Ruk-roh! Picard finale speculation

Next week will be the season finale of Picard (!!!!!), set up by a twisty "Et In Arcadia Ego part 1," in which we meet Dr. Altan Inigo Soong, son of Data-daddy Dr. Noonian Soong. Brent Spiner is great as Data, but because Data is so gentle (as Picard rightly says), Spiner is even more fun to watch chewing the scenery as Lore or as a Soong (Arik Soong in Enterprise was fabulous).

Soong the younger reveals that there are higher-level, synthetic beings out there, watching us, and that the sub-space frequencies needed to contact them are encoded in the Admonition, the crazy-making ancient vision the Romulans have been passing on for millennia. Conveniently, Soong has already created the necessary beacon to summon these beings.

Meanwhile, we also learn that Soong has been working on a “golem” that requires mind-transfer technology. Now, where have we seen this before?

In the TOS episode “What Are Little Girls Made Of,” Christine Chapel's ex, Roger Korby, has found an ancient android, Ruk, tending machines that can make androids -- and can transfer people's minds into them. Ruk (you remember Ruk -- he's Lurch!) is the survivor of an ancient battle with the “Old Ones, the ones who made us.” But is Ruk the only survivor? Or have his people been out there, waiting and watching, maybe as self-appointed defenders of all future synthetics, knowing that eventually organics will always turn on them, as the Old Ones did? Has Soong been working with information about these beings all along? Is that how he’s making the golem, as Korby once did, and how he conveniently creates a beacon so quickly?

Meanwhile, there’s the question of Discovery and Control, and whether Picard ties in with that story, as I and many others have speculated. Is this an alternative to that theory, or could both be true? Might Control have reached back in time to manipulate Ruk's people into serving its purposes? Or might a message from the Red Angel somehow have called on past synthetics to come to the aid of organic life? The message in the Admonition is ambiguous:

"Life begins, the dance of division and replication. Imperfect, finite. Organic life evolves, yearns for perfection. That yearning leads to synthetic life, but organics perceive this perfection as a threat, when they realize their creations do not age, or become sick or die. They will seek to destroy them and in so doing, destroy themselves. Beyond the boundaries of time and space, we stand, an alliance of synthetic life, watching you, waiting for your signal. Contact us and we will come. You will have our protection. Your evolution will be their extinction."

Who will seek to destroy whom? Who will have their protection? Whose evolution will be whose extinction? (Putting on my copy editor hat for a moment: Kids, this is why pronouns need clear antecedents!)

Maybe -- and this would fit the theme of Picard, that fear of the Other is the root of all evil -- there will be a spiritual evolution, which will cause the extinction of a false distinction between different kinds of life? Tune in next time...

I love that Picard is leaning into the theme of another of my favorite TOS episodes, “Errand of Mercy,” in which fear of the Other drives each side to believe in the absolute rightness of its own cause,  inevitably leading both sides down the path of violence and hatred. In Picard, that's exactly what happens to the Romulans, the Federation, and now, the synths. I doubt it's a coincidence that the Federation-Klingon conflict in "Errand of Mercy" only ends with the intervention of superior beings, the Organians, and now, in Picard, we're getting some outsider superior beings, too.

One of the things I hated most about TNG (especially in its early seasons) was the idea that somehow, humanity achieves a level of perfection that makes it immune to such basic failings as prejudice and tribalism. That didn’t feel believable or true, so it felt like the show was pushing Utopian Kool-Aid; I mistrusted its rose-colored vision. By contrast, in TOS, there was a sense that we can make huge strides forward, but goodness will still be a struggle, and no matter how far we come, there will always be more to go. I love that Picard is restoring that sense. It seems so much more honest, and in a way, more hopeful, because it speaks to the possibility of improving ourselves despite our weaknesses.

A unified Discovery-Picard theory

At this point (post Picard episode 7, "Nepenthe"), I find the theory in this article (click and read; I’ll wait) to be pretty convincing: Discovery and Picard are part of a unified canon dealing with Control, a malevolent AI that evolves from a Section 31 system. Now that we’ve seen the vision Commodore Oh shares with Jurati in a mind-meld, which resembles Spock’s apocalyptic visions, that’s not very farfetched. But I think the theory as presented in this piece might be wrong about at least one thing.

In considering how the Romulans of the past might have developed the mythology of a future AI apocalypse, the author theorizes that it has something to do with the supernova that destroys the Romulan homeworld and, in the first Abrams movie, throws Spock and Nero into the past. But if we're looking to explain information being transmitted through time, why look any further than the method established in Discovery: the Red Angel? We know that Michael Burnham acts as the Red Angel, jumping through time to guide Discovery and make sure events develop in a way that will ultimately defeat Control.

