[8.4/10] It’s fun to imagine yourself in the Star Trek universe. Most of us picture ourselves as captains or chief engineers or head science officers. The stories focus on the senior staff, leading the charge and standing out as Starfleet’s best and brightest. But the truth is, statistically, most of us would be ensigns and other regular crewmembers (if we could make it into the academy at all). We don’t often get the stories of those folks on the Federation flagship. More often than not, they’re one-line props or cannon fodder for the villain of the week.
That’s what makes “Lower Decks” so refreshing. Like many shows at the end of their runs, The Next Generation was clearly running out of gas at this point. That means the writers can resort to cheap tricks, like a preponderance of surprise family members. But it can also mean they get experimental. Devoting an entire episode to the unseen folks, not privy to the life-changing decisions and calls in the heat of battle the big-timers are, is the kind of chance I wish more shows took.
It pays off so well here. The opening scene says it all. There are Riker and Troi, characters who’d be the standard bearers for this era of Trek for decades to come. They sit at one end of Ten Forward and work their way through crew evaluations. But at the other end sits a gaggle of ensigns, wondering who’ll be recommended for promotions, joking with their own shorthand and dynamic wholly apart from the one shared by Picard and his colleagues, worrying about who in the senior staff likes or hates them.
What makes this so interesting, even revelatory, for TNG is that it’s a side of the Enterprise we almost never see. The simple notion that, even if we don’t always hear the conversations of the more junior officers, even if they don’t get to make galaxy-changing decisions awash in the latest interstellar phenomena, they have concerns, connections, and lives every bit as rich and rewarding as the senior officers we do spend time with.
It makes the world of The Next Generation, and Star Trek more generally, feel more lived in. If you watch enough TNG, you start to recognize the same extras brought back again and again, despite never getting to do much. (Though Ensign Gates actually got a line in the last episode!) That’s a television necessity, especially in 1994. There’s only so much in the budget for actors, and so much real estate for character development, so most of each goes to your main cast. But with a single episode, “Lower Decks” gestures toward a broader ecosystem on the Federation flagship, one that’s present and worthwhile, even if the camera doesn’t always point to that end of Ten Forward.
Sitting at the other table are a couple of familiar faces. Nurse Ogawa has been a fixture in sick bay for seasons now. Ensign Sito was one of the Academy cadets who colluded with Wesley Crusher and Nicholas Locarno. But we also have a trio of new personalities on the scene: Ensign Lavelle, an anxious, promotion-minded young officer; Taurik, a Vulcan officer who’s a tad overzealous in his initiative; and Ben, the civilian waiter in Ten Forward who’s made friends this youthful cohort.
There’s a good mix there, enough to where, had things gone differently, I’d absolutely watch a show featuring this quintet as the core. Their back-and-forth, tensions, and ability to both support and needle one another feels lived in. That tack bolsters the sense that this sort of dynamic started before this episode began, and will continue even after the focus shifts back to the main characters.
The star, though, is Sito. She and Levelle are up for the same promotion to Ops. While the shine seems to be on Sito, with chances to excel from Riker and encouragement from her commanding officer, Worf. The tension of her wanting to succeed but feeling a certain awkwardness if it comes at the expense of her friend is compelling. Her wariness of whether she deserves this consideration but being cheered on by her mentor is relatable. And the roadblocks she runs into in the process make you feel the struggle of someone lower in rank who’s left in the dark.
It’s one of the best parts of “Lower Decks”. Since we’re used to following the senior staff, we’re used to knowing what’s going on, even with top secret missions. Following the ensigns lets us know what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. We get to watch them wring their hands and worry about whether they’re in favor or on the outs with their commanders. We feel their same urge to be in the know when the grown-ups have secret plans or other confidential goings on that the junior officers aren't privy to. And we feel the awkwardness when Ogawa and Taurik have learned pieces of the puzzle in their roles, but can’t share the news with their inquisitive friend because they’ve been sworn to secrecy. It’s unfamiliar territory for TNG, but in a welcome way that broadens our perspective as viewers.
The biggest roadblock for Sito, though, is Captain Picard himself. He orders her into the ready room and dresses her down for her role in the events of “The First Duty”. It seems almost cruel from Jean-Luc, who was angry but ultimately forgiving of Wesley’s transgressions in the same episode, and yet now seemingly ready to punish one of his surrogate son’s classmates harshly for the same crime. It rattles Sito, who explains how she pushed through the adversity and ostracism her public misdeeds created, and became a better person on the other end of them, only for it to fall on deaf ears with the captain.
