We’re now seven episodes into the second season, and with the exception of the premiere, it’s been a marked improvement over the deeply flawed first year.
. There have been several tweaks to the cast and production, and for the most part, they all seem to be generally positive. The exception, though, is easily the character of Katherine Pulaski. While Diana Muldaur is certainly competent in the role, the character has so far been brash and unlikable, and that’s even without her open disdain of Data. It’s been a series of bad choices, and as I began the first Pulaski-centric episode, I have to admit to a fair amount of apprehension.
The Enterprise is responding to a distress call from the USS Lantree, and the cold open sees the crew rushing to the rescue. Unfortunately, when they discover the Lantree adrift in space, there are no life signs aboard. Not willing to risk the crew by beaming over, Picard uses his super secret captain’s password to take remote control of the Lantree, and they switch on the internal cameras. They discover that the entire crew is dead, and the cause of that death appears to be old age.
This isn’t a bad hook. Existing in a science fiction universe offers a myriad of possibilities, and the crew begins to narrow them down, performing some nifty detective work. They figure out that the Lantree recently visited a nearby medical research facility, so after posting a quarantine warning on the derelict ship, they make a beeline for the Darwin Genetic Research Station. Before they can arrive, they get another distress call from the research station, and discover that everyone there is aging at an astonishing rate. The lead researcher, Dr. Kingsley, is not asking for help for herself and her staff, however. She’s begging the Enterprise to evacuate the children that are the result of the facility’s research, insisting that they’ve been quarantined and could not be responsible for the aging disease.
Woven through all of this are scenes of Pulaski talking to Troi about how to best deal with Captain Picard. If there’s a major flaw in the A and B-storyline format that has come to define this show, it’s that one almost always suffers in comparison to the other. There’s a crazy aging disease and genetically engineered children, but we’re going to cut away to Pulaski whining that Picard doesn’t understand her. The scenes aren’t bad, per se, but they don’t really provide any necessary information. Pulaski soon gets to try out Troi’s advice (which consists of “talk to the captain”; thanks a lot, Counselor) when she argues that the Enterprise should indeed evacuate the children, despite the risk of passing along the infection to the 1,015 men, women, and children on this massive starship. Picard refuses, there’s some bickering, and finally, she convinces Picard to let her beam up one of the children, encased in Styrolite (transparent carbonite, really), so that she can see for herself if they’re infected. They all gather in sickbay, tell O’Brien to energize, and a fully-grown man materializes in the Styrolite.
These children, as it turns out, aren’t exactly regular children. They’ve been genetically engineered to mature quickly (if you think that’s the cause of this whole problem, I’m pleased to say that the writers were a lot cleverer than that), they’re telekinetic and telepathic, and, judging by the dude they beamed up, they’re all Calvin Klein underwear models. Pulaski runs her scans and pronounces the “child” the healthiest human being she’s ever seen. Picard is not convinced, so Pulaski, wanting to run a more thorough examination, asks permission for her and Data to take a shuttlecraft to just outside the ship, beam the genetically engineered beefcake aboard, and do the physical there in isolation. Picard begrudgingly agrees (the actual name of this episode should have been “Picard Begrudgingly Agrees”), Data and Pulaski beam the patient aboard, and moments later, Pulaski starts experiencing the painful first symptoms of the disease.
Pulaski and Data then go down to the research station, where they figure out the problem. Part of the perfect genetic engineering in these kids is a ruthless version of the immune system. If the children's immune system detects the slightest threat, it produces its version of an antibody: a tailor-made virus that destroys the source of the infection. One of the Lantree’s crew had the flu, the children’s immune system responded, and created a highly lethal and contagious virus that rapidly accelerated aging to destroy the host. Unfortunately, because the disease irrevocably alters the host’s DNA, there’s no cure, and no time to find one. Enter Geordi and O’Brien, who suggest that it might be possible to find an old DNA pattern of Pulaski, and send her through the transporter, rigging it to reassemble her molecules based on the early, healthy DNA. There’s a bit of a struggle to find sufficient DNA (Pulaski apparently hates the transporter and avoids it at all cost, depriving the crew of her transporter records), but eventually they find a hair in her quarters, O’Brien rigs the transporter, and it works.
Wait. So does that mean that any disease or injury can be fixed by just sending someone through the transporter and resetting to an earlier save point? Does that mean that the person that comes out of the transporter isn’t the person that went in? Why the hell was the Federation, which has concrete and inflexible laws banning genetic manipulation referenced in many episodes of nearly every different show, genetically engineering super kids? These are all excellent questions, and we will never speak of them again. Pulaski lives to demean Data another day.
