Galaxy's Child by: Maurice Hurley from a story by: Thomas Kartozian and directed by: Winrich Kolbe

 

“Galaxy’s Child” is written by: Maurice Hurley, from a story by: Thomas Kartozian, and is directed by: Winrich Kolbe.  It was produced under production code 190, was the 16^th episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 90^th episode overall, and was broadcast on March 11, 1991.

 

To be generous to “Galaxy’s Child”, there is potential in telling a story about reassessing a character’s hero when they get the chance to meet.  People are complicated and it’s a universal experience.  The internet age has intensified this feeling with the rise of extreme parasocial relationships around every public figure (and several private figures).  An episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation exploring this should be an easy win.  “Galaxy’s Child” is a direct sequel to “Booby Trap” as Dr. Leah Brahms, played by Susan Gibney, comes aboard the Enterprise and Geordi La Forge, played by LeVar Burton, is madly smitten based on the hologram program he made of her in that previous episode.  This should be Geordi realizing that Dr. Brahms is her own person with her own life and deleting the hologram permanently at the end of “Booby Trap” was the right decision.  It is not.  The increasing conflict of Geordi being unable to come to terms with Dr. Brahms as a person and not this idealized partner for him.  “Galaxy’s Child” was written by Maurice Hurley, the previous showrunner of the show, who left at the end of the second season due to disagreements with the rest of production, even wishing to open a potential new season with an entirely new cast because he disliked the current production.  Brahms as a character is introduced insulting Geordi, rhetorically meant to let the audience know that this is not the hologram from the last season, but in practice places her as antagonist of the episode.  With this framing Geordi is the protagonist, his arc in the episode being complaining that while there is the occasional lip service to the fact that he never knew Dr. Brahms, by the end of the episode he is treated as if he has done nothing wrong and Brahms is given the blame for their conflict.

 

“Galaxy’s Child” is an episode dripping in misogyny.  Outside of Dr. Brahms’ introduction, her personality keeps the stone-cold demeanor at best, something that could work perfectly well if it treated her as a person and not the sole object of Geordi’s desires.  The script has her on the Enterprise to attempt to learn from Geordi’s improvements to her designs in “Booby Trap”, something that she continually disregards as wrong, often idiotic, and not willing to even look at the possibility they are improvements.  Brahms is also established as a married woman after a scene where Geordi lures her into a date on the false pretense of discussing the scope of the changes to the engine.  The script and direction from Winrich Kolbe frames this as a romantic date that Brahms is far too cold and wrong, using her marriage to shut Geordi down.  The episode builds to the point where Brahms discovers her hologram replica, and the episode frames her as being in the wrong for getting angry about it.  Maurice Hurley clearly does not understand that the hologram is a sex object, it is a fantasy using the skin, voice, and body of a woman for the pleasure of a male character who then wishes to use the real woman as object for his romantic and sexual desires.  The episode having the gall to frame Geordi in the right is the problem, the resolution is Geordi and Brahms working together to solve the B-plot which is a space eel latching onto the Enterprise.  That B-plot is not a bad B-plot, just unremarkable and never really intersecting with the sexist A-plot that’s the core of the episode.  For their part Gibney and Burton are trying with the episode, though there is a strain on both of their performances because the material is not there.  Burton’s actually great in the few moments Geordi is opposite Guinan who is the one person to even indicate that he may be in the wrong.

 

Overall, Maurice Hurley seems to be at the scene of the crime when Star Trek: The Next Generation produces its worst episodes.  “Galaxy’s Child” is a product of rape culture.  While no sexual assault or rape is depicted, the script is steeped in the idea that a man is owed a relationship and will not take no for an answer.  It blames the woman for not being nice and personable enough to a man who is continually overstepping personal and professional boundaries, adding further blame when the discovery of her body being used without consent as essentially a sex toy.  The only thing stopping this from being the absolute bottom of the barrel is having a perfectly fine B-plot and exactly one scene where Whoopi Goldberg tells the man no, he’s being delusional.  2/10.

