DVD, Smallville S1 (Craving)
This was the first time I watched this episode and realised who Amy Adams was - she's now a big film star, but I'd never made that connection before as she's not really someone who I know much about, just a name and a face, so it was fun to recognise her now. I could almost say that was the only thing of note in this episode, which I've always considered as one of the weakest of the season, and the first to carry the low point in a stream of good or great ones. Partly it's due to me finding it hard to identify with a teenage girl's weight issues, but it's also because this was the first one that truly felt gross. Sure, bug boy was nasty, and the freaks-of-the-week have each been on that spectrum to some degree or another, but there's something about consumption that's disgusting. If we could only see the digestion processes in our own bodies we'd probably be put off eating, but this episode takes things further, into cannibal territory, and that's a sinister, deviant direction, even for this series. It's not true cannibalism, Jodie isn't biting into people, she's just sucking out their fat, but the image of her mouth extending unnaturally wide as she crouches over her victims is sickening and chilling in the extreme. Unlike some of the freaks she's not a bad lass, she even tries to limit her 'powers' for use on bad people and animals, giving Pete the chance to escape until the instinct to feed on him becomes too strong for her to control. It's a mental issue as much as a physical one, and the episode does a reasonable job of tackling a relevant issue to its target audience, though it is only a surface exploration.
That's the way the 'sin' of the week is explored most of the time, it's mainly as a catalyst to get Clark to a place where he needs to fend off, or protect someone else from, the opponent. Because of this it's often the in-between bits of the series, the lives we're seeing played out on screen, that are more compelling to watch than the main plot of someone going wacky from meteor exposure. The skill is in how well the writers converge these two elements, as well as the ongoing hints of arcs that we get: this time it's the continuing saga of Lex trying to put Whitney out of the picture (when he admits to Lana that he knew the 'Quarterback,' as he calls him, was offered a tryout for a football scholarship out of town on her birthday, you suspect he had something to do with it, since someone else who would have been offered it had to drop out…), by setting Clark up to be her escort for the big 'do' at his Mansion, organised by Nell. It's also about his interest in his apparently perfect health that leads him to wonder about the many stories of weirdness in the town, and to meet Chloe, Editor of the Torch, and proud purveyor of the Wall of Weird and it's theories that give LuthorCorp a challenge to the top suspect in the cause of anything untoward in the area. In that respect it's very interesting: we get another recurring character in Dr. Hamilton, a meteor expert who would grow in importance across the season and into the next one, and we get Lex meeting Chloe. I like that things have been organic as Lex has become more and more embroiled in the high school life of Clark and his friends rather than rushing into it unrealistically.
Not that the series is always that realistic, but it shows that in these early days things were still quite grounded and low key when you take out the dramatic freak-of-the-week stuff. It wasn't globally threatening, it was intimate and cosy, whether that was visiting the various key locales such as the Kent Farm, the Luthor Mansion, or any other recurring places, and they weren't just placeholders to jump to as they became in later seasons. Again, it's the strong feeling of community and bright, sunny, young American life that helps to make the series a draw, not a series of growing puzzles and mysteries to be solved. There's enough ongoing to leaven a sense of mystery in some of the characters, particularly Lex (I noticed you can sometimes see the Apple logo on the back of his laptop, and other times it's blocked out with a covering sticker as if they weren't sure they wanted to show product branding or not, even though in this case it'd make sense as Mac was the more luxuriant and expensive brand for those with taste), and Clark. Their friendship continues to be a fascination, and I like how the adults are included, too, it's not all about the 'Scooby Gang' of Clark, Chloe and Pete, solving mysteries and battling monsters, so there are multiple levels to the stories and they can pick and choose what to include and what to focus on from week to week.
The 'fat' makeup Amy Adams wore was pretty effective, and it's clear they were trying to address the issues of anorexia and bulimia which perhaps weren't quite as well known two decades ago as they are now. Her issue is with vanity, sparked by the unkind comments of her contemporaries, but she seems to be liked by Pete at least, even before she made her meteor-infected veggie shakes, something she's not that attuned to because she's so obsessed with thinking she looks bad. I wondered if the chubby guy that calls her names and that she later takes revenge on was also wearing a fat suit as we see him almost skeletal-faced after his fat's been sucked out, though this could have been CGI. The computer graphics range from very good (the widening jaw of Jodie), to pretty bad (the brief shot of the deer she bumps into), but if the thin-face of insult boy was CGI that was quite accomplished. Things do degenerate a little, and once again it takes Chloe and gang a while to get to the conclusion there's a 'fat vampire' around, despite the heads-up they've had by all the other weirdness in Smallville, and it turns into Clark having a small confrontation in the poly tunnel of meteor-infected soil. But because Jodie is always a sympathetic character it's not like it's a fair challenge - he's hardly going to throw her around, and indeed it's the sight of her own grimacing reflection that stops things, where Clark then has to prevent her suicide.
Things do pick up in the last scene where Clark gives Lana her touching birthday present: bringing her favourite memory to life of watching cartoons at a drive-in as she did with her parents as a young child, a truly great ending to a patchy episode that is at times hard to like. It's not that it's bad, it's just too disturbing occasionally, and a bit slow to go anywhere, plus it doesn't really do much for sufferers of either food-related conditions that it seems to address. There are plenty of things here and there that make it not all that bad an episode, and certainly by the standards of later seasons it would be higher than average, but judged by this season it's certainly the weakest so far.
**
Tuesday, 22 October 2019
Star Wars Episode I Racer
N64, Star Wars Episode I Racer (1999) game
What summed up this game for me was an evening where I spent over two hours attempting to take first on the 'Abyss' track in the Invitational Tournament. At first it seemed impossible, but with continual practice, persistence and patience, one more go after one more go, I gradually saw my performance improve until I reached that sweet goal of first place. It was worth the effort, and that's why this game is more than the sum of its junkyard parts: okay graphics, irritating voices, repetitive sound effects and music. The challenge is the thing. You sense these racers don't cheat, and everyone's in it to try hard, and while the environment is often severe and hostile, making even a slight bang into the side of the track burst your podracer into little chunks, or an opponent might smash into the back of you with the same result, there is definitely a unique feel to the racing that you don't get in either ordinary car varieties or other fantasy racers like the 'F-Zero' series. It takes a lot of getting used to, but once it clicks and you get to know the tracks, where to air brake, when to lift you finger off the accelerator, the time to turn hard or smooth, whether to push forwards to reach boost status on a straight, it becomes quite the tactical experience, and I can't think of any other racer where you have to factor in the best moment to make repairs on the fly, at the risk of further damage or a loss in speed.
It's not really much of a 'Star Wars' game, in that there's not a lot of familiarity beyond a few recognisable faces (C-3PO, R2-D2 and Jar Jar Binks all show up at Watto's), and what there is quickly becomes annoying (Watto's incessant chatter, repeating the same few phrases over and over - don't get me wrong, at the time speech in games was still exciting in itself, but now it grates like a podracer on the side of a rock face!), it's more about weird and way-out alien landscapes which are probably in some non-canon book somewhere that I couldn't care less about, and wacky characters that you aren't ever really going to know. The environments are sufficiently diverse, but it would have been better if we'd seen more recognisable locales. I'm not saying there should have been a Death Star Trench Run track (please, no!), but somewhere like the streets of Bespin might have been suitable rather than places only those interested in deep lore would know. But it's pretty slick, it's fairly fast (not in the 'F-Zero' league, but what is?), and in the Hi-Res mode it looks pretty sharp and smooth (this was another game I chose to replay partly because it worked on my monitor without a VGA adaptor, just like 'Daikatana,' and also, I simply still had an empty file to play on without having to delete an old one which I don't like to). But it's in the racing that it does reasonably well. For a chunk of the game I wasn't very impressed, considering it either too easy or too hard, but when I got to that 'Abyss' level and succeeded through good old fashioned persistence and stubborn repetition, I realised I was having a good time.
I always take nostalgia into account for an old game (in the game's favour), and in some ways there couldn't be much more nostalgia for me than this one: it followed on from my favourite film of 1999, 'Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace,' which I still love to this day, and was singlehandedly responsible for setting me on the path of N64 ownership. Since it's now twenty years since I got the console, it seems a good time to tell this simple tale: I was always pro-Nintendo, ever since getting a second-hand Game Boy in the mid-90s, so I was predisposed to consider their N64 as my potential console of choice. I'd earned a bit of money by making a deal with an Aunt and an Uncle, who would each give me a certain amount of money for each GCSE I passed with A-C grades, and I passed all of them so I had this money at the end of the summer to spend. I don't know what first gave me the idea to buy a games console, but I know that early in my first year at college we went out into the town on a photography assignment to photograph various things and return later. While there, myself and a friend visited some shops, and in HMV I had a go on this very game. It seemed astounding to me that there was this 3D camera view that swirled round your podracer at the beginning of the race, and it all seemed so fast and smooth and exciting that it was the decider that made me choose the N64. And I never looked back. I wonder how different things would have been if I'd got into Playstation instead? I'd have missed out on some amazing experiences so I made the right choice.
Obviously twenty years later I wasn't particularly expecting the game to hold up that well. For one thing it's a film licence and as a rule that still holds true, games and films don't mix well. It's also a game I've rarely gone back to, though I had raced two files so I must have had another run through at some time, but it only allowed for two players maximum and so wasn't one of those multiplayer experiences that warranted playing as no one else I knew was really into it. So it was a pleasant surprise that it held up fairly strongly, not a great game by any measure, but solid, dependable, and as I said before, a challenge. Ody Mandrell was my racer of choice on this third play-through, and only the first time I'd ever actually completed every track without cheating - on my original file I got stuck on 'Grabvine Gateway' in the Galactic Podracing Circuit, and on my second file I'd used a button code or some such sneaky trick to bypass 'Abyss' on the Invitational Circuit, so it was a particularly pleasing challenge to beat. Some later tracks were surprisingly easy (I think I won 'The Gauntlet' on my first go, and 'Inferno' only took a few attempts, the final two tracks you unlock), while others were rock hard, so progress was a little uneven and frustration set in when you can only race the next track rather than having multiple options to play through.
It's tough that you can only win Truguts once in each race, so in order to upgrade your podracer you need to come first or second, and may as well quit otherwise. Playing the junkyard 'stock market' didn't seem to be an option as you could only seem to sell it back to Watto in his shop at the same price you paid, though if that had been a way to make money it would have been great fun and given more incentive to keep finishing a track you were failing at because there would be new items on offer. Still, it was details like this that gave it more depth rather than simply racing, which is what makes it stand proudly next to other racing games on the system. There were irritants, of course, the main one being that voices became rather annoying, with every little scratch or dent eliciting a yelp, and as I said, Watto's repetitive babble didn't help. And the fact that your podracer was so susceptible to damage. But the tactical nature of it all pulled you through, and only persistence, and balancing the needs of speed and care, as well as some intelligent use of shortcuts would win on some tracks.
Once you'd beaten 'The Boonta Classic,' the final main track, and a recreation of the one from the film, all you got were some scrolling end credits, not even a clip from the film or Liam Neeson telling you how well you did, which is a bit disappointing, but if you go on to come first in all the Invitationals as well, you unlock the option to play every track in a mirrored version. Unfortunately, unlike 'Diddy Kong Racing' and its gift to you to play the entire game through like the first time (except mirrored), it doesn't make any difference if you win a mirror track, so you may as well not bother - there's no sign on the tournament screens that show what position you'd achieved, and only the top record and best lap to register any specific difference for each track. Otherwise I might have been tempted to play through them again to add another '1st' to the screens, because it was so challenging, and a real struggle to wrestle victory from the tracks sometimes - and it was the tracks rather than the other podracers that you feel you're battling, what with so many objects to collide with and wipe you out with a whoosh of debris, or the side of the track to land a glancing blow that does the same. It was well presented, as film licenced games usually are, but it had had more effort expended on its gameplay than that might signify, and lived up to the other good 'Star Wars' games on the system nicely.
***
What summed up this game for me was an evening where I spent over two hours attempting to take first on the 'Abyss' track in the Invitational Tournament. At first it seemed impossible, but with continual practice, persistence and patience, one more go after one more go, I gradually saw my performance improve until I reached that sweet goal of first place. It was worth the effort, and that's why this game is more than the sum of its junkyard parts: okay graphics, irritating voices, repetitive sound effects and music. The challenge is the thing. You sense these racers don't cheat, and everyone's in it to try hard, and while the environment is often severe and hostile, making even a slight bang into the side of the track burst your podracer into little chunks, or an opponent might smash into the back of you with the same result, there is definitely a unique feel to the racing that you don't get in either ordinary car varieties or other fantasy racers like the 'F-Zero' series. It takes a lot of getting used to, but once it clicks and you get to know the tracks, where to air brake, when to lift you finger off the accelerator, the time to turn hard or smooth, whether to push forwards to reach boost status on a straight, it becomes quite the tactical experience, and I can't think of any other racer where you have to factor in the best moment to make repairs on the fly, at the risk of further damage or a loss in speed.
It's not really much of a 'Star Wars' game, in that there's not a lot of familiarity beyond a few recognisable faces (C-3PO, R2-D2 and Jar Jar Binks all show up at Watto's), and what there is quickly becomes annoying (Watto's incessant chatter, repeating the same few phrases over and over - don't get me wrong, at the time speech in games was still exciting in itself, but now it grates like a podracer on the side of a rock face!), it's more about weird and way-out alien landscapes which are probably in some non-canon book somewhere that I couldn't care less about, and wacky characters that you aren't ever really going to know. The environments are sufficiently diverse, but it would have been better if we'd seen more recognisable locales. I'm not saying there should have been a Death Star Trench Run track (please, no!), but somewhere like the streets of Bespin might have been suitable rather than places only those interested in deep lore would know. But it's pretty slick, it's fairly fast (not in the 'F-Zero' league, but what is?), and in the Hi-Res mode it looks pretty sharp and smooth (this was another game I chose to replay partly because it worked on my monitor without a VGA adaptor, just like 'Daikatana,' and also, I simply still had an empty file to play on without having to delete an old one which I don't like to). But it's in the racing that it does reasonably well. For a chunk of the game I wasn't very impressed, considering it either too easy or too hard, but when I got to that 'Abyss' level and succeeded through good old fashioned persistence and stubborn repetition, I realised I was having a good time.
I always take nostalgia into account for an old game (in the game's favour), and in some ways there couldn't be much more nostalgia for me than this one: it followed on from my favourite film of 1999, 'Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace,' which I still love to this day, and was singlehandedly responsible for setting me on the path of N64 ownership. Since it's now twenty years since I got the console, it seems a good time to tell this simple tale: I was always pro-Nintendo, ever since getting a second-hand Game Boy in the mid-90s, so I was predisposed to consider their N64 as my potential console of choice. I'd earned a bit of money by making a deal with an Aunt and an Uncle, who would each give me a certain amount of money for each GCSE I passed with A-C grades, and I passed all of them so I had this money at the end of the summer to spend. I don't know what first gave me the idea to buy a games console, but I know that early in my first year at college we went out into the town on a photography assignment to photograph various things and return later. While there, myself and a friend visited some shops, and in HMV I had a go on this very game. It seemed astounding to me that there was this 3D camera view that swirled round your podracer at the beginning of the race, and it all seemed so fast and smooth and exciting that it was the decider that made me choose the N64. And I never looked back. I wonder how different things would have been if I'd got into Playstation instead? I'd have missed out on some amazing experiences so I made the right choice.
Obviously twenty years later I wasn't particularly expecting the game to hold up that well. For one thing it's a film licence and as a rule that still holds true, games and films don't mix well. It's also a game I've rarely gone back to, though I had raced two files so I must have had another run through at some time, but it only allowed for two players maximum and so wasn't one of those multiplayer experiences that warranted playing as no one else I knew was really into it. So it was a pleasant surprise that it held up fairly strongly, not a great game by any measure, but solid, dependable, and as I said before, a challenge. Ody Mandrell was my racer of choice on this third play-through, and only the first time I'd ever actually completed every track without cheating - on my original file I got stuck on 'Grabvine Gateway' in the Galactic Podracing Circuit, and on my second file I'd used a button code or some such sneaky trick to bypass 'Abyss' on the Invitational Circuit, so it was a particularly pleasing challenge to beat. Some later tracks were surprisingly easy (I think I won 'The Gauntlet' on my first go, and 'Inferno' only took a few attempts, the final two tracks you unlock), while others were rock hard, so progress was a little uneven and frustration set in when you can only race the next track rather than having multiple options to play through.