Despite the many holes in the story and the fairly dull B-plot, this isn’t a bad episode. The resolution of what’s causing the disease is actually pretty clever, Data’s excellent in this episode as he calmly deals with Pulaski’s criticism, then works to help her when she gets sick. (Data probably would have made a terrific doctor. You can be an asshole to him all you want, he’s still going to sort you out just fine.) The episode’s not perfect, and I still don’t like Pulaski, but on the whole, the pros outweigh the cons. I’m hoping we’ll be getting to episodes soon where there’s more to say than, “Hey, it wasn’t as shitty as you might have thought!”
Wait, “Matter of Honor” is next? That didn’t take long.
. There have been several tweaks to the cast and production, and for the most part, they all seem to be generally positive. The exception, though, is easily the character of Katherine Pulaski. While Diana Muldaur is certainly competent in the role, the character has so far been brash and unlikable, and that’s even without her open disdain of Data. It’s been a series of bad choices, and as I began the first Pulaski-centric episode, I have to admit to a fair amount of apprehension.
The Enterprise is responding to a distress call from the USS Lantree, and the cold open sees the crew rushing to the rescue. Unfortunately, when they discover the Lantree adrift in space, there are no life signs aboard. Not willing to risk the crew by beaming over, Picard uses his super secret captain’s password to take remote control of the Lantree, and they switch on the internal cameras. They discover that the entire crew is dead, and the cause of that death appears to be old age.
This isn’t a bad hook. Existing in a science fiction universe offers a myriad of possibilities, and the crew begins to narrow them down, performing some nifty detective work. They figure out that the Lantree recently visited a nearby medical research facility, so after posting a quarantine warning on the derelict ship, they make a beeline for the Darwin Genetic Research Station. Before they can arrive, they get another distress call from the research station, and discover that everyone there is aging at an astonishing rate. The lead researcher, Dr. Kingsley, is not asking for help for herself and her staff, however. She’s begging the Enterprise to evacuate the children that are the result of the facility’s research, insisting that they’ve been quarantined and could not be responsible for the aging disease.
Woven through all of this are scenes of Pulaski talking to Troi about how to best deal with Captain Picard. If there’s a major flaw in the A and B-storyline format that has come to define this show, it’s that one almost always suffers in comparison to the other. There’s a crazy aging disease and genetically engineered children, but we’re going to cut away to Pulaski whining that Picard doesn’t understand her. The scenes aren’t bad, per se, but they don’t really provide any necessary information. Pulaski soon gets to try out Troi’s advice (which consists of “talk to the captain”; thanks a lot, Counselor) when she argues that the Enterprise should indeed evacuate the children, despite the risk of passing along the infection to the 1,015 men, women, and children on this massive starship. Picard refuses, there’s some bickering, and finally, she convinces Picard to let her beam up one of the children, encased in Styrolite (transparent carbonite, really), so that she can see for herself if they’re infected. They all gather in sickbay, tell O’Brien to energize, and a fully-grown man materializes in the Styrolite.
These children, as it turns out, aren’t exactly regular children. They’ve been genetically engineered to mature quickly (if you think that’s the cause of this whole problem, I’m pleased to say that the writers were a lot cleverer than that), they’re telekinetic and telepathic, and, judging by the dude they beamed up, they’re all Calvin Klein underwear models. Pulaski runs her scans and pronounces the “child” the healthiest human being she’s ever seen. Picard is not convinced, so Pulaski, wanting to run a more thorough examination, asks permission for her and Data to take a shuttlecraft to just outside the ship, beam the genetically engineered beefcake aboard, and do the physical there in isolation. Picard begrudgingly agrees (the actual name of this episode should have been “Picard Begrudgingly Agrees”), Data and Pulaski beam the patient aboard, and moments later, Pulaski starts experiencing the painful first symptoms of the disease.
Pulaski and Data then go down to the research station, where they figure out the problem. Part of the perfect genetic engineering in these kids is a ruthless version of the immune system. If the children's immune system detects the slightest threat, it produces its version of an antibody: a tailor-made virus that destroys the source of the infection. One of the Lantree’s crew had the flu, the children’s immune system responded, and created a highly lethal and contagious virus that rapidly accelerated aging to destroy the host. Unfortunately, because the disease irrevocably alters the host’s DNA, there’s no cure, and no time to find one. Enter Geordi and O’Brien, who suggest that it might be possible to find an old DNA pattern of Pulaski, and send her through the transporter, rigging it to reassemble her molecules based on the early, healthy DNA. There’s a bit of a struggle to find sufficient DNA (Pulaski apparently hates the transporter and avoids it at all cost, depriving the crew of her transporter records), but eventually they find a hair in her quarters, O’Brien rigs the transporter, and it works.
