One relic of 1980's television that seems to have vanished is the Very Special Episode, an episode of television that promises to tackle a controversial topic. Normally the province of sitcoms, this phenomenon gave us Jessie from Saved by the Bell collapsing in tears over her addiction to caffeine pills (I would have watched the SHIT out of that episode if it had been PCP instead), Sesame Street explaining to children why Mr. Hooper had dropped dead, and the comedy Diff’rent Strokes tackling such hilarious topics as pedophilia, child pornography, racism, drunk driving, sexual assault, and holy shit, that show was kind of fucked up.
Star Trek as a franchise has definitely tackled complex social issues. However, it's generally presented as an allegory. Clumsily, sometimes, but there’s never a parent figure that gets down on one knee and explains why Gordon Jump tried to molest Arnold in a bicycle shop (seriously, what the hell?!). That’s what makes “Symbiosis” so bizarre. 90% of the episode is a classic science fiction allegory story, and for the most part, works fairly well. But there’s also the scene where Nancy Reagan unzips Denise Crosby’s skin suit, crawls inside, and bemoans the evils of drug abuse to Wesley, who learns the importance of Just Saying No.
“Symbiosis” kicks off with the Enterprise studying a star that’s having some serious magnetic activity. Right off the bat, systems on the Enterprise are shorting out, the shields are flashing and sparking, and Picard is having to reassure his crew that no, they aren’t about to all die. They get a distress call from a ship that’s about to crash into the atmosphere of a nearby world, and rush to the rescue, but the star’s activity is playing merry hell with the transporters. Picard and Riker try to walk the ship’s captain through making the extremely basic repairs needed to not die horribly, but he seems distracted and clueless. Finally, a frustrated Picard orders Yar to run down to the transporter room to pull the six passengers off. Yar tells them to get on their transporter platform so she can link the two to get past the interference. They tell her they’re ready, she energizes the transporter, and a cluster of barrels show up instead of any of the passengers. Yar tries again, but two of the freighter’s crew don’t make it.
There’s a lot to unpack in that introduction, and the realization that the crew was more concerned with their cargo than their lives is immediately intriguing. Two of the four survivors are Onarans, and are dirty, disheveled, and extremely agitated. The other two are Brekkians, and are well dressed (or as well dressed as any alien gets in this first season), verbose, and smiling ear to ear. They all demand to see the cargo, and begin arguing immediately as to who owns the barrels. The Onarans claim that they paid for it, the Brekkians point out that the payment was on the freighter that just blew up, and they come to blows before Yar and Riker break them up. (Yes, I know they were zapping each other with electrical powers. It was dumb. The story works just as well if they just throw an old-fashioned punch.)
Picard finally sits them down, and discovers the problem. The cargo is full of felecium, the only known medicine for a plague infecting every single Onaran. The Onaran economy produces all kinds of stuff: food, technology, etc. The Brekkian economy produces precisely one thing: felecium. The two worlds are dependent on each other. Onara provides Brekka with everything they need in exchange for the medicine. More than what they need, in fact. The Brekkians are clearly wealthy, well educated, and the picture of health, while the Onarans are poverty-stricken and desperate. The Onarans claim that without the shipment, their people are doomed, and the Brekkians point out that the shipment represents a year’s worth of production, and they GOTS to get paid. But it isn’t until Picard convinces the Brekkians to give the two Onarans on board a single dose to ease their suffering that Crusher figures out what’s really going on.
There is no plague. Sure, there was one a few hundred years ago, and yes, felecium was the cure. But it was a true cure, eradicating the plague fairly quickly. But felecium also has strong addictive qualities, and withdrawal causes symptoms similar to the plague itself. As felicium could only be cultivated on Brekka, the Brekkians saw an opportunity. They dedicated their entire world’s industry towards finding new ways to refine and purify felecium, and allowed the Onarans to believe that felecium was the only thing keeping them alive. Crusher tells Picard that’s bullshit. If the Onarans stop taking the felecium, they’ll have a few horrible weeks of withdrawal, but then the addiction will be gone, and they’ll no longer need felecium. When the Brekkians suddenly announce that they’re going to give the felecium shipment to the Onarans free of charge, it becomes clear that they know exactly what’s going on, and the solution seems clear. Only problem? The Prime Directive.