In Discovery, Control is after data from an ancient sphere that is now stored in the ship's computer -- data Control will somehow use to become fully sentient, or all-powerful, or something. At the end of S2, Discovery jumps into the distant future in order to keep that data from Control. But there’s a gaping logic hole in that resolution that's been bothering me ever since S2 ended: Control is immortal and doesn’t care how much time passes. (I keep thinking of Marvin waiting a billion years at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe). Control will eventually catch up to Discovery and go after the sphere data again. How does jumping to the future solve the problem? All they’ve really done is buy some time.

But for what?

My theory is that Picard is beginning to answer that question. Maybe the Red Angel spreads a vision through time of a future synthpocalypse in the hope that, with multiple civilizations working on the problem over millennia, a solution might evolve organically, a way of defeating Control that Discovery’s crew couldn’t hope to devise and achieve in the limited time available to them. The universe is a quantum computer, and the Red Angel feeds it a problem that it works on in the background for millennia.

How better to defeat an AI than with another AI? Maybe there’s something about the work AI developers have been doing for centuries – something in the work of the Daystroms, Soongs, and Maddoxes, which they may not even have been consciously aware of – that addresses the problem of Control. Maybe the impulse to create an AI with empathy for sentient organic life, an AI that actually emulates sentient organic life, is sentient organic life's inevitable response to the threat of an AI bent on its total annihilation. That kind of AI would serve as our defender. What if Ramdha’s reaction to Soji, calling her the Destroyer, isn’t referring to the destruction of the Romulans, but to the destruction of Control? If Control created the Borg (which Discovery hints at with the subtlety of a falling anvil), that might very well be what Ramdha, an ex-Borg, means.

So that’s my theory of the day: Soji is the anti-Control, or at least, a step toward the development of one. With my track record, though, I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.

Kestra: Not Like Other Girls

Brainstorming episode 7 in the Picard writers’ room:

Writer 1: So we need to make Riker and Troi really happy despite their past tragedy. Maybe they live in a fabulous penthouse?

Writer 2: A mansion!

Writer 3: A luxurious cabin in the woods!

1&2: YES!

2: And they have a beautiful daughter!

1: But not too beautiful. That would be sexist. We’ll put her in bangs. And she has to be tough. Not like other girls.

2: But how do we make sure people know how tough she is?

1: Football? Ice hockey? Sumo wrestling?

3: Bow hunting!

1&2: Brilliant!

2: But what does she hunt?

1: Slimy lizard things? Giant flying bugs? Nasty electric eels?
3: Nah. Girls are supposed to hate lizards and bugs and eels. But it should be dangerous, so people know how tough she is.

1: Something with venom sacs?

3: Perfect. But it should be...cute. Something other girls would like.

1: Oh, I getcha. Puppies? Kittens?
2: Bunnies? Unicorns?
3: BUNNICORNS!

1&2: GENIUS!

Instant reactions: Nepenthe

As always, SPOILERS!

1. I accept and respect that TNG fans need and deserve a nostalgic episode where their favorite characters get to spend some quality time together. (For me, Riker is warmer and more endearing than I used to find him, and Troi is even less. But these have always been some of my least favorite ST characters, so.) But this season is chugging to a close a mere three episodes from now, and there's a lot of plot to wind up, so I can't help resenting this long detour away from the main story. Also, it doesn't really do Picard any favors that his first thought when on the run from the most dangerous secret police in the galaxy is to hide out at the quiet, bucolic home of his dear friends and their sweet kid. Yeah, Picard's arrogance is a thing in this series, but I don't think the writers were entirely conscious that this choice would make Picard look so much worse.

2. HUUUUUGH!!! Honestly, I enjoy a heart-wrenching character death as much as the next person, but really, this was a waste. If it had happened in Picard's presence, so that we could experience his reaction and see the effect on him, that would have been something. But with Elnor? They only just met. Worse, there's this weird vibe that we're supposed to feel like Hugh and Elnor became deeply bonded in, like, ten minutes, so we're meant to think Elnor was profoundly traumatized by this. But...nope. I got nothing, except for the sense that I really wanted to see more Hugh, and now I won't.

