Mortal Coil

DVD, Voyager S4 (Mortal Coil)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

Sacrifices

DVD, Stargate SG-1 (Sacrifices)

Jaffa politics, and especially Jaffa soap opera, has never been my favourite part of the series, yet it is tied firmly into the mythology, could even be said to be the backbone of the series' narrative arc, and in this episode we get both: a handy walk-and-talk update on the politics from Daniel, and some insight into Jaffa life, unsurprising since this was written by Christopher Judge, so you know what to expect: a heavily featured Teal'c, the other characters taking pretty much a back seat for the most part, and Teal'c's extended family playing a larger role. But while it may be predictable that Judge would put his character in the spotlight, it's not merely ego, but because he seems to enjoy expounding upon the rites and wherefores of Jaffa culture. This time it's marriage, with young (or not so young now), Rya'c choosing to marry one of Ishta's women warriors, something which his Father believes he isn't ready for. Fortunately, while the story skips lightly over gender warfare with both sides falling out over a particular ancient custom (the bride must kneel before her husband), and Ishta taking Teal'c's parenting worries as a personal slight against a pupil she trained, we don't get bogged down in the politics of it all as more important issues are at hand.

For one, Moloc, the System Lord Ishta's band have been fighting against, has discovered their location, forcing them to approach the people of the Tare for help in locating a new planet to colonise. Jack is happy to help, as long as their entourage of children and horses (this must be the first time we've ever seen a horse go through the Stargate!), don't have to stay on the base too long (there's an old saying of never working with children and animals!). He also gets the best line when, upon Carter informing him of the Jaffa's request for a goat for a ritual sacrifice, he denies it, but says they can have a piñata! Brilliant! There's also the matter of the marriage happening at the SGC because, for some reason, it needs to be done as soon as possible, presumably to bolster morale and show that even when they're down, they still follow their ancient customs. It turns into a bit of an O'Brien/Keiko affair from 'TNG' with Rya'c and bride to be, Kar'yn, have a major falling out during the rehearsal of the ceremony, presided over by Master Bra'tac, over the kneeling. She refuses to kneel for anyone, her pride overcoming her devotion to the lad. Bra'tac has some stiff teaching about respect to Rya'c, though not in the manner you might have expected - rather than brute force and bruises with a staff, he lets him have it with a moving reminder of what Teal'c did to keep his family safe, the atrocities he committed under Apophis, and how he finally made his decision to join the Tare when he saw there was a chance to stand up to the Goa'uld, which made a difference and is the best scene of the episode.

Jolene Blalock doesn't do quite so well, coming across as rather shouty and not very natural in her delivery, and this may be one of her weaker performances - perhaps she was better suited to the unemotional Vulcans (she was still starring in 'Enterprise' at this time). For all her feminist anger and views she doesn't seem to be against the rule of a woman to kneel before her husband, so maybe she's more conventional than she seems? When we see the ending, all happy families as the hitching goes off without a hitch, there's never any kneeling or even a bow, so it's unclear whether Kar'yn agreed to the stipulation, or Rya'c did the same for her, or if his mention at the end to Dad about maybe some rituals being a good idea to ignore, was part of it. It is a nice end, though with the sting in the tail that the beaten forces of Moloc (who gets blasted chest-first by a laser-guided missile), are sucked up by another System Lord: Baal, unfortunately, who's power continues to grow.

The summit on the planet, Ishta and Teal'c attend to convince the Jaffa what needs to be done (Ishta says strike, Teal'c believes they must wait until all Jaffa can rise up against all Goa'uld), turns into a massacre as Moloc's forces ambush them. There's an odd side story about a Jaffa that goes on the run with Ishta and Teal'c whom they suspect might be a spy, but turns out not to be, but that only seemed to be a minor blind to draw the story out a bit and keep us guessing. It's really all about Teal'c doing a daring run with two staff weapons tied together so he can fire out of either end, but that's fine - if Judge wants Teal'c to have more action scenes, I say let him. I do sense some major flaws in the Goa'uld tactics, however - rather than dial out their 'gate to prevent the SGC from contacting Teal'c, they're happy to hold ground around it, waiting in case someone comes through. Instead an AV (Siler's starring role), is what greets them, carrying vital Tretonin for the fugitives, and then the missiles. They don't even seem to have the ability to intercept radio signals, which you'd think with their level of technology, would be a simple thing. Not that they've ever been the most cogent of enemies, to say the least. There are a lot of elements, but few are taken very far in development, purely there to advance the story: case in point the weakening through lack of Tretonin, which should have been a tense and worrying experience, but isn't. Despite the lack of exploration of many of the ideas posited, it's still quite a good ride, and my rewatching has given me greater appreciation for story building so it's actually better than the sum.

***

The Hunter

DVD, The Hunter (2011) film

Sometimes you come across a film that is a truly unexpected gem, and for its lack of fanfare it seems even better. This is one of those films. Proof, if it were needed, that the BBC iPlayer has the potential to put one in touch with smaller, but no less dramatic and absorbing films, that otherwise might never have been encountered. It has a powerful ending that is both positive and redemptive, stronger for being on the heels of devastation, so coming to it on DVD, I'm surprised it hadn't stuck in my mind from when I first caught it on the iPlayer - I just had a vague recollection that the hunter of the title went against his paymasters and didn't do the deed he set out to, but that wasn't entirely the case and it was an incredibly affecting, tragic end. The exquisitely solemn landscapes, beautiful even in their bleakness, were as much a character in the story as New Zealand was to 'The Lord of The Rings,' and to see this solitary figure stride out amidst them brings tears to the eyes and a primal yearning that we all have within us for the natural world, its majesty and its remoteness.

Martin David is a kind of antihero (a professional hunter, hired by a shady corporation for a despicable assignment to hunt the last Tasmanian Tiger), if there can be simple concepts of hero and villain in such a subtle film that feels artistic without being artsy - even when we have a bunch of hippies having a little get together, we only see them as ordinary people doing cartwheels or sitting around chatting in an extraordinary landscape, where it could easily have degenerated into a cliched and obvious 'Save The Planet' angle. Instead it's about the precise, measured, unobtrusive David, a specialist of the highest order. At least, we assume he is, because we're pretty much told nothing except what we gather from his methodical, patient, and largely unemotional nature. The contrast between his lavish, glass-fronted hotel room where every piece of toiletry is ordered and he listens to classical music on an iPod, is roughly contrasted by the homely, but neglected, surroundings he finds himself in. Clearly a lot is going on in his mind, but we're not privy to that, so there's some amusement to be had by the innocent way the children of the shack he rents out a room in, invade his boundaries of necessary privacy and isolation.

