There is no denying that Star Trek: The Next Generation is a groundbreaking show. After a shaky start, slumbering in the shadows of it's predecessor, Riker "grew the beard" and around the same time, early in season two, the real potential began to show. It became obvious that Gene Roddenberry had picked a cast more than able to perform the skilled illusion - making a set of sound-stages, scripts and special effects a plausible glimpse into a potential future, one where some of humanities problems have been solved but some linger and are perhaps worse for it.
But I digress. This is not a review of the show at large. It is intended merely to point out that it could have been a catastrophe, when in fact this show singlehandedly resurrected the entire franchise by taking the fandom of the original series and challenging them. And this is demonstrated to incredible effect with the epic two-part adventure.
It may at first seem implausible that an ageing captain, a doctor with no combat experience and a chief security officer would be sent on a dangerous espionage mission, but thanks to the script good, justifiable reasons are provided and they set the stage. The Federation is finally revealed to be strained; stretching to meet bigger and more avaricious foes. The Enterprise crew is forced to work harder, faster and better to meet the challenge when Picard is replaced. Riker becomes an intermediary, an emissary for the misgivings of the crew. His stunning ambition and Kirk-esquire attitude send sparks flying when Jellico (played stunningly by Ronny Cox) steamrollers over the comfortable routine.
After an immaculate setup, the second part delivers on the promise. Sweeping narrative is something Star Trek excels at, and it is no wonder that that last three seasons of TNG contain more two-part episodes than the four that precede it. The two main plots have been intertwined well - both the away mission to discover a Cardassian base and the shake-up of the Enterprise mirror each other in intention, but work so well because of such contrasting execution - notice the extensive use of dark and light between the plots. Both share a common factor - they are guessing games.
In the second part, they become cat-and-mouse games. Jellico must negotiate a workable agreement with the Cardassians, Picard must endure torture of the most degrading sort - not just physical pain, but mental manipulation too. In both cases, the tormentor and the tormented change during the course of the episode, masterfully. When one appears to be holding all the cards, external factors are altered and force a radical rethinking of survival tactics. Both Captains are forced to look inward, to reconsider what they think is right and to admit at least a little defeat to achieve an advantageous goal (Jellico must barter with Riker, Picard must hold on to his hope while wearing down Gul Madred).
I could single out and extrapolate on so many great nuances of performance in many of the cast, but I would no doubt run out of words to do so. As someone who has a huge amount of respect for Patrick Stewart - not just an actor, but the highest class of the art, a true thespian - I will concentrate on that.
Patrick Stewart has often been responsible for the best moments of any work he happens to be in. Even the more mediocre works can be raised by one of his grandstanding, completely compelling speeches. He had always been a strong lead character and Star Trek gave him the exposure he needed to really capitalise on his skills. Here he is given a sparring partner so evenly matched the tension of his scenes - with David Warner as Gul Madred - are a sight to behold. The facial expressions, the subtle vocal inflections and the haunted look one man demonstrates when the other manages a riposte he could not have anticipated - this raises the medium of the television show to the heights of classical theatre.
Both run the gamete of emotions - anger, passion, love, hatred, despair and many more - and it makes for compelling viewing. The tension between the scenes with Jonathan Frakes and Ronny Cox comes very close to matching these heights too: with both plots seamlessly edited together and topped off with an exceptional musical score, the end result is mesmerising.
I remember seeing these episodes as a child and being completely captivated by the moral questions raised, wondering what I might make of the work the next time I saw it. This has been one of the rare cases where age and experience have barely dented my reactions and enjoyment, still forcing me to turn inwards after viewing and consider what my own passions and commitments might be worth in the grand scheme of things. If that isn't what great works of art are supposed to do, then I suppose I'll never know. Bravo. Hats off to everyone involved.
But I digress. This is not a review of the show at large. It is intended merely to point out that it could have been a catastrophe, when in fact this show singlehandedly resurrected the entire franchise by taking the fandom of the original series and challenging them. And this is demonstrated to incredible effect with the epic two-part adventure.
It may at first seem implausible that an ageing captain, a doctor with no combat experience and a chief security officer would be sent on a dangerous espionage mission, but thanks to the script good, justifiable reasons are provided and they set the stage. The Federation is finally revealed to be strained; stretching to meet bigger and more avaricious foes. The Enterprise crew is forced to work harder, faster and better to meet the challenge when Picard is replaced. Riker becomes an intermediary, an emissary for the misgivings of the crew. His stunning ambition and Kirk-esquire attitude send sparks flying when Jellico (played stunningly by Ronny Cox) steamrollers over the comfortable routine.
After an immaculate setup, the second part delivers on the promise. Sweeping narrative is something Star Trek excels at, and it is no wonder that that last three seasons of TNG contain more two-part episodes than the four that precede it. The two main plots have been intertwined well - both the away mission to discover a Cardassian base and the shake-up of the Enterprise mirror each other in intention, but work so well because of such contrasting execution - notice the extensive use of dark and light between the plots. Both share a common factor - they are guessing games.
In the second part, they become cat-and-mouse games. Jellico must negotiate a workable agreement with the Cardassians, Picard must endure torture of the most degrading sort - not just physical pain, but mental manipulation too. In both cases, the tormentor and the tormented change during the course of the episode, masterfully. When one appears to be holding all the cards, external factors are altered and force a radical rethinking of survival tactics. Both Captains are forced to look inward, to reconsider what they think is right and to admit at least a little defeat to achieve an advantageous goal (Jellico must barter with Riker, Picard must hold on to his hope while wearing down Gul Madred).
I could single out and extrapolate on so many great nuances of performance in many of the cast, but I would no doubt run out of words to do so. As someone who has a huge amount of respect for Patrick Stewart - not just an actor, but the highest class of the art, a true thespian - I will concentrate on that.
Patrick Stewart has often been responsible for the best moments of any work he happens to be in. Even the more mediocre works can be raised by one of his grandstanding, completely compelling speeches. He had always been a strong lead character and Star Trek gave him the exposure he needed to really capitalise on his skills. Here he is given a sparring partner so evenly matched the tension of his scenes - with David Warner as Gul Madred - are a sight to behold. The facial expressions, the subtle vocal inflections and the haunted look one man demonstrates when the other manages a riposte he could not have anticipated - this raises the medium of the television show to the heights of classical theatre.
Both run the gamete of emotions - anger, passion, love, hatred, despair and many more - and it makes for compelling viewing. The tension between the scenes with Jonathan Frakes and Ronny Cox comes very close to matching these heights too: with both plots seamlessly edited together and topped off with an exceptional musical score, the end result is mesmerising.
I remember seeing these episodes as a child and being completely captivated by the moral questions raised, wondering what I might make of the work the next time I saw it. This has been one of the rare cases where age and experience have barely dented my reactions and enjoyment, still forcing me to turn inwards after viewing and consider what my own passions and commitments might be worth in the grand scheme of things. If that isn't what great works of art are supposed to do, then I suppose I'll never know. Bravo. Hats off to everyone involved.