Virtuoso (2)

 DVD, Voyager S6 (Virtuoso) (2)

It does come across as an inconsequential comedy at first, as the Doctor reaches new heights of conceitedness when he inadvertently introduces a condescending, arrogant race to music and becomes an overnight sensation. It's yet another examination of fandom, a theme that has run through a couple of episodes already this season, and who would be a better tool to use for such an exploration than the Prince of Puffed-Up, Lord of the Big Head, the Great and Magnificent Emergency Medical Holographic Maestro himself: The DOCTORRRRRR! Tool is the operative word in that sentence, and that potential dichotomy of his personhood versus his use is the point things take a turn towards hitherto unseen depths in the story. It's fun, if irrelevant to see this race of little people go from dismissive arrogance towards the assistance of Voyager's 'inferior' crew, to hanging on the Doctor's every note, giving him everything he wants in order to perform to the masses and thrill an entire culture of Qomar. As opposed to the Komar. Or the Pommar. Or the Pomers (no, wait, Scarlett Pomers played Naomi Wildman and she does not appear). There really wasn't much to say about the episode until it was more than half over and I was genuinely wondering why I had this down in memory as one of the classics of the series. Had my taste in comedy changed so much that what I'd previously considered hilarious was now mildly irritating, taking the Doctor's deficiencies too far?

No. I hadn't been wrong, it just takes a long while for the episode to kick into gear. The Doctor's personal character flaws, his shallowness in responding so wholeheartedly to anyone that sees him as he sees himself, playing his ego like a harp, can only get a story so far, and we've seen it many times as his program grew. It makes sense that he should be so, since his template was that of an imperfect man of large character flaws himself, and what Man makes will always have the flaws of Man within it (one reason the whole issue of artificial intelligence is such a hot topic these days). The Doc was never some cold AI machine, he was invested with all the training and lore of compassion and care. Not perhaps from his programming (as we can see from his early activations where he had little understanding of how to treat people), which was designed merely as supplementary to ship's Chief Medical Officer, but through his interactions with people he came to call friends, specifically Kes (from his perspective as pupil of 'human' nature), and latterly Seven (as mentor). It is these friends that he's so quick to abandon when he sees the opportunity to seize his dream of being loved for who he is rather than the medical expertise he was created to perform. His own interests have taken him to music, so music has become his defining feature, or one of them, and when this race seems to appreciate the very thing that is unique to his own choices rather than being predetermined, he feels validation and that appeals to him more than any sense of duty.

This is where the episode takes off, practically vertically as we're plunged into an argument between he and the Captain over whether he should be treated the same as any other member of the crew. We've already seen she's accepting of a person's need to leave the ship since they are in such a unique position, as in 'The 37's' when she gave the whole crew the choice to stay or go. Since then they've only grown closer and I wonder if the choice would be offered again, that seemed more like a once in a lifetime moment, but no one chose to stay and it vindicated Janeway's magnanimity in allowing people to make their own decision, even if it meant the whole ship and its mission to return home could be put in jeopardy. I wish the Doctor had actually cited that episode, but then 'Voyager' was not quite as careful about recalling continuity within itself as some Treks. Unintentionally funny was the fact that Harry Kim is brought up as the example by which he might be allowed to leave, the Doc citing a hypothetical situation where he meets a woman and decides to stay with her (not so funny when you think of his misdemeanour in 'The Disease' last season, not to mention his unfortunate experience in 'Favourite Son'), and Janeway says it's not the same thing, thereby implying Harry's not that important! I know that's not what she meant, but that's how it jumped out at me! On top of that he adds another failure to his record when one young Qomarian woman accosts him in the Mess Hall only to ask for an introduction to the Doctor!

The argument brought us to the heart of what the story was about, because up until then it was merely covering old ground in the Doc's love of appreciation. The argument itself is old ground, but never before has he wished to leave - he's not just responding to the adoration of being an opera star, he's under the impression that Tincoo, the woman who took a particular interest in him, cares for him beyond even his novelty value and singing abilities. He thinks he's found something permanent that has been missing in his life on Voyager, and with the side order of planetary fame it seems like an offer he can't turn down. But it is an alien culture and he hasn't understood it, blinded by his own pleasure at the universal acceptance and love he's received. It goes back and forth on whether Janeway sees him as a part of the ship's systems or as a person. Interestingly, I only just watched the 'DSC' Season 4 episode, '...But To Connect' in which it's stated the Federation of the 33rd Century don't allow sentient AI to be integrated into ship's systems, which is exactly what the Doctor is - perhaps he was the precedent and I wished they'd mentioned him. The reality is that he is considered every bit a member of Voyager's crew, not merely a piece of technology they rely on. He even admits later that the medical side of his life hasn't been that fulfilling since he rarely gets to push the envelope in the work he does, another sign that he's grown far beyond his original programming, but also a good reminder that life isn't always creative and stimulating, sometimes it can be drudgery and it's about being able to cope with that.

