Half a Life by: Peter Allan Fields from a story by: Ted Roberts and Peter Allan Fields and directed by: Les Landau

 

“Half a Life” is written by: Peter Allan Fields, from a story by: Ted Roberts and Peter Allan Fields, and is directed by: Les Landau.  It was produced under production code 196, was the 22^nd episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 96^th episode overall, and was broadcast on May 6, 1991.

 

In September 1990, Gene Roddenberry suffered a stroke.  This was a clear turning point in the decline of his health.  He had already stepped away from being the showrunner of Star Trek: The Next Generation before the end of the first season, appointing Maurice Hurley to replace him in the second season, who would in turn be replaced by, in succession, Michael Wagner and Michael Piller.  Roddenberry would pass away October 24, 1991, partway through production of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s fifth season.  “Half a Life” was produced and broadcast five months before the passing of Roddenberry, but the future specter of his decline hangs over every scene, and it is better for it.  The premise of the episode involves the Enterprise hosting an experiment for Dr. Timicin of Kaelon II, played by David Ogden Stiers.  Kaelon II orbits a star that is close to collapse, the planet having perhaps half a century left before it will be consumed.  The people of Kaelon II are bound by ritual and tradition.  Once they reach the age of 60, they undergo the Resolution, state-enforced euthanasia surrounded by loved ones as to not become a burden on their loved ones and society at large.  Euthanasia has always been a difficult issue to tackle.  It is a societal issue that my own personal views are complicated and are not entirely relevant to this episode.  “Half a Life” actually takes a rather nuanced view on the practice, while it comes firmly on the side of the Resolution being wrong despite its roots in an old civilization’s traditions, it does not exclude the possibility of euthanasia as an option for the individual to take.  Instead, this is an episode uses Timicin’s Resolution to explore two themes: how society treats the elderly and coming to terms with one’s own death.

 

In the metatext of “Half a Life” this is Majel Barrett’s chance to come to terms with the love of her life being on death’s door.  While writer Peter Allan Fields may not have intended it this way, using the character of Lwaxana Troi, visiting the Enterprise as a convenient way to travel, as Timicin’s romantic interest creates the idea that this is on some level about the impending death of Gene Roddenberry.  Timicin does die at the end of the episode, despite Lwaxana Troi’s arguments and persuasions to buck tradition and avoid the Resolution, he cannot find himself becoming a revolutionary and try to change the planet.  When faced with exile and ostracization, plus the threats posed to the Enterprise by Kaelon II’s leadership, he decides to go through with his death.  Barrett’s performance is incredibly layered.  In her previous appearances, Lwaxana Troi represents a female character type that was uncommon on television at the time.  She is a powerful woman who is confident in her sexuality despite being of an advanced age, Barrett being in her late 50s, in a series that portrays that sexuality as normal.  Female sexuality in media has a tendency to be reserved or demonized if it is portrayed, and Lwaxana goes against the many stereotypes.  “Half a Life” is as romance for the character that Star Trek: The Next Generation treats with the most possible gravity.  Lwaxana is given several passionate monologues demanding somebody do something about these barbaric traditions and begging the man she loves to live, if not for her but for the rest of his people.  While it is impossible to know how much of Barrett’s performance is coming from deep within herself as she is losing the man she loves, there is a clear passion here and the material serves her well.  After the first act of the episode, Lwaxana’s comedic tendencies are downplayed, or outright gone from the character.  Her final act of being with Timicin when he goes through with the ritual is a beautiful final line for the episode as well, again not condoning the practice, but accepting that death is inevitable and it is better to be able to share in those final moments, to face grief head on instead of hiding it away.  What brings Lwaxana to this decision is a beautiful scene shared with Marina Sirtis as Deanna Troi, Sirtis getting some of her best material in a script that has both women understanding one another’s shared grief.

