On the whole, I really enjoyed this series, even if it ultimately turned left where I was expecting it to turn right. Or, in the show’s terms, it interpolated (putting Lilly and Forest within the system) rather than exterpolated (exploring the idea of reality itself being a simulation from the start). The latter is something that was hinted around the edges in dialogue but never explicitly stated or explored. Are we supposed to think that Forest and Lilly are now living in a simulation but that Katie is controlling it from the “real world”, for example? Because I think Katie’s world, the world of episodes 1-7, is a simulation, too.
I’m also left with a few parts that either feel inadequately explained or felt off, like:
Stewart’s role, and what he meant when he asked “Who is Mark Antony?” last episode.
How did Katie get out of Devs, once the electromagnetic tram fell and she was on the inside? We saw a bridge later, but who put it there? I don’t think Stewart would have.
Pete, the homeless guy/Russian spy, was a Chekhov’s Gun the whole series so I wasn’t surprised that he fired in the last episode, but he certainly took me out of the moment. A spy would live homeless on the street for months, dancing in the park to the music of a busker with nobody watching, just because? That’s some dedicated spycraft right there.
This season has gotten worse and worse. What is the main plot exactly? Because it’s episode 6 and it seems like all episodes feel meandering, pointless, and aimless. The writing is disjointed and nothing is really happening.
Episode 6 is comically bad:
No offense meant here, but I don’t watch Yellowstone for a Jimmy spin off. Will he ever become a cowboy? Because the guy has been ranching for 3 seasons now and still looks like the new guy. I get on my phone during his scenes because it’s just scenic background music with Jimmy looking dumb.
Unpopular take: Beth Dutton gets less and less interesting every episode. Basically everything she says and does now is eyeroll inducing and ridiculous. Her ‘badass-ness’ is tiresome and predictable. Just the writers feeling 'what mean girl line can we come up with this time'. It feels redundant. Her lines to Summer Higgins were a new level of cringe-worthy for this series, wishing any type of cancer on anyone is a bridge too far. And I’m really over her and Jaime. Their scenes basically are: Jamie: “You’re going to destroy me” Beth: _“I’m going to destroy you”. This storyline needs to be resolve immediately.
Summer Higgins is the most stereotypical 'annoying animal activist, vegan girl' ever. It’s just lazy writing because this could have been an interesting and nuanced interaction between these characters who are completely different, but instead her character was built upon a foundation of clichés. And I know they were trying to make her requests seem absurd, but all they did was make John Dutton's chef look dumb. Yes, you can be a cowboy’s chef and still know what gluten is. Any cook who uses flour knows what gluten is.
Will ‘Boy’ ever shower, wash his hair? Because every week I'm like ‘he's still in the same clothes?’ And it seems like Beth completely forgot about him.
Every time I think Jamie is going to do something right, he chokes. He is so weak, it's cringe.
Kill off Monica. Let Kayce be a tragic sexy widower. I give Monica two episodes before she hates their new house, too.
Lloyd vs Walker - Had to fast-forward through that fight. I don’t know why they needed to waste so much screen time on it, so unnecessary. Not to mention how it was possible for Walker to fight like he is Mike Tyson after getting stabbed in the left shoulder the previous night.
Bryan Cranston stars as a judge who confronts his deepest beliefs when his son is involved in an attack that confuses an organized crime family. Faced with a series of impossible choices, he discovers how far a father will go to save his son's life.
I was a little late starting this series, but when I saw Cranston in the lead, I knew it had to be good! This does not disappoint! This show actually has shades of Breakin Bad in that Brian is once again in a position to make up stories on the spot, make up the lies, and get himself and the ones he loves into deeper and deeper nightmare scenes. The tension is palpable and heartbreaking and intense, right from the start ... This show hooks in and won't let go. Powerful renditions here of someone's worst nightmare ... Ordinary people try to cope with an unfathomable situation as best they can, but create an ever-worsening cascade of domino-like events, one of which triggers the other, and so on. The son does a fantastic job and the mafia boss's choice is perfection to play out Cranston's portrayal of a loving and honorable father who is suddenly pushed to the limit and as he tries to protect his son, he becomes the polar opposite of everything. he was dear before. Stellar and absolutely compelling storytelling ...
Overall, funny but offensive in some ways that are important, in others just mean. I also find it frustrating certain things seem to get more public attention than others. But the comments in general about trans people come off as the "crazy racist uncle" trope of yesteryear who Chappelle himself would mock when they'd excuse themselves by parading their one black friend as if it was an excuse.
I won't even attempt to excuse his mean spirited jokes about the trans community. Whilst his friend may have loved them it's still the sort of thing that wounds people enough to drive them to what I hope he doesn't wish on anybody else.
Some jokes didn't land at all for me, the "antisemetic" joke for instance. I don't get what was funny or offensive about it, probably because I just simply don't get what he's referencing, neither did my Jewish husband. Either way it seemed odd and out of place among everything else. It just made no sense to me at all.
All in all, my viewing experience is probably very different to that of someone who is trans. So I can't and don't think anybody other than trans people should be saying whether it's transphobic/offensive or not.
I'm very conflicted about this as I love Chappelle and feel awful about what happened to his friend. But I know that if he were a white man making the same kinds of jokes about a black person I would be upset, too.
The movie is very well made. Everything from the sets to the costumes and the acting is, in typical Ridley Scott matter, flawless.
However the way the story is told is not to my liking. You have about 45-50 mins of content but, due to the multiple perspective way of storytelling, you have to watch it three times. It's a "he said, she said" that in the end isn't proven one way or the other because, let's face it, "God has spoken" and "an honest man can't die" is as stupid as "you can't get pregnant from a rape because if you don't enjoy intercourse you can't get pregnant. That's sience"
And there lies the biggest issue I have - the movie criticizes a whole society for there misogynistic ways but like with the above that was how it was. Women were property just like men could be. Or what do you thing all the folk working for those nobles were ? From our moral point of view this was wrong but pointing a finger back 700 years in time is easy to do.
Well, it's not a political forum here and I think I will attract comments with what I said no matter what.
The actual duel at the end was great, very well filmed, with the instense and brutality you imagine had to be there in a fight for ones honor to the death. But after sitting through more than two hours it wasn't enough to save the movie in my eyes.
On the first season, See presented and explored a post apocalyptic world where the civilization lost their ability to see. This concept opened up many interesting questions, but the series gradually degenerated into derivative storylines with weak writing ("I want to pray"). Nevertheless, I watched all the episodes on the merits of 3 characters: Boba Voss (always charismatic Jason Momoa), Tamacti Jun (bad ass Christian Camargo), and Maghra (beautiful Hera Hilmar) and expertly staged action sequences.
The second season pivots the series to Game of Thrones-style backdrop. Multiple factions and/or characters are vying to unite and rule the civilization: Edo Voss (recasted to Dave Bautista from Guardians of the Galaxy), Queen Kane, Maghra, and Harlan (fantastically played by Adrian Paul).
My favorite scene is the goodbye exchange between Baba and Kofun.
Baba: Kofun. Kofun. My son.
Listen to me.
Your and mother and I...
we raised you to be beautiful, not a warrior.
I don't want you to have to fight the way I had to.
I never imagined a life for you away from the Alkenny.
And I failed to prepare you.
Baba: After a touching farewell, he goes on a Ned Stark-style impossible mission to rescue his daughter Haniwa from his estranged and enemy brother Edo.
Wren: She tells Haniwa that while those who can see are not viewed as witches, Edo and his people will execute them. That begs the question. Edo employees a seeing child to find Baba, reinforcing Wren's discriminated victim arc. I am guessing she will turn to Haniwa's side.
Harlan: A great new addition to replace the best character, Tamacti Jun. He has shades of Little Finger, planting seeds into Maghra to betray Queen Kane (who is probably not as dumb and impulsive as she appears).
