2x02 Where Silence Has Lease

[6.9/10] Seventy percent of this episode is the kind of storytelling you can only get in Star Trek. It epitomizes the show’s scientific problem-solving bent. Here is a weird phenomenon in the vast reaches of space. Let’s examine it. When it envelops us, let’s test its limits incrementally. When that doesn’t work, let’s theorize and hypothesize and figure out what other possible options we may have. There’s no real antagonist, no urgency even, just a thorny and almost unknowable problem to have to solve.

And then, in the last thirty percent of the episode, “Where Silence Has Lease” falls off a cliff. Yet another humanity-testing demigod arrives, to pontificate to our heroes, fail to understand our mortal ways, and eventually declares us barbarians who nevertheless have potential. It’s a well that The Original Series went to time and again, and which The Next Generation has already done much better via Q and other beings.

That’s what’s so interesting about “Where Silence Has Lease.” That later development doesn’t just weaken the episode’s ending, it retroactively casts a pall over the cool sense of mystery the episode had built up to that point. When the Enterprise first approaches an impossibly dark void in space, it defies their understanding of spatial phenomenon. It has no mass, no energy, nothing that registers on their instruments, but it plainly exists and, for that matter, gobbles up probes like they’re skittles.

The apparent presence of some intelligence, albeit one initially undetectable by Counselor Troi, only complicates matters further. Whatever this void is, it has the power to make ships appear and disappear seemingly at will. When Riker and Worf beam over to what they think is their sister ship, the U.S.S. Yamata, its geography makes no sense. Walking through one door on the bridge just leads them to the entrance on the opposite side.

There’s something unnerving about all of this, magnified by the uncertainty of our usually unflappable space geniuses as to what’s really happening, as well as the inscrutability of who or what is doing this to them. The notion of unknowable forces, swallowing you up in a realm that doesn’t play by the normal rules of time and space, forcing you to adapt, is not only a compelling one, but an appropriately scary one. As Riker himself notes, for all this ship’s advanced technology, it’s not enough to allow them to escape or even make sense of this incomprehensible place and the nudges -- some gentle, some not so gentle -- it gives the crew of the Enterprise.

But the second we see a ridiculous looking void monkey appear on the screen and speak directly to our heroes, all of the mystery goes out the window. Dr. Pulaski realizing that they’re being tested, like rats in a maze, makes for a unique setup and challenge. Having the “Nagilum” announce its tests shortly before performing them is obvious and tired. The most frustrating part of this one is how the episode squanders so much of a great build and eerie atmosphere in favor of the same resolution Star Trek’s done umpteen times by now.

And look, it’s churlish to complain about special effects from thirty years ago, but it’s worth noting that the presence and impact of your nigh-omnipotent higher being is all but neutered when it appears as a chimp face on a green screen background and speaks in the same booming stentorian voice that every god-like being seems to have in the Enterprise’s various “as flies to wanton boys” adventures. It’s hard to represent unknowable things in a visual way and not dampen the intimidation factor to begin with, but the Nagilum’s appearance turns the tenor of the episode from ominous to silly.

That’s a shame because I love the slow-boiling sense of exploration and investigation to this one. There’s such a steady progression to each choice Picard and company make. They’re tentative with the void to begin with, sending probes until they’re accidentally swallowed by it. From there, they try examining it with sensors and magnification, to no avail. Their inability to escape it or find their bearings results in a clever plan to use a stationary buoy to orient themselves. And when that fails, they soon realize that they’re being tested, if not outright screwed with, when being teased by friendly or fearsome ships, disappearing exits, and other bits of confusion and temptation meant to test their temperaments and resolve.

It’s particularly spooky when Riker and Worf beam over to their sister ship, where nothing is quite right. It’s a clever way to use the same set as always, while giving it a sinister bent, another detail that makes this episode feel of a piece with “The Tholian Web” from TOS. But it also follows up on Worf and Riker’s holodeck monster mash in the episode’s cold open, showing the two of them as allies in challenging situations and exhibiting Worf’s warrior impulses that have to be tamped down in his guise as a Starfleet officer. There’s a sense of “What the hell is going on here?” that exudes the duo’s brief escapade.

But from there, it’s just the usual game of “What is man?” from another callous and condescending demigod, and one who’s not nearly as entertaining as Q for that matter. The crew’s conversation with Neglium is standard issue, as are its shows of force (although Haskell’s death spasm is scene-chewingly delightful). We’ve done this so many times already, and there’s no real twist or wrinkle to an all-powerful being wanting to examine humanity here.

Picard decides that the solution to this “test” -- which will involve Nagilum killing half of the crew in myriad ways -- is to initiate the ship’s autodestruct. Now we know that won’t happen, given that there’s several more seasons to go, but you can still wring some tension from the situation if you create compelling emotional reactions from the characters. Instead, everyone on the Enterprise spends their last twenty minutes on this mortal coil acting like it’s another boring Tuesday. There’s no emotion or excitement to the resolution, just another pair of generic Picard speeches about humanity and mortality.

Infinity diversity in infinite combinations -- that’s one of those foundational mantras in Star Trek. Exploring new phenomena, meeting new forms of intelligence, seeking out the endless mysteries of the galaxy and having to methodically think your way through them is the core of what this franchise is about. That’s why it’s so disappointing to see such an unnerving, deliberately paced exploration to the unknown end with just one more demigod clash and the same song and dance TNG and its predecessor have done many times before and will do several times again.