 

David Ogden Stiers as Timicin is an equally layered performance.  Several reviews of mine have discussed how Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation often drop the ball when it comes to the discussion of aging, but Timicin as a character is treated with dignity.  He is a scientist and a gentleman, Stiers playing him as gradually falling in love with Lwaxana Troi after knowing her only a couple of days, but that is enough.  He is a character in his twilight years of life, presented as in good physical health despite the impending death and tirelessly working as one member of a society to save the world.  There is a nobility in the work that he is doing which is given an added angle of humility as he is already building upon the work of people who have already lived their 60 years and the work will be continued beyond his.  Lwaxana uses that work as an argument against going through the Resolution.  The passionate claim that the Resolution is as if no work is being done to save the planet because why bother living if every individual is given a predetermined death date.  Timicin does not see the nihilism baked into his people’s beliefs and traditions until this moment and it is ultimately the bargain to save more lives that makes him seek asylum on the Enterprise.  “Half a Life” is also special because in Timicin committing to the Resolution, the statement it is making becomes a tolerance of a situation and the sad truth of the late 1980s and early 1990s that societal change takes time.  One man may get the ball rolling, even with their own stumbles and changes, but progress is not linear.  Timicin’s life’s work still needs to be completed by somebody else in the end.

 

Overall, “Half a Life” is only elevated by what Majel Barrett and David Ogden Spiers bring to their respective roles.  The commentary on euthanasia and the choice on when to die is given the nuanced take it deserves and for once the decision to leave questions unanswered as to how to proceed in the situation is a bonus to the episode.  It is elevated to one of the strongest episodes of this season because of the metatextual element Barrett brings with Gene Roddenberry’s declining health and coming to terms with a death that Barrett clearly knew was going to happen.  Lwaxana Troi is one of the best recurring characters on Star Trek: The Next Generation and this episode is definitive as to why.  9/10.

Star Wars: A New Dawn by: John Jackson Miller

 

Star Wars: A New Dawn is the first novel aimed at adults in the rebooted canon that came about after the purchase of Lucasfilm by the Walt Disney Company.  The commission would have come to author John Jackson Miller soon after the decision would be made to decanonize the original expanded universe and was explicitly meant to be a tie-in novel to Star Wars: Rebels, the then upcoming animated series to be aired on Disney XD.  Pitching the novel as for adults and not at the young adult market is an interesting one, however this is likely due to the fact that 2014 was a far different publishing landscape than it is today as A New Dawn is not a particularly complex novel or one geared towards an older audience.  The characters are adults which would make it an odd choice, but not impossible to be marketed as a young adult novel, and while thematically this is a novel dealing with life under a fascist regime there is nothing that would not resonate with a younger reader.  Particularly odd, then, is that in publishing it for the adult market, the fact that it is a tie-in to a series aimed at the teenage audience (Disney XD was a network that tended to skew older than the Disney Channel crowd) is nowhere to be found on the cover.  Dave Filoni’s introduction is the only indication that this is meant to be a direct tie-in, and yet marketing a new expanded universe like this makes perfect sense.  Star Wars: The Clone Wars remained canon largely due to the production of Star Wars: Rebels as an indirect sequel and explorations of those original characters remain popular.  There is a safety net with a tie-in to an ongoing piece of media, if it fails the ongoing art can soak up some of that failure and team running Star Wars can decide how to pivot.

 

Luckily, A New Dawn is quite an engaging look at life under the Galactic Empire.  While there is the direct connection to Star Wars: Rebels, an animated series I have not seen, this is a novel that stands on its own merits.  John Jackson Miller is quite good at painting the picture of how the machine of empire runs.  The scale of the novel is, for the better, quite small in scale: there is a mining operation that has fallen behind schedule and the Empire needs results so they have dispatched one Count Vidian to increase production.  Vidian is the novel’s primary antagonist and in terms of antagonism there is a tired banality to all of his actions.  While he certainly can be cruel and believes in the empire’s cause, he is simply one cog in the machine that keeps the galaxy moving and the burgeoning rebellion on its toes.  That does not mean he is an ineffective villain, his ultimate fate is quite wonderfully realized and feels like one of those necessary small victories of the protagonists making great personal strides that are a drop in the bucket of the grand scheme of things.  Miller uses Vidian as representative to just how rhythmic and almost entirely predictable a machine like the Empire must be.  Because of that predictability there are easier buttons to push and eventually break.