This is the third episode so far to deal with the ramifications of the Prime Directive, and the first to really address the idea of sticking to this philosophy even when you really don’t want to. Picard has no actual proof that telling the Onarans what’s up would damage their society, and when Crusher says she can synthesize a non-addictive chemical to help with the withdrawal symptoms (Cosmic Methadone is the name of my soon-to-be-formed punk band), it seems like an obvious solution. The Brekkians are dicks, the Onarans are being lied to, and with a few replicator commands, the Enterprise can strut away as heroes. But, as Picard points out, that’s rarely how it actually happens. The Prime Directive is there for a reason. When an advanced culture decides to interfere with a less-advanced culture, shit breaks bad. Always. Picard’s arguments with Crusher in this episode are very strong, showing a man who truly believes in this philosophy, and will not yield just because this time it seems harmless.
Picard’s solution to this problem is actually fairly slick. The Onarans only have two other ships they can use to conduct trade between the two worlds (apparently, the Brekkians don’t have any), and they’re both inoperative because the star’s activity trashed their power coils. Early in the episode, Picard offers to give them replacements, because why the hell not. But as the grateful Onarans and the smug Brekkians prepare to leave, Picard calmly informs them that as they don’t know how to build replacement power coils anymore, giving them the coils would be interfering in their society, so it’s not going to happen. Without the coils, they have no ships, and without the ships, this batch of felecium is the last they’ll ever receive.
This is fairly cold-blooded, and tells us a lot about Picard’s character. He has the means to ease this transition for the Onarans, but he won’t interfere in that manner. He could tell the Onarans that he’s actually doing them a favor, but he won’t interfere in that manner. Instead, he condemns an entire planet to weeks of agony, weeks where every man, woman, and child on that planet will believe that Jean-Luc Picard has doomed their civilization. Picard knows this, and never blinks.
If my review ended here, this episode would be up there with “Heart of Glory” as one of the highlights of this season. But I can’t stop here, because I’m skipping three minutes. Three minutes where Wesley, with a vacuous expression on his face, asks, “Gee golly, if drugs are so bad, why do people do them?” Three minutes where Yar wisely and kindly tells him that drugs feel good, but they really aren’t. Three minutes missing only the sparkles and sound of a "The More You Know" banner floating across the bridge. Three awful, badly acted, shoehorned in, shitty minutes that taint the entire goddamn episode. And yes, that’s irritating. It’s like someone cooking you a delicious, wonderful Thanksgiving meal, then taking a dump on the stuffing. Sure, you could eat around it, but in reality, you dump that plate in the outside garbage can, flip off your host, and leave their home forever.
This show doesn’t need Very Special Episodes. It has the capability to make us think about issues without literally lecturing us. The only reason to include that scene is a lack of confidence in the writers and a lack of confidence in the audience. You’ve just seen an entire population reduced to poverty and abject servitude due to narcotics. But since you’re clearly a fucking idiot, here’s Tasha Yar to spell it out for you like you’re in a middle school DARE assembly. And to add insult to injury, that’s one of the last things that Tasha Yar will ever do on this show. What a waste.
Star Trek as a franchise has definitely tackled complex social issues. However, it's generally presented as an allegory. Clumsily, sometimes, but there’s never a parent figure that gets down on one knee and explains why Gordon Jump tried to molest Arnold in a bicycle shop (seriously, what the hell?!). That’s what makes “Symbiosis” so bizarre. 90% of the episode is a classic science fiction allegory story, and for the most part, works fairly well. But there’s also the scene where Nancy Reagan unzips Denise Crosby’s skin suit, crawls inside, and bemoans the evils of drug abuse to Wesley, who learns the importance of Just Saying No.