For good or ill he has become an essential member, one of the most important people because of what he can do. But it's not only that, it's also the fact that people genuinely care for him, as shown by the lukewarm reception he gets when he goes to say goodbye - Paris is more bewildered than anything (which may explain his saying he's been helping out for three years - I was sure it'd been pre-Season 3 when he became a nurse or medic training in Sickbay, wasn't it at first a way to see Kes more? But according to the Encylopedia it was in Season 4's 'Revulsion,' so perhaps that was the time he was permanently in that capacity maybe only an occasional extra prior to that?), but it's Seven who has the strongest reaction (barring the Captain's initial dismay and disgust with his decision). Once again Jeri Ryan displays what an incredible range she has in such simple ways, endearing her to us yet again (shame she can't manage it in 'Picard'!) - the sullen, sulky exchange, followed by a lingering look after the Doctor's left her Cargo Bay home, says so much. And she it is that takes it to a whole new level at the end, concluding the episode in typically (for the Golden Age of Trek, anyway!), moving and meaningful form when she gives the Doctor one last fan letter. At first he thinks she's come to gloat, not realising his loss would have meant so much to her, and it really kicks the episode up another gear, if the mix of dreams crushed and humiliation hadn't already reached the heights.

We've seen the Doctor learn his lesson before, but he's never quite gone as far as he did this time, actually handing in his resignation for a new life as the star of another culture. It was a hard road for him to travel, the great heights of fame and adoration meant he had a long way to fall. Maybe it's a fable about false expectations brought about by the skewing of reality as experienced through fame, but it's the personal that matters, the care of those close, family and friends, not strangers that care only about their own fantasy or an idealised image which can cause a person to lose themselves. The first half isn't as enjoyable because it does take things too far (essential as it was to cruelly build the Doctor's hopes so stratospherically), perhaps discussing fan mail, having an autograph signing, or Tom and Chakotay mentioning rock and roll gives things the step too far towards our reality and time (and you can see how modern Trek has gone even further along that road to the extent they talk like us, have the same attitudes and views about everything, and even behaviour, making it laughable it's supposed to be a future society!), but Trek at this time was still maintaining a sense of culture and high class about itself - if the Doc really had taken up playing rock guitar (like another famous doctor, the awful modern 'Dr. Who'), it would have lost that sense of poignancy that his performances of opera or folksongs had. It's also much easier to comprehend the extreme lack of taste the Qomar had when they replaced him and his beautiful singing voice with a mathematically improved version to appeal to their specific appreciation of such things.

Mr. Kim had a third strike out in the episode, his first in fact: he brings his old clarinet out again (there's some good continuity), to mild displeasure on the Qomars' side. Poor guy, he doesn't have a good episode. I could say the same about the majority of the cast in terms of failing to give them good B-stories - B'Elanna is allowed to turn the tables and utter a traditionally Trek doctor retort ("I'm an engineer, not a costume designer"), and Neelix, Chakotay, Kim and Tuvok also have little worthwhile to do. I don't need everyone to appear every time or all to have significant scenes, but they could have been worked in better and it did become the template for too much of the series to focus on the Doctor, Janeway and Seven of Nine, no matter how good they were here (and they were very good). Seven throws up a question about shipboard etiquette when she's able to order a Red Alert from Astrometrics, much to the Captain's surprise. This could indicate she bypassed protocols in her hurry to react to what she saw as an alien incursion (flooding them with junk mail), or it could mean that Janeway was only surprised that it was a Red Alert out of the blue rather than one that hadn't been activated by a superior officer. Could it be like a fire alarm in our buildings today so if anyone sees something dangerous they can set it off? I prefer the idea that only whoever's on duty on the Bridge can activate it and Seven was simply doing what she's done so often and taking matters into her own hands.

The only other thing I would mention is you can tell when Voyager is a creation of CGI and when it's the model, not only due to the familiar stock footage always being used that makes it stand out when it's not, the CGI has a slightly plasticky sheen to it as if moulded out of a different material than the solid model. Highly detailed plasticine, maybe? It didn't detract, and I would even say the other vessels and station, all that busy Qomar space, looked fine, so it must be more to do with familiarity with how Voyager looks that it would be more difficult to trick the eye with what was still relatively early computer graphics, something the series sometimes fell down on. The guest cast didn't have any familiar faces, largely because they were representing a race of peculiarly short stature, not something that comes up all that often, but there was one face in the audience that I thought I recognised - he wasn't credited, but according to Memory Alpha he was Leonard John Crofoot an actor dating back to the first season of 'TNG' when he played Trent in 'Angel One' and later, the unfinished form of Lal in 'The Offspring,' the latter in which he also went uncredited. I wonder how that came about, it was such a minor role, but I'm glad I wasn't imagining that I recognised him!

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