Thursday, April 5, 2012

And he's workin' the Riker beard, too.

Over recent years, I've found myself watching less and less TV, and I've finally come to the conclusion that there's a very simple reason: I miss Star Trek.

I should be specific, though - it's mostly Star Trek: The Next Generation, although the other versions and spinoffs certainly had their moments. (With the rule-proving exception of Enterprise.)

I don't deny that there have been some very well done science fiction programs over the intervening years since the cancellation of The Next Generation, but I also feel that there's some level at which they were all one-trick ponies. There's a point where Buffy the Vampire Slayer could easily have been subtitled "Sleeping with the Enemy"; Battlestar Galactica seemed to turn into a sort of paranoid schizophrenic experience in which anyone could turn out to be a Cylon; The Walking Dead is a weekly one-hour dose of the end justifying the means; and who knows what Terra Nova was trying to do. Even Doctor Who, one of my favourite shows, has a tendency toward rabbit-out-of-the-hat medicus ex machina solutions to plotlines.*

The Next Generation was different. I've mentioned in previous posts that science fiction is like an collection of odd left-handed tools stored in a toolbox that, like the Doctor's TARDIS, is bigger on the inside. Using that simile, Star Trek was like a swiss army knife that offered a multitude of clever approaches to any given situation.

I don't claim that TNG was perfect - I think we all wince a little when they rerun Qpid - but no other science fiction series has managed to come up with the sort of thought-provoking brilliance that characterized the best shows in its seven-season run.


Examples? Let's see…The Measure of a Man, the episode in which Starfleet is forced to legally decide upon the status of the android, Data: is he their property?  And in so deciding, would that mean that Data, and all androids who might follow him, would be disposable people - slaves?

How about The Drumhead, a sobering examination of witch hunts and governmental paranoia, with a chilling guest appearance by Jean Simmons as Admiral Norah Satie? Darmok, a clever anthropological plot involving first contact with an alien species that uses metaphors from their culture to communicate; The Defector, which dealt with questions of loyalty and self-sacrifice; The Outcast, which took an unexpected look at gender and sexuality issues; The Inner Light, a touchingly personal episode in which Picard lives an entire virtual lifetime as an inhabitant of a doomed planet - these were all episodes that succeeded in offering a level of quality far above the standard network fare.

In spite of my respect for those episodes and others that I haven't listed, I don't think that Paramount should rush another Star Trek series into production - again, the fate of Enterprise is a useful cautionary tale. However, I have this recurring nightmare...

Someplace in California there has to be a pitch for a new television Star Trek, as follows:

It's been 18 years since the cancellation of The Next Generation, more than enough time for all the teenagers and children on the show to become adults, graduate from Star Fleet, and prepare to take up their places on the bridge of a new Enterprise. (Or, in the case of their real-world equivalents, survive their post child actor years without succumbing to drug overdoses, anorexia, shoplifting charges, suicidal depression, or all of the above.)


Here's the cast lineup for the new show:

Thirty-nine year old Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher; Jon Steuer, 28, as Worf's son Alexander; Naomi Wildman from Voyager, played by Scarlett Pomers, 23; Icheb, also from Voyager, played by 33 year old Manu Intiraymi; and 33 year old Cirroc Lofton reprising his role as Jake Sisko from Deep Space Nine.

The supporting cast can be filled out with Hana Hatae as Chief O'Brien's daughter Molly, the three children trapped in the turbolift with Picard in the Next Generation episode Disaster - Erika Flores, John Christian Graas, and Max Supera - and Tom and B'Elanna's daughter Mirai from Voyager, who was just a baby anyway and which allows us to actually audition someone for one of the roles.

This is a frighteningly plausible idea, one which sometimes wakes me up in a cold sweat at two in the morning. Let's just hope that Wil Wheaton isn't eager to return to the franchise, I think that his agreement to do something like this could easily become the pebble that starts the avalanche.
- Sid

* Watching Doctor Who is a little like reading Sherlock Holmes stories. You're never expected to match the deductions of the hero, only to admire them.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Hugs your figure and costs so little!

According to Our Gods Wear Spandex, an interesting and detailed examination by author Christoper Knowles of the archetypal roots of comic book characters, surveys show that half of the population of the United States was reading comic books during the 1940s.  Now, to be honest, I'm a bit sceptical - not necessarily about the statistic, but about the fact that someone had time to do surveys about comic book readership during that particular decade.  Regardless, I recently stumbled across something that demonstrates that comic book readership at that point in time was wider than I would have thought.


Here we have a copy of Batman from 1942, with a classic simple cover that puts the spotlight - literally - on Batman and the Boy Wonder.  The back cover?  What else but an equally classic ad for Daisy Air Rifles, every boy's dream toy?  "Tell Dad to hang one of these beautiful Daisys on your Christmas Tree!"  (The astute reader will note that duty is added in Canada - plus ça change...)


Now here's Issue One of Namora from 1948.  Certainly not as well known in the modern world as Batman, Namora is the cousin of Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner.  (Sorry, that probably doesn't help the non-geeks in the audience, but just go with it.)  A bit yellowed by time, but still a first issue, so probably worth some money.


And the advertising on the back cover?  Yes, that's right, just what you'd expect - an ad for the latest and greatest in 2 Way Stretch Girdles - in Glamorous Nude, I might add. (Extra crotches only forty-nine cents.)  This is either strong evidence that comics had a readership that extended at least as far as ladies looking for support garments, or a testament to some unknown member of the advertising sales department who could probably have sold ice to Eskimos.

You have to wonder, though - was there no duty on lingerie in 1948, or did they just not care about Canadian shoppers?
- Sid

Sunday, March 18, 2012

And another thing.



Did Woola, John Carter's fanatically loyal calot, really need to look quite so much like the south end of a north bound dog?
- Sid