Hers is the most striking challenge of any of the Lower Deckers we meet here, and she gets the most screen time, but all of them are interesting in their own way. The biggest waste is probably Nurse Ogawa. We learn that she has a friendly relationship with Dr. Crusher and does a superb enough job that it’s earned her a promotion. But the bulk of her plot in this one centers on whether her unseen beau may be cheating on her, when in reality he’s ready to propose. The subplot’s too undercooked to be meaningful, and doesn’t really work as the mild comic relief it’s seemingly intended to be. Ogawa’s presence is still welcome, but as the most consistent character from TNG’s back catalogue, she gets the shortest shrift for some reason.
In the same vein, Taurik is one of the more entertaining characters in “Lower Decks”. He plays like a forerunner to T’Pol, in his mild sense of superiority mixed with wry bemusement (in contrast to the more matter-of-fact Spock), and I enjoy his reactions to superstitions and obliviousness to some social graces. But his shtick here covers similar territory as Mendon the Benzite in “A Matter of Honor”. Taurik oversteps his bounds by making too many suggestions for improvement to Geordi; he frets about it for a bit, but ultimately gets an attaboy from his commander and his interest rewarded. It’s simple, but still effective, even if it doesn’t cover much new territory.
It does connect to one of the larger themes of the episode -- the lack of understanding between lower decks and upper decks. Taurik worries that Geordi might have taken his suggestions the wrong way, only to have the chief engineer call on him to help with a project down the line. The junior officers wonder what their superiors really think of them, and the senior officers wonder what their subordinates are up to. Each worries about the other, albeit in different ways, despite the fact that their conversations mirror each other.
It’s why my favorite sequence in the episode is the poker games in stereo that take place in the middle of the episode. The Lower Deckers worry about relationships and promotions, rib each other, and give each other counsel and support. The same thing happens with the senior staff’s usual poker game. The cuts between them show how similar these two groups are, in their dynamic with each other and their mutual fretting and playfulness, even as they’re separated by rank.
It’s also why my favorite character in all of this is Ben. As a civilian, he’s the only one not bothered by the differences in rank and privilege. He’s unaffected by the chain of command, and so treats Commander Riker the same way he treats Ensign Lavelle. Ben’s able to bridge the gap between the seniors and juniors in a way no one else in TNG is able to (short of maybe Guinan). His ability to move between both worlds, and help one group understand another, makes him a unique player in all of this.
Ensign Lavelle is a more familiar archetype. He’s the social-climbing young go-getter, who’s a bit overeager to impress and constantly worrying whether his commander has it in for him. He’s the character who provides the most direct inspiration for a character on the Lower Decks series in the form of Brad Boimler, and you can see why Star Trek returned to this sort of personality. We all know, or were, that person at some point, and his fumbling attempts to be friendly with the boss he’s worried hates him is a very human thing, even if it makes you want to bury your face in a pillow sometimes. There’s a universality to the type which makes it easy to relate and return to, to the point that Troi points out to a skeptical Riker that young Will was that type, even though he’s ready to slate Lavelle for the same actions.
Still, Lavelle has tough competition in the promotion department since Sito perseveres through her setbacks. Worf, her erstwhile cheerleader, holds her back after a Klingon tai chi lesson to give her an impossible, unfair test to see if she can join the advanced class. After Sito rejects the test as unfair, Worf tells her that was the point, and that “Perhaps next time you are judged unfairly, it will not take so many bruises for you to protest.”
It’s a great line and a great scene, particularly since it seems Worf’s comments seem to be aimed toward criticism from a skeptical Will Riker rather than Captain Picard’s harsh comments. But Sito takes the point with respect to the latter, speaks to the captain again, and basically tells him “Treat me fairly like any other officer, or let me transfer to another ship and another captain who will.” It takes guts, something Jean-Luc recognizes and appreciates.
Of course, he too was only testing Sito, and it’s the one part of this episode that really gives me pause. The rationale behind the deception is to see if she has the courage to withstand something much tougher, namely a life-risking mission to help a member of the species who’s traditionally been her people’s enemy. But the connection between the two is tenuous, and it’s dishonest in a way that doesn’t really feel like something Picard would do. (Though I guess it’s on brand for Starfleet given Wesley’s psych exam, so you’ve got a fig leaf there.)
At least Jean-Luc tells Sito that he does believe she’d paid her dues and was worthy of consideration, which is why he specifically requested she be a member of his crew. It’s a nice balm after seeing the captain seem harsher and more unforgiving than we’ve ever seen him before.
