My DS9 Rewatch Odyssey
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So true, this episode is mildly amusing but the pace is too slow, the extended gag is watered down. For a cynical street-smart dude, Quark sure seems naïve here.
From memory alpha: the toreador painting was the one Morn purchased at the auction of “In the Cards.”
Mark Allen Shepherd, who played Morn, was the guy Quark pulled from the memorial service crowd, to sit in Morn’s chair at the bar.
This plot around Morn reminds me of the Frasier episodes written about Maris-!
From memory alpha: the toreador painting was the one Morn purchased at the auction of “In the Cards.”
Mark Allen Shepherd, who played Morn, was the guy Quark pulled from the memorial service crowd, to sit in Morn’s chair at the bar.
This plot around Morn reminds me of the Frasier episodes written about Maris-!
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Well, it's a fluff piece but as with all fluff pieces, it's more enjoyable when its writers take it seriously, which here they didn't. There are too many inconsistencies, too many plot holes... So in the end the laughter is more theoretical than actual (meaning, that at some point you feel like you should be laughing except that it's not funny), and that's not good. It's the one and only time when we hear of "bricks" of latinum btw. How many bars is a brick worth?
Nice review though.
Nice review though.
Great review.
I'm kind of with you on this being a middle of the road episode. Considering it wasn't written by one of the staff writers, I'm not surprised.
It did have its charms, though. And it was nice having Morn be at the center of an episode, even though he wasn't even IN it until the end.
Mirn really is like the DS9 mascot... and just like sports mascots, they are seen and not heard.
I'd likely give this a 5, too. Partly because of Armin's great performances.
I'm kind of with you on this being a middle of the road episode. Considering it wasn't written by one of the staff writers, I'm not surprised.
It did have its charms, though. And it was nice having Morn be at the center of an episode, even though he wasn't even IN it until the end.
Mirn really is like the DS9 mascot... and just like sports mascots, they are seen and not heard.
I'd likely give this a 5, too. Partly because of Armin's great performances.
You forget about the Morn hologram.
I didn't forget... I just didn't count his hologram.
Though Dax's reaction to it was hilarious.
Though Dax's reaction to it was hilarious.
“FAR BEYOND THE STARS”
“It’s official. Deep Space Nine—BEST STORY EVER!”
I can’t overstate how much I love this episode. I’d say it’s certainly in DS9’s top 3, not to mention one of the finest of the franchise, and one of my favourite pieces of television full stop. It’s the first time Star Trek has truly explored the racism of Earth’s past in an upfront and unflinching manner and the results are powerful to say the least. Of course, a message show is only as good as its execution, and thankfully “Far Beyond the Stars” boasts an inspired and beautifully crafted script by Ira Behr and Hans Beimler, brilliant performances and lavish production values. It’s engaging, emotional, thought-provoking and still absolutely devastating after all these years.
The central premise is simple yet effective: the Prophets evidently trying to rally Sisko’s spirits by giving him a taste of another life in another time, perhaps in order to show him how far humanity has progressed over the centuries. The actual details are kept deliberately ambiguous and the writers thankfully forgo the need to overdo the technobabble explanations and instead focus on the heart of the story.
And what a wonderful story it is, too. I found myself immediately immersed in the world of Benny Russell, and have to commend the producers for so beautifully and vividly recreating the period of 1950’s New York. It’s an absolute joy to watch and perhaps the most wonderfully rendered and atmospheric period piece Star Trek has ever done. The fact Benny and his colleagues (who look remarkably like our DS9 crew) are writers for a pulp sci-fi magazine is an inspired touch, and makes the episode something of a Valentine to what was something of a golden age for sci-fi. Not only that, but it allows for some delicious meta touches. For instance, I’ll never NOT be delighted by seeing the characters sitting around a table reading Benny’s DS9 story and commenting on how great it is (“it’s a damn fine piece of writing is what it is, and Deep Space Nine is a very intriguing title!”). Is it self-congratulatory on the part of the writers? Perhaps, but they’ve more than earned it!
The characters are wonderfully drawn and brought to perfect life by the cast, who are clearly having a blast. It’s great to see real-life husband and wife Alexander Siddig and Nana Visitor playing a married couple, while Colm Meaney is fun as the robot-loving, Asimov-esque Albert and Terry Farrell is utterly charming as the endearing receptionist with a very Brooklyn twang. Armin Shimmerman truly shines as the fiery Herbert, a talented yet tempestuous writer with a social conscience, while Rene Auberjonois does a superb job as Douglas Pabst, their blunt, rather unlikable editor: a man whose primary concern is towing the line, pleasing the publisher and keeping the profit margins up (why did I wonder if this character was maybe a sly dig at Rick Berman?). As he tells Benny, “I’m a magazine editor, I’m not a crusader. I’m not here to change the world, I’m here to put out a magazine.” The fireworks between Pabst and Herbert make for compelling and fascinating viewing. If Herbert is ahead of his time, Pabst typifies the backward looking conservative type who aren’t necessarily bad people in themselves, but who care more about maintaining the status quo even if they know that it’s unjust and wrong. His justification for rejecting Benny’s story on the basis of his lead’s skin colour is clear racism, yet he sees his response as simply pragmatic because that’s just “the way things are”. Thank the Prophets not everyone adopted such a weak, conformist attitude. As the saying goes, “the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.”