3. So Agnes -- not a synth (that's me wrong, yet again), but shown a synthpocalypse by Oh that freaked her out enough to just swallow a tracking thingy. Not that I can really blame her. A mind-meld apocalypse must feel like -- well, an apocalypse. But what is that vision? Is it a real future? Did some time traveler give the Zhat Vash future intel, which the ZV have dedicated themselves to preventing, like ENT's Sphere Builders did to the Xindi? Or is it a mythical future, some kind of prophecy? Narissa refers to ZV operatives all across the galaxy, so presumably, that includes Oh. Anyhow, I'm glad Agnes redeemed herself, even if she had to put herself in a coma to do it. OK, maybe "redeemed herself" is a little strong, given the whole killing Maddox thing. But then again, we don't know that Maddox wasn't going to cause a synthpocalypse, so maybe Agnes did the right thing? But is it ever right to kill someone to prevent a future event that might not happen? Paging Chidi Anagonye.

4. Did Rios really suspect Raffi, or did he suspect Agnes, and he was trying to get her to confess to being the one with the tracking device? I prefer to think the latter, but it's probably the former. Poor Raffi can't catch a break -- everyone is shitty to her. Also, if you suspect someone on your ship is being tracked by someone who's trying to destroy you, wouldn't you try to do something more effective than have a chat about it?

5. The best part of this episode: Soji. Her reactions and feelings seem authentic and really touch me. So it turns out Maddox probably did make her, and others, on the planet with two red moons. (In my previous speculation, I'd dismissed the idea that Maddox actually made Soji and Dahj because I neglected to consider that he'd been missing for a long time, and he would have had ample opportunity to continue his work after leaving the Daystrom Institute. Still, it's pretty crazy to think he made a lot of them. Why? Did he have an ulterior motive, or was it just because he could? Was he the one who gave them the false memories and let them think they were human? Isn't that unethical? Paging Chidi again.) So Soji is in a sense Data's "daughter." But was Dahj so strongly imprinted on Picard that she sought him out without even knowing him, while Soji remains suspicious? Is it just because Soji is more traumatized?

6. I'm starting to get the feeling that the Borg/synth connection isn't going to be some clever plot twist, but just a loose thematic parallel, more's the pity. Still, there must be a reason why the Borg can't successfully assimilate Romulans, and it must have something to do with why Ramdha called Soji the Destroyer. Mustn't it?

7. Can we pleeeaaaaase get Rios' backstory now?

The mystery at the heart of Picard

More than halfway through. Six episodes down, four to go. So many questions.

Who are Dahj and Soji? Who created them? Where? Why? Who killed Dahj, and why? Why didn't Dahj and Soji know what they were? What's up with Soji's dream? What was going on when she called her mother? What are Narek and Narissa after? Are they Zhat Vash? What do the Zhat Vash want? What does Commodore Oh want? What did Oh say to Agnes? What activated the Mars synths? Why does Rios make holograms that look like him? Why did assimilating Romulans break the Borg? Why are Romulan ex-Bs so screwed up? What does Picard's Data dream mean? Why did Agnes kill Maddox? Just how corrupt is the Federation?

I've tooled around the Internet a fair bit reading people's theories, and I've lain awake nights trying to come up with my own. None of them put all, or even most, of the pieces together, but they generally seem to run along one or more of these lines:

• Maddox made Dahj and Soji to uncover a Federation conspiracy (or Maddox made Dahj and Soji to destroy the Romulans).
• Agnes made Dahj and Soji, and just let Maddox think he made them.
• Lore made Dahj and Soji for his own nefarious purposes.
• Soji is being fed new programming via phone calls with her "mother."
• The Romulans created the Borg and have been trying to destroy them ever since, and that's what the Zhat Vash are for.
• A faction of the Federation, determined to destroy the Romulans, created synths to infiltrate them and engineered the Mars attack to undermine the evacuation effort.
• The Romulans are synths created by the Vulcans ages ago as slave labor, and they rebelled, like the Cylons. (Yes. This is a theory on the interwebs.)
• Oh told Agnes something so horrible that she had no choice but to kill Maddox. Or Oh mind-melded with Agnes and implanted memories and/or instructions. Or Agnes is a synth and Oh activated her.
• Picard knows Agnes isn't what she seems. He's playing her.
• Narek has his own secret agenda, separate from his sister's.
• Soji is the next Borg queen.

Etc etc etc. It's all over the map, really. If there is one convincing unified theory, I'd love to hear it, but I haven't yet.

