74. Living Witness

"Please state the nature of the historical inaccuracies." — The Doctor

74. Living Witness, Voyager, Season 4, Episode 23

You could probably argue that this episode broke this blog. And you'd probably be right. It's been a while since I've written on this — nearly two years since I visited the Final Frontier in this fashion. A lot has happened since then, and I've been preposterously swamped with projects both personal and professional... But, that's just an excuse. The real reason I haven't been able to move forward on this list of the Top 100 episodes of Star Trek is this episode of Voyager. I've watched 'Living Witness' several times in preparation of this entry. I've started and stopped this article many times, and I keep coming to the same conclusion... 'Living Witness' isn't really a story. It's an hourlong premise told by a series of unreliable narrators, wrapped in a framing device inside another framing device, offers smorgasbord of 'what ifs,' and has an ending that feels less like a shocking twist and more of an oh-crap-we're-totally-out-of-time-and-need-to-wrap-this-up.

And that's frustrating as all get out, because it's a damn great premise.

The cold open of 'Living Witness' is just... well, it's nothing short of glorious. An Evil Janeway presides over a Super-Evil crew — the Doctor as a Soong-style android, Seven of Nine in full Borg-mode, Chakotay with an even craaaazier face tattoo. The crew of the Warship Voyager portrayed as amoral genocidal militant a-holes. They find themselves in an alien civil war between generic aliens species one, the Kryians, and generic alien species two, the Vaskans. And everything about this pointed to Voyager dipping their nacelle in the Mirror Universe, until the twist! It's not real! It's a holodeck historical recreation by the Kryians, showing the events of the war — and the villainous acts of the Voyager crew — from the vantage point of 700 years in the future!

The information about the holographic crew of the Voyager is pieced from fragments of knowledge taken from the historical records, filling the holes with that they needed to fit the historian's preconceived narrative. While poking around the artifacts recovered from the incident, they accidentally reactivates the a data module, and a backup copy of the Doctor materializes, believing himself to be still in the middle of the conflict. The Doctor is a living time capsule, who tries to correct the narrative of Voyager being Eeeevil, and tries to present them as unwitting participants in a civil war.

Just like on Earth, in space, history is written by the victors. I know this only because they hit me over the head so hard with this I was knocked out for the better part of two years (as far as you know). It's one of those afforisms that makes me more or less want to projectile vomit, it's so overused. But.. as much as I love snark, let's accentuate the positive, shall we?

"Say... something... nice." — Evil Janeway

Mulgrew is great as Evil Janeway. She's dark and menacing without ever falling into mustache-twirling-terrible territory. Evil Janeway takes morally questionable actions not because she's evil, but because it's the shortest distance between the two points of where she is and where she wants to be. She supports Generic Alien Species One because it gets her closer to her ultimate goal, the safe return of her people to the Alpha Quadrant. Evil Janeway has an ends-justify-the-means-mentality so pure she places herself above morality. Evil Janeway knows what she's doing is extreme, but sees the big picture. She'll use torture, Borg assimilation, and mass genocide if it means getting her crew — nay, her family — home. Mulgrew's Evil Janeway is so great, that when the Doctor presents Actual Janeway in the simulation,* Actual Janeway seems far less interesting.

And let's give a shoutout to Robert Picardo, who always shines as the Doctor, and has to sell the outrage of the portrayal of the crew of Voyager as villains and be the voice of reason correcting the annals of history. Picardo's an outstanding actor, and this episode rests squarely on his shoulder pads. He's the single reason the Doctor is elevated beyond a Data knockoff to being among the greatest characters in all of Star Trek.

What's astoundingly prescient about the episode — especially in a time when anything that contradicts the establishment is dismissed as fake new — is how resistant the powers that be are to truth. The Doctor's more accurate representation of the facts are dismissed as being overwhelmingly biased by those who are challenged. And maybe they're right. The Doctor admits to extrapolating some parts of his recreation based on what he knows about the players involved, and not objective truth. Because this episode is presented as a layer within a layer within yet another layer with unreliable narrator telling the story of another unreliable narrator, there is no truth. Only, certain points of view.

Like a lot of entries on the list, it takes a crew we know and places them outside their norm. And this seems to be a reoccurring theme on the list. One of the reasons that Evil Janeway (and evil Voyager crew) works is that Mulgrew (and others) have crafted such a well-defined and morally stalwart character that it's okay to see them out of that norm. 

This is the fourth entry into this list by Bryan Fuller. Now, I love Fuller's work. Wonderfalls, Pushing Daisies, Hannibal, American Gods, and was executive producer and creator of Star Trek Discovery. Heck, I even liked his reimagining of the Munsters with Mockingbird Lane.** He once cited the desire to write Star Trek as the reason he became a professional writer, and that's a thing that I can absolutley relate to. However, as much as I love Fuller's work, I feel one of the reasons I struggle with this episode, is that it feels incomplete.

Once the Doctor gives the impassioned speech about the importance of truth, justice and the Federation Janeway, we cut to another historian presenting another historical recreation set in the distant future. So everything we saw was a historical recreation about a historical recreation. And for that reason, it feels two steps removed from any actual events. Ultimately, there are no consequences, either for the characters or for the show. And without consequences the whole thing falls flat.

One of the frustrating things about the episode is the unresolved nature of the story. Because the episode's rushed ending, the resolution and vindication of the Doctor's point of view feels unearned. The Doctor and we know that Janeway and crew are not Evil.*** Recorded history says otherwise. Obviously we side with the Doctor, but... would we? If we were only presented with the information in the episode, who's to say what we should believe. Okay, then, I'll say it, we might believe that the crew of Voyager were monsters. Horrible, horrible monsters.

Some with weird face tattoos.

Thanks for reading, and welcome back, dear readers.

——

Next up, the Picard brothers get into shenanigans in 'Family.' And by shenanigans, I mean they yell at each other in one of the most poignant and powerful episodes of the franchise.

——

*I know how absurd that reads, even as I type it. 

**Google that. It's fun. 

*** Boring sometimes, and overly reliant on technobabble, but not evil...

75. The Raven

Seven, don't panic, but there's a Borg spider on your hand. Seriously, don't panic. 

