Message In A Bottle

DVD, Voyager S4 (Message In A Bottle)

Seven of Nine's antics are really the focus of this story, in spite of the impression that it's about Voyager's first contact with Starfleet during their four-year sightseeing tour of the Delta Quadrant. She's getting rather too big for her boots, having been allowed space to grow comfortable on the ship, that's exactly what she has done. Like a teenager with their own room, Astrometrics has become her own personal domain, and she's quite happy shutting herself away in there (even locking the door!), and busying herself with course-plotting and exploration from the comfort of a computer screen. Just like a teenager with their computer and internet connection, she's found a purpose and something to keep her mind busy in solitude, at the expense of her social skills. Left to her own devices she causes all sorts of problems, and I can actually sympathise with the put-upon B'Elanna who is once again furious with her independence from the etiquettes and acceptable norms of behaviour that would ordinarily be expected (in a throwback to the Season 1 B'Elanna, Chakotay tells her to deal with it!). Seven's fallen into a little bit of a crack with Astrometrics, and like a busy working Mum, Janeway's been only too happy she's found something to occupy her. It doesn't get Seven off the hook for her attitude, at least it shouldn't, but because she makes a discovery of such magnitude that it could affect Voyager's very mission, raised eyebrows are the worst punishment she receives. She's not reprimanded for utilising alien technology without even checking with the hierarchy that it was acceptable, potentially creating an interstellar incident, she orders people about (as Torres attempts to explain to her), and she's congratulated when she does create an incident, shocking the intransigent Hirogen with a power surge to his console!

The deathtraps that are computer consoles in Trek are given a thorough outing in the episode. Not only does Seven use the Hirogen's own console as a weapon to incapacitate him (he gonna be mighty angry when he wake up!), even the newest Federation starship design still has this unwanted ability to fry the user! Unwanted by the users, but not by the viewers, as it's always dramatic when the equipment itself starts sparking and blowing hot air around. Not only does Seven's use of the alien sensor hub mean a message is transmitted to Starfleet, it means the entirety of the Doctor's program is signed, sealed and delivered right into the very heart of the USS Prometheus. They could have simply had the crew be successful in sending a message and making contact with their superiors for the first time since Voyager was lost in space, but they chose to work it into a comedy episode for the Doc, where the EMH foreshadows his later ECH role (Emergency Command Hologram), and takes charge of a tricky situation involving Romulans and a stolen prototype vessel. As soon as you see the NX part of the prefix on the Prometheus' hull you realise it's an experimental ship, something which immediately piques the interest, shortly followed by the discovery of battle signs and dead crewmembers (in 'First Contact' uniforms!), and the revelation that it's been stolen by the Romulans!

For anyone following along in the timeline, you immediately begin to question when the episode is set, because if your Trek knowledge is worth its salt, you're aware that Season 4 of 'Voyager' ran concurrently with 'DS9' Season 6, which was during the Federation's war with the Dominion, and the Romulans were eventually persuaded to join in on the side of the Feds. But you don't have to wonder for long because the EMH Mark-2 soon fills us in, almost as if he's reading it from a history book. It's very satisfying to have this series finally tie in to the greater Alpha Quadrant struggle, even in a small way, because the Doctor and his holographic colleague are ultimately responsible for preventing the Romulans from stealing this very special ship. Now, there are one or two things that require smoothing out, things that don't make perfect sense. One being that if the Romulans are neutral, why did they take advantage of the opportunity to steal a prized Starfleet vessel, something that, if known, would be taken as an act of war. Two, how is it that the Federation fights back, destroying at least one Warbird (ah, lovely, a Warbird on 'Voyager'!). And three, the lead Romulan, Rekar, informs his crew of a change of plan - they're to change course from their original destination, Romulus, and head for other coordinates where the ship will be handed over to the Tal Shiar, which had been annihilated by the Dominion in Season 3 of 'DS9,' three years earlier.

I have to say it's a joy to have these canon quandaries in a series that generally makes up all its own canon as it goes along, since the Delta Quadrant was largely a blank canvas for them to fill in. And there's no question that can't be answered or has no precedent in the franchise's long history. Let's deal with the first issue: it is true that the Romulans were neutral, but that means little to such treacherous, devious masterminds as they. Prometheus is specifically designed for deep space tactical assignments, which might explain its unique multi-vector assault mode (I really wanted them to make up a new alert - we've already got Yellow and Red Alerts, and Voyager's planetary landing capability uses Blue Alert, so this should have been Orange Alert!), and the fact that it was so far out beyond Federation space that Voyager was able to make contact, albeit through alien technology. So it was a worthy prize for the Romulans to covet (strange that it carries an earlier registry number than Voyager, but perhaps the rules are different for NX ships?), and they're never going to pass up the chance at one-upping their age-old enemies, even at a time of Quadrant-wide turmoil. It was probably the best time to be carrying out a heist, with the Federation concentrating so much on the Cardassians and Dominion. And if the Prometheus is out so far, then so must the Romulans be to find it, which means Rekar may not be in the loop on the latest updates in Federation/Romulan relations.

Which takes us to the third issue: he's working for the Tal Shiar, or at least carrying out the mission for them against the rest of his crew's knowledge. I can't help thinking that this would have been an ideal place to put in some internal Romulan strife as we saw so effectively in 'Face of The Enemy,' which showed that life as part of a Romulan crew is far from simple (just as it isn't simple aboard a Klingon vessel with the threat of lower ranks challenging their superiors to the death if a suitable moment arises!), with internal divisions, tensions and paranoia between the military and secret service. Unfortunately, while these Romulans carry the standard supercilious nature of their race, there's no development of them beyond that, their clipped tones and military bearing, something which in retrospect is a disappointment because it's like all those classic Romulan episodes where we learned about them and came to understand them better, never happened. It's not like we hadn't seen Romulan characters shown in all their complexity on this series (the most interesting thing about Rekar being the actor that played him, Judson Scott, in his third and final Trek role after playing Khan's subordinate in 'Star Trek II,' and an alien in 'TNG'), one of the most successful early episodes being their encounter with a micro-wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant in which they deal with a suspicious Romulan who turns out to be from the past in 'Eye of The Needle' (something referenced obliquely by Chakotay when he cautions the crew getting their hopes up too early as it's not like they haven't been through this before).

I'm sure the Tal Shiar are still in existence, since even if Rekar had been on deep space assignment, he must have had specific orders from them to deliver the captured Prometheus. Likely a power struggle was the result of their destruction in 'DS9,' and while the organisation may have been set back, there were bound to be opportunistic Romulans waiting in the wings to take over the remaining infrastructure - you can never keep an evil secret service down! The answer to the second issue is a mirror of the first, I would say: if the Romulans aren't above taking advantage of the backdrop of war to carry out some sneakery, then the Federation are going to respond, and that's the emphasis: they weren't the aggressors here and were fully within their rights to do everything in their power to take back Prometheus. The Romulans weren't going to admit to the theft, least of all when it was a failed theft in which at least one Warbird was sacrificed. No, they'd be far more likely to claim that Rekar was acting alone, and that he had allies (the Warbirds), not officially sanctioned by the Star Empire. It may even be true, because although Rekar's crew aren't working for the Tal Shiar, they are following his orders, and the Warbirds could easily have been Tal Shiar, so I can get by the political and diplomatic ramifications, even if I'd have liked such things spelled out rather than left to my speculation.

One thing that can't be explained away quite so easily are the four Starfleet ships that come into contact with Prometheus during the episode, one chasing it down until the assault mode puts paid to it, presumably stranding them in deep space, and the trio of vessels that show up for a rumble at the end (two of which are Defiant-class! I imagine they had two of these so as to make it obvious that it's not the Defiant herself, but it remains a pleasing visual reference to the sister-series). In time of war what are that many ships doing out in the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant? I don't have an answer, unless they had been recalled to Federation space, and the message had only recently arrived, they had met up along the route and were in the right place at the right time… It's flimsy, I know. But at least we're getting to see Starfleet tech, whether it's the smooth, cream interiors of Prometheus, or its sleek, attractive exteriors, especially when we witness the multi-vector mode that was its speciality. It does feel slightly unfinished in terms of the interior sets, but then you can't build the best starship on an episodic budget (maybe this was crying out to be another epic two-parter?), and for what it was it remains an impressive achievement considering they didn't have the time or money to go into the kind of detail and effort required for a starship starring in a weekly TV series that is allowed months of planning and experimentation before it's signed off. And the Defiant-class vessels, and the other Akira-class, were gorgeous - even the more common Nebula-class was a sight for sore eyes, and something you miss seeing on 'Voyager.'

Oddly enough, despite all the references, both verbal and visual, I found the Voyager side of the story more important. Perhaps it was the comedic manner of the two EMH's interactions, or that it was such a defining moment when Janeway first attempts to make contact with a Starfleet vessel, but the fate of the Voyager crew was more important to me than that of the Prometheus. And it is a fabulously exciting moment when Seven brings up an image of a Starfleet ship, the first they've seen in this quadrant, aside from the Raven, Seven's own family ship, and the possibility of contact, long accepted as impossible for many years to come is a reality. As in 'Parallax,' the message just gets thrown back in their faces, reflecting off the alien hub because it's too weak a signal, and requiring the holographic matrix of the Doctor to be sent instead, because the higher density of it will carry further. So why not send a holographic message recorded in the Holodeck, rather than risking the existence of the Chief Medical Officer on a ship that has no prospect of new personnel transferring to fill the gap? Although actually, that could have made for an interesting development, if the Doctor became trapped in the Alpha Quadrant how would he be dealt with by Starfleet without Janeway? They might not take him seriously, he could be lying or faulty, or they might get draft him for the plans for Voyager's rescue. Instead of losing Picardo from the series they could have had him work at Starfleet HQ until a time when he could be returned, maybe the following season, and in the meantime perhaps Voyager picks up an alien doctor whose methods are somewhat discomfiting, a bit like Phlox on 'Enterprise.' Then when the EMH did return there'd be conflict and his position would be less clear (like Odo getting uptight about Starfleet Security in early seasons of 'DS9').

