolades. Spock using chess to figure out the computer has been manipulated is fun. The dramatic way in which the dead crewman Finney is revealed to be alive is a hoot.

And sure, there are some elements that don't work as well. The wild array of ages in Kirk's supposed graduating class is a stain on the casting department's figurative shirt. The slinky version of the Star Trek theme that plays when Kirk's old flame Shaw walks in is cringe. Everyone's incredulous reaction to the video is wild when we've been told all along what it would show. The whiplash turnaround of Finney's daughter, from enraged at Kirk to supporting him, is presented without justification. Kirk being allowed to go alone to confront the man people thought he murdered is just wild.

There are also hints throughout that maybe this script was written by someone who's heard of Star Trek but maybe hasn't actually seen an episode before. Spock is a "Vulcanian." A microphone is presented as though it's some unrecognizable futuristic prop. Kirk narrates like a private detective, without making an actual log entry.

Other observations:

• The remastered version of this episode might be the first to show us multiple Constitution-class ships, and also shows us the hole in the Enterprise hull undergoing repairs. 

• Shaw's big stained-glass earrings cast crazy light patterns on her face under the bright studio lights of the time. 

• The big showdown between Kirk and Finney features classic Star Trek fight choreography -- complete with obvious stunt doubles, a ripped uniform, and a comically large wrench.

I give "Court Martial" a B. It may quietly be one of the stronger episodes of Star Trek's first season. It's certainly one of the more fun ones, without trying to be comedic.

Enterprise Flashback: Daedalus

Not every episode in the final season of Star Trek: Enterprise was part of some multi-part story arc. Still, the season was nearly half over when it did finally reach its first stand-alone episode, "Daedalus."

Emory Erickson, inventor of the transporter and family friend of the Archers, comes aboard Enterprise to conduct an experiment with his daughter Danica. But as Trip slowly gets over his hero worship of the man, he begins to suspect that Erickson is hiding something. Is it something that threatens the ship?

I've already noted that the push toward multi-episode "mini arcs" in season four was fertile ground for the series. It let the writers really explore being a prequel to Star Trek, and gave space to balance character with story more effectively. This stand-alone episode highlights that growth by being far less effective.

Like many early episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, this episode has the problem of being too much about its guest star. This story is driven entirely by Erickson's secret mission (which I'm spoiling here): to rescue his son from a fate worse than death. It's a rather similar premise to the early Star Trek: Voyager episode "Jetrel," though that episode had an important role in the story for regular character Neelix.

What do the regular characters do here? Not much, really. Archer is said to be a family friend of the Ericksons, which gives Scott Bakula more scenes without actually making him very important to the story. Trip is around a lot, but he really is written in the story as an antagonist, an obstacle to keep the central character, Erickson, from getting what he wants. All the emotions are Emory and Danica's, as they grieve for a family member who isn't truly dead. And none of the other series regulars interact with them much at all. The guest stars are at least solid, particularly Bill Cobbs as Emory, a real "that guy" actor you've probably seen on other shows. I do feel for the Ericksons; I just wish any of the regular characters seemed to. 

There are some interesting elements at the margins. There's fun talk about transporters that mimics actual fan discussions. ("Is the person who transports the same, or a copy of the original who has been destroyed?") It's not central to the plot that Emory uses a wheelchair, but it's a nice bit of inclusion that he does. There's fun production work, including interesting original series-style camera angles, and a power outage sequence with great haunted house vibes. And there are nods to continuity, as when T'Pol reveals she is reading the recently discovered Kir'Shara.

Other observations:

• But one bit of continuity that isn't acknowledged: at one point, Emory says that Trip should reserve judgement until he has lost a son. In a weird sci-fi way, he has.

• Emory is so sure that Starfleet wouldn't have authorized this mission if Emory had revealed his real intentions. Would they not? There's a person out there suffering a horrific living death, and the inventor of the transporter would like to borrow a ship for a week to attempt a rescue. Why not?

• The fact that the original transporter took a minute-and-a-half to work is an effectively macabre detail.

• T'Pol's spiritual journey is such a side note in this episode, but it does give us another moment of John Billingsley crushing one of his maybe five lines in an episode -- when Phlox notes that most people never re-examine their core beliefs.

It must have been appealing to the writers to tell a story about the inventor of the transporter, a rare corner of Star Trek lore that had essentially no details fleshed out. But the story doesn't really come together. I give "Daedalus" a C+.

Star Trek Flashback: Tomorrow Is Yesterday

In a weird coda at the end of the episode "The Naked Time," Star Trek established that the Enterprise could travel through time (whether the the story warranted it or not). The show delivered on that promise in the episode "Tomorrow Is Yesterday."