Wait. So does that mean that any disease or injury can be fixed by just sending someone through the transporter and resetting to an earlier save point? Does that mean that the person that comes out of the transporter isn’t the person that went in? Why the hell was the Federation, which has concrete and inflexible laws banning genetic manipulation referenced in many episodes of nearly every different show, genetically engineering super kids? These are all excellent questions, and we will never speak of them again. Pulaski lives to demean Data another day.
Despite the many holes in the story and the fairly dull B-plot, this isn’t a bad episode. The resolution of what’s causing the disease is actually pretty clever, Data’s excellent in this episode as he calmly deals with Pulaski’s criticism, then works to help her when she gets sick. (Data probably would have made a terrific doctor. You can be an asshole to him all you want, he’s still going to sort you out just fine.) The episode’s not perfect, and I still don’t like Pulaski, but on the whole, the pros outweigh the cons. I’m hoping we’ll be getting to episodes soon where there’s more to say than, “Hey, it wasn’t as shitty as you might have thought!”
Wait, “Matter of Honor” is next? That didn’t take long.
Hell. YES.
I knew that two episode from this season are regularly included in the top ten lists of TNG. I’m excited to get to “Measure of a Man” and “Q-Who”. They’re my reward, my compensation for struggling through “The Child” and nearly all of season one. But I’d forgotten that those aren’t the only gems in this season. “Matter of Honor” is a terrific hour of television, and the first episode of this show that shows us some of the best of this cast and crew.
Riker and Wesley are in the transporter room, welcoming some new crew members aboard. While most are permanent transfers, several are from other organizations, taking part in a new Starfleet exchange program. Wesley recognizes one, who he mistakes as Mordock, the Benzite who beat out Wesley for Academy admission in season one. Actually, all Benzites look alike (I’m not racist, I promise; it’s a genetic thing apparently), and this is Mendon, who quickly assures Riker that now that he’s here, he'll get the Enterprise running smoothly. Riker doesn’t have time to respond to this arrogant little junior officer, as Picard asks Riker to join him on the phaser range.
Picard is a big fan of the exchange program. He’s such a huge fan, as a matter of fact, that he wants to send Riker to serve temporarily on a Klingon ship. The scene at the phaser range is a lot of fun, with Picard tiptoeing around the issue, wanting Riker to volunteer but not wanting to force the issue. He needn't have worried. Riker is all about doing this, mostly because he’ll be the first human in history to serve on a Klingon ship.
This is a Riker episode, through and through, and while he hasn’t always worked for me as a character, this is a terrific example of finding the right plot to fit a specific character. Riker prepares for this with gleeful enthusiasm. He learns from Worf that one of the jobs of the first officer on a Klingon ship is to murder the captain if he ever slacks on the job, and it’s to the show’s credit that Riker doesn’t freak out at this fact, but instead, treats it as a cultural reality that he will need to adapt to, rather than forcing the Klingons to adapt to him. He goes to Ten-Forward, and feasts on Klingon foods with gusto, wanting to absorb as much of the new culture as possible. Everyone seems to have reservations about this assignment (even Worf, who gives Riker an emergency transponder to call for help if shit goes sideways), except for Riker, who never seems to doubt that this is going to be awesome.
Riker beams aboard the Klingon ship Pagh, and is escorted to the bridge by the ship’s second officer, Lt. Klag. (Yes, Klingon names are dumb. Moving on.) Klag is critical of Riker every step of the way to the bridge, and when they arrive, he calls Riker out as weak and disloyal in front of Captain Kargan, who grins and says it’s Riker’s first test as the Pagh’s new first officer. Riker sighs, considers the issue, and promptly beats the absolute shit out of Klag.
This is not a punch to the face, and Klag hits the deck. Riker pummels him, throws him to the floor, kicks him in the face when he tries to get up, and when he tries again, puts his face through a glass panel. It’s shockingly brutal for a show that avoids violence, and sets the tone for Riker’s interactions with the entire crew. TNG’s big weakness is that it assumes all too often that the galaxy would work fine if everyone just acted like humans. Here, Riker makes no attempt to talk to Klag, to hear out his concerns, and to teach him how to work with others. That’s what they do on the Enterprise, but Riker’s sure as shit not on the Enterprise, and he when in Rome’s that dude’s face through a damn wall.