The star of the show is, of course, Avery Brooks, who also serves as director, and he is utterly fantastic both behind and in front of the camera. One of the first things I noticed in his portrayal of Benny is that his voice lacks the strength and resonance it usually has when he plays Sisko. Benny is soft-spoken and almost rather shy and unsure of himself. He’s a man that has clearly had to struggle to get where he is and feels beaten down by life. In fact, as we see when he is walking home minding his own business and, later, when having a night on the town with his girlfriend, violence is a constant spectre in his life, and the lives of all those marginalised by society. It’s wonderful seeing Benny come alive as he creates his story about a “coloured Captain”; a beacon of hope for a better future, as Star Trek has always been to so many. One of the most heartbreaking moments is when his young friend Jimmy, marvellously played by Cirroc Lofton, openly scoffs at the very idea of a black hero. It’s the only time we ever hear the “N-word” used in Star Trek, and the way it’s used is a punch in the gut, yet I don’t think anyone could object in the context. It’s a sign that, back then, in the 1950’s, the very idea of equality was a hopeless delusion.
Something “Far Beyond the Stars” does remarkably well is celebrate the power of visionary fiction to inspire, to heal, and to open peoples’ minds to new ideas and new ways of thinking; to expand our consciousness. That’s something Star Trek has always done from the moment of its inception, and something, I think, it continues to do. But, this story takes place a full decade before Star Trek first aired, at a dark and deeply divisive time. People often tend to view the 1950’s as something of a golden age, and it perhaps was if you were white, heterosexual and had sufficient money in the bank. It would have been nice if Benny’s story had a happy ending; an ending he richly deserved. Sadly, Benny was a man before his time. Not only is the guy still recovering from the horrific beating he received at the hands of two racist cops, but the final beating he takes is far more painful: having the very story he poured all his heart and soul and hopes into destroyed.
I’ve seen a lot of people complain over the years that Avery Brooks’ overplayed the climatic breakdown. I call bullshit on that, and I hope the “What We Left Behind” documentary helped people revise their opinion. I think part of the problem comes from TNG, where a character’s pain or grief would largely take the form of a sanitised, stoic yet lingering gaze into the middle distance at the end of the episode. That’s about all the emotion a lot of Star Trek fans seem able to handle. A lot of people will never have seen someone have a mental breakdown, but those that have will know how accurate and real Brooks’ performance is here. It’s not pretty, it’s not restrained and it’s not stoic; we’re talking real, ugly-crying. The fact Brooks made people uncomfortable is good, because they shouldn’t be comfortable. Frankly, he brings me to tears each time I watch this episode, because he’s clearly channeling a pain that I’m certain isn’t manufactured, but is real and, as his fellow actors shared, he opened a floodgate that wouldn’t easily close afterward. Brooks’ passion about the episode is palpable and he excelled all round, bringing a sense of genuineness, heart and legitimacy and helping make this one most powerful episodes of Star Trek ever created.
Fortunately, the heart of the episode is about hope, and we get a wonderful closing scene with Ben and his father, Joseph, who makes a most welcome return to the series (along with Kasidy, who I almost thought the writers had forgotten about). Sisko finds the strength to carry on with his job by recalling Benny’s strength and the the positive change people like him eventually went on the create in the world. The final musing about perhaps his reality all being the dream of Benny rather than Benny being a product of his dream is beautifully poetic and meta; particularly as Sisko almost seems to be looking into the camera as he speaks the words. It reminded me of the words of the Chinese philosopher Chuang Tzu, who once woke from a dream in which he experienced himself as a butterfly only to wonder if he was, in fact, the butterfly dreaming he was a man.
Beautiful, heartbreaking, inspiring, painful and rich episode—one of the very best, most quintessential episodes of Star Trek, and television at its finest. Rating: 10
“It’s official. Deep Space Nine—BEST STORY EVER!”
I can’t overstate how much I love this episode. I’d say it’s certainly in DS9’s top 3, not to mention one of the finest of the franchise, and one of my favourite pieces of television full stop. It’s the first time Star Trek has truly explored the racism of Earth’s past in an upfront and unflinching manner and the results are powerful to say the least. Of course, a message show is only as good as its execution, and thankfully “Far Beyond the Stars” boasts an inspired and beautifully crafted script by Ira Behr and Hans Beimler, brilliant performances and lavish production values. It’s engaging, emotional, thought-provoking and still absolutely devastating after all these years.
The central premise is simple yet effective: the Prophets evidently trying to rally Sisko’s spirits by giving him a taste of another life in another time, perhaps in order to show him how far humanity has progressed over the centuries. The actual details are kept deliberately ambiguous and the writers thankfully forgo the need to overdo the technobabble explanations and instead focus on the heart of the story.