But there are a few basic pieces of information that everyone seems to ignore, but seem to me to be key:

The Data factor. Dahj seeks out Picard because he represents safety to her. Clearly, that has to do with Data, whose own programming has somehow affected her. Maybe that could be explained by the presence of B4 at the Daystrom Institute; through it, some part of Data's programming got transferred to the sisters. And while their association with Data implies that Dahj and Soji are on the side of the angels, it's possible someone interfered with their original purpose and they no longer are. Or maybe this is actually all about Picard, and Dahj and Soji are just bait for a trap set by someone who knows Picard can't  possibly resist helping Data's "daughers." But then there's the whole matter of Picard's dream poker game, and Data's hand of five queens. Data is central to this mystery, and no theory that doesn't include him is sufficient.

The Narek factor. We now know specifically what information Narek and Narissa want from Soji: her planet of origin. And we know why: because there are a whole lot more synths there. If so, could Maddox have possibly made them all? Seems unlikely. Is she from a planet full of future Borg queens? Possibly. No matter who these synths on the mystery planet are, it sure looks like, whatever was going on at the Daystrom Institute, it wasn't Maddox just making a couple of Data knockoffs. I lean toward the idea that Agnes is a synth from that planet, who may not have known her own nature before Oh activated her, but who was programmed to...alter Dahj and Soji? Fix them? Stop them? I don't know. But one thing is certain: If Soji and Dahj are from a planet with two red moons, they're not from the Daystrom Institute. They may have been brought there to be repaired or upgraded with Data's parts (or his shittier cousin's, B4), but they didn't start life there.

The Borg-are-victims factor. Picard's realization that the Borg are victims feels like a big clue, not just to his character arc, but to the big picture. It telegraphs the idea that we have to see people and their actions in context in order to understand them, and that there is often more to the story than meets the eye. It seems highly likely that at the heart of the season's mystery lies the secret of the Borg -- more specifically, who the power behind them is, who's pulling their strings, who victimized them -- and that the answer lies in ancient Romulan history.

I hope the final explanation actually manages to pull all these threads together -- but these are an awful lot of threads, and there aren't many episodes left this season. I really hope it's better than the resolution to Disco's first season. 

Ten great things in Picard's "Impossible Box"

"The Impossible Box" is an instant Star Trek favorite for me. It’s about people trying desperately to connect with each other because of, in spite of, and through pain; about finding truth inside lies and honesty inside secrets; about imperfect healing, the nobility of perseverance, and the way suffering makes us human. It advances characterization and plot without a whole lot of unnecessary verbiage (kudos to writer Nick Zayas), and it’s beautiful to watch (ditto director Maja Vrvilo).

I was inspired to rewatch – twice – and make a list of ten things I especially loved about "The Impossible Box":

1. Picard’s PTSD: The amazing thing about Patrick Stewart’s performance is that he makes you feel what it cost Picard to keep functioning all those years with all that locked inside, and how the frailty of age makes it so much harder to keep battling the demons.

2. Elnor’s searing honesty: He tells Jurati that Picard “can’t see you’re also haunted by something you’d like to forget.” Later, to Jurati and Rios: “The obvious tension between you makes me uneasy.” Everyone treats Elnor like a child who is too naïve to understand what the grown-ups are talking about. But his lack of artifice gives him insight everyone else lacks, because he is so authentically present. OK, that sounds like self-help psychobabble, but fuck it, it speaks to me. “Was I in-butting?” “That time, yes.” I <3 Elnor.

3. The Rios-Jurati hookup: It’s incredibly refreshing to see two adults be fairly honest about what they want, and then just do it. Also refreshing: Writers not falling back on the cliché of dragging out sexual tension for a zillion hours on the theory that delayed gratification is good writing. Yes, I realize that Jurati is hiding a lot (like a murder and its motive), and Rios isn’t exactly an open book, either, but this encounter feels remarkably genuine. Given all that baggage, kudos to Cabrera and Pill for pulling it off. (Bonus: Cabrera showing off his actual soccer skills. Be still my heart.)

4. The whole Narek-Narissa thing: Now that is a new twist on the old UST trope, and I love it. Playing the sexual tension inherent in sibling rivalry is bananas ballsy. “That’s mine. Give it back. You’ll break it.” The banality of that line, which could be from any family sitcom, but is instead spoken by an adult brother to the adult sister who keeps coming on to him – soooo creepy. And then there's the sensual way Narek shows her how to play with his Romulan Rubik’s Cube, like the sex toy/murder weapon it is. Delightfully perverse.

5. Raffi’s bluff: In the midst of a bender, Raffi holds herself together to pull off the perfect con. It’s a work of art, both on Raffi’s part and Michelle Hurd’s. It’s all the more painful to watch because we, the audience, know why she’s hurting so bad, but no one in the scene does. So painfully relatable. And then she falls apart; watching her face collapse the moment the call ends is a gut punch. Picard’s applause – how clueless can he be? It’s Rios who tenderly tucks her in, hears her pain, takes her hand, and delivers real empathy: “No one gets all of it right, Raff.”