There are so many places where this episode could have stumbled, and it still would have been pretty strong. Riker eats in the crew’s mess, and talks with the crew. The Klingons quickly establish themselves as much more complicated and three-dimensional than the show has ever let another culture be, and Riker approaches the situation by asking questions and never scoffing at their ways. When Klag (who likes Riker a lot more now that he knows he’s not a pushover) reveals that his father lives alone on the homeworld after being dishonored, there’s genuine pain and pathos there that’s handled in a subtle and effective manner. And when Riker is ordered to help the Pagh track down and destroy the Enterprise, the conflict Riker feels is portrayed extremely well.
Which brings us to the B-plot. I mentioned in the last review that often, the B-plot suffers when the main storyline is really compelling. This episode shows beautifully how to circumvent that problem. See, Mendon is eager to show how awesome he is at starship operations. When the Enterprise rendezvoused with the Pagh to beam Riker over, Mendon noticed a strange dirty spot on the Pagh’s hull. He scanned it with a sensor beam to get more information, but didn’t report it. As he explains later, Benzite captains insist that before receiving a report, the report includes all available information, as well as potential solutions. As such, Mendon continues his investigation without telling anyone of an issue, until that same dirt shows up on the Enterprise. It turns out that this is some kind of space bacteria that eats certain metals, such as those used in the hull of starships. This is bad, and while the crew figures out how to fix the problem, they quickly go after the Pagh to warn them of the situation.
Do you see the way these two plots inform one another? It’s not just that the same thing is happening to both ships, it’s the way they weave together. The Pagh doesn’t have the scientific sensors that the Enterprise does (exploratory vessel vs. warship), so the first indication that something is wrong comes when a section of the hull explosively decompresses. They realize that something is dissolving their hull, do a check to see what’s recently happened to that part of the hull, and find out that the Enterprise directed an energy beam at that precise spot, and didn’t tell the Pagh that they were doing it. To make matters worse, they detect the Enterprise on an intercept course. As the audience, we both know how wrong Captain Kargan’s assumption of hostile intent is, and exactly how he reached the conclusion. When he angrily decides to retaliate on the Enterprise, it fits perfectly in the way we would expect a Klingon warrior to react to an attack.
This episode just works so well. No one is doing anything unreasonable or inexplicable. We’re given enough understanding of all the different players, and the story crafts a perfect storm of confusion. Even Mendon’s error of not notifying the bridge crew when he found the space herpes on the Pagh makes sense in the light of his culture. It’s solid storytelling, good acting, and the resolution is excellent. Kargan demands that Riker tell him exactly how to destroy the much more powerful Enterprise, and is pleased with Riker refuses, promising him that for keeping true to his Starfleet oath, he’s earned the right to die with the rest of the Pagh (thanks?). Riker tries to convince Kargan that this must be a misunderstanding, and Klag even hesitantly argues for Kargan to wait, but Kargan refuses, and prepares to decloak and fire on the Enterprise. Before he does, he notices Riker pull the transponder from his boot, and demands to know what it is. Riker thumbs it on, hands it to Kargan, and the Enterprise (thinking they’re rescuing Riker), beams Kargan right onto their bridge.
Riker immediately assumes command of the Pagh. In a lesser episode, he decloaks the Pagh, hails the Enterprise, and they hash it out. But instead, Riker, sitting on the bridge of a Klingon ship, surrounded by Klingon warriors looking to him, doesn’t act like a Starfleet officer. He acts like the commanding officer of a Klingon warship. He decloaks, locks all weapons on the Enterprise, and demands their unconditional surrender. Picard, sitting on the bridge of a Starfleet ship, acts like the commanding officer of a Federation ship who trusts his first officer, and surrenders. Kargan goes back to his ship, backhands Riker across the jaw, and throws him off his ship. As Klag helps Riker to his feet, he says, “I think you understand us after all.”
Science fiction works not because of the crazy technology or strange aliens, but because of the ideas and characters that inhabit that world. Throughout the first season, this show failed to tell stories that actually stuck with us, that told us something new about our characters or a culture. “Matter of Honor” showed us more about what kind of officer and man Riker is in a single episode than the entire first season. It taught us about Klingon and Benzite culture in a way that wasn’t derisive or lazy, but helped flesh out this universe in an organic and compelling way. And it features one of the smartest scripts that the show has had so far. Yeah, I had to sit through a lot of garbage to get to this point, but now I’m genuinely glad I did.
