There is something worse than the experience of being transparently emotionally manipulated by a television show: the experience of knowing that a television show thinks that it is emotionally manipulating you, but realizing that it isn't working. Jean-Luc and Soji have escaped to Nepenthe, adoptive homeworld of the Troi-Riker (henceforth: Triker) household. Lots of exposition happens in which Soji begins to comes to terms with the fact that she is an android, while the Trikers' daughter figures out where the planet with two moons and lightning is by texting the next door neighbor (who, from the look of it, probably lives about fifty miles away). Meanwhile, La Sirena has abandoned Elnor on the Romulan Reclamation Center. They won't get very far, though, as we learn via flashback that, after using a mind meld (finally! a certified Vulcan) to give Doctor Jurati a "Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2" style vision of what will happen if anyone ever builds another synthetic lifeform, Commodore Oh forced Doctor Jurati to consume a glowing Flintsone's vitamin which will allow the Romulans to track her anywhere she goes. A ridiculous game of cat-and-mouse ensues in which a) boyfriend Romulan is too stupid to realize that La Sirena knows he is tracking them b) Captain Rios is just stupid enough to think that Raffi is the one the Romulans are tracking and c) Doctor Jurati makes the odd decision that, while murdering her one time lover for the sake of Commodore Oh's cause was totally reasonable, letting these people she met three days ago get followed by a creepy Romulan boyband singer is a bridge too far. She poisons herself, and that somehow manages to neutralize the signal. Back on the Reclamation Center, Elnor decapitates a few more Tal Shi'ar/Zhat Vhash/let's just call them stormtroopers because they can't aim very well. Not while they are torturing Hugh by making him watch as they execute his favorite XBs. That would be too useful. But definitely after that. Lots of decapitations after that. Elnor fights Rizzo. Rizzo kills Hugh. Elnor activates a special beacon that, I guess, is going to call Seven-of-Nine to the rescue. If this all sounds a little to twee, it's because it is very twee. That is not why this episode is terrible.
This is the episode in which we are given our promised brief view into the post-Enterprise lives of William Thomas Riker and Deanna Troi, daughter-by-extension of the fifth house, heir (I assume) to the holy rings of Betazed. The dialog these two titans of Trek are given is among the most wooden written for a series characterized by its wooden dialog. That is not why this episode is terrible.
There are two reasons why this episode is terrible. They are, in ascending order of egregiousness:
While trying to help Soji come to terms with the fact that she's not "real" (where "real" somehow means "conceived via sex") and that "real is not necessarily better," Deanna reveals to us that, in addition to the daughter we see, she and Will once had a son named Thad. Thad died from a very rare disease that is usually treatable. "You just clone a something and something something poistronic matrix something. But, when Thad needed it, there were not positronic matrices, and no one was allowed to build any more. You see, Soji: real isn't always better." Her closing argument for why the ban on synthetic life forms was wrong is that it prevented sex-based lifeforms from using their positronic brains as testing grounds for medical technology. "I really wish my friend Data were still alive; if I'd used him as a lab rat, it might have saved my son." I do not understand how we are supposed to root for Jean-Luc's crusade if the best argument anyone can muster for the value of synthetic life is that it is useful for the fulfillment of sex-based life.
That is the episode's second most egregious offense.
The most egregious offense came in the opening credit sequence. As every week, cellos and flutes mingled with images of grapevines, Borg technology, and, I guess, dividing cells to remind us of what has been lost and what may yet be reclaimed. We see the list of the show's stars, and then, to much giddiness, the title card flashes "Special guest star: Jonathan Frakes." That is all. In case you skimmed my review to this point, Marina Sirtis was also in this episode. She gets billed in the closing credits. That is not acceptable. I don't care how few lines she has (as far as I can tell, she has at least as many as Frakes), Sirtis is one of the Interstellar Seven, the cast that defined Star Trek for my entire childhood. If she is on your show, she gets top billing. A few years ago, I stumbled into the opportunity to hear Sirtis speak live at Emeral City Comic Con. I say "stumbled" because, when I bought my ticket, LeVar Burton was scheduled to speak instead. He bowed out; Marina Sirtis stepped in. I am not proud to say that I was originally disappointed. She was the one of the Seven I was least interested in seeing live. My priorities were, of course, wrong, and I'm glad she came. She was an animated, hilarious, and very entertaining speaker. She loved us at least as much as we loved her. What little in-real-life reading I have done about celebrities since then has led me to believe that, of all of the Next Generation cast, she is the one you want to have a drink with. I bring all of this up by way of introducing the following paraphrased exchange:
Fan: "Can you say anything about what it was like to work with Sir Patrick Stewart?"
Sirtis: "You mean Old Baldy? Do you suppose Sir Old Baldy ever gets asked what it was like to work with me..." followed by a delightful story about working on the Next Generation that I cannot remember, because that's not the point.
