[7.7/10] Starfleet officers spend a lot of time wringing their hands about the prime directive (or General Order 1, if you’re a classic). And I think there’s a good reason for it -- humility. The rule protects against thinking that just because you’re technologically superior, you know what’s best for another culture or community. Sometimes it gets taken to extremes, but there’s a sound principle behind the guardrail.
But “All the World’s a Stage” suggests maybe they, and we, take it too far. The technology that could change a civilization overnight, the way it did for the Diviner’s people, shouldn’t be distributed out lightly. But the ideals that Starfleet is founded on -- exploration, courage, helping the helpless -- are ones any society is ready to hear. The notion that a stranded Starfleet ensign could be an inspiration, not a contamination, is a heartening one and fits with latter-day Trek’s willingness to celebrate the ethos of the franchise as much as deconstruct it.
Yet, there’s some deconstruction here too. I like how it’s dramatized through Dal seeing a group of pretenders, play-acting as members of “Starflight” with low key embarrassing results, and viewing it as a mirror of his own efforts to live up to the standard. He worries his crew’s attempts may be just as misaimed and misguided. Especially when his only encounter with an actual member of Starfleet led to disaster, it’s reasonable for Dal to wonder if he and his chums are doing any better than the imitative locals are.
By god, those locals are fun though! The idea of a planet full of aliens who had an encounter with Starfleet and chose to imitate them was an idea the DS9 writers had for an anniversary episode (paying tribute to “A Piece of the Action” from TOS) but ultimately discarded. It’s such a blast to see it realized here.
“All the World’s a Stage” is itself a loving (if ribbing) tribute to the 1960s Star Trek series. Hearing the cast do their best exaggerated Shatner impression, watching the locals put on stage plays that reimagine the adventures of Kirk’s Enterprise, and listening to the amusingly off translations of crew member names and even famous hand signals is a pure delight. In truth, the “Enderpridians” are a little cheesy, especially when they’re busting out Captain Kirk’s famous style of fisticuffs and practically worshiping the ground his crew walked on. But they’re a fun kind of cheesy, one that shows affection for those old stories, even as the show pokes fun at the locals (and by extension, the fans) who get obsessive or misinterpret those venerable stories.
What I appreciate most is that the show ultimately redeems them, and shows both their potential and Dal’s when displaying what they’re capable of. For all the silliness that the Enderpridians represent, they also represent the best of Starfleet’s guiding principles in any setting. It spurred their Dr. McCoy equivalent to discover new treatments for ailments, to cause a young Uhura admirer to explore and be brave, and for all of them to have hope even in the darkness.
In truth, it doesn’t make much sense that Dal and Holo-Janeway are just able to nigh-magically retrofit the bridge of the Protostar to the point that the locals can pilot it like it’s the 2300s Enterprise. But it’s still rousing to see them do so. Their success in helping Dal rescue his friends is an affirmation that even if these aliens miss some of the finer details, getting the core of Starfleet’s (or Starflight’s) mission is what matters, and the inspiration they’re taking to heart makes them, and Dal, more ready for what the Federation has in store than the prime directive might have anticipated.
It’s also a nice moment for Jankom Pog. He is frustrated with not being able to fix the Living Construct, and so feels like a failure who doesn’t want to go on the away mission. But when push comes to shove, he shows the bravery to try to fix the broken shuttlecraft that’s causing the problems for the local community, even when it puts his life on the line. His is a simple arc, but an effective one.
Plus hey, holy continuity nod, Batman! Not only is the shuttle that’s causing problems for the locals the Galileo, which is the most prominent recurring craft for Kirk’s Enterprise. But the redshirt who got stuck on the planet is none other than Ensign Garrovick, the young officer who helped Captain Kirk square off against a deadly smoke monster in “Obsession” and whose father had served with the captain years earlier. So much of this episode is a sop to fans of the 1960s series, and the specific references and easter eggs here reinforce that.