Once in a Lifetime by: John Freeman with art by: Geoff Senior and lettering by: Stuart Bartlett

 

“Once in a Lifetime” is written by: John Freeman with art by: Geoff Senior and letters by: Stuart Bartlett.  It was released in The Incredible Hulk Presents issue 1 (October 1989) and is reprinted in its original form in Doctor Who: Nemesis of the Daleks by Panini Books.

 

The Incredible Hulk Presents was a Marvel UK exclusive magazine where the main feature of the strip was reprints from The Incredible Hulk, but each issue was bolstered with comics for G.I. Joe, Indiana Jones, and most relevant for my purposes Doctor Who.  This was published weekly, Doctor Who being allocated five pages per issue.  The last time a Doctor Who comic was weekly were the early days of Doctor Who Magazine, though for The Incredible Hulk Presents the team of writers and artists are on a rotation as to not burn out.  The book ran 12 issues in 1989, coinciding with the end of Doctor Who on television.

 

The few good things that can be said about the first strip, “Once in a Lifetime”, is that it is short and Geoff Senior’s art is quite good.  Senior excels at capturing emotion and a wacky tone that the strip is going for, as well as clearly having fun with some of the alien designs.  The actual story is simple but relies on the Doctor being outright villainous towards a journalist called Miff.  Miff is slightly annoying to the Doctor, so he sends him to a bar where association with the Doctor nearly gets him killed.  The Doctor then strands him ten years into the future where his newspaper is out of business.  That is everything that happens in “Once in a Lifetime”.  What makes this the weakest Seventh Doctor strip thus far is just how out of character the Doctor is, he’s a villain being portrayed as a hero.  John Freeman writes the script and like John Carnell’s “Follow That TARDIS!” the script suffers from not wanting to be Doctor Who.  While the tone is slapstick and aimed at children, it plays out as quite cruel when actually being read.

 

Overall, “Once in a Lifetime” is a terrible start to The Incredible Hulk Presents.  While a five page gag strip has potential, even as a Doctor Who story, the gags have to actually be funny and not just cruel.  The Doctor is the villain and that’s a problem when the perception of the Doctor is in the midst of shifting the character to examine his morality.  2/10.

First Contact by: Dennis Russell Bailey, David Bischoff, Joe Menosky, Ronald D. Moore, and Michael Piller from a story by: Marc Scott Zicree and directed by: Cliff Bole

 

“First Contact” is written by: Dennis Russell Bailey, David Bischoff, Joe Menosky, Ronald D. Moore, and Michael Piller, from a story by: Marc Scott Zicree, and is directed by: Cliff Bole.  It was produced under production code 189, was the 15^th episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 89^th episode overall, and was broadcast on February 18, 1991.

 

The opening of “First Contact” plays out not like an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation but as a medical drama.  The pre-credits sequence builds to the reveal that the patient is William Riker, and the alien doctors are surprised at his anatomy.  This does exactly what it says on the tin, exploring a society’s first contact with aliens except instead of humanity, it is the citizens of Malcor III being exposed to the Federation for the first time.  The setup of the episode is that first contact is happening too early, but not early enough to be a violation of the Prime Directive, this episode does not even mention that as a possibility.  While not made explicit as to what caused the riots that injured Riker, it is inferred that it is in response to warp experiments that are going too well with Riker in disguise as one of their own.  The doctors treating him immediately suspect he is an alien and the B-plot of the episode is keeping him at the hospital stable, while trying to stop the news of an alien arriving on the planet from getting out.  The A-plot of the episode is Captain Picard and Deanna Troi revealing themselves to the planet’s government authorities to arrange first contact and find Riker.  The trick to the episode is in the opening, by keeping the perspective of the episode on the alien characters this becomes a unique exploration of what the established Star Trek first contact scenario would be.