The Enterprise is accidentally thrown back in time to Earth in the late 1960s. In short order, they're taken to be a UFO, and unintentionally destroy an Air Force plane and abduct its pilot. Now the crew must repair their ship, erase the evidence of their presence, find a way to return the pilot and restore the course of history, and return to their own time.

There are quite a few episodes of the original Star Trek that make you think: "oh, they totally ripped this one off later for The Next Generation." This episode is one such touchstone for later Star Trek. But not for the early seasons of a still-finding its way Next Gen; rather, for Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. That movie isn't without its own new elements: a threatened Earth, an environmentalist message, and of course, the whales. But consider everything else.

In both Star Trek IV and "Tomorrow Is Yesterday," our heroes find them transported back in time to the real-world present. They soon encounter a contemporary human who takes quite well to interactions with people from the future. They have to sneak around a military installation. And all of it is done with a decidedly comedic tone. (20th century pilot John Christopher: "I never have believed in little green men." Spock: "Neither have I.")

Star Trek IV has a lot more polish. And "Tomorrow Is Yesterday" has working against it the fact it was made for 1960s television, a time and place where the humor is intentionally crafted with "dopey slide whistle" sensibilities. Is it funny when an Air Force security guard just freezes when he materializes on the transporter pad? When a freshly upgraded Enterprise computer flirts with Captain Kirk? Well, no, not really. But then, this style of comedy has aged more poorly than even the 60-year-old sets have. (Notice all the wrinkles on the screens on the Enterprise bridge.)

But still, there's plenty here that does work well. It's an entertainingly breathless episode, where one problem keeps piling on after another. Most of the characters get good moments: Scotty points out that even once he's repaired the ship, they have nowhere to go; McCoy has a great reaction when Kirk compares him to Spock (that's comedy that does work); Sulu beams down to the Air Force base with Kirk (not sure why it's those two, but whatever). And with the character of John Christopher, the episode handles well that not all people from the past are stupid... but that our heroes will always, eventually, get the upper hand. Plus, I love that in this episode, made in 1967, the writers took their shot, declared that humans would land on the moon by the end of the 1960s, and were proven right.

How the episode gets out of these stacked-up problems feels like nonsense. After conveniently inching back in time again before shooting forward again, the transporter serves as a hand-waving solution to it all (not for the first time; certainly not for the last). It's not clear what's happening when someone is "beamed into themselves." (Is this like overwriting a computer file? Is one person being destroyed and swapped for another?) And I don't understand how that causes time to reset itself midstream. But I guess the sillier tone of the episode allows for sillier solutions.

Other observations:

• The footage of scrambling Air Force jets didn't match the rest of the episode even in 1967. But when they came along and updated all the Enterprise effects shots in the 2000s re-master, it made the grainy stock footage stick out even more.  

• Gotta get that slinky trombone music in when John Christopher spots a female crewmember on the Enterprise.

• On the Air Force base, the photo lab has a silent alarm on the door, but the computer records office doesn't. I'm sure it's just for writing convenience, but it's fun to pretend this is a sign of the times (and a reflection on the value of computers).

• Are the clocks on the Enterprise tied to some outside, observable force in the universe? Or did Spock program them to count backwards when the ship is moving backwards in time?

In a world where Star Trek IV didn't exist, "Tomorrow Is Yesterday" might hit a bit better for me. Then again, I imagine that 1980s humor misses with a younger audience in much the same way this 1960s humor misses for me here. But it's still a fun enough episode. I give it a B-.

Enterprise Flashback: Kir'Shara

Another epic three-part Enterprise story arc comes to a close with "Kir'Shara."

Possessed by the spirit of Surak, Archer leads the Vulcan resistance in search of an ancient artifact that could change all Vulcan society. But the planet's leader V'Las is determined to stop them at any cost. Meanwhile, Trip and Soval seek help from the Andorians, and a particularly skeptical Shran.

At a high level, I have similar criticisms about this concluding part three that I had with part two of the trilogy. V'Las grows ever more villainous, to a degree that seems increasingly hard to believe. (You have to wonder if there's any Vulcan version of the 25th amendment, and what the political landscape is like that people as logical as the Vulcans wouldn't use it.) It's never made clear why Archer was chosen by Surak, and things only get more MacGuffiny in the hunt for an artifact whose revelation will magically resolve everything... somehow.