75. The Raven, Voyager, Season 4, Episode 6

As you may have noticed, I've strayed from my initial mission statement of reviewing the Top 100 Star Trek Episodes of All Time, as compiled by io9. There is a very good reason for that. I took a job in Japan and one of the many, many differences between the United States and Japan is that Japanese Netflix doesn't have any of the series. In fact, the only two pieces of Trek available to me are Abram's Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness. While, I'll get to reviewing those films later, because I cannot stand the vacuum of Trek in my life right now, I wanted to get back on track, with at least this review that I started before I began my journey to the Land of the Rising Sun.

And now, without further ado, let's set course for the Delta Quadrant.

It's a common belief that Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, 'saved' Voyager. I'm not sure that's consistent with fact. I would say that that's more to the presence of the Borg than that particular character. And though the first episode in which she appeared had relatively high ratings, it was the part two of a cliffhanger that found Voyager in the clutches of the Borg. I understand the ratings for the show went back to normal, yet Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, remained pretty much the focal point of the show from the moment she arrived until the series finale.

"Excuse me, my ocular implants are up here." — Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One

Up until she arrived, the show had steered away from cheesecake. The show had three prominent female characters and none of them were overly sexualized. Janeway was, for all intents and purposes, Picard with better hair. B'Elanna was portrayed as a smart, strong, if sometimes cartoonishly angry character. And while there was a certain manic-pixie-dreamgirl quality to Kes, she was never really presented as a sex symbol. But Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, was front and center with her silver catsuit, Borg enhancements, and characters inexplicably falling for her despite her being a flat out horrible person. Seriously, Harry, Chakotay and the Doctor all fell hard for her despite her having nothing but contempt for pretty much anyone and everything that wasn't Borg.

I guess that I was supposed to find Seven of Nine sexy. I didn't. This is not because Jeri Ryan did not have a pleasing shape that was squeezed into a skintight catsuit. She did and it was. It was because the character was a terrible person. Arrogant. Rude. Entitled. Mean-spirited. Intentionally unlikable. She was interesting, but horribly unlikable.

Worst of all, her presence changed one of the greatest villains in all of Trek history into being a non-threat. Through her, the Borg became familiar. And that familiarity bred contempt. I'll dig into this a bit deeper when we get to episodes like, I, Borg or Best of Both Worlds, but the Borg were legitimately scary. They were partially scary in that their appearances were scarce. The were a shadow threat that loomed over the Next Generation crew. The creators of the show were wise to keep their appearances few and far between. That is, they were scary until Voyager defeated them left and right using their own technology as an intergalactic cure-all for seemingly every situation. I'd love to see how many episodes were resolved by modifying Borg nanoprobes, because there were a lot. The Borg went from being the embodiment of the loss of self through technology to an irksome nuisance.

While she may be an interesting character, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One,  pretty much guaranteed that any chance Voyager ever had from getting out of TNG's shadow was nil. They essentially assimilated the Borg into their cast. Don't get me wrong, I do like Voyager, and there are some great episodes on this list yet to explore. But Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One's addition to the cast was a fundamental shift in the show's dynamic, and I'd argue not for the better.  She became the show's new toy. Janeway was constantly trying to explore her humanity, and teach her about the importance of her free will outside the Borg Collective. I'll skip over the painful, painful irony of Janeway denying Seven's choice to rejoin the Collective because she's trying to get the former Borg to understand the concept of freewill. Over the next few seasons, their mentor-student relationship became tiresome and repetitive.

With the Raven, we get a little bit more about her backstory, and how as a child she was assimilated and raised by the Borg. A mysterious signal triggers something in her brain and she is driven to rejoin the Collective. As she traces the source of the signal what we find is the wreckage of her parent's ship, The Raven. This is where Anaka Hansen was filled with robot parts and had everything she was carved away and turned into a microscopic cog in the infinite machine that is the Borg Collective.

We're even robbed of the connection between Janeway and Seven in the resolution. And in the end, it's Tuvok, not Janeway, that shares the moment of her repressed memories of her assimilation being unleashed. Seven has a breakdown, and it reveals that Ryan's acting chops are far more suited to standing still and hating people while looking good doing it than trying to show a genuine emotion. She's clearly pushing herself as a performer, but the scene is awkward and forcing too much down our throats in terms of emotional connection to the character.

From her facial expression, I'm pretty sure Ryan can smell the clunkiness of this scene. 

This is supposed to make her sympathetic, but I felt it was too rushed. Like we're checking off a box with Seven's origin, rather than getting to a place where her origin mattered. I would have much preferred to see her explored a bit more and see a bit of her PTSD creep in over the course of a season before we rush to her origin story. This was just a few episodes after her debut, and if Janeway and crew had a better chance to care about her, her drive to rejoin the Borg would have had more weight. This would also have given the audience to better understand Janeway's drive to maintain Seven's humanity. If she cared about her as a person rather than as an intellectual and ethical exercise in preserving one's individuality. 'Assimilated as a child' is all we really needed to know about her backstory, and while this episode fills in the gaps to her tale, it doesn't have the emotional resonance that I would have expected from one of my favorite Trek and TV writers and personal heroes, Bryan Fuller.

As she evolves and develops her human side, there are great moments with Seven of Nine throughout Voyager. This is just felt too much too soon.

--

Next up, we take a trip to a museum dedicated to the most ruthless villain in Trek History, Katherine Janeway, with 'Living Witness.'

76. A Wolf In the Fold

Subtlety, thy name is Star Trek

76. 'A Wolf in the Fold,' The Original Series, Season 2, Episode 14

I had almost no memory of 'A Wolf In The Fold' when I started watching it. This episode doesn't hit my list of my personal favorites from the Original series and it hasn't risen up though the ranks of pop culture consciousness in the way that, say, one with the Gorn or the Tholian Web have. So, I was able to come into this episode with relatively fresh eyes. And what we see here is the TOS taking a stab at psychological thriller with a scifi twist. Pun intended.

On an alien pleasure planet, Argelia, where Scotty is accused of murdering women. He's literally caught red-handed with a dead body in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. He has no memory of the crime, and professes his innocence. We have here a haunting coming from the mind of the man who wrote Psycho, Robert Bloch. If that is a pedigree for exploring psychological horror, I don't know what is.