A perfect antidote for all the big budget, mega-blockbuster, epic cinema that muscles most of the attention, and proof that drama can be had without bombast, menace without manifest violence and explosive action. The world David enters is vastly different, either from his experience or tastes, but in his own way he's a kindly man, allowing his professionalism to suffer a little in response to the woman and children. It's not as simple as turning up to look for a Tiger and fulfil his hunting quota, he is confronted by unemployment issues versus conservation with some people overtly aggressive, others more grey in motivation (such as the family's watcher, ideally cast with Sam Neill in the role, since he's so often the straight arrow good guy). This could easily have been the kind of film where the main character takes on a bar full of burly, angry patrons with nowhere to vent their anger, except at strangers, to show how manly he is, but though he's pushed too far at one point, it doesn't become 'First Blood,' with a lone wolf against the world.

David is diplomatic, cultured, capable and well skilled in both domestic and forest survival, though the last thing he wants is attention brought to himself. But he's also not a stone heart and can't bring himself to tell the family what has happened to their missing Father, tasked as he was by the forthright little girl to look out for him when he goes off into the wild. From the off, quite apart from the uncertain tone (which makes you uneasy, and not entirely sure where the story is going to go), there's a mix of menace from the people, and melancholy from the wilderness, which has been marked for logging. Just as David is a marked man, slurred with the derogatory title 'Greenie' for his cover as scientist and conservationist, the forest is also marked for destruction. This place where a man can get lost for days on end will eventually be gone.

Willem Dafoe's haggard face and piercing blue eyes are the perfect reflection of the wilds staring back at him, and while the film can become a little slow, in those moments of the man wandering the landscape, planting, baiting or checking traps, even then it has an element of ancient survival about it. Could there be others doing exactly what he's doing? Is he alone up there, apart from the animals? Amidst all this heightened survival stuff, tolerating the elements, you feel he's more at home there than the society he periodically returns to. At the same time he makes improvements to the little shack and the lives of the family it holds, fixing them both with his simple desire for order - cleaning the bath; making the children dinner; restoring the woman by removing her suspiciously prescribed drugs. It's a wonderfully tragic moment when she first awakes to the sound of her husband's record player, the electricity flowing after Martin's mended the generator: half in a dream stumbling joyously out to her family, only to be shocked to find, rather than the missing husband, unexpectedly returned beyond hope, a stranger celebrating with her children. Dafoe has such a stark face that it would have been very much a shock if you thought you were embracing your long lost husband only to look up and see him instead!

It's noticeable that things are much more peaceful when David is away from people, around which only then is there foul language and high tempers, the wilds a refuge for his craft as much as his occupation - he's a character that I'd happily see another film about since we're left with an open future for him, and no doubt Red Leaf want him dead, so there's no lack of story potential. But perhaps I'm missing the point, and this expertly contained story is all the better for not giving us backstory and laying all the cards out on the table right from the off. Maybe it's better left as it is and wanting more from this character and his world is greedy after being satisfied? It's an inspiring film that doesn't take the easy, Hollywood route, and you can imagine just how it would have been altered for the worse if suits had forced their input. It's better because it isn't what you'd expect, not a typical story you can guess the stages of. Probably because it was a book first, one I really must get hold of… I'm not saying it's a masterpiece of modern cinema, but it is a satisfying story, refreshing, and definitely recommended by me.

***

Concerning Flight

DVD, Voyager S4 (Concerning Flight)

Over the years we've explored many a state of holographic existence in the Trek realm, from the earliest days of 'TNG' we saw villainous characters learn a degree of sentience (Cyrus Redblock), or even full self-awareness (Moriarty). We've seen real people represented in holographic setting against their wills (Kira/Quark in 'Meridian;' several of the 'DS9' cast in 'Our Man Bashir'), and even characters that had a knowledge of their existence, but had been programmed to accept it rather than for it to mess up their function in the program (Vic Fontaine). On this very series we've had the most exposure for a holographic crewmember of any (the Emergency Medical Hologram), and thanks to some Temporal Directive-ignoring actions from Janeway (why should she follow a Directive that hasn't even been invented in her time?), we got to the stage of a fully free, functioning equal member to the flesh and blood crew (or organics as psycho-gram Dejaren called them in 'Revulsion' - another aspect of holographic life, one who was so repulsed by his crew of solids he murdered every one). But I can't think of another example of a wise mentor character transposed from the environs of his holographic home and forced to accept an alien world as reality as it is with the great maestro, Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), or his photonic likeness, Janeway had been using for rest and relaxation (although whether jumping into cold rivers to test the mechanics of a flying machine is relaxing, I'm not so sure!). I thought we saw her atypically leave the program running to set up a shot of da Vinci being beamed away, but we never see it happen as it was the processor, not the man himself, which was taken.

There's an impression that John Rhys-Davies made several appearances in the role, but in fact this was only his second (after 'Scorpion'), and final one. Partly it's because we saw the da Vinci workshop several times (who can forget the Doc in period garb from 'Scientific Method'?), as it was such a detailed and well-crafted set (I imagine the art department must have been excited to recreate the flying machine, an extension of this period design), but Rhys-Davies has a lot to do with it, too, for bringing his larger than life persona to it, and digging in to the role. For a good proportion of the episode I struggled to recall why I had such good memories of it - not that it was bad or poorly executed, just somewhat unremarkable. But somewhere along the line I realised what makes it one of the greats of the season: the pairing of Janeway with her artificial mentor, switching their positions so the apprentice becomes the master, yet making his presence not only necessary, but essential to her survival, without even mentioning the fragility of The Doctor's mobile holoemitter, his greatest source of emancipation and part of his being. If anything, that side effect could have done with much more exploration as all we get are a couple of comical scenes with an irritable Doc cooped up in Sickbay, his cabin fever reducing him to plead for gossip from the least communicative member of the crew, Seven of Nine and reverting him back to his Seasons 1-3 position: trapped on a screen, unable to attend briefings in person - it show how much physical freedom can affect mental wellbeing, even for a hologram, probably one reason why he mellowed so much once that was attained.

Perhaps emphasising the importance of the emitter would have taken away from the preciousness of Janeway's attachment to Leonardo, and made him seem only of secondary importance, thus undercutting the story, but I just felt a little more fear for the losses Voyager incurred would have been recommended, not to mention whether the aliens were beaming items away at random or with purpose. It was certainly a novel idea to misuse the Transporter as a weapon (and could have been seen to greater extremes if it had torn strips off the ship), and I'm surprised we haven't seen such technology used in this way before. When it comes down to it, the Captain is the most important missing piece, and it is her persuasion for the man who believes he is her mentor, her ability to coax and direct this recreation of a great mind from history, that creates a delightful pairing to makes the episode special, culminating in their uplifting flight of emotion, rising away from danger into success (if only the real da Vinci had had access to duranium alloy back in his day - history might have been a little different!), crowning the episode with beauty and joy as distinguished as Master Leonardo's grey locks (and making me think of the film 'Fly Away Home' for its soaring spirit). Janeway gets to take real risks, far more exciting than the safe environment of the Holodeck, no safety net of a river, and Leonardo, who's strange experiences are a story within the story, recovers from the humiliation he felt when his first attempt at flying failed so miserably to the jeers of his home crowd.

