[7.0/10] Patrick Stewart can act. That is, perhaps, no revelation. But the strongest moment in the series premiere of Star Trek: Picard is simply giving him a moment to emote, to condemn, to express his distress and regret over the state of things. When pushed to explain why he left Starfleet, the fire that fueled The Next Generation is revived, and the ghosts of the utopia it operated in are exercised.
Picard left because of xenophobia, because of isolationism, because of an abandonment of the principals of altruism and mercy and acceptance that buttressed the Federation he knew and believed in. That connection to larger ideas -- of a once noble nation turning its back on those in need out of a fear for what opening one’s doors to the world could invite in, and an architect of that community severing his ties with it when it shrinks from the ideals he so deeply believes in -- not only imbues this story with a real world resonance; it’s pure Trek.
But it’s not enough to offer a man meditating on his legacy and the institutions that devolved on his watch. So we need a mystery box. And we need a terrorist attack from a group of “synths” on Mars that scared the Federation into submission. And we need Romulan refugees resettling in an old Borg cube. And we need Romulan fighters trying to root out and destroy the last of the synths. And we need a mysterious young woman -- half River Tam and half Daisy Johnson -- to seek out Picard’s help to sort it all out.
It’s all...fine. It’s naive to expect a modern day science fiction show to rely on the staid, contemplative tone that The Next Generation thrived on. I don’t mind Dahj kicking ass in a hand-to-hand combat scene that makes Kirk’s karate chops look like childsplay. I don’t mind a wire fu-esque battle between her and a cadre of Romulan attackers that involves dodging phaser fire, leaping grand distances, and gory-ish explosions. Times change, and shows have to change with them, even if it means making allowances for the sort of fireworks that once disappointed fans in Picard’s jump to the big screen.
But what I do mind is how generic so much of the rest of the episode feels. Make no mistake -- it is a tall order to follow-up to one of the most beloved science fiction series of all time, that honors past successes while forging a distinct path for the show at hand. But if you shaved off the serial numbers and took away the easter eggs, this could be any other modern science fiction show, with a look and dialogue and mysteries that suffice but don’t wow.
The best you can say is that in the early going at least, Star Trek: Picard doesn't feel like fanservice. Sure, Picard’s dog is named “Number One,” and he orders earl grey tea, and he has a futuristic safety deposit box full of familiar trinkets. But when the show invokes the past, it does so in service of the story in the here and now.
And yet, that’s both a blessing and a curse. Revealing Dahj as Data’s daughter adds some emotional potency to her pairing with Picard. They make Brent Spiner’s guest appearances in the episode more than a fond reminder of everyone’s favorite android, but as a touchstone for Picard’s close relationship with his former protege. For all the flack Star Trek: Nemesis caught, one of its saving graces was the way it suggested that, flesh and blood or no, Data was Picard’s son, his family. So by making Dahj a sort of granddaughter to Picard through that bond makes her relevant in the early going, when the show has to be economical about establishing its characters and stakes.
But at the same time, that’s part of the problem. Stewart and Isa Briones do their best, but the on screen chemistry isn’t quite there yet, so the results feel more like Star Trek: Picard drafting on the good feelings of old, even if it wants to move in a new direction. Fans of the Next Generation will shudder to hear the name Bruce Maddox, the man who tried to have Data declared property, invoked. Still, it feels a tad cheap to have him missing and potentially responsible for some sort of new-fangled “biological synthetic” that is cloned or replicated or somehow otherwise spawned from Data.
All the while, “Remembrance” has the same, overly glossy look that the rest of modern Trek does. All the while, we get characters giving tearful statements that tidily deposit their backstories, with performances that can’t support the psychological weight the show wants to place on them as well as Stewart can. All the while, we get another damn mystery box, where we’re left to guess who made Dahj and her twin sister, and whether the twin’s new flirty Romulan acquaintance is part of the apparent terrorist group, and what the true motivation of the “synths” who blew up Utopia Planetia was, since the show apparently can’t muster that intrigue while still putting its proverbial cards on the table.
And all the while, we have to cut through clunky scenes that try to establish all of this. Little of it is outright bad. This is a competent production with a stellar lead actor and enough reverence for the source material not to upset too much of it. But when you’re bringing back one of television’s great characters and invoking the legacy of the series that started a new age of Star Trek, I expect better than solid but less-than-inspired adequacy.
None of it quite matches that one moment of personal truth or the real life implications of Picard’s disdain for what the organization he once loved has transformed into. When “Remembrance” deposits him into its adventure, it becomes just another off-the-shelf science fiction series, albeit one that can harness the history and world of The Next Generation, The Original Series, and even the 2009 reboot.
In that one scene, though, Star Trek: Picard gives us a glimpse of the show it could be. “Remembrance” soars when it allows its lead performer to do what he does best and embrace the thematic resonance and introspection that were the hallmarks of his prior series, rather than flash and whodunnits and twisty reveals. Only time will tell whether, with so much narrative throat-clearing and table-setting out of the way, the series sets a course for the better.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2020-01-23T15:14:17Z
[7.0/10] Patrick Stewart can act. That is, perhaps, no revelation. But the strongest moment in the series premiere of Star Trek: Picard is simply giving him a moment to emote, to condemn, to express his distress and regret over the state of things. When pushed to explain why he left Starfleet, the fire that fueled The Next Generation is revived, and the ghosts of the utopia it operated in are exercised.