 

The opposite to Vidian is protagonist Kanan Jarrus, a man who has grown up as the Empire has risen, being one of the few Jedi to survive Order 66 through the sacrifice of his master, portrayed beautifully in the prologue.  This sort of loss is explored as indelibly altering Kanan’s identity, changing his name from his birth name of Caleb Dume to Kanan Jarrus, Jarrus coming from the smuggler who helped him survive.  A New Dawn uses the beginnings of the rebellion as a shock to the system for Kanan, slowly getting him out of that survival mode and into the mode of living.  While it obviously could not take the title of A New Hope, this is a novel exploring how hope can come like an explosion going off after periods of careful planning.  The Empire has always had cracks inside of itself after all, even with Palpatine’s accumulation of power and dismantling of democracy, and Miller knows exactly how to exploit those cracks.  There are still people who remember the Clone Wars and the Jedi of old, even if they are people living their lives every day and falling in with the party line so to speak.  The Empire rules with an iron fist because it has to or else the cracks would be exploited sooner.  Kanan is paralleled with Hera Syndulla, one of the rebels and the novel’s second protagonist, both she and Kanan are featured on the cover.  It’s their clash of personalities that deepens A New Dawn.  Rebellion is something that slowly becomes more and more attractive to Kanan as he begins the process of working through his own trauma and live again.

 

Overall, perhaps the biggest weakness for Star Wars: A New Dawn is that it wraps up with a few too many open-ended threads, explained away by its status as a tie-in to a show that was beginning to air when it is published.  John Jackson Miller as an author is really good at getting the reader in the heads of the characters and their various points of view, all towards that exploration of the Empire as a real society where people had to live instead of the omnipresent antagonist of the original trilogy.  8/10.

The Drumhead by: Jeri Taylor and directed by: Jonathan Frakes

 

“The Drumhead” is written by: Jeri Taylor and is directed by: Jonathan Frakes.  It was produced under production code 195, was the 21^st episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 95^th episode overall, and was broadcast on April 29, 1991.

 

Sometimes an abrupt ending to an episode is the perfect ending.  “The Drumhead” is an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation presenting the crew of the Enterprise with a witch hunt.  The episode opens with an act of sabotage.  A Klingon biologist staying on the ship is actually a double agent for the Romulans, discovered due to an explosion among the engines that said spy importantly was not responsible for causing.  This indicates the possibility of other double agents aboard the ship, a conspiracy which starts small and eventually puts every member of the crew under suspicion.  Starfleet sends Admiral Norah Satie, played by Jean Simmons, to investigate due to her and her father’s experiences in routing out conspirators and traitors.  This premise is quite simple.  It’s far from the first episode of Star Trek or even Star Trek: The Next Generation to structure itself around court proceedings, but this is one where the ending is intentional in not allowing catharsis.  This is an episode where the pressure is slowly applied and increased and while Satie makes one misstep, an outburst to protect the name of her father revealing just what lines she has been crossing.  Yes, the episode ends with her being taken off the ship and the investigations ended, however, Jeri Taylor’s script does not give any indication as to whether there actually is a conspiracy of the crew on the Enterprise.  The explosion was coincidental, but there is still the distinct possibility of a larger conspiracy.

 

Taylor’s script clearly takes its inspirations from hearings heard by the House Hun-American Activities Committee and the campaign of anti-Communist sentiment spearheaded by senator Joseph McCarthy.  Notably Starfleet and Gene Roddenberry’s vision of the future is one that clearly takes cues from socialism and Marxism, even if everyday life is rarely explored throughout Star Trek.  Arthur Miller’s The Crucible is clearly a source of inspiration for how the episode is structured, though “The Drumhead” does not have a protagonist who is guilty of an unrelated sin to explore the moral dilemma.  The line of questioning is explicit in implicating anyone who had brief association with J’Dan, including those that provide him medical care.  Not surprisingly, Worf is given quite a bit of material in this episode, however, he is one character who does not come under suspicion in the investigation.  This is because he is becomes swept up in persecution, actively challenging Picard on not immediately being on board with the persecution of members of the crew.  Michael Dorn gives a layered performance: Worf’s own insecurities about his lost honor are clearly motivating his actions and despite the heavy Klingon makeup there are these brief moments where Dorn’s eyes are particularly active.  Worf as a character has been given an ongoing character arc from the fall from honor by doing the right thing, but it haunts him.  It is used against Picard when he is questioned, several previous decisions are under scrutiny due to treating allies and enemies as people.  It’s notable that Worf and Picard are given the final word in the episode.