Janeway could easily have turned the emitter containing da Vinci's program off, just as we see Tuvok pausing him mid-speech (a good effect because they freeze the picture, although when Janeway turns him back on you can see Rhys-Davies swaying slightly!), but where would the fun in that be? I'm reminded of the rationale Janeway gave Seven at the end of the previous episode where she emphasised the importance of a little fun, enjoying the experience rather than treating it as mere diversion from their main goal of reaching home - I sensed that Janeway, as Katerina, was enjoying living a real adventure with one of her heroes, in spite of the deadly serious nature of the mission to retrieve the computer core and other essential supplies (such as when she impishly tells Tuvok to distract da Vinci with small talk - wisely, the Vulcan gets the master talking about himself). The story was well constructed to make it a necessity to keep the program running because he had been taken on by a 'patron' (Tau, the villain responsible for stealing Voyager's equipment), and was a way in to that world. I don't quite know why Tau allowed his program to keep running - either he hadn't experimented with the emitter and didn't know how to turn it off, or more likely, it amused him to have this alien artifice seeing the world through new eyes. I'm surprised he or his men never noticed da Vinci knew Janeway and realised her identity quicker, but he didn't seem like the cleverest of antagonists (even if John Vargas, who played him, had some pedigree, with a credit on 'Star Trek II'), despite Leonardo's praise of his patron's mind - anyone that had futuristic knowledge would probably appear intelligent to the eyes of a 15th Century man.

I like to think Tau (very reminiscent of the Tarlac of 'Insurrection' and even the long-faced slave-trader of 'Rajiin' on 'Enterprise'), made time to sit down and discuss the ways of this world, without letting on that it was another world, and it might have been beneficial to show us that, to make him a more dimensional villain, rather than a mere pirate scavenger preying on ships and selling their vital components on at inflated prices. He makes an effort to come across as a charming businessman when Janeway makes her custom obvious, yet he also seems rather small time compared to the likes of Annorax or the Borg - we only see a couple of his minions, and when Janeway and Leonardo are trying to escape it's only him and one guard that pursue and fire at the flying machine. We needed to see a gang of phaser-wielding heavies racing after them to infuse the escape with greater tension, though the flight more than makes up for any shortcomings in scale. Indeed, the creators appeared to have learned from the previous episode in creating an expansive scope for an alien world, far from the cramped set-bound alleys and narrow streets squashed together, we have a wide, bustling marketplace full of aliens wandering to and fro, bartering and chattering (was my Universal Translator on the blink or were those aliens we track across the screen speaking an alien dialect - it was a bit 'Star Wars' in a Mos Eisley Spaceport kind of way). We also have a beautiful matte painting as backdrop for when Janeway and her fellow escapee flee into the hills, the natural environment, as well as the varied locales (we also see an industrial area), helping no end to sell this as a world. It also helps that alien makeup always looks better in natural light.

Astrometrics, too, plays its part in visualising the terrain, flexing its newly born muscles with its first proper runout to show us a plan view of the ground (although I wasn't clear on why they didn't just zoom in on Janeway's location with a closeup, unless their orbit had taken them further round the planet at that key moment, which begs the question why they didn't simply hover at planet-keeping, or drop low enough to get a better lock, though I suppose they needed to keep clear so Tau didn't know they were in the area and scarper). Seven's new home has the look of a futuristic window on the galaxy, and while it may not live up to the Stellar Cartography of 'Generations,' on a TV budget it makes a useful addition, not least as an abode for Seven's skills and desire for solitariness, which, despite her wrench away from the millions of voices of the Collective, she prefers, as it's a calmer environment where she can concentrate fully on relevant tasks. Until Harry drops by to help out and tries to explain that the way she speaks could be a little more diplomatic… There's no set B-story, most of the characters having scenes here or there: Chakotay holding the Bridge while Janeway's on the Away Mission, B'Elanna tasked with creating a defence against the Translocator beam; the Doc getting antsy in Sickbay… Seven's interactions are the closest we come to a thread running through, and it's nice to see her individually with Harry, the Doc and Tuvok. She seems almost as Vulcan as Tuvok (and in my opinion was a much better-written role as an emotionless, logical female than T'Pol in 'Enterprise').

We only hear about her altercation with Torres, but I can see why the half-Klingon might have been more prone to flaring up than usual (though at least she doesn't have Seven underfoot any more - maybe Astrometrics was built because she couldn't have stood the ex-drone in Engineering a moment longer?), what with an important console getting nicked right under her nose and being given the order to engineer a defence against this weapon, probably on top of her normal duties and with less computing power at her disposal. That was another side to the episode that could have been elaborated upon, the tension increased if we thought Voyager was dead in the water, or severely hampered (as Tuvok says in response to Janeway's order to 'Fire at will!,' "I have the will, but not the means," an amusing rejoinder to a common phrase!). The loss of equipment and the computer core didn't appear to make very much difference, and again I say that to increase the tension they should have made it imperative that every last piece of stolen booty be recovered, even the phaser rifle and uniform Chakotay allows a trader to keep in exchange for reluctant information. But the episode isn't really about tension as much as it is about Janeway having to deal with a recalcitrant hologram (she's well up to the challenge having had plenty of practice in that department!), Leonardo refusing to return to 'Europe' where he isn't allowed to fail, and wants to stay in the 'New World of The Americas,' where if it is a cage (he makes the point we're all prisoners of those more powerful than us), it is one of gold.

What most appeals in the episode are he and Janeway's conversations - she has the mastery of him, despite looking like a boyish young apprentice in her pastel shaded clothing and short hair (I have to wonder why she didn't wear period dress or casual clothes in the holoprogram - unless she was due on duty as soon as she was done with her 'book,' or maybe even on call, or perhaps a Starfleet uniform is so comfortable she prefers it most of the time, absolutely nothing to do with money-saving measures by the production team, I'm sure!). Her skill at keeping the confused and stubborn master on track for her purposes, while explaining things in a way he can understand, without really explaining, is impressive - not only can she stand up to any villains with steel backbone, keep her crew together in spite of the odds against so many calamities, she can fulfil the role of an apprentice without losing control over an artificial, though great, mind that is renowned for its curiosity and invention. He's able to process almost all the information in ways he can understand, as wonders of the New World. Whether alien faces, since we know he can see they're different by his attention to, and sketches of, Tuvok's 'Scandinavian' ears ("Monstrous and wonderful are the people of undiscovered lands"), the ship's computer and its voice interaction (a box with a mechanical woman inside, perhaps a vague reference to 'Metropolis' - probably not far from the truth where Majel Barrett was concerned, with all the audio recording she had to do across so many series'!), to pistols that fire lightning (I love the way he takes the phaser from Janeway and Tuvok like a parent confiscating a dangerous toy).