P.S. I don't like the new opening theme. Full orchestra score and busy graphics diminish the first season's atmospheric theme which perfectly encapsulated the series.
AAAAHHHHH!
"How did you find me, Kevin?"
"I went through the machine"
CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW EPIC THAT WOULD'VE BEEN?? And it was like the perfect setting, it looked very heavenly, and everyone was at peace and happy, there was a wedding and everyone seemed to have a good time, I was sure that was the afterlife/heaven/the beyond the machine.
I would give every cent I have (which it's not much but it's very worthy to me) to watch Nora's odyssey instead of those 35 minutes of pigeon madness, don't get me wrong, Nora's narration was beautiful and mesmerizing and I do believe her, but still I WANT TO WATCH IT, I'll never known satisfation in life until I get to see it, and I think 35 minutes would've been great to fit that. And it makes sense cause we know Nora went through, how else would we explain she being here? and also if the scientist is there he would be able to build the machine and probably he never thought about building/using it cause being reunited with the person you are missing you don't have that need, but I wonder if those in the 2% can also use the machine to pass through dimensions?
I went in not expecting an explanation of what happened, cause I thought it was a fact that we were never gonna get one, and I was ok w it cause I thought no explanation would be good enough until Nora said "FOR US A FEW OF THEM ARE MISSING, FOR THEM ALL OF US ARE MISSING" WHAT... that was so perfect! better than anything I could've dreamed about, it makes sense and it doesn't use a religious non-sense and I think that also gives a lot of answers to other supernatural stuff that happened, like if science allows for interdimensional travel, it can be that a man has a round ticket to the afterlife, so it was just so satisfying.
And reading all the comments, you guys are right, IT IS A LOVE STORY, it was all about Nora and Kevin letting go of everything other than life and to find each other over and over again, so this is a love story for the ages, but Kevin was so wrong for pretending not to know Nora, it was so trippy!
I'm so glad Laurie is still alive and most importantly LIVING HER LIFE!
I still have a lot of questions and I think this show needed a couple more seasons, it's just amazing, I'm gonna check out the books and blogs to see if any of those can answer my questions. I think my main question is what did maggie's mom was supposed to tell her? was Wayne for real? is Lily a magic baby? What was Kevin's wish? what the fck was going on w Evie? what happened to the kids' shoes? and that's just on the top of my head.
SAME TIME NEXT WEEK?!
Netflix loves to cancel its shows without warning, and it especially loves canceling them after 3 seasons, so I'm about 60% sure this is goodbye. But then again, Sex Education has been a huge hit for them, so I guess we might get a renewal.
If this is the series finale, it's pretty good. Unlike last season, there aren't any major loose ends left. The only storyline that hasn't been resolved is the paternity of baby Joy. Judging by Jean's reaction, it's not good news for Jakob.
As much as I disliked Hope all season, I enjoyed her conversation with Otis. It made her feel a bit more human, even if she is still deeply terrible.
The Groffs had a great storyline. I loved seeing Adam and Michael grow in their own ways. If we do get another season, I hope they explore their relationship a bit more. It's sad that things didn't work out for Adam and Eric, but maybe it's for the best. Eric clearly has some things to work through before he's ready to commit to one person. And seeing Adam discover his talent and passion was lovely. He didn't win, but he still achieved something really impressive all on his own.
I'm glad Aimee knocked some sense into Maeve. Their friendship is genuinely one of the best parts of the show. We didn't get a lot of Otis and Maeve in this episode, but if this is the end of the road, Maeve got a very fitting and satisfying ending. She finally has a family and she's off to do her thing in America. She deserves the world and finally she's getting it. And things with her and Otis are left open ended and hopeful. Even though they can't know if they'll still be right for each other when she returns, they're both willing to give it a shot. That's good enough for me.
I do hope this show comes back. I really do. There's something so quirky and unique about it, the storylines are great and the cast is excellent. It's truly a gem. But I'm keeping my expectations low just in case. Netflix has disappointed me many times before.
WHY WOULD THEY STAY IN THE MOST CHAOTIC AND DAMNED PLACE ON EARTH???
It’s cool to see that Jarden is now open to everyone, don’t get me wrong I hate Jarden and if it were a real place after a departure I would never set foot there, but they couldn’t be all like yeah we let you have a taste of it by visiting or letting you camp in the national park but you can’t truly be in, if the locals were smart they would’ve never try to market their town as Miracle.
I was so mad watching Matt use Mary and their son as a circus attraction, so I’m really glad they are leaving!!! Matt loves being a martyr and to suffer, so a healthy Mary doesn’t fit his agenda, and imagine being like in a coma and you wake up in the most chaotic place ever, probably all you want is to go home.
And for god’s sake, Kevin is no fkcing jesus, he’s a very lucky bastard but not jesus. Matt really is a sick individual who clings onto anything to justify his faith.
And in some twisted way I wanted to see more of Maggie so I’m gonna miss her, I’m sad they gave her so a permanent ending.
I wonder what happens that makes Nora changer her name to Sarah and move to the end of the world.
[8.2/10] Sometimes I worry that my own original thoughts have all been subsumed by pop culture ephemera. I grew up with the television as a persistent comfort. I love stories in all forms. It’s hard for me to make it through a whole conversation without at least thinking about how some moment or exchange or phrase connects to something I know and love from fiction. These are my fables, my myths, my examples for how people interact and work through problems, that help grease the wheels of real life, and at times, threaten to squeeze it out.
I don’t know if I could build a whole language around that, but I bet I could come pretty close. Nowadays, I watch pretty much everything with my wife. More than one person has commented that at times it’s like we’re speaking in a different tongue, given how likely we are to use some character name or quote as shorthand for a broader idea, or just make each other laugh with one reference or another.
“Darmok” takes that basic idea -- the way we communicate and connect through stories -- and magnifies it to a fantastic scale, in the proud Star Trek tradition. The Enterprise encounters a ship from The Children of Tama, a race reputed to be unintelligible. Sure enough, when they open a channel, communication is all but impossible. Without any warning our heroes can comprehend, the Tamarians beam Picard and their own captain down to a nearby planet, deploying a scattering field that prevents Riker from simply beaming his commanding officer right back. The move forces Picard to measure his Tamarian equivalent, and Riker to try to rescue his captain.
Revisiting this episode after so many years, it struck me how much “Darmok” follows the rhythms of The Original Series. Seeing the captain of the Enterprise beamed down to a mysterious planet in a one-on-one confrontation with an opposing leader is bound to give fans “Arena” flashbacks. Likewise, the episode uses the standard TOS A-story/B-story split, with a major character stranded or captured and trying to survive, and the rest of the crew working feverishly to find and save their comrade.
Yet, the episode isn’t about confrontation or even one of Star Trek’s trademark “we’re not so different, you and I” epiphanies. It’s about how we bridge the gaps between peoples, and how the stories we tell can bring those peoples together and teach us about one another. The former is true to the spirit of The Next Generation’s ethos, fitting with the series’s bent toward cultural and political understanding and peace. The latter is true to the show in a meta sense, as a series of tales meant to display the human condition across cultures and hopefully bring people together through them.
Granted, to achieve either of those things here, the audience has to stop themselves from thinking too hard about how Tamarian society would actually work. Don’t get me wrong, speaking entirely in call-outs to famous myths and other tales of renown might be enough to get you through a lot of simple social situations. It might even be enough to get you through day-to-day life in a fairly simple society. But the Children of Tama are a space-faring species with technology that surpasses the Federation. It’s hard to envision how they could translate concepts like “We need to shift the absorption rate of the dilithium crystals approximately thirty-two percent and shift the result power through the starboard nacelle in order to aim it at the apogee of the wormhole and dilute its gravitational field enough for us to escape at Warp 3” into metaphor.