Marina Sirtis endured seven years of being forced to wear that uniform only to have her contribution to the series summed up in the future timeline of All Good Things as "she died, which made Worf and Riker fight about who should have married her." Sure: I have heard the urban legend that Gates McFadden did a much better job advocating for her character and that is why Doctor Crusher is a more developed character (I have also heard that that is why Gates McFadden was temporarily fired to make way for Diane Muldaur). I don't care. Marina Sirtis shouldn't have had to advocate for her character. None of her male coworkers did, and they all got interesting story lines. Geordi got two separate story lines about how he principally pursues romantic relationships through stalking, and yet we still accept him as the galaxy's bestest friend sight unseen. And yet, in spite of all the indignities, Marina Sirtis persists as part of Star Trek's pantheon and deserves to be treated as such. Getting Marina Sirtis on a Star Trek episode should be a Big Deal. It is a Big Deal. There may be less patriarchal explanations for the way this week's credit's played. I will be the first to admit that I don't know how SAG contracts work. I would have an easier time swallowing that if the show hadn't already gone out of its way to point out that heroes "aren't in the habit of consulting lawyers before they do the right thing." Star Trek has made a lot of hay over the decades by convincing people that it is socially important in the real world. This week, that pill got just ever so slightly bigger and harder to swallow.
I'm not mad, Star Trek. I'm just disappointed. I am also mad.
This is the episode in which we are given our promised brief view into the post-Enterprise lives of William Thomas Riker and Deanna Troi, daughter-by-extension of the fifth house, heir (I assume) to the holy rings of Betazed. The dialog these two titans of Trek are given is among the most wooden written for a series characterized by its wooden dialog. That is not why this episode is terrible.
There are two reasons why this episode is terrible. They are, in ascending order of egregiousness:
While trying to help Soji come to terms with the fact that she's not "real" (where "real" somehow means "conceived via sex") and that "real is not necessarily better," Deanna reveals to us that, in addition to the daughter we see, she and Will once had a son named Thad. Thad died from a very rare disease that is usually treatable. "You just clone a something and something something poistronic matrix something. But, when Thad needed it, there were not positronic matrices, and no one was allowed to build any more. You see, Soji: real isn't always better." Her closing argument for why the ban on synthetic life forms was wrong is that it prevented sex-based lifeforms from using their positronic brains as testing grounds for medical technology. "I really wish my friend Data were still alive; if I'd used him as a lab rat, it might have saved my son." I do not understand how we are supposed to root for Jean-Luc's crusade if the best argument anyone can muster for the value of synthetic life is that it is useful for the fulfillment of sex-based life.
That is the episode's second most egregious offense.
The most egregious offense came in the opening credit sequence. As every week, cellos and flutes mingled with images of grapevines, Borg technology, and, I guess, dividing cells to remind us of what has been lost and what may yet be reclaimed. We see the list of the show's stars, and then, to much giddiness, the title card flashes "Special guest star: Jonathan Frakes." That is all. In case you skimmed my review to this point, Marina Sirtis was also in this episode. She gets billed in the closing credits. That is not acceptable. I don't care how few lines she has (as far as I can tell, she has at least as many as Frakes), Sirtis is one of the Interstellar Seven, the cast that defined Star Trek for my entire childhood. If she is on your show, she gets top billing. A few years ago, I stumbled into the opportunity to hear Sirtis speak live at Emeral City Comic Con. I say "stumbled" because, when I bought my ticket, LeVar Burton was scheduled to speak instead. He bowed out; Marina Sirtis stepped in. I am not proud to say that I was originally disappointed. She was the one of the Seven I was least interested in seeing live. My priorities were, of course, wrong, and I'm glad she came. She was an animated, hilarious, and very entertaining speaker. She loved us at least as much as we loved her. What little in-real-life reading I have done about celebrities since then has led me to believe that, of all of the Next Generation cast, she is the one you want to have a drink with. I bring all of this up by way of introducing the following paraphrased exchange:
Fan: "Can you say anything about what it was like to work with Sir Patrick Stewart?"
Sirtis: "You mean Old Baldy? Do you suppose Sir Old Baldy ever gets asked what it was like to work with me..." followed by a delightful story about working on the Next Generation that I cannot remember, because that's not the point.
Marina Sirtis endured seven years of being forced to wear that uniform only to have her contribution to the series summed up in the future timeline of All Good Things as "she died, which made Worf and Riker fight about who should have married her." Sure: I have heard the urban legend that Gates McFadden did a much better job advocating for her character and that is why Doctor Crusher is a more developed character (I have also heard that that is why Gates McFadden was temporarily fired to make way for Diane Muldaur). I don't care. Marina Sirtis shouldn't have had to advocate for her character. None of her male coworkers did, and they all got interesting story lines. Geordi got two separate story lines about how he principally pursues romantic relationships through stalking, and yet we still accept him as the galaxy's bestest friend sight unseen. And yet, in spite of all the indignities, Marina Sirtis persists as part of Star Trek's pantheon and deserves to be treated as such. Getting Marina Sirtis on a Star Trek episode should be a Big Deal. It is a Big Deal. There may be less patriarchal explanations for the way this week's credit's played. I will be the first to admit that I don't know how SAG contracts work. I would have an easier time swallowing that if the show hadn't already gone out of its way to point out that heroes "aren't in the habit of consulting lawyers before they do the right thing." Star Trek has made a lot of hay over the decades by convincing people that it is socially important in the real world. This week, that pill got just ever so slightly bigger and harder to swallow.
I'm not mad, Star Trek. I'm just disappointed. I am also mad.
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