The series rarely liked to do anything too dramatic to the format, but one thing they could easily have pulled off, and may have been another missed opportunity, was to have Picardo play both EMHs, as we saw so brilliantly done in 'Dr. Bashir, I Presume,' the previous year on 'DS9.' They'd already done it on 'DS9,' one reason not to repeat the idea, but although Andy Dick was fine as an EMH who gets a mini-arc, inspired by our Doctor into feats beyond his programming and confidence, I didn't know him (as American audiences did), and have never heard of him again! It's fun to see a third iteration of the swiftly becoming essential tool for a modern starship, after the standard EMH and the planned LMH (Longterm Medical Hologram), which was to have been based on Dr. Bashir. In fact, we also get an EMRH (Emergency Medical Replacement Hologram), designed by Harry Kim at Paris' coaxing, apprehensive of the chance he might be stuck in Sickbay for the rest of the trip if the Doc failed to make it back, and fed up with dealing with minor upsets in the crew (he should have been grateful that surgery wasn't required!). Kim discovers how difficult it is to create a functioning hologram for such a complex task as fulfilling the role of a crewmember, despite protesting that it took the best holo-engineers so long to come up with a working model, making the Doc once again seem ever more unique as a creation (though I question his understanding of the Hippocratic Oath - he's willing to heal the injured Romulan, but he and EMH-2 are responsible for gassing the Romulans aboard, and even if that didn't kill them, they fire on the enemy ships during the battle. One of the Defiant vessels finishes off the Warbird, but the docs may be responsible for death and destruction!).

In fact, the Doc's model is at risk in this episode, not just from the potential loss of his program, but also in being trapped away from home in a society that hasn't grown to accept him as his crew mates on Voyager have. He talks of being a hero, but he also lives up to that, bravely agreeing to the mission for the sake of the crew (another Season 1-like moment comes when Torres storms into Sickbay, tells him he has to go, and while he's in the middle of performing a task, summarily deactivates him without a by your leave!). They're very quick to suggest sending him and putting his life in danger, but then there was very little time to think it through, it was the chance of a lifetime and you can sense the hunger and urgency for just something as simple as contact to be made. Even to know that their loved ones no longer consider them dead will be a huge load off their minds, which is why, at the end, although the episode cuts off abruptly, not allowing enough time for the events to sink in (a mistake, but they weren't done with the hub quite yet, the following episode a continuation), the Doctor's words from Starfleet are the biggest deal of the episode: 'You're no longer alone.' Starfleet is going to work on a plan to bring them home, and suddenly they aren't the little ship lost any more, but a distant branch of the Federation fleet, and perhaps in their own way they gave hope to those back home in the midst of war, that even if all was lost, Voyager would still be out among the stars, continuing Starfleet's remit of exploration and adventure.

I wonder how Janeway felt about the likelihood she would no longer be acting completely autonomously? She's still Captain, and it's her ship, but it had become more than a ship and crew, a dedicated generational family whose primary goal was to return home. I think you can see how much it means to her, not just that the burden of complete responsibility that has weighed on her since the beginning is lightened somewhat, but that she's within shouting distance of getting somewhere in that primary mission, that the problem is now shared, that there are people back home, the best minds working on a solution to their plight. And even if the rest of the journey was to take decades of their lives, their existence isn't forgotten. Of course, there was to be a sting in the tail, because as we find out here, Voyager had been declared lost fourteen months ago, and many had moved on with their lives, and you can see how anxious Janeway is to contact Mark, the man she left behind. I wonder why we didn't actually see anyone in Starfleet authority, just the couple of bemused security guards that beam in and confront the holograms, or why a message couldn't have been made a part of the Doctor's program so he could have played it back? There're no Admirals or Captains to reassure them, so we still feel very much in the dark, but it's a start, and who knew that it would eventually turn into good old Reg Barclay as the mastermind behind the project! An another turning point in the series had been reached, and at the same time the series was neatly plugging into the established continuity (Tiny Ron as the Hirogen; McCoy mentioned; some of the Doctor's adventures boasted about), and if the episode wasn't all that it could have been, it's still a rollicking good ride and whets the appetite for a bit of serialisation to come.

****

Star Trek Beyond

cinema, Star Trek Beyond (2016) film

This was the first Trek film I wasn't looking forward to. Let me be more specific: it was the first I was ambivalent about. I thought I'd probably have to see it in the cinema, but I almost didn't, whereas the previous films I was actively looking forward to. Let's go back to the late 2000s when there had been no Trek for a few years, and only the vague hints about 'Star Trek' (or 'Star Trek XI,' as I think of it), to keep me believing that this series set in the future had a future itself. I was both excited about the prospect of more Trek, and disappointed by the direction chosen by these outsiders who had nothing to do with the previous regime, and therefore, no loyalty to it. When I saw the film I was impressed, while still having major reservations, hating that iconic characters had been recast, a new, modern look given to the technology, and pretty much everything that I liked about Trek ignored or bent into a shape that would be acceptable to a mass audience that had no love for Trek. In a way I felt like an outsider myself. But as much as I hated the concept and the many stupid choices, I had to concede that it was a vibrant, lively ride whose verve, intensity and pounding assuredness was enjoyable in itself, even while it was a bad form of Trek, and so I imagined the kind of things they might do in the inevitable sequel - I felt sure Gary Mitchell would be the Big Bad, as the crew was such a gang of youthful mates, and I could see this Kirk being pally, maybe delving into how he and Spock might become friends through dealing with Mitchell (because their 'friendship' sure didn't make any sense from the first film!).

Then 'Star Trek Into Darkness' took four long years to come to fruition, and partly because of sour grapes (at least in my reading of it), JJ Abrams, the mind behind this alternate universe, the Abramsverse as it was monickered (recently recast as the 'Kelvin Timeline'), didn't seem as invested in it - he'd wanted to have a new Trek franchise, all within his universe, with merchandising, cartoons, comics, etc, eclipsing the 'old' brand, and CBS, the owners of TV Trek, weren't having it. So it harmed the new film series that they took so long to get around to a sequel, but it turned out to be a blessing, because those that had loved the 2009 reboot, and were hungry for more Trek, pounced on the old Trek films and TV shows, and added to the ageing fan base rather than being part of a new clique. It turned out that 'STID' was the worst Trek film I'd seen, not engaging with me as 'STXI,' or all previous films in the series, had done. In fact, in some areas it was positively offensive, and had lost the momentum of the first film. So I was turned off from the Abramsverse even more, and while I gave the first film a pass, the second was a fail for me, and so I wasn't greatly interested in what they did next, despite the fact that the 50th Anniversary was approaching in 2016. My interest was piqued by the developments post 'STID,' where original Kirk, William Shatner announced he was going to be in the next film, and then promptly fell again when Roberto Orci was dropped as Director after his script was considered too 'Star-Trekky' (while Abrams concentrated on reviving 'Star Wars,' with equally unimpressive result, I felt).

It sounded like Orci had planned to try and right the franchise, make it more appealing to the diehards like me that had watched it most of their lives and had a significant investment in it, not just appeal to the action blockbuster crowds that Paramount wanted. So, although I was in two minds about Orci, since he'd done plenty of damage in co-writing the first two films, it sounded like he was going to do right by the 50th, and the move away from that, lowered my expectations to zero: thus the ambivalence. I was relieved to find 'Star Trek Beyond' wasn't actively offensive as 'STID' had been, ripping off (sorry, 'homaging'), 'Star Trek II,' and the whole furore over Khan - the worst of 'Beyond' being Spock blubbing about Ambassador Spock's death, and other annoying displays of emotion (showing his pain instead of stoically facing it as a Vulcan - they ripped the guts out of an amazing character to make him 'new and different,' but also made him so much less than he had been, by doing that), and too much silly humour. With the controversial teaser trailer promising action, rock music and dirt bikes, the fears of the faithful appeared justified, and Justin Lin, 'The Fast and The Furious' guy was going to do exactly what it said on his tin. It turned out that, as silly as the sequence was with Kirk riding around an alien planet on a motorbike, it was driven by the plot. And as incongruous as it was to call back to the first film by playing 'Sabotage,' it actually worked fine as a plot point, in both cases diversion or disruption to the enemy. I would even go so far as to say that this was the most 'Star-Trekky' of the trilogy.

The important part of these films for me, is not so much the characters and stories themselves, but any reference or connection to the true, or 'Prime' universe, and we were reasonably well served in that regard. I loved that the bad guy turned out to be a former MACO, the military marine-type organisation created in 'Enterprise,' the only TV series unaffected by the changing of the timeline to create the Abramsverse, since it occurred a century before. In each film, they've nicely referenced that series, whether it was mentioning Admiral Archer and his prize beagle, or a model of the NX-01 on the desk of Admiral Marcus, and this film was no different. I loved seeing the boiler suit uniforms from that series, and glimpsing a shuttlepod landing, and of course, seeing another NX-type ship from that era with the Franklin. It was terrific that the fact Kraal had been a MACO was so integral to the plot, not just a name-dropping reference without meaning. But it's also where some of the failure came in. I was excited when 'STID' used the shady and undefined Section 31 that had been created in the best years of 'DS9,' but it was such a mundane use that it negated the point of their inclusion. I was thoroughly disappointed that we only saw all that 'Enterprise' stuff played back on a crackly, monochrome screen in 'Beyond,' so we didn't get the full force of it. I could barely make out the uniforms had the same look as the NX-01's, and the Franklin itself, while its exterior was well designed and fitted into the period's style, the interior could have been any ship.

I began to wonder how they might have honoured the 50th Anniversary better, rather than simply hitting the release date. But then I realised that the creators of this universe don't care so much about it being fifty years of history, and Paramount wanted the film out in 2016 because they thought they'd make more money off the back of it being a red letter year. Except, as far as I could see, they never once promoted it as the 50th Anniversary of this iconic space series, so what was the point of rushing a 2016 release, where it might have done better with a few months extra time, or even a year? I think back to the other two old-time franchises that are still going today: James Bond and 'Dr. Who.' They both celebrated their 50th with great care, and it was clear that it was about the achievement of reaching such a milestone. 'Beyond' never felt in the same vein of celebration to me, and weirdly it seemed more like any old Trek film than the first two, which were trying (too?), hard to show all the elements you'd expect from Trek. When I think of 'Star Trek VI' (25th Anniversary), 'First Contact,' 'Trials and Tribble-ations' or 'Flashback' (all 30th Anniversary), it's hard to compare the love and understanding for the property they showed back then with that of today. I'm not going to complain about 'Beyond' going off into space and meeting new aliens, because that's what 'The Original Series' was about, but I felt the perfect opportunity was there to represent those established elements of Trek that we all know, not to mention tie directly into each of the other series'. It would have been a tall order for them to get a character from each TV show, but they could have had the space station Yorktown be full of recognisably familiar aliens, not just fancy new ones that, in truth, had a lot more 'Star Wars' DNA about them than Trek, which has been the case in all these films.