“Symbiosis” kicks off with the Enterprise studying a star that’s having some serious magnetic activity. Right off the bat, systems on the Enterprise are shorting out, the shields are flashing and sparking, and Picard is having to reassure his crew that no, they aren’t about to all die. They get a distress call from a ship that’s about to crash into the atmosphere of a nearby world, and rush to the rescue, but the star’s activity is playing merry hell with the transporters. Picard and Riker try to walk the ship’s captain through making the extremely basic repairs needed to not die horribly, but he seems distracted and clueless. Finally, a frustrated Picard orders Yar to run down to the transporter room to pull the six passengers off. Yar tells them to get on their transporter platform so she can link the two to get past the interference. They tell her they’re ready, she energizes the transporter, and a cluster of barrels show up instead of any of the passengers. Yar tries again, but two of the freighter’s crew don’t make it.
There’s a lot to unpack in that introduction, and the realization that the crew was more concerned with their cargo than their lives is immediately intriguing. Two of the four survivors are Onarans, and are dirty, disheveled, and extremely agitated. The other two are Brekkians, and are well dressed (or as well dressed as any alien gets in this first season), verbose, and smiling ear to ear. They all demand to see the cargo, and begin arguing immediately as to who owns the barrels. The Onarans claim that they paid for it, the Brekkians point out that the payment was on the freighter that just blew up, and they come to blows before Yar and Riker break them up. (Yes, I know they were zapping each other with electrical powers. It was dumb. The story works just as well if they just throw an old-fashioned punch.)
Picard finally sits them down, and discovers the problem. The cargo is full of felecium, the only known medicine for a plague infecting every single Onaran. The Onaran economy produces all kinds of stuff: food, technology, etc. The Brekkian economy produces precisely one thing: felecium. The two worlds are dependent on each other. Onara provides Brekka with everything they need in exchange for the medicine. More than what they need, in fact. The Brekkians are clearly wealthy, well educated, and the picture of health, while the Onarans are poverty-stricken and desperate. The Onarans claim that without the shipment, their people are doomed, and the Brekkians point out that the shipment represents a year’s worth of production, and they GOTS to get paid. But it isn’t until Picard convinces the Brekkians to give the two Onarans on board a single dose to ease their suffering that Crusher figures out what’s really going on.
There is no plague. Sure, there was one a few hundred years ago, and yes, felecium was the cure. But it was a true cure, eradicating the plague fairly quickly. But felecium also has strong addictive qualities, and withdrawal causes symptoms similar to the plague itself. As felicium could only be cultivated on Brekka, the Brekkians saw an opportunity. They dedicated their entire world’s industry towards finding new ways to refine and purify felecium, and allowed the Onarans to believe that felecium was the only thing keeping them alive. Crusher tells Picard that’s bullshit. If the Onarans stop taking the felecium, they’ll have a few horrible weeks of withdrawal, but then the addiction will be gone, and they’ll no longer need felecium. When the Brekkians suddenly announce that they’re going to give the felecium shipment to the Onarans free of charge, it becomes clear that they know exactly what’s going on, and the solution seems clear. Only problem? The Prime Directive.
This is the third episode so far to deal with the ramifications of the Prime Directive, and the first to really address the idea of sticking to this philosophy even when you really don’t want to. Picard has no actual proof that telling the Onarans what’s up would damage their society, and when Crusher says she can synthesize a non-addictive chemical to help with the withdrawal symptoms (Cosmic Methadone is the name of my soon-to-be-formed punk band), it seems like an obvious solution. The Brekkians are dicks, the Onarans are being lied to, and with a few replicator commands, the Enterprise can strut away as heroes. But, as Picard points out, that’s rarely how it actually happens. The Prime Directive is there for a reason. When an advanced culture decides to interfere with a less-advanced culture, shit breaks bad. Always. Picard’s arguments with Crusher in this episode are very strong, showing a man who truly believes in this philosophy, and will not yield just because this time it seems harmless.
