[7.6/10] For the first ten minutes of “Coda”, I assumed we were getting the greatest hits of high concept Star Trek episodes. “Oh no! We’re trapped in a time loop.” “Oh no! I don’t know whether I’m simply hallucinating or if there’s some sort of funky sci-fi explanation.” “Oh no! I’m some kind of ghost who has to make contact with my flesh-and-blood colleagues.” There’s some novelty to stitching them all together, but if you’re a longtime Trekkie, you could be forgiven for walking into this one with a certain sense of “Been there, done that.”
And yet, shortly thereafter, “Coda” pivots to a much more interesting idea. “What if Captain Janeway died?” Who knows how accurate the renditions of the Voyager crew are meant to be, given the alien intervention that comprises the inevitable funky sci-fi explanation. But the chance to see how the rest of the cast would respond if their fearless leader were gone forever is the most potent and moving thing in the episode.
I’m not a big Janeway/Chakotay shipper despite some undeniable chemistry there. But it’s still heartbreaking to see him desperately attempt to give her CPR and then hold her in his arms and grieve when it becomes apparent that she’s gone. The Doctor is, understandably, not the most emotional character, but him going beyond the usual protocol for attempting to revive her, with Kes trying to intervene, is a deft way to show how much he cares. For Kes herself, the attempt to seek psychic connection with the Captain, until she decides that her feeling Janeway’s presence is merely a reflection of her own grief, is similarly sweet and sad at the same time.
I was also taken aback by the kind words the senior staff has for their captain. The understandably unsentimental Tuvok speaking of Janeway pithily but eruditely as a dear friend is touching. Harry Kim reflecting on the wisdom and perspective the captain imparted to him was beautiful. And one the one that struck me the most was B’Elanna’s tribute, a recognition of one of Janeway’s greatest leadership qualities -- her ability to see the greatest potential in the members of her team, even when they themselves may have missed it. For a character who hasn’t had much meaningful interaction with Janeway in a while, Torres hits the nail on the head with a wonderfully-written monologue and a great performance from Roxann Dawson.
Hearing how Captain Janeway touched the lives of her crew, in ways that only come into focus in her absence, is worth the price of admission on its own.
The benefit isn’t just hearing Voyager’s officers offer their remembrances; it’s in seeing Janeway react to them. Kate Mulgrew does outstanding work here, communicating how moved someone would be to hear such beautiful tributes to their life, mixed with the sadness of worrying that you’ll be forever separated from them.
That’s the other big wrinkle to this one. It’s heartening to see Janeway’s pride when, even without her, the senior staff doesn’t give up on trying to find her consciousness, and B’Elanna herself knows just what tests to run. But the broader, bigger “What If?” in the episode is simple but piercing -- what if you had to accept your own death, and the severance from all you know and love that comes with it?
In “Coda”, that question is literal. Janeway is a veritable ghost. A guide from the great beyond is encouraging her to let go and embrace the next phase of existence. In the episode’s canniest choice, a man who appears to be her father comes to shepherd her along, offering the comfort of familiarity and reunion with someone lost, while also gently encouraging her to acquiesce to the inevitability of her afterlife. (And hey, total sidenote, but dear old dad’s gold-piping Starfleet uniform looks terrific.)
But in a broader sense, Voyager is using the abstraction of fiction to explore our attachment to the people and touchstones of our lives, and what it means to us to confront the fact that, if we’re lucky, the people we care about will continue on without us. That’s a powerful idea. Dramatizing it through the usual science fiction mumbo jumbo is a unique way to dig into the emotions of one of the most difficult aspects of human existence to reckon with.
Oh yeah, and then it turns out Janeway’s guide isn’t actually her dad, but rather an alien who inhabits people’s brains and tries to guide them into its “matrix” when they’re near death.
I mean sure, fine, whatever. We all knew this whole death thing wasn’t going to stick. A peculiar alien who might be the partial cause of near-death experiences is as good an explanation as any. I’ll admit that it doesn’t do much for me. But if you’ve watched enough Star Trek, you started to get a bit jaded about the franchise’s semi-standard mind-benders (something like this seemed to happen to Riker every other season) and the inevitable walkback.
Admittedly, there’s something neat about the idea that Janeway fights her way back to the land of the living, driven by the urge to rekindle those bonds that she found so stirring when witnessing them from limbo. And the presence of her quasi-father is a good choice, with a sound performance and the instant sense that this person comes with a plausible authority and familiarity with Janeway, with just enough off about him to make the reveal plausible and Janeway’s ultimate triumph satisfying.
I just don’t know if we needed all the time-loop/phage fakeout/Vidian flashback bric-a-brac to make that happen. The best you can say is that it disorients the audience, much as it disorients Janeway, which puts both protagonist and viewer in the position to be just off-balance enough to believe what this alien is saying.