Earlier I said that they could have simply switched him off, but equally they could have gone in the opposite direction, Janeway filling his mind with the wonders of the future and his true state, but it worked best as it was - he does question existence after getting an inkling things aren't right, having seen the phaser blast pass through him (narrowly missing the emitter!), asking his protege if they are actually dead, in Purgatory, or spirits. It's a fascinating moment of existential angst for a holocharacter, but it is lovely that his fondness for Katerina is what motivates him beyond any other, which shows what a bond she's struck up with him in her interactions - you get the sense that Janeway plays as hard as she works, having really invested herself into the program back when they were on the ship, and no less of that passion is directed in her force of personality when dealing with whatever situation arises: your heart sinks when Tau appears, having overheard her combadge conversation with the ship, but her steely resolve turns it around and you then begin to feel he's going to get far more than he bargained for. Leonardo takes the drastic step of battering his patron to the ground, yet in keeping with his character, desires to hang around to face his wrath and make explanation, and though he refuses to go back to Europe for any reason, he will do it for her. It was fortuitous he had crafted his prize flying machine up on the very hill the Captain beams them to, but I'm not going to cry foul when it brings such a joyous finale.

I remember it being an unexpected pleasure to find that da Vinci would be returning, and in such a wonderful way. It's not a typical episode, nor is it a great science fiction story, their choice isn't to explore the experiences of a hologram in terms of realising sentience as had been done before and was continually being done in the longest arc for a character of that kind, The Doctor, but to explore Janeway's ability to command even those above her 'station.' I especially appreciate that they don't rush the episode to conclusion and hit the credits, but allow time for a coda, to wrap up Janeway and Leonardo's experiences together. It ends with a jaunty, harpsichord-type period tune so rare for Trek, but Leonardo is such a vivacious and curious old man you wish to see him react to this futuristic world again, or even just be there as solace for Janeway, and it's genuinely saddening that this is his last appearance - I can imagine he and Janeway in many more adventures, he'd have made an excellent recurring character now and again (especially as the series had turned away from that compared to earlier seasons), a wise figure for the crew to consult, a bit like Vic before he was invented, except this was one time when 'Voyager' could have got in on a concept before 'DS9,' but in their usual tradition they didn't utilise things to their greatest potential. Da Vinci was a good fit and John Rhys-Davies was great in the role, and if the episode sometimes came across as a little like a 'Sliders' episode with much improved budget, it didn't detract from fulfilling interactions. All this and a reference to Kirk's claim of meeting Leonardo, too ('Requiem For Methuselah')!

****

Random Thoughts

DVD, Voyager S4 (Random Thoughts)

Paris had just been shopping when the episode begins, but how did he pay? We see Janeway pay in coin of the realm (she even admits to being unaccustomed to currency), so was it replicated or did they barter for it? If replicated, then there must be something in the Prime Directive about affecting a planet's economy, but I suppose Voyager's small crew weren't going to make much of an impact.

Neelix reprises a scene from 'Caretaker' by having a conversation with someone in the Transporter Room while smelling strongly (Paris doesn't ask if he'd care for a bath).

It's good to hear Tuvok having a telepathic conversation for a change (even if he uses more facial gestures to make up for it!).

Those are my random thoughts. But was this thematic sequel to 'Meld' an episode that had been originally written during Season 2 or 3? I don't know whether its position, following an epic two-parter, may have emphasised its flaws, but it had the strong impression of being an early season episode: human-looking aliens the crew visit for shore leave; cheap-looking, primary-coloured clothes, no alien makeup and flat colours in a cramped 'town' set of tall, narrow buildings and maze-like passageways; some dark secret the crew uncover, lifting the mask of hospitable gentility; and very little Seven of Nine. It could easily be what I always call 'The Episode' (Season 1's 'Time and Again'), as that was a template for so much of the early occupied planetary missions, or perhaps 'Prime Factors,' or even 'Resistance,' 'Remember' or 'Darkling,' with much of the level of mastery found within those stories. But there is a fascination in seeing this transitionary period where they would still hark back to the series' beginnings (such as Janeway discussing things with Tuvok), while existing in a 'post-Kes, Seven of Nine' period (it might have been more interesting if Kes had still been around, what with her unrestrained telepathic abilities that could have made a vast wealth of darkness for the illicit thought peddlers). But though it has some of the limitations of the early seasons, it also features some of its strengths. Namely, that characters such as Tuvok hadn't been relegated to secondary (or even tertiary), status, continuing in the fine tradition of the Vulcan's many investigative episodes (think 'Ex Post Facto' and 'Meld,' amongst others).

It's a good one for Tuvok, who has an admirer of his methods (Nimira, played by Gwynyth Walsh, whom it's great to see out of her B'Etor Klingon makeup, in her only other role on Trek to date - she treats him like a mentor, so out of her depth is she in dealing with violent crime - it vindicates the use of the Brig in Trek as she sees it as an unnecessary violation of freedom, but is forced to realise the usefulness of incarceration, having been a bit snooty before), the Captain consulting with him, and opportunity to follow his usual solitary tactics, which both place him in danger, but also root out the evil undercurrent, putting the seasoned Vulcan at centre stage. It could just as easily have been a B'Elanna episode (or a Kes one), and once again we see the very canny decision to include representatives from two of Trek's most integral races in the main cast, allowing what we know about their dispositions, attitudes and outlook to be reflected in 'Voyager,' proving that even with a series so isolated from the main hub of galactic happenings, we were still tied to the canon and could explore it in satisfying an interesting ways (Bryan Fuller take note: though I'm not specifically advocating a Vulcan or Klingon should be part of 'Star Trek Discovery,' examples of established races that could do with some fleshing out would be a wise move). Yes, B'Elanna's first instinct would be to bare her teeth and snarl at a clumsy oaf, and yes, Tuvok has the mental strength to be able to keep control of his thoughts - that last fact is part of his strategy in which he tricks the malcontents of Mari society into revealing their guilt.

As I watched Tuvok walk into a dangerous situation, a back alley where merchant Guill and his associates are doing business, I was initially dismayed that someone as sensible as the Security Chief would do that, and then he gets overpowered by a paltry three assailants which I felt he could have taken (though he gave them a very good lesson in Vulcan martial arts, or was it wrestling?). It may have been that their bestial urges for violence gave them greater strength, or maybe he was overwhelmed by the telepathically projected emotions, but I think it was all part of his plan to get to the confession of Guill and provide mental evidence of his crimes - he allowed them to get the advantage so that in apparent defeat, he was able to work on Guill and get him to mind meld to gain the mastery (reference is made to the dark images in Tuvok's mind which could be a callback to his experience with Suder in 'Meld'). It was a brave tactic, though it might be unfair to attribute such an emotional motivation to one so logical. But that's why Tuvok is such a great character, certainly one of the best on 'Voyager,' and a constant reminder of how cool the Vulcan race is. It's also a reminder of how cool the office of Security Chief is, continuing the kind of solo quests for justice that both Odo and Worf took part in. It was fortunate that Nimira, Chief Examiner of the Mari constabulary, one of the few remaining officers of the law still required in an almost perfectly law-abiding citizenry, took a liking to Tuvok for his professional abilities and cool, measured way, because she was harsh enough to the crew even then, and would probably not even have listened to Janeway had she not felt a kinship to the more experienced investigator.

