78. Remember Me

'I know what I'm saying is crazy. You have to believe me, Jean-Luc; this is my 'very-serious' face." — Dr. Crusher

 Remember Me, The Next Generation, Season 4, Episode 5

I kind of feel like the Top 100 List is punishing me. Last episode, I plowed through 'I, Mudd' with great difficulty. This time, we get an episode of TNG that just didn't work for me. It's not terrible, but for me it falls in the category, of 'why is this in the list, again?' It's a Beverly-Crusher-centric episode, and that's not always a good thing. In 'Remember Me,' Dr. Crusher is trapped in a reality that's collapsing in on her, eliminating everything and everyone around her.

It starts off with a strange occurrence. Dr. Crusher starts to notice that members of the crew go missing. First, it's just an old friend of Dr. Crusher, seemingly wiped from existence. All record of his presence on the Enterprise is gone. Everyone's memory has been altered and Dr. Crusher has trouble convincing everyone that something is wrong. Others start to go missing, until the Enterprise is staffed with a skeleton crew. And Dr. Crusher fights to convince everyone that what they're experiencing is incorrect. That she's not crazy. That something is very, very wrong on the Enterprise-D.  

Space-Calgon is a very dangerous, and should not be tampered with. 

Let's talk about about Dr. Beverly Crusher. Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise. Commander in rank. Former head of Starfleet Medical. Widow. Mother. Friend and potential love interest of Jean-Luc Picard. She's supposed to be a strong female character, but more often than not she's relegated to exposition and caretaker. Which means, more often than not, Dr. Crusher doesn't have that much to do other than wave her tricorder and speak nonsense. Unlike McCoy in the Original Series, she's not integral to the show, as demonstrated by her replacement, Dr. Pulaski, in season two. Pulaski, though her service aboard the Enterprise was brief, shook things up, constantly challenged the status quo, and showed more character development in one season than Crusher did in six.

Earlier in the series, Crusher had a will-they-won't-they thing happening with Picard, but other than that, she didn't have that well-developed of a character. She didn't really have a hook, so to speak, like the other doctors in the series. McCoy was the country doctor. Bashir was naive, inexperienced and a bit arrogant. Voyager's EMH was an artificial intelligence looking to expand his existence beyond his original programming. Phlox was an alien outsider and constant optimist. Crusher was Wesley's mom, and not much else going on. Everything about her was seemingly defined by someone else. I can't really put that on the actor, Gates McFadden. She does the best she can with the cards she's dealt.

For Dr. Crusher to carry the episode, she needed to have been a more substantial as a character, and, sadly, she's not. And we're midway through in the series, and she's still defined by her relationships with her captain and her son. We need a reason to care for her more than she's part of the ensemble.

Then there's a shift in this episode when it changes focus from Dr. Crusher to her son Wesley. In that moment, it changes from being about character to being about technobabble. And that's pretty much when 'Remember Me' loses me.

'Wait a minute! Geordie look at this! According to my calculations —which I can totally do in my head — if we can reconfigure the antimatter in the warp-matrix, and re-route auxiliary power to the starboard nacelle, we can bypass main power, and re-channel it through the main defector dish. Then once we use inverted tachyons to generate a stable graviton field, we should be able to have just enough power to do a site-to-site transport and get everyone into the final act of this episode and get my mom back. Also, EPS conduits, and jefferies tubes, or something. I can do this by speaking excitedly and pushing about three buttons on this panel. It probably won't blow up the ship at all." — Wesley Crusher

Wesley is super-duper-special with warp technology and science stuff, or so they tell us. When, it's revealed that Dr. Crusher was caught in an accident from Wesley's warp experiment, my reaction was a hearty 'whatever.' Her passing thoughts at the time of the accident create a reality around her that starts to fall apart as time goes on. I bet she's glad wasn't thinking of giant, killer, mutant spiders when the accident happened. I bet it would have made a much more exciting episode, but what the heck do I know.

The last act is chockfull of warp-speak and metaphysical pseudoscience about thought affecting reality. We even get callback to Season One with an alien who proclaimed Wesley's super-specialness. The problem is that the purpose of Wesley's experiment is vague, and the accidental disappearance of Dr. Crusher is never explained in a way that really connects.* The solution to the mystery presented feels like a cheat. Because it's not one that the audience can solve by piecing together the clues presented, the resolution felt to me like a big, fat 'uh-if-you-say-so.'

When reunited, Wesley falls asleep mid-hug.