But this wouldn’t be the first Star Trek episode to take a concept that itself works better as metaphor or something heightened than as something real, and it wouldn’t be the last. That’s the elegance of it. “Darmok” is itself a fable, a fantastical story of a species with a peculiar syntax nevertheless finding a bond of understanding with their galactic neighbors through two men being stranded together in an outlandish situation. Like the myths Picard reads in the episode’s closing scene, it requires some willing suspension of disbelief, but the story works on a thematic and emotional level, which makes it easy to forgive the allowances it takes.
The emotion rests on the budding friendship between Captain Picard and Dathon, the alien captain who deliberately strands himself with Picard to forge a bond between the two of them. I’ll confess, it’s hard to put myself in the shoes of a first-time viewer for this one: not knowing whether the Tamarians have ill-intent, not knowing how their language works, not knowing what they’re trying to communicate.
But I’d like to think that the viewer’s experience mirror’s Picard’s. At first we’re inclined to be suspicious of Dathon. He’s kidnapped Picard from his ship. He’s bearing a pair of knives and seems to be trying to initiate ritual combat. He speaks in a flurry of proper nouns that make his intent less than clear in situations that bear on his and Jean-Luc’s survival. And yet, as Picard begins to understand his meaning, appreciate his good intentions, and grow attached to his counterpart, so do we.
Much of that comes from the boffo performance of Paul Winfield as Dathon. His is a difficult and, frankly, thankless role for an actor. He has to speak veritable nonsense, and yet communicate character, emotion, determination, friendship, and most importantly conviction through it. When the episode begins, we don’t know what Dathon is trying to say, and even as it progresses, some of his phrases remain opaque, But through Winfield’s intensity, his warmth, his pain, we understand who he is. We countenance him as a well-rounded person with internal thoughts and feelings. Winfield achieves all of this without the benefit of dialogue the audience can comprehend, and it’s a tremendous achievement.
The one downside to the episode’s construction is that, given the high concept premise, it requires a fair bit of exposition. Maybe I’m being unfair to the episode. Seeing Troi, Data, and Riker figure out the Tamarian method of communication through multiple scenes, and having an entire separate event where Picard does the same might not seem as tedious if you’re not already in the know from having seen the episode before. The central idea is still a strong one, but ironically, the mechanics of conveying it to the audience can grow a little tiresome.
Still, it’s worth it to watch the bond between Picard and Dathon blossom. Through the need to survive, mutual generosity, a shared threat that requires cooperation, understanding slowly emerges. That was Dathon’s plan all along, to put he and Jean-Luc the same position the figures from his story were in, in the hopes that it would bring the two of them together the same way it did those men of myth.
Suffice it to say, it works. Through the situation comes comprehension, enough for Picard to communicate to Dathon’s second-in-command and avoid a confrontation. But through the telling of the story comes camaraderie. Dathon doesn’t fully understand Picard’s tale of Gilgamesh, but the telling of it is a form of bonding, a type of comfort and exchange. It soothes Dathon as he convalesces, and brings the two of them together.
In an ideal world, the same is true for Star Trek itself. There’s a (likely apocryphal) story of two Trekkies who spoke different languages falling in love at a con when they found they could nevertheless converse together in Klingon. Most of the time, the unifying communication isn’t that literal, but for many of us, Star Trek is common ground, creating its own set of fables and touchpoints that unite people, help clarify their views of the world, and make human beings a little more comprehensible to each other. As much as phrases like “Live long and prosper” have entered the popular consciousness, there’s ways big and small that Trek has made communicating certain ideas easier. There’s a common well of concepts and characters to draw from that help us to understand one another.
But at the same time, in a much bigger way, Star Trek has bonded folks, brought them together in spaces real and virtual, for their shared love of hearing and telling these stories. One of the few silver linings of a dark, pandemic-filled year for me was finding a group of like-minded Trek fans who gush and bash and love all the same Starfleet stories I do. I’ve never met the vast majority of these people. Many of them come from other countries with different native tongues. And yet, we’re all able to forge those bonds of friendship and even community from the ways we’ve been shaped by those stories, and continue to be shaped by them today.
I hope there’s still room in my brain for original thought with so many pieces of pop culture floating around up there. It’s important to be able to distinguish between the comforts of fiction and the needs and complexities of real life, and it’s important to have an identity apart from the art you consume. But if I were to craft a form of communication founded only on metaphor and storytelling -- if I were to pick a set of tales to be the founding ideas for what we aspire to and how we related to one another -- I can hardly think of a better starting point than Star Trek: The Next Generation, and bold outings like “Darmok” demonstrate why.
I just loved Laurens answer to privilege (And they actually used it correctly for once - although I'm asking myself how someone who was able to afford medical school in the US and got a spot which you seemingly can only get if someone bribes a person for you can't afford an iPad - I don't know about US universities, but you can't get through the german ones if you don't have your own computer these days, so having to share digital books seems weird).
But in general:
Isn't it weird, that if you help family (in the figurative not the literal sense) you are giving them "an unfair advantage" but if you don't you're considered a stone-cold bitch/ass?
Regarding Max and Helen:
Can the Show be renamed and follow them?
Seems actually more interesting than the non-characters we'd be left with.
Lauren is interesting but the character can't hold the show on her own, I've skipped over most of Iggy's scenes from the start since they are boring, Floyd was unlikeable since he told Lauren that he couldn't be with her because she is white (which is just as disgusting as telling someone you can't be with them because they are black and your family will only accept white spouses).
They will need some really good stories for the new medical director if they want to keep the show relevant.
I thought Chuck wanted at least try to be better.
Instead his dillusions of grandeur got even worse.
Also, in a final scene Taylor showed their own hypocritical self. Making grand talks about the markets and logical decisions while DECIDING FOR her subordinate that she stays put and then firing her out of spite basically telling her that they will make Axe not rehire her also. (Oh my what a pronoun-salad...).
The only people actually even remotely likeable in this show are Axe and Wendy - both not good people but people who at least don't pretend to be something they are not or to fight for one thing while they are fighting for another.
Unrelated: "Banks are Evil" - really?!? You work for a corporation which makes a living out of buying and selling peoples livelyhood (their places of work) - putting people out of work indirectly by expectation of better margins from the people in charge and you don't even use your own money for it.
Banks on the other hand usually lend and administrate money for other people without much risk or gain (yes, mostly!).
If you want to label one of the two things evil (and I maintain, that good and evil are just constructs usable in the context of the predominent culture of the time) - I would say that in general Capital Investment firms fit the bill way better than Banks.
I don't understand why Ivar lost the war. Wasn't everyone saying that the Saxons were outnumbered? The guy who killed Harald was even telling Alfred to retreat. Alfred not retreating seemed like a desperate move. Is it because Harald and Ivar died? But then why did Ivar have to die? Could he have avoided breaking his bones or was it time for it to happen, so then he decided to go out like a warrior to reach Valhalla? It's all conjecture from me, since they didn't make anything clear.
It was emotional seeing Hvitserk and Ivar like that. Ivar showing love for a brother was great to see. Also loved seeing Ivar speak Norse again.
It was amusing seeing the guy who stabbed Ivar run away just in case. The opposite of what the guy who killed Harald did. An interesting parallel that shows how much more weight Ivar's name has and how feared he is.
"Valhalla is not for you, my friend". I loved Ubbe saying that because it had many meanings. He showed mercy since the blood eagle would've been pointless, but at the same time basically told him he's a coward.
I can't stand Ingrid and her being Queen.
Wait, wait, wait! I just found out it's the ending. This is how the series ends!? That's a bit underwhelming. Ubbe's story is the only ending I like. Although I would've liked to see more of his adventures, it made sense ending it there. Ingrid Queen of Kattegat? Trash. Hvitserk's ending? Just meh, like most of the things happening to his character. Ivar's death was emotional, but they could've made it more epic. At least Alfred saw it happen though.