I wasn't sure if one of the aliens on the planet that accosts Scotty was meant to be an homage to the Jem'Hadar (or the bulky vampire-like one a remake of an 'Enterprise' design, and I thought one looked vaguely like Morn, but it was only a quick flash so I couldn't be sure), but he behaved nothing like that tough warrior species, so it took me out of the moment. Why couldn't we have seen green Orions on Yorktown, blue Andorians, piggy Tellarites, maybe even a Cardassian or a Klingon as a nod and wink to a dedicated audience? Instead, we're bombarded with aliens that mean nothing, but at the same time we're barely able to revel in exotic designs and see who or what they are because the camera travels at warp speed round the cavernous community (the Yorktown's design itself owed much to the station in 'Elysium'). One major problem was we had no investment in the station, with a quick zip round not enough to form attachment or present a sense of the importance of the place, either on a personal level or a wider, Federation one. If this had been set up as a hub of peace (like Nimbus III from 'Star Trek V,' except this could have been a success), that had helped to keep the region safe and secure, and had performed the function DS9 did, bringing races together in harmony, it would have meant more when that peace was threatened, but as in all these films, we aren't afforded time to linger somewhere before being whisked headlong away, a problem with much of the action, too. Whether or not it was the poor quality of the Vue cinema I saw this at, the projection (in 2D!), was very dark, and this, coupled with the jerkiness of the camera, meant it was often hard to make out what was happening.

But back to the 50th Anniversary: I was very glad that Ambassador Spock was mentioned, even a picture of him shown, and the best moment of the entire film was when Zachary Quinto's Spock opens a box of his things, finds a little flat device and opens it to reveal… For a moment I thought 'they're actually going to do it - they pretended Shatner wasn't having any part in this film, but they're going to do the hologram scene that was written for the first film, but never came into being, and now here it is!' That would have been amazing, and a brilliant touchstone to celebrate the first Captain of Trek, while also being Shatner celebrating the life of the deceased Leonard Nimoy. But it wasn't. Instead it was second best, but still good: a publicity photo from 'Star Trek VI,' or so I thought at the time. Afterwards, thinking about it, this would have been the perfect moment not only to get Shatner as Kirk, but to bring back the other surviving members of the original cast: Walter Koenig, Nichelle Nichols and George Takei. They (and their characters), could easily have filmed a holo-message to their Spock as the perfect homage to him and Nimoy. The photo was fantastic, but it was a bit of a money-saver, and how much longer do they think these actors will be around? I later discovered that the photo (and it is a bit odd that old Spock collected memorabilia from his own films!), was from 'Star Trek V,' not 'VI.' The unbelievable irony of these new films, and perhaps a further indictment to their understanding of those that love previous Trek, is that they've directly referenced the least regarded TV series ('Enterprise'), detested by many (not me), and the one responsible for Trek failing on TV, and now the most loathed film (not by me)!

I also found some difficulty with the Franklin, as much as I loved the idea of them finding a ship from that era which they could use to escape after the destruction of the Enterprise. If they were going to have a ship from the 22nd Century why not the NX-01 herself? How much more relevant that would have made the film! Could it have been the cost of rebuilding those sets that turned them off to it, because there's no reason in canon that the NX-01 couldn't have been lost in the way they described (as far as I know…). It would have had so much more resonance, as would even the NX-02, Columbia. But you can see they either didn't have the budget or else they didn't want to put it into the Franklin, which is, frankly, ugly on the inside. Its coincidental location on the bad guy's planet didn't appear to make much sense at first, until you later learn that Kraal was once human, Balthazar Edison, Captain of the Franklin, so it's not so strange that it would have ended up on that barren planet - it's still hard to reconcile that it was so easy to get working again after a century, or that Kraal didn't appear to know anything about it. You'd think he'd have kept his old ship, although I'm a bit vague on the details as I've only seen the film once, so it may be that he and his crew assumed it had been destroyed when they evacuated. And as much fun as it was to see the Enterprise's remains aflame, the saucer section burning on the planet (saucer separation, hooray!), shouldn't the raging fires have been green for plasma?

Another issue was the lack of wonder from the characters about their own organisation's history. The closest we come to it is Scotty's explanation that this is a key ship in Starfleet's line, and Kirk patting the Captain's chair, though I took that to be more a display of affection for his own, now destroyed ship, touching a memory, this ship a reminder of what he'd just lost. Then again I never got the impression of closeness this Kirk had with his Enterprise. In 'Trials and Tribble-ations,' the fantastic 30th Anniversary tribute from 'DS9,' when the original Enterprise-1701 shimmers onto screen it's a magical moment and the characters react to it, but the Franklin is just some old rust bucket of the past which no one's really that bothered about beyond its use as an avenue of escape (no sign of planet to planet Transporters in this film…). It's a relic of history, but history's boring, right? That's the kind of attitude I'd expect from this version of the characters. The only interest Kirk really has is in the antique motorbike sat proudly and in full working order, in a corner, seemingly none the worse for wear, and that's a problem when a bike has more meaning than the ship! It's not called 'Star Bike.' I appreciated the mirroring of the USS Kelvin from 'STXI,' named for Abrams' Grandfather, which could also be taken for Lord Kelvin, with this one named for Lin's Father, Frank Lin (get it?), but which could also be for Benjamin Franklin, in line with the other series' naming of ships for famous scientists and explorers.

My problem with the Franklin herself, which again, could be due to confusion in dialogue, was that it was cited as the first Warp 4 ship - I wasn't sure if they said it was launched in the 2160s, or lost in the 2160s. The latter would make more sense, since the NX-01, the first Warp 5 ship, was launched in 2151. We also hear that Edison fought in both the Xindi 'War' (as they term it), as seen in Season 3 of 'Enterprise' (a wonderful reference - how great that a race created in 2003 should be referenced thirteen years later, especially after Trek seemed to have died with that series' demise), and the Romulan War, which would have been late 2150s. What I was unclear about was that if Edison was a MACO, an organisation disbanded after the war by the Federation (formed in 2161), then given captaincy of the Franklin, why was he given such an old ship? Was it a deliberate slight on their part, a kind of punishment for being just a MACO? There's also the issue of Jonathan Archer, the creator of the Warp 5 engine, who I thought had worked on previous iterations, eventually leading to the Warp 5, which then led to the NX-01 and Earth's first proper mission out into space. I suppose we could say that Franklin was considerably older, a good few years, and that it had never actually ventured out very far, had been mothballed and brought out of retirement during the Romulan War, before being given to Edison. But you have to bend over backwards to do it!

That's the trouble (and the challenge!), with canon, it guides you, but you need to come up with creative ways to add to the history, especially in an era that has been pretty well defined. You also need people that really know their stuff, and while I do appreciate the effort Pegg and his cowriter went to, and that Director Lin knew 'TOS' quite well, I do get a sense that they were reaching a little bit. I also felt much of what they claimed about the film proved either erroneous or weak: the big thing was going to be Kraal as an alternative point of view to demonstrate the Federation wasn't the beneficial force we see it as, views that might be valid, and we weren't going to get another villain bent on revenge. But we did. I'm sure intentions were good, and I'm sure the tight schedule had something to do with it, but the story was far from finished or fully thought through regarding the villain. There's a muddled message about strength in unity (Kraal says being united is a weakness because everyone feels the loss of one of their own), but it's far from being integral. I loved that he turned out to be one of 'our own,' but his motivations remained unclear. Nero, though pretty two-dimensional as villain of the first film, had clear motive for his actions (even if his logic was skewed to ridiculous proportions), and we'd already had a dodgy guy up top in 'STID' (Admiral Marcus), so it was refreshing to have a former Captain as opponent (seen a few times on 'TOS,' another aspect to make it more Trekkish), but he did appear to want revenge for having his soldiering career ended, and that no one came to rescue him, so it was a simple case of disgruntled injustice.

Add to this that he'd been turned mad by the alien technology he and the remaining members of his crew had used to prolong their lives, turning their DNA alien, and you have a thoroughly unsympathetic villain with vague superhuman abilities to suck the life out of his enemies, and… I guess that's it, I still don't really understand the significance of the planet where he kept the Enterprise crew prisoner, or why he specifically targeted Yorktown for his vengeance, apart from it being the closest Federation installation. With a bit more time and thought (and some big changes in directing style, to be fair!), this could have been a great film that examined the relevance of the Federation, and whether or not it really is just another imperialist force that gives aliens what it deems good for them. I feel that if this had been a film from 'The Next Generation' era we'd have got all that (look at how much time they allowed for Picard to discuss what it means to be human with Tom Hardy's Shinzon in 'Nemesis'!), and more, as well as plenty of action. Instead the plot comes across as a vehicle to get Kirk interested in his space career again, which could be viewed as a rather selfish angle! I always have the impression he's little more than an adrenaline junkie in this universe, not a professional officer, and that he's fighting his nature more than being naturally drawn to the rules and regs of Starfleet - just look how he handled the diplomatic mission in the opening scene!

When Kraal became Edison again, they began to stop wasting the talents of Idris Elba so much (he'd have made an amazing Klingon, and when he was first cast I thought he would be one), which they had done by stuffing him away in a full head prosthetic and giving him grunty dialogue - in fact, when he was fully human in his captain's logs (another great Trek staple, even though we don't normally see them recorded direct to camera!), I would even say he was a compelling character, and one I'd have loved to see more of. How much better it would have been if we'd actually done a 'Generations' thing and shown the Enterprise era in flashback. How about beginning with the Romulan War instead of the silly diplomatic mission designed to make us burst into childish laughter? The Romulan War, something we were denied on 'Enterprise' due to the series' early cancellation, has always been a major point of contention that I so wanted to see, and would have provided more legitimate action than you could wiggle a couple of pointed ears at. They might have lost their twist, of course, and that's one of the problems we see in these films: secrecy, preserving a surprise, is more important than the quality of the storytelling. We could have seen the Franklin go missing, we could have had cameos from Captain Archer or T'Pol, or any of the 'Enterprise' cast. In the 50th Anniversary film, we got not one cameo from an actor reprising their character! It's astonishing, really, and no excuse about it being too difficult to work out because it's an alternate universe or different time, will satisfy.

However, as I said before, this does feel the most Trekky of the Abramsverse films, and I don't know if that was because it was helmed by a man who knew his stuff (or had a childhood appreciation of 'TOS'), or was written in a more sensitive way. There are plenty of fun Trek things like the Universal Translator being active on screen while alien Kalara speaks her native tongue, so we hear both, quite rare on Trek. Or the music at the beginning opening with the familiar 'bing bong' (though it doesn't complete the sequence), as well as the occasional refrain from other Trek music, though subdued and brief as they were. And it's good to see a starbase, even if they don't call it one and it looks absolutely unlike any Federation architecture we've ever seen! We hear some actual technobabble when Scotty and the crew are getting the Franklin into shape (though a montage of them hard at work over hours, even days, wouldn't have gone amiss), something that I could enjoy zoning out on, because there's a certain comfort from hearing that stuff, even when I'm not fully understanding it - they've typically avoided such hallmarks in this series. They also addressed some things I didn't like in the other films, from lopping up this ugly version of the Enterprise, to ending the Spock/Uhura romance, though in both cases they're back to square one again by the end. It suffered through not having the authority figure of Pike, the best character of the Abramsverse, and they must have realised this because they added Commodore Paris in reshoots after filming had ended, as if to make up for his absence.