As Scotty maintains his innocence despite ridiculous evidence to the contrary, the true murderer reveals itself to be an energy being that hops from host-to-host killing women and feeding off their fear to sustain itself. Scotty was just its latest vessel on the planet at it hacked it's way through the populous. It revealed itself to be an entity that has traveled from system to system, and took credit for countless murders, and had even visited earth in the past, and that's pretty much where this passable mystery to just third-act nonsense.

You see, I've been doing my best to review the Original Series for what it is, but that's not always easy. This episode had great potential. It had a great setup, flamboyant guest stars, an interesting (and edgy for the time) alien culture that mixed hedonism with mysticism. My issue here isn't with any of the usual low-hanging-fruit complaints about the series — the stylized acting, or the limitations of the budget, or the undercurrent of blatant sexism that permeates the 60s — but the inclusion of Jack the Ripper.

Seriously, every Argelian looked as if they stepped right out of a victorian-era magician's poster.

When the alien entity reveals itself as Jack the Ripper, it lost me. It's weirdly out of place, and seems only to exist to give the audience some kind of context for the entity. But it misses the mark. It's forced. And when the entity leaves its host and takes control of the Enterprise, it goes from weird to worse. A being that lives on terror and fear takes over one of the greatest military weapons ever built by human hands. But what should be terrifying comes across as silly. McCoy gets the crew so doped up to keep them from feeling fear and feeding the entity they sway and giggle at their stations. At that point, I'm just waiting it for 'A Wolf in the Fold' to end.

This is supposed to be about Scotty, but it's not. For an episode focused on the chief engineer, all we really learn about the character is that he can creepily leer at women, and doesn't really give a fig about local customs. We learn that Kirk is fiercely loyal to his crew. We learn that Spock has some weird opinions on the emotions of women. We learn that McCoy has a metric f-ton of drugs aboard the Enterprise, and is not afraid to use them.

"Hey, man, an alien murder thing has, like, control of the ship? Like, groovy, man." — Sulu

Now, I feel like I've just been bashing the Original Series in my last few reviews on this list* and I want to acknowledge that that's not really my intent. They just haven't connected with me.  I have great respect of the Original Series, its creators, its vision, its legacy, and the fictional world it created. The character dynamics of Kirk, Spock and McCoy are among the strongest, and smartest in the history of not just television, but all of storytelling.

But for this adventure, what's the message here? Trust each other? Kirk's always right? Scotty objectifies women? I'm not sure. For me, 'A Wolf in the Fold' lacks a strong central theme that elevates other classic episodes above the limitations of the show.

There are adventures of The Original Crew I love with all my heart. This just wasn't one of them.

--

Next up, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, faces her past in 'The Raven.'

*A reminder, that this isn't my list, but io9's Top 100 Episodes of Star Trek of All Time.

77. Our Man Bashir

"Bashir, Julian Bashir." — Bashir, Julian Bashir

#77, Our Man Bashir, Deep Space Nine, Season 4, Episode 9

Star Trek likes playing with genres. From horror, to whodunnits, to courtroom dramas, to slapstick, to war films. The show(s) thrives when it tries something new. TOS took on gangster films. TNG took on Sherlock Holmes and the Old West. Voyager took on 1940s serials. Each one is a deconstruction of the genre, and putting a Star-Trek-y twist on it. At least, they're a break from the usual Federation fair.  Even when the results are mixed, they're usually interesting when Trek breaks itself out of its norm and allows the actors and creators to stretch their legs a bit and play. In Our Man Bashir, we take a look at the spy genre from the 60s with the title character taking on a jet-setting-super-agent based on a certain franchise known for gadgets, femme-fatals, double-crosses, and world domination.

Julian Bashir likes to play James Bond, a registered trademark of MGM, and we get to go along for the ride. The episode examines the tropes of the Bond films and plays with them. 'Our Man Bashir' is far more interested in character than plot. It's more interested in fun than logic. The technobabble surrounding the transporter accident that trapped the crew in his spy-fantasy isn't important. It's background noise. An excuse to make Sisko a villain of epic proportions. To give O'Brien a falcon-based eyepatch. Kira is a Russian double-agent. Dax is the missing geologist. Worf gets to wear a tux and play cards. It's also an excuse to add genuine stakes to what is essentially Bashir playing a spy-themed adventure game.

Each of the crew trapped in the holodeck are an abstraction of their real personalities and true to their nature, yet there's also an inversion of that. Worf is the bodyguard; the gatekeeper for Dr. Noah, but uses subtlety instead of brute force to subdue Bashir and Garrak. Kira, as the Russian Agent, is the foreigner, but she's seductive and silly instead of her usual serious no-nonsenseness. Dax, as Dr. Honey Bear, is the beautiful scientist, yet unsure of her own sexuality and identity. O'Brien's Falcon is the no-nonsense fixit man, but uses violence to get what he wants. And Sisko is the charismatic leader who likes to give epic, epic speeches, yet cast in the role of the villain. The contrasts are played intentionally over the top, and the results are fun to watch.

"Don't let the glasses and the up hairdo fool you. I'm crazy sexy." — Dr. Honey Bear

Also in that abstraction, we look at Julian, and who he wants to be. His alter-ego allows him to play the hero. From his first appearance, Julian has had this desire to be a hero. He's a romantic, coming to Deep Space Nine to be a pioneer on the edge of Federation space. He's super-intelligent, and too smart for his own good. Throughout his holosuit adventures with Miles, they're constantly playing heroes. World War 2 pilots, viking warriors, soldiers art the Alamo. He's constantly playing out his heroic fantasies. Here he goes against a madman with global ambitions.

Dr. Noah's plan is simple. Activate volcanos around the world with lasers to flood the earth somehow and start civilation anew with a few hand-chosen scientists, artists and mercenaries to build a new human race on Mt. Everest. Did I say simple? Because I meant bugfuck crazy, but not necessarily any crazier than any other Bond villain's plan.  Does Avery Brooks as Dr. Noah enjoy cutting loose and giving a devious villain monolog? You bet he does, folks. Every word he utters is forced out with an excited breath, as if he can't wait to say the next line in his diabolical speech.