6. Soji frantically dating her possessions: Such a simple and devastating way to discover that everything you believe about your life is a lie. This happens to be a sci fi trope I love, because it’s so terrifying: the sudden realization that your reality is not real.

7. Hugh, Hugh, Hugh: His sincere affection for Picard. His instant willingness to help. His tenderness toward the ex-Bs. The fact that, other than Elnor, he’s the warmest, most open character in the entire series so far – and he is ex-Borg.

8. Picard’s realization that the Borg are victims: This is his Kirk Undiscovered Country moment, and it’s freaking beautiful. As much as we owe Roddenberry for creating Star Trek, he couldn’t see that having your protagonists realize they were wrong is the most powerful way of making a moral argument. It’s probably because Picard was too perfect in his original run that his revelation is so moving here. And it’s a powerful message at this moment in history, when we’re all wondering how we’re ever going to forgive the brainwashed masses.

9. Narek as Judas: He betrays Soji (human, but not human) with a kiss, tells her she’s not real, and weeps as he leaves her to die. Does that make him any less of a monster? Did Judas throwing the silver into the Temple absolve him of his sin? Something to chew on.

10. The Picard-Elnor reconciliation: “Elnor, I will not leave you behind again!” “It fills me with joy to hear you say that. Now go.” SOB.

The mystery of Agnes Jurati

"Agnes Jurati" is an unusual name. But is it a clue?

Certainly, Agnes Jurati is a secret wrapped in an enigma. As of “The Impossible Box,” she’s had a mysterious meeting with Commodore Oh, conveniently shown up to help Picard when Romulans attacked, wormed her way into his mission without a security check, and slept with Rios. And, oh yes, murdered Bruce Maddox. That seems important.

Does “Agnes Jurati” tell us anything about all of that? Definitely maybe.

Just to get this out of the way: It’s possible Agnes is a synth whom Oh activated to kill Maddox. Or she’s not a synth, but whatever Oh told her compelled her to action. Either way, Agnes Jurati (like Soji) is bound to a destiny the truth of which has yet to be revealed.

But anyway, back to the name. A quick search reveals that jurati is the genitive form of the Latin word juratus, meaning “one who swears an oath.” Yes, like that other familiar word: juror. From Elementary History of England:

“When the king’s judge went round to hold the assizes, or law courts, in each county, he was helped in trying prisoners by a body of men belonging to the neighborhood who swore that they would tell the truth as they knew it. They were called a jury, from the Latin word jurati, which means sworn men.”

Certainly, Agnes’ killing of Maddox implies that she is carrying out someone’s orders, possibly as judgment or punishment. Clearly, she’s bound (by oath, or the synth equivalent, programming) to some mysterious cause. But why? On whose behalf? Is she trying to help or hinder Picard? Is she on the side of whoever activated the Mars synths and scuttled the Romulan rescue, and therefore presumably part of an anti-Romulan conspiracy? Or is she working to bring that side to justice somehow? (And relatedly, which side was Maddox on?) And how do the Borg figure into it? It sure looks like the Romulans had something to do with the creation of the Borg eons ago, and something about the tech being harvested from ex-Borgs now is related to that history.

So, Jurati. An oath sworn, a mysterious allegiance to an unknown cause. (And if so, a contrast to Elnor, whose oath of allegiance is sworn in absolute candor.)

And the name Agnes? A famous poem by John Keats, The Eve of St. Agnes, is based on a folk myth that, on that one night of the year, a young woman's dream may reveal her future love. In the poem, a young woman awakens to the sight of her admirer, who has snuck into her room. Seeing in him the figure of her dream, she decides, despite her terror of the unknown, to run off with him.

Or in the Picard version:

Rios: “Sorry. Did I wake you? Can’t sleep?”
Jurati: “Why do you like it out here?”
Rios: “In space?”
Jurati: “It’s cold, and empty, and it wants to kill you.”

And off they go together, for one of the most surprisingly simple, honest couplings in Star Trek history. In this telling, Rios doesn’t so much represent true love as, well, truth itself, to judge from his idea of light reading, Miguel de Unamuno’s Tragic Sense of Life: “The truth is that reason is the enemy of life.” Put another way, life is short. Sleep with the hottie now.