 

“First Contact” was initially a pitch by Marc Scott Zicree for the third season that took the interest of new showrunner Michael Piller.  While the story concept was purchased for development in the fourth season, to get to the finished episode the idea underwent several drafts.  Zicree only receiving story credit indicates that he did not contribute to the finished script.  There are five writers credited; however it is very likely Piller is the one writing the final script as he is credited last and alone.  Based on the groupings of the names it’s likely Dennis Russell Bailey and David Bischoff took one crack at the script while Joe Menosky and Ronald D. Moore took another before Piller finished the broadcast script.  There is little indication in the episode as to what each writing team contributed, so for all intents and purposes it is a Michael Piller script combining the work of the original story pitch and these two other draft versions.  While this review will be referring largely to Piller as the writer it should not discredit the contributions of the others to making this episode work as well as it does.  The trick behind the episode is the fact that the perspective is not on the Enterprise crew, instead putting the episode on the shoulders of the guest cast to show the perspectives on this planet.  Importantly, the ending of the episode where first contact is not made official is integral in how the episode works.  “First Contact” becomes an exploration of how tradition can create fear to hold a society back from progress.  Star Trek as a franchise likes to examine a society’s maturity in terms of accepting these ideas, Gene Roddenberry’s perspective being that humanity will eventually ascend away from its own prejudices.  The society of Malcor III is prejudiced towards outsiders and to technological progress, the mention of riots at the warp experiments and the initial fear that the Federation are wolves in sheep’s clothing so to speak.  There are exceptions, people who can see the progress and their representative in the episode is allowed to make her own personal first contact and leave with the Enterprise crew.

 

British character actress Carolyn Seymour plays the closest thing “First Contact” has to a central protagonist as Science Minister Mirasta Yale, a woman on the cutting edge of technology and immediately enraptured with the Enterprise and Federation.  Seymour plays the role as complex, excited to take the steps into the future of technology but still taken aback by the appearance of the strange anatomy of human beings.  Piller’s script is intentional in Yale’s agency as a representative of government, withholding information from the authorities on her judgment when learning of the Federation’s multiyear observations.  It also avoids giving Yale romantic subplots, allowing her to exist as a competent scientist and woman who does not need the definition of a man that likely would have happened were this an episode of the original series.  The opposite side of traditionalism and fear is represented by Krola, played by Michael Ensign, who descends into his own type of madness when he is told about the aliens.  He is the episode’s antagonist, outright becoming violent and setting himself up for martyrdom to turn the public against the alien menace that the Federation might pose.  As mediator is George Coe as Avel Durken, the planet’s chancellor who genuinely does care for the well-being of his people and moving them forward.  Piller positions Durken not as sympathetic to people like Krola, but as understanding of the need for the right rhetoric to get people on their side.  He is the one who makes the final decision that the planet is not ready for first contact but will be working to prepare his own people with the knowledge that the universe is far bigger than their traditions allow at this point.  The B-plot of an injured Riker is almost entirely in service of the A-plot, though it does contain the one thing that holds the episode back.  There is an extended cameo from Bebe Neuwirth as a woman immediately attracted to Riker and the episode does contribute to portraying the sexual coercion of a man as a joke.  Don’t get me wrong, Neuwirth’s performance is quite funny and her chemistry with Jonathan Frakes is there, it is however a poorly devised sequence and in the end filler so the B-plot can fill in some of the episode.

 

Overall, outside of exactly one plot point that has made “First Contact” age quite poorly, it is a brilliant episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation.  It works so well because of the divergence in perspective of the typical format allows for proper exploration of what first contact implies for a society.  Like the best science fiction there is a mirror being held up to humanity, even if the mirror is towards a generic issue with humanity’s tendency to accept change and the promises of something better because it would be an expansion of their horizons.  9/10.