It's tough that you can only win Truguts once in each race, so in order to upgrade your podracer you need to come first or second, and may as well quit otherwise. Playing the junkyard 'stock market' didn't seem to be an option as you could only seem to sell it back to Watto in his shop at the same price you paid, though if that had been a way to make money it would have been great fun and given more incentive to keep finishing a track you were failing at because there would be new items on offer. Still, it was details like this that gave it more depth rather than simply racing, which is what makes it stand proudly next to other racing games on the system. There were irritants, of course, the main one being that voices became rather annoying, with every little scratch or dent eliciting a yelp, and as I said, Watto's repetitive babble didn't help. And the fact that your podracer was so susceptible to damage. But the tactical nature of it all pulled you through, and only persistence, and balancing the needs of speed and care, as well as some intelligent use of shortcuts would win on some tracks.
Once you'd beaten 'The Boonta Classic,' the final main track, and a recreation of the one from the film, all you got were some scrolling end credits, not even a clip from the film or Liam Neeson telling you how well you did, which is a bit disappointing, but if you go on to come first in all the Invitationals as well, you unlock the option to play every track in a mirrored version. Unfortunately, unlike 'Diddy Kong Racing' and its gift to you to play the entire game through like the first time (except mirrored), it doesn't make any difference if you win a mirror track, so you may as well not bother - there's no sign on the tournament screens that show what position you'd achieved, and only the top record and best lap to register any specific difference for each track. Otherwise I might have been tempted to play through them again to add another '1st' to the screens, because it was so challenging, and a real struggle to wrestle victory from the tracks sometimes - and it was the tracks rather than the other podracers that you feel you're battling, what with so many objects to collide with and wipe you out with a whoosh of debris, or the side of the track to land a glancing blow that does the same. It was well presented, as film licenced games usually are, but it had had more effort expended on its gameplay than that might signify, and lived up to the other good 'Star Wars' games on the system nicely.
***
Tuesday, 15 October 2019
Hourglass
DVD, Smallville S1 (Hourglass)
The first to show the true potential of the series, this has long been a favourite of mine, but seeing it now, with the whole future of the series mapped out does change my perspective a little. Not that it lessens the power of the episode, it still has quite an impact, right down to the last line of the episode in which the bittersweet realisation of Cassandra Carver's words comes to us, but it seems more contained than it used to as a story: because I know what happens with each of the characters in the future and it's not quite as scripted because the series went way off base. I particularly wanted to know what Pete's future held, knowing that he's going to leave the series and only come back one time many seasons later, but in his case her little flash of inspiration is more like a parlour trick, telling him about it being a long walk home, and then he realises he's left the car keys in the vehicle. As wonderfully crafted as the final line of the episode is, it's also similarly stagey of Cassandra to predict that someone close to Clark would die, then it turns out to be her. Why did she have to worry him, she knew it was to be herself, right? And why didn't Clark see that vision, when he did see the later one of his outliving everyone on Earth? Story convenience, that's why. It is easy to nitpick a story about the future, or about someone being able to see flashes of it, but that doesn't mean the episode as a whole isn't well crafted and uses the characters really well.
At this stage of the season and series, so fresh and green as a Kryptonite meteorite as it was, it was exciting to see the hallmarks of the main hero and 'villain' glimpsed. Sure, we didn't see Superman, that would have been going too far, and Clark's graveyard vision was more a metaphor of his indestructibility than it was a real event (another variation in what Cassandra could see!), but we get a sense of his 'destiny,' his 'fate,' two words that are integral to the series, but I'm not sure if they're pro- or anti- such concepts. Lex is the bad-guy-in-waiting, but he believes in controlling his own future, while Clark is all ready to jump on board with his destiny being to help folks. His parents are staunchly against it, but aren't above using the idea glibly to say that their destiny is to protect him. In the end it comes down to what the series did with itself, and argue for or against the quality of what they churned out for ten years, it's hard not to say that they were in the anti- camp ultimately since things turned out so differently from the mythos we knew. Many elements held true, but in this variation, this 'universe' or 'reality,' however you want to view 'Smallville' in the context of the wider mythology, it didn't become exactly what you'd expect. I have the feeling that Lex as Pres, white suit, Oval Office thing was touched on again, but I don't recall, there have been so many episodes (too many that were unmemorable), but it's a good touch (or a bad one for Cassandra), that the old woman dies from how bad Lex' future could be, or at least, that's how I read it.
I don't think I ever recognised him before, but the guy playing Harry Volk is George Murdock, best known to me for Admiral Hansen in 'TNG' and the fake 'God' face in 'Star Trek V,' so it was fun to see him, and he did a terrific job of being chillingly manipulative. And it's another good idea for someone with a unique power for Clark to confront. In this case it wasn't so much what he could do, as what he was willing to do: the murder of the descendants of the jurors that put him away for murder. He was no match for Clark, but he has the brains of an older man, and not just any older man, but a schemer that had brooded on his lost career for decades and had the full vigour of youth to tempt him to any extreme. Even so, I always wonder why Clark fights people by flinging them across space! The reason has to be that if he actually thumped 'em, he'd probably kill 'em, so he can't do that. At least we got the fate of the freak-of-the-week this time, drowned in a hail of corn that almost took out Martha Kent, too. The series is at its most intense when someone essentially harmless and powerless such as Martha is hunted, and you feel so proud of her for fighting back in any way she can - she shows huge bravery, and rather than sink into a weeping foetal ball on the floor she's sprightly enough to make every effort to escape this murderous intruder who is even more hideous for entering the happy home of the Kents that is usually so full of warmth and light.
I found, as I have been doing with these episodes that I can't help but wish for more in them, and in this case the fish out of water idea of this old man trying to fit into youth culture as his camouflage, should have been turned up a notch. Except that he was a very arrogant and forthright person, so he's never at a loss. He makes a great villain, but his story is almost the side order to the main meal of Cassandra's farseeing gift and what it could mean for direction in Clark's largely directionless life. What's just as interesting is that the usually confident and assured Lex is uncomfortable at first with her offer of a look into the future, later coming back. I was surprised that the investigation into his car from which Clark pulled him in the accident was so open and that he just shows Clark and asks him for more information, rather than going back into the Roger Nixon storyline. Again, this is the start of a running circular narrative in which Clark brushes things off and people like Lex question him, or others about him, saying how mysterious he is, while he's just trying to be 'ordinary American teen.' It was almost as if they just threw that scene in there and it could have featured in any episode, though it does strengthen Lex' resolve to try and find something out from Cassandra.
We can see the parallels between some of the characters again, with Lex, Clark and Lana all in different stages on the same path of trying to work out who they are and what they're going to do with their lives. Funny to think that years after this episode where the old guy uses a record player to listen to his music, that form of playing came back so that you can actually buy vinyl and machines to play them on! No accounting for the fads of people's tastes! Also good to see Sheriff Ethan again as the guy who comes to take Harry into custody at the hospital, adding another layer of reality to proceedings. It still comes across as a little odd that Cassandra would worry Clark about who was going to die if she could see who, but maybe it was an old woman's fancy and she thought this young man wouldn't come back unless he had a taste of something weird and exciting, not realising he has his fill of such things every week. And here's to George Murdock, who has died in the time since I last watched the episode, at the age of eighty-one in 2012. I wouldn't be surprised if the old woman was also no longer with us, and it's still strange to me that watching this series now is so long ago compared with how it feels. Lastly, the shot of the knife shattering on Clark was one of those early indications of some of the clever CGI effects they could pull off on the series that set it apart from TV that came before.
****
The first to show the true potential of the series, this has long been a favourite of mine, but seeing it now, with the whole future of the series mapped out does change my perspective a little. Not that it lessens the power of the episode, it still has quite an impact, right down to the last line of the episode in which the bittersweet realisation of Cassandra Carver's words comes to us, but it seems more contained than it used to as a story: because I know what happens with each of the characters in the future and it's not quite as scripted because the series went way off base. I particularly wanted to know what Pete's future held, knowing that he's going to leave the series and only come back one time many seasons later, but in his case her little flash of inspiration is more like a parlour trick, telling him about it being a long walk home, and then he realises he's left the car keys in the vehicle. As wonderfully crafted as the final line of the episode is, it's also similarly stagey of Cassandra to predict that someone close to Clark would die, then it turns out to be her. Why did she have to worry him, she knew it was to be herself, right? And why didn't Clark see that vision, when he did see the later one of his outliving everyone on Earth? Story convenience, that's why. It is easy to nitpick a story about the future, or about someone being able to see flashes of it, but that doesn't mean the episode as a whole isn't well crafted and uses the characters really well.
At this stage of the season and series, so fresh and green as a Kryptonite meteorite as it was, it was exciting to see the hallmarks of the main hero and 'villain' glimpsed. Sure, we didn't see Superman, that would have been going too far, and Clark's graveyard vision was more a metaphor of his indestructibility than it was a real event (another variation in what Cassandra could see!), but we get a sense of his 'destiny,' his 'fate,' two words that are integral to the series, but I'm not sure if they're pro- or anti- such concepts. Lex is the bad-guy-in-waiting, but he believes in controlling his own future, while Clark is all ready to jump on board with his destiny being to help folks. His parents are staunchly against it, but aren't above using the idea glibly to say that their destiny is to protect him. In the end it comes down to what the series did with itself, and argue for or against the quality of what they churned out for ten years, it's hard not to say that they were in the anti- camp ultimately since things turned out so differently from the mythos we knew. Many elements held true, but in this variation, this 'universe' or 'reality,' however you want to view 'Smallville' in the context of the wider mythology, it didn't become exactly what you'd expect. I have the feeling that Lex as Pres, white suit, Oval Office thing was touched on again, but I don't recall, there have been so many episodes (too many that were unmemorable), but it's a good touch (or a bad one for Cassandra), that the old woman dies from how bad Lex' future could be, or at least, that's how I read it.
I don't think I ever recognised him before, but the guy playing Harry Volk is George Murdock, best known to me for Admiral Hansen in 'TNG' and the fake 'God' face in 'Star Trek V,' so it was fun to see him, and he did a terrific job of being chillingly manipulative. And it's another good idea for someone with a unique power for Clark to confront. In this case it wasn't so much what he could do, as what he was willing to do: the murder of the descendants of the jurors that put him away for murder. He was no match for Clark, but he has the brains of an older man, and not just any older man, but a schemer that had brooded on his lost career for decades and had the full vigour of youth to tempt him to any extreme. Even so, I always wonder why Clark fights people by flinging them across space! The reason has to be that if he actually thumped 'em, he'd probably kill 'em, so he can't do that. At least we got the fate of the freak-of-the-week this time, drowned in a hail of corn that almost took out Martha Kent, too. The series is at its most intense when someone essentially harmless and powerless such as Martha is hunted, and you feel so proud of her for fighting back in any way she can - she shows huge bravery, and rather than sink into a weeping foetal ball on the floor she's sprightly enough to make every effort to escape this murderous intruder who is even more hideous for entering the happy home of the Kents that is usually so full of warmth and light.
I found, as I have been doing with these episodes that I can't help but wish for more in them, and in this case the fish out of water idea of this old man trying to fit into youth culture as his camouflage, should have been turned up a notch. Except that he was a very arrogant and forthright person, so he's never at a loss. He makes a great villain, but his story is almost the side order to the main meal of Cassandra's farseeing gift and what it could mean for direction in Clark's largely directionless life. What's just as interesting is that the usually confident and assured Lex is uncomfortable at first with her offer of a look into the future, later coming back. I was surprised that the investigation into his car from which Clark pulled him in the accident was so open and that he just shows Clark and asks him for more information, rather than going back into the Roger Nixon storyline. Again, this is the start of a running circular narrative in which Clark brushes things off and people like Lex question him, or others about him, saying how mysterious he is, while he's just trying to be 'ordinary American teen.' It was almost as if they just threw that scene in there and it could have featured in any episode, though it does strengthen Lex' resolve to try and find something out from Cassandra.
We can see the parallels between some of the characters again, with Lex, Clark and Lana all in different stages on the same path of trying to work out who they are and what they're going to do with their lives. Funny to think that years after this episode where the old guy uses a record player to listen to his music, that form of playing came back so that you can actually buy vinyl and machines to play them on! No accounting for the fads of people's tastes! Also good to see Sheriff Ethan again as the guy who comes to take Harry into custody at the hospital, adding another layer of reality to proceedings. It still comes across as a little odd that Cassandra would worry Clark about who was going to die if she could see who, but maybe it was an old woman's fancy and she thought this young man wouldn't come back unless he had a taste of something weird and exciting, not realising he has his fill of such things every week. And here's to George Murdock, who has died in the time since I last watched the episode, at the age of eighty-one in 2012. I wouldn't be surprised if the old woman was also no longer with us, and it's still strange to me that watching this series now is so long ago compared with how it feels. Lastly, the shot of the knife shattering on Clark was one of those early indications of some of the clever CGI effects they could pull off on the series that set it apart from TV that came before.
****
Extreme Measures (2)
DVD, DS9 S7 (Extreme Measures) (2)
Extreme is the ideal word to use for the pared down nature of this one, standing sets only, two characters for most of the time, and an impression of a slight story being padded out. But that would be to miss the point: this is a last look at the great friendship of two men, and if some scenes aren't really necessary (such as in the Turbolift when they keep dropping, or the slow discussion in the Defiant's corridor of the love between friends being stronger and deeper than that between a man and his wife), they are there to give us this gift of seeing the partnership of O'Brien and Bashir as the sole focus of an episode one final time. It's also the chance for the series to do one last sci-fi story, one more weird reality to explore, with the stakes as high as Odo's life on one hand, O'Brien and Bashir's in another, and the potential to take down the immoral Section 31 to cap it all. The balance couldn't be hanging more! You could say it's a stage play, and while it doesn't have the power and drive of some that stuck a couple of people in a room for the duration to hash things out, as seen in a number of Treks, it's a gentler, quieter story that is perhaps fonder of the two men at its centre, showing why they work so well as a team: Julian with his genetically advanced abilities (he can control his vital functions as a switch to get them out of the mind of their enemy; can work out the complicated diagnostics of the fancy equipment the use; can keep track of exact time without the aid of a timepiece; can get past Quark's lock on the bar, and score a bullseye on the dartboard from distance), and O'Brien with his common sense and grounded nature.
Both need each other's skills as they take on one of their biggest challenges: to enter the compartmentalised mind of a villain of the highest order, a man for whom morals have no absolute, except for the mandate to preserve the Federation. Section 31's goal are laudable, it's just their method that is at fault, their willingness to go against everything the Federation stands for in order that it can keep standing. There's much debate to be had about whether it is better for such an august organisation with such great goals of peace and an intergalactic community to survive at any cost, or whether the change that is constant in a shifting universe means the Federation, like all other empires before it, would eventually fall, and should be allowed to - as Bashir predicted in his wild future imaginings in 'Statistical Probabilities,' even if the Dominion conquered the whole galaxy, at some future date a rebellion would rise up to overthrow it. It's just that the Federation's principles are upheld in secret by a rotten core, a controversial, though fascinating reveal during Season 6 of this series, and one that has run and run through every incarnation created since 'DS9' ended.
It is sad, in a way, that the 'perfect' humanity of Trek that Roddenberry strived for, should be admitted to be supported by the actions of a deviant few that will stop at nothing to preserve it, though all too realistic. It's not that secret services are wrong in themselves: Starfleet Intelligence isn't vilified, but is a useful data-gathering organisation that combats known threats and uncovers unknown ones. Section 31 goes deeper, taking proactive steps to ensure threats are dealt with as early as possible (but they were still found wanting on many occasions when you think of the terrible events throughout Federation history). Hence the infecting of Odo way back in Season 4. At least that's what Bashir and O'Brien had surmised, but we can't know for absolute certainty that that's when it happened. The case is strengthened in this episode, however, by the surprise, and obscure mention of the former Federation President of the time, Jaresh-Inyo, who was in the very two-parter that Odo was supposedly infected - 31 had one of their men in his cabinet according to data Bashir unearths in Sloan's mind! How much of what happened in there was fiction, though, that's the question? A mind as devious and complex as that of the agent, could be full of falsehood and deception so that we don't know what's true or made up. That last scene in the room with all the Padds and papers scattered around the reclining Sloan, flashes rending the air every few moments, was the most dramatic and exciting visual, but it means even more when seen as a trap for Bashir's curiosity.
