Blogging DS9, S1E16: "The Forsaken"

S1E16, "The Forsaken"
Or, You're Looking a Little Pale

"You are not at all what I expected." -Odo

Ugh. Lwaxana.

DS9's 16th episode is supposed to be another callback to the TNG glory days, and yet, its three story arcs almost immediately tear apart at its spaghetti-weak seams. Lwaxana Troi, the oft-appearing meddling mother of the Enterprise's Deanna Troi, arrives on Deep Space 9 under the guise of some Federation diplomatic glad-handing. A flimsy premise to be sure, but at least it's believable.

If an hour-long episode is going to successfully juggle three story arcs, though, (Bashir and the diplomats, Odo and Lwaxana, and the station's encounter with the software life form), there has to be juxtaposition or similarity that weaves the three together. One episode just does not offer enough time to give all three proper attention unless they can share (or directly oppose) thematic ground.

The immediate threat of the probe that comes through the Wormhole and affects the station's computer is wildly unconvincing. At this point in the series, the writers seemed to be approximating the Enterprise-D's ability to "run into stuff" by simply pumping it out of the Wormhole. The problem with this approach is that Picard and co. typically had a reason to run into these supernatural one-offs, and the balance between how that crew handled unexpected obstacles as well as their original missions allowed us to judge their priorities.

The problem with bringing these encounters to Sisko's crew is that it is much more difficult to read into how they juggle the unknown with their stated duties because lining the two up requires far more serendipity. While the probe poses a threat to station by affecting key systems, it only matters because Odo and Lwaxana are in the turbolift and Bashir takes the ambassadors to a particular corridor that happens to catch fire. O'Brien, Dax, and Sisko's awkward puppy analogies are cringe-worthy and uncomfortable, and it makes the whole pretense seem unnecessary. There has to be a limit to the number of "out of the Wormhole" episodes the writers can fill with, and in this case, it seems like they wasted one of those cards.

Meanwhile, we see more ego punishment for Bashir. To be fair, even at this point, DS9 has delved further into the less-than-ideal traits of its characters than TNG ever did. But the continued embarrassment the doctor is forced to endure starts to come off as hateration. Data works as the butt of jokes in TNG because he (mostly) does not possess a full range of emotions, so his victimization is limited. But Bashir, arrogant or not, is a person and the "tough shit" speech Sisko gives him seems less educational than probably intended. Sure, Bashir gets to play hero in the end, but who didn't see that coming?

The episode's main action between Odo and Lwaxana is bizarre and highly confusing. The discomfort her cougar-love engenders in the franchise's older men is a tired joke, but fine, it's what she does. The lengths the plot goes to trap the two in the turbolift are extreme, but my biggest problem is that once they are there, I never bought that there was imminent danger. Yes, Odo starts to get a little gooey, and maybe that's embarrassing, but why do we really care? Odo is more curiosity than lovable character at this point in the series, and frankly his disinterest in Lwaxana's attempts to pass the time through conversation come off as rude. Similarly, I find Lwaxana's "unremarkable" hair to be little incentive for Odo to willingly go to sleep. There's some kind of ill-conceived takeover of the station computer going on, but I'm supposed to be sweating this nonsense? The only redeeming part of the episode is that we learn a few more nuggets about Odo's back story and why he looks the way he does.

Maybe I was cranky watching this, but even my other thoughts are picky:

