7x19 Genesis

[2.4/10] The makeup and prosthetics work on Star Trek: The Next Generation is often so good that it’s invisible. I never stop and think that Worf is a regular dude with a forehead appliance, or that Data is a normal man whose skin’s painted pale. I simply accept them as part of this world. Maybe it’s a product of my being socialized into this characters as a child, but I think it’s true for most of 1990s Trek, from Quark to Neelix to Dr. Phlox. Sure, now and then we get some unconvincing old age makeup or a strange design that makes it stand out for the worse. But for the most part, there’s a seamlessness to the good work which can make us take it for granted.

So I can understand wanting to craft an episode that leans into the excellent work Westmore and company do. “Genesis” is a creature feature, where most of the cast is transformed into animalistic humanoid beasts. It’s an opportunity for the makeup and effects teams to show off, go wild with their talents and show our heroes like we’ve never seen them before.

It’s also deeply, profoundly stupid. Worse yet, it’s boring and interminable. “What if the crew of the Enterprise all reverted to a beastial state” is an absurd premise to begin with. But at the very least, it should have been the entertaining sort of car crash that entertains scavengers like yours truly rather than a plodding mess unfit for even ironic consumption.

The idea is simple, if poorly applied. In a fit of hypochondria, Barclay convinces Dr. Crusher to give him a treatment for an old form of flu. The treatment revives some dormant T-cells within his body that, when combined with the old flu, create an airborne “intron” virus that gradually reverts the crew to a primordial state.

Most underwhelming TNG episodes are good ideas done poorly. But I don’t know where even good execution would go with this story. I’m sure you could turn it into some commentary on man’s primal urges or something, but the silliness of the conceit makes it hard to wring much in the way of drama or poignance.

Worse yet, the way “Genesis” tries to apply it doesn’t pass the most generous of smell tests. Riker turns into some kind of australopithecus. Sure, why not? Worf becomes some poison-spewing beast. I guess so? We don’t know much about Klingon evolution. But why does Nurse Ogawa turn into a different kind of primate ancestor? Why does half-human Troi transform into a frog lady? Why does Barclay become some sort of bizarre spider creature? Why does Data think Picard will turn into a lemur? Why in god’s name does Spot turn into a freaking Lemur?

I don’t ask much from the “science” of Star Trek. A whiff of plausibility is all I need to go along for the ride. But the different ways this virus affects the Enterprise crew are utterly ludicrous.

Even if you can forgive the science, the mental impact of the virus on the officers isn’t the least bit interesting. The meat of “Genesis” should come in how the pull toward the primal affects the normally surefooted bridge crew, but the way the show dramatizes the changes are broad and boring. Worf is grumpy and horny. Troi is chilly and wants salt. (Look out Dr. McCoy!) Barclay is energetic. Geordi is sleepy. Riker is forgetful. Picard is afraid. These new attributes are as basic and dull as possible, so there’s nothing to hold your attention while the crewmembers are ostensibly trying to hold onto their humanity.

There’s also no urgency, and no sense of danger. “Genesis” does make a couple of smart choices. Finding an excuse for Picard and Data to be off the ship provides a reason for them to return unaffected and discover the disturbing changes gradually. The opening scene also establishes that both Nurse Ogawa and Spot are pregnant, with attendant immune system protections which provide the source of the cure. And yet, there’s no real danger here. Sure, it’s bad that everyone’s in shabby or shaggy shape, but there’s no need to rush to a solution rather than call for help, especially since Data’s in no danger.

Instead, “Genesis” soon turns into a monster movie. The danger is cro-magnon Riker or arachnid Barclay (Barachnid?) or beastly Worf physically attacking our heroes, and the inability for phasers and force fields to solve that particular problem is a head-scratcher. The episode does muster one good jump scare (Barclay’s emergence), and create some suspense with prial Worf banging down the door to sick bay, but it’s never quite as frightening or immediate as it needs to be for the episode to work.

Much of it comes down to the fact that a great deal of this looks and feels too silly to resonate. In some places, the transformations are good. The primate creature used to represent Nurse Ogawa slides comfortably into the uncanny valley, in a good way. The brevity of Barclay’s arachnid appearance elides the goofiness of the design and makes it creepy, and the show’s smart enough to mainly shroud the animalistic Worf in darkness. But the primitive versions of Troi and Riker look utterly ridiculous. Picard’s lemur-like fear is comically over the top. And Worf’s galloping movements and electrified paroxysms don’t have the faintest resemblance to real life.

So much of this episode is people wandering around, doing dull things, and having lifeless conversations. The least “Genesis” could do is deliver when the pulse is supposed to quicken and the danger’s supposed to be heightened. Instead, its reveals and confrontations are unconvincing at best and comical at worst.

The writing dooms “Genesis” from the start. Such a rudderless episode built around an idiotic concept had a deep hole to climb out of from the beginning. Westmore and company’s prosthetics should have been the silver lining, the part that makes this one good on craft if not on plot. Instead, it’s another demerit, something that makes it harder to take this premise seriously, not easy. It’s a smart call to put the show’s talented make-up and effects teams front and center. But they need good material to work with, and results that inspire awe rather than chuckles, when we see the seams.