Picard’s solution to this problem is actually fairly slick. The Onarans only have two other ships they can use to conduct trade between the two worlds (apparently, the Brekkians don’t have any), and they’re both inoperative because the star’s activity trashed their power coils. Early in the episode, Picard offers to give them replacements, because why the hell not. But as the grateful Onarans and the smug Brekkians prepare to leave, Picard calmly informs them that as they don’t know how to build replacement power coils anymore, giving them the coils would be interfering in their society, so it’s not going to happen. Without the coils, they have no ships, and without the ships, this batch of felecium is the last they’ll ever receive.
This is fairly cold-blooded, and tells us a lot about Picard’s character. He has the means to ease this transition for the Onarans, but he won’t interfere in that manner. He could tell the Onarans that he’s actually doing them a favor, but he won’t interfere in that manner. Instead, he condemns an entire planet to weeks of agony, weeks where every man, woman, and child on that planet will believe that Jean-Luc Picard has doomed their civilization. Picard knows this, and never blinks.
If my review ended here, this episode would be up there with “Heart of Glory” as one of the highlights of this season. But I can’t stop here, because I’m skipping three minutes. Three minutes where Wesley, with a vacuous expression on his face, asks, “Gee golly, if drugs are so bad, why do people do them?” Three minutes where Yar wisely and kindly tells him that drugs feel good, but they really aren’t. Three minutes missing only the sparkles and sound of a "The More You Know" banner floating across the bridge. Three awful, badly acted, shoehorned in, shitty minutes that taint the entire goddamn episode. And yes, that’s irritating. It’s like someone cooking you a delicious, wonderful Thanksgiving meal, then taking a dump on the stuffing. Sure, you could eat around it, but in reality, you dump that plate in the outside garbage can, flip off your host, and leave their home forever.
This show doesn’t need Very Special Episodes. It has the capability to make us think about issues without literally lecturing us. The only reason to include that scene is a lack of confidence in the writers and a lack of confidence in the audience. You’ve just seen an entire population reduced to poverty and abject servitude due to narcotics. But since you’re clearly a fucking idiot, here’s Tasha Yar to spell it out for you like you’re in a middle school DARE assembly. And to add insult to injury, that’s one of the last things that Tasha Yar will ever do on this show. What a waste.
Which brings us to Tasha Yar, doesn't it?.
At this point in the show, the cast is beginning to click. Picard is still the core of the show (and arguably the only character that is absolutely irreplaceable), but Riker is beginning to demonstrate an easy rapport and professionalism that’s making him a solid addition to any episode. Geordi has had a few turns at command, and is just different enough that we’re still interested. Data has established himself quickly in the space that Leonard Nimoy defined in the original series. Wesley might be annoying, but he (mostly) works with the crew, particularly when they avoid the wunderkind concept. Crusher hasn’t really had a lot to do yet, but she plays her role with the kind of easy skill that makes her a reliable supporting player. Worf is the shit, and I will fight you if you say otherwise. Really, there are only two major weak points in the cast right now: Deanna Troi and Tasha Yar. Troi will take a while to have a decent episode focused around her, but she’s fairly well established in this world, and clearly isn’t going anywhere. But Tasha Yar is a problem. She feels like an ancillary character, one who's been superfluous to every episode.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the two characters that are having serious issues are female. This show has already struggled pretty seriously with its portrayal of women (I’m looking at you, “Code of Honor”), and when the highlight of the three female leads is “Crusher isn’t that bad”, there’s clearly an issue. The simple fact is that the male characters have gotten stories that highlight their ingenuity and expertise. So far, Troi’s been a helpless victim, Tasha’s gotten abducted by a black man, and Crusher has spent every opportunity defining herself less as a doctor and more as a mother. All things considered, I’m not that surprised that Denise Crosby made the decision to leave the show. I just wish her exit had some substance. Instead, “Skin of Evil” is a weak episode that just feels pointless.