• Early in the turbolift ordeal, Lwaxana refers to being kidnapped by DaiMon Tog in the TNG episode "Menage a Troi." I have a feeling some people love this kind of canonical cross-series reference, but I hate it. It's fine to refer to what we have already seen in the series, even if it comes from several seasons back (e.g., TNG's "All Good Things"). But the Star Trek universe is too large to assume this kind of background, and I really think viewing of this episode after the reference would be different whether you had seen that episode or not. Good writers can generate emotions on their own; lazy ones use callbacks.
• I really thought O'Brien interpreting the computer's tone of voice was going to be some kind of joke. It wasn't.
• As the Ops staff discusses the probe, Dax throws out the always popular "What is life anyway?" theme. Star Trek writers tend to get super-preachy about this topic, but Dax's reference was as if they wanted it to be on the table just for the audience to look at. I have no idea why it was in there.
• So Ops hears there is a fire in one of the station's living areas, and the two highest-ranking officers on the station respond with fire extinguishers? 
• Lastly, this isn't really specific to this episode, but who decided on the cornflower blue turtlenecks on these uniforms. The costume folks somehow found a color that doesn't look right with any of Starfleet's departmental colors.

1.5 bars of gold-pressed latinum out of 5

Blogging DS9, S1E15: If Wishes Were Horses

S1E15, "If Wishes Were Horses"
Or, Only the Bored are Boring

"Ladies and gentleman and all androgenous creatures...  your attention please. As you have noticed we are experiencing some difficulties. I'm going to have to ask you all to please refrain from using your imaginations." -Odo

I have to make a very personal confession to preface my review of this episode: To the ten-year-old version of myself who crushed on Jadzia Dax, the payoff of her snuggling up to Bashir was wildly gratifying. Judge the fairness of this review with that in mind.

As for the 28-year-old version of myself, he was far less satisfied with this tragically cobbled mess of Star Trek templates. The episode uses one core development to link the ensemble and shows how its impacts the crew, a tactic used in many TNG episodes to varying degrees of success. What this method gains in equal exposure to the cast, it sacrifices the depth of empathy we develop in episodes where a single character's plight or aspirations are developed in full. That's not to say these ensemble episodes are without their place in the franchise (TNG's "Yesterday's Enterprise" is a great example of that place). Rather, in a space station where we are just getting to know the senior staff and focal players in any detail, their collective lack of depth at this point does not allow the story to snugly settle over their unique contours.

And that would be true of a story of any plausibility. To borrow from the quote the episode's title alludes to, a beggar-caliber story rides here. I'll stretch and accept that O'Brien's imagination created Rumpelstiltskin and Sisko's dreamt up an old baseball player, both of them for their children. But considering Bashir and Quark both imagined sex-oriented visions, wouldn't you expect the station to devolve into some massive orgy? And is Kira really so boring that her imagination can't create anything at all? And who is dreaming up emus?

By far the worst part of the episode, however, is Sisko's revelation as to how to short-circuit the expanding anomaly. In a move strangely similar to Picard's directive to think positive thoughts toward The Traveler in "Where No One Has Gone Before," in the face of collective doom, Sisko tells his operations staff that the threat is all in their heads. The franchise always faces a double-edged sword with these kinds of episodes that center around the unexplained. Whereas relations with other species can be expected to follow the pattern they do between nations here in the real world, the writers have the privilege and curse of handling unknown phenomena however they like. In the best cases, we can believe and understand when these problems are solved with 21st Century believable means (sometimes Geordi, often O'Brien). In average cases, the writers come up with pseudo-scientific mumbo jumbo (usually out of Data or Dax's mouths). And in the worst cases, they force overly simplistic solutions out of thin air.

Lastly, I need to address Buck Bokai and Sisko's love of baseball. We know from their conversation at the end of the episode that Bokai was a star from the last seasons of baseball before a lack of interest forced the end of the game (which, considering this was written in 1993 at or near baseball's apex, showed a lot of foresight). Without spoiling anything, I will tell you, dear reader, that this is not the last you will see of baseball players, baseball uniforms, or baseballs. In fact, you may have noticed Bokai left the baseball with Sisko when he disappeared.

I recognize that the writers were trying to find a modern day hook to connect this imaginary space station from four centuries in the future to the present day. And yet, it's completely unreasonable to believe even in Commander Sisko's youth that he loved a long-dead sport. It probably would only be a slightly strange quirk like Picard's oddly generic love of "archaeology" except there may or may not be a holo-game involving the main characters. It's as if the show is begging for some kind of mainstream crutch. "I'm cool too, you guys; I play the baseballs."