 

Patrick Stewart is given a script where he excels as Jean-Luc Picard.  Despite being the captain of the Enterprise and a great admirer of Satie’s father, he is consistently on the backfoot.  This is a man who does not believe in the concept of the sins of the father or that the Romulans are inherently evil.  This does mean that Picard has been tricked and taken advantage of by people, “Data’s Day” being a primary example.  Picard’s own trauma with the Borg in The Best of Both Worlds is brought up to be used against him and the way Stewart’s face falls is a particularly fantastic piece of acting.  “The Drumhead” sets Picard up as powerless to actually do anything, despite clearly wishing to stop these proceedings.  This is an episode that only stops because Picard gives a speech that gives Satie enough rope to hang herself.  Stewart and Simmons also have this explosive chemistry.  Stewart as an actor in interviews has spoken about how he was starstruck when he met Vivien Leigh and there’s a sense that Stewart holds Simmons in similar regard if the way he plays off her is anything.  Laurence Olivier’s Hamlet is a definitive version of Hamlet and as such Simmons’ Ophelia is a definitive version of that character.  She is an actress Stewart would have grown up watching and this admiration allows him to step up his game as an actor.

 

The idea of sins of the father is where the snowball begins.  J’Dan has a medical condition which requires injections and one of his doctors is put under suspicion.  This is Simon Tarses, played by Spencer Garrett, and he has his life torn apart by the hearings.  Satie lies her way into forcing Tarses into implicating himself as related to the Romulans, he claimed on his application that his grandfather was a Vulcan.  He also associated himself in social settings with J’Dan at least once.  This is enough to frame him as a villain which is horrific.  Satie is outright a racist, not only towards Romulans due to their position as enemies of the Federation but it is also towards Klingons.  Her racism is quite fascinating, it clearly reflects aspects of American racism as her ire towards Tarses is because he dares to have a drop of Romulan blood in his ancestry which makes him genetically inferior to her.  She also regards Worf as a potential traitor because he is a Klingon who has lost his honor, therefore someone willing to lie and cheat, but happily uses him towards expanding the hearings.  The way the hearings are expanded is visually fantastic.  It’s a simple trick of adding more extras into the gallery and positioning the camera so we are isolating the defendant and emphasizing the mob.  This is the third episode to be directed by Jonathan Frakes and once again he proves that he is a dynamic television director.  It elevates the simplicity of the premise and enhances the storytelling to draw so much out of the cast.  Simon Tarses only appears in this episode and yet the examination of why he would lie to enter Starfleet and crack under the interrogation asking why he would lie if he had nothing to hide avoids feeling like a well-used trope because of Frakes’ direction.

 

Overall, “The Drumhead” is perfect.  It’s an episode that owes a lot to pieces of literature that are engrained in the public consciousness.  Jeri Taylor writes a script that does not actually update the ideas from the nearly 40 years between Miller’s The Crucible and this episode, but explores them as an aspect inherent to society, at least how it is structured in the present of 1991 (and today due to how societal change has been slow).  This immediately becomes a contender for the best episode of the season and one of the show’s best.  It assembles a perfect guest cast, Jean Simmons in particular is integral in making the episode work.  Jonathan Frakes directing means that the regular cast can just feel familiar and almost let loose with their performance, even if those performances are given extreme gravity.  10/10.

Qpid by: Ira Steven Behr from a story by: Randee Russell and Ira Steven Behr and directed by: Cliff Bole

 

“Qpid” is written by: Ira Steven Behr, from a story by: Randee Russell and Ira Steven Behr, and is directed by: Cliff Bole.  It was produced under production code 194, was the 20^th episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 94^th episode overall, and was broadcast on April 22, 1991.

 

Unable to outshine the premises of “Q Who” and “Deja Q”, “Qpid” is an episode that decides what Star Trek: The Next Generation really needs is a love triangle between Captain Picard, Q, and Vash from “Captain’s Holiday”.  Randee Russell is credited with contributing the story to the episode with Ira Steven Behr, and apparently his only contribution is the love triangle at the center of the episode.  The plot and final script is credited to Ira Steven Behr, a writer responsible for “Captain’s Holiday” and some of the ideas behind “Yesterday’s Enterprise”.  “Qpid” is actually his last contribution to Star Trek: The Next Generation, he had left the writer’s room at the end of the previous season due to feeling creatively unfulfilled.  Michael Piller asked him to come back to write “Qpid” as Piller believed that Behr’s touch would work for this season’s appearance of Q, played by: John de Lancie, and the thought to bring back Vash, played by: Jennifer Hetrick, when this was proposed for the third season as an episode set in Camelot.  The love triangle would have put Picard, Vash, and Q in the roles of King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot respectively as an examination of courtly love and to test Picard’s feelings towards the treasure hunter.  In developing the episode, however, the setting of the fantasy changed to Sherwood Forest and the tales of Robin Hood and accommodating this a lot of the genre of the episode changed.  It does allow the rest of the Enterprise crew to become Merry Men, even if Worf declares that is something he is not, and it becomes a test for Picard to go on an adventure so his Robin saves Marion.  Joining the cast on the adventure is stage actor Clive Revill hamming it up as a delightfully evil Sir Guy of Gisbourne.  Of course by the end of the trial Picard passes the test from Q, the rest of the Enterprise crew contribute to the final rescue of their captain and his love, and Vash makes the not so surprising decision to choose Q over Picard (he can offer her far more adventure and treasure, though Picard uses his debt from Q to promise her safety in a touching ending).