But you either went along with this stuff back in part two or not. And once again, the more personal aspects of the story elevate the storytelling. You can always count on Jeffrey Combs to bring his A game, and it's great to see two long-running guest stars get big scenes together, as he does with with Gary Graham when Shran tortures Soval. It's not the only noble moment for Soval either; he also demonstrates respect for Archer when he tells Trip that he's doing just what the "cap'n" would do, and that it's the right thing.

Archer is experiencing growth too, as he confesses that his experience with Surak has led him to understand why Vulcans suppress their emotions. He's able to walk T'Pol through a minefield of emotions about her mother in a way that she's able to hear. For her part, T'Pol comes to embrace the cause of the Vulcan rebels, and risks her life to aid them.

One element I don't love is how the episode picks up on the story line of the Vulcan stigma about mindmelds. That began as a Star Trek allegory for HIV, and while the storytellers mishandled some of the details, it felt like their hearts were in the right place. But here, we learn that skilled mindmelders can actually cure "Pa'nar syndrome" -- HIV and AIDS. It's quite the rapid wave of quite the magic wand, a simplistic way of backing away from the story line.

It's almost as quick as the dissolution of T'Pol's marriage. I suppose we were told quite directly that she only agreed to marry because of her mother's situation. Still, it seems surprising when a plot complication introduced only a few episodes ago is so unceremoniously resolved. I guess this is the easy Vulcan conflict resolution that I've been feeling the absence of in this trilogy's A story.

Other observations:

• Two decades before a memorable turn on Star Trek: Picard, Todd Stashwick appears here as Vulcan security stooge.

• ...who is revealed in the final scene of the episode to be a Romulan operative! This plays well for longtime Star Trek fans who have watched other series in the franchise, but it doesn't amount to much in the context of Enterprise alone. It makes V'Las, who already seemed irrational, appear weak as well for being so thoroughly manipulated.

Despite a few missteps, "Kir'Shara" is a fun ride. We get fist fights, neck pinches, and lirpas. We get epic space battles. And many of the characters get a chance to do some truly heroic things. So overall, I'll give this episode a B. 

Throw Yourself Into the Pitt

Back in early 2025, there seemed to be no corner of the internet where I wasn't hearing about this amazing new medical drama, The Pitt. Several of my friends joined the steady drumbeat: you have to watch The Pitt! But I had enough of a TV backlog then that I never got around to it. When the season finale ran that April? By May or so, everyone had moved on to something else.

But then 2026 arrived, and The Pitt turned out not to be one of those modern shows that needs like two or three years to produce a season of television. The Pitt was back, and with it that choir loudly singing the praises of the show. This time around, I couldn't resist.

And now? Pass me the hymnal, because I'm joining that choir.

Set in a Pittsburgh hospital that trains new doctors, each season of The Pitt follows one shift on one day at the emergency room. It's not quite operating by the rules of the show 24, with events occurring in real time... but each hour of television is one hour of show time, and story elements continue from episode to episode.

That one hour of television is somehow the shortest one hour on television. Each episode of The Pitt unfurls at breakneck pace, juggling multiple medical crises and mysteries with apparent ease. And the real triumph of the writing is that it also finds time to honor the human element: you very quickly come to care about the hospital workers in the main and supporting cast, and each new case that comes their way features patients and their families who are memorable, often sympathetic, real people in an extraordinary situation.

It's challenging to praise the cast, because it's so large and there really isn't a weak link in the bunch. I'll focus on a few to avoid droning on. Noah Wyle anchors the gang as Dr. "Robby," a wonderful blend of competency and humanity. Absolutely everyone who watches the show is going to instantly fall in love with Katherine LaNasa as charge nurse Dana Evans, conductor of this triage symphony. I quickly gravitated toward poor, put-upon Dr. Whitaker, played through all manner of tough situations by Gerran Howell. I appreciated the work of Isa Briones as the prickly Dr. Santos, who I think ably serves up a character with many unlikable traits without actually making the character wholly unlikable. And sling the "nepo baby" accusations all you want at Fiona Dourif (daughter of Brad Dourif) and Taylor Dearden (daughter of Bryan Cranston) -- it doesn't change the fact that they're both excellent in their respective roles of Drs, McKay and King.

Season 1 of The Pitt was a whirlwind ride that built to a frenetic crescendo in its final few episodes. Season 2 wisely took a different path, using its final episodes to dig into the humanity in the main characters. Both approaches worked, and I found both seasons to be top-notch, grade A material. (If I must pick, I'll give the nod to season 1.)

Yes, The Pitt is as good as I'm sure you've heard. It has created a TV backlog of its own for me; I've been so eager to devour it that many other shows have just been piling up. Had I watched the first season last year, I would have put in in the #3 slot of my "Top 10 of 2025" List (ahead of Slow Horses, behind Pluribus). If somehow you've missed it? You've likely got until next January to catch up in time for season 3.

