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. 

#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.'

#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.

---

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

We'll see.

---

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

#88, 'Favor the Bold' & 'Sacrifice of Angels,' Deep Space Nine, Season Six, Episodes 5 & 6

I seem to remember the retaking of Deep Space Nine in Favor the Bold and Sacrifice of Angels as being a big moment in the mythology of the show. When Sisko takes back Deep Space Nine from the enemy. We're deep into a war with the Dominion, and the Federation is losing. Losing territory and ships to a vastly superior opposing force, they're outgunned, outnumbered, and falling into a pattern of attack and retreat.

Lives have been lost. Morale is low. And Sisko has decided it's time for some let's-blow-the-shit-out-of-something-big action. A go-for-broke plan that will strike the heart of the Dominion and provide the Federation with a much needed victory. They have to force a victory, or lose the war. He puts together a task force to take back his former command, Deep Space Nine.

Sone where in this armada, I like to think Picard is making it so.

As I re-watched these, I came to realize that this two-episode arc represent the best and the worst of what Deep Space Nine was. As if they are a microcosm of the series as a whole. The episodes are wildly uneven, oscillating between good and bad almost from scene to scene. Deep Space Nine is a show I like (a lot), but I have to admit that there are some elements that just never clicked for me.

On the one hand, we have Avery Brooks, who, once again, rocks it like a boss. Sisko's a man with his back against the wall, making the hard decisions. He's passionate. Earnest. Bold. And takes zero shit from zero people, aliens, or cosmic beings from another reality.

The Dominion are (with exceptions noted below) the perfect villains for the series. I'd described them in a previous post as a totalitarian anti-Federation. They're everything the Federation isn't. They seek conquest, not exploration. Jeffery Combs' Weyoun is fantastic. The show takes chances, swinging for the fences. When they decided to make the major through line of the show the Dominion War, they went for it. Throughout the series, Deep Space Nine has presented space combat on a scale not seen since the Battle of Endor, and it did it on television. Repeatedly. Certainly not on a scale seen in any other iteration of Trek.

We have great character moments. Miles and Julian bonding. Quark setting aside his self-interest for the greater good. Even Rom shines in a rare instance of not being completely annoying. Also, Worf son of Mogh. 'Nuff said.

And then, on the other end of the spectrum (for the record, the bad one), we have the prophets calling Ben "The Sisko." We have the character known only as Female Changeling, who apparently cannot have a line without saying the words 'solids' or 'great link.' We have Odo's, ugh, love affair with Major Kira, which has always felt forced and awkward. We have the logic problems of both the Bajoran gods and the Dominion changeling rules. And, then, we have Gul Dukat.

Gul Du-fucking-kat.

I swear I got eye strain from rolling them too much every time Gul Dukat was on the screen. I loathe him, but not in the way I'm meant to. He's smarmy, arrogant, self-agrandizing, and speaks with with an almost operatic rhythm — where every sentence builds in volume and intensity and is then followed by a soft coda. Once I identified this, it drove me absolutely mad. Dukat is, perhaps, the Star Trek villain with the most screen time of any other. In fairness, I didn't do any kind of quantitative analysis on that, I'm just going by memory. But holy crap is there a lot of Dukat on this show.

"Was it something I said?" -- Gul Dukat. "Pretty much everything you've ever said, ever, yes." — Me

Over the course of the series, he's been portrayed as a cold-blooded mass murderer, a misunderstood tyrant, a crazy person, a patriot, revolutionary, a cult leader, a messiah, and a vessel to evil gods. And every time he's on the screen, I'm just checking my watch until he's done being terrible. He grates me. He's mustache-twirly terrible. He stands out as cartoonishly broad and over-the-top in a show with alien forehead makeup and spaceships going kler-splode. That says something. He strives to have the gravitas to be Sisko's equal, and the failure at that is palpable. But, they keep using him. And his use keeps giving me eye strain. Ow.

However, the worst part of this particular Niner adventure is that it ends with the most blatant (and literal) deus ex machina you could possibly imagine. Sisko's bold plan has failed. The Federation strike force is unable to break the Dominion lines, except for one line ship, the Defiant. The minefield that has kept the Dominion re-enforcements at bay is taken down. Sisko and the crew of the Defiant sail into the worm hole to face off against two-thousand-plus Jem'Hadar warships alone. Their sailing into their deaths in a hollow sacrifice. They don't even say anythig like, 'we're going to technobabble the warp core and collapse the wormhole so that the Jam'Hadar can't get through and save the alpha quadrant with our noble sacrifice!' Instead, they lock phasers, and calmly accept their own deaths at the hands of alien weapony. Then, the Bajoran Prophets pull Sisko out of his reality and into their temporal dream state.

The interaction with the Bajoran Prophets is just painful. They seem to interrupt the action for the sake of interrupting. Call Sisko "the Sisko" for no apparent reason other than to just annoy me. They ramble about a 'game,' which I infer to mean the writers aren't sure what to do with these alien beings in the long term. They are dismissive of Sisko's needs until he makes an old-fashioned empassioned speech. Sisko begs them for a miracle, and they provide it. The Dominion fleet vanishes from Existence, and the Defiant returns to Deep Space Nine. Sisko and crew return the triumpant heroes to the Station, and the war goes on.

For both good and ill.

---

Next up, it's a trip to the continuum with Déjà Q.