Picard left because of xenophobia, because of isolationism, because of an abandonment of the principals of altruism and mercy and acceptance that buttressed the Federation he knew and believed in. That connection to larger ideas -- of a once noble nation turning its back on those in need out of a fear for what opening one’s doors to the world could invite in, and an architect of that community severing his ties with it when it shrinks from the ideals he so deeply believes in -- not only imbues this story with a real world resonance; it’s pure Trek.
But it’s not enough to offer a man meditating on his legacy and the institutions that devolved on his watch. So we need a mystery box. And we need a terrorist attack from a group of “synths” on Mars that scared the Federation into submission. And we need Romulan refugees resettling in an old Borg cube. And we need Romulan fighters trying to root out and destroy the last of the synths. And we need a mysterious young woman -- half River Tam and half Daisy Johnson -- to seek out Picard’s help to sort it all out.
It’s all...fine. It’s naive to expect a modern day science fiction show to rely on the staid, contemplative tone that The Next Generation thrived on. I don’t mind Dahj kicking ass in a hand-to-hand combat scene that makes Kirk’s karate chops look like childsplay. I don’t mind a wire fu-esque battle between her and a cadre of Romulan attackers that involves dodging phaser fire, leaping grand distances, and gory-ish explosions. Times change, and shows have to change with them, even if it means making allowances for the sort of fireworks that once disappointed fans in Picard’s jump to the big screen.
But what I do mind is how generic so much of the rest of the episode feels. Make no mistake -- it is a tall order to follow-up to one of the most beloved science fiction series of all time, that honors past successes while forging a distinct path for the show at hand. But if you shaved off the serial numbers and took away the easter eggs, this could be any other modern science fiction show, with a look and dialogue and mysteries that suffice but don’t wow.
The best you can say is that in the early going at least, Star Trek: Picard doesn't feel like fanservice. Sure, Picard’s dog is named “Number One,” and he orders earl grey tea, and he has a futuristic safety deposit box full of familiar trinkets. But when the show invokes the past, it does so in service of the story in the here and now.
And yet, that’s both a blessing and a curse. Revealing Dahj as Data’s daughter adds some emotional potency to her pairing with Picard. They make Brent Spiner’s guest appearances in the episode more than a fond reminder of everyone’s favorite android, but as a touchstone for Picard’s close relationship with his former protege. For all the flack Star Trek: Nemesis caught, one of its saving graces was the way it suggested that, flesh and blood or no, Data was Picard’s son, his family. So by making Dahj a sort of granddaughter to Picard through that bond makes her relevant in the early going, when the show has to be economical about establishing its characters and stakes.
But at the same time, that’s part of the problem. Stewart and Isa Briones do their best, but the on screen chemistry isn’t quite there yet, so the results feel more like Star Trek: Picard drafting on the good feelings of old, even if it wants to move in a new direction. Fans of the Next Generation will shudder to hear the name Bruce Maddox, the man who tried to have Data declared property, invoked. Still, it feels a tad cheap to have him missing and potentially responsible for some sort of new-fangled “biological synthetic” that is cloned or replicated or somehow otherwise spawned from Data.
All the while, “Remembrance” has the same, overly glossy look that the rest of modern Trek does. All the while, we get characters giving tearful statements that tidily deposit their backstories, with performances that can’t support the psychological weight the show wants to place on them as well as Stewart can. All the while, we get another damn mystery box, where we’re left to guess who made Dahj and her twin sister, and whether the twin’s new flirty Romulan acquaintance is part of the apparent terrorist group, and what the true motivation of the “synths” who blew up Utopia Planetia was, since the show apparently can’t muster that intrigue while still putting its proverbial cards on the table.
And all the while, we have to cut through clunky scenes that try to establish all of this. Little of it is outright bad. This is a competent production with a stellar lead actor and enough reverence for the source material not to upset too much of it. But when you’re bringing back one of television’s great characters and invoking the legacy of the series that started a new age of Star Trek, I expect better than solid but less-than-inspired adequacy.
None of it quite matches that one moment of personal truth or the real life implications of Picard’s disdain for what the organization he once loved has transformed into. When “Remembrance” deposits him into its adventure, it becomes just another off-the-shelf science fiction series, albeit one that can harness the history and world of The Next Generation, The Original Series, and even the 2009 reboot.
In that one scene, though, Star Trek: Picard gives us a glimpse of the show it could be. “Remembrance” soars when it allows its lead performer to do what he does best and embrace the thematic resonance and introspection that were the hallmarks of his prior series, rather than flash and whodunnits and twisty reveals. Only time will tell whether, with so much narrative throat-clearing and table-setting out of the way, the series sets a course for the better.