The Doctor was so intent on taking down 31 that he would have stayed to his doom, greedily sucking up Sloan's secrets, except for O'Brien's straight and steady presence, there to remind him that Sloan wants him to die and will use any bait to keep him there. So Section 31 is not destroyed as Bashir hoped - the main goal was to retrieve the cure for Odo's disease and save his life, taking out 31 was merely a secondary objective, one that would have been an uphill struggle, a tacking into the wind, but if possible, a major moral victory. So 31 is still there to be used in future productions, something I wouldn't be surprised about 'Picard' getting to eventually, in keeping with 'Enterprise,' the Kelvin Timeline films, and 'Discovery.' There's even supposed to be a series coming focused on this errant cabal (set in the 23rd Century), which shows how far things have gone in our world: that Trek would happily create a series based around this evil spectre at the base of the Federation's white tower, rather than concentrate on the evil in the galaxy which our heroes oppose, suggests a move away from the idealistic, utopian, uplifting, optimistic worldview (or universeview), that Trek had portrayed before, shows how low our view has become that so many audiences crave wrongness and characters that are essentially evil - the success of major TV shows featuring such things as sympathetic points of view bears out the point, but it's chilling to think of even Trek being sucked into this black hole of baseness when it at least was a beacon of light.
It's not the fault of 'DS9,' either - they always made it clear Section 31 was a cancer that needed to be cut off, something that was created in a dark time, not something worthy of its own series where it could be all about the cool stuff these agents get up to. You could say it's too early to pre-judge a series that hasn't been seen yet, the only fact being that Emperor Georgiou of 'DSC' will be the main character, but even that one fact suggests the calibre of the series: she was the worst character in a disappointingly negative season of Trek (I haven't even seen Season 2 yet, where she's supposed to feature more). If the 'DS9' writers were tackling such subject matter I'd have hopes that it could be a fascinatingly deep study, but on the evidence I've seen of the current crop, it will likely be fairly empty action-based rubbish with a shiny surface. Not to say that 'DS9' didn't have its share of morally questionable people or acts. You only have to look at Garak as an expert example, but he was a truly compelling character for the good that he could do, which only made his abhorrent acts the more shocking. There is a certain type of glee to be felt when someone like that does something to the enemies of our heroes that we know they wouldn't dirty their hands with, but even that is a reprehensible attitude, as compelling as it can be. Sisko himself was famously led astray in the events of 'In The Pale Moonlight,' a fascinating study of what a good, upstanding Starfleet Captain would do, given the chance, but again, it's against his general tendencies, which is what makes it so surprising and shocking.
Bashir isn't a stranger to such acts himself - he kept his true advantages as a genetically modified individual a dirty secret for much of his life. But the hippocratic oath by which he practices has been something clearer and dearer to his moral compass. Sure, his House of Horrors chamber where important figures were lost in his care (usually through no fault of his, it should be added), can flippantly be brought up as a failure (and Odo's lying in that very room in which Vedek Bareil breathed his last, and even mentions the fact!), but how many times has Bashir actively laid aside his medical ethics? He does now, and there's a big question as to whether it was right for him to do so: to capture, then shoot an unarmed man, and subject him to Romulan Mind Probes (or Romulan Memory Scanner, or Romulan Mental Probes as various people call them!), eventually invading that mind with his own consciousness (shame there was no Vulcan he could call on to do the deed as that would have been easier, I'm sure, but is also one advantage to not having a Vulcan on your crew since there wouldn't have been an episode in that case!). We know he's doing it for Odo, and we know he's doing it to a villain of the highest order, but there's surprisingly little of the Trekkian exploration on the rights and wrongs of it all. It's just something that needs to be done, albeit off the record, without orders (though we have an early scene of handy exposition to explain to the audience, via Sisko's lack of knowledge, what's going on, that serves both the purposes of informing casual viewers, and getting the Captain into the episode).
Bashir is adamant that this thing that slithered into the Federation must be destroyed, but if a good man like the Doctor can be pushed to fight the unethical with unethical methods, doesn't that mean 31 has won? Their whole ethos is that the ends of keeping the Federation safe justify any means, and now a Starfleet doctor is using those exact same methods on them. 31 has taught Bashir that if the stakes are high enough, he should do as they do. Would Odo accept Bashir's loss of principles? He who has always been so heavily focused on justice? Then again, Sloan was dealt justice rather than the letter of the law, so he probably would support the Doctor's choice. It's a thorny problem, and not one this episode examines because it's more interested in looking at O'Brien and Bashir as friends and colleagues, their teamwork making victory possible. O'Brien couldn't have done what Bashir came up with, and Bashir would have been trapped without the Chief, and that's the message of the episode. Will we ever see Section 31 routed out? I doubt it, because the writers love using them, and on 'DS9' they were a truly fascinating component, so sparingly used, but with such far-reaching grasp on the major events of the series. It's funny that Sloan should be the man sent to stop them, I wonder what the assignment he had planned for Doctor was going to be? We never got the chance to hear it because he was easily caught. Granted, he couldn't know what Bashir was planning, but you'd think he'd always have a plan for every contingency.
In a way, he did, resorting to suicide when he realised there was going to be no threatening O'Brien and no reasoning with Bashir that would work. He was so dedicated to the cause that he killed himself! Up to that point I felt his character had been stripped of the greatness he first had - that mystery and awesome, all-knowing power that could twist facts and do whatever he wanted. I still wish to some degree that 31 had all turned out to be the imagination or games of this intergalactic playboy conman who, like Michael Eddington of the Maquis, made himself the hero of his story, and sacrificed himself as the final part of the game. I know we saw other operatives at different times, all wearing the signature, stereotypical black outfits (that now in 'DSC' have been made far more ludicrous by having a black badge for easy identification!), but these could all have been hired hands going along with what their boss arranged. I couldn't see that Sloan being trapped by a forcefield, he was too suave and cool to be tricked, always several steps ahead like an evil Jason Bourne. We do learn some (questionable, always questionable), new information on 31: they have no HQ, no room full of files, which exist only in the minds of a select group. Morsels of facts, but good to find out something new about them. Like Eddington, Sloan takes extreme measures to protect what he believes in.
I noticed that rather than the Infirmary where you'd expect Bashir to do his research, it all takes place in some nondescript room, later revealed to be Science Lab 4 (though looking nothing like the kind of labs Jadzia used to work in during the early days of the series), by Sisko asking for a medical team to be sent there. I wonder if the fact that a male voice answers him on the comm, and then when Bashir and O'Brien 'come round' to find a couple of female nurses (one being Nurse Bandee, whom I'm sure has been mentioned before, though not seen), it was a clue to them still being in Sloan's mind (a trick played a few times on Trek, and one I always love - they're still in the Matrix!). Then again, the only nurse we see when they really do come round is also female, although she's different to the dream nurses, so… I suppose the Infirmary was too 'public' a place, what with Odo being in the operating room (something we'd only just seen in the previous episode when Martok was severely wounded), and other staff being about, and it seems somewhat more underhanded to be dealing with Sloan in a dark room somewhere. It was nice to see O'Brien's Quarters again with its beautiful sunset image on the wall, even though they were only in Sloan's mind - it made me pine for the days when we had the DS9 community, with Keiko, and Quark, and others showing up. This time, insultingly, the Ferengi doesn't even appear, though his bar is used a couple of time without his consent (and his liquor stolen!), and though Keiko's mentioned again, she remains unseen.
Perhaps the best moment of the episode is when O'Brien extols the virtues of having a wife, she's got his dinner on, even this late, and he's about to go off and enjoy it, when at the last moment he asks Julian if he'd like to come, too, and it's like a melding of the two lives, family and friendship, beautifully tying up the episode and the bond between these two great characters in Trek history. Bashir's still talking about Ezri (the real, physical book he's reading, 'A Tale of Two Cities,' was lent by her, and she apparently inherited it from Jadzia, which sounds odd since Trill don't have anything to do with a former host's life - likely Worf gave it to her), and he hasn't yet spoken to her properly, though she does appear as the person who watches over Bashir and O'Brien upon finding them in the lab. Interestingly, Worf is used as a mildly threatening character in Sloan's mind when the Doctor can't believe that Sloan's already dead and the burly Klingon stands over his shoulder and grabs his arm! Worf doesn't appear in the flesh, but this is very much the O'Brien/Bashir show. Odo's very important to the story as the main motivation, and he and Kira get an affecting scene where he has accepted his fate: one, possibly two weeks to live, and sends Kira away because he doesn't want her to see another man die, just as she witnessed Bareil's demise. It struck me, currently reading 'Far From The Madding Crowd,' that Odo is Gabriel Oak: the stolid, dependable suitor overshadowed by the better off Boldwood (Shakaar), or exciting Troy (Bareil), only for them to fall by the wayside over time and win over Bathsheba (Kira). Maybe it was the mention of another classic in the episode, and I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but the parallels suddenly became clear.
The good thing about going into Sloan's mind is that we actually get to know him a little - the 'good' part of him holds a sort of wake where we see his parents, possibly siblings standing behind them, his wife, Jessica and two children. Again, we don't really know how true all this is, it could be stalling for time, except that, just as when Bashir was running around in his own mind ('Distant Voices'), and the villain of the piece suddenly appears to drag Jadzia out of the room (it might even have been the same room!), the 'bad' Sloan pops up at the door to shoot his good self before he can pass on the cure. The scene was so reminiscent of that earlier episode (one of my absolute favourites), that I wonder if it was a deliberate tribute? Of course the major saving whenever they do this alternate reality thing (even 'DSC' with its mega-budgets did the same), is to use the series' standing sets to portray it. For one thing, they're recognisable, and take on a sinister aspect when we know that the familiar station they're walking around (and the Defiant's corridors, cleverly allowing us to be in the old ship one last time, in spite of its destruction), is not reality, so anything can happen, and the other main reason is to make us, or the characters, wonder whether they're out of it since it looks the same as true reality, which is why there's no B-story as we couldn't cut to something outside Sloan's mind without losing the tension. That's always been a creepy, but involving way to create tension, far more effective than if they were to spend millions on some elaborate alien world or CGI sets. Yes, it's a trope, and O'Brien even wonders why - rationalised by Sloan saying he wanted them to feel at home (while his evil side wanted them to be unknowingly still stuck in there).
One of the most standalone in the final batch, the episode isn't shy of connecting to the ongoing story arc, which is rapidly coming to a conclusion, referencing such things as the Breen weapon Kira and the underground were able to procure in the previous episode, which is why the Chief is still up and about at that hour of the night, as well as the motivation for all their actions being Odo's recovery from the brink of death. There are also many references to the state of their lives, whether it be Keiko and the family, or Bashir's infatuation with Ezri, and even a summing up of some of the things they have, or have had in common over the years: the darts, the racquetball (it's been a while since we've seen either of them with racket in hand!), Vic's lounge, their shared love of the Alamo), making it a perfectly comforting place to leave them as a part of the series. The same thing would be done with the Ferengi in the next episode, and to a lesser extent for all the characters in the finale. The real question, though, is whether Sloan really died. We'd seen him die the last time he cropped up, and yet here he was again. Always possibilities, and Sadler was one of the standout guest actors on the series (among so many greats), so if the actor is still acting, maybe 'Picard'? I'm going to be suggesting that about every last one of the terrific actors and guest stars from now until 'Picard' is done, and they probably won't happen, but I love the possibilities. Always possibilities.
****
Extreme is the ideal word to use for the pared down nature of this one, standing sets only, two characters for most of the time, and an impression of a slight story being padded out. But that would be to miss the point: this is a last look at the great friendship of two men, and if some scenes aren't really necessary (such as in the Turbolift when they keep dropping, or the slow discussion in the Defiant's corridor of the love between friends being stronger and deeper than that between a man and his wife), they are there to give us this gift of seeing the partnership of O'Brien and Bashir as the sole focus of an episode one final time. It's also the chance for the series to do one last sci-fi story, one more weird reality to explore, with the stakes as high as Odo's life on one hand, O'Brien and Bashir's in another, and the potential to take down the immoral Section 31 to cap it all. The balance couldn't be hanging more! You could say it's a stage play, and while it doesn't have the power and drive of some that stuck a couple of people in a room for the duration to hash things out, as seen in a number of Treks, it's a gentler, quieter story that is perhaps fonder of the two men at its centre, showing why they work so well as a team: Julian with his genetically advanced abilities (he can control his vital functions as a switch to get them out of the mind of their enemy; can work out the complicated diagnostics of the fancy equipment the use; can keep track of exact time without the aid of a timepiece; can get past Quark's lock on the bar, and score a bullseye on the dartboard from distance), and O'Brien with his common sense and grounded nature.
Both need each other's skills as they take on one of their biggest challenges: to enter the compartmentalised mind of a villain of the highest order, a man for whom morals have no absolute, except for the mandate to preserve the Federation. Section 31's goal are laudable, it's just their method that is at fault, their willingness to go against everything the Federation stands for in order that it can keep standing. There's much debate to be had about whether it is better for such an august organisation with such great goals of peace and an intergalactic community to survive at any cost, or whether the change that is constant in a shifting universe means the Federation, like all other empires before it, would eventually fall, and should be allowed to - as Bashir predicted in his wild future imaginings in 'Statistical Probabilities,' even if the Dominion conquered the whole galaxy, at some future date a rebellion would rise up to overthrow it. It's just that the Federation's principles are upheld in secret by a rotten core, a controversial, though fascinating reveal during Season 6 of this series, and one that has run and run through every incarnation created since 'DS9' ended.
It is sad, in a way, that the 'perfect' humanity of Trek that Roddenberry strived for, should be admitted to be supported by the actions of a deviant few that will stop at nothing to preserve it, though all too realistic. It's not that secret services are wrong in themselves: Starfleet Intelligence isn't vilified, but is a useful data-gathering organisation that combats known threats and uncovers unknown ones. Section 31 goes deeper, taking proactive steps to ensure threats are dealt with as early as possible (but they were still found wanting on many occasions when you think of the terrible events throughout Federation history). Hence the infecting of Odo way back in Season 4. At least that's what Bashir and O'Brien had surmised, but we can't know for absolute certainty that that's when it happened. The case is strengthened in this episode, however, by the surprise, and obscure mention of the former Federation President of the time, Jaresh-Inyo, who was in the very two-parter that Odo was supposedly infected - 31 had one of their men in his cabinet according to data Bashir unearths in Sloan's mind! How much of what happened in there was fiction, though, that's the question? A mind as devious and complex as that of the agent, could be full of falsehood and deception so that we don't know what's true or made up. That last scene in the room with all the Padds and papers scattered around the reclining Sloan, flashes rending the air every few moments, was the most dramatic and exciting visual, but it means even more when seen as a trap for Bashir's curiosity.
The Doctor was so intent on taking down 31 that he would have stayed to his doom, greedily sucking up Sloan's secrets, except for O'Brien's straight and steady presence, there to remind him that Sloan wants him to die and will use any bait to keep him there. So Section 31 is not destroyed as Bashir hoped - the main goal was to retrieve the cure for Odo's disease and save his life, taking out 31 was merely a secondary objective, one that would have been an uphill struggle, a tacking into the wind, but if possible, a major moral victory. So 31 is still there to be used in future productions, something I wouldn't be surprised about 'Picard' getting to eventually, in keeping with 'Enterprise,' the Kelvin Timeline films, and 'Discovery.' There's even supposed to be a series coming focused on this errant cabal (set in the 23rd Century), which shows how far things have gone in our world: that Trek would happily create a series based around this evil spectre at the base of the Federation's white tower, rather than concentrate on the evil in the galaxy which our heroes oppose, suggests a move away from the idealistic, utopian, uplifting, optimistic worldview (or universeview), that Trek had portrayed before, shows how low our view has become that so many audiences crave wrongness and characters that are essentially evil - the success of major TV shows featuring such things as sympathetic points of view bears out the point, but it's chilling to think of even Trek being sucked into this black hole of baseness when it at least was a beacon of light.