Because of the circumstances of the transporter accident that left the physical patters of the crew trapped in the holosuite, if he ends the game, they die. If he leaves the game they die. If a character with a crew member's pattern gets killed, their pattern gets erased.

We get the impression that Julian has played this adventure multiple times. Garrak, who joins Bashir on the adventure, mentions that he's been in the holosuite non-stop since the program arrived. Bashir knows the characters, the plot. Even the outcome. He tells Garrak that the game is rigged so that either Anastasia (Kira) or Dr. Bear (Dax) will die, and he will hook up with the other one. Garrak mentions that Dr. Bashir has been playing for hours, so I can only extrapolate that he's played through several times, trying different techniques to get to the finale. He glides through the steps of the game with ease, careful to change his play through only to make sure everyone lives.

O'Brien get to be a meaney. Get it? Puns are a requirement in Bond-parodies.

Garrak is an interesting companion on Bashir's adventure. We're reminded that Garrak has been the very thing that Bashir wants to be, an intelligence agent. Except Garrak is the real deal. He's infiltrated strongholds. Stolen information from the enemy. Tortured prisoners. Killed without remorse for his country. And he's constantly pointing out the inaccuracy and the lunacy of how espionage is portrayed in Bashir's fantasy. Bashir knows it's silly, and not realistic, he just doesn't care. This is his way to blow off steam and the turn the drama of the Dominion War off for a moment and enjoy himself.

And while Garrak provides kind of anti-Jimminy-Cricket advice to Bashir on how real spies in the real world work, Bashir knows how this fantasy-world works and what's expected of him. The Bond films (and spy television shows) of the era are very much of their time, over-the-top male fantasies with high-tech gadgets and women with both revealing clothing and loose morals. They've evolved into bombastic action films throwing realism out the window in favor of bravado, machismo, and sensationalism.*

More often than not, Star Trek is better at being clever, than funny. And this episode is both a clever look at the spy-genre and ends with a clever twist on it. In order to extend the game long enough for the crew to be rescued — beamed from the holosuite to the Defiant —he presses the big, red doomsday button. He saves the day by letting Dr. Noah destroy the world.

Which is not a thing they taught Garrak about being a spy.

--

Next up, Scotty is accused of murder in 'A Wolf in the Fold.'

*While I loved the Bond films as a kid, they have not aged well. But that's a discussion for another blog.

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.

--

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. 

79. I, Mudd

"We meet again, Kirk. Remember me? I'm the comic relief!" — Harry F'n. Mudd

I, Mudd, The Original Series, Season 2, Episode 8

Much like my review of ‘The Enemy Within,’ I’m really going to attempt to look at this episode through the lens of when it was made, what its intent is, and what they’re trying to say with it. But I’m not sure how successful I'm going to be with that. Because, damn, this episode it completely effing nuts. For the record, that's nuts not in a way that I enjoyed.

Much like the androids who sought to overthrow the galaxy, I just can’t process this episode. I just… I just can’t. It hurts my robot brain. What I find frustrating about that is, the premise of this episode is damned terrifying. The concept of unstoppable, immortal robots who seek to supplement humanity as a step towards galactic conquest is a threat as large as any crew in Star Trek has faced. The cold open involves an android taking control of the Enterprise and delivering the crew to his home planet. He does this having infiltrated the crew, passed as human for weeks, and rigged the ship to blow itself to bits if the crew interfered with its plan. But when the ship arrives as its destination, the crew is beamed down to face hundreds of thousands of the androids.

"You. Know. I. Am. Dane. Jer. Us. Be. Hold. My. Ro. Bot. Guts." — Evil Android Norman

And one Harcourt Fenton Mudd.

And his space-handlebar mustache.

From there the adventure takes a turn for the absurd as Mudd, the ne'er-do-well space swindler that the crew had faced before. Mudd's a fan-favorite, but I don't get him. The characterization and appearance is over-the-top, scenery-chewing, wtf-is-happening and oddly out of place in the Star Trek universe. All he does for me is heighten the stylized nature of the show. While Mudd's appearance should provide a counterbalance to the dangerous nature of the threat, all it does is work to undermine it. The second Mudd appears on screen, all real danger gets thrown out the window. Kirk goes from concern to amused. The situation degenerates quickly from oh-shit-we're-all-going-to-die to oh-for-the-love-of...

Mudd prances around declaring himself Emperor, and even has a robot version of his cartoonish shrew ex-wife he can boss around, who's played with subtlety worthy of the Flintstones. The robots try to please their new human masters by provideing them with their heart's desires. Scotty gets a workshop. Checkov gets vomen to manhandle. McCoy gets an advanced medical bay. Uhura is tempted by immortal beauty in a way that is not in the slightest way horribly sexist.*

Everyone is given what they want except Kirk, who just wants to boss people around. And denied of that, he decides to ruin everyone else's fun. Kirk is really only happy when Kirk's in charge. I'm kidding, of course. Not even Kirk is that shallow. Shatner maybe, but not Kirk. The Captain sees the android planet for what it is, a prison. A nice prison, and one with very nice toys, but still a prison. Kirk knows he can't take on the androids head-on, so they devise another plan. One that does not compute.

Not in the slightest.

They defeat the machines with silliness. Bonkers, Laugh-in-style nonsense is how they define humanity for the robots in hopes that it'll overload the androids logic circuits. It’s a completely bananas plan. And it goes on forever. Like, way beyond what could be expected for either the androids or the audience to stand. The crew speak contradictions, dance to no music, profess love and hate at the same time and confuse the androids (and me) into submission. Seriously, this could not —not — end fast enough.

"You can danze iv you vant to. You can leave your friendz behind!" — Ensign Checkov

Now's the part of the review where I say something nice about the episode. All I can really think of is that it's over and I never have to watch it again. It's too harsh to say I hated this episode, but, lord, I did not enjoy it.

Yet, this episode is inarguably iconic. So much so that the premise that robots can be defeated by paradoxes and illogic has permeated everything from Futurama** and Portal 2.*** It's now a much-used trope of science fiction. Even if someone has never seen Star Trek, they probably know about this episode. If they don't, they probably know. That. Ro. Bots. Talk. Like. This.†

So, who am I to argue with history?