Tuvok isn't the only one to form a solid connection with the Mari. No surprise that Neelix, someone who likes to take on ambassadorial duties, and is quick to see the best in people, found a friend so quickly in young Talli. But what seems a humorous and understandable B-story to give him something to do, turns into a dead-end, literally, putting the exclamation mark on the violence that Voyager's crew had inadvertently brought when she's murdered by an old woman for a simple act of clumsiness (were these thoughts being passed around like a virus, or was the woman a 'user' and bought it - if a virus, how would Guill make money when anyone could come into contact with it, but if she was a customer, why would she dredge it up in public?). It rams home the message that there is no such thing as a perfect society where all ills have been eradicated, and makes it very clear that while prohibition is a noble goal for all the wrongs, it is all too easy for those wrongs to go underground, become part of a secret society of evil - people don't have the capacity to be perfect, perhaps an indictment of the Roddenberry vision of the Federation's perfect harmony. I don't think his vision was really perfection, just the attempt to attain it, though with a society, if the morals of right and wrong become confused, then there is no clear 'up' to reach for and they are groping in the dark. I also don't think the message of the episode is for unfettered freedom or allowance of damaging choices, but rather that complacency can lead to just as much destruction as anarchy. I don't think they're suggesting, for example, that recreational, yet harmful drugs, should be legalised for everyone to enjoy at their own risk, rather that vigilance is important so that a society doesn't rest on its laurels if it thinks such issues have been eradicated because they're unseen.

The themes are clearly prohibition in society and pornography, as shown by the inhuman way Guill leaps to B'Elanna's aid with an insatiable glee so that he can mentally grab her momentary fury. He's attracted by the dark inner recesses of the mind which have become ever more desirable to the Mari for being illegal and so harshly punished, walking a dangerous line in being a member of the community, a merchant in the marketplace, and covering his dark network of felons operating a black market in violent or frightening thoughts. The episode is quite uncompromising in its depictions, both in the result of the bloody beating that was apparently triggered by Torres' thought, and the knifing of Talli in an unprovoked attack, more shocking for the fact it was carried out by such an aged woman, overcome by extreme, murderous rage. They don't stint on blood, both the man who was beaten is covered in it, and Talli's head is seen lying in a pool of it, more disturbing for both happening in daylight and the bright environs of the colourful market. But that's just the tip of the iceberg, as we glimpse much worse imagery in Guill's sharing of thoughts with Tuvok - you'd never expect to see a person burning, their skin blackened by a still-raging fire (though the nightmare Neelix sees in 'Jetrel' was similar), but although his flashes of horrific imagery pass in seconds it's still surprising they were allowed to put such things into a Trek episode.

If only the episode had had the time and budget to, as it were, live up to the depths of the nastiest moments, but, and I don't know whether it's the fault of the direction (though I always like the device of flipping between interviewees as seen in the questioning sequence, though it wasn't done as naturally as in 'DS9'), or the cramped production design, the episode didn't fully reach its potential, either in the exploration of what drives people to evil, or the great, classic science fiction idea of people's own thoughts being censored. Somehow, the twisting maze of streets and the claustrophobic environment should have been played upon, but the contrast between the light, happy scenes of the crew relaxing and enjoying time off on an alien world and the dingy back streets with their dreadful secrets, wasn't carried through well enough. The moments of violence are stark and uncomfortable, but the rest of the episode doesn't give strong enough reaction to them in terms of repercussions or an atmosphere. It's just dissipated, and where we should feel uncomfortable about the potential for explosive outbursts for any Mari at any time (maybe Talli should have suddenly turned on Neelix and badly beat him, which would have upped the ante somewhat), and uncertain of Nimira's course of action, since she's both hard on B'Elanna, but respectful and thoughtful around Tuvok, it's like she just flips a switch rather than there being any tension. And that's the key: if you watch episodes like 'Meld' or even 'Darkling,' things are much creepier, and the lightness of much of the episode should have leavened that mood and made the extremes more daring, but instead the intention and mood was blurred.

The episode did succeed with Tuvok's singlehanded takedown of the thought dealers, a good impression of night time, following Guill after his unsatisfactory audience with him into the gloomy side streets. Maybe some smoke or some other device would have made it work even better ('Enterprise' was good at dingy locales), but the fight was well staged and his meld with Guill had the air of Spock's forced meld on Valeris in 'Star Trek VI,' much more atmospheric than the one he did in a bright room with Torres earlier in the episode which was simply a case of slap the hands on the face and be done with it. I'm always an advocate for keeping the mysteriousness and sense of awe in the Vulcans' telepathic powers, retaining the gravity of its deep probing, not an option to be used lightly without preparation. But as I say, the one against Guill had much more meaning to it - long before 'Impulse' Tuvok makes a passable impression of a zombie Vulcan, although I always remembered the sequence as being longer, with him inexorably chasing down Guill and unleashing terrible images designed to terrify the man away from his fascination with the horrors of the mind. In actual fact, it's a brief moment and we don't see any imagery except for Tuvok's steady approach, in the same cut, bruised and ripped clothing he had from the fight in the real world.

As usual, Tuvok makes it clear to B'Elanna that his was no quest for unwarranted defence against alien laws (AVTGBH: Aggravated Violent Thought resulting in Grave Bodily Harm!), but, as ever, for justice, which was a nice, jolly little scene at the end to remind us of the Vulcan way. B'Elanna had calmed down quite a lot since we first met her, much like Kira did on 'DS9,' and with the stability of Tom Paris as a support, and the respect of the crew, she had carved out a comfortable existence on the ship. It's a bit strange that Tom wasn't more evident in the story, being so close to her, the only contribution he makes to her assistance being when he goes to Chakotay to suggest a rescue mission. I like to think that the familiarity between the two stems from the after effects of their experience aboard Annorax' ship in the previous episode. They wouldn't have any actual memory of those events because, essentially, they never happened, but there could be some temporal backwash or whatever terminology you want to use, that could mean they retained some kind of instinct from it, which would explain why Paris talks to Chakotay like that and why the First Officer invites him to sit in the Captain's chair, a rare privilege! He gives good advice, too, not entirely shooting down Paris' suggestion, but letting him come up with a plan he can put before the Captain in case there's no other option.

The reason, of course, that they don't simply beam B'Elanna away and have done with the planet, is due to the Prime Directive, as so many issues are: I think they should include a clause that puts finding out all the laws and bylaws of a planet that's about to be visited at the top of the crew's priority so they don't inadvertently trigger a death sentence or a memory erasure for some seemingly minor infraction (they don't seem to have any rules about the openness of everyone to read each other's thoughts which the crew seem surprisingly unconcerned about!) - episodes like this, or 'Justice' on 'TNG' where Wesley is sentenced to death for walking in a flowerbed (although this episode is different enough to that earlier one to... justify it!), would then not be an issue, although I'm sure some races would still find a way to prosecute, or some wayward crewmember would be lax about the law and come under fire.