Still, at the end of the day, what I like most isn’t just the homage paid to those classic stories, but the idea that what’s important from them is their central ideas, separate and apart from anything that plays as silly or campy today. They’re enough to inspire these aliens, and the crew of the Protostar to do greater things and seek to become better people. That spirit lives on, and suggests that they, and we, may be ready for more than the prime directive might have us believe.
Seeing Dal take that lesson to heart, seeing the good in the Enderpridians and his own crew at the same time, lands this one in a great place. The realization that they can uphold the values of Starfleet, even if they’re not officially part of Starfleet, with or without the Protostar, is a strong lesson and worthwhile moral for Prodigy. The tribute, and the takeaway dovetail together wonderfully in the early high water mark for this batch of episodes.
[7.7/10] Another really entertaining episode. This is more explicitly doing Bewitched and 1960s sitcoms, and there’s a lot of sheer entertainment to be had from a riff on tropes of odd couples trying to fit into their idyllic neighborhoods.
I also appreciate the recognition of classic sitcom tropes and how they’d evolved in the subsequent decades. That goes beyond just the different decor in Wanda and Vision’s home. We see them walk outside and go seemingly on location, beyond the confines of a single set. We also see many more people of color populating their white picket fence town. It’s small details, but they add up to show change.
The notion of Wanda trying to impress Dottie, the queen bee of the neighborhood (Emma Caufield, aka Anya from Buffy the Vampire Slayer), and Vision to get in good with the neighborhood watch, so as to further their joint initiative to fit in works as a great premise for the episode. There’s a lot of humor to be wrung from off-beat Wanda trying to fit in with the Stepford-esque ladies under Dottie’s purview, and awkward square Vision accidentally fitting in with the guys of the watch.
What’s more, the set piece of the two of them trying to pull off a magic act at the local talent show, where Vision is functionally drunk due to some literal gum in the works, and Wanda has to work to make people think it isn’t magic, is fantastic. There’s a great, frantic energy to the whole routine, and both Olsen and Bettany play it to the hilt.
This was also a great episode for stray lines. The running gag of people chanting “For The Children” in unison brought a lot of yuks. The poor mustached man from the prior episode going “That was my grandmother’s piano” when Wanda turns it into a wooden standee was a solid laugh. And one of the housewives in the audience asking “Is that how mirror’s work?” when Wanda uses them to try to explain Vision’s phasing hat trick had me rolling in the aisles.
But it’s not all laughs. There’s more horror at the edge of the frame that’s done quite well. The presence of an airplane that’s visibly Iron Man’s colors seems to shock Wanda as revealing that something’s wrong here. When Wanda assures Dottie that she doesn’t mean any harm, Dottie says “I don’t believe you,” in genuinely frightened tones, while a strange voice cuts through the radio, causing her to break a glass and bleed fluid that likewise breaks through the black and white color scheme. It’s another superbly done unnerving moment.
There’s also some interesting lines that have double meanings that are quickly glossed over, like their new friend saying “I don’t know why I’m here,” seemingly referring to the garden party, but also suggesting she’s been wrapped into this fantasy world somehow and doesn’t know why. There’s a lot of little bits of dialogue that work like that in this one, and it’s fascinating.
We also see and hear some loud thumping, played for laughs in the “move the beds together” scene (another wink toward classic TV changes), but also witness it used for legitimate scares. There’s some frightening imagery when the man emerges from the sewers in a beekeeper outfit and more “Who’s doing this to you, Wanda?” calls are heard, especially when Wanda uses the power to rewind the tape. The advent of a pregnancy is an interesting development, and the arrival of color with their kiss is some great effects worth.
I’m nursing a theory that this is all part of Wanda coping with the loss of Vision, feeling sick or afflicted and unwittingly creating this fantasy world out of some kind of grief, wrapping more and more people into it. Whatever the answer, color me appropriately intrigued by the mystery, charmed by the pastiche, and appropriately disturbed at the hints of something deeply wrong with all of this.
