Like “The Outrageous Okona” before it, “Loud As A Whisper” is another episode inspired by an actor instead of a pitch. Howie Seago, who plays Riva, is deaf himself, and he and his wife (an enormous fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation) approached the producers with the idea of doing a story about deaf people to dispel common misconceptions and to tell a story from that perspective. Even Riva’s chorus comes from Seago, who had famously played the lead in Peter Sellers’ adaptation of Ajax where the play’s Greek chorus had been reconceptualized as a team of translators.

Seago jokes he only got into the producers’ offices because they were once again out of scripts thanks to the writers’ guild strike and had nothing else to do, but I’ll bet they bought the pitch because it was a really good story too. The deaf community themes are as good as you’d expect, and are quite successful in showing Riva to be a person who, while different from others in ways that gives him unique advantages and disadvantages, is no more or less then them as a result. My favourite scene here is naturally the one with Geordi on the bridge, where he and Riva bond over the commonality they share. But this isn’t just a story about hearing, it’s also a story about listening, and the rhetorical pirouettes the show does to meld the two themes are truly elegant.

Most obviously, we have the two warring factions of Solais V. Riva believes that the source of all conflict stems from a lack of communication and understanding, and his negotiation method involves helping both sides realise they share some sort of common ground. And yet Riva too is unwilling to listen: He arrogantly dismisses the crew’s attempts to fill him in on the centuries-long war, declaring that all conflicts all over the galaxy are the same, and that he has the tools to resolve any conflict anywhere it might crop up. From the moment he sees her, Riva immediately starts hitting on Troi, and their “dates” consist mostly of him talking at her and trying to impress her with sickeningly faux-poetic platitudes. This episode is a terrific showcase for Marina Sirtis in general, but I particularly love the way she has Troi constantly roll her eyes in exasperation at the camera whenever Riva starts acting particularly obnoxious: The script feels like it wants the affection to be mutual, but Sirtis makes Riva’s advances come across as pompous and silly as they are. Which just makes her scene with Captain Picard at the end all the more sweet.

(I’m not a huge fan of Riva’s chorus being so transparently the id-ego-superego model, even though it does help add to the episode’s theatrical performativity, but the one area where this does help us is by noticing that Riva speaks mostly either through the id-guy, when he’s lecherously hitting on Troi, or the ego-guy, when he’s rambling on to Picard, Riker and Worf about the diplomatic pop philosophical worldview he’s developed through his years of experience as a mediator.)…

Continue Reading

For a run of episodes that inspired the phrase “growing the beard”, a troubling portion of Star Trek: The Next Generation‘s second season has been pretty dreadfully uninspiring so far.

These two episodes hinge entirely on hard SF concepts the show has already worked into the ground, despite how early in the year we are. They both prominently feature Data, or matters pertaining to Data, and I can’t actually talk about this in any sort of detail lest I risk “The Measure of a Man” post ending up being about 200 words because the show is going to come back to them *yet again* in that episode. They are both mediocre retreads on every level, this time not just of the original Star Trek (c.f. “Unnatural Selection”) but of Star Trek: The Next Generation *itself*. Even more obnoxiously, I can already foresee this being far from the only set of episodes I’m going to have to address in this manner this season.

One thing that unites “The Schizoid Man” and “Unnatural Selection” thematically is their shared exploration into posthuman speculation about humanity’s future. In “The Schizoid Man”, Ira Graves wants to transplant his consciousness into an android, namely Data, so that he might live on after his body’s biological death, while the scientists in “Unnatural Selection” hoped they might get to decide humanity’s future forms through their genetically engineered children. Both schemes are definitely of the techno-futurist, Machine Singularity type of transhumanism, and Star Trek: The Next Generation comes down pretty decisively critically of this in both cases. Or, well, it *tries* to, at least: In “The Schizoid Man”, this is basically an excuse plot for Brent Spiner to play a psychopath again, and if you remove the (creepy) details about Graves and his (creepy) fixation on his assistant, what you’re basically left with is another banal Evil Twin story. Yes, “The Schizoid Man” is just “Datalore” again (or perhaps it’s a gender-swapped “Turnabout Intruder”). Meanwhile,“Unnatural Selection” being basically a plagiarized knock-off of “The Deadly Years” means its moral about transhumanism essentially amounts to “don’t try to strongarm evolution with technoscience or you’ll evoke the plot of a shitty Original Star Trek episode”.