The final scene where Seven, largely absent from the episode, marches into Janeway's Ready Room and upbraids the Captain on the ship's policy of exploration and making first contacts because it causes too many problems and isn't the most expedient way to carry out their primary goal of getting home, appeared to be little more than filler for an episode which was under its running time, considering how separate it is from the rest of the story (and the previous scene ended it quite effectively), but thinking about it, it's actually a good decision because it gives justification to why they do what they do. Janeway remains calm and reasonable, despite the breach in protocol from a rude and abrasive Seven (back to being a less conformed member of the family as she was in the 'Year of Hell' episodes, since that took place over months and she'd gone through growth that had been taken away by the resetting of the timeline), accepting her lack of understanding, but firmly informing her that they won't be changing their ways, and that meeting aliens and visiting new planets makes life exciting - they aren't going to avoid the advantage they have to see places and peoples that Starfleet's never even heard of (even if many of them do look similar to Alpha Quadrant encounters!), and it's not just a statement for Seven's benefit, it's aimed at the audience who might be having the same questions about the validity of stopping to explore at so much risk. A message of non-interference, though not non-interaction, even if it means taking those risks.

***

Star Trek 2017 TV Series - Star Trek Discovery

Star Trek 2017 TV Series - Star Trek Discovery

The name is finally revealed: 'Star Trek Discovery,' with seemingly not a colon in sight. It's a nice, simple title, not groundbreaking or evidence of strong creativity and imagination, but it does the job, and would any of the Trek series' titles look impressive when viewed as new? It's the kind of title I've probably already run through my head when thinking of possible suggestions, and then dismissed because it's not cutting edge enough. But perhaps the series is going to be more traditional than we expect? I can see the DNA of so-called 'Prime Universe' Trek all over this project, we've had a taste with the generally positive selection of writers who mostly have some history with old Trek (many would say good Trek), and now the name has echoes of the past with a similarity to 'Voyager,' as well as, with its officially shortened version, 'DSC,' to 'DS9.' In this age of marketing driven creativity I don't think that's a coincidence (or a mistake), as it further solidifies the faithful's hope in Fuller's direction.

As much as, if not more exciting, is the much-anticipated guarantee that the series is, indeed, set back in the beloved Prime Universe I and many others have keenly awaited ever since 'Star Trek: Enterprise' left the TV screens blank in 2005 (or 2006 for me, watching in the pre-digital, terrestrial era where Channel 4 held the broadcast rights in the UK). They may be pushing for exploration into parts unknown, and they still haven't fitted the final major puzzle piece into place to tell us what time period it's set in, but you can be assured that however different a series it begins as, it will eventually acknowledge and continue to explore many of the famous races and creations that have been created across the fifty year epic space saga, adding to the knowledge and encyclopaedic detail, and that is a very tasty proposition indeed.

With the official name, the logo has also been unveiled, and… it's the same as the teaser logo, with no attempt to improve it from its fractured, ugly state. It could still change in the coming months, and I can live with it if it doesn't, but it does retain the chunky, thumpingness of the Abramsverse (recently officially rechristened the 'Kelvin Timeline,' perhaps so, like the 'Mirror Universe' before it, it can be a potential visiting destination for one or two episodes of the new series), rather than the sharper, slightly more intricate logos of the nineties and 2000s. One thing I do like is the way the cleave down the Starfleet chevron centres up perfectly with the Discovery and its horizontal struts and it does improve the balance of the design with the addition of 'Discovery', even if the texture, colours and font remain a little unappealing. The colours of silver and gold are reminiscent of the 'DS9' and 'Voyager' logos, and if this is a further hint on the era it's set in then I'm all for it. However, if the ship's design is to be believed, then we may getting a firm hint at that…

The big reveal was of early footage of the new ship, USS Discovery NCC-1031. The registry is lower even than the original Enterprise (1701), suggesting a 22nd or 23rd Century ship. There's also much of the Trek DNA in its design, not least that it's one that I believe was a possible Enterprise long ago, whether for the first 1701 or the 'D' of 'TNG,' I can't recall, but it's definitely based on an established idea, although these tiny details could be a negative: a prequel series was effectively what sank Trek on TV, and the ship in 'Enterprise' was also less than an original idea, being based on the Akira-class vessels glimpsed in 'Star Trek: First Contact.' But we're told this is only test footage, not the final vessel, which is probably for the best as the CG doesn't look much of a step up from 'Enterprise.' It's a bit strange for them to give away the ship design so early, but then we live in strange times, with the internet still little more than an optional commodity when the previous TV series launched - now every series and film is all about gathering social media into a snowball of anticipation and chatter, sadly, showing people aren't able to wait patiently for anything. Saying that, it is good to see, and while I still wish for an Enterprise-J series one day, an established idea being resurrected seems like a good way to go. It has the effect of a saucer from the best iteration of the Enterprise (the refit of 'The Motion Picture'), with the topside reminiscent of the 'E,' a rear similar to the NX-01, the wideness giving a hint of the Reliant from 'Star Trek II,' and though the whole doesn't yet appear graceful, it remains an intriguing proposition.

The anticipation meter remains firmly in high gear, but until the era is confirmed, I will hold off on giving it the full five stars. Now that we're over the hump of the latest film, 'Star Trek Beyond,' things should begin to gear up as Real Star Trek approaches, if not at warp speed, then certainly full impulse. Let's hope it engages!

Anticipation: ****

Year of Hell, Part II

DVD, Voyager S4 (Year of Hell, Part II)

You could easily look upon this two-parter as an ultimately pointless exercise. We don't learn anything about an alien race that will become integral to the unfolding Trek lore, we don't get any permanent development for the USS Voyager's crew, and nothing is discovered that will have a lasting impact on the series or the franchise in any real way at all. But, to paraphrase Fake Spock of the Abramsverse (or the newly rechristened 'Kelvin Timeline'), 'whatever our lives would have been, they are now irrevocably altered. If only we hadn't diverted when we met that comet…' Because the value lies in an exploration of 'what would it be like if…' which makes much more sense for an individual episode, or two-parter than it does for an entire (and the only current), Trek film series to cover, and rather than being about getting brand recognition to make the most box office possible, this story has a genuine creative reason for existing. Even if it only does so for a couple of episodes (give or take a third, if you want to count 'Before and After'). This is why such examinations can be so fascinating, because in a weekly TV series it's good to shake the status quo up occasionally, even at the risk of proceedings appearing to be for naught in the long run. Think of it as a short story, an alternative history of how Captain Janeway and her intrepid crew would react if they were constantly on the run with a permanently scarred, battle-damaged vessel, housing only the last core remnants of that crew.