Troi went to a conference. (I actually quite like the idea of space conferences. I imagine a floating orbital Motel 6 Hotel and Convention Center, a cheap buffet, the same red and white name tags as we use now, the whole nine yards.) We don’t get to see the conference, though, because she’s already on her way back in one of the Enterprise’s shuttlecraft. Before the Enterprise can pick her up, though, they get a distress call, and listen in horror as the pilot reports that they’re going down. The warp drive is down for repairs, and Chief Engineer Leland T. Lynch (who introduces himself like that in every single communication) has to scramble to get things up and running again. They arrive on the planet, and Riker, Yar, and Data beam down when they can’t seem to transport Troi and Pilot Redshirt back up to the ship. Between them and the shuttle wreckage, however, is what looks like a pool of oil. When they try to walk around it, it flows to block them. After a moment of this, a figure emerges from the slick, and introduces himself as Armus.
Armus is a shit villain. The special effects are just bad (notably, the designers who built the Armus costume neglected to install a breathing tube, so all of the shots had to be very quick so the actor inside the suit didn’t suffocate), and any time the oil slick moves, it looks absolutely awful. I could have handled that if he didn’t talk and sound like a bad guy from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, though. Everything about him is laughable, and that’s a problem. When the away team asks Armus if they can pass, he says no. Yar tries to walk around him, and Armus kills her.
I know that description is abrupt. But it fits the scene. Armus isn’t really threatening, even though he’s presented as a threat. He’s not frightening, even though the music is clearly telling us that he’s scary. He murders a member of the main cast, and he still doesn’t feel intimidating. Hell, he could have iced Data and Riker too, and still, Armus would have seemed kind of silly. That doesn’t work. The death of a main character should be momentous, and should have weight. It should shock the audience, and seriously disrupt the status quo. This? It’s just a thing that happens.
Riker and Data bring Yar’s body back up to the Enterprise, where Crusher tries and fails to resuscitate her. There’s a fairly solid scene in the conference room where everyone is arguing at once about why this happened. Picard quietly tells them that they have to set their grief aside until they’ve rescued Troi and Pilot redshirt, and tells Worf that he’s now acting chief of security. Michael Dorn and Patrick Stewart both do an excellent job in this scene, with each expressing grief, rage, and shock without ever elevating their voice or spelling it out for the audience.
Picard sends Riker, Crusher, Data, and Geordi back down to try to figure out a way to deal with Armus. Meanwhile, Armus has been taunting and sneering at Troi. When she isn’t whiny enough for his taste, he drags Riker into the oil slick, pulling him under the surface. Not going to lie: I remember this scene scaring the SHIT out of me when I was a kid. As an adult, it’s still pretty goddamn freaky.
Eventually, Picard comes down to the planet. He treats Armus more like a petulant child than an actual threat. (This should be a good moment, showing Picard’s icy demeanor in the face of danger, but just reinforces how silly and pointless Armus is as a villain.) He somehow convinces Armus to release Riker and let him speak to Troi, and with her help, the crew figures out that when Armus has to confront his rage at being abandoned… Oh, yeah. Apparently some really awesome aliens got rid of all of their evil and nasty emotions, and left to go be super chill in the galaxy. Armus is what they got rid of. Yes, it’s fucking stupid. Moving along. When Armus confronts this rage, his strength dips, and they might be able to get through the field he’s creating to beam the survivors up. Picard spends a few minutes making Armus super mad, the field drops, and they all get beamed up.
This episode was already a failure at this point, but it really stumbles with the final scene. Gathering on the holodeck, a image of Tasha says a personal goodbye to each member of the crew. The problem is that none of it is actually personal. It’s simply the image of Tasha saying all of the things that we as the audience are supposed to like about each character. Picard’s inspirational, Riker is funny, Geordi “sees the world in a different way”, Data is childlike, Wesley has promise, Worf is a warrior, blah blah BLAH.