Star Trek Flashback: Arena

Certain episodes of classic Star Trek loom large with the fans. Then there are the rare few that broke out even wider in pop culture. One of those is "Arena."

The Enterprise arrives at a colony to find it wiped out by an alien threat that's still in the area. After a skirmish on the planet, an interstellar chase begins. But that's interrupted when a super-powerful third party steps in to resolve their distastefully violent dispute. Captain Kirk and the reptilian Gorn captain of the enemy ship are transported to an alien landscape to battle it out one-on-one. Kirk seems hopelessly outmatched, unless he can apply reason to his situation... or find empathy for his foe.

There are people who have never watched a full episode of Star Trek who nevertheless know two things about this episode. The first is its location filming at Vasquez Rocks. While numerous episodes of Star Trek and other TV shows have filmed at this picturesque spot less than an hour from Los Angeles, the iconic rock formation featured in this episode has become indelibly linked with Star Trek. (Seriously: "Star Trek Historic Film Site" is a searchable map location.)

The second thing people know about this episode is that Kirk fights a giant lizard. This is a more ignominious claim to fame, thanks to the less than convincing rubber suit. The 2000s remaster of this episode tries to help a little with CG eyelids that blink, but there's no hiding the fact that this suit clearly couldn't move well. And it probably still cost a fortune. So we get a series of fights in which a suited stuntman can't move too fast for fear of hurting William Shatner (who he cannot see), and William Shatner can't dare to play rough for fear of damaging the lizard suit (which cost too much to put at risk). There's no other way to put it: these fights look silly. (So silly, that it was only natural to poke fun at them later.)

It's a shame the cheap looking suit hogs the spotlight, because so much else about this episode seems so expensive. There's extensive location filming -- not just for the titular arena where Kirk and the Gorn fight, but in a lengthy opening sequence where a landing party at the destroyed colony is bombed by an unseen foe. And it had better look good; William Shatner did some of his own stunts in this episode, and famously was so near an explosion when it detonated that he developed tinnitus that he's lived with ever since. Between opening the artillery sequence and the ensuing space chase, this episode is half over before we ever even get to the famous "Kirk and the lizard suit at Vasquez Rocks" material.

The late-onset silliness may also overshadow the solid Star Trek moral at the very end of this episode. The Gorn did not attack without purpose, and our heroes come to realize that they themselves -- not the Gorn -- may actually be in the wrong. Plus, this message in support of empathy and diplomacy comes at the end of a lengthy sequence where Kirk "MacGyvers" (before the term existed, of course) a weapon out of the materials he can kind -- a message supporting "brains over brawn."

And yet -- I wish that more of this episode felt original. We're not even halfway done with the first season, and we've encountered so many aliens with godlike powers that it's hard to keep track. The destruction of outposts and an ensuing space chase were the entire story in "Balance of Terror." So I find it hard to love this episode, no matter how famous it is, when half of it is a rehash and half of what's left is kind of hokey.

Other observations:

• Even with nearly 20 episodes in the can, Star Trek was still finding itself. The ship has "screens" instead of "shields," there's still clearly no concept of the "Federation" as people talk about "Earth outposts," and there's no real consistency between episodes about how fast is dangerously fast for the Enterprise.

• But we do get a vaporized redshirt, expected banter between Spock and McCoy, and a lot of Star Trek characters watching an episode of Star Trek. (Once you notice it, you'll see that characters on Star Trek watch viewscreen clips of themselves and their shipmates more often than you'd expect.) 

• Speaking of "watching Star Trek," Spock gets really weird about it. As he watches footage of Kirk figuring out how to build a weapon from raw materials, he groans "yes, yessssss...." like some kind of villain cheering on his minion.

This iconic episode does have many good moments. But when you're actually watching it, and not remembering it through rose-colored glasses, it has many shortcomings too. Overall, I'd give "Arena" a B-.

21!

You may have noticed that I don't blog as frequently as I used to. Or hey, maybe you're too busy to have noticed.. That's ok -- especially if you're not that into Star Trek, which I acknowledge makes up a fair chunk of what I post these days.

But I do still post often enough that I still consider this a regular thing. And now, it's been a regular thing for a shocking 21 years. That's right -- this blog is of drinking age... and features nearly 6,000 of my posts.

I started it all those years ago mainly as a way of keeping in cyber-touch with friends I'd moved away from after a layoff and cross-country move. This was in a long-ago, mythical time where there wasn't much social media established for doing that. Heimlich Maneuvers was really just a way for me to swap the same talk with people that I would have if we were still getting together in person, having all seen the latest movie or played the latest board game.