--

Up next, Beverly Crusher is at the center of a mystery in Remember Me.

--

*I lied, it is. 

** In all fairness, there’s not much in science fiction that Futurama hasn’t hit upon, but the point is, this episode is preposterously famous.

*** Portal 2 a thing that I love, btw. 

† But, meh, so does Shatner. 

80. The Wounded

The Wounded, The Next Generation, Season 4, Episode 12

'The Wounded' marks the first appearance of the Cardassians, a race that would become a huge part of the Trek mythology. I think back on how far the Klingons have come since their first appearance in 'Errand of Mercy' and look at the depiction of the Cardassians from their introduction to their final appearance, and am surprised how fully formed they were from 'The Wounded.' Aside from the aesthetics of their uniforms, they're pretty much the same here as they are when Ben Sisko takes command of Deep Space Nine a few years later. It doesn't hurt that Marc Alaimo is playing the lead Cardassian here, as he would go on to play one of the most prominent villains in Trek's history.*

Though this was the first and last appearance of these bitchin' Cardassian helmet-things.

The Cardassians are presented as an empire with enough military might to threaten Starfleet. A smaller empire than the Klingons and Romulans, perhaps, but they're the best and worst of those two races. As smart as Romulans, as merciless as Klingons, but without the honor that keeps the latter in check. They are reptilian in appearance, calculating, cruel, and brutal. They will enslave an entire planet and justify their actions because they need to preserve their Empire. In short, they are everything the Federation to are not. But the Federation isn't what it used to be.

With their fleet decimated by the Borg attack, what we have is a Federation about to enter into a conflict they may not win. The war with the Cardassians had raged long enough for Picard to tell a war story from his time aboard his previous command, the Stargazer.**

Picard is ordered to keep the peace at all costs, and has to make some hard choices. He has to hunt down one of Starfleet's own, as Captain Ben Maxwell has gone rogue and attacked Cardassian targets. This could lead the Federation back into war with a ruthless enemy. As a show of good faith, Picard takes on a Cardassian delegation, who are constantly trying to get Picard to compromise Maxwell and let them blow him and his ship to smithereens.

If nothing else, this episode has a lot of sitting and talking. 

To do that, he enlists the help of one of his crew who served with Maxwell during the war, Miles Edward O'Brien. And it turns out this petty officer is far more interesting than a guy that pushes buttons in the transporter room. O'Brien was Maxwell's tactical officer during the Cardassian War, which make this 'simple enlisted man' more complex than he'd been so far. He turns our to be clever, and resourceful.

As O'Brien is not an officer, so I can only infer that his time as a Tactical Officer aboard the Rutledge was a war-time field-commission. It also makes his position on the Enterprise a bit strange. Transporter Chief seems like a demotion from Tactical. Perhaps O'Brien sought the honor of serving on the flagship. Perhaps he needed an assignment that was less intense than Tactical, even if that assignment was on a ship in constant danger. Miles is not shy about his feelings about the Cardassians. He's not a fan. He's seen the horrors of war, and he holds the Cardassians responsible for the man he had to become to survive it. We also see the consequences of families aboard the Enterprise as O'Brien tries to process his experiences with his new wife, Keiko.

But Miles knows Maxwell, and he uses every trick up his sleeve to help Picard bring a peaceful end to Maxwell's one-man war against the Cardassians. As Picard and crew attempt to figure it out, the Cardassian representative, Gul Macet, is constantly angling for the means to end Maxwell. Assuring Picard that the only way to attain peace is through Maxwell's end.

And to do that? Endless, endless meetings. 

Maxwell is presented as a contemporary of Picard's, perhaps his equal. Maxwell is smart, determined, and pulls off some tactical maneuvers that sets him up as a formidable opponent. He commands the USS Rutledge, a ship as advanced as the Enterprise. More importantly, Maxwell is a believer. He's a man on a self-appointed mission to expose the Cardassians as the duplicitous snakes they are. He suspects that the Cardassians are using the ceasefire as an excuse to rebuild their navy for a new assault. Maxwell blows up a science station because he believes the Cardassians are using it to spy on the Federation. He assaults a Cardassian civilian freighter because he thinks the Cardassians are secretly using them to resupply their war efforts.

Picard has to stop Maxwell, and there appears to be no easy way out of it. What makes Picard's job that much harder is that Maxwell is right. Maxwell is a man who has suffered loss. Perhaps he's one a mission to avenge the death of his wife during the war. Perhaps he's attempting suicide via death-by-cop. Perhaps he is doing exactly what he says he is, exposing the Cardassians. The truth turns out to be a mix of all of these things, and it makes Maxwell a fascinating antagonist.

Picard has to choose between doing what's right, and serving the greater good and keeping the peace. He can't even entertain Maxwell's suggestions to investigate the Cardassians supply ships because if Picard has proof, he'll have no option but to drag the Federation back into a costly war.  It's a hard choice, and arguable if he made the right one.

--

Next up, it's Kirk vs. Robots and dudes with handlebar mustaches I, Mudd.



*Note, I haaaaate Marc Alaimo's Gul Dukat with a fiery passion, but not in the way that the creators of Deep Space Nine intended. For more on why he's terrible, please check out my review of #88 on the countdown.

**If I have complaints about the episode they're mostly inconsequential. The timeline suggests that the Federation and the Cardassians have been at war up until a year ago, but it's never mentioned in the first two seasons. As Picard tells his Stargazer story, it implies the war has been going on for quite quite a while. Other than the forehead makeup, the Cardassians themselves look terrible, and went through a much needed uniform upgrade before their next appearance. 

What This Is and What I'm Doing

When io9 posted their list of the Top 100 Episodes of Star Trek as voted on by fans, I took it as an excuse to rewatch me some Trek and to pontificate about it. I've just finished the first 20 on the list, and I'd like to take a moment to reflect. As a reminder, this is not my list. And though I love Star Trek, it is not sacred to me. There are some episodes that I just didn't connect with. Some that have been entertaining but flawed. And some that I've loved.