The film's beginning and end largely worked, only the middle, on the planet, falling short and dragging things 'down to earth.' And I wasn't enamoured with the opening scene of Kirk flexing his diplomatic skills (neither doing too badly, nor excelling), a shallow setup for idiotic humour: oh, these aliens are actually tiny, how funny that is (not). I can see they were trying to go for 'The Trouble With Tribbles' approach and recreate the amusement of Kirk being covered in those hairy fur balls, while also missing the point: it's funny because Kirk has a lot of dignity, a serious character put in a ridiculous and undignified situation, whereas this Kirk is still a bit of a teenager (he's a great deal less annoying and more Kirk-like in this film, I grant), and his getting up to larks, commonplace. But what I realised with this film in particular, is that they've created a parody of 'TOS,' not trying to recapture it, with added modern effects and sensibilities. The oddity is that these characters are actually informed by the older versions from the 'TOS' film series - Spock was much more relaxed about his human side by that time (though even there he kept a Vulcan reserve that meant he didn't burst into tears, share a good laugh, or show pain and fear: he had dignity and respect), Kirk was much more gung-ho (less reflective about his decision-making, which is where the two sides of his personality come in, represented by Bones and Spock, never achieved in any of the Abramsverse entries), McCoy complained a lot more in his old age, and Scotty and the other supporting cast were more figures of fun than in 'TOS.'

I just get fed up with humour that makes the heroes look like fools, avoiding wit and charm for farce. That moronic, or childish, humour which pervades this film is one of the main things to drag it down, and while I can see that that's the kind of thing to help it appeal to the general audience, I'm sure they could get onboard with a higher class of humour instead of being talked down to, assuming they won't reach to meet it, completely the opposite of much previous Trek which tended to elevate and encourage thought. It's a constant reminder not to take things too seriously and have fun because this is a summer blockbuster. It was the same with the first two films, but here the stupidity has been ramped up, like someone asking if the Rock is Classical music, or having Spock swear, because that's funny (they did it over twenty years ago with Data and it wasn't funny then). Admittedly, I did snort in amusement when Jaylah calls the Engineer 'Montgomery Scotty,' and she does have an endearing way about her, but apart from that, she's rather irrelevant, purely designed to add female presence. 'TOS,' being a product of its time, was indeed heavily male oriented, and I can fully understand their wish to redress the balance to attract a wider female audience, but shoving in a female character for the sake of it and not making her particularly important to the story or using her to bring something new out of the characters we know through their interactions, was a missed opportunity. In fact, she took away from Uhura's screen time. How about bringing in Janice Rand or Christine Chapel if we need more female characters, or even make Jaylah as essential as Ilia, Dr. Marcus, Saavik and Valeris were in the old films?

They have the aesthetic of 'TOS' in the youth of the characters and the look of the uniforms (which must be where a huge chunk of the budget went, because there were a ridiculous number of outfits in this film!), yet they're treating the characters with the broader brush of those older film versions. They want to make 'Star Trek IV,' yet also have it be dramatic and dangerous. I'm not against humour in Trek, and in the right hands it can be fantastic (even farce can work - see the many Ferengi episodes of 'DS9'), but you can't suck out the tension with silliness and then expect the drama to enthral. The stakes are pretty high, we see the Enterprise herself get annihilated, and the Yorktown's next on the hit list, but there isn't a strong enough reason to care. It's also strange that Kraal takes a different approach to the station than he did to the ship - rather than swarming it and ripping it to shreds, he goes aboard and actually has to plant the mcguffin (the Abronath, which kept bringing to mind the Argonath from 'The Lord of The Rings'!), personally, thus allowing Kirk a chance to intercept him and have a cliched good guy versus bad guy fight finale. In its defence, it was a good sequence (reminding me of the terrific one-on-one battle between Archer and Silik in the time room of 'Broken Bow'), one that I'd have actually preferred to see more of, since it does something hard to accomplish on a TV budget - the gravity slipstream was a cool idea, and if only we could have had Kirk and Kraal swooping round the skyscrapers a bit longer, it would have made for a grander finish.

As it is, they do a little swooping, a little fighting, then Kraal gets sucked into space, the device he planned to reduce every living thing to dust with, backfiring against himself. I quite liked the party at the end, especially the moment when they make a toast to absent friends and the camera's centred on Anton Yelchin, the Chekov actor who sadly died in an accident mere weeks before the release of the film, and which put a pall over the celebratory air of the marketing (Chris Pine seemed especially affected during interviews, perhaps because he spent the most time with Yelchin in this film). On the positive side, Chekov had more to do, and while in the previous films he was my least favourite character, rather irritating, he's a lot more grounded and useful this time. It would have been inappropriate for Yelchin's last performance in the role to have been overly cartoony and silly as some of his previous scenes had been ("I can do zat, I can do zat!"), and whether it was because the character was improved in response to criticism of the first two films, or whether they edited it to give his character more gravity, it worked. Either way, it was a nice little tribute (Dax was shot the same way on 'DS9' during a similar speech about people not being around forever, though in that case it was a fictional death), as well as the silence after the main credits where they had a title card 'For Leonard' followed by 'For Anton.' I can't help wishing for more, though, especially regarding Spock's death. It affects Quinto's Spock, but that was a negative for me, because I've never liked his portrayal of a Vulcan with emotions right on the surface.

At the risk of repetition, I can never fully warm to these characters because they're merely a parody of 'real' people, and as much as I try to appreciate them, it's not something I'm going to get past, which wouldn't have been the case if they'd been new characters. They've even completely altered the DNA of these people (one in a very controversial way in this film), and I don't like that they think they have the right to do that and still appeal to those of us that care about Trek as a continuing history. They didn't exactly endear their choices with this film when it begins with Kirk finding space boring and wondering if the daily grind of interstellar travel is really for him. I mean WHAT?! I see their wish to create an arc, somewhere for his character to go, and that realising he actually does belong as a starship Captain after all, and wants to get back out there was it, but like all these films it's not very organic, nothing to encourage his change of heart other than the camaraderie of his crew, the thrill of doing dangerous things, and maybe even a little of succeeding in making a difference. But the line about him joining Starfleet on a dare to see if he could do better than his Father, is absolutely true, and while it was quite poetic and contemporary in the first film, it now looks as if, yes, his motivation was purely to prove Pike wrong. He hasn't changed enough from a cocky, naive youngster, but that's because the universe he's living in hasn't necessitated that change. It positively rewarded him for his attitude and approach, so I can actually buy that he'd have a crisis of career - he's realising how shallow he is. (It's the same lack of requirement to qualify that Jaylah experiences when she's allowed into Starfleet, when I never even got the idea she was that drawn to it). If that led to growth in future films, then great, but I've never felt these or the previous writers are capable of developing complex character arcs within the action spectacle beats that need to be hit to keep a casual, fickle audience engaged.

When Jaylah talks about the rock music coming out of the Franklin, she says she likes it for the loudness and the shouting, and I realised that's what the appeal of the summer blockbuster type of film is, and consequently the appeal of these Trek films, to a modern audience: it's the visceral rather than the emotional or intellectual, and that's really all that these films have, and why they've been so much more successful than the older films, which at least were grounded in the established Trek universe, and were careful not to take the characters too far from their roots. This isn't 'Mission: Impossible' (another film series Bad Robot got their claws on and changed to make it simpler and more generic), but that's how it's marketed and viewed, and in the 50th Anniversary that's very sad to me. The news that of the new series, this film has been the least successful, monetarily, actually gives me hope that they'll call it a day with this cast. It wouldn't be the same without Yelchin, and I can't imagine them doing another straight-up, full-cast sequel, yet before the film was even in cinemas Paramount had announced a fourth that would reunite Kirk with his dead Father, George. I was both dismayed and intrigued by that because I liked George Kirk, and his death in 'STXI' was the high water mark of this series, never to be reached again. And for the same reason it would be a terrible idea to undo that and give us more, for the sake of marketing a film! You would undo the only great thing you achieved in the series, and it just shows the wrongheadedness of the money men in charge.

If Paramount wants (or more like needs), to keep the Trek films rolling out and bringing in the cash, I hope they at least do something different, with new characters (and preferably a new era, the 23rd Century not being my favourite), even get that Romulan War going, maybe, as was the original intention for the eleventh film during the Berman era, before the Viacom split put Paramount and CBS at odds, with both controlling parts of Trek. They've shown they can recreate the look of the 22nd Century, so do it! As you can see, I'd be fine if they left the Abramsverse as a trilogy (albeit one where the middle film could be easily skipped), but what of this film? Ultimately, despite it having a more authentic Trek flavour, it remains part of the high-calorie, low satisfaction diet of the second film, and I enjoyed it about as much as 'STID,' which isn't saying much - like that one, I can't imagine looking forward to sticking this one in the player for years to come. It didn't have a strong sense of place, and I don't mean just because they were off the Enterprise most of the time, but that they pinballed around. It seemed a bit bland, having lost the verve and impetus of the first film, and despite that being little more than a ride with many of its own problems, it was at least entertaining. 'Beyond' just didn't have that, and while it wasn't offensive, neither was it different enough from so many identikit action films before it - take the fights, for instance: why would I care about Jaylah and Manas (the token bad guy lieutenant, another of many orc-like aliens), having a rumble? The stakes mean nothing if you can't follow the visual narrative, and I couldn't even revel in the choreography for the camera shaking to pieces (fly her apart, then!).

One film (aside from the silliness of 'Star Trek IV'), that this one contains similarities to, is 'Insurrection.' Another underrated entry in the 'TNG' film series, it's also about the crew surviving on an alien planet while villains who are much closer to home than we realise, cause much trouble. Oft complained about for its 'TV episode' feel, something which I actually respect about it, it has the same kind of bad guy and his main crony, as 'Beyond,' but while that cliche is present and correct, as well as the Captain having to fight it out in a special room at the end, there's actually some redemption, as Gallatin, the lieutenant to Ru'afo, is accepted back into the Ba'ku community from which his race came. It's incredibly true to the spirit of 'Star Trek,' and the kind of missing element that a film like 'Beyond' is crying out for. All it really has is the large scale action that couldn't have been done before (or not as slickly, perhaps). One thing that was a success, and might be the most emotive part of the film is the destruction of the Enterprise. I noticed that they made sure to show her off with some pleasing beauty shots beforehand to make the most of her, a nice concession. Her fate was no secret (they did learn not to keep the big, controversial stuff a secret, as they tried to with Khan, actually lying outright about his identity before 'STID' came out), and I thought I wouldn't care, because I have zero attachment to that chunky monstrosity that was the Abramsverse redesign of the classic Enterprise.