Look, the real problem with “Skin of Evil” is that it’s just pointless. Yar dies in a completely forgettable way to a completely forgettable villain before saying goodbye in a completely forgettable manner. Her death is just like her life on this show: uninteresting and bland. I don’t blame Denise Crosby for this. In fact, one of the best episodes in this series (the spectacular "Yesterday's Enterprise in season 3) features her in a way that she never got during her brief run as a main character. This season is trending upwards, and I know that this show gets better in how it portrays its female characters (for the most part). But this was a waste, and that’s really disappointing.
A few more thoughts:
Next time, we meet an old flame of Picard’s in “We’ll Always Have Paris”, and we get to watch the episode that scared me worse as a kid than Riker drowning in oil with “Conspiracy”. Seriously. My mom reminded me last week that I didn’t sleep that night, and couldn’t eat breakfast the next day. I’m kind of excited.
- Dietrich Stogner
At this point in the show, the cast is beginning to click. Picard is still the core of the show (and arguably the only character that is absolutely irreplaceable), but Riker is beginning to demonstrate an easy rapport and professionalism that’s making him a solid addition to any episode. Geordi has had a few turns at command, and is just different enough that we’re still interested. Data has established himself quickly in the space that Leonard Nimoy defined in the original series. Wesley might be annoying, but he (mostly) works with the crew, particularly when they avoid the wunderkind concept. Crusher hasn’t really had a lot to do yet, but she plays her role with the kind of easy skill that makes her a reliable supporting player. Worf is the shit, and I will fight you if you say otherwise. Really, there are only two major weak points in the cast right now: Deanna Troi and Tasha Yar. Troi will take a while to have a decent episode focused around her, but she’s fairly well established in this world, and clearly isn’t going anywhere. But Tasha Yar is a problem. She feels like an ancillary character, one who's been superfluous to every episode.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the two characters that are having serious issues are female. This show has already struggled pretty seriously with its portrayal of women (I’m looking at you, “Code of Honor”), and when the highlight of the three female leads is “Crusher isn’t that bad”, there’s clearly an issue. The simple fact is that the male characters have gotten stories that highlight their ingenuity and expertise. So far, Troi’s been a helpless victim, Tasha’s gotten abducted by a black man, and Crusher has spent every opportunity defining herself less as a doctor and more as a mother. All things considered, I’m not that surprised that Denise Crosby made the decision to leave the show. I just wish her exit had some substance. Instead, “Skin of Evil” is a weak episode that just feels pointless.
Troi went to a conference. (I actually quite like the idea of space conferences. I imagine a floating orbital Motel 6 Hotel and Convention Center, a cheap buffet, the same red and white name tags as we use now, the whole nine yards.) We don’t get to see the conference, though, because she’s already on her way back in one of the Enterprise’s shuttlecraft. Before the Enterprise can pick her up, though, they get a distress call, and listen in horror as the pilot reports that they’re going down. The warp drive is down for repairs, and Chief Engineer Leland T. Lynch (who introduces himself like that in every single communication) has to scramble to get things up and running again. They arrive on the planet, and Riker, Yar, and Data beam down when they can’t seem to transport Troi and Pilot Redshirt back up to the ship. Between them and the shuttle wreckage, however, is what looks like a pool of oil. When they try to walk around it, it flows to block them. After a moment of this, a figure emerges from the slick, and introduces himself as Armus.
Armus is a shit villain. The special effects are just bad (notably, the designers who built the Armus costume neglected to install a breathing tube, so all of the shots had to be very quick so the actor inside the suit didn’t suffocate), and any time the oil slick moves, it looks absolutely awful. I could have handled that if he didn’t talk and sound like a bad guy from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, though. Everything about him is laughable, and that’s a problem. When the away team asks Armus if they can pass, he says no. Yar tries to walk around him, and Armus kills her.
I know that description is abrupt. But it fits the scene. Armus isn’t really threatening, even though he’s presented as a threat. He’s not frightening, even though the music is clearly telling us that he’s scary. He murders a member of the main cast, and he still doesn’t feel intimidating. Hell, he could have iced Data and Riker too, and still, Armus would have seemed kind of silly. That doesn’t work. The death of a main character should be momentous, and should have weight. It should shock the audience, and seriously disrupt the status quo. This? It’s just a thing that happens.