[8.2/10] What a blast this is. I’m impressed both at how well WandaVision is able to replicate the 1950s sitcom vibe, especially for supernatural-themed comedies like Bewitched mixed with The Dick van Dyke show, while also including a subtle but palpable sense of existential terror beneath the three camera confines of the show.
I really enjoy how this first episode plays on the classic sitcom tropes: a couple not remembering an important date on the calendar, a wacky neighbor, a boss coming over for dinner who needs to be impressed. The show does a nice spin on them, while also feeling true to the sitcoms it’s paying homage to. I’m particularly stunned by the cast, who are able to replicate that acting style, and the editors and other behind the scenes craftsmen, who are able to replicate the rhythm, to such perfection.
What’s neat is that the episode works pretty perfectly separate and apart from its larger MCU connections as a solid old school sitcom pastiche. There’s a lot of nice setup and payoffs of gags, like Wanda repurposing a magazine's “Ways to please your man” article to distract her husband’s boss and his wife, or Vision singing “Yakety Yak” after decrying it earlier. Even the lobster door knocker routine was a fun and comical grace note to an earlier bit. As cornball as it is, there’s something charming about this sort of thing, right down to the “What do we actually do here?” gag about the computer company. And despite the light spoofing at play, this works as a solid meat and potatoes sitcom episode.
But the show goes a step further and has real fun with the fact that its leads are a self-described witch and a magical mechanical man respectively. There’s tons of amusing gags, starting with the intro, about the pair using their powers in trifling 1950s household sorts of ways. At the same time, it does well with the jokes about hiding their true identities. Vision writing off Wanda’s behavior as “European”, Wanda reassuring her neighbor that her husband is human, and Vision taking offense when a coworker tells him he’s a “walking computer” are all entertaining bits that make the most of the weird premise.
And yet, what really elevates this episode is the unnerving hints that there’s something terribly wrong going on here. It’s not hard to guess that after the events of Endgame, there’s still concerns about what happened to vision. The show plays with the melodic rhythms of the sitcom form to suggest something off at the edges here, in a really sharp way.
For instance, there’s an interstitial commercial featuring a Stark toaster, and not only does it feature the only bit of color in the black and white presentation with the beeping light, but the toasting takes just a beat too long for comfort. Likewise, the fact that Wanda and Vision can’t remember their story or how they got married is initially played for laughs, but then it becomes creepy when Mrs. Hart demands answers.
The peak of this comes when Mr. Hart chokes on his broccoli and the artifice freezes for a moment, leaving everyone paralyzed by the departure from how things work in this sort of situation. It’s a great piece of work, of a piece with the likes of Twin Peaks and Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared in its quiet horror.
I’ll refrain from speculating about who’s watching the broadcast we see or who’s in the monitoring room we seem to have an eye on, but the hints at what's really going on, and how that influences the images the audience witnesses, creates a great organic mystery and another layer to the proceedings.
Overall, this is a boffo debut for the series, and I’m excited to watch more!
Naito really struck me in certain scenes as a Japanese version of Marcus Kane (Henry Ian Cusick, The 100), for some reason. There was something about his facial structure & hairstyle that connected the two in my head.
Nice to see Eda-san is a good salesman, equally willing to dissuade his customer from purchasing as he is to encourage it if he believes the purchase wouldn't be in their best interest. That's true customer service!
He also keeps getting more creative with trying to make the time travel experience feel more special. Each time Eda comes up with another idea to try and make the whole experience feel properly commercial, it gets funnier. This latest thing with the safety video is hilarious, as thought he's trying to make it feel like an airplane.
I do wonder whether the restriction Eda mentioned—that the driver of the taxi can only repeat their previous actions, without changing them—is a regulation or a physical law. Strictly speaking, is he able to change his actions but forbidden from doing so, or is he bound by universal forces to repeat the same actions regardless of will? It would be an interesting subject to explore, but I doubt the drama will touch on that again in the three remaining episodes.