I was wrong. It wasn't the ship itself and what she meant to me that got me, it was just the awe-inspiring destruction of a starship - it doesn't matter what universe, seeing one of these vast spacefaring vessels mercilessly ripped apart is a shocking sequence. When you think what it means to a crew that have lived there and made their home within, or to a Captain, given the responsibility of this ship and crew, the final resort to abandon ship is a hard decision. My one complaint would be that Kirk didn't at least try to go down with his ship as Captains usually do. There was a beat where I thought he was going to, and maybe Bones or someone would pull him away as a lost cause, or it might refer back to the sacrifice of his own Father. Again, the picture was too dark and the camera moving frenziedly so I couldn't fully appreciate the moment - it also could have done with some slow motion and haunting music (think the various sacrifices in 'The Lord of The Rings,' choral music soaring high and sad above the action), which might be a bit of a cliche, but always works wonderfully. Even so, it was a moving moment, not for the specific ship, but to witness such a symbol being demolished, a brave choice in the 50th Anniversary year. Of course, as soon as its destruction was assured in early trailers speculation of the Enterprise-A's appearance at the end was rife. I was hoping they'd leave Kirk's next command ambiguous, or make it another ship, but one thing I did like was the time-lapse  construction, something new to Trek and an effective device, though it made starships appear cheap and easily replaceable - we'll have another for you in a jiffy! In the original films they had to wait for the subsequent instalment before they had their first glimpse of the 'A,' and back then they had exactly the same class because they couldn't afford to construct a new Enterprise, whereas here, with CGI at their disposal, they could have gone wild.

Something else that worked nicely was each of the main cast saying part of the 'These are the voyages' speech. As it began, I thought how fitting it would have been for each of the old Captains to record part of it: Sisko, Janeway, Archer (they already had Picard and Kirk's soundbites), which would have been amazing, but wouldn't have meant anything for the characters, one reason why they don't mean much to me. The perfect tribute to the various TV shows, tying it all together, but I can also see that this version represents this crew finally taking the limelight without old Spock or anyone else, and in that regard it is just as fitting, except for the fact that this very much feels like the last one, never having lived up to the potential of an alternate universe to be dramatically different. The whole point of a different timeline was so they didn't have to worry about canon (in other words they were terrifically lazy and didn't want to learn), and proved it by destroying Vulcan and killing Spock's Mother (why didn't they have Sarek bring the news about the death of Ambassador Spock?), then they tried to recreate 'Star Trek II' and failed miserably. For the 50th they are at least connected to the history (obliquely with the Franklin era), when they should have been at their most direct. They could have gone into the politics and troubles of New Vulcan instead of just having Spock consider leaving the service to help his race. It would have been much more dramatic to disband the crew - if they do a fourth film, they could have had fun bringing the band back together.

If only they'd begun their film series with something like this one, and gradually introduced more traditional Trek aliens and stuff into proceedings instead of going the inverse route. It's also somewhat ironic that they bypassed so much of the time, jumping right past the third year of the Five-Year Mission. They could have given us more films like the first one, showing the crew learning their roles and such, but they always want to jump to 'the good stuff' (or is that 'the easy stuff'), rather than build a story and universe - look at the Nolan Batman trilogy and imagine how good this series could have been if it had had that level of progression and intelligence. For what it is, the Kelvin Timeline has been an object lesson in how to make it appeal to the masses, while forgetting the loyal followers that stuck to it even during the bitter days when 'Enterprise' was at its lowest point. But the times are changing once again, and after twelve long years in the wilderness with only this watered down Trek to look forward to, 2017 promises a new dawn with the TV series 'Star Trek Discovery.' Hopefully this will fulfil the need for traditional Trek, and if these films continue then fair enough - the truth is they matter a whole lot less in the light of Prime Trek's return, a stopgap measure, better than nothing, but now obsolete. Thanks for what you did, now it's time to move on.

**

Waking Moments

DVD, Voyager S4 (Waking Moments)

Dreams can be both gloriously freeing, and hideously nightmarish, full of inescapable terror, so it is with some regret that I must call attention to reasons why this episode, while great, doesn't fully push the envelope of control. I've always loved Trek episodes that deal with, or feature in some way, realities within realities, and the ambiguousness of whether what we think of as real is so, or if bizarre and disturbing unrealities could be the truth. Trek has always been heavily science-based and much more sci-fi than fantasy, but now and again they do things which can only be described as magical or fantastical, and this is one of those times - choose an image in your mind, then tap the back of your hand three times to wake up? This isn't 'The Wizard of Oz'! No doubt lucid dreaming, taking control of events within the unconscious mind, and having the ability to wake at choosing, could be classed as pseudoscience, and it is this that drives the episode. Why isn't the story entirely successful? Simply because they're restricted by the nature of necessary uncertainty in reality - in other words, they couldn't go into any great impression of a dream world and all the horrors and wonders that might have been depicted or they'd have tipped their hand and the audience would be able to see which part was real life and scenes only in their minds. Usually in dream states they make things much creepier and surreal, with a strong hint of menace and lack of control, but then they couldn't have the twist that Chakotay realises he's still in a dream (similar to 'Extreme Measures' on 'DS9').

It's a good twist, I must say, and it's chilling when he suddenly notices the Moon and realises he hasn't woken as he thought he had, still within an elaborate deception from the dream aliens. That's why the episode works on the whole, because for all its lack of foreboding and a helpless impression of being at the mercy of a race that can inhabit dreams as they can reality, there's still a chill to realising unreality and the fear of not waking up. It's usually easier to create the tension of multiple realities because generally we have the Holodeck to thank for that, or aliens using mind control. Here, it genuinely is a different state of being, since this existence is generated by the crew themselves, the aliens simply make them all share the same dream. That makes me wonder if their game plan was flawed, because if they'd all gone to sleep and existed in their normal, separate dreams, they wouldn't have figured out what was going on and been able to do anything about it. Come to that, what exactly were the aliens hoping to achieve? Take over Voyager? Do they thrive on creating fear in other species, is it merely to scare others off so they can rest in peace? They claim that this is their way of warfare, but I don't see what they gain from it? Maybe they feast on the bodies of other races by drawing them to their lair? That would have upped the ante much more if we felt the crew's mortal bodies were the goal. Instead, as in a dream, things are a little hazy. At the same time there's a little too much explanation where shadowy motivations would have been better, although their apparent openness was all part of the deception.

It's good to see Robert Beltran carry the episode again, especially in the light of the latter seasons and their sidelining of Chakotay. He was a bit quick to jump straight into the dream world to confront the aliens - he says they're out of options, but they'd only just realised what was happening, they hadn't even searched the whole ship in case the aliens were aboard! But just as he was an ideal supporting player in the previous episode, there for Neelix when he questions his beliefs, he's the right man for this job, his unique understanding of the dream state true to his heritage and he has the background that enables him to be the best 'sleep warrior' of the crew. I'm not sure how deep his beliefs run, but he mentions the Aborigines and their view of the dream world, though he says it with a smile - he is talking to a hard science Captain, and they are primarily a science vessel, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise that such things are thrown in offhand. We've seen the crew turned to sleep before, of course ('Persistence of Vision' is my favourite), and we'd go on to see the idea of 'collective unconsciousness,' as Seven puts it, comparing it to the opposite of the Borg's existence, explored in an emancipative way ('Unimatrix Zero'), but here it's a result of the aliens' interference. It's always poor Harry who gets the worst deal - he was chosen by the Taresians to become one of them in 'Favourite Son,' and got mashed by Species 8472, and in this episode he gets beaten up by Seven (in a dream), and is the first to succumb to the aliens' dream state. He's the heir apparent to O'Brien's tortured exploits!

Though there's less tension because of the style of direction, a deliberately design so we never see any difference between waking and sleeping Voyager, the teaser is put together particularly well, jumping between various odd moments that various crewmembers are experiencing in their seemingly ordinary lives. It flashes between events most effectively, and then things take a turn for the strange and we realise what's happening is well out of the ordinary. The music was especially effective at opening the episode with a portentous air, yet equally it could have been just the kind of music that shows all is normal on the ship and everyone's going about their business. After the scene with Tuvok walking the corridors without any clothing (you only see a closeup of his face, but you can tell what's happening), the next shot is Seven suddenly descending a hatch and I thought she, too, was naked for one moment because of the lighting and the mental image of Tuvok. Kim's still besotted with her, we learn, since he dreams of being taken down into the bowels of the ship for a good smooch, though in reality he's got a good professional interplay with her. We don't see B'Elanna's dream, but we do see her wearing new attire, an engineer's jacket in the same mode as Dr. Crusher's medical coat - that was to hide Roxann Dawson's growing pregnancy, unlike in 'DS9' where they worked Nana Visitor's into the story rather cleverly.

One thing that does surprise is how quickly the story develops, there isn't the slow build of 'Scientific Method' where everyone's having issues and it takes them a while to realise what's happening. Perhaps because of that previous experience Janeway's more suspicious of anything out of the norm - she and Chakotay are discussing their similar dream experiences, Paris chips in, and it's soon obvious they all saw the same alien. It's a shame they didn't use the Holodeck to create the 'E-fit' for a three-dimensional design, instead relying on a flat computer screen. That may have been deliberate as they might not have wanted to remind audiences of another false reality in an episode about false realities, but such things have been done so effectively in the past (I think of 'Identity Crisis' and 'Schisms' on 'TNG,' not to mention the previous episode, 'Mortal Coil' where Chakotay recreated the shuttle accident). Another thing that showed some development in Janeway's thinking is when she believes Voyager to be taken over by the aliens and makes a ship-wide announcement to initiate 'Defence Procedure Omega.' It's entirely possible that this was just an imagined part of her dream that she would have come up with something like that, but it would also make sense if it had been implemented: after the Kazon were able to capture the ship in Season 2 they'd be likely to create a response to the threat, if there wasn't already a Starfleet procedure in place.

What's real and what isn't doesn't just stretch to the story, but the story logic. They definitely cheat at one point when we think Chakotay's woken up after his deliberate mission into the dream state (two vision quests in two episodes, it's like we're back in Season 1 or 2!). We have an exterior, establishing shot of the ship, which we shouldn't be able to see, unless the rationale was that any of the characters could have dreamed seeing the ship (maybe they dropped a routine probe and were looking at an image onscreen). There's also the issue of the Doctor, who doesn't dream and so shouldn't be having any influence on the dream world. Granted, thinking back, it can get a bit confusing over which bit was reality, and they probably kept his role correct in the imagination of the other characters, but he's trying to help Chakotay in both the real world and dream, so it's all a bit confusing, even if he does have good lines ("No rest for the never weary," and describing himself as a "Verbal splash of cold water"). The concept becomes maze-like as the exhausted Chakotay becomes fallible, dropping in and out of sleep and into the clutches of the aliens, and then waking as if doubling back from a dead end in a maze to do what he thought he'd done, again. It's a bit like 'Future Tense' on 'Enterprise' where they keep doing the same task, realising at the same time that they've done it before, or even 'Cause and Effect' for a more extreme comparison.