A few other thoughts:
Next time, we keep the good times rolling with the iconic “The Measure of a Man”, and Wesley falls in love in “The Dauphin”. I guess three in a row was just being greedy.
- Dietrich Stogner
I knew that two episode from this season are regularly included in the top ten lists of TNG. I’m excited to get to “Measure of a Man” and “Q-Who”. They’re my reward, my compensation for struggling through “The Child” and nearly all of season one. But I’d forgotten that those aren’t the only gems in this season. “Matter of Honor” is a terrific hour of television, and the first episode of this show that shows us some of the best of this cast and crew.
Riker and Wesley are in the transporter room, welcoming some new crew members aboard. While most are permanent transfers, several are from other organizations, taking part in a new Starfleet exchange program. Wesley recognizes one, who he mistakes as Mordock, the Benzite who beat out Wesley for Academy admission in season one. Actually, all Benzites look alike (I’m not racist, I promise; it’s a genetic thing apparently), and this is Mendon, who quickly assures Riker that now that he’s here, he'll get the Enterprise running smoothly. Riker doesn’t have time to respond to this arrogant little junior officer, as Picard asks Riker to join him on the phaser range.
Picard is a big fan of the exchange program. He’s such a huge fan, as a matter of fact, that he wants to send Riker to serve temporarily on a Klingon ship. The scene at the phaser range is a lot of fun, with Picard tiptoeing around the issue, wanting Riker to volunteer but not wanting to force the issue. He needn't have worried. Riker is all about doing this, mostly because he’ll be the first human in history to serve on a Klingon ship.
This is a Riker episode, through and through, and while he hasn’t always worked for me as a character, this is a terrific example of finding the right plot to fit a specific character. Riker prepares for this with gleeful enthusiasm. He learns from Worf that one of the jobs of the first officer on a Klingon ship is to murder the captain if he ever slacks on the job, and it’s to the show’s credit that Riker doesn’t freak out at this fact, but instead, treats it as a cultural reality that he will need to adapt to, rather than forcing the Klingons to adapt to him. He goes to Ten-Forward, and feasts on Klingon foods with gusto, wanting to absorb as much of the new culture as possible. Everyone seems to have reservations about this assignment (even Worf, who gives Riker an emergency transponder to call for help if shit goes sideways), except for Riker, who never seems to doubt that this is going to be awesome.
Riker beams aboard the Klingon ship Pagh, and is escorted to the bridge by the ship’s second officer, Lt. Klag. (Yes, Klingon names are dumb. Moving on.) Klag is critical of Riker every step of the way to the bridge, and when they arrive, he calls Riker out as weak and disloyal in front of Captain Kargan, who grins and says it’s Riker’s first test as the Pagh’s new first officer. Riker sighs, considers the issue, and promptly beats the absolute shit out of Klag.
This is not a punch to the face, and Klag hits the deck. Riker pummels him, throws him to the floor, kicks him in the face when he tries to get up, and when he tries again, puts his face through a glass panel. It’s shockingly brutal for a show that avoids violence, and sets the tone for Riker’s interactions with the entire crew. TNG’s big weakness is that it assumes all too often that the galaxy would work fine if everyone just acted like humans. Here, Riker makes no attempt to talk to Klag, to hear out his concerns, and to teach him how to work with others. That’s what they do on the Enterprise, but Riker’s sure as shit not on the Enterprise, and he when in Rome’s that dude’s face through a damn wall.
There are so many places where this episode could have stumbled, and it still would have been pretty strong. Riker eats in the crew’s mess, and talks with the crew. The Klingons quickly establish themselves as much more complicated and three-dimensional than the show has ever let another culture be, and Riker approaches the situation by asking questions and never scoffing at their ways. When Klag (who likes Riker a lot more now that he knows he’s not a pushover) reveals that his father lives alone on the homeworld after being dishonored, there’s genuine pain and pathos there that’s handled in a subtle and effective manner. And when Riker is ordered to help the Pagh track down and destroy the Enterprise, the conflict Riker feels is portrayed extremely well.