Damn, I always loved Harald, he's always been the unlucky guy with big ambitions that never quite work, always taken as an ally in battles to very little benefits to him, while still a great warrior and clearly loved by his people. So what ? His jealousy of Bjorn broke him so much that he behaved like a common criminal and just rape his rival's wife ?
The timeline is totally fucked up in this episode anyway. Nobody noticed her ? She seems to come out while the battle is already started. But Harald is fighting on the beach with Bjorn. So when does that happen exactly ? Conveniently the night before the battle ? Because how would he have justified that afterwards otherwise ? The whole think makes no sense.
The battles themselves are kinda ok. I very much doubt the engineering involved is historically accurate, but the action is fun.
Nice touch: Ivar and Bjorn talking on the beach, as a metaphor of generals discussing through their strategies.
But then, it's hard to follow and a lot of nonsense.
The Rus basically have a ship for every warrior on the Viking side, so do they even need any strategy ?
They keep the little prince exposed, on the spearheading ship, really ?
The strategy flashbacks in the middle make it look like the battle takes place in several steps which is apparently not the case. The attempt at having an original narrative structure really fails there.
So they manage to put a whole army in the back of the defenders, through an apparently inaccessible path. OK. Sure. But then how come the defenders had specific siege defenses on this side ? And if they were expecting it, why not attack on the mountainside instead, that would have been a pretty easy win.
And then, Ivar, manages to go through all that, pass through this line of defense, go through the whole battlefield and the wole viking army, and stab Bjorn by surprise ??? I really hope that was a metaphor for his strategic victory because it makes no sense at all.
The voting part was interesting. Not sure there is anything historic about it, but fun. And it goes as expected. Clearly Harald would have lobbied. He was also the closest to the title before, many would have been under him I guess. Bjorn has no experience of power, and voting for him would have brought no benefits. Clearly the public vote means some changed their mind to get Harald's favour once the wind turned.
And that's why Kjetil was all suspicious looking. I expected worse to be honest.But it's not clear what happened. Did Harald really planned to kill Bjorn ? That seems really ungrateful and a little out of character for him. Or was it because he wasn't at the feast ? And why would Kjetil warn Bjorn ? Didn't he want him dead ? Still possible that this was all arranged by Kjetil. Including Erik's help. But maybe he would have like to be left there.
The subplot with Oleg's wife is weird. She's supposed to be at least nobility right ? So even if Oleg would do that, why would she be so enthusiastic to take part ? Unless she's a random girl he recruited just to mess with Ivar ?
Lagertha's village second battle was interesting. Obviously the guy at the gate was a lure and sacrifice, but what about the children ? Did they sent children to die as bait to lure the bandits in ?
The labyrinth fight was great, though I wonder, seeing how they barely had time to build it, how much training would they have had at manipulating the walls and traps, opening and closing paths, etc. More fire would have been smart. Lagertha's fight was ok I guess. Pretty ironic the guy wanted his honor and go to Valhalla when he was murdering a child not long ago. Very stupid of her to fight him like this, but maybe not for a viking I guess. Even more stupid to go back after, wounded like she was.
And damn, as soon as you see Hvitserk, you know she'll be crawling around and he will think she's Ivar or something. What a way to go for the last original character... And couldn't she have used her last words to say what she came to say ? The song was a little too much though. But at least Hvitserk has done something for the first time in the show. Good for him I guess.
Ivar already planning a betrayal by befriending Igor, ok, it fits. Might be a good idea too seeing Oleg's temper later. But seriously Igor doesn't know that he is supposed to be the kingdom's heir ? Nobody ever told him that ??
Olaf wants Bjorn to be King of Norway. Could be a trap, but given the guy, it's probably true. He's always been a little mystical and dreaming. Harald will probably not like it.
Hvitserk got a chance to meet his destiny, being sent in Ivar's direction, and fucks it up. Not sure when Amma became his official babysitter ?
Main story though is the bandits attack on Lagertha's village. So many questions. Like, when did it become a village ? She chose a lonely place on purpose. Where do they come from ? Are they all men released by Bjorn ? DId he released that many, as a pack like that, ready to form their own army ? That was insanely stupid. And every time we saw them there were 2-3n but now they are a whole army ?
Anyway this leads to a battle, very different from the ones we're used to as most of them are not professional warriors (or haven't been for a long time), so that's interesting. The sentinel kids were pretty good. A shocking, and very stupid way to die for Hali though.
Yet another calm before the storm episode.
Ubbe's fight duel was ok. I liked the look of Frodo, too bad we won't see him fight more. Strange moment when he recovers his faith, while still almost dying.
Judith's cancer must have been very very quick. Was Ubbe gone for more than a week ?
Freydis' reaction is strange. She built a mad man out of a rabid dog, I always thought she was aware of that and that it served her interests. Did she really think Ivar could never turn against her ? It was good while she treated him as a god, but at the first occasion where she rebels, he's pretty quick to treat her like everyone else.
Surprisingly, the event seems to have made him a little less insane. I wonder if he had the midwives killed so they can't contradict his story.
What was Hvitserk's plan at the beginning. He's alone with someone else's army. So beyond killing Ivar, what ? Did he think he'd get the throne ?
In the end there was no reason or interest in Lagertha's disappearance. Nothing justifying her being out for several episodes and she's just back and cured in a snap. Was that real life events preventing her from filming ?
Harald and Bjorn's fight was good fun.
Floki discovering that Christians have been here before him is probably mind breaking. Well, even worse than before. However even if his screaming could have provoked a cave in (not even sure), it definitely can't provoke a volcanic reaction. That twist was a long (and useless) time coming.
Wait, what ? Bjorn is back ? He was just fleeing in the middle of a sandstorm, and poof now he's back.
Meaning:
- they survived the storm
- did not lose each other (though where's Sindric)
- were not chased or caught up afterwards (we still don't know why they wanted to kill them)
- were somehow able to get out of the desert back to the ships
- they were just three, so it's not even clear they used their own ships by the way, so were their other guys just waiting
- then they joined the other ships they had abandoned entering the sea
- and they get back
- without bringing anything (how does the rest of the expedition takes that ?)
That's a hell of an ellipsis ! And not clear how many months have passed. What was the point of all that then ?
Astrid's pregnant, lol, no idea who the father is. Not sure it's important anyway.
Floki's people are disappointed, well yeah, they're not high as he was.
Bjorn gets a new girl. "My son wants to sleep with your daughter", wow, I thought diplomacy was a little classier than that. Poor Torvi, though she immediately gets jumped by the brother. That's a little weird, but sure.
Ain't Alfred a little too full of himself (and as high as Floki) ?
the closing scene: literal goosebumps (and, right after, elisabeth moss appearing as the director: chef’s kiss!). i greatly appreciate the extent to which june’s anger and rage are given space instead of trying to subdue her emotions and mental states. if the show aimed at shaping a meta-narrative by foregrounding morality and forgiveness, it would not only betray its main character (june as june) by validating, at her expense, the very beliefs of christianity that left her traumatized beyond words (june as the handmaid), but it would also ring psychologically untrue to us, the viewers, who, i hope, seek the elusive notion of justice for her—not a justification for the seemingly “good” thing to do. june is hurting. she’s not yet kind. nor should she be. at present, hurt is informing her every action. and it’s okay. it’s what makes her human—not a robotic, subdued object (i.e., a handmaid). as such, the show is not fading her in any way; on the contrary, it showcases her regained, autonomous self with the harshest contours possible to give back the voice of her emotions that, for the longest time, was robbed from her. agency and self-assertion are not “kind” and soft-spoken things: june is screaming—for good reason. to reiterate: her reasons, her actions are not, nor should they be, rooted in the “good” christianity believes in—but in everything she lost (herself, her husband, her child). her scream is, hence, grief. rarely is it pretty. i can’t wait to see the rest of june’s trajectory.