I'm making a few assumptions with this blog. I'm assuming, dear readers, that you've seen the episodes in question. I haven't been doing extensive recaps of the episodes, and haven't really dived into extensive descriptions of the characters and their general motivations. If you would like to see more of that, please reach out to me and let me know.

Here's the list of episodes that I've reviewed so far:

#100 Bride of Chaotica — A brilliantly madcap episode that pits Voyager against black and white serial villains.

#99 Day of the Dove — Kirk vs. the most bad ass of all bad asses, Kang.

#98 Paradise — Ben Sisko faces off against a cult leader on an alien world.

#97 Borderland, Cold Station 12 & The Augments — The Enterprise stretches an adventure that is a love-letter to Wrath of Khan a little too thin over three episodes.

#96 Lineage — A great character study of B'Elanna and Tom, if you care about either of those people.

#95 The Most Toys — Data is abducted into slavery by a crazy person.

#94 Disaster — Deanna Troi is placed in charge of the Enterprise. Hilarity ensues.

#93 Future's End — A time travel Voyager tale that couldn't end fast enough for me.

#92 The Magnificent Ferengi — A Quark comedy romp that's more entertaining than it sounds.

#91 The Killing Game — The Voyager crew fights Nazis, for some reason that eludes me.

#90 The Booby Trap — Geordi falls for a holodeck physicist, and that's his fantasy? Really?

#89 The Court Martial — Kirk is the manliest man ever to be put on trial for dereliction of duty.

#88 Favor the Bold & Sacrifice of Angels — A two-part microcosm of the best and worst that Deep Space Nine has to offer.

#87 Deja Q — Q returns to annoy the crew of the Enterprise to great effect.

#86 Memorial — The Voyager crew develops PTSD from an alien war they never participated in.

#85 Little Green Men — Quark, Rom and Nog get blasted back in time to 1947 Roswell, New Mexico and hilarity does not ensue. It tries, really hard though.

#84 Parallels — Worf bounces from reality to reality in a mystery that's solved in the episode's title.

#83 Timeless — Harry and Chakotay travel back in time to prevent the destruction of Voyager. I'm not convinced this is the best course of action.

#82 Conundrum — The crew of the Enterprise-D get their minds erased and thrown into a war they have no memory of.

#81 The Enemy Within — Where we get two Kirks for the price of one thanks to a transporter accident.

As we look towards the next twenty, I'm excited about some of the episodes on the list. Thanks for reading, and let's watch some Trek.

#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.'

#82, Conundrum, The Next Generation, Season Five, Episode 14

"Wait. What's happening? I have zero idea." — Jean-Luc Picard

I'm of two minds of this episode.

On the one hand, hot damn, 'Conundrum' is just great. I mentioned in the previous post about taking the familiar and putting them in an unfamiliar surrounding, and in this episode we get an inversion of that motif. We take the familiar setting and put new characters in it. Well, not really new, per se. We still have Worf, Riker, Picard and Data, but their memories have been erased. They have no idea who they are, or what their purpose was. Just a bunch of people on a giant space ship, wearing snazzy uniforms, and wondering whiskey tango foxtrot is going on.

Too often we've seen mystery set up on Star Trek where we the viewing audience is a step or twelve ahead of the crew (for example, 'Parallels'), but here, we're just as clueless as the crew themselves. As the crew realizes none of them know who they are, there's an unfamiliar face on the bridge of the Enterprise. Commander MacDuff, the ship's First Officer. Whuuuuuuuuuut? And it's on like Ferengi Kong.  We know that something is horribly wrong, but the characters do not. MacDuff is a metaphorical bomb and we're just waiting to for him to go off. As he manipulates the crew, thwarting their attempts to get to truth, we're just waiting for the payoff.

The clues are well paced as the crew pieces together what's going on, with bread crumbs of information doled out in tiny chunks. The Enterprise is supposedly on a secret mission to take out an enemy base to end a bloody war. The enemy has a new secret weapon, which explains the memory loss. The Enterprise burns through the enemy lines, they grossly overpower their supposed mortal enemy.

There are some great character moments as the crew figure out who they are. What we have here are the characters stripped down to their cores. Riker is pure swagger. Ro is impulsive, looking to make her own rules. Deanna states the obvious. Beverly is there, I guess. Data tries to figure out who and what he is. Worf is pure warrior. Picard is wisdom incarnate. The Captain has some great verbal explorations of the moral dilemma of his mission. When they encounter their enemy, they discover  they're no match to them, he doubts the moral certainty of the conflict.

The episode is not without fun. Data and Geordie wonder if Data is unique or part of a ship's standard equipment, which is a fascinating concept. Ro and Riker put aside their usual animosity and replace it with amorousness.* And Worf thinks he's captain for a good chunk of the first act and no one bothers to stop him.

When everyone realizes that no one has their memories, Worf decides he's captain, because why not. With no one with any information to contradict him, he takes charge. His instincts tell him that they've been attacked and he starts ordering the rest of the crew to get the ship battle-ready. Picard shows patience and diplomacy as the young Klingon takes over his ship, and immediately slides into the role of the experienced advisor. It's great to see the contrast between the characters. Worf's single-mindedness and Picard's big picture view. It's the difference between inexperience and experience.  Worf's mea culpa to Picard is great when he discovers that he's the junior-most bridge officer.

"One day, I'll be Captain of my own ship, I swear. Computer, activate crowdfunding." — 'Captain' Worf. 

As they make it to their destination, the mystery is revealed, the MacDuff has been manipulating the Enterprise into destroying the base of his species' enemies, ending their war using the Enterprise's vastly superior firepower. Picard can't reconcile what he's been ordered to do and decides to talk to their 'enemy' rather than blow the shit out of their space station. When MacDuff forces his the issue, the crew stops him from murdering thousands using the Enterprise as his weapon. MacDuff shows his true colors, and those colors are alien and gross.

Apparently MacDuff belonged to the same species of  aliens as the ones from 'They Live.'

On the other hand, holy crap, the alien plot is just damned nonsensical. If they can take down the crew of the Enterprise in one shot, why not replace all of them with their own people? Why just the one guy? Why put your agent as the first officer and not the captain? The aliens that take over the ship, the Satarrans, are supposedly a hundred years behind the Enterprise in technology, but can reprogram Data and the ship's computer? The structure of the mystery is well done, but the reveal is a huge let down. and the episode begins with Troi beating Data a chess, a thing that no one ever would find plausible. However, I'm willing to give it a lot of latitude because the rest of the episode is so strong.