It's not the fault of 'DS9,' either - they always made it clear Section 31 was a cancer that needed to be cut off, something that was created in a dark time, not something worthy of its own series where it could be all about the cool stuff these agents get up to. You could say it's too early to pre-judge a series that hasn't been seen yet, the only fact being that Emperor Georgiou of 'DSC' will be the main character, but even that one fact suggests the calibre of the series: she was the worst character in a disappointingly negative season of Trek (I haven't even seen Season 2 yet, where she's supposed to feature more). If the 'DS9' writers were tackling such subject matter I'd have hopes that it could be a fascinatingly deep study, but on the evidence I've seen of the current crop, it will likely be fairly empty action-based rubbish with a shiny surface. Not to say that 'DS9' didn't have its share of morally questionable people or acts. You only have to look at Garak as an expert example, but he was a truly compelling character for the good that he could do, which only made his abhorrent acts the more shocking. There is a certain type of glee to be felt when someone like that does something to the enemies of our heroes that we know they wouldn't dirty their hands with, but even that is a reprehensible attitude, as compelling as it can be. Sisko himself was famously led astray in the events of 'In The Pale Moonlight,' a fascinating study of what a good, upstanding Starfleet Captain would do, given the chance, but again, it's against his general tendencies, which is what makes it so surprising and shocking.
Bashir isn't a stranger to such acts himself - he kept his true advantages as a genetically modified individual a dirty secret for much of his life. But the hippocratic oath by which he practices has been something clearer and dearer to his moral compass. Sure, his House of Horrors chamber where important figures were lost in his care (usually through no fault of his, it should be added), can flippantly be brought up as a failure (and Odo's lying in that very room in which Vedek Bareil breathed his last, and even mentions the fact!), but how many times has Bashir actively laid aside his medical ethics? He does now, and there's a big question as to whether it was right for him to do so: to capture, then shoot an unarmed man, and subject him to Romulan Mind Probes (or Romulan Memory Scanner, or Romulan Mental Probes as various people call them!), eventually invading that mind with his own consciousness (shame there was no Vulcan he could call on to do the deed as that would have been easier, I'm sure, but is also one advantage to not having a Vulcan on your crew since there wouldn't have been an episode in that case!). We know he's doing it for Odo, and we know he's doing it to a villain of the highest order, but there's surprisingly little of the Trekkian exploration on the rights and wrongs of it all. It's just something that needs to be done, albeit off the record, without orders (though we have an early scene of handy exposition to explain to the audience, via Sisko's lack of knowledge, what's going on, that serves both the purposes of informing casual viewers, and getting the Captain into the episode).
Bashir is adamant that this thing that slithered into the Federation must be destroyed, but if a good man like the Doctor can be pushed to fight the unethical with unethical methods, doesn't that mean 31 has won? Their whole ethos is that the ends of keeping the Federation safe justify any means, and now a Starfleet doctor is using those exact same methods on them. 31 has taught Bashir that if the stakes are high enough, he should do as they do. Would Odo accept Bashir's loss of principles? He who has always been so heavily focused on justice? Then again, Sloan was dealt justice rather than the letter of the law, so he probably would support the Doctor's choice. It's a thorny problem, and not one this episode examines because it's more interested in looking at O'Brien and Bashir as friends and colleagues, their teamwork making victory possible. O'Brien couldn't have done what Bashir came up with, and Bashir would have been trapped without the Chief, and that's the message of the episode. Will we ever see Section 31 routed out? I doubt it, because the writers love using them, and on 'DS9' they were a truly fascinating component, so sparingly used, but with such far-reaching grasp on the major events of the series. It's funny that Sloan should be the man sent to stop them, I wonder what the assignment he had planned for Doctor was going to be? We never got the chance to hear it because he was easily caught. Granted, he couldn't know what Bashir was planning, but you'd think he'd always have a plan for every contingency.
In a way, he did, resorting to suicide when he realised there was going to be no threatening O'Brien and no reasoning with Bashir that would work. He was so dedicated to the cause that he killed himself! Up to that point I felt his character had been stripped of the greatness he first had - that mystery and awesome, all-knowing power that could twist facts and do whatever he wanted. I still wish to some degree that 31 had all turned out to be the imagination or games of this intergalactic playboy conman who, like Michael Eddington of the Maquis, made himself the hero of his story, and sacrificed himself as the final part of the game. I know we saw other operatives at different times, all wearing the signature, stereotypical black outfits (that now in 'DSC' have been made far more ludicrous by having a black badge for easy identification!), but these could all have been hired hands going along with what their boss arranged. I couldn't see that Sloan being trapped by a forcefield, he was too suave and cool to be tricked, always several steps ahead like an evil Jason Bourne. We do learn some (questionable, always questionable), new information on 31: they have no HQ, no room full of files, which exist only in the minds of a select group. Morsels of facts, but good to find out something new about them. Like Eddington, Sloan takes extreme measures to protect what he believes in.
I noticed that rather than the Infirmary where you'd expect Bashir to do his research, it all takes place in some nondescript room, later revealed to be Science Lab 4 (though looking nothing like the kind of labs Jadzia used to work in during the early days of the series), by Sisko asking for a medical team to be sent there. I wonder if the fact that a male voice answers him on the comm, and then when Bashir and O'Brien 'come round' to find a couple of female nurses (one being Nurse Bandee, whom I'm sure has been mentioned before, though not seen), it was a clue to them still being in Sloan's mind (a trick played a few times on Trek, and one I always love - they're still in the Matrix!). Then again, the only nurse we see when they really do come round is also female, although she's different to the dream nurses, so… I suppose the Infirmary was too 'public' a place, what with Odo being in the operating room (something we'd only just seen in the previous episode when Martok was severely wounded), and other staff being about, and it seems somewhat more underhanded to be dealing with Sloan in a dark room somewhere. It was nice to see O'Brien's Quarters again with its beautiful sunset image on the wall, even though they were only in Sloan's mind - it made me pine for the days when we had the DS9 community, with Keiko, and Quark, and others showing up. This time, insultingly, the Ferengi doesn't even appear, though his bar is used a couple of time without his consent (and his liquor stolen!), and though Keiko's mentioned again, she remains unseen.
Perhaps the best moment of the episode is when O'Brien extols the virtues of having a wife, she's got his dinner on, even this late, and he's about to go off and enjoy it, when at the last moment he asks Julian if he'd like to come, too, and it's like a melding of the two lives, family and friendship, beautifully tying up the episode and the bond between these two great characters in Trek history. Bashir's still talking about Ezri (the real, physical book he's reading, 'A Tale of Two Cities,' was lent by her, and she apparently inherited it from Jadzia, which sounds odd since Trill don't have anything to do with a former host's life - likely Worf gave it to her), and he hasn't yet spoken to her properly, though she does appear as the person who watches over Bashir and O'Brien upon finding them in the lab. Interestingly, Worf is used as a mildly threatening character in Sloan's mind when the Doctor can't believe that Sloan's already dead and the burly Klingon stands over his shoulder and grabs his arm! Worf doesn't appear in the flesh, but this is very much the O'Brien/Bashir show. Odo's very important to the story as the main motivation, and he and Kira get an affecting scene where he has accepted his fate: one, possibly two weeks to live, and sends Kira away because he doesn't want her to see another man die, just as she witnessed Bareil's demise. It struck me, currently reading 'Far From The Madding Crowd,' that Odo is Gabriel Oak: the stolid, dependable suitor overshadowed by the better off Boldwood (Shakaar), or exciting Troy (Bareil), only for them to fall by the wayside over time and win over Bathsheba (Kira). Maybe it was the mention of another classic in the episode, and I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but the parallels suddenly became clear.
The good thing about going into Sloan's mind is that we actually get to know him a little - the 'good' part of him holds a sort of wake where we see his parents, possibly siblings standing behind them, his wife, Jessica and two children. Again, we don't really know how true all this is, it could be stalling for time, except that, just as when Bashir was running around in his own mind ('Distant Voices'), and the villain of the piece suddenly appears to drag Jadzia out of the room (it might even have been the same room!), the 'bad' Sloan pops up at the door to shoot his good self before he can pass on the cure. The scene was so reminiscent of that earlier episode (one of my absolute favourites), that I wonder if it was a deliberate tribute? Of course the major saving whenever they do this alternate reality thing (even 'DSC' with its mega-budgets did the same), is to use the series' standing sets to portray it. For one thing, they're recognisable, and take on a sinister aspect when we know that the familiar station they're walking around (and the Defiant's corridors, cleverly allowing us to be in the old ship one last time, in spite of its destruction), is not reality, so anything can happen, and the other main reason is to make us, or the characters, wonder whether they're out of it since it looks the same as true reality, which is why there's no B-story as we couldn't cut to something outside Sloan's mind without losing the tension. That's always been a creepy, but involving way to create tension, far more effective than if they were to spend millions on some elaborate alien world or CGI sets. Yes, it's a trope, and O'Brien even wonders why - rationalised by Sloan saying he wanted them to feel at home (while his evil side wanted them to be unknowingly still stuck in there).
One of the most standalone in the final batch, the episode isn't shy of connecting to the ongoing story arc, which is rapidly coming to a conclusion, referencing such things as the Breen weapon Kira and the underground were able to procure in the previous episode, which is why the Chief is still up and about at that hour of the night, as well as the motivation for all their actions being Odo's recovery from the brink of death. There are also many references to the state of their lives, whether it be Keiko and the family, or Bashir's infatuation with Ezri, and even a summing up of some of the things they have, or have had in common over the years: the darts, the racquetball (it's been a while since we've seen either of them with racket in hand!), Vic's lounge, their shared love of the Alamo), making it a perfectly comforting place to leave them as a part of the series. The same thing would be done with the Ferengi in the next episode, and to a lesser extent for all the characters in the finale. The real question, though, is whether Sloan really died. We'd seen him die the last time he cropped up, and yet here he was again. Always possibilities, and Sadler was one of the standout guest actors on the series (among so many greats), so if the actor is still acting, maybe 'Picard'? I'm going to be suggesting that about every last one of the terrific actors and guest stars from now until 'Picard' is done, and they probably won't happen, but I love the possibilities. Always possibilities.
****
Tuesday, 1 October 2019
Cool
DVD, Smallville S1 (Cool)
The most teen-soapy the series has been so far, and while it's still good, it doesn't pack the punch the first four episodes had. It's really focused hard on Clark's interest in Lana, skirting the bounds of what's acceptable when he invites her to a concert at a time Whitney lets her down - it's funny to think that the whole thing came about because of that, but by the end of the episode she says she's Whitney's girl because he's always there when she needs him, she makes him feel safe. Thus the weakness of Clark comes to the fore for the first of many, many times: no, not his aversion to Kryptonite, but his self-imposed responsibility to step in and use his gifts any time he sees they're needed. He could hardly leave his good friend Chloe to the mercy of an ice vampire, could he? But so many times on the series this pattern would be followed: people would depend on Clark for a frivolous or personal thing, only to be disappointed when he had to fly off, seemingly on a whim, because most of the time they couldn't know about his heroic tendencies for fear of his secret getting out. The secret was really the biggest millstone round his neck, and even as Superman he had something of it as he had to keep his identity secret by fabricating the Clark Kent side. At this stage of his life he's still trying to figure out who he is, let alone put on a persona - he's got charm and an easygoing, pleasant nature, but he hasn't learnt to dissemble effectively.
Lex Luthor on the other hand has had a lifetime's training in such arts from his diabolical Father, so you have to wonder what his true intentions are whenever you see him do something gracious for others. Because that's what he's doing here: he finds out Lana's free (and how much due diligence did he do there - did he find out about the match Whitney and friends were watching, because it was certainly convenient of him to produce a couple of tickets to a concert in Metropolis when Clark could use them?). He is like the big brother he admits he'd like to be to Clark, but he's also leading him into, if not bad ways, morally dubious ones. How would Clark like it if he had a girlfriend who went off with some other bloke to a fancy event in a limousine without telling him? Lana could have played it cool and basically asked Whitney's permission, but then she isn't a slave, she reasonably rationalises it as he's being with his friends and she's being with hers. Of course that would be easier to swallow if there had been at least one other friend along for the ride… It's all a bit uncertain and treading the boundaries, like Sean Kelvin walking out into frozen Crater Lake, and we know what happened there. Ordinarily Clark wouldn't seize the bull by the horns in this way, but Lex's encouragement leads him to it.
Even though Lex' manipulations are benevolent he's still not old and experienced enough to understand people entirely. He thinks that Jonathan will agree to him becoming a partner in the farm in order to secure his family's future, and has a passively hostile tone on occasion, as if this is the only real option the Kent Farm has. This wasn't the way to win over Mr. Kent who's seen others burned too often by the Luthor name to want anything to do with it, even when it seems like the most profitable avenue to explore - in the same way Clark joked about joining a football team and making loads of money from sponsors, Jonathan giving up any part of his family business to a Luthor, even one as straight-talking and grateful as Lex, isn't good sense to him. It makes you wonder how true Lex' motivations are. Is he only trying to repay a debt, or is he seriously trying to overturn Smallville's status quo and bring it back to the glory days with his influence and power, a sign to his Father that he can succeed? It's a bit of both, I think, he needs to prove himself, as much as for his own self-belief, needing to see a betterment of the Luthor name that is reviled by so many, but also he is thankful for a second chance at life now that his wild youth is behind him. It's the attempt at redemption that makes Lex such a compelling character. Only, this time the B-story doesn't have the same emotive impact as others have achieved.
There's plenty to like, with Martha a small voice in Lex' corner, wanting to give him a chance, or seeing Lana and Whitney, not to mention the Kent parents at the Luthor Mansion, but the main story was a little too derivative of 'Hothead' - it's essentially the inverse. Before it was fire, now it's ice. Sean Kelvin (clue's in the name), drowns under the ice where fragments of meteor rock are embedded, and this turns him into a blue freak that needs to suck the warmth out of people to replenish his own body heat. There are lots of analogies and themes to be drawn from this: he's an addict who messes up the lives of everyone he comes into contact with; he's a predator preying on women; the price of immorality… I'm not sure any of them are properly explored, it's more about the shock value, a key part of the series, to be sure, but he's really already a monster before his accident, the new motivation and power only heightens his own, personal flaws. And just like the coach that died in a fiery blaze of his own making, Kelvin is entombed in ice. If you think about it, it doesn't make much sense, since he survived the night in the freezing lake, only to punch his way out, so why would being encased in another freeze him in place? Maybe it was a result of his drawing Clark's warmth, it backfired and the extremes of warm to cold actually killed him? Not that we know he's dead, his fate isn't mentioned, but he looked pretty well done in the last shot.
The CGI is a little more noticeable in this one, not to any great degree, but you can definitely see it - although this wasn't the first episode I ever saw, this is the earliest one that stuck in my memory as it is a simple, visual story with some good looks: the flames that turn to ice worked well, and although you have the usual problem with painting a human face blue (just like the Andorians in its contemporary series 'Enterprise'), as around the eyes and inside the mouth can still be seen as pink areas, suggesting he was actually painted rather than it being colour correction on the image, it's still a 'cool' look. The episode is really the first time Chloe's been on centre stage, and it's a regrettable experience for her, the object of a maniac's fervour, but there are also some of the usual nice references to Superman, such as her joking with Clark about him coming from an ice planet, or saying blue is a good colour on him, or even his parents talking about how he saved them the cost of four part-time hands. Even Lana is the recipient of something like this when he admits that he uses astronomy to escape his life sometimes, wondering what it would be like on a different planet and proving once again that he feels the same things Lana feels. But again, it's not much more satisfactory than the non-date she and Clark go on, there isn't the usual core to the story, it's a little more frivolous, even with the subplot of the Kent Farm's money troubles.
At the same time it still has that level of colour, contrast and community, where the locations feel as if they are part of this town, and a sense of place is important to giving it reality. To sum up, it remains a good episode. I can't fault it particularly for not having quite the same impressive drive and depth, but I can criticise it for seeing the start of the circular 'trust, then be disappointed in Clark' cycle that Lana particularly, and others, would go through on a recurring basis across the seasons. He was never really in danger this time, because although Sean caught him unawares that one time, Clark isn't affected by any meteor rock emanations, it's just the cold, and he's up and about to chuck his enemy around as usual before too long. Lex' meddling adds character, and some of the CGI holds up okay (the pool freezing sequence, for example), but there had to be an episode that was a tiny notch down on the series' high standard, as insignificant a drop as it is.