This episode packs so much stuff.
Aunt Lydia loves Janine, perhaps the only person she loves who at least kinda loves her back. Most significantly, it is clear that Janine is the only person capable of cracking Lydia's protective shell, letting us get a glimpse of humanity hiding within. I suspect Lydia sees Janine as a Supplicant, a prospective Aunt. This will become very significant as this series progresses into the timeline of The Testaments.
Poor Luke. This episode illustrates how far June has fallen -- pre-Handmaid June is long dead. June's ice melted the moment she heard Nick's voice. June may love Luke as much as Nick, but the only man who truly understands post-Handmaid June is Nick. This common bond, along with her unconditional love for her children, kept June alive.
The most satisfying is the aftermath of Fred and Serena. Last week's episode, when they were cheered by the Gilead sympathizers, was very disturbing to say the least. On this episode, Gilead has thrown them under the bus by sending thoughts and prayers, and hints of retribution when they return. June and Luke's justified rage notwithstanding, I look forward to Fred and Serena seeking their revenge against the Gilead.
[7.7/10] One read on the blockbusters of the last twenty years is that most of them are relitigating 9/11 in some way, shape, or form. Scott Mendlson argued that part of the success of 2012’s The Avengers is that the “Battle of New York” reimagined a version of that fateful day where we were saved. Zack Snyder’s Batman v. Superman makes explicit visual parallels to the September 11th Attacks. Even J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek Into Darkness plays with similar ideas and images.
But one point made by another commentator is that most creators don’t really think the implications of these parallels through. They want to give their climaxes the flavor of these events, because it provokes a certain emotion in the audience or, more charitably, creates a sense of catharsis. Channeling real life creates an emotional shorthand for the viewer. But when you mix in triple-layer conspiracies and alien invasions and the other fantastical bric-a-brac general audiences demand, you can accidentally send a message that you don’t really intend. Making the story exciting or engrossing can have knock-on effects for your theme when you invoke the real world to get there.
That’s what I have to remind myself of when watching “Ensign Ro”, the debut of not only a new recurring character for The Next Generation, but of one of the most important species in all of Star Trek. The Bajorans would become a vital part of the franchise, and their conflict with the Cardassians, a group only introduced last season, would make up the foundation of Deep Space 9. That’s a lot of baggage to append to a single episode when revisiting a show like TNG that spurred its own sixteen-year cinematic universe.
But that is, to put it mildly, nothing compared to the baggage of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict invoked by “Ensign Ro.” Make no mistake. Creatives behind the show like Executive Producer Rick Berman, head writer Michael Piller, and story editor Ronald D. Moore have all disclaimed that the Bajorans were meant to represent any single group. It’s true that you can map their struggles onto many different groups across history. But it’s plain, especially for 1991, that they are meant as a reflection of the Palestinians and, by extension, America’s approach to the Middle East.
That makes it uncomfortable when the episode reveals that a supposed Bajoran attack on a Federation colony was actually perpetrated by the Cardassians. It makes things feel squeamish when one mendacious admiral (aren’t they all?) conspires with the Cardassians to provide an excuse for Starfleet to intervene and flush out the Bajoran leader who’s been causing problems for them under false pretenses of trying to aid in the peace process. The episode flattens and dramatizes the conflicts it’s pulling from, and that’s before you get into allegations of torture and cultural exclusion and beyond.
But taken purely as a story -- with surprising final act twists and the usual unreliable representatives of Starfleet command and Captain Picard taking a moral stand against his own leaders -- the episode is great! Our heroes are forced to try to negotiate with a group of people who resent Starfleet both for its interference and non-interference. The course of finding a Bajoran leader who can answer for the attacks on the Federation colony and Cardassian civilian outposts requires navigating communities that have a very different perspective on Starfleet and using very different channels than we normally see vis-a-vis diplomacy on the Enterprise. One benefit from pulling from real life events is that it lends a distinctiveness and complexity to the international relations Picard and company have to deal with.
It also gives us the titular Ensign Ro. She is a Bajoran member of Starfleet, known for insubordination and who resents her assignment to the Enterprise at the evil admiral’s behest. In all candor, she tells Picard (and a very testy Riker) that she’s only there because it’s preferable to prison. But despite her orneriness, Ro is an asset to navigating the Bajoran conflict and community, with her willingness to call out Picard and company for their naivete.
In her initial appearance, Ro starts as an archetype I’ve grown very tired of -- the too-cool-for-school rebel who just doesn’t wanna be part of your system, man! She’s been to jail! She doesn’t follow orders! She marches to the beat of her own drum! She talks back to Picard! She doesn’t adhere to Starfleet niceties and no one’s real enough to get her! She’s got her own dry cool way of going through life, and she doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it! It’s become such a stock, flat cliché of a character type that I instantly roll my eyes at it these days.
But TNG does two things that quickly turned me around on her. For one, it has Guinan see through her posturing and get through to her. As I mentioned in “Redemption”, Guinan has a way of cutting through to the core of people and getting past their defenses. That makes her the perfect foil to Ro, someone who can call her out for claiming not to want company but sitting in a private place, and encouraging her to go to Picard and trust him with her issue rather than moping about it while confined to quarters. In short, Guinan sees through the act, and reveals the depths to Ro -- someone a little bit in pain, who feels like she doesn’t have a home, and who lashes out accordingly -- that reveal a richer character beneath the archetype.
They also tie her reactions and personal history to her complicated relationship with her people. Again, going back to “Redemption”, I’m a sucker for “child of two worlds” shtick. Ro Laren has internalized the oppression of her people. She opens up to Picard and tells him how she was ashamed of her heritage for a long time, after a tragedy and trauma with her father, and is only recently reasserting it and learning to accept it.
But to do so, she has to overcome the discrimination and ignorance that persists even in the Federation. A prickly Riker immediately demands she remove her Bajoran earring because it’s not part of the regulation uniform (something that plays as reflection of conflicts over religious dress in the U.S. military). Picard calls her “Ensign Laren” at first, not realizing that the family name comes first for Bajorans. She bristles at how the Federation breaks bread with a “respectable Bajoran” who gets invited to prestigious conferences but has little real influence over his people.
Respectability politics and the struggles of maintaining your cultural identity in a place that sees it as suspect or at least encourages you to hide it or assimilate are potent personal and political issues. They add dimensions to Ro, putting her at the intersection of multiple peoples and purposes, that make her a more compelling character.
A combination of Guinan’s encouragement and Picard’s trust sees her reveal the villainous admiral’s plan to Picard. What follows is a double-bluff, where Picard exposes the backroom dealing of his suspect commanding officer in a trap dreamed up by Ensign Ro. It makes for an exciting set piece and gives you that “Aha!” moment of craftiness for our heroes. They haven’t suddenly solved the conflict du jour or found a path toward peace, but they’ve thwarted the people who would manipulate the truth of the situation for their own ends.
That truth is a complicated one. Many of the Bajorans, including the militant leader, make no bones about a willingness to attack civilians if it makes people hear their pleas. The Cardassians are faking terror attacks to dupe Starfleet dopes into helping them do their dirty work. Rogue(?) admirals are lying to their subordinates about the peace process so as to make them pawns in a larger game. That all works as more cloak and dagger, proto-Game of Thrones-style political posturing with twists galore, but it feels more problematic as an artistic representation of real people, real conflicts, and real events.