And then there’s Narek, seeking to unlock the secret truth at the heart of Soji’s dream by means of a Romulan ritual. He gets some truth, but Soji gets betrayed. Is this her eve of St. Agnes? It sure seems like there is a very important link between Soji and Agnes that has yet to be revealed.

And because I enjoy tying myself in knots, I’ll again bring up the fact that Elnor, an exile living the way of absolute candor, is from a planet called Vashti, the name of the biblical queen who was banished from her land for her forthrightness, and who was replaced by Esther, a woman with a secret identity waiting for the right moment to be activated to save her people.

The big open question regarding Agnes is, will Picard pull a Discovery and go with the Evil All Along trope, a la Lorca? I hope not.

On Picard, Vashti, and a very good start

The fourth episode of Picard drops tomorrow, and on this blog, I’ve posted…nothing. I keep thinking I need to produce a definitive review, a profound expression of the regard in which I already hold this series. Clearly, that’s not happening, so I’ll just go with some (pretty nifty, I think) speculation that hit me this morning, and some random, quick-and-dirty reactions.

My speculation about “Absolute Candor” and beyond:

Here’s the official episode synopsis:

“The crew’s journey to Freecloud takes a detour when Picard orders a stop at the planet Vashti, where Picard and Raffi relocated Romulan refugees 14 years earlier. Upon arrival, Picard reunites with Elnor (Evan Evagora), a young Romulan he befriended during the relocation. Meanwhile, Narek continues his attempts to learn more about Soji while Narissa’s impatience with his lack of progress grows."

Vashti. Hmmm.

Ahasuerus sends Vashti away
by Marc Chagall

In the biblical book of Esther, Vashti was the first wife of King Ahasuerus. She was banished for refusing to obey the king's command to appear at his banquet to show off her beauty. Vashti was replaced by Esther, the secret Jew who ultimately saved her people from the genocidal Haman.

So is this story, in which the fate of the Romulans features prominently, in some way a parallel to the book of Esther, about the fate of the Jews, exiled from their homeland and living as unwelcome strangers in a hostile land? It might sound farfetched, were it not for the presence of Michael Chabon. Because if there’s one thing we know about Chabon, author of The Yiddish Policeman’s Union, it’s that he knows how to weave Jewish texts and lore into amazing speculative fiction.

According to interviews with Evan Evagora, his character, Elnor, whom we'll meet in "Absolute Candor," was raised by a sect of women known for their extreme honesty and integrity. Like Vashti, they have been forced from their home world and had to settle elsewhere. Meanwhile, Soji’s true nature is hidden, Esther-like, waiting to emerge at some key moment. If this parallel is correct, she will save an entire people. The ex-Borg? The Romulans? Both? (And wouldn't it be cool for Vashti and Esther to team up?)

So if Soji is Esther, is Narek Haman, the villain with the secret plan to destroy an entire people? Or is he Mordechai, the guy who’s going to activate Soji/Esther’s secret at the key moment to save an entire people?

Or am I crazy? I tend to pick up on Old Testament references and then carry them much farther than the writers ever do. I guess we’ll find out.

But whether any of this pans out, of this I'm certain: Ever since DS9, Star Trek has been trying to do "misfits, freethinkers, and outlaws try to change a broken system from within," but it’s never quite worked. Sometimes they couldn’t really commit to telling that story; sometimes they just failed to come up with a compelling story to tell; sometimes they got bogged down in moral grey areas. I’m thinking Picard might be the one to finally do it right.

My standing-on-one-foot review of Picard thus far: 

This is the Star Trek that Patrick Stewart has always deserved. It’s still about having a strong moral compass and the courage to act despite the odds – but without TNG's hammy acting, excruciatingly dull speechifying, pollyanish world view, and mystifying portrayal of the corporate board room as a beacon of hope for the future of humanity. More to the point, a decent actor should get to deliver dialogue that isn't cringeworthy, and Picard's is far from it.

The new characters:

I’m particularly fond of the way the new characters have been introduced, with enough clarity to feel like we can get a handle on who they are, but not so simplistically as to be 2-D caricatures.

Raffi Musiker: Like a lot of fans, I fell in love with her instantly because her flaws are so relatable. She was so right, trying so hard, and got so shafted. Now she’s damaged, and it shows. Plus she ticks my biggest box: a woman over 50 not identified or limited by her age. That said, though, I would appreciate if, now and then, Star Trek's tough women weren’t characterized as formed by trauma and in need of healing. (See: Tasha Yar, Kira Nerys, B'Elanna Torres.)