***
The most teen-soapy the series has been so far, and while it's still good, it doesn't pack the punch the first four episodes had. It's really focused hard on Clark's interest in Lana, skirting the bounds of what's acceptable when he invites her to a concert at a time Whitney lets her down - it's funny to think that the whole thing came about because of that, but by the end of the episode she says she's Whitney's girl because he's always there when she needs him, she makes him feel safe. Thus the weakness of Clark comes to the fore for the first of many, many times: no, not his aversion to Kryptonite, but his self-imposed responsibility to step in and use his gifts any time he sees they're needed. He could hardly leave his good friend Chloe to the mercy of an ice vampire, could he? But so many times on the series this pattern would be followed: people would depend on Clark for a frivolous or personal thing, only to be disappointed when he had to fly off, seemingly on a whim, because most of the time they couldn't know about his heroic tendencies for fear of his secret getting out. The secret was really the biggest millstone round his neck, and even as Superman he had something of it as he had to keep his identity secret by fabricating the Clark Kent side. At this stage of his life he's still trying to figure out who he is, let alone put on a persona - he's got charm and an easygoing, pleasant nature, but he hasn't learnt to dissemble effectively.
Lex Luthor on the other hand has had a lifetime's training in such arts from his diabolical Father, so you have to wonder what his true intentions are whenever you see him do something gracious for others. Because that's what he's doing here: he finds out Lana's free (and how much due diligence did he do there - did he find out about the match Whitney and friends were watching, because it was certainly convenient of him to produce a couple of tickets to a concert in Metropolis when Clark could use them?). He is like the big brother he admits he'd like to be to Clark, but he's also leading him into, if not bad ways, morally dubious ones. How would Clark like it if he had a girlfriend who went off with some other bloke to a fancy event in a limousine without telling him? Lana could have played it cool and basically asked Whitney's permission, but then she isn't a slave, she reasonably rationalises it as he's being with his friends and she's being with hers. Of course that would be easier to swallow if there had been at least one other friend along for the ride… It's all a bit uncertain and treading the boundaries, like Sean Kelvin walking out into frozen Crater Lake, and we know what happened there. Ordinarily Clark wouldn't seize the bull by the horns in this way, but Lex's encouragement leads him to it.
Even though Lex' manipulations are benevolent he's still not old and experienced enough to understand people entirely. He thinks that Jonathan will agree to him becoming a partner in the farm in order to secure his family's future, and has a passively hostile tone on occasion, as if this is the only real option the Kent Farm has. This wasn't the way to win over Mr. Kent who's seen others burned too often by the Luthor name to want anything to do with it, even when it seems like the most profitable avenue to explore - in the same way Clark joked about joining a football team and making loads of money from sponsors, Jonathan giving up any part of his family business to a Luthor, even one as straight-talking and grateful as Lex, isn't good sense to him. It makes you wonder how true Lex' motivations are. Is he only trying to repay a debt, or is he seriously trying to overturn Smallville's status quo and bring it back to the glory days with his influence and power, a sign to his Father that he can succeed? It's a bit of both, I think, he needs to prove himself, as much as for his own self-belief, needing to see a betterment of the Luthor name that is reviled by so many, but also he is thankful for a second chance at life now that his wild youth is behind him. It's the attempt at redemption that makes Lex such a compelling character. Only, this time the B-story doesn't have the same emotive impact as others have achieved.
There's plenty to like, with Martha a small voice in Lex' corner, wanting to give him a chance, or seeing Lana and Whitney, not to mention the Kent parents at the Luthor Mansion, but the main story was a little too derivative of 'Hothead' - it's essentially the inverse. Before it was fire, now it's ice. Sean Kelvin (clue's in the name), drowns under the ice where fragments of meteor rock are embedded, and this turns him into a blue freak that needs to suck the warmth out of people to replenish his own body heat. There are lots of analogies and themes to be drawn from this: he's an addict who messes up the lives of everyone he comes into contact with; he's a predator preying on women; the price of immorality… I'm not sure any of them are properly explored, it's more about the shock value, a key part of the series, to be sure, but he's really already a monster before his accident, the new motivation and power only heightens his own, personal flaws. And just like the coach that died in a fiery blaze of his own making, Kelvin is entombed in ice. If you think about it, it doesn't make much sense, since he survived the night in the freezing lake, only to punch his way out, so why would being encased in another freeze him in place? Maybe it was a result of his drawing Clark's warmth, it backfired and the extremes of warm to cold actually killed him? Not that we know he's dead, his fate isn't mentioned, but he looked pretty well done in the last shot.
The CGI is a little more noticeable in this one, not to any great degree, but you can definitely see it - although this wasn't the first episode I ever saw, this is the earliest one that stuck in my memory as it is a simple, visual story with some good looks: the flames that turn to ice worked well, and although you have the usual problem with painting a human face blue (just like the Andorians in its contemporary series 'Enterprise'), as around the eyes and inside the mouth can still be seen as pink areas, suggesting he was actually painted rather than it being colour correction on the image, it's still a 'cool' look. The episode is really the first time Chloe's been on centre stage, and it's a regrettable experience for her, the object of a maniac's fervour, but there are also some of the usual nice references to Superman, such as her joking with Clark about him coming from an ice planet, or saying blue is a good colour on him, or even his parents talking about how he saved them the cost of four part-time hands. Even Lana is the recipient of something like this when he admits that he uses astronomy to escape his life sometimes, wondering what it would be like on a different planet and proving once again that he feels the same things Lana feels. But again, it's not much more satisfactory than the non-date she and Clark go on, there isn't the usual core to the story, it's a little more frivolous, even with the subplot of the Kent Farm's money troubles.
At the same time it still has that level of colour, contrast and community, where the locations feel as if they are part of this town, and a sense of place is important to giving it reality. To sum up, it remains a good episode. I can't fault it particularly for not having quite the same impressive drive and depth, but I can criticise it for seeing the start of the circular 'trust, then be disappointed in Clark' cycle that Lana particularly, and others, would go through on a recurring basis across the seasons. He was never really in danger this time, because although Sean caught him unawares that one time, Clark isn't affected by any meteor rock emanations, it's just the cold, and he's up and about to chuck his enemy around as usual before too long. Lex' meddling adds character, and some of the CGI holds up okay (the pool freezing sequence, for example), but there had to be an episode that was a tiny notch down on the series' high standard, as insignificant a drop as it is.
***
Daikatana
N64, Daikatana (2000) game
The main reason I chose to play this was because the 20th Anniversary of when I got my N64 was approaching and I wanted to get back into playing games on that machine. The other reason was that this is one of a handful of games that had a high enough resolution that I could play it on the Dell screen I use for gaming, rather than having to hook it up through a VGA adaptor which does not do justice to the graphics of the machine. It was time to play a first person shooter, and I'd bought this some time ago as a game I'd never played before on the system. I didn't expect much from it, and I didn't get much from it, being a resolutely average game in every respect. Well, perhaps it was below average in some respects! The graphics for one, emphasised the primitive nature of the coding - it looks like a release from the opening days of the N64's launch, and 'Turok: Dinosaur Hunter' was actually better looking, faster, smoother, larger and much more dynamic in every way, even with its incessant fogging. So it's with astonishment you realise this came out in the year 2000. That's the same year as 'Perfect Dark,' 'The World Is Not Enough,' 'Banjo-Tooie'… I mean it's staggering how poor it looks in comparison with other games of the time, but then that's probably due to it being a multi-platform release, a port from a PC game, but even so you'd think they could have done a better job than this!
It's not that the textures are terrible, they're actually okay, and after the gloomy brown and grey Marsh level that opens proceedings to underwhelming effect, you get some variety in the locales and architecture: Ancient Greece, Medieval villages (complete with obligatory monk), future America. They all have some nice environments at times, but they're so empty! There are hardly any enemies to fight, with liberal splashes of HP recovery and extra ammo to pick up, so that it was very rare to actually die from foes. The landscape was barren, few things could be shot up for the fun of it, so there's little sense of immersion and interactivity. It's basically trundling down corridors occasionally shooting someone. I don't think there were ever more than three enemies in any given area, and when you think how much 'Goldeneye 007' had changed the first person gaming landscape, and even the 'Turok' series had brought massive guns and tension, it's sad that this, a game I seem to remember was in development for many years, turned out to be so backward. I suppose there was some inevitability since this was John Romero's follow-up to the famous 'Doom,' and one popular game doesn't mean the next will be equally successful. It's also been the case with many famous 'name' programmers that their cherished project gets cancelled or is revealed to be a lot less impressive and dramatic than expected after a long development struggle.
There's no excuse for the kind of faults in this game, however: things like the cutscenes playing out at a snail's pace with huge, blocky type beneath the images for the dialogue. It's not that the game should have had speech (although both 'TWINE' and 'PD' certainly did), but to have such ugly presentation, and awful pacing like that… you could fall asleep waiting for the next line of dialogue to come up, and even the layout was badly designed as a sentence would be cut off in the middle…
…
…to be completed on the next 'page,' rather than giving you the option to cycle through it. Confusingly, there were times in the game when you did need to press the 'A' button to advance the text, but if you pressed 'A' during a standard cutscene you'd skip it, and if you'd just played through a level you weren't going to want to go back through it just to see that bit of text again! To add to the shabby design ethic, there were stupid flaws in the controls, too. For example, if you wanted to select a different weapon you'd pull up a weapon wheel which you'd cycle through to choose, but you always kept every new weapon from each era, even if you no longer had ammo for it, so this wheel ends up being clogged with useless hardware, and if you're under attack when needing to change weapons, you can stand there cycling through and losing health like nobody's business! A similarly poor choice was that when plunging into water you automatically switch to the spiked gauntlet, or whatever it was called, but when you emerge from the deep, you don't automatically flip back to the weapon you had previously, and have to go through the weapons wheel again - no fun if you have enemies waiting for you on dry land!
I was very surprised how short the game is: there are four missions, split into four chapters or episodes, then you confront the villain and it's as easy as crouching down before him and hacking at his knees to beat him! Sure, there's a twist in the tale, but the story was so laboriously told that any atmosphere or shock value was lost in the dull pacing. They try to create an impression that you're part of a trio of adventurers who only occasionally split up, but you almost never see them in-game, it's always in cutscenes - if they'd managed to make it so you had a couple of CPU teammates that actually ran along with you, it would have been something different, but it's just you on your own. The other thing is, although they aren't too frequent, you have annoying platform bits, much like 'Turok' where it's all about timing and jumping, or running around to get to a bridge you've activated for a short time, before it retracts again, the height of frustration. Even the music is pretty repetitive and bleak, so there doesn't seem to be anything to recommend it. In spite of all these criticisms, I did find some enjoyment in it. Whether it's because I haven't played an FPS for a while, especially one I'd never encountered before, I don't know, but I liked the 'Metroid'-like feeling of isolation, the time travelling storyline wasn't bad, and it was fun to try out the variety of weapons, even if none of them really constituted a favourite.
The dialogue was bad, but in a fun, cheesy sort of way, and while the puzzles were basic, occasionally there would be a sign of intelligence, such as the chimes in the chapel. But the controls were not well explained - I didn't have the manual so had to make do with finding things out from the game itself and it took many fruitless tries on the first level to get beyond a half-raised door because I didn't know I could crouch. I only found out when studying the control config option. I was foxed because there was no option to crouch, until I noticed the rolling text at the bottom of the screen which gave the useful info of the need to press the Action button and the Jump button at the same time! Thanks for that! The same with swimming: I didn't realise that by repeatedly tapping 'R' I would rise to the surface, so got stuck for a short while in a watery channel in which I couldn't work out how to get out. These things are partly my fault, because a manual is there to provide such info, and no one really wants a tutorial level to go through, but hints and suggestions along the way would have been useful. At the same time, this was a game that was way too easy, with few deaths, and one that I thought would run for a while. I almost wondered if you'd have to go back through time changing things, but no, nothing as inventive as that.
It wasn't bad as a reintroduction into the world of the N64 as I hadn't tackled a new game on the system since winter 2017's 'Starshot: Space Circus Fever' which was a truly bad game. This wasn't bad, it was merely mediocre, and it still held some delight to see those blocky N64 environments that I could reminisce about as being like so many other great games I played. And that's the thing, it's a game I wanted to end so I could get onto playing something I knew was good. And that's never a strong recommendation.
**
The main reason I chose to play this was because the 20th Anniversary of when I got my N64 was approaching and I wanted to get back into playing games on that machine. The other reason was that this is one of a handful of games that had a high enough resolution that I could play it on the Dell screen I use for gaming, rather than having to hook it up through a VGA adaptor which does not do justice to the graphics of the machine. It was time to play a first person shooter, and I'd bought this some time ago as a game I'd never played before on the system. I didn't expect much from it, and I didn't get much from it, being a resolutely average game in every respect. Well, perhaps it was below average in some respects! The graphics for one, emphasised the primitive nature of the coding - it looks like a release from the opening days of the N64's launch, and 'Turok: Dinosaur Hunter' was actually better looking, faster, smoother, larger and much more dynamic in every way, even with its incessant fogging. So it's with astonishment you realise this came out in the year 2000. That's the same year as 'Perfect Dark,' 'The World Is Not Enough,' 'Banjo-Tooie'… I mean it's staggering how poor it looks in comparison with other games of the time, but then that's probably due to it being a multi-platform release, a port from a PC game, but even so you'd think they could have done a better job than this!
It's not that the textures are terrible, they're actually okay, and after the gloomy brown and grey Marsh level that opens proceedings to underwhelming effect, you get some variety in the locales and architecture: Ancient Greece, Medieval villages (complete with obligatory monk), future America. They all have some nice environments at times, but they're so empty! There are hardly any enemies to fight, with liberal splashes of HP recovery and extra ammo to pick up, so that it was very rare to actually die from foes. The landscape was barren, few things could be shot up for the fun of it, so there's little sense of immersion and interactivity. It's basically trundling down corridors occasionally shooting someone. I don't think there were ever more than three enemies in any given area, and when you think how much 'Goldeneye 007' had changed the first person gaming landscape, and even the 'Turok' series had brought massive guns and tension, it's sad that this, a game I seem to remember was in development for many years, turned out to be so backward. I suppose there was some inevitability since this was John Romero's follow-up to the famous 'Doom,' and one popular game doesn't mean the next will be equally successful. It's also been the case with many famous 'name' programmers that their cherished project gets cancelled or is revealed to be a lot less impressive and dramatic than expected after a long development struggle.
There's no excuse for the kind of faults in this game, however: things like the cutscenes playing out at a snail's pace with huge, blocky type beneath the images for the dialogue. It's not that the game should have had speech (although both 'TWINE' and 'PD' certainly did), but to have such ugly presentation, and awful pacing like that… you could fall asleep waiting for the next line of dialogue to come up, and even the layout was badly designed as a sentence would be cut off in the middle…
…
…to be completed on the next 'page,' rather than giving you the option to cycle through it. Confusingly, there were times in the game when you did need to press the 'A' button to advance the text, but if you pressed 'A' during a standard cutscene you'd skip it, and if you'd just played through a level you weren't going to want to go back through it just to see that bit of text again! To add to the shabby design ethic, there were stupid flaws in the controls, too. For example, if you wanted to select a different weapon you'd pull up a weapon wheel which you'd cycle through to choose, but you always kept every new weapon from each era, even if you no longer had ammo for it, so this wheel ends up being clogged with useless hardware, and if you're under attack when needing to change weapons, you can stand there cycling through and losing health like nobody's business! A similarly poor choice was that when plunging into water you automatically switch to the spiked gauntlet, or whatever it was called, but when you emerge from the deep, you don't automatically flip back to the weapon you had previously, and have to go through the weapons wheel again - no fun if you have enemies waiting for you on dry land!
I was very surprised how short the game is: there are four missions, split into four chapters or episodes, then you confront the villain and it's as easy as crouching down before him and hacking at his knees to beat him! Sure, there's a twist in the tale, but the story was so laboriously told that any atmosphere or shock value was lost in the dull pacing. They try to create an impression that you're part of a trio of adventurers who only occasionally split up, but you almost never see them in-game, it's always in cutscenes - if they'd managed to make it so you had a couple of CPU teammates that actually ran along with you, it would have been something different, but it's just you on your own. The other thing is, although they aren't too frequent, you have annoying platform bits, much like 'Turok' where it's all about timing and jumping, or running around to get to a bridge you've activated for a short time, before it retracts again, the height of frustration. Even the music is pretty repetitive and bleak, so there doesn't seem to be anything to recommend it. In spite of all these criticisms, I did find some enjoyment in it. Whether it's because I haven't played an FPS for a while, especially one I'd never encountered before, I don't know, but I liked the 'Metroid'-like feeling of isolation, the time travelling storyline wasn't bad, and it was fun to try out the variety of weapons, even if none of them really constituted a favourite.