I spoke in my review of “Darmok” of how Star Trek is something that brings people together. I still believe it. I believe in the ideas of universal brotherhood and understanding that the series evinces on a weekly basis. But what must it be like to watch this franchise as someone from Russia or China or another people analogized as some fantastical other? Sure, TNG and its predecessor would take time to humanize Romulans and Klingons and other foes, but they were made less recognizably human, more frequently villainous and untrustworthy. Even if you like the show, how must it feel to see a community you care about depicted that way?
I’m spoiled (or, more accurately, privileged) in that it’s almost never something I have to face in Star Trek. I’m a straight, cisgender, white male who lives in the United States of America. To quote Homer Simpson, “Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are.” I can indulge in the flattery of the Federation as a metaphor not just for human potential, but for America, as the flawed but noble protagonists of the future. It’s a splash of cold water, then, to see a community you care about, that you may even identify with to some extent, as the conniving villains of the hour.
It’s then that I force myself to remember that real life is a jumping off point for these sorts of stories. I doubt that if Berman or Piller or Moore were pressed, they would confess to believing in false flag terrorism or similar conspiracy plots in real life. I suspect they’d say that while they wanted to speak to current events, the way Star Trek ought to, ultimately they just wanted to tell a good story.
But part of what a good story is does is challenge your perceptions and perspective. Roger Ebert famously referred to movies as empathy machines, for the way they can put us in the shoes of anyone and make us understand their plight and their troubles. And yet, they also give us the chance to do the reverse -- to see what it feels like to be cast as the villain, to watch our own struggles and frustrations made into the motives of the adversary, into the thing that must be overcome.
On the one hand, it can help us to see more plainly the way our favorite shows and stories can flatten or oversimplify its antagonists, even and especially when they pull from real life events, in ways that are harder to detect when we’re able to identify with the good guys. And on the other, it can challenge our assumptions on that front, to consider whether we might be the bad guys, or at least something short of what we aspire to be, when viewed through someone else’s lens.
[5.8/10] “The Game” gets one thing right. If you were plotting to take over the Enterprise, the best way to do it would be to run a honeypot scheme on William T. Riker. Most of Starfleet’s crises stem from bizarre spatial phenomena, or an enemy force poised to strike, or a god-like being holding our heroes’ fate in its hands. This week’s stems from the ship's First Officer getting too snuggly with a pretty face who;s concealing a bad motive. And somehow it feels more believable as a means of nearly taking down the ship for it.
That is, strangely, the best part of this one, and it’s over in the first five minutes. “The Game” matches a standard Invasion of the Body-Snatchers-style mystery plot with the return and romances of one Wesley Crusher. I know, I was shocked it wasn’t a banger too.
But we make due. On the romance side, Wesley is on vacation from Starfleet Academy and runs into another engineering wunderkind, Robin Leffler, and strikes up a quick friendship. Unfortunately, the two are supposed to be the romantic backbone of the episode, and instead come off like inane, barely-sketched clichés. I don’t know why The Next Generation is so hit or miss when it comes to romantic chemistry, but in this one, the powers that be hope that throwing a pair of winsome young adults together and smile a lot suffices for character development.
Of note, Leffler is played by a very young, pre-fame Ashely Judd, who does OK in the role. There’s not a lot of depth in the script or the performance, but she’s at least semi-plausible as someone who would make goo-goo eyes at Wesley, which is good, because it’s most of what she does for the hour. The only other wrinkle to Leffler is that she keeps a list of her own “Leffler’s Laws,” which turn out to be a collection of hollow aphorisms to help her get through everyday life. If I didn’t know better, I’d say their overall triteness was supposed to be a gag, but I don’t know if I’d give good ol’ Brannon Braga, who penned the teleplay for this one, that much credit.
When the episode isn’t giving us a pair of teenagers flirting in about as uninvolving a way as you could imagine, it’s giving us a Pod People plot. You see, while vacationing on Risa, Riker started playing footsie with an alien temptress, who introduced him to the titular game. But it’s not just a diverting fad. It’s a plot by the seductress to take over the Enterprise, since the game is not only addictive, but brainwashes its players into doing her bidding and spreading the game to others.
It’s not the worst premise in the world, but there’s not much to it either. Is it a commentary on addictive drugs? Is it a grim take on how quickly fads spread? Is it just an excuse to pay homage to some old fashioned mind control horror? Whatever the case, the setup is paper thin. The various members of the senior staff just invite their friends to try the game and...they do. There’s no wrinkles to it beyond the need to incapacitate Data (since he’s not susceptible to the game device’s tricks), and there’s little intrigue beyond the affected crewmembers taking on a disturbing look of pleasure as their free will is overridden by a toy.
Even though he’s been gone for almost a full season now, this is still a Wesley Crusher episode, which means the special-est boy in the world still has to figure out what not even trained seasoned professionals can. Sure enough, with the help of his new girlfriend, Wes realizes there’s something pathological about this game, and tries to stop it before everyone on the ship is under its spell.
“The Game” generates a mild bit of tension when Wesley is racing against time to prevent a brain-washed Captain Picard, Worf, and Riker from catching him and subjecting him to the game’s effects. But you never believe for a second the chase is going anywhere, and watching Wesley outsmart trained professionals over and over again lost its luster a long time ago. The best the episode can do is try to make the cat and mouse game more exciting than normal given that Wes knows the senior staff’s usual tricks, but in the end, it doesn’t amount to much.
The episode ends with a minor twist, that the kids managed to restore Data despite sabotage from a mind-controlled Dr. Crusher, and Wesley was just stalling for time. But the solution to this whole conflagration of grand theft mental turns out to be...an epileptic series of flashing lights. It’s a nigh-literal deus ex machina, as Data just shows up with the solution in the nick of time, and that’s that. No unique motive for our villainess. Nothing particularly clever or setup for Data’s methods. Just “they fixed it -- the end.”
It’s cold comfort for an episode where the only other main focus is the “sparkling repartee” between Wesley and Leffler. We’ve seen this kind of thing before in the execrable “The Dauphin”, and Wes’s puppy love is no more compelling or entertaining here. I don’t think it’s any great spoiler to tell you that, despite the professions of long distance affection here, we never see Robin Leffler again, and nothing of value was lost.
The real shame of “The Game” is that a good writer could find meaningful story beats in Wesley Crusher’s return to the Enterprise after leaving for Starfleet Academy. In a few short scenes we get the joys of reunion, a funny conversation where Wes regales his mentor with how his first year’s been going, a mom who wants to spend time with her son while still giving him space. In a better episode, that would all be fodder to explore what it means to come back to a familiar place after leaving, without the need for an extraneous romance.
The best you can say is that maybe that’s what this episode is going for with the mind-altering game. Returning to a familiar setting can be a little jarring, as things change, even people change, without you, to the point that what was once familiar and soon feel alien. There’s the wisp of that in “The Game”, but it’s so thin as to probably be accidental.
Instead, the high point comes in the opening minutes, where you realize that all this trouble started because, of course, Riker couldn’t keep his phaser in his pants. It’s good to know that even as ensigns come and go, some things always stay the same on the Enterprise.
[7.2/10] You can’t spoil a good story. That’s not give people free reign to blast key details from barely-out superhero movies or hold up signs giving away the ending to Harry Potter books. There’s something unique about consuming some piece of art without knowing what comes next, and fie on anyone who would try to pop that bubble for someone else. But something genuinely well-done can never be fully spoiled, because even when the surprise has faded, what’s left is (hopefully) still a compelling tale full of excitement, emotion, and vibrancy.
“A Matter of Time” is...not that. I’ll confess that I remembered the twist here from childhood -- Berlinghoff Rasmussen is not a historian from the future, but a conman from the past. And rather than adding intrigue from the dramatic irony of knowing Rasmussen is full of shit when our heroes aren’t quite sure, that knowledge simply takes all of the dramatic air out of the balloon.