I'm still in touch with most of those people. I've met many more along the way. (Though let me raise the glass this blog is now old enough to drink in memory of one no longer with us.)

As long as you pop in here from time to time, actually caring what I might have to say about a new TV show, my latest vacation, or whatever? I'll probably keep coming here to write about it. (Though I suppose by now, there's more than enough material here for AI to mine my tastes and spit out a reasonable facsimile of what I might think about any given thing -- and how I might express those thoughts.)

The value of opinions on the internet are perhaps worth less than ever. But thanks for coming here for mine. 

Enterprise Flashback: Awakening

The epic Vulcan trilogy on Star Trek: Enterprise continues with "Awakening."

Archer and T'Pol find the resistance enclave they've been searching for, where many revelations ensue. The people there are not the terrorists the government claims. The disillusionment that drove T'Pol's mother to join then runs so deep that the two of them now find surprising common ground. But most significantly, Archer now carries the living spirit of the movement's heroic figure, Surak. Meanwhile, Vulcan leader V'Las escalates his campaign against the dissidents, removing anyone who might stand in his way.

This trilogy has such epic storytelling intentions, aiming to show us how Vulcans grew from their Enterprise depiction (hardly as in control emotionally as they claim) to the people we know from later (well... earlier) Star Trek. Surak appears to Archer in multiple visions to discuss the state of the world, relative to the one he was trying to create; this is not unlike the Buddha or Jesus appearing to someone today. (Time scale and everything.) We soon learn of an artifact containing Surak's original writings, an Ark of the Covenant-like Macguffin that seemingly introduces Raiders of the Lost Ark adventure to the tale.

But to me, the thing this episode does best is balancing the epic story with personal stakes. Soval is fired from his ambassador job, completing his transformation from prickly adversary to stalwart ally for the Enterprise crew. T'Pol and her mother finally reach an understanding... only for the latter to die and leave T'Pol in emotional turmoil once more. The character of T'Pau is made to confront her prejudice against humans. It's all strong material, and generally well performed.

Yet also, this episode has common "middle of a trilogy" issues where the story is straining to get from point A to point B. Surak's katra has been in other Vulcans before now landing in Archer. Why does he reveal to Archer where to find his writings when he could have done so with any of those previous hosts? At the end of the episode, Soval reveals the Vulcan plan to spark war with Andoria... though it sure seems like knowledge he had the entire time and could have revealed earlier, except to make for a dramatic cliffhanger.

Then there's the character of V'Las, leader of the Vulcan government, who just seems cartoonishly villainous. Why is V'Las so bent on war with Andoria? Why does he actually think that bombing the Syrrannite faction is necessary for him to get to that? (I guess Vulcan doesn't have a T'Streisand effect.) How did a guy this irrational become the leader of a people who pride themselves on logic?

(I will admit: in the real world, a certain Cheeto-haired would-be Mussolini is doing his level best to illustrate that this sort of behavior is far more realistic than you might think. But as the saying goes, truth is stranger than fiction... which means that fiction has to "hang together" better.)

Other observations:

• Apparently, most Vulcans regard katras as they do time travel... which we've been told again and again (and again and again and again), is regarded as impossible by Vulcan orthodoxy.

• There's a fun exchange between Soval and Trip, when the former confesses his deep affinity for humans. "You did a pretty good job of hiding it." "Thank you."  

The villain of this story seems to be evil just for evil's sake. But I still find the rest of the episode fairly compelling. I give "Awakening" a B.

The Growth of Shrinking

When I blog about TV shows, it usually goes one of two ways: I dive in to an episode-by-episode recap of the entire show, or I post about it once and move on. It's very rare that I circle back to a show just finishing up a new season. But I feel compelled to do that about the just-finished third season of Shrinking.

Shrinking is a comedy-drama hybrid about therapist Jimmy Laird, who is struggling with grief after the sudden death of his wife. But with the help of his co-workers, his neighbors, a long-time friend, and a patient with whom he takes a very hands-on approach, he begins to pull things together for himself and his teenage daughter.

I admit, the description of the premise certainly doesn't sound funny. But the cocktail that is Shrinking is a delicately balanced one, with all the ingredients in just the right proportions. And if you're a TV fan who somehow hasn't tried Shrinking, perhaps it would help to know that one of the show's creators is Bill Lawrence, the guy behind Scrubs, Ted Lasso, Cougar Town, and most recently, Rooster.