Riker and Data bring Yar’s body back up to the Enterprise, where Crusher tries and fails to resuscitate her. There’s a fairly solid scene in the conference room where everyone is arguing at once about why this happened. Picard quietly tells them that they have to set their grief aside until they’ve rescued Troi and Pilot redshirt, and tells Worf that he’s now acting chief of security. Michael Dorn and Patrick Stewart both do an excellent job in this scene, with each expressing grief, rage, and shock without ever elevating their voice or spelling it out for the audience.
Picard sends Riker, Crusher, Data, and Geordi back down to try to figure out a way to deal with Armus. Meanwhile, Armus has been taunting and sneering at Troi. When she isn’t whiny enough for his taste, he drags Riker into the oil slick, pulling him under the surface. Not going to lie: I remember this scene scaring the SHIT out of me when I was a kid. As an adult, it’s still pretty goddamn freaky.
Eventually, Picard comes down to the planet. He treats Armus more like a petulant child than an actual threat. (This should be a good moment, showing Picard’s icy demeanor in the face of danger, but just reinforces how silly and pointless Armus is as a villain.) He somehow convinces Armus to release Riker and let him speak to Troi, and with her help, the crew figures out that when Armus has to confront his rage at being abandoned… Oh, yeah. Apparently some really awesome aliens got rid of all of their evil and nasty emotions, and left to go be super chill in the galaxy. Armus is what they got rid of. Yes, it’s fucking stupid. Moving along. When Armus confronts this rage, his strength dips, and they might be able to get through the field he’s creating to beam the survivors up. Picard spends a few minutes making Armus super mad, the field drops, and they all get beamed up.
This episode was already a failure at this point, but it really stumbles with the final scene. Gathering on the holodeck, a image of Tasha says a personal goodbye to each member of the crew. The problem is that none of it is actually personal. It’s simply the image of Tasha saying all of the things that we as the audience are supposed to like about each character. Picard’s inspirational, Riker is funny, Geordi “sees the world in a different way”, Data is childlike, Wesley has promise, Worf is a warrior, blah blah BLAH.
Look, the real problem with “Skin of Evil” is that it’s just pointless. Yar dies in a completely forgettable way to a completely forgettable villain before saying goodbye in a completely forgettable manner. Her death is just like her life on this show: uninteresting and bland. I don’t blame Denise Crosby for this. In fact, one of the best episodes in this series (the spectacular "Yesterday's Enterprise in season 3) features her in a way that she never got during her brief run as a main character. This season is trending upwards, and I know that this show gets better in how it portrays its female characters (for the most part). But this was a waste, and that’s really disappointing.
A few more thoughts:
- One of the Onarans is played by Merrick Butrick, who played James T. Kirk’s son in several Star Trek films. Apparently, Butrick, who suffered from AIDS, had lost his insurance. When the producers learned of that fact, they wrote into the script a second Onaran so that they could get him insurance to pay for his treatment. He passed away a year later.
- I’ve been trying to find out if TNG announced that they were going to kill a main character on the “Next time, on Star Trek: The Next Generation…” I remember seeing several shows pull that stunt to try to bring in viewers. I haven’t found an answer yet, so if anyone reading this remembers, let me know.
- I realize I was pretty frustrated with both of these episodes. I promise, I really do like this show. But at this point, the warts should be gone, and we should be seeing a marked increase in quality. We aren’t at the point of consistently good episodes yet where we can laugh at the bad ones, so when there are two episodes in a row that have all the potential to do something well, and stumble so badly, I get irritated. I think I’m just ready to be done with season 1.
Next time, we meet an old flame of Picard’s in “We’ll Always Have Paris”, and we get to watch the episode that scared me worse as a kid than Riker drowning in oil with “Conspiracy”. Seriously. My mom reminded me last week that I didn’t sleep that night, and couldn’t eat breakfast the next day. I’m kind of excited.
- Dietrich Stogner
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