Over the course of the series, Dr. Crusher does branch out a bit. When Wil Wheaton left the show, and Dr. Crusher was without Wesley to worry about, we learn that she's interested in command, a playwright and director, a capable leader, and one hell of a tap dancer. Dr. Crusher moves from being a protective mother and eventually evolves into the stalwart moral compass of the Enterprise.

But in this instance, she's still just Wesley's mom.

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Next up, another doctor steps into the holosuite role of a suave, sixties, super-spy in 'Our Man Bashir.' 

* Okay, it tracks logically, I guess — if you want to get technical about the technobabble — but it comes from a place of plot not emotion, and therefore no one really cares. 

#81, The Enemy Within, Star Trek, The Original Series, Season 1, Episode 5

"I'm not a bad guy, really." — Dark Kirk

I recently got into a Facebook argument with a friend who only acknowledges the greatness of the Original Series, and feels that everything else that follows is terrible. At least, unworthy. He and I vastly disagree on this, obviously. While, I greatly respect The Original Series and the legacy it created, as I've stated before, it's not my Trek. So, if you're a fan of The Original Series (and only The Original Series), I'm going to apologize in advance for the next few reviews of the adventures of Kirk, Spock and McCoy on the Top 100 list. 'The Enemy Within,' 'I, Mudd,' 'A Piece of the Action,' these episodes are not for me. They're everything that I find off-putting about TOS, however...

However...

However, I'm going to do my best to appreciate them for what they are, the era in which they aired, and the spirit in which they're presented. I'm willing to give 'The Enemy Within' a lot of latitude because as Episode 5 of a decades-spanning franchise, the show is still figuring out what it is. Sulu and Scotty get a lot of air-time. There are a couple of firsts here, it's on this episode that Nimoy created the Vulcan nerve pinch (though an episode shot later aired earlier). We get out first look at Kirk's wrap-around captain's tunic. When a bunch of crew are trapped on a freezing planet and the transporter is inoperable, the obvious solution would be to use shuttlecraft, except they hadn't been established in the show yet.

For example, after this episode, they decided against making the Space-Unicorn-Terrier a re-occuring character. 

So, let's try a compliment sandwich, shall we? I'll say something nice, I'll say something less-than-nice, and then I'll say something nice again. Let's see how that works out.

'The Enemy Within' has a fantastic premise and had amazing potential. And the vibe of the episode is far more Twilight Zone that Star Trek. And coming from scifi legend and Twilight Zone alum, Richard Matheson, this is wholly appropriate. The episode is dark, brooding, and explores not just the darker side of Kirk, but the darker side of mankind as a whole. It asks the question of what happens when we strip away our humanity, and looks at what's left. A transporter accident creates two Kirks. One, slowly losing himself in self-doubt and fear, the other, the baser animal nature of humanity. We look at a man split into two extremes, and seeing what happens when a man's psyche is metaphorically and physically thrown off balance.

Matheson keeps the division between the Kirks from being as simplistic as 'Good' and 'Evil.' They go out of their way to point out that these aspects of personality are necessary for the whole. Dark Kirk is primal, driven by desire and self-interest. Kirk-Lite spirals from being the man he once was into a man who's incapable of making a decision.

Unfortunaltely, the different aspects of Kirk that are presented, the Compassionate and Indecisive Kirk-Lite and the RAGE, RAGE and OMG-SOMEHOW-YET-EVEN-MORE-RAGE Dark Kirk are played to such extremes the results come across as more comical than poignant. Now, let's call this for what it is, it's a television show trying to communicate a story point. But even so, it's really hard for me to watch Shartner sneer and snarl his way around the Enterprise as Dark Kirk. I don't think I'm going out on a limb in saying that Shatner is not the most well-respected thespian ever to grace the small screen. But in 'The Enemy Within,' his depiction of Dark Kirk as over the top, even for him. The choices of guyliner, general sweatiness of Dark Kirk, over-dramatic music, and the lighting doesn't help the subtlety of the situation, either.

"I'm acting! I am! Acting! I'm ACTING!" - Dark Kirk

Kirk-Lite wanders around the ship, waiting for others to act, and slowly loses his ability to command the Enterprise. Kirk-Lite is far less defined than Dark Kirk. Dark Kirk's first acts are to demand booze and force himself upon Yeoman Rand. Kirk-Lite's actions are more business as usual, but he increasingly becomes incapable of commanding his ship. Where Dark Kirk's actions are clearly aggressive, the aspects of this Kirk's personality are far more vague. I have little doubt that this is unintentional, a deliberate contrast between hard and soft. But we never get a sense of that the traits Kirk-Lite are any kind of benefit. All we get is that Kirk-Lite is incomplete.