 

The actual parody of Robin Hood only takes up the last third of the episode and yet the way Ira Steven Behr scripts the sequences work as well as they do because they don’t overstay their welcome.  They are particularly tight, within the space of five minutes giving each of the Enterprise crew a moment to shine in the comedic shenanigans, the aforementioned Worf declaration being a highlight but Data also gets quite a good one of just being a complete fish out of water in this genre of story.  Cliff Bole directs the episode and it’s clear he is having a lot of fun taking advantage of the location filming allocated to the episode and in parodying classic adventure films.  Michael Curtiz and William Keighley’s The Adventures of Robin Hood is visually the clear inspiration as to how the action is filmed and the sets that are used, as are the specific colors used on the Robin Hood costumes in this sequence.  Because it’s only the final act of the episode, this is also a sequence that does not overstay its welcome.  While the original series of Star Trek would do similar parodies, were Star Trek: The Next Generation to do so in the same way it would not work nearly as well.  The subversion of the typical Robin Hood story is that it is Picard in the role of Robin and Vash’s own sense of self-preservation means that both characters are going to act against type.  This is what provides the tension for the sequence, they are both to be executed at noon because Picard did not just let his crew into his confidence.  Picard does not really know how to reconcile his relationship with Vash, her nature as a treasure hunter, and his position as captain of the Enterprise.

 

What elevates “Qpid” is how the first two acts play out as a standard romantic comedy as close to the letter as possible.  The episode opens with Picard incredibly nervous about having to give a speech to a group of archeologists, the end of the pre-credits scene being Vash’s entrance which is played as a lover coming back into Picard’s life.  Both Hetrick and Patrick Stewart play it incredibly well, with loving looks in each other’s eyes and nothing but happiness.  Dramatically this is creating the twist that the danger of the episode is not some big, planet destroying threat of aliens, but Picard having to be emotionally vulnerable enough to fall in love.  The conflict comes from the fact that Picard did not actually tell anybody about his relationship with Vash, Gates McFadden as Crusher getting the best reaction of this mix of subtle jealousy but immense pride that the stiff captain is in fact a human being.  The only thing that undercuts this, and the weakest aspect of the episode, is that the scene of a character reacting to the fact Picard had a romantic interest does repeat perhaps one too many times without actually developing it a little more.  Jonathan Frakes plays Riker’s scene as equally romantic and Data is fortunately not given one.  It’s after this sequence that Behr then twists the expectations by introducing Q, sitting in Picard’s chair in his ready room.  This is framed and performed as the same as the appearance of Vash.  While on the surface and with the conclusion, the love triangle implies Q and Picard are vying for Vash’s affections, Q’s reintroduction heavily implies that it is actually Vash and Q vying for the affections of Picard.  John de Lancie has always played Q as queer coded and while executive producer Rick Berman was quite adamant at keeping LGBTQ characters off Star Trek, a decision that will always remain a black mark on the franchise and a reminder how its progressivism has always been inconsistent, Behr’s script and de Lancie’s performance makes it clear that Q feels a passionate attraction and fascination with Picard.  Q is written as outside of the human concept of love, but de Lancie makes him an ignored lover, elevating the episode to the same level as the last two appearances of the character.  Even the title of Qpid indicates that Q’s role here is that of a god of love and passion.

 

Overall, “Qpid” somehow manages to slip an actual love triangle onto Star Trek: The Next Generation and becomes a near perfect example of how to do a fun episode while still saying a lot about the characters.  Ira Steven Behr is a writer who understands how to layer the subtext of the episode to make the fun Robin Hood pastiche a damning indictment on Picard’s need to let himself go, find love, and accept fluidity in his role and identity.  9/10.