Chakotay would be good at Poker, because I believe him when he gives the alien an ultimatum that if the crew aren't freed, the cavern where their waking bodies are lying will be destroyed, along with himself. I think he would sacrifice himself to save the ship, and evidently so did the aliens. I can see why they might be so unfriendly when you notice the painfully hard stone slabs they're all lying on. If they spend most of their lives like that, they're bound to be a bit grouchy! I felt we could have done with more of the impossible moments which helped to make the episode such a different proposition: Janeway goes back into Engineering as the Warp Core's about to blow, and survives the breach intact. Mind you, why were Tuvok and Torres hurrying out the door? They admit that the ship should have been destroyed, so it wouldn't matter where they were aboard her! Maybe it was all part of the disorientation they were experiencing? I like that we actually get to see the shattering glass (or transparent aluminium, or whatever the material was), of the core, about to explode, as we usually leave the area rather than hang around at that point. It was also fun to see a deer running round the corridors (just as it was to see emus on the Promenade of DS9), but I hope it didn't ruin any carpets…

When you know the twist well and are watching from the point of view that nothing is real most of the time (like 'Projections'), it isn't quite as nail-biting as it once was. They also missed a trick in not ending the episode in an ambiguous style, wondering if this is indeed reality or if they'd been duped again (like 'Persistence of Vision' or 'Far Beyond The Stars,' though that was more poetic musing). It had been done plenty of times before so I can see why they didn't, you don't want every 'reality within reality' story to be the same. But the core concept still works very well, the idea of having to stay awake because going to sleep, a state where you no longer have control over your mind, is such a dangerous battleground. It's like the Holodeck with the safeties off: if your mind believes it's been injured or killed then you could be in the real world. It doesn't lose any of its power to frighten - no one likes the thought of losing control. In spite of all that, there are fun moments such as the possibilities of a Vulcan's dream being the butt of amusement (two episodes in a row where a false vision of the crew causes consternation from the dreamer's perspective: Neelix at the Prixin party in the vision quest, and Tuvok turning up on the bridge completely naked in a nightmare), and I think what they said about them having more terrible nightmares, would be true, their unconscious mind unbound from logic and control. A trip into a sleeping Vulcan mind would make a great story, even if one variation has already been done ('Flashback'). The aliens' warning, "Pray you never dream of us again," is a strong underline of their threat, so it's a shame we never encountered them again. But Voyager is always moving on, and as Janeway said, "Sometimes first contact is last contact."

****

Endgame

DVD, Stargate SG-1 S8 (Endgame)

The Stargate gets nicked. A pretty intriguing, high concept prospect and one that gave us a good mystery to keep us guessing, while keeping a couple of story-lines hopping along rather well. On one side of it we get a humorous little opening where Walter and a fellow 'gate technician are on the night shift when the 'gate gets stolen and wonder if they're going to be held responsible (Daniel remarkably jokey when he interviews them considering how vital the Stargate is!), which turns into a mission to track it down, while on the other side, Teal'c continues to meet with Jaffa groups and is trapped when Earth fails to respond to his messages. Teal'c's story is a tragic loss of Jaffa life when the mysterious thieves of the 'gate use it to send through anti-Goa'uld toxin originally developed by the Tok'ra, massacring millions, both loyal Goa'uld and symbiote-bearing Jaffa, and because of recent tensions with the Tok'ra, they immediately fall under suspicion. We get to meet a subordinate of Baal's, Zarin, who's actually a Tok'ra agent that has worked her way up the ranks, but her cover's put in jeopardy when Teal'c and fellow survivor M'kel, get 'captured' in order to make contact with the Tok'ra through her. It's a shame someone in such deep cover is killed after the latest planet chosen to attack with the chemical weapon is the one Teal'c's on. He's immune, no longer having a symbiote, but all around him, guards and M'kel alike are instantly affected, and his friend's sudden death is all the more poignant when the last words he utters are that he dies free.

Small solace, but it shows how awful the tyranny of the System Lords is that their servants would find some kind of peace in death. It's not like M'kel was a particularly important character, but he'd been in it once or twice before, and was a familiar face, and it's a harsh irony that only a short time ago, Teal'c would have succumbed to the poison along with the rest of them. It's fortunate that he was able to dial Earth in time to sway the hand to hand battle between Daniel and Carter on the one side, and members of the Trust on the other, killing the main guy, Hoskins, with a staff blast, though Brooks manages to steal away Osiris' abandoned al'kesh ship. At least the Prometheus was able to rescue the Stargate, Sam and Daniel, before that happened. For it was the shady Trust, ex-NID agents gone rogue, that were behind the light-fingered lifting and the diabolical full-scale chemical warfare. We get a sense of the devastating effects of such nerve gas early on when Daniel, Sam and a team of soldiers mount an attack on a Trust location, and the crossfire breaks the deadly vials. It's chilling when Sam says it's too late, there's nothing they can do, and they're resigned to sudden death - if it hadn't been exclusively fatal to symbiote's they would have been killed with nothing they could do about it.

There are a few brushes with the deadly in the episode: Sam is offered the chance by Hoskins to lower the risk of their collateral damage to innocent Jaffa when she's held captive on the ship by giving them the locations of Goa'uld-heavy planets, and for a moment you could almost see the gears turning in her head, whether or not it would be a better way than their systematic annihilation of all Goa'uld planets. But of course she wasn't going to participate in genocide, whatever the rationale, despite the fact that many of them were sworn enemies of Earth, with fealty to evil leaders. It's not necessarily a good thing to kill off all the Goa'uld anyway, since there would still remain Anubis' Kull Warriors to deal with, and they'd be sure to be immune from such poisons. O'Neill also has to carry the can with some tough decisions: Pendergast, commanding the Prometheus, wants authorisation to fire on the al'kesh, but he hesitates, knowing Sam's up there, as well as Daniel, and in this case the slow response proves vital, as the pair are able to overpower Hoskins and Jennings in time - you'd think they would have simply gone after Brooks and taken control of the ship as that would have been simpler than sending out a signal to the Prometheus, but in the heat of the moment, and not knowing if there might be other Trust members aboard…

There's some interesting interplay with dodgy English scientist, Dr. Bricksdale from Area 51, who cries crocodile tears when he's caught, apparently terrified the Trust will kill him if he talks, but it soon becomes clear it's the money in his secret account that matters to him, and he soon perks up and is most cooperative when he's offered a deal to keep it! It's a shame they didn't bring back the other characters from the recap, reminding us of Erica Durance's part in 'Affinity,' and Colson from 'Covenant,' as well as Osiris, though didn't she die? I can't remember. The Alpha site (headed by Colonel Pierce), is a good concept that is given greater importance in this story as it's an alternative address Teal'c can get to when Earth is inaccessible. It's kind of creepy to think that it's so separate from Earth, except for the Stargate, and that Earth may have been compromised from their point of view. But it inspires the imagination a little to think that there could be other human outposts connected to Earth out in the galaxy that would mean humans would live on, even if Earth was destroyed. There's also some pretty good action, such as Hoskins and his flight from the authorities, blasting doors open with a rather nifty automatic which was so powerful I wasn't sure if it was a real world weapon or something designed with alien technology - it certainly made mincemeat of the doors, and had a stinging barrage of sound to put off pursuers!

Things end on an ominous note, with the knowledge that the Trust are in control of an al'kesh and plenty more biological weapons, if not the means to easily send them to multiple planets. And Jack's decision to hold off from firing proves right, but it's fortunate it did, as they could have handed over the 'gate to the Trust permanently. It's a sobering final scene, without the usual jollity among the four of them, with only a slight smile of relief on O'Neill's face when he turns to leave. Though he wasn't much in evidence he had plenty of dramatic weight to his role, and you wonder if he wishes he could just get back in the field when life and death decisions were more personal. But once again it shows the team working well together and is a satisfying episode that deals with a number of issues and plot threads without getting too convoluted. And though it's light on humour, given the serious nature of what's going on, the technicians' discomfort (not to mention the preceding scene where Walter tries to make the night shift seem excitingly essential), and Jack's line about just because he doesn't have any ideas, doesn't mean he has to do something, then pausing as if he's said it wrong, retains lightness. And Carter looks pretty cool running round in a leather jacket packing a zat!

***

Star Trek Discovery - 'TOS' Prequel

Star Trek Discovery - 'TOS' Prequel

The final important piece of the puzzle has been rolled into place and I have to admit to a small twinge of disappointment. While clues pointed to it being set in the 23rd Century (the design of the USS Discovery and its registry number, plus show-runner Bryan Fuller having a particular interest in the era), I was still hoping it would turn out to forge further into time at the latter end of the 24th, or early part of the 25th, Centuries. Even the previously 'leaked' timeframe of being post-'Star Trek VI,' or the Romulan War of the 22nd Century, would have been preferred by me. But it's been confirmed that we're getting another prequel to 'The Original Series,' and while I'm still grateful for anything set in the 'Prime' Universe, I can't deny my anticipation has dropped a notch or two. The trouble with prequels is that unless you're going to throw the ship to a distant corner of the Galaxy (which we've already seen perfectly well executed with 'Voyager'), it's tricky to produce an era that you so want to look like as it originally did, yet with a more futuristic design than the sixties series it is prequeling! 'Enterprise' did an admirable job of straddling those two requirements, but even that is going to date more than the 24th Century-set series' which still have a style that is out of time and hard to pin down.

It's also true that whatever the intentions of a series when it sets out, it will always naturally gravitate towards what the general public knows, because that's the best way to get ratings - 'Gotham' was weird for not being about Batman and his period of crime-fighting, but they had to have a young Bruce Wayne, and more and more origins of known characters. It was the same with 'Smallville,' which started as a series purely about Clark Kent trying to fit in during his teenage years, but became about origins of characters we knew. It's what a general audience expects, and it's what we get. I really have no interest in seeing a young Kirk on the Farragut, or a young Pike, or Spock, or anyone who would have to be recast in those classic roles. Thanks to the Abramsverse films we've been set a precedent for recasting roles that, for forty-odd years, had been set in stone as the actors who first played them, which continued throughout the various sequels. Just as I was concerned with the 'TOS'-'TNG' era might introduce young 'TNG' characters, it's even worse here because we're so close in time to the period the famous main characters were living. Whenever a character was brought back from previous Trek it was so much more exciting because they were acknowledging the actors that made those roles their own. That's what was different with Trek compared to anything else: it was a real universe with real people, not interchangeable roles that are continually played by new faces, as superheroes are, or James Bond.