"I have no strong opinion. Whatever is fine. What do you think?" — Kirk-Lite

I'm inferring here that the darker nature of humanity is not only necessary, but vital in order to be a whole human being. I'm not sure I'm okay with that. I think I'd be more amenable to the episode if the attributes of compassion and empathy were presented in any kind of positive light. But they're not, really. Compassion here is equated with weakness. I fundamentally disagree with the overall idea that the only way to be whole is to be equal part aggressive asshole. It's quite the mixed message for a show that looks to an idealized society where humanity has evolved to a nigh-utopian state. More than the low-grade production values, more than Spock's sole function as the Exposition Officer, more than the horrible treatment of Rand, this message is this reason that I can't really connect to this episode.

Also, the alien-dog-thing looks just damned ridiculous.

Like all great Star Trek, 'The Enemy Within' asks big questions. I'm just not sure I like the answer they came up with.

--

Next up, Picard does what he does best, negotiating treaties in 'The Wounded.'

#94, Disaster, The Next Generation, Season 5, Episode 5

 'Disaster,' the second entry on Top 100 from the Next Generation, is fine example of a bottle episode. When a collision with an interstellar technobabble something or other (a quantum filament) causes an accident that incapacitates the Enterprise, the crew struggles to get back control before the ship explodes.

The Enterprise in 'sleep' mode. 

I should note that this episode was written by future Battlestar Galactica mastermind, Ronald D. Moore. The focus here is entirely character driven, and on putting these characters in unfamiliar territory. Situations counter to their nature. Captain Picard has to lead a group of children. Worf has to guide a woman through childbirth. And, the situation with the potential for the most disaster, Troi is put in command of the Enterprise.

Captain Picard has promised the winners of the Enterprise children's science fair a special tour of the ship. Picard, who in the pilot of the series stated that he's uncomfortable around children, is forced to get in touch with his paternal instincts and lead the children through the disaster. Throughout the episode, Picard has to adjust to leading children, something he admits to having little experience. By the end of the episode, he's bonded with these children. Effectively overcoming his admitted awkwardness with kids. Which means, by the end of the episode Picard is now without any weaknesses whatsoever. Because he is awesome.

When the accident happens, a redshirt bridge commander -- who we've never met before — bites it, and leaves Troi in command. Troi, it turns out, has the rank of Lieutenant Commander. This is not a thing that comes up often. Or, well, ever. Usually her role in the show is to state the obvious or move the plot forward. Here she's got to and she transitions from a position of uncertainty, blindly taking suggestions from O'Brien and Ensign Ro, to making command decisions that saves the lives of everyone on the crew.  But she does so on nothing but blind luck.

With no section of the ship able to communicate with any other part of the ship, their plan to save the Enterprise is dependent on someone alive in engineering able to reactivate the antimatter containment field saving the ship. Ro pushes for Troi to separate the saucer section and save everyone they can. And pushes hard. Troi refuses, wanting to give everyone the best possible chance to survive.

Troi is running entirely on faith, with no evidence that there's anyone else alive on the ship. Why she can't sense them is a convenient oversight in the story. But it's the convenience of her being right that kind of irks me here. There's an infallibility to the crew that cuts out the dramatic tension. And though there was never any real threat of the Enterprise blowing up, the only real consequence is the aforementioned redshirt. Everyone does the right thing in this episode. And every decision is validated with success. Fortunately, Riker and Data's head (see the episode, it'd take too long to explain) make their way to Engineering just in time, and everyone gets a mega-happy ending.

"Where is my happy ending, Counsellor?" — Data

Marina Sirtis does a good job of showing someone completely out of her element finding confidence in their decisions. When she finally takes control she does with as much gravitas as she's able.

And Worf delivers a baby in Ten Forward. Hilarity ensues.

My Favorite Moment in the episode... When Picard meets the winners of the children's science fair, he asks them about their experiments. The youngest of them had the strangest, and most awesome response. The boy said, "I planted radishes in special dirt and they came out all weeeeird." Complete with maniacal grinning and finger steepling. Aaaaannd, what? What the hell kind of mutant soil are they letting kids play with? What the hell kind of kid would want to do that? What the hell, Next Generation? Maybe growing up on a starship warps kids in ways we can't possibly imagine. During the episode, when Picard is trying to boost morale of the kids by assigning they ranks in their small crew, he appoints the kid the Executive Officer in Charge of Radishes.

It's a position that will not turn out well for any radish on board.

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Next up on the list, Voyager's two-part 'Future's End.' Voyager travels back to the distant past in the 1990s and the villain is Ed Begley, Jr. If that doesn't sound like a recipe for success, then...

Okay, I have no idea how to finish that sentence.