Star Wars: The Living Force by: John Jackson Miller

 

A Glup Shitto refers to basically any Star Wars character that would not be recognizable to the mainstream audience.  Star Wars fans may feel incredibly passionate about them, especially if they are characters featured in the expanded universe.  They are not inherently bad characters, they are inherently obscure characters.  There is even an argument to be made that Qui-Gon Jinn could be considered a Glup Shitto as secondary protagonist of exactly one film, one of the much less loved prequels at that.  The Living Force is best described as a tribute to all of the Glup Shitto characters in the background of Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, focusing almost entirely on the members of the Jedi Council.  Sure, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi are also here but their roles feel more of a supporting capacity when you take into account that author John Jackson Miller writes for a whopping twelve protagonists in addition to those two.  This is a book that could best be described as for the fans, because coming from my perspective of someone who has seen The Phantom Menace but could only name maybe one or two council members not played by Frank Oz or Samuel L. Jackson it’s essentially reading about original characters.  This isn’t a bad thing, Miller even wraps everything up in a story that does not have much to do with the plot of The Phantom Menace, making The Living Force an exciting chance for pre-Empire worldbuilding within the framework of the rebooted canon.

 

The Jedi are a flawed order, that is something central to the conflict to both the prequel trilogy and the sequel trilogy.  The Living Force uses that as a starting point for this story; the Council as a whole represent the isolationism of the Order to be a particular problem that will lead to their downfall.  Qui-Gon Jinn as a character is the only one banging the drum that the Council needs to do far more with their position instead of just sitting while the republic slowly becomes more and more bureaucratic.  Miller’s choice of villain for a novel like this is the correct decision to eschew any hints that the Sith exist, outside of a few choice scenes featuring Senator Palpatine which do sadly read a little like the fanservice they are (especially an epilogue scene that directly ties into The Phantom Menace), instead having the Jedi Council facing off between a group of space pirates.  Tonally this harkens back to the many of the science fiction adventure serials that inspired George Lucas to make Star Wars in the first place.  For those following the Star Wars books there are also quite a few direct connections to The High Republic publishing line, though Miller does include enough context that the setting’s connection to that history is made apparent and the parallels between the Jedi then and now form a proper backbone to the argument against the order being isolationist.  The villain of the novel’s final fate is also interesting, the Jedi giving her some leniency and mercy in prison which is an interesting indication that there is something more to the Council in their ability to learn.

 

John Jackson Miller is given a difficult task in writing The Living Force.  This is a novel celebrating 25 years since the premiere of The Phantom Menace and each member of the Jedi Council is supposed to have a part to play.  While the novel certainly has the space to use the twelve characters, they are a bit uneven in their portrayal.  Mace Windu and Yoda are actually given a fair amount of balance in their appearances here, taking up perhaps a bit too much time but nowhere near as much as a lesser author may be tempted to do.  The ten other members at least get one big moment to shine and delve into character more than what The Phantom Menace would allow.  Yaddle’s personality, that is the female member of Yoda’s species, is perhaps the most fun due to Miller using her as a trickster closer to how Yoda was portrayed during his introductory scenes in The Empire Strikes Back.  The most depth of a character for me is the running gag involving Ki-Adi-Mundi and an ice cream vendor.  It’s a philosophical joke about the nature of flavors and the Jedi enjoying basically ice flavor.  There’s a lot of the character’s personality surrounding this running gag and how kind he actually can be.  He is also flirted with at several points through the novel and is portrayed almost as the perfect Jedi, being unable to form an attachment.

 

Overall, The Living Force is a book that’s clearly aimed at longtime fans.  Casual Star Wars viewers, including myself, will struggle just a little bit with remembering who each of the protagonists are as John Jackson Miller juggles a dozen protagonists, most of which falling into the category of Glup Shitto.  There is an admirable effort in making each of them have at least one scene to establish who they are and add something to the central theme of anti-isolationism, however it is a novel that has perhaps too many.  Character work on a whole is particularly strong and the plot is light enough that even with the multitude of protagonists it is fun, but there is some great stuff being held back because of just how many plates are being spun.  7/10.