That owes to lots of different reasons, from performance and pacing to simple aesthetic choices. But I think the problem boils down to three key things: 1. The crew blindly accepts Ramsussen’s story for most of the episode, 2. They then don’t really react to him and 3. His plan isn’t terribly interesting.
The first is the most baffling. Rasmussen shows up, claims to be a timeline-hopping student of history, and Picard’s response is to “extend him every courtesy.” For starters, that strains credulity and plays as a story contrivance. In fairness, giving randos the run of the place during time travel escapades is nothing new for Star Trek (see “Tomorrow Is Yesterday” from The Original Series), but it seems unlikely, to say the least, that Picard would just let this totally unknown guy with a fantastical story roam around his ship and learn as many details about it as possible.
(As an aside, the crew’s ignorance about future historians time traveling for research purposes doesn’t track with “Assignment: Earth” from TOS, where Kirk’s Enterprise randomly traveled back to the 1960s for historical study, but I’m happy to chalk that up to broad strokes continuity for the sixties show.)
The bigger problem is that it robs the episode of dramatic intrigue. How do you treat a time-traveler who might be real or might be bluffing? What proof would you have them provide (and seriously, what “credentials” could Rasmussen possibly have that would be convincing?) and how would you evaluate it? What level of trust do you show someone who could be a fellow explorer or could be a grifter, or worse yet, an enemy? These are all fascinating questions that would withstand the ultimate reveal, and “A Matter of Time” blows right by them.
Likewise, there’s little to be gleaned from how the rest of the crew treats this supposed man of the future. The tension in the episode comes from the way our heroes are attempting to save the planet of the week from a frosty disaster. Rasmussen hints that it’s a big deal, a pivotal moment in history, that will be remembered for years to come, with the excitement meant to emerge from the mystery of what form that will take.
And yet, the crew of the Enterprise treat the mission, and Rasmussen, like it’s just another day at the office. There’s something realistic about that. After all, Riker, Geordi, Data and the others are professionals, and over the last four years they’ve seen plenty of what the Official Starfleet Manual refers to as “pretty weird shit.” It’s not crazy that they’d take the arrival of a supposed researcher from the future and a planet on the verge of catastrophe in stride.
But it leads to a surprisingly staid episode. None of the crew seems to take Rasmussen’s hints or warnings terribly seriously, which removes any emotional tension from his presence and the current crisis. As a result, it doesn’t feel like there’s much at stake when the fateful moment comes for the Enterprise to try to restore the nearby planet’s atmosphere while Rasmussen pulls up a front row seat for the big event. They mostly treat him like just another guy, and he doesn’t really impact the choices they make, so it doesn’t really matter that he’s lying about his origins and purpose.
That tack makes the exceptions to these moments stand out, and create the best scenes in the episode. At one point, Rasmussen hits on Beverly, and she’s plainly creeped out by it while trying not to make a scene. The uncomfortableness of the whole thing points to the off-putting vibe a huckster like Rasmussen has, and Dr. Crusher recognizing something off about him helps sell the eventual twist.
For all my gripes with the writing here, Matt Frewer actually does a very nice job as the time-traveling flim-flammer. He’s annoying in the role, but in a believable sort of way, with a nerdy, supercilious glee about everything that helps mask his real intent. He has a carnival barker air about him, which lets him give off a bad vibe even before the truth about his path to get here becomes known.
That comes through in his blasé attitude to Picard’s request for help with how to deal with the situation down on the planet. The captain acknowledges that there’s probably rules against tampering with the timeline, just as he observes rules about not interfering with other species’ natural development. But he also acknowledges that there are twenty million lives at stake, and that he’s reexamined his convictions and broken the rules for less. He asks Rasmussen to do the same here.
It’s a hell of a scene, bringing to bear the philosophical ethos of Star Trek and the real intrigue of the situation. Is it ethical to ask someone with knowledge of the future to help you change it? Is there anything sacred about the timeline as they know it or is Picard right and we rewrite the future with every choice we make anyway? Does Rasmussen have a point when he says that for someone from the future, those twenty million people are all long dead regardless, that everyone dies eventually, so the lives in the balance don’t carry the same moral weight to him.
These questions all matter independent of whether Rasmussen is telling the truth. They take on added meaning when the viewer knows that he’s a con artist from the path who (probably) doesn’t have the knowledge of the future he claims to posses, nor the moral hang-ups he claims to be bound by. And Picard’s choice to act rather than “play it safe” speaks to who he is regardless of his scene partner. It’s a five-minute glimpse of the approach his whole episode should have taken.
Of course, Picard’s choice works out and despite a few dicey moments, the planet is saved. But before things wrap up, our heroes have to expose Rasmussen. Rather than finding him out organically, there’s some exposition-laden final scenes that reveal they were secretly onto him for some time and tricked him into letting the crew scan his vessel and deactivate the vessels inside. His whole plot was just to sneak aboard, steal some future tech, and return to the past to sell it. It didn’t require much cleverness or even the elaborate ruse he put on, rendering his whole song and dance retroactively less interesting.
It’s frustrating, because there’s some clever irony here. The man claiming to be from the future, trying to flim-flam people who are actually more advanced than him, and getting trapped two centuries after his time feels appropriately poetic. The conman getting conned is always a satisfying out. There’s a good concept here, one that buoys the episode even when the way it's constructed weakens its ability to realize that potential.
Maybe it’s just that the whole episode builds to those twists: what’s Rasmussen’s real deal and what is he here to witness firsthand? For a great episode, knowing the answers to those questions would only enhance the thrills of seeing how The Next Generation builds to those answers and resolutions. For a merely “pretty good” one like “A Matter of Time”, a rewatch is liable to try the viewer’s patience.
[5.8/10] According to Star Trek: The Next Generation writer Ronald D. Moore, the show’s star, Patrick Stewart once told him that the captain doesn’t do enough “screwing and shooting in this series.” “Captain’s Holiday” plays like a corrective to that, one where Stewart gets to play a more Kirk-ian version of the captain, who becomes more of a romantic lead and a pugilist than we normally see out of the staid and dignified leader aboard the Enterprise. And if that’s the case, it’s a damn good thing TNG didn’t go with this tack more often, as the results are, if not outright awful, than still far below the standards of the rest of season 3.
There’s a corniness and, frankly, a stupidity to all of this that drags down most of the episode. It centers on Captain Picard being cajoled by his subordinates to finally take a vacation, and when he does, he becomes inadvertently embroiled in a tangle of double-crosses, treasure hunting, and a love interest. I don’t mind the concept necessarily. Episodes where our heroes take a break from exploration and get to just be themselves outside of work can be revealing, endearing us to the characters as people, not just professionals.
But the way “Captain’s Holiday” goes about it leaves plenty to be desired. I’ll confess, while the humor is broad, I enjoy some of the attempts to trick, treat, or strongarm Picard to relax away his stress with a bit of shore leave. The humor is cheesy, but Riker’s horndog attempts to convey the “pleasures” of Risa to his captain, and Troi’s implicit threat that her mother might soon come aboard got a few chuckles out of me. I even like that what persuades Picard to take the trip isn’t any of these nudges, but rather the sense that everyone will just keep nudging him if he doesn’t.
Hell, there’s even some laughs to be had down on Risa. There’s something almost Frasier-esque about Picard wanting to just sit in the sun and read his book while getting increasingly annoyed by the hoverballs, splashes, come-ons, and eventually mystery and intrigue keep interrupting. Stewart as the uptight grump forced to vacation someplace tropical is a good beat, even if it’s not enough to sustain an episode all by itself.