Had the series been set post-'Nemesis' there would have been every chance we'd have seen Captain Riker-Troi of the Titan, or myriad other characters we've come to know and love, and while it's not impossible for actors to reprise their famous roles on 'Discovery,' they'd have to jump through hoops to do it, and when they did that on 'Enterprise' (only managing a couple of times to come up with a way to have existing characters in an episode), it was decried by the vast majority (personally I found the finale to be one of that series' best episodes), meaning it will be harder to justify in future.  One of the things I enjoy most about Trek has been its ongoing nature, that you never know who you'll see again, continuing loose ends or creating new ones. But as I said, I'm not interested in seeing recast characters, and you can be pretty sure that we'll be getting that eventually. And unless they do have a connection to the future of the future (as 'Enterprise' did with its Temporal Cold War, an excellent concept sorely underdeveloped!), they'll have to do some crafty time travelling - we're unlikely to see Captain Worf or any of the other exciting prospects that were waiting eagerly to be explored in the last few years.

At the same time, there are characters that could logically be brought in without bending things out of shape: I was pleased to read that Whoopi Goldberg would be open to appearing, and her character of Guinan would be an ideal candidate since we know she's lived for centuries. Just such a thought is delicious, and if they can bring in a few people like that, then I'd be all for it! But again, although the 23rd Century was what first introduced me to Trek, it isn't my favourite era and pulls up lost of questions about how to address certain issues, such as the look of the Klingons and Romulans. Will we even see these races, and can it be Trek without them? Well of course it can, but we want to learn more about existing races and their cultures, not just hop from planet to planet for a story of the week. That shouldn't be as much of a problem as it was in 'TOS' because, as we already know, the thirteen Season 1 episodes will be part of a serial. I've been reassured by the announcement that episodes will have individual stories, though, which will wrap up each week while contributing to an overall arc. That sounds like the best mix, akin to the 'DS9' style of storytelling.

So it's not the end of the world, and I like the idea of not having a Captain (the lead is going to be a Lieutenant Commander), to counterbalance the familiar perspective we've had from the previous series' - the best series, 'DS9,' also began with Sisko as Commander and provided so much more room for growth. I expect we'll have less of the traditional roles of Doctor, Security Chief, Engineer, though no doubt there will be representatives of these disciplines either in the main cast or recurring. I do feel the era is among the worst choices, but I'm not going to slate the series before I've seen it, and I'm sure Fuller and his team will come up with some great stories, it just remains to be seen whether they'll be able to reconcile the level of technology and design with what we've seen of that era. Section 31 are hinted to 'pop up' in the series in some way, and I still hope for an overarching, multi-time approach so that we could still see different eras, though it sounds unlikely. Jury's out, for now.

Anticipation: ***

Mortal Coil

DVD, Voyager S4 (Mortal Coil)

Neelix has always been something of a trickster. Not a fraud or a conman (at least not to any great extent), but in the way that he hides his true, strong emotions under a veil of eagerness to please, eccentric pleasantness and optimism - why, the first time we met him everything he did was a blind in order to solicit Voyager's help to rescue Kes from the Kazon! In the first season we found out why he keeps his real feelings bottled beneath such a genial exterior when we learned that he's lived with his own stigma of cowardice ever since his homeworld, including all family and friends, was massacred by a genocidal weapon. Partly, his desperation to always be in people's good books, the man who cheers all he meets, could be seen as a penance he charged himself with to make up for past sins, and partly he is genuinely a loveable, cheery fellow resolved to make the best of whatever situation he finds himself in. With Voyager he found the perfect, accepting environment for his varied talents, and a haven for Kes and he to settle in. This episode is about what hope Neelix had in life being taken from him, and to what depths it drives him. His conflicted nature has always proved what a deep and complex character he is - the main reason I think viewers generally didn't warm to him, is because he's not in the typical hero mould of Starfleet characters. They see the bumbling, insecure side; the jokey, silly exterior, and don't look any deeper. But you only have to witness episodes such as 'Fair Trade' where his loyalties are tested and his weaknesses come to the fore, or the Season 2 arc of jealousy over Kes and Paris' friendship, to see what a tempestuous figure of extremes he is.

The Guiding Tree in The Great Forest where all his loved ones will be waiting for him when he dies, and watch over him while he lives, has been his constant hope and solace for all the things that have gone wrong, all the frustrations in his life, and in this episode he's forced to confront those long-held beliefs as apparent falsehood. If there were any episode that appears to have a strong anti-Christian agenda, this would be an easy contender, for it seems to say that Heaven (or the Talaxian version of it, in an unsubtle parallel), is being openly denied, a dig at all those who have real faith in life after death. But this was Bryan Fuller's work, and while I don't know if he considers himself a Christian, he's certainly drawn strong connections between the Christian worldview and Trek's ("There is a strange Christian quality, in its purest form, to the Roddenberry universe" - Star Trek Magazine #183, p.7), in interviews of recent years. I think the story is not actually about confirming or denying a belief system, but examining how a person copes when their faith is tested. And it couldn't be tested much more than by dying. Unless it were by dying and being brought back to life by Borg nanoprobes (one of the first instances of the fix-all solution Seven of Nine's bloodstream added to the series' dramatic toolbox: Holodeck malfunctions, Transporter accidents and nanoprobes).

The story could easily have gone in a completely different direction to the personal storm Neelix endures. Watching this series' pilot, 'Caretaker,' on original transmission, my Mother (not a big Trek viewer), really found it appealing for it feeling so close to 'TOS,' presumably for its bright, accessible sense of fun and adventure. While 'TOS' featured all those things, it also had a morbid, creeping horror to its stories, so many monsters and so much evil out there in unexplored space. Arguably, while the other series' incorporated that colour to their palette of storytelling, 'Voyager' was the one that recreated the haunting, bloodcurdling sense of the horrible, the best. Another approach to this episode could have been a 'Frankenstein' ripoff, with Neelix, usually such a kind, unthreatening individual whose clothes and appearance made him cuddly and approachable, becoming the monster, assimilated internally. Granted, we've seen that story plenty of times ('Genesis' on 'TNG,' or 'The Alternate' on 'DS9' for two examples). If this had been in the 'Kelvin Timeline' (the Abramsverse by any other name), that's exactly the kind of action-packed zombie horror we'd have got. And as interesting as 'Impulse' was on 'Enterprise,' it lacked the psychological chills this episode achieves. It is curious that the creepiness of having nanoprobes forcibly injected into you in order to save your life isn't addressed (except for Neelix' initial revulsion to the idea), but there's only so much time, and faith crisis was the observable avenue of direction they chose to visit.

Still, there's a reason I've often remembered this as a horror episode above anything, and that's for the nightmarish vision quest in which the things he loves are twisted on their heads, and rather than comfort and joy, the members of his Voyager family join in confirming his fears of oblivion and hopelessness. The experience was supposed to take him to a place where he was at his most relaxed and contented, but at that party he was far from peaceful! Even worse, we see his sister, Alixia, who not only taunts and rails against him, but outright denies the afterlife, angrily spouting that life is pointless; it was all lies created in response to the fear of death; you are alone; all the torturous arrows of suicidal thought, and spoken creepily in Naomi's nasally child's voice as if to twist the knife even further, before disintegrating like a dusty corpse (perhaps signifying the Metreon Cascade, the effects of which we saw a version of in 'Jetrel'). I didn't think the scene began scarily enough, with a recreation of the Prixin party in the Mess Hall which was bright and full of happy music, but then his friends turn on him as he tries to speak to Alixia and though there's a halo glow around everything, it may be that the jolly atmosphere was designed to create greater incongruity with what's actually happening.

There's also a morbid moment when Neelix breezily wants to see the Holodeck recreation of the accident as Chakotay's about to run it. For one thing, it's fascinating that the computer automatically records everything that's going on in the shuttlecraft (presumably it doesn't have records of every room and corridor on Voyager or that would be rather disturbing!), though perhaps it only saves the last few hours in case of a necessary investigation? Chakotay appears surprisingly thoughtless in allowing Neelix to join in so soon after his ordeal, and the cold, hard visuals of what happened only confirm the Talaxian's views and lead him to his breakdown, though it also allows Chakotay to step in and assist his friend. The vision quest is only one aspect of the story that Fuller brings back from the characters' backstories, and once again gives me hope that 'Star Trek Discovery' will be a series heavily based within Trek continuity. We're really taken back in time to the early seasons, particularly Season 2, I would say, with Neelix having a flower from Kes' airponics garden, Samantha Wildman and her baby daughter (named Naomi for the first time in this episode), Neelix talking about his past as a trader, and those he lost in the Talaxian war, that it shows what an encyclopaedic mind Fuller must have to be able to work all these pieces in. We're reminded of all the pain Neelix went through eleven years ago losing his family, and I don't think we'd seen such a powerful acting performance for Ethan Phillips since 'Jetrel,' and probably never again - definitely one of his best episodes!

One of the biggest loose ends of the series must be Naomi, whom we saw as a baby and now appears to be a young girl (explainable by her Ktarian heritage, and nothing to do with production being easier with a minor than a baby!). Brooke Stephens is the second (unless there were multiple babies 'performing' the role previously), of three to play the role (unless you count future Naomi), and is much more of a conventional child actress than Scarlett Pomers would be, but it works fine for this story as Neelix is simply a reassuring presence to the tot, giving her something he himself is in desperate need of, and probably the main reason he comes back from the brink, even if he didn't necessarily think of the parallels between him and Naomi. I always liked when they brought in recurring characters, it made Voyager seem more like a real family crew instead of a small group of officers who nod to the others as they pass in corridors. Samantha wasn't the richest character, a career Starfleet officer who became a Mum in one of the worst environments, with no way to contact her alien husband on 'DS9' (I wish we'd seen him on that series so there was more of a crossover between them). I hate to make reference to her blonde hair, but she's remarkably dense in not noticing the charged atmosphere in the Transporter Room as Neelix is about to beam himself 'up' - she wanders in and starts chatting away, and even when she sees things aren't quite right, Chakotay successfully talking him down, she just frowns slightly and doesn't seem to think anything of it when Neelix goes off with her to tuck Naomi in! Maybe they aren't good enough friends that she could discuss it?