To that end, with its callbacks to early story elements like the Vidians and Janeway’s connection with B’Elanna, and a script penned by co-creator Jeri Taylor, “Coda” feels like a bit of a final statement on the show’s early years, before the show took a noteworthy shift in the coming episodes. It is a distinctive, truly Trek-y way to pay tribute to the idea that those past adventures mattered, to the audience, to the crew, and to the captain, in a fashion that makes Janeway unwilling to let go of the bonds she’s forged, and the life she’s made in this accidental exile, with everyone aboard her ship.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2023-09-01T21:05:41Z
[7.6/10] For the first ten minutes of “Coda”, I assumed we were getting the greatest hits of high concept Star Trek episodes. “Oh no! We’re trapped in a time loop.” “Oh no! I don’t know whether I’m simply hallucinating or if there’s some sort of funky sci-fi explanation.” “Oh no! I’m some kind of ghost who has to make contact with my flesh-and-blood colleagues.” There’s some novelty to stitching them all together, but if you’re a longtime Trekkie, you could be forgiven for walking into this one with a certain sense of “Been there, done that.”
And yet, shortly thereafter, “Coda” pivots to a much more interesting idea. “What if Captain Janeway died?” Who knows how accurate the renditions of the Voyager crew are meant to be, given the alien intervention that comprises the inevitable funky sci-fi explanation. But the chance to see how the rest of the cast would respond if their fearless leader were gone forever is the most potent and moving thing in the episode.
I’m not a big Janeway/Chakotay shipper despite some undeniable chemistry there. But it’s still heartbreaking to see him desperately attempt to give her CPR and then hold her in his arms and grieve when it becomes apparent that she’s gone. The Doctor is, understandably, not the most emotional character, but him going beyond the usual protocol for attempting to revive her, with Kes trying to intervene, is a deft way to show how much he cares. For Kes herself, the attempt to seek psychic connection with the Captain, until she decides that her feeling Janeway’s presence is merely a reflection of her own grief, is similarly sweet and sad at the same time.
I was also taken aback by the kind words the senior staff has for their captain. The understandably unsentimental Tuvok speaking of Janeway pithily but eruditely as a dear friend is touching. Harry Kim reflecting on the wisdom and perspective the captain imparted to him was beautiful. And one the one that struck me the most was B’Elanna’s tribute, a recognition of one of Janeway’s greatest leadership qualities -- her ability to see the greatest potential in the members of her team, even when they themselves may have missed it. For a character who hasn’t had much meaningful interaction with Janeway in a while, Torres hits the nail on the head with a wonderfully-written monologue and a great performance from Roxann Dawson.
Hearing how Captain Janeway touched the lives of her crew, in ways that only come into focus in her absence, is worth the price of admission on its own.
The benefit isn’t just hearing Voyager’s officers offer their remembrances; it’s in seeing Janeway react to them. Kate Mulgrew does outstanding work here, communicating how moved someone would be to hear such beautiful tributes to their life, mixed with the sadness of worrying that you’ll be forever separated from them.
That’s the other big wrinkle to this one. It’s heartening to see Janeway’s pride when, even without her, the senior staff doesn’t give up on trying to find her consciousness, and B’Elanna herself knows just what tests to run. But the broader, bigger “What If?” in the episode is simple but piercing -- what if you had to accept your own death, and the severance from all you know and love that comes with it?
In “Coda”, that question is literal. Janeway is a veritable ghost. A guide from the great beyond is encouraging her to let go and embrace the next phase of existence. In the episode’s canniest choice, a man who appears to be her father comes to shepherd her along, offering the comfort of familiarity and reunion with someone lost, while also gently encouraging her to acquiesce to the inevitability of her afterlife. (And hey, total sidenote, but dear old dad’s gold-piping Starfleet uniform looks terrific.)
But in a broader sense, Voyager is using the abstraction of fiction to explore our attachment to the people and touchstones of our lives, and what it means to us to confront the fact that, if we’re lucky, the people we care about will continue on without us. That’s a powerful idea. Dramatizing it through the usual science fiction mumbo jumbo is a unique way to dig into the emotions of one of the most difficult aspects of human existence to reckon with.
Oh yeah, and then it turns out Janeway’s guide isn’t actually her dad, but rather an alien who inhabits people’s brains and tries to guide them into its “matrix” when they’re near death.
I mean sure, fine, whatever. We all knew this whole death thing wasn’t going to stick. A peculiar alien who might be the partial cause of near-death experiences is as good an explanation as any. I’ll admit that it doesn’t do much for me. But if you’ve watched enough Star Trek, you started to get a bit jaded about the franchise’s semi-standard mind-benders (something like this seemed to happen to Riker every other season) and the inevitable walkback.
Admittedly, there’s something neat about the idea that Janeway fights her way back to the land of the living, driven by the urge to rekindle those bonds that she found so stirring when witnessing them from limbo. And the presence of her quasi-father is a good choice, with a sound performance and the instant sense that this person comes with a plausible authority and familiarity with Janeway, with just enough off about him to make the reveal plausible and Janeway’s ultimate triumph satisfying.
I just don’t know if we needed all the time-loop/phage fakeout/Vidian flashback bric-a-brac to make that happen. The best you can say is that it disorients the audience, much as it disorients Janeway, which puts both protagonist and viewer in the position to be just off-balance enough to believe what this alien is saying.
To that end, with its callbacks to early story elements like the Vidians and Janeway’s connection with B’Elanna, and a script penned by co-creator Jeri Taylor, “Coda” feels like a bit of a final statement on the show’s early years, before the show took a noteworthy shift in the coming episodes. It is a distinctive, truly Trek-y way to pay tribute to the idea that those past adventures mattered, to the audience, to the crew, and to the captain, in a fashion that makes Janeway unwilling to let go of the bonds she’s forged, and the life she’s made in this accidental exile, with everyone aboard her ship.