There’s power in Sito passing these tests. There’s nobility in her choosing to risk her life to help a Cardassian working as a Starfleet operative get back into Cardassian space, for the good of Bajor and the Federation. There’s sweetness when she thanks Worf for his kindness in believing in her and taking her under his wing. She earns this opportunity, showing the kind of courage under difficult circumstances and willingness to sacrifice for the greater good that’s been the mark of the senior officers we’ve followed for six and a half seasons at this point.
Only she pays the price for it. That’s the sad and great thing about an episode like “Lower Decks”, which has the chutzpah to put the spotlight on five mostly-new characters. It means the show can also kill them off without disrupting its week-to-week storytelling. The senior staff gets into life-or-death situations all the time, but the plot armor of an ongoing television series says they always make it out okay. (Give or take a Tasha Yar.)
Sito isn’t so lucky. But it adds a poignance to all of this. We know Sito from her past appearance. We’ve seen what she’s persevered through in the here and now. We know her connections to her friends, the career she’s forged for herself despite difficulties, and the altruism that motivates her to volunteer for the toughest of missions. She makes the ultimate sacrifice for the cause, one that snuffs out a young life with so much promise in it.
It makes it bittersweet when Lavelle receives his promotion. The thing he wanted so much only comes in the wake of losing the friend he was cold to when in competition, but deeply worried for when she disappears. The poetic irony of that isn’t lost on him, or their friends, and casts a pall over what might have been a joyous occasion just a few days prior.
And yet, it also connects those higher and lower on the Enterprise’s totem pole. Worf is in mourning as well, and it takes Ben, the one person who can drift between both sets, to coax him into joining the younger officers in their commiseration. In the end, the distance between high and low is not so great. They all mourn. They all remember someone each cared for. And they all sit at the same table.
Maybe we wouldn’t be captains in the Star Trek universe. Maybe we’d be gregarious servers, or stagnating assistant astrophysics officers, or long-winded holonovel reviewers. But the greatest kindness, and most heartening thought “Lower Decks” leaves us with, is that there’s not so much difference between the ones commanding the ship and the ones who keep it running. They’re all just people who, but for the passage of time, the right bit of support, or a noble mission gone wrong, could find themselves in the same place.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2022-02-11T04:09:29Z
[8.4/10] It’s fun to imagine yourself in the Star Trek universe. Most of us picture ourselves as captains or chief engineers or head science officers. The stories focus on the senior staff, leading the charge and standing out as Starfleet’s best and brightest. But the truth is, statistically, most of us would be ensigns and other regular crewmembers (if we could make it into the academy at all). We don’t often get the stories of those folks on the Federation flagship. More often than not, they’re one-line props or cannon fodder for the villain of the week.
That’s what makes “Lower Decks” so refreshing. Like many shows at the end of their runs, The Next Generation was clearly running out of gas at this point. That means the writers can resort to cheap tricks, like a preponderance of surprise family members. But it can also mean they get experimental. Devoting an entire episode to the unseen folks, not privy to the life-changing decisions and calls in the heat of battle the big-timers are, is the kind of chance I wish more shows took.
It pays off so well here. The opening scene says it all. There are Riker and Troi, characters who’d be the standard bearers for this era of Trek for decades to come. They sit at one end of Ten Forward and work their way through crew evaluations. But at the other end sits a gaggle of ensigns, wondering who’ll be recommended for promotions, joking with their own shorthand and dynamic wholly apart from the one shared by Picard and his colleagues, worrying about who in the senior staff likes or hates them.
What makes this so interesting, even revelatory, for TNG is that it’s a side of the Enterprise we almost never see. The simple notion that, even if we don’t always hear the conversations of the more junior officers, even if they don’t get to make galaxy-changing decisions awash in the latest interstellar phenomena, they have concerns, connections, and lives every bit as rich and rewarding as the senior officers we do spend time with.
It makes the world of The Next Generation, and Star Trek more generally, feel more lived in. If you watch enough TNG, you start to recognize the same extras brought back again and again, despite never getting to do much. (Though Ensign Gates actually got a line in the last episode!) That’s a television necessity, especially in 1994. There’s only so much in the budget for actors, and so much real estate for character development, so most of each goes to your main cast. But with a single episode, “Lower Decks” gestures toward a broader ecosystem on the Federation flagship, one that’s present and worthwhile, even if the camera doesn’t always point to that end of Ten Forward.