The Last Resort by: Paul Leonard

 

Paul Leonard’s The Last Resort has one of those covers that just read as insane.  An enormous UFO over the pyramids while several TARDIS’s appear at various points, there’s an indication that this is meant to be a big novel.  The series of alternate universes and parallel realities plaguing the Doctor, Fitz, and Anji are coming to a close and Leonard decides to write a novel as a tribute to Groundhog Day.  Instead of time loops, the narrative switches between several alternate Earths featuring various combinations of this TARDIS team and Sabbath existing and falling apart.  The Time Police are an organization that stops time travelers, Good Times Inc. provides time tourism, and in some realities a new species of Martians are subservient to Earth.  A time traveling boy from Ohio called Jack has become Akhenaten after inventing a time machine, Sabbath has his own plans, and the Doctor is nowhere to be found.  Keeping the Doctor off-page for about half the book is a brilliant decision from Leonard, it helps keep the reader feel as disoriented as the many alternatives of Fitz and Anji are.  Reading The Last Resort is meant to be disorienting, the first four chapters actually repeat themselves with minor differences but the same chapter titles and end with death.  There’s a lot of death in The Last Resort.  Reality is falling apart and Leonard uses death as an attempt to communicate that idea.  Nothing is stable, one page Fitz or Anji will be dead and the next they will be alive again, plotting the next steps in whatever feeble attempt could save reality.

 

The Doctor reentering the narrative at the halfway point brings some stability to The Last Resort.  Before this point Sabbath was the closest thing to stability, at least in terms of implementing his plans, despite the several guises of the man.  The Doctor’s absence is actually where the novel is the strongest, it’s where Leonard can implement the most interesting imagery outside of the repeating chapters gimmick.  It is a gimmick that is abandoned after one repetition of the first two chapters, indicating that Leonard was unsure of his ability to tell this type of complex, nonlinear story.  Anji as a character is the only one outside of the Doctor to be emotionally stable enough to make a plan that has a plan that might just work.  She’s the only one who can see her life as disposable, there will be another Anji and Fitz coming by with another Jack to fulfil the plan.  Returning the Doctor to the narrative does not fix things but it does take away from the early portions of the book which do explore the idea of time tourism creating broken worlds.  Leonard also struggles quite a bit with the setting of the back half of the book, it’s where everything centers more directly on Egypt and the pyramids as a setting.  It’s where Sabbath becomes once again the outright villain of the novel, something that is fairly obvious from the beginning, however it’s reducing the story to a normal Doctor Who story.

 

Leonard also has a slight struggle in having to use The Last Resort for some further setup.  The actual cast is intentionally quite small, most characters are alternate versions of other characters and there are at least two characters revealed to be alternate versions of Jack.  Since Time Zero there had been hints that Trix stowed away from the TARDIS and this is the book where she actually reappears, though not to the Doctor, Fitz, and Anji, instead to one of the many Jacks of the novel.  She has a small part to play but her scene and the epilogue are very much setting up her to be a major player in the next book.  That’s where The Last Resort fails, Leonard is not writing a complete narrative for himself, or at least that’s what the book becomes after a point, instead writing the prelude to the next Eighth Doctor Adventures novel, Timeless, and that means he cannot take full advantage of his fascinating premise.  The satire Leonard attempts is lost in translation and the actual resolution of the novel falls into his usual trap of underwhelming endings.  The epilogue in particular feels like a cliffhanger of the Doctor discovering Trix in the TARDIS and a final confrontation with Sabbath is imminent, it just does not help the narrative of this book.

 

Overall, The Last Resort has the potential to be one of the greats, and for the first half it becomes at least interesting, but it eventually devolves into a stop gap narrative meant to get the characters to a point for the finale of this arc.  It’s a problem that much of this arc has had, Reckless Engineering leading directly into the finale as intended with this novel just as a weird little aversion where little actually changes for our protagonists.  It’s by no means a bad book, but it is a book that would work better were it separated from this point in the story arc, even if it swapped places with the previous book it would likely improve.  Dropping the nonlinear presentation gimmick so early on is also bringing it down quite a bit making it a perfectly fine little story that had more potential in theory than execution.  6/10.

Clues by: Bruce D. Arthurs and Joe Menosky from a story by: Bruce D. Arthurs and directed by: Les Landau

 

“Clues” is written by: Bruce D. Arthurs and Joe Menosky, from a story by: Bruce D. Arthurs, and is directed by: Les Landau.  It was produced under production code 188, was the 14^th episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 88^th episode overall, and was broadcast on February 11, 1991.