After the majority of the crew exited via escape pods at the end of Part I, it affords full focus on the command crew, those which the series is really all about anyway. And the pressure has taken its toll, not just on a blinded Tuvok, but on all of them, including the Captain. Especially the Captain! Janeway is at her stubborn, single-mindedly determined best, and it's only a shame that her survival ire is directed against an impassive, dispassionate foe, both in terms of Annorax, the man pulling the strings of fate, and Time itself, whom he has anthropomorphised over his two centuries of meddling to a moody beast that has its whims, its punishments, and refuses to let itself be fully governed by the firm hand of the Krenim weapon ship's leader. Janeway really needs someone aggressive and violent to face up against, but too often it's been uncaring, unemotional enemies that caused her greatest frustration - the Borg, for example, or the macrovirus. The last is apt, as it was the first time we saw her strip down to a vest and go hunting. From that we learnt that when Janeway goes to vest uniform you know things are bad! It's a visual representation that the gloves are off, no punches will be pulled, no temporal directive will stand in her unwavering personal battle to practically physically hold everything and everyone together by iron force of will alone. It's the kind of vision of this Captain that reminds us of the steel beneath her skin, like some kind of Terminator she'll never give in, even at the risk of everything around her imploding, bent on her goal, like some ancient Greek goddess, striving even beyond her strength.

A bit poetic, I know, but the episode is like some kind of Greek tragedy transported into the 24th Century realm of technology and space. We have downed heroes (Tuvok, bravely battling on with his impairment), allies (Seven, devotedly assisting Tuvok in his daily tasks or movement about the obstacle-ridden decks), thinkers (Chakotay, a touch of Stockholm syndrome perhaps), and simple, goodnatured dependables (Neelix, who else?). But the biggest change is in rebellious or insubordinate attitudes being squeezed out in the crucible of unchanging danger and constant weariness. Paris is all for provoking a mutiny among the dissatisfied Krenim crew that have grown tired of Annorax' measured leadership, tempered by obsessional, rigorous determination to continue until all is as it was when he first used the weapon. Chakotay comes around to the man's mental stamina, the steadfastness that could equally be applied to Janeway, but in a different way. Annorax has the bearing of a Captain, the wise outlook, and an unflinching, unending task before him of finding the exact formula of events that will return everything to its rightful sequence, and restore his beloved wife. He's like a gambler caught within a net of gambling, but with the power to continue indefinitely, first altering this variable, then changing that input, often winning big, but doomed never to score the jackpot, playing interminable odds that constantly shift with each new attempt to control them, a game that is impossible for mere mortals to win.

It's fully in Chakotay's character to seek alternative solutions, not to be bound unto death to make things one myopic way they should be, in the manner of both Janeway and Annorax. While Janeway's obsession is getting Voyager home, Chakotay has always been more open to whatever their best chance of survival is. It's one of the most fascinating things about the pairing of this particular Captain and First Officer - while all such double-acts of command in the various series have had a challenging of either side's views (the purpose of a First Officer is to present the Captain with options, after all), Janeway is so focused on her main goal that she refuses anything less than the perfect achievement of it, exactly mirroring Annorax, and will do whatever it takes, whether that means abandoning her principles, making whatever sacrifices, even exchanging herself for that prize. Chakotay's always been a man of peace, despite taking up arms against the Cardassians. He's not afraid to fight when it's right to do so, but he prefers peaceful solutions, in some ways he's the perfect foil for Janeway, in others he's the worst First Officer a Captain of her style and attitude needs to rein her in. Imagine how things would have played out if Riker had been Janeway's Number One. Or Kira (violence might have ensued, or at least a bitter parting). Or even Spock - we get a sense of what that would have been like from Tuvok. Here, he's clearly realised the best chance of survival for the crew is to blindly (literally), follow her rule, instructing Seven that the Captain is always right. A far cry from his usual persona of stolid guidance and advisement of his friend and Captain.

That was Chakotay's issue, he was satisfied with having what he could get, rather becoming an obsessed, driven leader like Janeway - if only he could have been tougher with her, she might have learned better balance. But as we see over the course of the series, her strength, while it gave the crew the portion to continue against ridiculous odds, also showed some mental difficulties. Maybe that's what was required, but she was dangerously willing to make a gamble. Not the precise, specific tweaking of Annorax, but a messy, all in, free-for-all charged on gut instinct as we see when she finally decides to ram home her message by crashing the crumbling remains of Voyager into the weapon ship. It was the biggest 'might' in history when she suggests that all of history might be restored if the ship is destroyed. At that stage I suppose there was no alternative, she'd gone as far as she could and only destruction remained, her stiff-necked refusal to give up all control meant that she would try something that could have simply ended all their lives where Chakotay might have been amenable to settle down on some planet rather than risk nonexistence. She's not the same Captain the Kazon were able to trick into taking away Voyager from her, and maybe much of her survival instinct and predatory inability to lease control to another force stems from that incident? If it was this Janeway she'd have ordered her crew to fight to the death and personally gone on a rampage, phaser rifle in hand, rather than give up her means of getting her crew home. She would almost be the type to destroy all she had to get what she needed.

It's not entirely fair to compare the Janeway of this episode to that of the series. We're seeing an alternate history play out, a year that was never experienced by 'our' Janeway, and we're seeing just how far she can be pushed. And despite her questionable attitude of unbreakable stubbornness, she remains a heroic figure: she bravely enters deflector control, steels herself to the unavoidable pain and is badly burned saving the ship, which itself has become an extension of her: its skin, the hull, is also pitted and rutted, peeling away, and it's like the Captain and her vessel are become one. Which is why when she makes her decision to try and wipe the Krenim vessel out with Voyager, sacrificing herself in the process, you feel like all that is holding the shattered husk together is her unbending will. It's telling of her charisma and aura of authority that she is able, even with such a broken, punished ship, to forge an alliance out of nowhere, so it's a mini armada of five ships that takes on the weapon, distracting the Krenim from the only one that really matters (surely all they needed to do was stay out of the cumbersome temporal weapon's line of fire, but the idiot aliens fly right into its path, although shortly after, the Krenim do use conventional weaponry as well, so it was a losing proposition with any tactics) - I liked the designs of the Nihydron and Mawasi ships, and it's a shame we never got to see what the aliens themselves look like, but it reaffirms the established single-mindedness of Janeway, that it is her will and hers alone that matters. So bent on her target she doesn't even see her allies, so we don't either. I can see why they'd keep them faceless, without contact as it would distract from the purity of Janeway's endeavour. They became irrelevant as soon as they agreed to her alliance, just pieces of her plan.