Sitting at the other table are a couple of familiar faces. Nurse Ogawa has been a fixture in sick bay for seasons now. Ensign Sito was one of the Academy cadets who colluded with Wesley Crusher and Nicholas Locarno. But we also have a trio of new personalities on the scene: Ensign Lavelle, an anxious, promotion-minded young officer; Taurik, a Vulcan officer who’s a tad overzealous in his initiative; and Ben, the civilian waiter in Ten Forward who’s made friends this youthful cohort.
There’s a good mix there, enough to where, had things gone differently, I’d absolutely watch a show featuring this quintet as the core. Their back-and-forth, tensions, and ability to both support and needle one another feels lived in. That tack bolsters the sense that this sort of dynamic started before this episode began, and will continue even after the focus shifts back to the main characters.
The star, though, is Sito. She and Levelle are up for the same promotion to Ops. While the shine seems to be on Sito, with chances to excel from Riker and encouragement from her commanding officer, Worf. The tension of her wanting to succeed but feeling a certain awkwardness if it comes at the expense of her friend is compelling. Her wariness of whether she deserves this consideration but being cheered on by her mentor is relatable. And the roadblocks she runs into in the process make you feel the struggle of someone lower in rank who’s left in the dark.
It’s one of the best parts of “Lower Decks”. Since we’re used to following the senior staff, we’re used to knowing what’s going on, even with top secret missions. Following the ensigns lets us know what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. We get to watch them wring their hands and worry about whether they’re in favor or on the outs with their commanders. We feel their same urge to be in the know when the grown-ups have secret plans or other confidential goings on that the junior officers aren't privy to. And we feel the awkwardness when Ogawa and Taurik have learned pieces of the puzzle in their roles, but can’t share the news with their inquisitive friend because they’ve been sworn to secrecy. It’s unfamiliar territory for TNG, but in a welcome way that broadens our perspective as viewers.
The biggest roadblock for Sito, though, is Captain Picard himself. He orders her into the ready room and dresses her down for her role in the events of “The First Duty”. It seems almost cruel from Jean-Luc, who was angry but ultimately forgiving of Wesley’s transgressions in the same episode, and yet now seemingly ready to punish one of his surrogate son’s classmates harshly for the same crime. It rattles Sito, who explains how she pushed through the adversity and ostracism her public misdeeds created, and became a better person on the other end of them, only for it to fall on deaf ears with the captain.
Hers is the most striking challenge of any of the Lower Deckers we meet here, and she gets the most screen time, but all of them are interesting in their own way. The biggest waste is probably Nurse Ogawa. We learn that she has a friendly relationship with Dr. Crusher and does a superb enough job that it’s earned her a promotion. But the bulk of her plot in this one centers on whether her unseen beau may be cheating on her, when in reality he’s ready to propose. The subplot’s too undercooked to be meaningful, and doesn’t really work as the mild comic relief it’s seemingly intended to be. Ogawa’s presence is still welcome, but as the most consistent character from TNG’s back catalogue, she gets the shortest shrift for some reason.
In the same vein, Taurik is one of the more entertaining characters in “Lower Decks”. He plays like a forerunner to T’Pol, in his mild sense of superiority mixed with wry bemusement (in contrast to the more matter-of-fact Spock), and I enjoy his reactions to superstitions and obliviousness to some social graces. But his shtick here covers similar territory as Mendon the Benzite in “A Matter of Honor”. Taurik oversteps his bounds by making too many suggestions for improvement to Geordi; he frets about it for a bit, but ultimately gets an attaboy from his commander and his interest rewarded. It’s simple, but still effective, even if it doesn’t cover much new territory.
It does connect to one of the larger themes of the episode -- the lack of understanding between lower decks and upper decks. Taurik worries that Geordi might have taken his suggestions the wrong way, only to have the chief engineer call on him to help with a project down the line. The junior officers wonder what their superiors really think of them, and the senior officers wonder what their subordinates are up to. Each worries about the other, albeit in different ways, despite the fact that their conversations mirror each other.
It’s why my favorite sequence in the episode is the poker games in stereo that take place in the middle of the episode. The Lower Deckers worry about relationships and promotions, rib each other, and give each other counsel and support. The same thing happens with the senior staff’s usual poker game. The cuts between them show how similar these two groups are, in their dynamic with each other and their mutual fretting and playfulness, even as they’re separated by rank.
It’s also why my favorite character in all of this is Ben. As a civilian, he’s the only one not bothered by the differences in rank and privilege. He’s unaffected by the chain of command, and so treats Commander Riker the same way he treats Ensign Lavelle. Ben’s able to bridge the gap between the seniors and juniors in a way no one else in TNG is able to (short of maybe Guinan). His ability to move between both worlds, and help one group understand another, makes him a unique player in all of this.