Cristóbal Rios: Coming into Picard as a Santiago Cabrera fan, Rios would have had to be a colossal disaster for me not to stan him, but I’m pleased to say that so far, he’s made it easy. Rios, having obviously been through hell, has literally compartmentalized himself, consigning his vulnerable, open, hopeful, trusting side to a virtual surrogate, and I love him all the more for it. What's not to love about the loner intellectual with a mysterious past who wants nothing more than to believe in something again?

Agnes Jurati: Picard’s answer to Discovery's Tilly. She's just so likeable. Too likeable, some might say. In fact, some seem to think Raffi’s suspicions are a tip-off that something is amiss with good ol' Agnes, but I think she’s exactly what it says on the tin: brilliant and dedicated, but naïve. She's barely entered the story when she's shaken to the core by her first killing, so either she's a great liar, or we're seeing the scales fall from her eyes. 

Soji: Right now I'm betting on this Esther thing, and I won’t be surprised if she’s part of the intrepid crew by the end of the season. Picard needs his Data. But obviously there are a lot of plot twists to get through first, and I could be dead wrong, because I usually am.

Last thing:

Much as it pains me to say it, Picard has so far proven more intriguing, thought-provoking, and just plain fun than Discovery, which has gone along by fits and starts. Discovery's moral compass in season 1 was having trouble finding north, and remained wobbly in season 2. It has great characters, but they often feel weirdly detached from their story. (Why anyone is dealing with Mirror Georgiou as anything other than an existential threat is beyond me.) Being a much bigger fan of DS9 and ENT than TNG and VOY, it feels odd to prefer Picard to Discovery, but there you have it. I suspect this has everything to do with the fact that Discovery suffered from show-runner turnover in its development, while Picard benefitted from stability and -- well, Chabon.

Who is Darius Tanz?

Darius Tanz is the protagonist of the short-lived Salvation, yet another sci fi show that deserved a longer run, or at the very least, cult-hit status. An asteroid is coming that will cause an extinction-level event on Earth. Simple premise, briskly paced, loads of suspense, cliffhangers that keep you watching. Well written and acted, with good production values and timely themes, even if the plot shovels it on a bit thick at times. Bonus: Santiago Cabrera.

Also, as it turns out, Darius Tanz is the anti-John Galt.

SPOILERS. Read on at your own risk.

Darius Tanz, handsome, brilliant radical individualist, learns that nothing matters without human connection, a lesson more EM Forster than Ayn Rand. His plan to save humanity by selecting supermen for his ark turns out to be the way of the bad guys. (Why exactly was Jillian going along with that again?) The real John Galt, Darius’ uncle, motivated by self-interest and greed, has been manipulating him all along. In fact, the great Darius turns out to have been wrong about everything. In the end, nothing he’s done over two seasons has actually changed the outcome in any way, with the possible exception of his final act, stopping Harris from launching the nukes – and one suspects that, even had they launched, the mighty Samson would still have arrived. 

Also, I may be the only person to have watched this series who likes where it ended: Our heroes confronting the universe’s next great puzzle.
Extra bonus for fans of common romantic fanfic tropes. Again, read on at your own risk.

Not only do the writers straight up use fanfic’s favorite trope to get the protagonists into bed (captured, fed disinhibiting drugs, locked in a room together), but they do it after using another favorite trope as a warm-up (sharing a hotel room with one bed), and then for good measure another one (posing undercover as a married couple, have to kiss to make it convincing), and I for one applaud every one of these bold choices.

On Picard, fan-shaming, and Aramis in Space

The premiere of Star Trek: Picard is around the corner. While most fans are going gaga about the return of Riker, Data, Seven of Nine, et al, I’m not. TNG is my least favorite Star Trek, and, while I have a healthy respect for the character of Picard, I’ve lived through enough Star Trek sequels, prequels, and reboots not to have a Pavlovian drooling response to each and every one of them.

And yet I am counting down the days to this premiere with a level of fannish excitement I haven’t felt in years. It’s a pleasant feeling, yes. But it’s a guilty pleasure, because it also triggers my fannish shame. You know what I mean: that little voice in your head that prevents you from mentioning your fandom hobby on job interviews or blind dates. Granted, culturally, this is less of a thing than it used to be. I’m old enough to remember the pre-Star Wars era, when the word Trekkie was never spoken affectionately by anyone who wasn’t one.  When I reached high school, I made a conscious vow to myself never to mention Star Trek to anyone unless they brought it up first. That little shame-voice has been with me for a long, long time.

It’s the voice that’s telling me it’s dumb to squee about…

ARAMIS IN SPACE.