What's the verdict? In my opinion — and it's the official opinion of this blog — the strengths of 'Conundrum' far outweigh its weaknesses. So, in the end, 'Conundrum' is great. Flawed, but great.

--

Next up, we get two Kirks for the price of one within 'The Enemy Within.'

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*They get it on, is what I'm saying. 

#83, Timeless, Voyager, Season 5, Episode 6

An episode so time-travely they borrow Doctor Who's time vortex. 

In this episode of Voyager we get a glimpse of an alternate future, where an aged Harry Kim and Chakotay travel fifteen years back in time to undo a mistake that cost the crew of Voyager their lives. They're gruffer and grayer than we know them. They've turned their backs on the Federation, committed treason, stolen a ship and a piece of rare Borg tech, and are racing against the clock to send a message back in time to save their crew. Also, they have Captain Geordi LaForge, commanding the Galaxy Class starship Challenger, on their tail.

Harry and Chakotay have a confederate in this. Chakotay's girlfriend, Tessa, who's perfectly willing to die to help Chakotay. She faces death at the hands of the Challenger's torpedoes with a kind of blasé attitude that makes on wonder what kind of effed up relationship she has with Chakotay. Throughout Trek in it's many incarnations, there's this kind of detached calm when things are blowing up around people. Seriously, next time you watch an episode look for the 'I'm-just-doing-my-job' attitude that comes from extras and guest-stars in the show. It's kind of eerie. Tessa goes about her business as if changing time and exploding are perfectly normal.

The best moment in 'Timeless' comes at the beginning, when Voyager crashes into a planet and gets engulfed by a glacier. For a show (and series) where a lot of space action happens off screen to save money (i.e. holding on Tom Paris, for example, when he announces, "The enemy is exploding. It's spectacular! I wish you could see this!"), it's nice to see a big moment in the show. The crash looks great, and the special effects hold up well lo these many years later. The image of Chakotay and Harry, decked out in space parkas finding the englaciered Voyager is well done, and immediately sets up a the mystery. And like every mystery in the post-Seven-of-Nine era of Voyager, it's solved by Borg-technobabble. Considering how effing magic the Borg's technology is, it's astounding they haven't conquered the galaxy yet. More on that later when we get to more Borgy Voyager adventures later in this countdown.

'Let it go. Let it go.' — Elsa Janeway

Also, it's nice to see that Geordi gets a promotion to Captain in the future. It's always a treat for me when the series cross over with one another, even if it's for a glorified cameo. Although, for whatever reason, it looks like Geordi is commanding his ship from his ready room. I'm going to guess that reason is budgetary. It's a nice reminder that Voyager, despite it's premise of being lost thousands of lightyears away from home is still part of the larger fabric of Trek mythology. I've never been a fan of the extended universe for Trek. I've read a few of the novels — don't judge, I went through massive withdrawals when TNG went of the air — and find them lacking. None of the video games have ever caught my attention. So, it's fun to get to see where the next generation Enterprise crew land in the future, and fill in some of the gaps between the end of the series and 'All Good Things.' It carries massive good will to Voyager for me, and fills in the connective tissue of the universe.

"Though you might be tempted, don't read Star Trek novels." — Captain LaForge of the U.S.S. Reading Rainbow

Now, if there's one thing that Voyager, as a show, can do, it's ignore the crap out of temporal paradoxes. I'd love to see a quantitative analysis if the show, breaking down the number of episodes that deal with mucking with time as a concept. We've seen two in this list alone just from Voyager. A quick look at the list, and we've got another 15 or so that deal with time travel, or alternate timelines in some capacity, not counting any Temporal Cold War shenanigans from Enterprise. And in this episode, logic gets shoved right out an airlock as Harry and Chakotay race against the clock to save Voyager in the past. When they succeed in sending their message back in time, they erase the timeline that enabled them to save Voyager. Janeway even shrugs off the paradox with an "Eh, fuck it. Time paradoxes. What you gonna do?" I'm paraphrasing the captain, of course, but that's the gist of how 'Timeless' ends.

Then, we have a message from elder Harry Kim from an alternate future addressing his former self, and letting him know what his hubris might have cost the crew. Time logic problems aside, I wish the moment had had more gravitas. Part of the problem with putting our heroes outside their norm is that we don't get to see these new incarnations of the crew fully fleshed out. As elder Harry Kim, actor Garret Wang growls his way through the episode and I never got the sense that he was playing the truth of his situation. There are hints of PTSD and survivor's guilt, but the episode also has to shove in space battles and slip-stream-drive-technobabble, too. This truncates the character moments, and making me wish we had more time with this reality.

If there's a reoccurring theme in the episodes that I've seen on this list, it seems to be taking our characters out of their normal roles and throwing them in a situation, environment or timeline they find wholly out of the norm for a crew of a starship/space station. We've seen it in 'Parallels,' 'Little Green Men,' 'Bride of Chaotica,' 'The Killing Game,' and 'Future's End.' I'm making an observation, here, not a judgement, but that's almost a third of the episodes on the list so far. I can see the appeal from a creative standpoint. It shakes things up both for the audience and the writers and performers.  I'm going to keep an eye on this trend as the countdown continues, but for now, I'm just going to welcome 'Timeless' to that list.

--

Next up, the crew of the Enterprise-D face a 'Conundrum.'

#84, Parallels, The Next Generation, Season 7, Episode 11

"Ahead full! Maximum Worf!" — Worf

I'm not going to lie. I was worried about this episode. Worried because when I announced that 'Little Green Men' was on the docket, I also announced how much I liked it. But when I revisited that episode, I realized that it didn't hold up to my memory. Part of this is the nature of comedy. Much of comedy relies on surprise. A set-up followed by misdirection. A classic structure of expectation and reversal. A third phrasing of that thing. A big part of my reaction to that episode was that it just wasn't all that funny. I've always found Trek better at being 'amusing' than 'funny.' 'Little Green Men' was just a little too-not-at-all-that-funny for my tastes.