The dialogue was bad, but in a fun, cheesy sort of way, and while the puzzles were basic, occasionally there would be a sign of intelligence, such as the chimes in the chapel. But the controls were not well explained - I didn't have the manual so had to make do with finding things out from the game itself and it took many fruitless tries on the first level to get beyond a half-raised door because I didn't know I could crouch. I only found out when studying the control config option. I was foxed because there was no option to crouch, until I noticed the rolling text at the bottom of the screen which gave the useful info of the need to press the Action button and the Jump button at the same time! Thanks for that! The same with swimming: I didn't realise that by repeatedly tapping 'R' I would rise to the surface, so got stuck for a short while in a watery channel in which I couldn't work out how to get out. These things are partly my fault, because a manual is there to provide such info, and no one really wants a tutorial level to go through, but hints and suggestions along the way would have been useful. At the same time, this was a game that was way too easy, with few deaths, and one that I thought would run for a while. I almost wondered if you'd have to go back through time changing things, but no, nothing as inventive as that.
It wasn't bad as a reintroduction into the world of the N64 as I hadn't tackled a new game on the system since winter 2017's 'Starshot: Space Circus Fever' which was a truly bad game. This wasn't bad, it was merely mediocre, and it still held some delight to see those blocky N64 environments that I could reminisce about as being like so many other great games I played. And that's the thing, it's a game I wanted to end so I could get onto playing something I knew was good. And that's never a strong recommendation.
**
Tacking Into The Wind (2)
DVD, DS9 S7 (Tacking Into The Wind) (2)
One thing I hoped for in this episode was that Nog would show up so I could write about Aron Eisenberg's contribution to the series, because I watched this episode on the day I found out about the actor's death at the age of fifty. Sadly, Nog wasn't in this episode, but I'd like to dedicate this review to the memory of one of the great actors of the greatest TV show ever made. Eisenberg wasn't one of the main cast, didn't show up in the opening titles, but his portrayal of the most typical Ferengi, that changed into the most atypical, without losing his essential Ferengi nature, was one of the best examples of how much development even relatively minor characters received on such a series. Nog wasn't a minor (even in age terms, Eisenberg was in his twenties when he portrayed the character, who was a child!), part of the series, he had a terrific arc across the seven seasons, appearing in many episodes from the pilot to the finale, and even having the accolade of starring in at least one episode ('It's Only A Paper Moon'), as well as co-starring with Jake in several adventures (the best of which was 'In The Cards'). It could even be said that Nog became more of a regular character than his best friend Jake. Partly, that's due to the focus being on Starfleet officers during the war, but also because Eisenberg imbued the young Ferengi with an eternally driven, disciplined and optimistic attitude in the best traditions of the Federation. It is very sad to think that his final episode will always be in 1999 in a time when the curtains are rolling back on the 24th Century stage, because I feel sure that had Eisenberg been in good health he would have been practically a certainty to appear as Captain Nog in the Picard series at some point. But his legacy is forever secure in the minds of Trek aficionados for the wonderful things he did as, and with, his famous character.
On a happier note, this episode, the fourth from last of the entire series, begins the upward swing of the final few, building gradually, almost imperceptibly into another great one. I don't know whether it was plots such as the Winn/Dukat narrative, or the Worf/Ezri moping that prevented the first half of the final arc to shine, or whether it was the impeding nature of the multiple stories that needed to be woven together, out of the usual norm for the series, but this episode breaks free, setting up the last lap as characters find their places, shuffle around, and prepare to land. To begin with I wasn't sure why I had retained the impression that this was a great story, because it is slow in building, but in the greatest tradition of drama, it goes up a level at a time, right to the climax. It's no surprise that Ron Moore's handprint is on the tiller, fitting as it is for the final Klingon-centric episode of the series: Gowron's reckless tactics reach a new low when Martok's latest mission into Dominion-held space fails with much loss of ships and life, the General himself left in the balance. If there was something that could improve the episode it is that we don't see Dr. Bashir working his wonders on Martok. We see the wounded General in the Infirmary (I don't know if it was my imagination, but the thin material covering him did suggest a bulky exoskeleton on his chest), specifically in the little-seen operating room away from the main area where so many have been scarred for life or not even survived Bashir's house of horrors. But the doc's busy with his unceasing research into a cure for the Changeling's virus, so maybe it was good for Martok after all, on reflection!
It's very good how the simple solution to meeting with someone from Section 31, the authors of this deadly disease, is so organically arrived at. It's just Bashir and O'Brien, secretly thinking this through and racking their brains over how they can capture an agent from the shady organisation in order to wrest a cure from him - we hear they've been chasing shadows from here to Vulcan (I don't know if that means they actually travelled to Vulcan, or whether they meant in 'paper trail' terms, or perhaps calling up contacts and associates), until they hit upon the idea of lying. After all, O'Brien is a proven liar: he lied to Captain Kirk himself, so a little fib for the greater good doesn't seem too far beneath him. The trap is baited and with bated breath we await the coming of Section 31. We don't need to await the coming of Keiko, since she's apparently on DS9 at this time. We know this because she sends Bashir some crab rolls O'Brien claims she 'whipped up' - notice he didn't say replicated, so does that mean she likes to cook for real, like the Siskos? Quite beside the point, the real issue being why is O'Brien's family not safely ensconced on Earth? Okay, so the Breen showed that even the human homeworld isn't as safe as it used to be, but wouldn't somewhere like Bajor be a reasonably safe place at this time of war? We don't know if O'Brien's children are also on the station, but it's a good bet that they'd be with their Mother.
The search for a cure is merely the C-story for the episode, as the top two slots are shared by both Worf's growing realisation that Gowron must be challenged before he throws the last hope for the Alpha Quadrant allies into disarray, and Kira's tightrope walk in Damar's resistance group. Both Worf and Kira have difficult choices to make, and both paths end with the death of someone. It is fortunate that in both cases right wins out and those setting back the cause of freedom and victory over the enemy are dealt with. One of the enduringly fascinating things about the conclusion to this part of the Trek canon, is in the gift it left for future writers: pretty much all the major races of the Trek universe are challenged and changed by the events of the Dominion War. War is a catalyst for change, and the writers did an excellent job of showing that in the way the various races reacted to both the war itself and its outcome. One of the tragedies of modern Trek is that it chose to go into an almost endless cycle of prequels and (basically), reboots, rather than gorging themselves on the multiple delights left on the political and social table that was the Alpha Quadrant in the aftermath of the war. 'Voyager' had a couple of seasons in which to play with such things, but the nature of their location, the other side of the Galaxy, meant they were extremely limited in that regard (one reason I feel they should have come home at the end of Season 6, so as to explore the issues and ramifications of this new era for both those characters and the major races), preferring to concentrate mainly on the playing pieces they were already moving about their own board.
That's fair enough. But although I don't regret the creation of 'Enterprise,' I still would have rather seen a continuation of the 24th Century, hanging ripe with fat, juicy fruits, waiting to be plucked. It was good for the novel writers as they had material to last them a good couple of decades, up until the point we're arriving at now, in which 'Star Trek: Picard' is set. Will that series take up the narratives of the changed Ferengi values, the Cardassians laid low, the Klingons ravaged, and all with new leadership? Or will it be back to 'normal' because enough time has passed that the spectre of a great war is only a distant memory for most, and history to the young? The fortunes of new Trek hang in the balance, but are irrelevant as regards this episode, so let us return to the 'now' and look to the future from that perspective: both Cardassian and Klingon Empires can see great change from the top down, and nowhere has it been as blatantly stated as in this episode where we see the true colours of Damar, struck home in the most painful way, not just by the cruel murder of his wife and son on the orders of the Female Changeling, but in his immediate vicinity when Kira chooses that moment to spike him with the reminder that the murder of innocents was exactly the kind of brutality Damar's people committed to Bajorans, in response to Damar expressing dismay at such horrors. It's a very strong moment, but that's not enough, they go and take it up a whole other level when we see the almost fierce light in Garak's eyes and voice as he asserts that Kira's words will have far more weight at this time, when she shows regret for having said them.
It was a moment that reminded me of the story around the filming of Kirk's attitude towards the Klingons in 'Star Trek VI,' where William Shatner wanted to play it as Kirk having a similar outburst ("Let them die!"), only to immediately show regret at such a sentiment coming from his mouth, only Director Nicholas Meyer edited it so we don't see his regret clearly. Here, we do see the conscience of Kira rise to the surface, but it's used as a platform upon which we finally understand the magnitude of who Damar has become and what he'll mean for Cardassia: he's had the full dose of the kind of behaviour his peopled inflicted on others, and Garak sees a future where this will influence him in a positive way. And this is coming from a man that hated the former Damar for killing his only love. Not only has he forgiven and forgotten, as it was practical to do, and Garak is a practical man, but he's turned around to support his enemy one hundred percent, seeing in him the Cardassia their people need. Damar, after killing Rusot, his close friend and ally, demonstrates just how much his sentiments mean. That he's willing to kill someone so close to him because he was intractable in the old ways: his Cardassia is gone, and it's not coming back, are Damar's heartfelt words, and it's as if he's destroyed the last part of the evil Cardassia. Sometimes it takes people the loss of everything before they see the truth.
The episode was meant by Moore as a commentary on the state of the Klingon Empire, but he fits in a neat parallel on the state and the potential future of the Cardassian one, too, and that is the mark of a great writer. The Klingons get their due, particularly Worf, whose commitment to true honour is finally rewarded after years of abuse by his race. As quickly as he was taken back into the fold of Gowron upon the Chancellor's appearance on DS9, thanks to his place within the House of Martok, he's as swiftly discarded for being a traitor when he stands up to the leader. He's always been the best of Klingons, even to the extent that he fulfils the Klingon ideals (such as killing the murderer of his mate on 'TNG'), and the bonds of loyalty winning out over the uniform (such as going back for the dying Jadzia in Season 6), so that he's always had a personal code that means he'll be at odds with someone. The conflict within him over allowing himself to be Klingon, while also recognising his own humanity in the ideals of Starfleet and duty to them, has always been one of the most fascinating elements of Trek, at least on a par with the similar internal struggles of Spock or Seven of Nine, and probably surpassing all. The most torn characters are the best to watch, and even here Worf is unsure what to do beyond exhorting the obvious successor, Martok, into action against Gowron. But Martok still thinks of himself as lowly (best in evidence in Kor's final appearance in 'Once More Unto The Breach'), a man best suited to following the orders of those above and doing whatever is asked of him for the Empire.
It is here that that famous old saying of Kahless comes into play: great men do not seek power, they have it thrust upon them. (Hang on, are you sure that was Kahless? In the original Klingon? Ah, right, I see). Worf doesn't want power any more than Martok does, but he's in the best position in which to see who gets it. After consulting Ezri (and we see just how far they've come when he reveals she's still considered to be a member of the House of Martok, something he'd have been dead against at the start of the season), for a useful outsider perspective who, as she says, sees the Empire differently to both Curzon and Jadzia, who were deeply enmeshed within it, he does stand up to Gowron and, in beating him, passes the mantle to Martok. I'm not sure Ezri's words weren't a little pushed to the extreme to make an impact on Worf, because she says she thinks the Empire is dying due to it holding onto ancient traditions, long outmoded, and should die because Klingons, though they profess allegiance to the traditions, don't exhibit the honour that goes with it, allowing the corrupt to rule - whoever carries out the traditions can do what they will apart from them. She makes a terrific point asking who was the last Chancellor Worf truly respected, and has he ever known one he did? This goes back to 'TNG' and earlier than we know, and is typical of Moore's love of adding to Klingon lore. I could have done with a mention of K'mpec, or whoever was before him by name, but it's nice to think back to the living past of Trek that we can actually go and see any time we want!
Worf was right, Martok is the ideal man to lead the Empire because he is humble, but also has great intelligence and experience, and it would have been glorious to see him return post-'DS9,' even if it had been a cameo in the last 24th Century film, 'Nemesis.' But in keeping with the trend of Trek made in the 21st Century, they largely ignored major things (except for a little mention of the war amid other challenges). The actor who played him, JG Hertzler, wrote a couple of novels on Martok's reign, but although I've long planned to read both, I still haven't got my hands on them (though I do have both Armin Shimerman's Quark novel set during the series, and Andrew Robinson's Garak book which does go into the rebuilding of Cardassia after the war), and the books aren't part of canon, anyway, as we all know (in spite of several moments in production history where they've been claimed as being so: when Jeri Taylor wrote her two 'Voyager' books, when the Kelvin Timeline comics were supposedly considered canon, and more recently, when the 'Discovery' books were supposed to be, until they were superceded by the series, which is what always, and rightfully, happens, even if sometimes the ideas of the authors can be better than that of the TV writers, such as making stupid decisions fit better!).
For the sake of history, Gowron's death at the hands of Worf, was an important moment. He had been in Trek since the fourth season of 'TNG' and had always been a different kind of Klingon. He wasn't the biggest and most bloodthirsty, you could even say he was a bit scrawny, but he had the strength of brain power that made up for any bodily deficiency. And as he proved here, he was a not inconsiderable fighter, quick to throw off his robes and take up the challenge of his subordinate. I wonder if the ageing, partially mutilated Martok, only just recovered from his severe wounding, would have beaten the Chancellor as Worf did? Or would Gowron have proved himself worthy in the eyes of his people and at the same time rid himself of the jealous burden that Martok was for him? It probably worked out for the best with Worf feeling it necessary to do the challenging himself, and even then Gowron played dirty - I think he deliberately planned to break Worf's sword into pieces, and I wouldn't put it past a man of such cunning (and needing it, considering life as a Klingon leader is a bit like the Captain of a pirate ship, never knowing when challenge to authority may come), that he had a specific bat'leth hanging up that he knew was a good sword, while all the others in the room were of inferior make, just for such an eventuality. But Worf's creative ingenuity saw him off. As soon as you see that great glass screen, you know someone's going through it, and in its own way it's as impressive as Falcon smashing through the window at the start of 'Our Man Bashir'!
Why were their bat'leths on the wall of this briefing room, anyway, was it just for decoration, or in case of just such an eventuality as arose? It looked like a room that had been given over to the Klingons permanently for their use during the war, which makes sense, though I can't imagine Sisko would sanction Worf killing the Chancellor of Starfleet's keenest allies. If it got out it could turn into an ugly civil war, and I'm surprised someone from the Duras family wasn't around to cause trouble (we did see Duras' son, Toral, back in Season 4, not to mention the Duras sisters right at the beginning of the series - another sad loss recently was Barbara March who played Lursa), but I suspect the whole thing was kept under wraps as an internal matter. Worf does the age-old symbol of removing his combadge as a sign that he speaks on behalf of himself, not representing Starfleet, but I'm sure that's not how they'd see it. Mind you, he's already been reprimanded enough, and Sisko and Admiral Ross would see the need for Gowron's removal, even if they couldn't sanction Worf's involvement. Maybe, since Worf passed the mantle of chancellorship to Martok it will go down, however wrongly, as Martok's kill. I don't think the issue came up between Worf and anyone in the final three episodes, amid all the other things going on, but if this had been an ordinary DS9 day before the war, the whole episode would have been about this, and the ramifications of his actions. There simply wasn't time at this point, even with so many episodes devoted to finishing out the series, and it's probably reasonable that it should be so.
Sisko himself gave Gowron a tongue-lashing, not holding back on his anger, though he probably knew that he was okay doing that since Klingons admire people speaking boldly, as Gowron's toothy grin told. I love the almost sheepish way the Chancellor mutters about Martok being 'expected to survive,' as if that makes his orders justified! It was all about discrediting Martok, except that the General continually did his best to carry out whatever orders his Commander-in-Chief gave him, because he's a good soldier. It was almost like Martok was Uriah and Gowron was King David in the Bible, sending out this man in order that he dies in his service. It wasn't a woman Gowron was chasing, but the holding on of power he felt was slipping away, ironic then that this chasing of power is what led to him losing it, when in fact he was strong in his position since Martok supported him. But the cunning mind doesn't think like that and can sometimes turn itself in circles when it gets a bee under its bonnet. Although Gowron was a great character, and had been used sparingly, it was the right time for him to be killed off to make room for a new Empire: just as it was time for the old Cardassia to be washed away, and time for Kai Winn to step down from her position (or be removed through death). We see that power or prestige is always hard to give up, which is why Damar is such a triumph for Cardassia and its future.