When I first blogged about season one of the show, pretty much the only less-than-positive things I had to say about it were that the show took a few episodes to really get going, and that star Jason Segel wasn't as strong as the rest of the cast. Today, with season three just finished, neither of those things are true. The show knows exactly what it is. And more than perhaps any other cast member, Jason Segel has come to embody the show's unique blend of bittersweetness.

I wanted to mention the series again because season three was the best yet for the show. Every single one of the 11 episodes made me laugh out loud in moments and made me cry in others. Despite stiff competition from other things I'm watching right now, there was no other show I looked forward to more. Every single cast member -- Jessica Williams, Luke Tennie, Michael Urie, Lukita Maxwell, Christa Miller, and Ted McGinley -- was superb. Harrison Ford was doing the best work of his career. (Yes. I said it, and I meant it.) The parade of guest stars was extraordinary: Cobie Smulders, Brett Goldstein, Damon Wayans Jr., Lily Rabe, Wendie Malick, Michael J. Fox, Jeff Daniels, Candice Bergen... on and on and on.

And the show wound its way to a satisfying conclusion. Because yes, this was written as a series finale. Creator Bill Lawrence has stated that the show always had a three-year story plan, and this was it. He's now also agreed to make a season four. Is this going to be like the weird ninth season of the original Scrubs, or more like the new revival season I'm hearing good things about from fans? I guess we'll find out. But for now, the three seasons we have stand perfectly on their own.

Season three of Shrinking is the best TV I've seen so far this year. Eight months from now, if it no longer stands atop the heap, it will have been a truly extraordinary year of television indeed. Season three is a perfect A. If you've never watched Shrinking, I'd make it #1 on my list of recommendations for you. 

Star Trek Flashback: The Squire of Gothos

Almost 40 years on from the debut of Star Trek: The Next Generation, it's hard to imagine that when that series first launched, it was uncertain whether it would last, and its was actively hated by a small but vocal group of Star Trek fandom. (Look at Star Trek: Starfleet Academy today, and you'll see times haven't really changed.) While The Next Generation did indeed get time to grow (and wow, did it flourish), I have to admit the haters might have had a point about many of the very early episodes, which often blatantly ripped off story lines from classic Star Trek episodes. When the very first episode needed to be padded from a regular one-hour installment into a special two-hour premiere, Gene Roddenberry did so by adding Q, a character lifted directly from a classic Star Trek episode, "The Squire of Gothos."

Passing through an empty region of space, the Enterprise comes upon an entire planet seemingly out of nowhere. Its lone inhabitant, Trelane, is an eccentric alien with powerful, almost magical abilities -- and an unchecked desired to see the Enterprise crew perform for his amusement. Can our heroes figure out a way to neutralize or overcome Trelane's abilities? Or will Kirk be sentenced to death by Trelane in a show trial?

It's shocking just how closely the Q story line of "Encounter at Farpoint" follows the essential plot elements of "The Squire of Gothos," from the archaic speech and cosplay to the casual chauvinism to the mock court proceedings. It's little wonder that fans have been supposing that "Trelane was a Q" pretty much since Next Gen day one, a connection finally made official by Strange New Worlds in its most recent season. The story is only different at the margins, with the revelation of "Gothos" removed (that this powerful alien is actually a child) and the motives of the trial being added for "Farpoint" (all of humanity is being judged, not just the captain).

It seems certain that The Next Generation's rehash would never have gotten the traction it did without the performance of actor John de Lancie as Q. But I think that just goes to show how unthinkable the idea of a "sequel episode" was in late 1960s television. Trelane absolutely could have returned, because it's not like William Campbell gives a bad performance. Is he over the top? Absolutely. Is he petulant and obnoxious? You bet. Also, is he exactly what the script calls for? Of course. He's the reason why this episode was memorable in the first place, to be ripped off some 20 years later. There's a reason classic Star Trek would cast Campbell again as guest star in season two in another, also highly-memorable role.

The fact that we have both a 1960s and 1980s take on essentially the same story really highlights all the 1960s elements of "The Squire of Gothos," To illustrate to the 60s audience how commonplace space travel is in Star Trek's imagined future, it's happening as literally everyone on the bridge is drinking coffee. When actors are "frozen" by Trelane's power, there's no visual effect or even a locked-off single frame of film; they just have to hold still -- poorly. The leaps in logic our heroes make as they reason the limits of Trelane's power seem wild, dictated by episode run time more than reasonable extrapolation. The cartoonish sound effects that result when Kirk shoots out Trelane's "magic mirror" are actually laugh-out-loud silly. So are the efforts to enact a sprawling chase through a forest on the limited set the show is able to present. (All the money went, understandably, to the castle gate and interior.)