But from there, “Captain’s Holiday” devolves into a cut-rate, tropical version of The Maltese Falcon, with a few sci-fi elements tossed in for good measure. The MacGuffin du jour is the “Tox Uthat”, a 27th century device that can neutralize a star. It’s being pursued by Vash, a wide-smiling former assistant to a professor researching it; Sovak, an unscrupulous Ferengi who accuses Picard of being in league with her; and the Vorgons, a pair of Rainbow Fish-headed aliens who claim to be from the future. Picard being annoyed by all of these people interrupting his mandatory holiday is a mild laugh, but once he gets mixed up in their actual business, the episode quickly becomes more and more tiresome.
Some of that is just the business with Vash. It’s not as though she and Picard completely lack any chemistry, but she feels like such an off-the-shelf, generic femme fatale. The bit of spark to all of this is that she likes archeology, and that’s Picard’s entire hook for getting involved in this nonsense in the first place. But their banter and foreplay is more reheated film noir dross. The rapport and sense of “knowing one another” happens way too fast. The best thing you can say is that she seems like someone who’s better suited to hold Picard’s interest than the random conquest Riker seemed to have in mind -- which seems to be the whole point of the episode -- but there’s not enough substance or charm there for the relationship to carry what “Captain’s Holiday” needs it too.
The convoluted mystery at the center of the episode isn’t much better. Sovak is the usual sniveling Ferengi, and the cloak and dagger bits of intimidation and threats don’t make the adventure more intriguing, just more ungainly. The hokey attempts to impose on one another or double cross someone else, or reveal some other mangled bit of backstory play like the results of someone who read half a Raymond Chandler novel on the ride over before switching to an Indiana Jones movie.
Then there’s the time traveling aliens, who just make the whole thing worse. Why Picard ever trusts them to begin with is puzzling (something that Vash points out). Their very existence seems to negate the import of the story, since even though Picard destroys the artifact after uncovering Vash’s deception, presumably they can just zip back in the past and recover it before he gets the chance to since they now know his location. So what was the point? Maybe they wanted to see it destroyed, and were trying to make it happen? Who knows. It’s vague and pretty pointless to begin with.
There’s an attempt at a playful, adventuring spirit in all of this. Picard is in his best explorer gear, and there’s hidden artifacts to uncover and byzantine plots to unravel. The players just aren’t terribly interesting, the macguffin’s too convenient, and the story’s too dull and overloaded. The hunt for the Tox Uthat, and Picard’s reluctant strapping hero routine, are rote and tonally off from TNG’s usual approach.
You can see what “Captain’s Holiday” is going for with all of this -- despite the unnecessary cheesecake shots sprinkled throughout the tropical locale -- and maybe it reflects Patrick Stewart’s feelings about his character. Picard is mentally exhausted from dull diplomatic negotiations, and while everyone thinks he needs rest, what he really needed, apparently, was a different flavor of adventure and excitement to recharge. It’s the difference between his dismissive “uh huh” when Riker congratulates him on a treaty versus his slightly more chipper and knowing “mm-hmm” when Riker expresses his gladness that the trip went well.
The path to get from one affirmation to the other is some combination of dumb and exhausting, with a watered down version of the old swashbuckler shtick that feels closer to the Star Trek of the 1960s than the 1990s. But as useless as this detour feels at times, maybe it’s the sort of thing that’s simply necessary to keep your star happy.
Lord knows I’m glad we didn’t see an increase in tales of Picard “screwing and shooting.” It’s telling that this episode scans as the closest predecessor to the abominable Star Trek: Insurrection. But if it meant that Patrick Stewart was willing to stay the course for the other 20+ episodes a season, it’s a concession I’d be more than happy to make.
For me, personally, this couldn't have been written any better. I loved it! I know not everyone will but for me it did the show justice. It was bittersweet and in line with how the show did things in all its seasons. When Hvitserk is given his new name 'Athelstan' I had to push back some tears. It's like the story has come full circle in a way. Ragnar took Athelstan with him on his first quest and now a son of Ragnar has taken place in Wessex as Athelstan, a name given to him by none other than his son.
Ivar's death was more heartbreaking than I could've imagined. I never thought I'd be shedding tears over him. He changed a lot during his time with the Rus and it is beautiful that he essentially gave his life to ensure that of Hvitserk. These two had such a deep bond and I wondered how it would conclude. I always thought one would kill the other but this was beautiful and tragic all at once.
The last scene of Floki and Ubbe on that beach was so well written too. When Floki tells Ubbe he looks like Ragnar, beautiful. Such a pure scene of two men with deep respect and love for each other. Ragnar would be proud of that.
Now if there is one thing I would like to have seen different it would be Ingrid, living her best life as Queen. I never cared for her though I can admit she is a force. She stood her ground against Harald and Erik but I think I never really warmed up to her because she got with Bjorn while he was already married to Gunnhild and I loved Gunnhild like I loved Lagertha.
I'll say goodbye to this epic adventure for now... probably going to re-watch it in the future and appreciate it all over again.
These supposedly "emotional" death scenes are a huge miss for me this season! I mean, you could tell from Gunhild's speech in the last episode that she was grieving and depressed, saying that since Bjorn is gone, she can't go back to just a being a woman with no future, although she was a badass shield maiden long before Bjorn but it's ok we'll jot that to the depression talking. So it was expected that she will probably kill herself rather than marry Harald but the way it was done just wasn't that impactful for me. She went up, stripped down, went for a little swim, and then drowned herself. I mean, can you even reach Valhalla this way??
As for Ubbe's storyline, we started by seeing this intense fight between Kettil's family and the others and then suddenly Ubbe and the rest decide to start running for their life (were they outnumbered? Coz it didn't seem like it) and I thought they were just gonna retreat but no, they went into full panic mood, got into the boats, and sailed away... The camera then pans to Ketill's family where there was like only a couple of people remaining!! Did they have to leave in such a hurry? I don't get it!
On the other hand, Ivar and Igor's relationship was truly well done. Igor said previously that Ivar saved his life, but in reality, Igor also made a better man out of Ivar. He truly changed as stated by Hvisterk in the end.
I nearly rated this a 7 because it was a fun watch if you didn't pay too much attention to the detail. The best parts were definitely with Saru et al on the planet; the other parts felt shallow and drawn out with a lot of fairly vacuous action. A bit of a disappointing end to the season but on the plus side, at least we don't need to keep pretending that Michael isn't Discovery's leader. I just hope this doesn't mark the end of Saru's involvement, especially since we already lost Georgiou this season.
I do hope next season they focus on distinguishing the assorted crew members more because at the moment, outside of the more obviously senior officers, these assorted faces keep cropping up that all seem to have the same "happy NPC" personality.
As for all the people rating every episode 1s and 2s out of 10, bitching and moaning about alleged "bumming" and forced "diversity", you're 3 seasons in now and know what you're getting. Either accept this is what this particular Trek show is about and try and enjoy it by growing as a person, or find something else to do or watch - life is far too short. You'll feel better, I'm sure.
After I thought it couldn’t get worse, they brought this totally useless episode with Huey, Dewey, and Louie joining the the crew in a senseless fight in the end - tbh story was already senseless, so I m quiet not sure what is bad what senseless. First things first: Season 2 was good. Really. And I thought we could somehow get back to the real Trek in S3. But I finally have that feeling that they don’t had any clue what should happen in S3. This turn Arround with peace offer. Why did she (the green one, gosh first Series in ages where I am still not able to remember the names due to these boring characters) not just :asterisk_symbol:call:asterisk_symbol: instead of invading the HQ to... offer peace? Really? Are u kiddin me? And this all happening while John Mc... sry Michael is creeping through the ship, writing letters to mum and extracting the main engineer my blasting a hole into the outer wall. Only because otherwise he would have gone back to Saru and friends (which never ever appeared for a moment in the whole ep). Wow. What a crap. Let’s hope that Michael somehow leaves the show at the end. And maybe all others besides.... hmm. Who should stay?
2021-01-01T00:00:00Z2021-12-31T23:59:59Z