There's a kind of callousness in Janeway that means all else is futile and unimportant beyond what she must do, and it's brought out to the max thanks to her year of suffering. Her strength and power comes from an inability to give in, something that's sometimes necessary, and she'd rather die than melt into a new life, where Chakotay is more malleable, and therefore probably more destined to have a healthier, happier life. But I'm sure Janeway would accept the burden of whatever hardship or sacrifice she must endure or relinquish, like a true hero she has an implacable vision. Maybe she should become head of Starfleet? No threat would be too big for her to overcome, she just has that uncompromising nature about her, though it can be self-destructive, the other rebelliousness of the episode coming from Janeway herself. Paris' mutinous ideas are shot down by Chakotay, who suggests that he either follows the command structure or they do it the old-fashioned way - you almost want him to say the Maquis way, as that's the ominous threat he's making, that if violence is required to ensure discipline, then that's what will be meted out. Chakotay isn't soft, he's tough, he just prefers the civilised alternative, but he's had plenty of experience of rough justice, and in the beginning he seemed a little more of a fighter, though fitting neatly by Janeway's side. She might have become harder-edged earlier if he'd shown more belligerence, but the inverse happened, he was happy to fade into the background and take Janeway's lead, and perhaps she took a greater hold than she should, which is why Chakotay had to face up against her sometimes, to varying degrees, depending on how strongly he felt about it.

It's not he that opposes her this time, it's the Doctor. It's always a great moment when the Chief Medical Officer of a Trek series has to make the big call and officially sanction the main character, the big hero, the Captain! They're the only character that can make that determination, and I'm surprised it's never been abused by some alien possession or something (in the rare cases of it happening I can't think of any time when it's been anything other than aboveboard). Just as the Captain's been pushed beyond what would normally be expected, so has the crew. The Doctor at first holds his counsel, not pulling rank on Janeway when she refuses lung treatment after taking in too much gas from a nebula they're hiding in (this might be the first time we see the breathing masks on the series, perhaps deemed required equipment after the incident in 'Parturition' when Neelix and Tom were forced to shelter in a cave from noxious planetary gases). I thought at the time that he merely thought it was a lost cause to try and halt Janeway at that stage, just as Tuvok, with his choice to follow her whatever happened - that any opposition would only make her task harder, and division would be unhealthy as she was the backbone of their survival. In fact, the Doctor was merely being tested, and his resolve finally drives him, later in the episode, to do the unthinkable and relieve her of command. Even then, she refuses to comply, and with no crew to back up his determination the Doctor's orders fall on deaf ears. I'd love to have seen what the other crewmembers would have done had they been privy to the conversation - would there have been a civil war, splitting the Janeway and Doctor camps? As she said, she'd be willing to face a general court martial if they ever got home, showing that, despite everything, she hadn't completely lost all sight of her position and what she stood for, it's just that it was irrelevant at that time, survival the only thing that mattered. Like the 'might,' it was a very big 'if.'

While Janeway faces opposition on Voyager, Chakotay has come to appreciate Annorax for the genius he is. He recognises that, like himself, the Krenim appreciates dignity and restraint. Why did he wait two months before inviting the two Voyager prisoners for an audience? Because he's a very patient and meticulous man, never in a rush (or rarely), and when he's had two whole centuries in which to consider and plan, two months must feel like no time at all, just as when you get older time appears to go past at an ever increasing rate as you get so familiar with its passing. He invites his guests to a banquet of erasion - he dines well, but it's a blood meal, eating and drinking the last remnants of now deleted races, genocide has become nothing more than a thought experiment to ponder, because if they were made never to exist in the first place, then there is no sin, surely? That's the rationale he's come to accept, his moral compass no longer functioning as a master of all time, nothing and no one has any real meaning (just as Obrist talks of realising that it was fruitless to honour the birthdays of the dead or those that never existed, he and the rest of the crew trapped in a bubble of unreality, well past the date of their own lifespan and that of their families), a single species now insignificant except as a thread to pull and see what happens. I felt Chakotay and Paris should have immediately been offended and refused to participate in the meal, the full horror apparent, but Chakotay prefers discourse to silence, an attempt at understanding and common ground than instant opposition.

Annorax sees a common spirit between them, both in a tenacious struggle to reach home, and as someone he can tutor in the fine art of altering history in tiny ways to make huge impact. Annorax has come to see his ship as not just a weapon, but a museum of lost histories, the last existence of so many races, but it's mere bemusement, another thought to idle the time away, to keep his mind active. I can see why a new audience to share with would encourage and interest the man, especially as he's only had his crew to interact with for so many years. In their place they see Paris as an end to their vain toil, and so both prisoners come to be important in the events on that ship, which is integral to the episode's success. Because the important thing is how we see the characters deal with their troubles and challenges - there's a lovely moment when Janeway and Neelix clamber through the remains of Chakotay's smashed quarters and she finds the pocket watch he wanted to give her as a birthday gift. It's a reminder of the characters and places them at the heart of the story. There's also a touching final exchange between Janeway and Tuvok, where they discuss what Voyager itself means, Janeway explaining that it's more than a material construction - just as in Part I when the Doctor eulogises the crew and their exploits, Janeway does the same for her beloved home, considering it (as most people probably do with the ships and station of the Trek series'), as important as a member of the crew. And then its farewell and a foreshadowing of the kind of death she expects to encounter, a prophetic reminder to Torres that a Captain always goes down with her ship.

So much of the story reminds me of my favourite Trek film, 'Generations' - you have the pocket watch, a villain intent on recreating his old life which has slipped through the sands of time, desirous of manipulating the very forces of nature to his success, and a Captain on their own unsalvageable bridge for the last time… It doesn't succeed on the same level as the film, there isn't the weight of an entire series behind it with which to feel the poignancy of the end of things as we knew them, and of course we're only halfway through the series with many more adventures to experience, with the events of these two episodes erased from existence. But that's like many of the great episodes of this series (I think of 'Deadlock,' or 'Course: Oblivion' for just a couple of examples), in a way the whole series is almost unconnected from Trek as a whole, because how likely is it that the Delta Quadrant and its races will return to, to be fleshed out even more? But as an exercise in how far the crew and its ship could be pushed it had gone where none had gone before and showed us what was possible.

I did feel the ending was a little bit throwaway, without as much of the chill of poignancy or poetic satisfaction as some episodes ("I was never really here" - 'Persistence of Vision'), the Krenim ship (the other one, not the weapon), showing up as it had several times before, its commandant advising Voyager to avoid Krenim space (how do they know its boundaries, did he beam over star maps?), but I like the happy ending with the crew back in their rightful places, the bright, clean bridge of Voyager so beautiful after the dingy, dilapidated remains in the other timeline, so reassuringly familiar, and as we like it, not permanently scarred as so much of 'Battlestar Galactica' was. But the best happy ending is for Annorax himself, who is back at work in his home, his wife indulgently leading him away from his work. At the same time I felt a slight sense of uncertainty in how we're supposed to interpret what will happen, from the tone of the music to the way the camera zooms in on the pads cluttering his desk with calculations. It seemed to say that he's abandoned them for now to be with his wife, but will he come back and restart the whole process, the loop impossible to escape? After all, he has no knowledge of the two hundred year existence he endured, and with no actual time 'travel' involved, no one can learn from their mistakes. Perhaps that's the most intriguing thread that's left hanging for us to consider.

****