Ensign Lavelle is a more familiar archetype. He’s the social-climbing young go-getter, who’s a bit overeager to impress and constantly worrying whether his commander has it in for him. He’s the character who provides the most direct inspiration for a character on the Lower Decks series in the form of Brad Boimler, and you can see why Star Trek returned to this sort of personality. We all know, or were, that person at some point, and his fumbling attempts to be friendly with the boss he’s worried hates him is a very human thing, even if it makes you want to bury your face in a pillow sometimes. There’s a universality to the type which makes it easy to relate and return to, to the point that Troi points out to a skeptical Riker that young Will was that type, even though he’s ready to slate Lavelle for the same actions.
Still, Lavelle has tough competition in the promotion department since Sito perseveres through her setbacks. Worf, her erstwhile cheerleader, holds her back after a Klingon tai chi lesson to give her an impossible, unfair test to see if she can join the advanced class. After Sito rejects the test as unfair, Worf tells her that was the point, and that “Perhaps next time you are judged unfairly, it will not take so many bruises for you to protest.”
It’s a great line and a great scene, particularly since it seems Worf’s comments seem to be aimed toward criticism from a skeptical Will Riker rather than Captain Picard’s harsh comments. But Sito takes the point with respect to the latter, speaks to the captain again, and basically tells him “Treat me fairly like any other officer, or let me transfer to another ship and another captain who will.” It takes guts, something Jean-Luc recognizes and appreciates.
Of course, he too was only testing Sito, and it’s the one part of this episode that really gives me pause. The rationale behind the deception is to see if she has the courage to withstand something much tougher, namely a life-risking mission to help a member of the species who’s traditionally been her people’s enemy. But the connection between the two is tenuous, and it’s dishonest in a way that doesn’t really feel like something Picard would do. (Though I guess it’s on brand for Starfleet given Wesley’s psych exam, so you’ve got a fig leaf there.)
At least Jean-Luc tells Sito that he does believe she’d paid her dues and was worthy of consideration, which is why he specifically requested she be a member of his crew. It’s a nice balm after seeing the captain seem harsher and more unforgiving than we’ve ever seen him before.
There’s power in Sito passing these tests. There’s nobility in her choosing to risk her life to help a Cardassian working as a Starfleet operative get back into Cardassian space, for the good of Bajor and the Federation. There’s sweetness when she thanks Worf for his kindness in believing in her and taking her under his wing. She earns this opportunity, showing the kind of courage under difficult circumstances and willingness to sacrifice for the greater good that’s been the mark of the senior officers we’ve followed for six and a half seasons at this point.
Only she pays the price for it. That’s the sad and great thing about an episode like “Lower Decks”, which has the chutzpah to put the spotlight on five mostly-new characters. It means the show can also kill them off without disrupting its week-to-week storytelling. The senior staff gets into life-or-death situations all the time, but the plot armor of an ongoing television series says they always make it out okay. (Give or take a Tasha Yar.)
Sito isn’t so lucky. But it adds a poignance to all of this. We know Sito from her past appearance. We’ve seen what she’s persevered through in the here and now. We know her connections to her friends, the career she’s forged for herself despite difficulties, and the altruism that motivates her to volunteer for the toughest of missions. She makes the ultimate sacrifice for the cause, one that snuffs out a young life with so much promise in it.
It makes it bittersweet when Lavelle receives his promotion. The thing he wanted so much only comes in the wake of losing the friend he was cold to when in competition, but deeply worried for when she disappears. The poetic irony of that isn’t lost on him, or their friends, and casts a pall over what might have been a joyous occasion just a few days prior.
And yet, it also connects those higher and lower on the Enterprise’s totem pole. Worf is in mourning as well, and it takes Ben, the one person who can drift between both sets, to coax him into joining the younger officers in their commiseration. In the end, the distance between high and low is not so great. They all mourn. They all remember someone each cared for. And they all sit at the same table.
Maybe we wouldn’t be captains in the Star Trek universe. Maybe we’d be gregarious servers, or stagnating assistant astrophysics officers, or long-winded holonovel reviewers. But the greatest kindness, and most heartening thought “Lower Decks” leaves us with, is that there’s not so much difference between the ones commanding the ship and the ones who keep it running. They’re all just people who, but for the passage of time, the right bit of support, or a noble mission gone wrong, could find themselves in the same place.