Through the bullying of the Dominion regime over Cardassia it's humbled him from his great pride, something that Weyoun doesn't really understand. Because Weyoun doesn't really have a planet or a people, he's happy under the protective wing of the Founders, though even he is not immune to the genocidal intent of the increasingly thwarted Female Changeling, who threatens that if there were cloning facilities he'd be disposed with (she talks to a new representative of the Breen, Thot Pran - what happened to Thot Gor?). It's the first time the Vorta has nothing to say, but a shocked look in his eyes that his 'gods' could do such a thing to him, a loyal servant. But because he is no more than a clone, he has no solid base to stand on: where Damar had his history and people that came into focus as motivation enough to die for them, Weyoun is only a servant, nothing beyond that because the Founders didn't need any more from him. I always go back to the lack of aesthetic appreciation he admitted to, because the Founders didn't include it in his genetic makeup, therefore in his logic, it isn't necessary. But it also shows there's nothing more to him, which is a tragedy in itself. As things fall apart for the Female Changeling she's becoming increasingly dangerous to all around her, as will play out to its logical, but terrible conclusion (I imagine if this had been made now, she'd have become a whirling dervish of spiteful destruction, physically taking out Jem'Hadar, Cardassians and Vorta alike in her bitter refusal to accept defeat - I'm glad it wasn't made now).
As much as the internal politics of Kira's time in position of a leader in the Cardassian resistance are involving on a microcosmic level, I'm so glad they got to go out of the caves and off on an actual mission. It's one that brilliantly builds the dramatic tension, and from multiple sources. The keenest felt for Kira is Rusot's hatred of her that boils over into a physical confrontation in which she gains the upper hand, impressively, but which also sets in motion a heavy vendetta that can only be paid off by her death at his hands. You sense that Garak is taking the time to watch over her like a guardian angel as he steps out of the shadows following the altercation, as much to reassure (he's holding a Cardassian Phaser), as to give her advice: though Rusot threatened to kill her after the war is over (much like the Jem'Hadar that threatened the same to Sisko in 'To The Death'), he'll strike before then, so she needs to kill him first. Kira isn't a stranger to killing, but this is just what she doesn't need at a time when she's got enough to worry about in training these obstinate Cardies in the ways of the terrorist. And then there's Odo. This was so beautifully scripted, so true to both their characters, and even admits Garak in to show what a friend he can be to them - he finds Odo resting in the bunk room, his natural state of decay all too evident. You'd think Odo would have found a dark corner to lie in, since there are no doors in a cave and no way to knock, so if Kira had entered she'd have seen his 'secret' suffering (even though she's already seen everything, from when-it-rains-coloured-lights-Odo, to sloshing-in-bucket-Odo). Maybe he didn't hear Garak's approach because he can no longer form ears properly?
Garak agrees not to tell Kira because Odo thinks she's got enough on her plate, and the Cardassian has good reason to do what's best for the Constable since the last time he saw him in this desiccated state it was he who was responsible for it, but when a plan requires Odo's participation for its success, he pulls her aside and breaks the confidence given to him, for Odo's sake. Shapeshifting advances the rate of the disease, and we hear that Odo's been shifting regularly in various missions (which sound so intriguing you wish we could have seen them!), accelerating his demise. Kira already knows, she's not stupid, but she's willing to play dumb to Odo's torment because if her not knowing keeps him going she'll do whatever it takes not to know. Work is what keeps Odo going, that has always been the case, he can't lie around feeling sorry for himself, even if that would be best for his health. The obstinate care they have for each other is perhaps never better portrayed than it is here, at death's door for both of them, Odo from the wasting, Kira from an irate Cardassian. It adds so much to the story and in fact is the best part of the episode. The slow start only allows it to build and build, the pressure cooker of the various events playing out so satisfyingly and intricately. Regardless of the threat to both Odo and Kira, the mission has to proceed, just as we'd expect from a Starfleet crew.
It's sometimes easy to forget that, though in this case Kira is working for Starfleet, she and all the others are all non-Starfleet, a ragtag bunch of aliens that is about as far from the 'TOS' or 'TNG' formula of a Trek episode as you can imagine, but no less great for it. We know these people, we know their races, and so when we see things play out as we do, it all feels right. There are shocks along the way, twists and turns, but unlike modern Trek they aren't the focus, it's the people that matter most and cause us to care. Even with so much established tech, canon and lore to play with, they aren't above inventing a few new things. I don't recall if we'd seen a Cardassian shuttle before, but that's what they use for travel on their way to another Cardassian structure in space that is as different from DS9 as could be, yet still visibly recognisable for being in the same design lineage. It was massive, too! The moment where they come aboard to be greeted by a joint Jem'Hadar and Cardassian guard detail, such a simple exchange, but still so good - you'd think Damar at least would be instantly recognised, and Kira must be a well-known figure considering DS9 has been at the centre of Dominion interaction with the Federation for years. I guess the Jem'Hadar doesn't read reports, and we soon learn that the Cardassian (Vornar, played by J. Paul Boehmer, previously the Nazi Kapitan in 'The Killing Game' on 'Voyager,' later to be a Borg on the same series, and even later still, a Vulcan and another Nazi on 'Enterprise,' so it's great to see him again, even in such a minor role), does indeed recognise the banished leader and secretly supports him!
It's a moment of morale boosting, just when something needed to go right for them. It's cool to see Odo disguised as something again, this time he's the cuffs restraining the Bajoran 'prisoner,' though does that mean Kira can carry the weight of Odo around on her wrists? How much does he weigh? Can he alter his weight as well as shape? All questions that have come up before, I'm sure, but they don't detract, just add tasty speculation. The way she dropped them unceremoniously to the deck plate might suggest they weren't the most comfortable! On a docked Jem'Hadar ship a Breen energy weapon is being installed, overseen by a Vorta named Luaran (played by Kitty Swink, the wife of Armin Shimerman, which makes it even more disappointing that Quark doesn't show his face in this one as it would be fun trivia that they'd acted together, although she had previously played Minister Rozahn in Season 2's 'Sanctuary,' and made a great Vorta here - interesting to note that the current 'Star Trek Encyclopedia' wrongly lists her as playing Vayna, and Betty McGuire as Rozahn in that episode!). But hang on, the Female Changeling shows up and isn't she sure to recognise Kira, Damar and Garak? Until I remembered this was Odo, again in disguise (how did he know exactly how far her disease had spread?), all part of the plan to take over the ship, and a very effective plan it was. Salome Jens does very well pretending to be Odo pretending to be her, such as when he looks slightly uncomfortable as he passes the weapon to Garak, who promptly kills everyone on the Bridge.
Odo doesn't use weapons, doesn't like weapons, so again it's very true to his character that he would share a look like that, and then question whether killing them was necessary. It's all very well put together, and then the tension rises as we hear the weapon hasn't been fully installed yet, so they'll have to 'sit tight' as Kira puts, which enrages Rusot - he was looking for his opportunity, but Garak has been looking for him looking for his opportunity and puts a gun on him. Odo has collapsed, his facade finally broken and Damar is the one to break up Rusot's threat by killing him. I like that they don't even show his death, they concentrate on Damar and the cool way he dispatches this misguided friend, stepping over him and acknowledging the old Cardassia is gone. And with that, Kira is free to cradle Odo for a powerful ending where she admits she knew the extent of his covering up the illness - the music reminded me of 'Into The West' from the end of 'The Return of The King,' just a little portion of it, and I wish that had been on the CD set rather than the good, but martial, Worf and Gowron duel (though I haven't bought the second volume, so it could be on there).
There's much to admire about the structure of this episode, the words that were written, but also the production work that went into carrying it all off. It's another truly great episode full of the kind of Trek detail we expect and cherish (Gowron's 'I would kill you where you stand,' to Worf is very much like the Starfleet Klingon's same statement to Picard in 'First Contact,' also written by Moore; Worf doing the death cry over Gowron's body; Worf using the broken pieces of his bat'leth to win the fight), but also internal logic that makes sense (the unlikelihood of Bashir being able to find a cure for a disease that all the resources of the Dominion have failed in; Section 31 being tracked down by him and O'Brien when it's remained in hiding for three hundred years - take that 'DSC'!), and the setting up of a grand scheme of rejuvenation and change for the major powers in the coming years, a changing of the guard to a better, softer galaxy that, as I said earlier, would have been (and still is), a fascinating sandbox for writers of the 'DS9' calibre to explore. Somehow I don't get the same feeling about the current crop of writers and I can't imagine the forthcoming 'Lower Decks' animated series, set as it is right after 'Nemesis' a few short years after the end of 'DS9,' is likely to tackle the political and social ramifications promised by all this. But we'll always have 'DS9' to show the whippersnappers how it could be, how it was, and how it should, be done!
****
One thing I hoped for in this episode was that Nog would show up so I could write about Aron Eisenberg's contribution to the series, because I watched this episode on the day I found out about the actor's death at the age of fifty. Sadly, Nog wasn't in this episode, but I'd like to dedicate this review to the memory of one of the great actors of the greatest TV show ever made. Eisenberg wasn't one of the main cast, didn't show up in the opening titles, but his portrayal of the most typical Ferengi, that changed into the most atypical, without losing his essential Ferengi nature, was one of the best examples of how much development even relatively minor characters received on such a series. Nog wasn't a minor (even in age terms, Eisenberg was in his twenties when he portrayed the character, who was a child!), part of the series, he had a terrific arc across the seven seasons, appearing in many episodes from the pilot to the finale, and even having the accolade of starring in at least one episode ('It's Only A Paper Moon'), as well as co-starring with Jake in several adventures (the best of which was 'In The Cards'). It could even be said that Nog became more of a regular character than his best friend Jake. Partly, that's due to the focus being on Starfleet officers during the war, but also because Eisenberg imbued the young Ferengi with an eternally driven, disciplined and optimistic attitude in the best traditions of the Federation. It is very sad to think that his final episode will always be in 1999 in a time when the curtains are rolling back on the 24th Century stage, because I feel sure that had Eisenberg been in good health he would have been practically a certainty to appear as Captain Nog in the Picard series at some point. But his legacy is forever secure in the minds of Trek aficionados for the wonderful things he did as, and with, his famous character.
On a happier note, this episode, the fourth from last of the entire series, begins the upward swing of the final few, building gradually, almost imperceptibly into another great one. I don't know whether it was plots such as the Winn/Dukat narrative, or the Worf/Ezri moping that prevented the first half of the final arc to shine, or whether it was the impeding nature of the multiple stories that needed to be woven together, out of the usual norm for the series, but this episode breaks free, setting up the last lap as characters find their places, shuffle around, and prepare to land. To begin with I wasn't sure why I had retained the impression that this was a great story, because it is slow in building, but in the greatest tradition of drama, it goes up a level at a time, right to the climax. It's no surprise that Ron Moore's handprint is on the tiller, fitting as it is for the final Klingon-centric episode of the series: Gowron's reckless tactics reach a new low when Martok's latest mission into Dominion-held space fails with much loss of ships and life, the General himself left in the balance. If there was something that could improve the episode it is that we don't see Dr. Bashir working his wonders on Martok. We see the wounded General in the Infirmary (I don't know if it was my imagination, but the thin material covering him did suggest a bulky exoskeleton on his chest), specifically in the little-seen operating room away from the main area where so many have been scarred for life or not even survived Bashir's house of horrors. But the doc's busy with his unceasing research into a cure for the Changeling's virus, so maybe it was good for Martok after all, on reflection!
It's very good how the simple solution to meeting with someone from Section 31, the authors of this deadly disease, is so organically arrived at. It's just Bashir and O'Brien, secretly thinking this through and racking their brains over how they can capture an agent from the shady organisation in order to wrest a cure from him - we hear they've been chasing shadows from here to Vulcan (I don't know if that means they actually travelled to Vulcan, or whether they meant in 'paper trail' terms, or perhaps calling up contacts and associates), until they hit upon the idea of lying. After all, O'Brien is a proven liar: he lied to Captain Kirk himself, so a little fib for the greater good doesn't seem too far beneath him. The trap is baited and with bated breath we await the coming of Section 31. We don't need to await the coming of Keiko, since she's apparently on DS9 at this time. We know this because she sends Bashir some crab rolls O'Brien claims she 'whipped up' - notice he didn't say replicated, so does that mean she likes to cook for real, like the Siskos? Quite beside the point, the real issue being why is O'Brien's family not safely ensconced on Earth? Okay, so the Breen showed that even the human homeworld isn't as safe as it used to be, but wouldn't somewhere like Bajor be a reasonably safe place at this time of war? We don't know if O'Brien's children are also on the station, but it's a good bet that they'd be with their Mother.
The search for a cure is merely the C-story for the episode, as the top two slots are shared by both Worf's growing realisation that Gowron must be challenged before he throws the last hope for the Alpha Quadrant allies into disarray, and Kira's tightrope walk in Damar's resistance group. Both Worf and Kira have difficult choices to make, and both paths end with the death of someone. It is fortunate that in both cases right wins out and those setting back the cause of freedom and victory over the enemy are dealt with. One of the enduringly fascinating things about the conclusion to this part of the Trek canon, is in the gift it left for future writers: pretty much all the major races of the Trek universe are challenged and changed by the events of the Dominion War. War is a catalyst for change, and the writers did an excellent job of showing that in the way the various races reacted to both the war itself and its outcome. One of the tragedies of modern Trek is that it chose to go into an almost endless cycle of prequels and (basically), reboots, rather than gorging themselves on the multiple delights left on the political and social table that was the Alpha Quadrant in the aftermath of the war. 'Voyager' had a couple of seasons in which to play with such things, but the nature of their location, the other side of the Galaxy, meant they were extremely limited in that regard (one reason I feel they should have come home at the end of Season 6, so as to explore the issues and ramifications of this new era for both those characters and the major races), preferring to concentrate mainly on the playing pieces they were already moving about their own board.
That's fair enough. But although I don't regret the creation of 'Enterprise,' I still would have rather seen a continuation of the 24th Century, hanging ripe with fat, juicy fruits, waiting to be plucked. It was good for the novel writers as they had material to last them a good couple of decades, up until the point we're arriving at now, in which 'Star Trek: Picard' is set. Will that series take up the narratives of the changed Ferengi values, the Cardassians laid low, the Klingons ravaged, and all with new leadership? Or will it be back to 'normal' because enough time has passed that the spectre of a great war is only a distant memory for most, and history to the young? The fortunes of new Trek hang in the balance, but are irrelevant as regards this episode, so let us return to the 'now' and look to the future from that perspective: both Cardassian and Klingon Empires can see great change from the top down, and nowhere has it been as blatantly stated as in this episode where we see the true colours of Damar, struck home in the most painful way, not just by the cruel murder of his wife and son on the orders of the Female Changeling, but in his immediate vicinity when Kira chooses that moment to spike him with the reminder that the murder of innocents was exactly the kind of brutality Damar's people committed to Bajorans, in response to Damar expressing dismay at such horrors. It's a very strong moment, but that's not enough, they go and take it up a whole other level when we see the almost fierce light in Garak's eyes and voice as he asserts that Kira's words will have far more weight at this time, when she shows regret for having said them.
It was a moment that reminded me of the story around the filming of Kirk's attitude towards the Klingons in 'Star Trek VI,' where William Shatner wanted to play it as Kirk having a similar outburst ("Let them die!"), only to immediately show regret at such a sentiment coming from his mouth, only Director Nicholas Meyer edited it so we don't see his regret clearly. Here, we do see the conscience of Kira rise to the surface, but it's used as a platform upon which we finally understand the magnitude of who Damar has become and what he'll mean for Cardassia: he's had the full dose of the kind of behaviour his peopled inflicted on others, and Garak sees a future where this will influence him in a positive way. And this is coming from a man that hated the former Damar for killing his only love. Not only has he forgiven and forgotten, as it was practical to do, and Garak is a practical man, but he's turned around to support his enemy one hundred percent, seeing in him the Cardassia their people need. Damar, after killing Rusot, his close friend and ally, demonstrates just how much his sentiments mean. That he's willing to kill someone so close to him because he was intractable in the old ways: his Cardassia is gone, and it's not coming back, are Damar's heartfelt words, and it's as if he's destroyed the last part of the evil Cardassia. Sometimes it takes people the loss of everything before they see the truth.
