1.15 — “11001001”
Plot: The Enterprise docks at Starbase 74 for a maintenance check, upgrades, and R&R. As the crew heads off ship, Picard and Riker (plus Wesley) stay behind to welcome aboard two Bynars to upgrade the ship’s computer. The Bynars are a unified pair from a planet where the inhabitants have become so interconnected with their master computer that their thought patterns have become almost binary. The improvements to the computer include enhancements to the Holodeck, where Riker meets and takes a shine to an program called Minuet, an intuitive simulation of a young woman.
Thoughts: I really like this episode. It almost feels like it comes from a different show. Yet it also shines a bright light on two of the weakest points of the series so far: the depiction of Riker, and the depiction of women.
First, the good. Quiet moments like those we see at the beginning of the episode–docking, praising the crew, folks getting ready for leave–are something we never got to see in TOS. It’s a lovely series of scenes. These segments do a far better job of humanizing the crew than “The Naked Now,” an episode which was designed for that purpose.
The episode is well directed, with a dynamic camera that shows the special effects, sets, and crew to best advantage. Dr. Crusher’s walk-and-talk with Riker is her best scene of the series so far. I felt for a moment like I was watching The West Wing.
Tasha and Worf’s blue catsuits (so they can play Parrises squares!) may not be the best costuming choice, but at least, for the second time in a row, Worf snags the best line of the episode. “If winning is not important, then, Commander, why keep score?”
I get a kick out of seeing all the extras milling through the hallways during the ship evacuation scene. Was I the only one who saw Wesley leave and thought “Crap! They’re in real trouble now!”?
The Bynars are cute and funny–a victory of makeup design, casting, and performance. They feel more like something you would encounter reading short stories from the golden age of science fiction than any other species encountered so far. I award bonus points because they don’t turn out to be malevolent.
Even the scenes involving Riker and the Holodeck are well executed, and keep the story moving at a sprightly pace. Yet, here, I have to stop and say “Really?” The writers think we want to see Riker order up a fantasy woman like a common commodity? (“Intimate. Less blonde. More sultry.”) Riker wants a responsibility-free simulacrum to fawn on him and cater to his whims. If not Minuet, why not a phone sex operator, or a rubber doll?
Then Picard comes down, and they appraise Minuet’s programming like ranchers admiring a heifer. I’ve rarely seen such a thorough demonstration of unconscious male privilege.
The actor who plays Minuet does just fine. Her French is better than Patrick Stewart’s! The scenes all work–and the fact that they work shows that they are tapping into social truths. They just aren’t the truths I would want to display to my young daughter. We would have to have a talk afterwards about what is wrong with that man’s priorities (Riker), and how to spot and steer away from his kind.
What we are seeing in these early episodes is the difference between sexism and misogyny. TOS was frequently guilty of sexism, in that it tended to reflect the dominant social norms of the 1960s by placing women either in inferior, menial roles, or on pedestals as idealized beauty queens. Even so, TOS tended to respect the agency and intelligence of these characters (even as Kirk shamelessly manipulated them), and gave us some strong counter-examples with mold-breaking characters like Number One, Uhura, Lt. Areel Shaw, Edith Keeler, and Dr. Miranda Jones. TNG, so far, while more balanced in its depiction of gender roles (no more pretty Yeomen serving coffee!), nevertheless seems more prone to see women as objects, or extensions of the male gaze, in a way feels creepy.
Three of nine TNG main cast members are female–a better ratio than one of seven in TOS!–but I suspect most first season episodes would flunk the Bechdel test. I was browsing some interviews with Gates McFadden online (http://www.startrek.com/article/the-doctor-is-in-gates-mcfadden-interview-part-1), and I saw her mention how nice it’s been to get to know Denise Crosby and Mirina Sirtis on the convention circuit, because during the series they rarely got to play any scenes together.
And Riker. Poor Riker. He seems intended to be the Kirk surrogate–sex symbol, adventurer, ladies magnet–but the writers don’t understand that Kirk’s appeal lay more in his confidence and sense of purpose than in his youthful good looks. Instead, I gather that female viewers strongly prefer Patrick Stewart. Riker tells Minuet that he lives for his work, but at this point in the series we are left asking, what is that work, exactly? Without natural magnetism, his attempts to womanize come off as slightly ridiculous.
It’s not that Riker is a bad character, per se. Despite his tendency to smirk, Jonathan Frakes has a strong screen presence. I would describe the character he’s portraying (not necessarily the one the writers thought they were writing) as a self-important, ambitious, jerky, immature guy, with at best moderate self awareness, who nevertheless sincerely wants to be a better person. He probably will grow into a better person! Perhaps by third season! People like this exist, and can be fun to watch, even as we groan at their behavior. Like when Riker condescends to Geordi and Data with the line “A blind man teaching an android how to paint?” Groan–there you go again, Riker, there you go again.
For all that, this Riker-centered episode is fun to watch. There is much to think about, and I did feel sorry for Riker in the end (abandoned by his fantasy computer program!), if not for the reasons that the writers intended. I give it a Grade: High Pass.
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