Thud.
In the review for “Vaulting Ambition,” I wrote, “If the conclusion to this season soars… it may redeem a season full of confusing tonal shifts and tangents. If it lands with a thud, thus will land the season.” “Will You Take My Hand?” despite being decent, low-key, and even reasonable at times, proves that the writers of Star Trek: Discovery had no idea how to end the season’s main story arc. It results in a season that, in retrospect, looks jerry-rigged, like one of Scotty’s brilliant improvised devices to save the Enterprise from danger. The key difference: it doesn’t work.
The Calm Before the Thud
The bulk of the episode takes place at an Orion outpost on Kronos, as Burnham, Tyler, Tilly, and Mirror Georgieu snoop around. The production design is good, even if the trope of Sleazy Space Outpost is hardly original. I was mostly reminded of Enterprise’s pilot episode “Broken Bow,” though we’ve seen similar settings all the way back to Mos Eisley. These scenes, with their sleuthing tone and smattering of character moments, feel like a mid-season episode, which is not a complaint. Tilly is a delight, and whoever thought of the “Tilly gets high” scene deserves a medal. (The rest of the writers, not so much.) Tyler also has an interesting role. As he and Burnham watch a Klingon game of chance where the players roll giant dice on the floor (again, great design), he snaps into Klingon mode, joking and jostling with the other players, speaking the language. It’s perhaps the series’ most effective demonstration of Tyler’s dual personality. Though he claims to be rid of Voq, obviously some part of Voq manifests himself here.
Burnham’s story about the fate of her parents is good in the moment, but in hindsight feels out of step with the rest of the episode. We learn that both parents were killed by Klingons in the family home while little Burnham, hiding in a closet, had to listen. Nothing new as far as genre tropes go, but it does contextualize the way Burnham instinctively recoiled at Tyler when his Klingon identity was revealed. My only question: why save this information for the last episode? Learning this key element of Burnham’s past might have shed additional light on her actions. The only outpost scene I didn’t care for was Mirror Georgieu hooking up with the prostitutes. She calls over a male prostitute, and I knew, I just knew that a second later she was going to call over the woman too. Because bisexual characters are always evil. It’s a lazy, offensive trope, and totally unnecessary.
The Thud Lands
Nevertheless, the episode was basically working for me. Until it had to tie up the season arc. And oh boy. I’m not exaggerating when I say that was the most stunning anticlimax I’ve ever seen.
Every plot development is laughably easy and all the story’s problems are basically waved away with a magic wand. Consider:
- Burnham learns that Starfleet has developed a superweapon and is contemplating genocide against the Klingons. I could deal with this if it had any kind of setup, or if the season really stopped to contemplate what it means, but the escalation of the stakes goes too far, too fast.
- The episode builds to a confrontation between Burnham and Cornwell, where Burnham decides to go rogue and stop the plan. Cornwell’s response to this act of mutiny? “OK.”
- Burnham beams down and confronts Georgieu, who is about to execute the plan by dropping a drone down a hole in the rock (a ridiculously small-scale catalyst for this large-scale plan). Georgieu’s response when Burnham tells her to back down? “OK.”
- Then Burnham hands control of the superweapon, and therefore the fate of the entire planet, to L’Rell (!), telling her to use that power to unite the Klingon houses. Excuse me? Who’s going to believe L’Rell’s threat without a convincing demonstration of her power? The shot of the Klingon ships turning away from Earth made me LOL. This all takes place in five minutes of screentime, by the way.
This reeks of desperate improvisation. With all the buildup we’ve gotten, and the awkwardly-shoved-in Mirror Universe storyline that took up four valuable episodes, I just cannot believe that this lame conclusion was part of a carefully-mapped out plan for the season. I would love to know what was going on behind the scenes of Discovery. I can make an educated guess that Bryan Fuller’s departure must have thrown the plans for the season into turmoil, and it was left to others to step in and pick up the pieces. They tried. The Klingon war storyline clearly wasn’t working, and they were right to discard it. But the ending of a story often determines whether the journey was worth it. This one wasn’t.
Suddenly we’re in denouement mode. These scenes have a nice tone, but they ring hollow because of how quickly and conveniently the season’s conflict has been resolved. Burnham and Tyler say goodbye. It’s nice, it’s fitting, but I still feel nothing for their relationship. Burnham has heartfelt conversations with her parents that feel as if they’re paying off story arcs that never happened. (Or at least should have been distributed throughout the season rather than all being shoved into “Lethe,” which is a long time ago in story terms.) There’s an awards ceremony for the Discovery crew, which is nice… in the moment. Burnham gives a speech about upholding Starfleet ideals that’s stirring… in the moment. Are we supposed to just forget what Starfleet was about to do? Condone the genocide of an entire race to save itself? And are we supposed to view Burnham’s solution as admirable? She just created a dictator with life-or-death power over an entire planet, which is about the most un-Starfleet decision I can think of. Instead of facing up to the darkness that was just revealed, we’re sweeping it under the rug so we can move on to the next season with a clean slate.
Even after all that, I was willing, just barely, to give the show the benefit of the doubt. And then the Enterprise shows up. Just when I thought Discovery might actually move on to something new, it hits us with a sadly predictable smack of nostalgia. This moment seems to want to be a reward, a punctuation mark on the season. But what does it say about your series when the entire season builds up to a reference to an older, better series? With that one move, Discovery may have finally lost me.
Fanboy No More
Nostalgia is a curse. What were once my favorite sci-fi franchises, Star Trek and Star Wars, are both lost in it. The ending of this episode reminded me strongly of a similar moment in Star Trek Beyond. After a decent, unmemorable sci-fi adventure, the film delivers a moment of nostalgia, when new Spock reveals that old Spock gave him a picture of the original Enterprise crew. It’s a touching moment. But walking out of the theatre, I thought, “How sad is it that my strongest reaction to the movie was that moment?” A gesture toward older, deeper, richer adventures. Rogue One was similar. My strongest reaction to that movie was a thrill at the sound of the X-Wing engines whooshing by. The freaking engine noise got me more excited than the film’s actual characters.
Since 2001, Star Trek has stopped looking forward. Enterprise was a prequel series, so that was built into its design. Though I felt that series came up short, that wasn’t because it was a prequel. Trek had simply been on the air too long and it needed to take a break. Star Trek (2009) looked backward to the original characters, but reinvented them for a new generation, offering a promising chance to move forward in an entirely new universe. Then immediately, Into Darkness remade Wrath of Khan (badly). Discovery could’ve been set at any point in the timeline, and it became another prequel series, leaning on tired old Trek warhorses like the Mirror Universe. I’m not interested in nostalgia. I’m interested in new life, new civilizations. For the first time ever, the ending of a Star Trek season has left me totally uninterested in the next one. Discovery may turn out to be a good series. But its first season feels more like an imitation, a gesture toward what Star Trek was, than the real thing. I used to be the type of fanboy who gobbled up everything Trek. But now, I’ve acquired the more jaded attitude of the casual TV viewer. If I hear it’s good, I’ll come back. If not, I won’t.
Miscellaneous Notes:
- Mirror Georgieu is a spectacularly bad captain, sneering at the bridge crew all over the place. I briefly forgot that her Mirror Universe identity was supposed to be a secret, since it seemed so laughably obvious.
- The “space whale” joke falls flat. Are we supposed to know what that is?
- “You were asleep and I’m an Orion.” Alien characters stereotyping themselves: this short-circuits the definition of the word “problematic.”
- “Kelpian is tough.” “You may find me unpalatable.” “You require seasoning.” I can’t decide if the food innuendoes are great or terrible.
Previous episode: “The War Without, The War Within”