I really don’t have anything to add here that I haven’t already talked about in regards to posthumanism in other blog posts. We’ve looked at this theme a billion times already, and these episodes bring nothing to the table that hasn’t already been addressed in the context of Dirty Pair, whose deft blending of science fiction, mythology and spirituality Star Trek: The Next Generation eminently lacks at this point in its history, and even in the context of Star Trek: The Next Generation *itself* (go re-watch “11001001” or “Home Soil” for a far more nuanced handling of these issues). Although that said, while nothing here is a patch on “We’re Not Afraid of Divine Judgment. It’s Like Magic?!”, which is probably the definitive statement on posthumanism, Dirty Pair is an interesting point of comparison here for a number of reasons: Firstly, because after Ira Graves uploads himself to the Enterprise computer at the end of “The Schizoid Man”, he prints out several equations that contain the variables “Kei” and “Yuri” and something called a DP (Angle).…

Continue Reading

The Agony Booth famously called “The Outrageous Okona” one of Star Trek’s single worst hours, almost “And The Children Shall Lead” bad, in fact. Like most things involving The Agony Booth, I disagree pretty strongly with that assessment. I can’t understand why this episode has the reputation it does: It’s not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but there’s nothing unfathomably offensive here either.

(Well…actually I *do* know where the majority of the criticism comes from, but I want to avoid talking about that for a bit.)

“The Outrageous Okona” has a rather unique origin as far as Star Trek episodes go. Instead of being built around somebody pitching a central concept or idea, it hinges on one character. The titular Captain Okona is explicitly a thinly veiled stand-in for a real person, namely his actor, William O. “Billy” Campbell. Campbell had actually auditioned for the role of Commander Riker and almost got the part, were it not for a last-minute intervention from Paramount higher-up John Pike, who felt Jonathan Frakes was more commanding and that Campbell didn’t have an onscreen presence that would compel viewers to “follow [him] into battle”. But the production team apparently still had affection for Campbell, and this episode feels very much like their attempt to show the audience how he would have interacted with the rest of the main cast. Okona is certainly written as the dashing, roguish, womanizing romantic lead Commander Riker has the reputation for being, particularly, and admittedly excruciatingly, near the beginning (and yet also note how Riker is in many ways depicted as Okona’s foil here: Indeed, in spite of his reputation, Riker actually does vanishingly little of this sort of thing anywhere on Star Trek: The Next Generation).

But the part of Okona that comes most directly from Campbell is his wanderlust. Okona’s entire character is built around never settling down and always feeling compelled to travel from place to place and Campbell himself is much the same way: When offered a role on Ira Behr’s The 4400, Campbell flatly said he’d accept, but only if the show could accommodate his schedule, for he was planning to sail around the world soon after the show was set to begin production. As a result, Behr had his character temporarily killed off while Campbell was on his journey, and brought him back once he returned to the United States. It seems very much as if Star Trek: The Next Generation was trying to pay tribute to the actor through his character here, and it’s a textbook example of how real life is far more wondrous and exciting than anything anyone can consciously invent, and how actors as so frequently so much more interesting and fascinating people than the characters they become famous for portraying.

Campbell-as-Okona is the limit case for Star Trek: The Next Generation‘s actor-driven form of characterization and character development: We’ve already seen this cast bring their roles to life by infusing them with so much of their own personalities and interests, and this is only going to continue as the show enters its next phase of life over the course of the coming year.…

Continue Reading