Delta and the Bannermen by: Malcolm Kohll

 

Delta and the Bannermen was written by: Malcolm Kohll, based on his story of the same name.  It was the 139^th story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

There was a time where Delta and the Bannermen ranked as my least favorite Doctor Who story.  So much so that I have reviewed the televised story twice and there was some apprehension going into this batch of Target novelizations which includes Malcolm Kohll’s adaptation of his only Doctor Who television story.  Luckily in converting the serial to prose there are several issues that are either fixed or softened slightly in adaptation.  Kohll does take time in the opening act of the story to actually explore the Chimeron/Bannermen conflict as well as add just the tiniest bit of depth to Gavrok as a character.  The genocide is happening because Gavrok and the Bannermen are motivated by greed and profit over the life and environment of planets.  Kohll clearly cares about the impending threat of climate change, the novelization making it slightly clearer as to why Andrew Cartmel would approach him to write for the show.  The political commentary is still skin deep, Gavrok and the Bannermen are still just characterized as evil brutes with no real sense of inner life, but at least the backstory is something.  There is also an epilogue that attempts to explore the fates of the surviving characters, the living Bannermen being transported to prison, Billy and Delta living happily ever after, and Ray taking the motorcycle and heading to the European continent.  At the very least these additions add something to the novelization.

 

Kohll does not seem to have had any experience before or since in terms of writing prose and there is a sense with Delta and the Bannermen that there was a lack of editorial support.  There is a fairly famous typo that slipped through the copy editor, but the novelizations pace is also all over the place.  While some of the additional details are nice, Kohll does write these incredibly short chapters that fluctuate from being a single scene to multiple scenes tied together.  The prologue for instance isn’t a prologue, but a description of the Doctor and Mel in the TARDIS at the start of the story.  The epilogue actually serves as an epilogue as stated above, but that prologue could easily be cut and you would have a stronger book.  There is a sense that Kohll has seen science fiction novels with prologues and epilogues so he includes one of each of them.  It’s particularly odd as Delta and the Bannermen was not published during the experimental phase where novelizations became tests for longer Doctor Who novels.  Kohll also struggles with the different groups of characters.  Hawk and Weismuller are expanded but only in service of adding more comedy to the story, the same can be said with Burton Burton running the holiday camp, but a lot of this humor is outdated.  Burton feels like a parody of neurodivergent people, which I’d like to believe is unintentional from Kohll.

 

Overall, while there are some improvements to a particularly bad story, Delta and the Bannermen is still one of those stories that just don’t work.  Adding extra details mean that the story is easier to follow, but this is still a story with extreme tonal whiplash from outright camp comedy with silly aliens having a jolly old time to a genocidal invasion.  Fundamentally it is a weak story and no amount of expansion is actually going to save that.  3/10.

Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock by: Terrence Dicks

 

Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock was written by: Terrence Dicks, based on his story Horror of Fang Rock.  It was the 40^th story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

Horror of Fang Rock is one of those Doctor Who stories that should probably not work as well as it does.  It was written rather quickly by Terrance Dicks after the BBC requested cancellation of The Vampire Mutations.  It’s a testament to Dicks’ skill as a writer that it’s the highlight of its season and one of Tom Baker’s best serials.  Since it’s a Dicks story it was also an easy candidate for novelization, Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock being published less than six months after the television story completed.  While not the quickest turnaround time (The Five Doctors hit the shelves the day before that story was broadcast), six months does mean Dicks has little time to adjust the story before his deadline.  His prose is the usual easy to read style, leaning itself nicely into the gothic horror tone of the original story.  There is a great sense of isolation with the lighthouse setting and some slight expansions of Fang Rock and its legendary beast.

 

Dicks avoids the temptation in adding to the legend of the beast to make it a previous Rutan that somehow made it to Earth, implying in Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock that the Rutans have only just become able to change their appearances.  They have only been intergalactic recently, far less than the Sontarans.  This does create an interesting perspective when Dicks writes a few scenes from the point of view of the Rutan.  It’s basic for characterizing a gestalt entity but it makes an impression when the rest of the novelization suffers from not having sterling performances.  Terrence Dicks does adapt his script well, the characterization is there, but without the cast a lot of the lines that transfer over don’t quite hit as well.

 

Overall, Terrance Dicks clearly understood the story he was adapting when writing Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock, even if there is just a bit of the novel suffering from being a novelization.  His breezy prose is for the best, even enhancing the feeling of isolation while characterization does suffer slightly.  8/10.