In defence of the story to approach such subject matter as suicide and the afterlife, I would make a few points about the direction things take. For example, the most obvious anti-faith moment comes when Alixia claims life is hopeless and there's nothing more, but she's also representative of the fear and anger in Neelix, a villainous apparition, immediately marking that point of view as a negative one. It's also true that the other characters don't really have much input on the subject of death and what it entails, the closest we come to a definitive answer being Chakotay's agnostic observation that there's still so much we don't know about death, and even suggesting (and this is a key point), that just because Neelix 'died' for eighteen hours and doesn't remember anything, he doesn't know everything there is to know on the subject (although, saying that, it would have been appropriate for him and Spock to have a conversation since they would both have a common frame of reference, something that prevented a discussion of Spock's insights with Dr. McCoy in 'Star Trek IV'!). Chakotay doesn't say this, but I thought it: Neelix didn't die permanently, so maybe he didn't go through a transformation that would have led him to the way things were described by his people. Then there's the fact that he may simply not be able to return to life with those memories of another place, a gulf between that existence and our own. It's the same argument Chakotay used in 'Emanations' when other afterlife beliefs were challenged because of lack of hard, physical evidence about ethereal matters.

It is noticeable that the other characters don't chime in with what they think, the writers probably not wanting to pin them down, and because most appear to be secular humanist, at least in creed, if not in hardline belief, and would be most likely to believe in nothing after death. The closest we come to discussion on the subject by anyone else is when Tuvok and Seven talk about the Borg having a form of immortality because a drone's memories and experiences will remain in the Collective after the irreparable unit has been discarded. She actually admits to it being something of a relief that even though she's no longer Borg, part of her will live on in the Collective, though we don't really hear anything about Vulcan views on the afterlife, which I imagine would be quite potent since we know Vulcans tend to have their katra (spirit), captured and preserved separate to the decomposition of the body. Seven's role in the piece is rather interesting because she shows such determination to carry out what might best be described as the regeneration of the dead Neelix. She marches brusquely into Sickbay and makes irrefutable statements about what must be done and how she will do it. As ever, there's no real emotion or connection between her and Neelix, she merely wishes to help a member of her new Collective for the greater good of the ship, to salvage an important component rather than save a life, referring to Neelix in cold terms and claiming she'd have done the same for any member of the crew.

On the other side of the coin, Neelix continues to be a good friend to her - while he does blow up in her face, the stresses getting too hard and Seven not understanding personal space, he later apologises and reassures her that she's in a place where people care about her. The B-story is her lack of social skills, seen in both the Prixin event, failing miserably at small talk (maybe this was where the Doctor first got the idea to school her in such etiquette?), and with the personal boundaries mentioned above with Neelix. It's made clear in the course of the episode that both he and Seven have an important part to play in this family, one that accepts them even though they're vastly different and at divergent stages of development. The main contribution Neelix would go on to make was in giving reassurance and love to the various children or childlike characters, able to speak on their level, so it's fitting that he realises this calling during the episode, influencing his final decision. One thing he says early on when Seven shows disdain for the seasoning of her food is, why settle for sufficient? That's the difference between them, one is function and directness, the other is relaxed and delights in lack of order. It's strange that the other characters only show mild disappointment at Neelix' death, rather than shock and horror, but they've all seen death before and they're professional, and if there were any doubt how much he meant to them it vanishes when Janeway talks of observing the week of mourning Talaxian custom demands - you feel they'll do whatever they can to honour him, which only makes it sadder.

There is a slight problem with Seven being able to bring someone back to life many hours after death (the Doctor bestows the accolade of a new world record, but which world? It makes me imagine 'The Guinness Book of Galactic Records' - how many Tube Grubs one Ferengi could fit in its mouth, or highest number of punches withstood by a Klingon, etc!). In the same 'vein' as 'Star Trek Into Darkness' and its miracle Khan blood, simply injected into a dead host to restore them to living colour (so I guess there was a precedent even for that!), it gives a writer too much power. Actually, it takes away the power of the writer, because it means there's very little drama to be mined from a situation if we know Seven can bring anyone back to life at any time. Somehow, I don't remember this ever affecting the series, either positively or not, but that may be because we forget about the technical side of the story as we delve into the personal: the Talaxian cost. I don't even remember Seven bringing others to life, so maybe they sidestepped that in future by restricting the amount of nanoprobes Seven could donate, or that as she becomes more human she has less dependence on them. There's actually a moral question right there that isn't even lightly addressed, which is, would it be best to keep Seven as Borg-like as possible in order to use her unique abilities and knowledge to the full? A less Starfleet ship would probably have kept her as a slave (if it could do anything against her will!), and used her as a nanoprobe farm.

Though Seven was the means to save Neelix' physical existence, she had less power even than he did to save his mind or soul. She's the worst person he could have gone to in an hour of emotional need. She has her duty to perform, monitoring the nanoprobes, but he practically explodes at her, fiercely demanding she leave him alone, in a display of rage thoroughly out of character and more disturbing for it. Seven remains unperturbed, in the same manner as later when she's visited by the regretful Talaxian. Again, she's too unfamiliar with individuality to comprehend this is Neelix saying goodbye before he tries to kill himself. Chakotay, on the other hand, excels himself and is the perfect man to talk the distraught Neelix down from the Transporter Pad where he's about to initiate the site-to-site transport out into the nebula where he was first zapped to death, and where he's decided he belongs - it's an interesting subversion of the usual outcome of someone resolving to live a better life after nearly dying. Chakotay's a firm rock throughout the episode, offering his guidance and reassurance to a Morale Officer in desperate need of morale, but I can't decide if Chakotay could have done more, or should have known Neelix better than to let himself be fobbed off with phoney comments about being at peace, Neelix telling him everything he thinks the Commander wants to hear. He couldn't do much more than set a time to talk to Neelix again when he gets off shift. But he has the running of the ship to attend to, his own life, and doesn't see through the facade, assuming he'll have plenty of time to allay the man's fears later.

I think Janeway would have seen right through him, but she isn't as present, again perhaps because she would likely be more secular in outlook and unable to offer the security and understanding of a fellow man of faith (and for the fact he wouldn't be able to fool her, thus rendering the drama moot). So there are flaws in the faithless Starfleet code, but at the same time Neelix doesn't necessarily get the best guidance from Chakotay, the vision quest the very thing that pushes him off the deep end! If Chakotay led him up the garden path with that, he did manage to say the right thing at the crucial moment: not to throw away a lifetime's worth of faith and hope on one assumption, one 'anomalous incident,' as he puts it. I never had the impression Neelix was a particularly dedicated follower of his people's spiritual customs, being a futuristic rag-and-bone wanderer, perhaps casting himself out of his race's company for the guilt and memories of happy times when his family still lived. It's at this point, reacting to his death, Neelix is at his most honest - he admits he has a crisis of belief, seeks help and understanding, but when that doesn't provide a quick fix, dark thoughts get the better of him. It's deeply moving to see the guy who tries hard to keep everyone else happy with his upbeat, inclusive presence, going through such a lonely ordeal within himself.

He puts a brave face on it, but you can see a bitterness in his eyes at the Prixin festival which celebrates family, the crew making speeches (specifically Tuvok with his traditional Talaxian speech, characteristically longwinded and annoying for that race, and reminding me a lot of Hobbit culture!), and having a good time in honour of his people's customary party, hopelessness and disappointment held in check, though it looks like he's almost ready to decry the whole thing and storm away - but that would be to show his true face, and he's too proud for that, maybe he even thinks it's unfair to the others to ruin their fun, or maybe that's what he tells himself, when really it's the pride of keeping the turmoil to himself. And so he's even more alone in the midst of his adoptive family than in his quarters. He takes the first out that springs up, putting Naomi Wildman to bed, but even there his once-cherished beliefs are raked up by the guileless child wanting to hear them again, and he can barely force out a repeat of the magical story he told before. A complex mental battle was being waged, in some ways he was almost convincing himself to go through with suicide as punishment for believing what he had for so long. But I don't think he wanted to do something that selfish, it was just a strong reaction to the confusion, bitter anger of stolen hope, the anguish of living around people who couldn't understand his position. So it's a pleasant ending when we see the final scene, Naomi dreaming contentedly of sitting under the Guiding Tree, Neelix' warmhearted tales having inspired one little mind, even if it's left the teller uncertain. In the end, it's a sense of duty to Naomi as Godfather that wakens him to himself, balancing him at the edge of despair: a reminder he's valued, his family need him (even Seven said his role was diverse), and, as Chakotay says, even if them being his family isn't enough for Neelix, it is enough for them.

That's as far as the resolution goes and if there was one criticism I would level at the story it would be the lack of conclusion. I don't think we ever explored Neelix' mind or belief system again, nor learned whether he gave it up, continued as before, or became stronger in his faith (it also fails to address his nanoprobe dependency, and considering how proud he is, shown in his lungless existence in 'Phage,' and that when he had Kes as comfort, this would be a big deal, so I don't know if that was addressed again or left in the background, too). It's left for us to imagine, not entirely satisfactory, but unlike many of the series' conclusions, it feels much closer to the ambiguousness of 'DS9' (interestingly, Chief O'Brien went through the same contemplation and attempt in a similar mid-Season 4 slot). Maybe a lifetime is needed to resolve his issues, but I'd have liked to know. I expected the family element to be played up, the message of the episode to be that even though death 'may' be the end, the people who are living now need us, as we need them, and accepting life is the answer rather than cowardly suicidal escape. A kind of secular happy ending. But that isn't the conclusion I draw, merely that family was a strong reason not to pull the trigger on this existence. In the end it doesn't explore the afterlife in any way, treading safer ground on the position of faith in life, and how hope is such a strong basis for living, and I find it a fascinating hefting up of the Neelix stone to see what's underneath, and a reminder how great a character he is through a terrific, rough and uncompromising drama.

Neelix claims the cylinder he had was almost lost to the Kazon, but it looks identical to the one he used in 'Fair Trade,' which was much later. The Kazon also provide us with the first recorded incident of Borg bigotry, with Seven saying the Borg deemed them unworthy of assimilation! To me, this seems ridiculous (if funny - an inside joke about how weak many people felt the Kazon were as villains). But the Borg have never been seen to be fussy before! Maybe the Delta Quadrant branch are purer, closer to their Queen and the centre of Borg space, and so they can afford to reject some, but I would have thought any living creature could be Borgified for use as a drone in service of their goals, rather than allowed freedom (maybe they killed them?). There's some beautiful CGI work, mainly on the nebula, like the Badlands injected with rainbows - sadly, the shuttle interior remained dark, they should have opened the side hatches for a better lighting effect (but more work). Like the previous episode there's the technical achievement of freezing a character: unless Robert Duncan McNeill is really good at holding still! The Alixia disintegration was terrific and shocking in its day, but wasn't as striking now, obviously unreal, and probably would have worked better as practical makeup, though it may have been too gruesome for Trek. And lastly, Janeway's assertion that no one had been resuscitated from death after that length of time before, must be wrong - surely there are incidences in Starfleet records! How long did it take Spock's body to regenerate on Genesis?

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