The episode was meant by Moore as a commentary on the state of the Klingon Empire, but he fits in a neat parallel on the state and the potential future of the Cardassian one, too, and that is the mark of a great writer. The Klingons get their due, particularly Worf, whose commitment to true honour is finally rewarded after years of abuse by his race. As quickly as he was taken back into the fold of Gowron upon the Chancellor's appearance on DS9, thanks to his place within the House of Martok, he's as swiftly discarded for being a traitor when he stands up to the leader. He's always been the best of Klingons, even to the extent that he fulfils the Klingon ideals (such as killing the murderer of his mate on 'TNG'), and the bonds of loyalty winning out over the uniform (such as going back for the dying Jadzia in Season 6), so that he's always had a personal code that means he'll be at odds with someone. The conflict within him over allowing himself to be Klingon, while also recognising his own humanity in the ideals of Starfleet and duty to them, has always been one of the most fascinating elements of Trek, at least on a par with the similar internal struggles of Spock or Seven of Nine, and probably surpassing all. The most torn characters are the best to watch, and even here Worf is unsure what to do beyond exhorting the obvious successor, Martok, into action against Gowron. But Martok still thinks of himself as lowly (best in evidence in Kor's final appearance in 'Once More Unto The Breach'), a man best suited to following the orders of those above and doing whatever is asked of him for the Empire.
It is here that that famous old saying of Kahless comes into play: great men do not seek power, they have it thrust upon them. (Hang on, are you sure that was Kahless? In the original Klingon? Ah, right, I see). Worf doesn't want power any more than Martok does, but he's in the best position in which to see who gets it. After consulting Ezri (and we see just how far they've come when he reveals she's still considered to be a member of the House of Martok, something he'd have been dead against at the start of the season), for a useful outsider perspective who, as she says, sees the Empire differently to both Curzon and Jadzia, who were deeply enmeshed within it, he does stand up to Gowron and, in beating him, passes the mantle to Martok. I'm not sure Ezri's words weren't a little pushed to the extreme to make an impact on Worf, because she says she thinks the Empire is dying due to it holding onto ancient traditions, long outmoded, and should die because Klingons, though they profess allegiance to the traditions, don't exhibit the honour that goes with it, allowing the corrupt to rule - whoever carries out the traditions can do what they will apart from them. She makes a terrific point asking who was the last Chancellor Worf truly respected, and has he ever known one he did? This goes back to 'TNG' and earlier than we know, and is typical of Moore's love of adding to Klingon lore. I could have done with a mention of K'mpec, or whoever was before him by name, but it's nice to think back to the living past of Trek that we can actually go and see any time we want!
Worf was right, Martok is the ideal man to lead the Empire because he is humble, but also has great intelligence and experience, and it would have been glorious to see him return post-'DS9,' even if it had been a cameo in the last 24th Century film, 'Nemesis.' But in keeping with the trend of Trek made in the 21st Century, they largely ignored major things (except for a little mention of the war amid other challenges). The actor who played him, JG Hertzler, wrote a couple of novels on Martok's reign, but although I've long planned to read both, I still haven't got my hands on them (though I do have both Armin Shimerman's Quark novel set during the series, and Andrew Robinson's Garak book which does go into the rebuilding of Cardassia after the war), and the books aren't part of canon, anyway, as we all know (in spite of several moments in production history where they've been claimed as being so: when Jeri Taylor wrote her two 'Voyager' books, when the Kelvin Timeline comics were supposedly considered canon, and more recently, when the 'Discovery' books were supposed to be, until they were superceded by the series, which is what always, and rightfully, happens, even if sometimes the ideas of the authors can be better than that of the TV writers, such as making stupid decisions fit better!).
For the sake of history, Gowron's death at the hands of Worf, was an important moment. He had been in Trek since the fourth season of 'TNG' and had always been a different kind of Klingon. He wasn't the biggest and most bloodthirsty, you could even say he was a bit scrawny, but he had the strength of brain power that made up for any bodily deficiency. And as he proved here, he was a not inconsiderable fighter, quick to throw off his robes and take up the challenge of his subordinate. I wonder if the ageing, partially mutilated Martok, only just recovered from his severe wounding, would have beaten the Chancellor as Worf did? Or would Gowron have proved himself worthy in the eyes of his people and at the same time rid himself of the jealous burden that Martok was for him? It probably worked out for the best with Worf feeling it necessary to do the challenging himself, and even then Gowron played dirty - I think he deliberately planned to break Worf's sword into pieces, and I wouldn't put it past a man of such cunning (and needing it, considering life as a Klingon leader is a bit like the Captain of a pirate ship, never knowing when challenge to authority may come), that he had a specific bat'leth hanging up that he knew was a good sword, while all the others in the room were of inferior make, just for such an eventuality. But Worf's creative ingenuity saw him off. As soon as you see that great glass screen, you know someone's going through it, and in its own way it's as impressive as Falcon smashing through the window at the start of 'Our Man Bashir'!
Why were their bat'leths on the wall of this briefing room, anyway, was it just for decoration, or in case of just such an eventuality as arose? It looked like a room that had been given over to the Klingons permanently for their use during the war, which makes sense, though I can't imagine Sisko would sanction Worf killing the Chancellor of Starfleet's keenest allies. If it got out it could turn into an ugly civil war, and I'm surprised someone from the Duras family wasn't around to cause trouble (we did see Duras' son, Toral, back in Season 4, not to mention the Duras sisters right at the beginning of the series - another sad loss recently was Barbara March who played Lursa), but I suspect the whole thing was kept under wraps as an internal matter. Worf does the age-old symbol of removing his combadge as a sign that he speaks on behalf of himself, not representing Starfleet, but I'm sure that's not how they'd see it. Mind you, he's already been reprimanded enough, and Sisko and Admiral Ross would see the need for Gowron's removal, even if they couldn't sanction Worf's involvement. Maybe, since Worf passed the mantle of chancellorship to Martok it will go down, however wrongly, as Martok's kill. I don't think the issue came up between Worf and anyone in the final three episodes, amid all the other things going on, but if this had been an ordinary DS9 day before the war, the whole episode would have been about this, and the ramifications of his actions. There simply wasn't time at this point, even with so many episodes devoted to finishing out the series, and it's probably reasonable that it should be so.
Sisko himself gave Gowron a tongue-lashing, not holding back on his anger, though he probably knew that he was okay doing that since Klingons admire people speaking boldly, as Gowron's toothy grin told. I love the almost sheepish way the Chancellor mutters about Martok being 'expected to survive,' as if that makes his orders justified! It was all about discrediting Martok, except that the General continually did his best to carry out whatever orders his Commander-in-Chief gave him, because he's a good soldier. It was almost like Martok was Uriah and Gowron was King David in the Bible, sending out this man in order that he dies in his service. It wasn't a woman Gowron was chasing, but the holding on of power he felt was slipping away, ironic then that this chasing of power is what led to him losing it, when in fact he was strong in his position since Martok supported him. But the cunning mind doesn't think like that and can sometimes turn itself in circles when it gets a bee under its bonnet. Although Gowron was a great character, and had been used sparingly, it was the right time for him to be killed off to make room for a new Empire: just as it was time for the old Cardassia to be washed away, and time for Kai Winn to step down from her position (or be removed through death). We see that power or prestige is always hard to give up, which is why Damar is such a triumph for Cardassia and its future.
Through the bullying of the Dominion regime over Cardassia it's humbled him from his great pride, something that Weyoun doesn't really understand. Because Weyoun doesn't really have a planet or a people, he's happy under the protective wing of the Founders, though even he is not immune to the genocidal intent of the increasingly thwarted Female Changeling, who threatens that if there were cloning facilities he'd be disposed with (she talks to a new representative of the Breen, Thot Pran - what happened to Thot Gor?). It's the first time the Vorta has nothing to say, but a shocked look in his eyes that his 'gods' could do such a thing to him, a loyal servant. But because he is no more than a clone, he has no solid base to stand on: where Damar had his history and people that came into focus as motivation enough to die for them, Weyoun is only a servant, nothing beyond that because the Founders didn't need any more from him. I always go back to the lack of aesthetic appreciation he admitted to, because the Founders didn't include it in his genetic makeup, therefore in his logic, it isn't necessary. But it also shows there's nothing more to him, which is a tragedy in itself. As things fall apart for the Female Changeling she's becoming increasingly dangerous to all around her, as will play out to its logical, but terrible conclusion (I imagine if this had been made now, she'd have become a whirling dervish of spiteful destruction, physically taking out Jem'Hadar, Cardassians and Vorta alike in her bitter refusal to accept defeat - I'm glad it wasn't made now).
As much as the internal politics of Kira's time in position of a leader in the Cardassian resistance are involving on a microcosmic level, I'm so glad they got to go out of the caves and off on an actual mission. It's one that brilliantly builds the dramatic tension, and from multiple sources. The keenest felt for Kira is Rusot's hatred of her that boils over into a physical confrontation in which she gains the upper hand, impressively, but which also sets in motion a heavy vendetta that can only be paid off by her death at his hands. You sense that Garak is taking the time to watch over her like a guardian angel as he steps out of the shadows following the altercation, as much to reassure (he's holding a Cardassian Phaser), as to give her advice: though Rusot threatened to kill her after the war is over (much like the Jem'Hadar that threatened the same to Sisko in 'To The Death'), he'll strike before then, so she needs to kill him first. Kira isn't a stranger to killing, but this is just what she doesn't need at a time when she's got enough to worry about in training these obstinate Cardies in the ways of the terrorist. And then there's Odo. This was so beautifully scripted, so true to both their characters, and even admits Garak in to show what a friend he can be to them - he finds Odo resting in the bunk room, his natural state of decay all too evident. You'd think Odo would have found a dark corner to lie in, since there are no doors in a cave and no way to knock, so if Kira had entered she'd have seen his 'secret' suffering (even though she's already seen everything, from when-it-rains-coloured-lights-Odo, to sloshing-in-bucket-Odo). Maybe he didn't hear Garak's approach because he can no longer form ears properly?
Garak agrees not to tell Kira because Odo thinks she's got enough on her plate, and the Cardassian has good reason to do what's best for the Constable since the last time he saw him in this desiccated state it was he who was responsible for it, but when a plan requires Odo's participation for its success, he pulls her aside and breaks the confidence given to him, for Odo's sake. Shapeshifting advances the rate of the disease, and we hear that Odo's been shifting regularly in various missions (which sound so intriguing you wish we could have seen them!), accelerating his demise. Kira already knows, she's not stupid, but she's willing to play dumb to Odo's torment because if her not knowing keeps him going she'll do whatever it takes not to know. Work is what keeps Odo going, that has always been the case, he can't lie around feeling sorry for himself, even if that would be best for his health. The obstinate care they have for each other is perhaps never better portrayed than it is here, at death's door for both of them, Odo from the wasting, Kira from an irate Cardassian. It adds so much to the story and in fact is the best part of the episode. The slow start only allows it to build and build, the pressure cooker of the various events playing out so satisfyingly and intricately. Regardless of the threat to both Odo and Kira, the mission has to proceed, just as we'd expect from a Starfleet crew.
It's sometimes easy to forget that, though in this case Kira is working for Starfleet, she and all the others are all non-Starfleet, a ragtag bunch of aliens that is about as far from the 'TOS' or 'TNG' formula of a Trek episode as you can imagine, but no less great for it. We know these people, we know their races, and so when we see things play out as we do, it all feels right. There are shocks along the way, twists and turns, but unlike modern Trek they aren't the focus, it's the people that matter most and cause us to care. Even with so much established tech, canon and lore to play with, they aren't above inventing a few new things. I don't recall if we'd seen a Cardassian shuttle before, but that's what they use for travel on their way to another Cardassian structure in space that is as different from DS9 as could be, yet still visibly recognisable for being in the same design lineage. It was massive, too! The moment where they come aboard to be greeted by a joint Jem'Hadar and Cardassian guard detail, such a simple exchange, but still so good - you'd think Damar at least would be instantly recognised, and Kira must be a well-known figure considering DS9 has been at the centre of Dominion interaction with the Federation for years. I guess the Jem'Hadar doesn't read reports, and we soon learn that the Cardassian (Vornar, played by J. Paul Boehmer, previously the Nazi Kapitan in 'The Killing Game' on 'Voyager,' later to be a Borg on the same series, and even later still, a Vulcan and another Nazi on 'Enterprise,' so it's great to see him again, even in such a minor role), does indeed recognise the banished leader and secretly supports him!
It's a moment of morale boosting, just when something needed to go right for them. It's cool to see Odo disguised as something again, this time he's the cuffs restraining the Bajoran 'prisoner,' though does that mean Kira can carry the weight of Odo around on her wrists? How much does he weigh? Can he alter his weight as well as shape? All questions that have come up before, I'm sure, but they don't detract, just add tasty speculation. The way she dropped them unceremoniously to the deck plate might suggest they weren't the most comfortable! On a docked Jem'Hadar ship a Breen energy weapon is being installed, overseen by a Vorta named Luaran (played by Kitty Swink, the wife of Armin Shimerman, which makes it even more disappointing that Quark doesn't show his face in this one as it would be fun trivia that they'd acted together, although she had previously played Minister Rozahn in Season 2's 'Sanctuary,' and made a great Vorta here - interesting to note that the current 'Star Trek Encyclopedia' wrongly lists her as playing Vayna, and Betty McGuire as Rozahn in that episode!). But hang on, the Female Changeling shows up and isn't she sure to recognise Kira, Damar and Garak? Until I remembered this was Odo, again in disguise (how did he know exactly how far her disease had spread?), all part of the plan to take over the ship, and a very effective plan it was. Salome Jens does very well pretending to be Odo pretending to be her, such as when he looks slightly uncomfortable as he passes the weapon to Garak, who promptly kills everyone on the Bridge.
Odo doesn't use weapons, doesn't like weapons, so again it's very true to his character that he would share a look like that, and then question whether killing them was necessary. It's all very well put together, and then the tension rises as we hear the weapon hasn't been fully installed yet, so they'll have to 'sit tight' as Kira puts, which enrages Rusot - he was looking for his opportunity, but Garak has been looking for him looking for his opportunity and puts a gun on him. Odo has collapsed, his facade finally broken and Damar is the one to break up Rusot's threat by killing him. I like that they don't even show his death, they concentrate on Damar and the cool way he dispatches this misguided friend, stepping over him and acknowledging the old Cardassia is gone. And with that, Kira is free to cradle Odo for a powerful ending where she admits she knew the extent of his covering up the illness - the music reminded me of 'Into The West' from the end of 'The Return of The King,' just a little portion of it, and I wish that had been on the CD set rather than the good, but martial, Worf and Gowron duel (though I haven't bought the second volume, so it could be on there).
There's much to admire about the structure of this episode, the words that were written, but also the production work that went into carrying it all off. It's another truly great episode full of the kind of Trek detail we expect and cherish (Gowron's 'I would kill you where you stand,' to Worf is very much like the Starfleet Klingon's same statement to Picard in 'First Contact,' also written by Moore; Worf doing the death cry over Gowron's body; Worf using the broken pieces of his bat'leth to win the fight), but also internal logic that makes sense (the unlikelihood of Bashir being able to find a cure for a disease that all the resources of the Dominion have failed in; Section 31 being tracked down by him and O'Brien when it's remained in hiding for three hundred years - take that 'DSC'!), and the setting up of a grand scheme of rejuvenation and change for the major powers in the coming years, a changing of the guard to a better, softer galaxy that, as I said earlier, would have been (and still is), a fascinating sandbox for writers of the 'DS9' calibre to explore. Somehow I don't get the same feeling about the current crop of writers and I can't imagine the forthcoming 'Lower Decks' animated series, set as it is right after 'Nemesis' a few short years after the end of 'DS9,' is likely to tackle the political and social ramifications promised by all this. But we'll always have 'DS9' to show the whippersnappers how it could be, how it was, and how it should, be done!
****
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