Which brings us to the B-plot. I mentioned in the last review that often, the B-plot suffers when the main storyline is really compelling. This episode shows beautifully how to circumvent that problem. See, Mendon is eager to show how awesome he is at starship operations. When the Enterprise rendezvoused with the Pagh to beam Riker over, Mendon noticed a strange dirty spot on the Pagh’s hull. He scanned it with a sensor beam to get more information, but didn’t report it. As he explains later, Benzite captains insist that before receiving a report, the report includes all available information, as well as potential solutions. As such, Mendon continues his investigation without telling anyone of an issue, until that same dirt shows up on the Enterprise. It turns out that this is some kind of space bacteria that eats certain metals, such as those used in the hull of starships. This is bad, and while the crew figures out how to fix the problem, they quickly go after the Pagh to warn them of the situation.
Do you see the way these two plots inform one another? It’s not just that the same thing is happening to both ships, it’s the way they weave together. The Pagh doesn’t have the scientific sensors that the Enterprise does (exploratory vessel vs. warship), so the first indication that something is wrong comes when a section of the hull explosively decompresses. They realize that something is dissolving their hull, do a check to see what’s recently happened to that part of the hull, and find out that the Enterprise directed an energy beam at that precise spot, and didn’t tell the Pagh that they were doing it. To make matters worse, they detect the Enterprise on an intercept course. As the audience, we both know how wrong Captain Kargan’s assumption of hostile intent is, and exactly how he reached the conclusion. When he angrily decides to retaliate on the Enterprise, it fits perfectly in the way we would expect a Klingon warrior to react to an attack.
This episode just works so well. No one is doing anything unreasonable or inexplicable. We’re given enough understanding of all the different players, and the story crafts a perfect storm of confusion. Even Mendon’s error of not notifying the bridge crew when he found the space herpes on the Pagh makes sense in the light of his culture. It’s solid storytelling, good acting, and the resolution is excellent. Kargan demands that Riker tell him exactly how to destroy the much more powerful Enterprise, and is pleased with Riker refuses, promising him that for keeping true to his Starfleet oath, he’s earned the right to die with the rest of the Pagh (thanks?). Riker tries to convince Kargan that this must be a misunderstanding, and Klag even hesitantly argues for Kargan to wait, but Kargan refuses, and prepares to decloak and fire on the Enterprise. Before he does, he notices Riker pull the transponder from his boot, and demands to know what it is. Riker thumbs it on, hands it to Kargan, and the Enterprise (thinking they’re rescuing Riker), beams Kargan right onto their bridge.
Riker immediately assumes command of the Pagh. In a lesser episode, he decloaks the Pagh, hails the Enterprise, and they hash it out. But instead, Riker, sitting on the bridge of a Klingon ship, surrounded by Klingon warriors looking to him, doesn’t act like a Starfleet officer. He acts like the commanding officer of a Klingon warship. He decloaks, locks all weapons on the Enterprise, and demands their unconditional surrender. Picard, sitting on the bridge of a Starfleet ship, acts like the commanding officer of a Federation ship who trusts his first officer, and surrenders. Kargan goes back to his ship, backhands Riker across the jaw, and throws him off his ship. As Klag helps Riker to his feet, he says, “I think you understand us after all.”
Science fiction works not because of the crazy technology or strange aliens, but because of the ideas and characters that inhabit that world. Throughout the first season, this show failed to tell stories that actually stuck with us, that told us something new about our characters or a culture. “Matter of Honor” showed us more about what kind of officer and man Riker is in a single episode than the entire first season. It taught us about Klingon and Benzite culture in a way that wasn’t derisive or lazy, but helped flesh out this universe in an organic and compelling way. And it features one of the smartest scripts that the show has had so far. Yeah, I had to sit through a lot of garbage to get to this point, but now I’m genuinely glad I did.
A few other thoughts:
- “Matter of Honor” really does sell the benefit of an officer exchange program. I like the show acknowledging that humanity has something to learn from other cultures, rather than swooping in and teaching those foolish aliens how to be.
- “Unnatural Selection” gives Colm Meaney much more to do than he has ever before. This show had several background characters that occasionally stepped in, but O’Brien was always the most effective. Later on, he gets an entire episode revolving around his past, and he was pulled to be a main cast member on Deep Space Nine.
- The old person makeup hasn’t gotten any better since the first season. Pulaski as old lady looks like someone just piled Silly Putty all over her mug.
Next time, we keep the good times rolling with the iconic “The Measure of a Man”, and Wesley falls in love in “The Dauphin”. I guess three in a row was just being greedy.
- Dietrich Stogner
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