 

It is a crime that “Clues” opens with a holodeck sequence of Guinan joining Picard in a Dixon Hill adventure that we then do not see.  Picard and Guinan as private detective and femme fatale are two actors at the top of their respective game having fun playing off each other.  It’s also the only sequence Whoopi Goldberg was available for in the episode and is falling back on a Season 2 trope of opening an episode on something that is at best only tangentially related to the conflict proper.  In this case, “Clues” is built on the mystery of why the crew was left unconscious for a day when passing a wormhole near a previously undiscovered Earth like planet instead of Data’s claimed 30 seconds.  The tension of the episode comes not from the question of if Data is lying, early in the episode there is indication that makes it clear he is lying and can lie, but the answer of why he is lying.  As a mystery there is just enough to fill a 45-minute episode of television, however, it becomes quite clear that this episode was developed without an answer to the mystery involved.

 

While it may be disingenuous to point out a character inconsistency once the reveal is had that part of the reason Data is lying is that Picard ordered him to, it weakens the episode as much of the tension comes from Data saying he cannot answer and denies Starfleet ordering him to but Picard does not use the logical follow up that would put the reveal in the middle of the episode instead of the final act.  The viewer should understand as being glossed over as to allow the episode to happen.  This issue can be explained as the episode was written initially by Bruce D. Arthurs who is credited both with the story and script, however, Joe Menosky provided the rewrite as his second episode this season after “Legacy”.  This is Arthurs’ only credit while Menosky continued to write for the franchise so it is likely he is responsible for how well the ret of the episode works.  It is a minor note in an episode that is otherwise fantastic at building tension and paranoia around the missing day.  The resolution of the episode is specifically subverting the expectation of a sinister alien incursion, instead the Enterprise simply became too close to an alien race that wishes to be left alone, and they agreed to the memory wipe.  Data cannot have a memory wipe and will always remember the missing day; however, the mistake that caused the episode was the crew overlooking things that became clues: a botanical experiment performed by Dr. Crusher and Worf breaking his arm are the biggest.  

 

Because of the little cracks the last act of “Clues” does decrease in quality because that’s where the explanation happens.  The aliens of the episode, speaking through Deanna Troi, are not given much exploration outside of xenophobia and isolationism.  Marina Sirtis does get some good material when she is taken over, initially being horrified of her own appearance in a scene that is played as a scene in a horror film and eventually being allowed to play the antagonist.  The aliens don’t become violent, but Sirtis is clearly having fun being threatening and more proactive however briefly than Troi is usually allowed to be.  “Clues” is an episode that works on melodrama.  Director Les Landau does not block the episode as a typical episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, instead taking inspirations from soap operas to bring out the melodrama while the memory is in question.  The final act is shot with standard blocking, deescalating the tension that has been built through the first two acts which are blocked often with techniques called backacting.  Backacting is a technique that happens in theater and soap opera where two or more characters are having a conversation, often one that is going to be turning dramatic, but instead of facing each other, they are both facing the audience/camera.  They are often blocked on slightly different planes of the set which Landau takes full advantage of for dramatic effect.  It’s because of the blocking in “Clues” that helps elevate the performances.  This isn’t an episode where characters get big arcs: Brent Spiner as Data is playing the character as normal, perhaps slightly less human than he normally would, but for Patrick Stewart, Gates McFadden, and Michael Dorn specifically they are giving into the melodrama.  There isn’t a specific character focused, but several characters get their own moments to shine and find a clue to indicate that a full day has passed.  The line delivery from McFadden at one point is explicitly soap opera enough that you would expect a dramatic sting, without going too far over the top to put this into the camp inherent in soap opera.

 

Overall, although the resolution of “Clues” becomes almost too simple and is where it becomes clear that two writers worked on making the script work up to that point, it’s an episode that builds dramatic paranoia so well for much of its runtime.  The cast eats up the dramatic tension and the production uses well-worn tricks to just explore the fear of not knowing your own mind, even the reveal of something not inherently sinister still plays on that instability of not knowing what happened.  It’s an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation playing on an interesting idea over spotlighting a specific character and it makes it feel like a proper change at this point in a season that has excelled at focusing on character.  8/10.