But the episode has its charms. Its great when Spock uses precise language to tell Trelane, to his face, how distasteful he is. It's fun to watch Kirk slowly discover the right way to handle Trelane (as the bratty child he's ultimately revealed to be). Scotty actually gets to be shown as a miracle worker in this episode, beaming up the first landing party despite interference (rather than exclaiming that some repair will take four times longer than it will).

Other observations:

• The episode makes a point of placing two characters, DeSalle and Jaeger, and then calling upon (respectively) their French and German ancestry. But the episode can't get everyone on the same page about referring to the later as "YAY-ger" or "JAY-ger."

• McCoy just dives on in, eating and drinking everything on Trelane's table. Sure, he "covers" a minute later when he shares the observation that none of it had any taste. But I love the "if I'm gonna be stuck here, I might as well try to get drunk" vibe.

• One moment, Trelane is said not to be aware of any Earth history in the past thousand years. The next, he's referencing Alexander Hamilton. (Though Trelane's "take turns shooting" rules of pistol dueling don't look anything like any other duel I've seen in pop culture.)

• A few moments have aged like milk, such as the moment when Trelane meets Uhura, or when Kirk talks about the boyish prank of dipping girls' pigtails into inkwells.

I might think more highly of this episode if the Star Trek of my childhood hadn't gone on to make so much more of the same concepts. On its own, I feel like "The Squire of Gothos" is a C+. 

Enterprise Flashback: The Forge

Under new showrunner Manny Coto, the fourth season of Star Trek: Enterprise finally embraced the series' promise as a Star Trek prequel with a three-part episode that pulled together bits of franchise lore into an eclectic buffet plate of fun. For its next trick? Another three-parter, this time focused on the Vulcans. It begins with "The Forge."

A bombing at the human embassy on Vulcan leads to accusations against a desert-dwelling faction with disfavored views of the historic Vulcan leader, Surak. When T'Pol learns that her mother is a part of this outcast sect -- and is now missing -- she and Archer set out into some of the most hostile terrain on Vulcan for answers. Meanwhile, the rest of the Enterprise crew find an unexpected ally in their perennial adversary, Soval, who himself doubts his government's evidence in the bombing investigation.

It's all but impossible to remember today, but there was a time where the legacy of Star Trek was carried only by the occasional film starring the original cast, and a series of licensed novels written by a parade of authors. Those novels remained popular with fans even after The Next Generation and other spin-off series arrived, with certain authors being especially beloved. Among those was husband-and-wife team Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens, who were tapped for the writing staff of Enterprise in season four, and whose first credited episode was "The Forge."

I read more than my share of those Star Trek novels back in the day, and remember them as being BY the most ardent of Star Trek fans, FOR the most ardent of Star Trek fans. So it seems like a perfect fit to have the Reeves-Stevens at the keyboard for this tale of "how Vulcans became Vulcans," featuring a mind meld, two different characters who first appeared in the original series, a new look at Vulcan consciousness enduring beyond death, and more. You want to see colossal statues wielding Vulcan ritual weapons? The first live-action appearance of a sehlat, an oft-mentioned Vulcan animal? Multiple homages to Spock's beloved story arc of Star Trek II and III? It's all here.

Maybe you're more of a then-modern Trekker than a fan of the original series. Don't worry, you're covered too. Actor Robert Foxworth, who guest-starred so effectively in a multi-part Deep Space Nine story about isolationists seizing control of government, returns here to do it again in Vulcan makeup. Much like the just-finished Augments story arc, there's a wealth of ways for a longtime Star Trek fan to get into this new story.

But if you're an Enterprise fan, first and foremost? I'm not sure this episode is nearly as fun. It kicks off with -- uh... 20-some-year-old SPOILER here -- the unceremonious death of Admiral Forrest, killed in the bombing on Vulcan. The episode tries to give him a dignified final scene with Ambassador Soval, but I really struggle getting over the fact that actor Vaughn Armstrong's recurring character sat out for the entirety of season three, only to finally be brought back here for a couple minutes before being killed off-screen. Even though Soval "mourns" his death (by Vulcan standards, at least), it feels like a writing trick -- cruel, cheap, or both.

It's at least a better episode for the regular characters. Trip is really the one to finally crack Soval's icy shell. Reed actually shows marginal skill (at last) during the investigation of the bombing. Phlox is able to expose the fraud in the official findings. And while I don't love Archer's behavior through most of the episode (antagonizing Soval; being rather chauvinist toward T'Pol), he seems on a path to learn something by the end of this episode, now that he's carrying the katra of Surak.