Other things I noticed:

• The Bashir-Dax stalkership reached HR-notifying levels in this episode. Seriously, 20 years ago, people did not get uneasy about one colleague fawning over another like this?
• I always read that actors enjoy playing possessed or otherwise altered versions of themselves as Terry Farrell did here with Bashir's imaginary Dax. And as uncomfortable as imaginary Dax felt here, I somehow felt like she was the more textured of the two portrayals. Yes, Dax is supposed to exude coolness and confidence to the brink of arrogance, but in her one turn as the star of an episode ("Dax"), she is reclusive and whiny. 
• As I've read other reviews of the series, I've found people are mostly lukewarm on Avery Brooks, as opposed to my general underwhelment. But in the scene where he bonds with Bokai, Sisko assures the slugger he was one of the best and then proceeds to attempt a wink. Now many people cannot wink with one of their eyes, and some even cannot wink with either. What Brooks executes looks more like a hard blink and surely could have stayed on the cutting room floor, yes?

2 bars of gold-pressed latinum out of 5

Blogging DS9: S1E14, "Progress"

S1E14, "Progress"
Or, Evictions and Convictions

"You have to realize something... You're on the other side now. Pretty uncomfortable, isn't it?"- Sisko

Much of DS9's first season is spent on the theme of change: The station being turned over to the Federation from the Cardassians, the Starfleet crew learning how to live and work on it, and the new relationships built by commerce through the Wormhole. But nobody sees more change than Kira Narys.

Kira suddenly finds herself in a bureaucratic position after years spent as a near anarchist, fighting the nasty Cardassian occupation. You could forgive her if the transition isn't Creamy-Jiff smooth. But in Progress, Kira finally has to confront the conflict in her personal and professional stations. No longer can she strip down to the strange peek-a-boo necklined undershirt she rocks under that major's uniform, ready to get her hands dirty to prove her street cred. No, Kira, the days ahead will be spent earning white-collar respect.

One of the season's most poignant moments comes when Sisko tells her as much. There are many times in the Star Trek franchise where commanding officers' patience toward subordinance is tough to believe, but I don't think this is one of them. Sisko knows he needs Kira if he has any chance at soldering his two crews together, and nothing would shoe her away from cooperation faster than an iron-fisted commander. I believed Sisko when he told Kira her greatest value to her beloved Bajor was as an officer, and fortunately so did she. While she protected Mullibock's dignity by humoring his stubbornness, Kira symbolically set fire to her own fight-for-the-moment stubbornness when she lit up his hut. This is a critical turning point in the major's development in the show's longer plot lines.

Meanwhile, on the station, Jake and Nog are yet again bored and mischievous, as they realize that even in the 24th century, life without money isn't much fun. The duo sequentially trade extraneous pieces until they own a devoid tract of land on Bajor that turns out to be a target for government expansion of a public work. With a little help from Uncle Quark, the boys come into their five bars of gold-pressed latinum and, presumably, the riches of fun it allows.

While Jake and Nog are often high points of the early seasons, their role in this episode seemed redundant. We have already seen how life on the frontier can be tough for citizens like Keiko and especially the station's kids. We also know Jake and Nog are bright and have potential for great things. I didn't need three steps of arbitrage to verify that.

A few other thoughts:

• As if from the horror movie text book, Kira doomed herself to an ordeal in removing Mullibock when she declared to Sisko, "I won't be long." C'mon, Kira, that never works out well.
• If I didn't know better, I would have sworn Mullibock was played by Anthony Hopkins. That's one of the cool perks of the Trek makeup: They can hide famous actors in plain sight or suggest more famous ones are in the fold.

3.5 bars of gold-pressed latinum out of 5