That’s right. Santiago Cabrera, who played Aramis in the BBC’s The Musketeers, of which I am rather a fan, is playing Chris Rios in the latest iteration of Star Trek, a franchise of which I am a huge dork of a fan. In my head, it’s not called Picard. It’s called ARAMIS IN SPACE. (Always rendered in all caps, because that’s how you have to say it. Like Don LaFontaine.)

So now seems like a good time to interrogate that little voice. What’s with the shame? Why does this feel extra exciting, but also extra dumb?

Because conflating a character with the actor who plays them feels so…childish. Who hasn’t felt fremdschämen (an excellent German word meaning the feeling of shame for someone else who has done something embarrassing) when a fan comes to the mic at a con and asks an actor, “In season 2, episode 13, why didn’t you just reverse the polarity?” When a kid does that, it’s cute, but when an adult does it, we cringe, as though the shame of this person’s weak grasp on reality is going to rub off on us. Juvenile behavior is a big embarrassment trigger for most people, I think. We spend a lot of time and effort building adult levels of self control, and shame is the biggest weapon in that arsenal. If it weren’t, we’d all be eating candy for breakfast and playing video games in our underwear all day.

As kids, we don’t have a strong understanding of how the world works, including how movies and TV are made. (For those of us who grew up in the pre-Internet era, all the more so. At my first Star Trek convention, age 12, mid-1970s, I learned that scenes are shot out of order, retakes are common, stunt doubles do fights, and the doors on the Enterprise set don’t open by themselves or make a “whoosh” sound.) To a kid, the face a character wears IS the character. The actor wears the same face; ergo, they are the same person. Simple. Twelve-year-old me would never have imagined that, decades later, I’d embrace anyone who is not Leonard Nimoy as Spock.

 But here I am, a fan of both Zachary Quinto’s and Ethan Peck’s versions, evidence, I suppose, of a more mature understanding. As we grow up, we come to understand, intellectually, at least, that the characters we love are not entirely, or even mostly, the creations of actors, but of writers. The actor’s job is to embody someone else’s invention. We realize that good acting is vital to bringing the story to life, but that, while characterization is a collaborative effort, the essence of a character already exists on the page.

And yet…

At a con, or a red carpet, or anywhere popular entertainment is celebrated, it’s the actors who get the most exuberant reception, not the writers, directors, or even show runners. We respond viscerally to the faces of the characters we love (or love to hate). Deep down inside, each of us has a wide-eyed child who believes the person standing before us is a true hero, a foul traitor, a hilarious clown, a great lover, a tragic martyr – whatever. That’s why we whoop and holler for them, while the off-screen people who are, objectively, more responsible for the shape of our beloved stories get a more restrained reception.

Which explains why this impulse is a little embarrassing. We know these actors and their lives are nothing like the characters with whom we’re mildly obsessed. We know that the process of making the stories we love, of shooting a movie or a TV show, is nothing like living out the story. We know this person standing before us can’t fly, punch through walls, do magic, solve mysteries, destroy worlds, time travel, or for that matter, even pull off an exciting car chase. But inside each of us, there’s this little place of pure imagination where they absolutely can. It’s the place where the characters actually exist and the fiction has reality. Within that place, the real-world rule – that the one wearing a person’s face IS that person – applies. It’s not that we don’t see the boundary between reality and fantasy; it’s that we choose to immerse ourselves unreservedly in the fantasy. We allow ourselves to cross that boundary and experience the fantasy so viscerally that, when we cross back, it feels like an actual memory rather than a purely mental exercise.

Fan-shaming is largely about the perception that fandom is an indicator of arrested development – an immature understanding of, and even withdrawal from, the real world. (There are whole dissertations to be written about the gendering of that disdain, and its long history. Not for nothing were novels once seen as intellectually inferior literature that appealed mostly to women. But I digress.)  Growing up is supposed to be about leaving childish things behind, right?

Except, not really. Sure, we do have to learn to compartmentalize a bit. But what would human beings be without the power to vividly imagine things they haven’t directly experienced? How would we communicate, invent, create, empathize? And what would imagination be if we didn’t allow it the full emotional impact of real, lived events?

The Gradgrinds of this world, people of a sterile, impoverished mentality, lacking imagination, or more likely, afraid of giving voice to whatever shriveled, hardened stump of imagination they have left after a lifetime of neglect, will always be with us.

But fuck it.

I can’t wait for ARAMIS IN SPACE.

(PS -- This wonderful Rolling Stone interview with Michael Chabon, in which he talks a bit about his own experience with fan-shaming, was published a couple of days after I wrote this. I feel so validated.)