Star Wars: The High Republic: Trials of the Jedi by: Charles Soule

 

There is an inherent difficulty in ending a multimedia event.  These types of stories have far too many branching paths to expect every audience member to have experienced all of them.  If the story is going to hold up over time there is an added danger of some of the stories to be inaccessible.  Charles Soule was responsible for beginning The High Republic and Trials of the Jedi is his novel closing it.  In writing an ending it becomes clear that Soule is touching on every arc that The High Republic had opened, meaning that although I have been reading all of the adult and young adult novels there are some stories finished here with which I am unfamiliar.  Soule’s style as a novelist is also to intercut between several stories in such a way that feels less like a novel and more like a comic book, a criticism I had with Light of the Jedi.  The final pages of Trials of the Jedi are where Soule’s style of prose works at its best, going for a visceral reaction of despair at the fate of Marchion Ro as well as a montage of where the characters’ lives are headed from certain happy endings, to bittersweet separation of lovers, to falling completely to the dark side, though with hints at possible redemption.  The prose works because the scenes are particularly short, Soule’s style favoring quick and snappy descriptions of actions and dialogue that lingers more on the emotion than exactly what is being said.  Soule also works on the logic that every scene should end essentially on a mini cliffhanger, so the pace of the novel is this back and forth between tension and resolution before that final montage brings the final closure.  For a novel this creates a staccato pace that does not ever settle into the rhythm that it should, though unlike Light of the Jedi because there is closure, and that closure is largely satisfying for characters that the reader has been presumably following these characters for the long haul.

 

Where Trials of the Jedi is most interesting is how Soule centers empathy.  The Force having a light and dark side does imply there is an objective standard for good and evil, with the Jedi and the Sith representing those sides of good and evil.  The High Republic has been questioning that morality at the core of Star Wars as a franchise and Trials of the Jedi commits fully to the Nameless being not inherently evil but misunderstood.  The breaking through of the miscommunication barrier by Elzar Mann and Avar Kriss feels like the first big breakthrough of the novel.  It’s where the tides of battle can turn and the story itself works around.  They are given a name, the idea of being Nameless indicating they are things and not worthy of humanity.  The Shrikarai as they are named is fitting as a name in terms of the onomatopoeic potential, but their own abuses are used as a way for understanding.  It is that breakthrough that collapses Marchion Ro’s empire and begins his downfall, though the final action sequence between Ro and Bell Zettifar is a secondary parallel of reclaiming empathy towards a villain.  There’s explicitly parallels to the films: Revenge of the Sith, Return of the Jedi, and The Last Jedi come to mind.  Soule keeps the path to redemption open for Marchion Ro because that is the empathetic thing to do.  He can no longer harm anyone at the end of the novel and it is a road he rejects, but the choice was there.  For Bell Zettifar it is also making the correct choice in leaving the path open, as Mann and Kriss make the choice to forego attachment and proximity for the greater good of the galaxy to provide the Nameless humanity and to stop the Blight.

 

Soule does not simplify the choice for empathy as a road without consequences either.  Ro is put in prison and given the option to improve, but the actions of those who follow him are also examined.  Ghirra Starros’ ending comes to mind as the prime example of someone who has not changed, equally lacking the potential to do so.  The outcome of her arc is that her daughter is dead and in her own grief she denies the reality, coping by rationalizing the death as her daughter following in her own footsteps and feigning death as an exit strategy.  This is after a genuine attempt to reconnect with her daughter.  It is essential that it is a genuine attempt at reconciliation that will never come to parallel that Ghirra has the potential to change unlike Ro, although her ending indicates that she will not change.  Compare that with Azlin Rell who falls completely to his madness by the end of Trials of the Jedi, that fall correlating with the Dark Side taking him.  It is notable that there had not been red lightsabers in The High Republic as far as I can recall until Azlin Rell, hoping to alleviate the pain, creates one by in his pain bleeding a kyber crystal.  Yet, while he has fallen and is likely on the path to becoming a Sith, Soule hints that redemption is still attainable, although that would be a different story to tell.