Other observations:

• Phlox's weirdly stationary approach to basketball seems appropriate to the character, though I'm not sure how it's so effective.

• I'm actually with Archer when it comes to the idea of a sehlat as a pet. "Porthos doesn't try to eat me when I'm late with his dinner."

I'm really not down with the treatment of Forrest to get this story rolling. But once it is, that story shows promise. I give "The Forge" a B.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

Andy Weir's book Project Hail Mary was one of my favorite reads of the last several years. Ever since the film version was announced, I've been waiting for it with equal parts enthusiasm and nervousness. They couldn't possibly mess it up, right? But were they going to mess it up?

When the movie finally arrived, I was out of town for a ski-trip-turned-board-game-trip. Fortunately, since I'd already read the book, I didn't need to worry about anything being spoiled for me. But I did start to get a bit worried about the rapturous response from audiences. There was no corner of social media where I wouldn't encounter someone raving about how good the movie was. ("Two thumbs down! If you know, you know!") Was the experience going to be totally overhyped for me by the time I finally did see it?

Well, maybe a little. But generally -- nope, the movie actually does manage to capture most of what made the book so enjoyable.

That book/movie, if you're unfamiliar, is the story of Ryland Grace, who wakes up aboard a spaceship that's traveled to another star. As his memories of how he got there slowly return, he tries to learn why this star is immune to a contagion that's gradually killing our own sun and threatening all life on Earth. What the movie campaign eagerly spoils (that talk of the book avoided) is that Grace has an unlikely ally on his mission -- an alien creature named Rocky from another star similarly affected. The two first learn to communicate, and then forge a deep friendship as they work together to save their planets.

It's tempting to become mired in what Project Hail Mary loses in transition from page to screen. To forge a potential blockbuster with broad appeal (something the filmmakers achieved!), they definitely sand down the sharp edges of all the science talk -- that's just not cinematic enough. To bring down the run time, most of the "slow progress" moments of the book are transformed into montages or sudden "eureka!" moments. (Not that the movie is "short," clocking in at 2 hours, 36 minutes.) But if you want all of that, the book still exists. Indeed, the movie has made me seriously consider going back to it soon.

And I mean that as nothing but a compliment. Because I really didn't receive the movie as some "pale shadow of the book," but rather as a potent reminder of everything I loved about the book. When you step back and think about it, the degree of difficulty here was impossibly high.

Few movies rely so much on the performance of a single actor. And not since Tom Hanks and Cast Away have so many people appreciated the ability of such a single actor to develop chemistry with the least likely of screen partners. The filmmakers' decision to realize Rocky through puppetry instead of CG was crucial. Their much-discussed choice to keep the voice performance of the lead puppeteer (rather than stunt cast a new voice-over) was alchemy. And Ryan Gosling is that good here. He's carrying the movie so well that you almost don't feel like he is carrying the movie; Project Hail Mary feels like a two-hander that just happens to have an unusual second character.

And before I move away from character and casting, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that Sandra Hüller is also very strong as Eva Stratt, head of Earth's planet-saving efforts. Hüller's performance actually made me appreciate the character more than the book, as she shades the bureaucratic martinet with just enough humanity and dry humor to make an important turn in the story hit harder.

The last time this particular screen writer, Drew Goddard, adapted an Andy Weir book, the result was The Martian. That was an excellent movie... which laughably won the Golden Globe for "Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy" simply because science fiction wasn't (probably still isn't) respected enough to compete in the Drama category. But Goddard's work here on Project Hail Mary, along with the direction by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, really does feel more legitimately comedic. This adaptation may have had to jettison some of the hard science, but it clung tightly to the elements of humor.

Finally, a few notes in praise of the filmmaking. Lord and Miller chose to do this movie using practical effects and in-camera effects as much as possible, and it's absolutely the right decision. In just the post-production time since the movie was filmed, the rise of AI slop has made most of us more savvy than ever to the artificial look of unreal images. And while talented Hollywood effects artists can, of course, achieve visuals much better than said slop, there's still at least a subconscious level on which most viewers reject something they know is completely digital. I already mentioned the decision to render Rocky through puppetry and not computers, but it goes beyond that. The "make it work somehow" ethos of the physical approach dovetails perfectly with the message of the story.

I also appreciated the music. The score by Daniel Pemberton shifted nimbly to support both humor and drama, and some notable "needle drops" certainly paid off well. (I might even say the one we get by The Beatles could be in the running for the most perfectly curated and placed Beatles track used in any movie.)

So... "thumbs down?" (If you know, you know.) Yeah. I'll give Project Hail Mary an A-, probably shaving a bit only for my total enjoyment of the source material.