“SONS OF MOGH”
“If you EVER try to murder someone on my #@&*&$!ing station again, I will murder YOU, $€&#@*!er!”
This one was a lot stronger than I remember. As an hour of drama, it’s engrossing and more than held my attention throughout, something the previous episode, “Return to Grace” failed to do (I actually found my attention wandering a little as I rewatched that one). “Sons of Mogh” boasts an excellent script by Ronald Moore, once again returning to one of his favourite themes of years gone by—Klingon culture—and superb directing by David Livingston. I’ll begin with the latter: Livingston keeps the pace tight and has a wonderful eye for visual detail, with a number of beautifully set up shots that utilise effective and unusual camera angles and brilliant use of colour and light. David Bell also contributes a superb score which really adds to the drama, underscoring the emotion, tension and drama quite perfectly. The directing and music were both weak aspects in “Return to Grace” and watching this episode just highlights to me how important they are in bringing an episode to life. A good script and solid performances aren’t in themselves enough; the craft has to be there, and admittedly Nineties’ Trek was frequently prone to fairly lacklustre directing and tepid music. Full marks for this episode, however. An episode that’s well directed, shot and scored will automatically get higher marks from me.
Thankfully, there’s also a great deal of substance here. What I love about “Sons of Mogh” is that it shows the consequences, in very real and personal terms, of Worf’s difficult decision to stand against the Empire and face social exile. That’s something we never really saw during his discommendation in TNG’s third and fourth seasons. The most we saw there were Klingon characters being rude to him—ruder than normal, that is. Here Worf learns that his decision didn’t just impact his future, but also his brother’s. It’s wonderful to see the excellent Tony Todd return so soon after “The Visitor”, and he’s virtually unrecognisable as he slips back into the role he first played in TNG’s “Sins of the Father”.
It’s quite painful to witness the previously spirited and larger than life Kurn so desolate and suicidal. This strikes me as perhaps the first time Trek has ever attempted to depict a character who is clearly suffering from clinical depression. While ordinarily, we’d hope that such a character could learn to heal and move beyond their pain, perhaps with the help of a psychologist and occupational therapist, it’s clear from the offset that this isn’t possible for Kurn. “Sons of Mogh” offers a fascinating exploration of cultural values and how one’s entire sense of self and self-worth is often inextricably tied to those values. Whereas Worf has the ability to question the predominant values of his culture and reject them where appropriate (as he does in this very episode when he realises that Kurn’s suicide ritual is not something he truly believes in), Kurn has no such ability. Kurn is a product of his culture and has never opened his mind to different cultural narratives and values the way that Worf, as a Starfleet officer, has. It’s desperately sad, because Kurn’s inability to question his conditioning and belief system means that, for him, there’s no way out for him other than death.
Tony Todd is superb throughout, and Michael Dorn also delivers one of his best performances, and manages to really sell Worf’s conflicted emotions. Terry Farrell also gets to shine, proving an incredible source of support for her new comrade, and also managing to sell the beginnings of what would rapidly become a burgeoning romance between the two. Worf’s attempts to find Kurn a new job and sense of purpose make for compelling viewing, and I also liked the way the minefield sub-plot eventually dovetailed into the main plot.
The episode’s conclusion generated a
lot of controversy, although, unlike “Tuvix” for instance, I never had a problem with it myself. I have to level with you and say that I have a friend who suffers horribly with mental health issues: depression, anxiety, self-hatred, paranoia and delusions. He routinely self-harms and, on occasion, has attempted suicide. If I could press a button and prevent him from continually running the same thought processes and mental/emotional patterns that keep him trapped in this self-perpetuating loop of hell—if I knew that he could reset his mind and live his life afresh—well, I wouldn’t hesitate. Our sense of self, of who we think we are, is basically just a collection of thoughts and memory. This episode made me ask, if you have different thoughts, different memories and a different name does that actually change YOU, the one that witnesses it all? It does, but it doesn’t. Kurn is still alive, even if he’s not called “Kurn” anymore and he has a second chance at life. Because he’s no longer blighted by self-limiting and self-destructive thoughts, he has the potential to live a happy and fulfilling life. What alternative was there? This guy was clearly incapable of seeing beyond his predicament and sooner or later would have found a way to kill himself. Worf was dutiful to a fault; he gave his brother the chance of a new and happy life by letting him go. It’s a gut-wrenching ending and really adds an extra dimension of depth and tragedy to the character.
I do have an issue with the lack of moral deliberation, however. There needed to be a scene where Bashir wrangles with the moral implications of wiping a man’s memory without his consent (it’s never explicitly stated, but is implied that this procedure is being done without Kurn’s consent). As it is, Bashir seems altogether too willing to perform the procedure—which I suppose wouldn’t be surprising given that he effectively turned Bareil into a lobotomised robot-zombie a year earlier! It would have helped if we’d seen Worf having to fight to convince Bashir, although I guess it may have diverted the story’s focus by turning it into a medical ethics story at the eleventh hour.
In retrospect, also think was a missed opportunity that we never followed up Kurn’s story once Worf regained his honour. Heck, this reminded me of bizarre real world example. Back in the Nineties, there was a popular boy band called Take That. All the girls at school were absolutely obsessed with these guys. When the band broke up in the mid-Nineties, schoolgirls across the country were so distraught that a national telephone helpline was actually set up to help them (I kid you not!). Sadly, at least one girl actually committed suicide because of the band’s breakup. If that wasn’t a tragic waste of life in itself, just a few years later the band re-formed and has remained active to this day. What adds to the tragedy of this episode is that, in about a season’s time, Worf’s House and reputation will be restored. If only Kurn had been willing to hold on and push through. I’d have liked to see another Kurn story at some point after this, perhaps one in which Bashir’s procedure had started to wear off and he found himself struggling with emerging memories of his old life as two personal identities collide.
As it is, I thought this was a great hour of drama; well-written, nicely performed, with superb directing and production. Controversial, yes, but sometimes a little controversy is good. The themes are weighty, important and worthy of discussion. Oh, and I know most people seem to hate it when Sisko shouts, but I rather perversely kind of enjoy it, and the scene where he chews out Worf and Dax (“now, both of you, GET OUT!!”) is just awesome. Picard would have been far more restrained and measured, but I love me some Sisko badass mode.
Rating: 9