 

Overall, Trials of the Jedi in many ways is the story of hope returning to the galaxy while riding the fine line of finishing the stories of every character who has featured thus far in The High Republic in some way.  There are story and character arcs here that don’t even get a mention in this review because of how much Charles Soule has to pack in here, which is why this is for me stronger than Light of the Jedi.  His style is less of an issue with the ending of a story than the beginning, even if Trials of the Jedi takes a while to get going.  Once it does it reaches some incredible highs despite the slow start and the stylistic issues.  8/10.

Devil's Due by: Philip LaZebnik from a story by: Philip LaZebnikk and William Douglas Lansford and directed by: Tom Benko

 

“Devil’s Due” is written by: Philip LaZebnik, from a story by: Philip LaZebnik and William Douglas Lansford, and is directed by: Tom Benko.  It was produced under production code 187, was the 13^th episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 4, the 87^th episode overall, and was broadcast on February 4, 1991.

 

Like “The Child” before it, “Devil’s Due” is an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation that started its life as a proposed script for Star Trek: Phase II.  Unlike “The Child”, it is coming from a production team that is far more competent in what an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation should be.  “Devil’s Due” is also not an episode that forces a character through an assault and childbirth of sorts, instead taking a fairly straight deal with the devil as the con that it is.  The devil is initially couched in the science fiction language of a godlike alien who has purchased an entire planet’s souls and society after a millennium of prosperity, now returned to arbitrate the deal with signs and wonders.  These are the aspects of the episode that feel the most reminiscent of Star Trek from the 1960s, although it has been updated for the then present of 1991.  Marta DuBois plays Ardra, the devil in guises of the many devil figures of various planets.  There is a Klingon devil that makes brief appearances with a particularly unsettling makeup design.  It’s just a Klingon with a mouth that is split almost into a beak which is effective with its creep factor.  Ardra as a character is also just a particularly fun portrayal, director Tom Benko clearly telling DuBois to channel John de Lancie as Q.  DuBois is not playing a devilish character as a temptress outside of a select few scenes, but as an agent of chaos, taking advantage of the letter of the contract over the spirit of the contract.

 

The back half of the episode is a courtroom drama to untangle the contract that this society signed a millennium ago in the hopes of finding a loophole as Ardra is working to the letter and not the spirit of the contract.  The running theory is that Ardra is actually not the devil figure, but somebody else taking advantage of a contract put on a society.  Again it is DuBois’ performance in this sequence that is particularly fun as there is rightly the question of whether or not the devil would have to use mystic powers to give this society prosperity and perform her actions or technology.  It is eventually revealed that she is a con artist and whatever deal this society made was not with her, if a deal was made at all.  The ending is a nice little subversion of the original series trope of a godlike alien being responsible for an episode, again this script being structurally and philosophically close to an episode of the original series.  Where the episode really succeeds is adding itself to the large pile of episodes focused on Data as a character.  It opens with Data performing an excerpt from A Christmas Carol on the holodeck and Brent Spiner playing Data playing Ebeneezer Scrooge is this fascinating layered performance of someone who would be a good Scrooge play Scrooge far worse than he could to keep in character as Data.  Data is actually giving a good performance as Scrooge, he is imitating the emotions and those imitations are what acting is all about according to certain schools of thought.  This connects to the trial in the back half of the episode where Data is the arbiter due to his impartiality.  This is a small element and clearly meant to put Data at odds with his own sense of justice, using his own ability to approximate emotion to give Picard and company time to find the loophole for the conclusion.

 

Overall, the biggest drawback to “Devil’s Due” is the clear fact that it was meant to be an episode of Star Trek: Phase II.  While the performances across the board are great and Tom Benko’s direction focuses on the chaos and the character, the script is one that feels often from a different time brought thirty years into the future.  It’s different from what Star Trek: The Next Generation has become but that does not make it a bad episode, it just does not make it particularly notable when compared to the episodes around it.  On its own merits “Devil’s Due” is a good time, a pastiche of a story archetype that has been around for centuries.  7/10.