That being said, I really, really remembered liking 'Parallels' and I was worried it would fall short of my expectations. After watching, I'm pleased to say it's still a great deal of fun, as Worf bounces from parallel reality to parallel reality, drifting further and further from the Enterprise he knows. As he shifts, the changes in his surroundings go from subtle (the cake is a different color!) to drastic (Riker is Captain!). It's one of those episodes that takes our familiar characters and puts them outside their comfort zones. What is at first contributed to a concussion from a bat'leth tournament messing with Worf's memories quickly escalates into him realizing that he's no longer in his home reality. Worf is lost, unsure of where he is or what's happening thanks to some shuttle accident and Geordi's visor, or something. The technobabble and technobabble solution aren't not really the problems here. Worf's motivations as a character are.

Worf rolls with the changes fairly well at first, assuming his memory is suspect thanks to the aforementioned blow to the head. But, history keeps changed around him. And not little things.  Deanna Troi is his suddenly his wife. Picard is dead at the hands of the Borg. Data has blue eyes. Dr. Crusher is no longer the Chief Medical Officer. Their combadges are slightly different. It's madness.

"Come, sit down, embace this new me-filled reality." — Deanna Troi

What I find interesting is that the reality in which Worf finally finds himself is a fairly sweet one. He's gotten a promotion to first officer of the Enterprise and is happily married to Deanna Troi with two supposedly beautiful children (we never see them). It's not until he realizes that in this reality, his son, Alexander, was never born, that Worf's drive to return home kicks in. Sirtis does a great job of handling Deanna's complex emotional roller coaster as she realizes that Worf not only has no memory of their relationship, the man she knew and loved is gone. Replaced with a man from another world. It's a completely weird thing to ask of an actor, but I think it's handled well.

If I have one major complaint about the episode (I have second but it isn't critical, and is super-nerdy) it's that the episode spends a great deal of time establishing what is essentially a non-mystery. The audience is so far ahead of the characters in this episode on what's going on, it's painful to watch the them catch up. They spend way too much time with the setup and explaining to the audience what a parallel reality is. It's a fairly well-known science-fiction trope and I feel we could skip a fair amount of this and get straight to the emotional conflict in the episode. I say a non-mystery because the reveal of what's going on is in the damned title. Doesn't take a warp-engine specialist to put two and two here.

The episode is very character heavy, where a man who is normally sure of himself, questions everything around him. There's not much driving the story forward, past the mystery we already know the answer to. So, the episode lumbers a bit. We have new, shiny things to look at, but it does drag. There are a few red herrings. Cardassians tamper with a space telescope, and aggressive Bajorans strike against intruders to their territory, but neither pay off in a satisfactory way. It's not until the barriers of reality start to break down that we have an actual threat to deal with, and Worf has any kind of decision to make.

My second complaint about the episode is far more nit-picky and about the Son of Mogh himself. In this episode, Worf comes across as the Klingoniest-Klingon-to-ever-Klingon-a-Klingon. And it bugs me. The episode starts off with Worf returning from a bat'leth tournament, which sounded an awful lot like an Olympics where competitors get impaled. Or, I imagine something akin to MMA, but with giant knives. But not only did he compete, he won with Grand Champion standing. I call shenanigans.*

Worf going off to a bat'leth tournament as a spectator I totally buy. He wasn't raised by Klingons and Worf has always struggled to connect to his heritage in a meaningful way. Worf running off to learn what it means to be a Klingon is a reoccurring character theme. But for him to go to this tournament and win, I just don't buy it. Having competed in martial arts tournaments (I have, don't laugh), I can tell you the people that win those trophies on that level are preternaturally gifted, train non-stop or both.

Worf is a capable officer and warrior, but for him to be competitive amongst natively-raised Klingon warriors, living in a society where competition pushes each of them to the extremes is not credible. I get that we need a mcguffin for him to recognize what reality he's in, and what's changed. As a symbol of the changing realities, his grand master trophy changing from 3rd place to 9th to a participatory ribbon certainly works. It just stands out as being a little too Klingoniest-Klingon to me.

As he swapped realities, it would have been great to have seen Worf in a wind up in a place where Klingons ruled the Federation, which may have been a real emotional challenge for Worf. Here we'd have a character who's struggled with connecting with his heritage, and then have to choose to give it up in order to save reality.

While it's fun to subtly change things around Worf, things never drift too far from the Enterprise-D we know and love. The changes aren't really that drastic. Worf pops into a reality where Wesley Crusher is the tactical officer (one once again questions the wisdom of Starfleet HR). And it would have been great to have Dr. Kate Pulaski show up as medical chief in a cameo. I love that there's something meta here. It's like we're looking at the series in alternate timelines. It's almost as if they're embracing the fan rumors/theories that Stewart wasn't going to return for season three after 'Best of Both Worlds.' Or looking at what if Wil Wheaton had stayed on with the series to become Lt. Crusher?

"Ugh. Pressing space buttons is so beneath my preternatural genius." — Tactical Officer, Lt. Wesley Crusher 

The mind, it boggles.

If anything, I wish they'd gone wilder with it. And weirder with it. We get hints of it with a reality where the Borg have conquered the Federation. When Worf's shuttle takes off to seal the anomaly, it's threatened by a panicked and mountain-man-bearded Riker. He's so desperate to do anything to keep from returning to his nightmare that he'd rather face the breakdown of all existence than the Borg. There's a surreal moment, when New-Reality-Riker is forced to kill Mountain-Bearded-Riker, but it's soon passed. If we had gotten to the answer to the mystery sooner, we might have had a chance to explore some of the more extreme tangents in Enterprise reality. As it is, it's a slow start and a rushed ending.

"The Borg are everywhere! There's no shaving cream or hair gel left in our reality! We won't go back!" — Riker

It's still a fun adventure, but I find myself pondering what might have been. I can't decide if that's appropriate or ironic considering the nature of story.

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Next up, a 'Timeless' adventure with the Voyager crew. So, the Voyager crew and time travel? Again?

We'll see.

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*I wanted to use the Klingon word for 'shenanigans' here, but, sadly there isn't one.