And what a wonderful story it is, too. I found myself immediately immersed in the world of Benny Russell, and have to commend the producers for so beautifully and vividly recreating the period of 1950’s New York. It’s an absolute joy to watch and perhaps the most wonderfully rendered and atmospheric period piece Star Trek has ever done. The fact Benny and his colleagues (who look remarkably like our DS9 crew) are writers for a pulp sci-fi magazine is an inspired touch, and makes the episode something of a Valentine to what was something of a golden age for sci-fi. Not only that, but it allows for some delicious meta touches. For instance, I’ll never NOT be delighted by seeing the characters sitting around a table reading Benny’s DS9 story and commenting on how great it is (“it’s a damn fine piece of writing is what it is, and Deep Space Nine is a very intriguing title!”). Is it self-congratulatory on the part of the writers? Perhaps, but they’ve more than earned it!
The characters are wonderfully drawn and brought to perfect life by the cast, who are clearly having a blast. It’s great to see real-life husband and wife Alexander Siddig and Nana Visitor playing a married couple, while Colm Meaney is fun as the robot-loving, Asimov-esque Albert and Terry Farrell is utterly charming as the endearing receptionist with a very Brooklyn twang. Armin Shimmerman truly shines as the fiery Herbert, a talented yet tempestuous writer with a social conscience, while Rene Auberjonois does a superb job as Douglas Pabst, their blunt, rather unlikable editor: a man whose primary concern is towing the line, pleasing the publisher and keeping the profit margins up (why did I wonder if this character was maybe a sly dig at Rick Berman?). As he tells Benny, “I’m a magazine editor, I’m not a crusader. I’m not here to change the world, I’m here to put out a magazine.” The fireworks between Pabst and Herbert make for compelling and fascinating viewing. If Herbert is ahead of his time, Pabst typifies the backward looking conservative type who aren’t necessarily bad people in themselves, but who care more about maintaining the status quo even if they know that it’s unjust and wrong. His justification for rejecting Benny’s story on the basis of his lead’s skin colour is clear racism, yet he sees his response as simply pragmatic because that’s just “the way things are”. Thank the Prophets not everyone adopted such a weak, conformist attitude. As the saying goes, “the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.”
The star of the show is, of course, Avery Brooks, who also serves as director, and he is utterly fantastic both behind and in front of the camera. One of the first things I noticed in his portrayal of Benny is that his voice lacks the strength and resonance it usually has when he plays Sisko. Benny is soft-spoken and almost rather shy and unsure of himself. He’s a man that has clearly had to struggle to get where he is and feels beaten down by life. In fact, as we see when he is walking home minding his own business and, later, when having a night on the town with his girlfriend, violence is a constant spectre in his life, and the lives of all those marginalised by society. It’s wonderful seeing Benny come alive as he creates his story about a “coloured Captain”; a beacon of hope for a better future, as Star Trek has always been to so many. One of the most heartbreaking moments is when his young friend Jimmy, marvellously played by Cirroc Lofton, openly scoffs at the very idea of a black hero. It’s the only time we ever hear the “N-word” used in Star Trek, and the way it’s used is a punch in the gut, yet I don’t think anyone could object in the context. It’s a sign that, back then, in the 1950’s, the very idea of equality was a hopeless delusion.
Something “Far Beyond the Stars” does remarkably well is celebrate the power of visionary fiction to inspire, to heal, and to open peoples’ minds to new ideas and new ways of thinking; to expand our consciousness. That’s something Star Trek has always done from the moment of its inception, and something, I think, it continues to do. But, this story takes place a full decade before Star Trek first aired, at a dark and deeply divisive time. People often tend to view the 1950’s as something of a golden age, and it perhaps was if you were white, heterosexual and had sufficient money in the bank. It would have been nice if Benny’s story had a happy ending; an ending he richly deserved. Sadly, Benny was a man before his time. Not only is the guy still recovering from the horrific beating he received at the hands of two racist cops, but the final beating he takes is far more painful: having the very story he poured all his heart and soul and hopes into destroyed.
I’ve seen a lot of people complain over the years that Avery Brooks’ overplayed the climatic breakdown. I call bullshit on that, and I hope the “What We Left Behind” documentary helped people revise their opinion. I think part of the problem comes from TNG, where a character’s pain or grief would largely take the form of a sanitised, stoic yet lingering gaze into the middle distance at the end of the episode. That’s about all the emotion a lot of Star Trek fans seem able to handle. A lot of people will never have seen someone have a mental breakdown, but those that have will know how accurate and real Brooks’ performance is here. It’s not pretty, it’s not restrained and it’s not stoic; we’re talking real, ugly-crying. The fact Brooks made people uncomfortable is good, because they shouldn’t be comfortable. Frankly, he brings me to tears each time I watch this episode, because he’s clearly channeling a pain that I’m certain isn’t manufactured, but is real and, as his fellow actors shared, he opened a floodgate that wouldn’t easily close afterward. Brooks’ passion about the episode is palpable and he excelled all round, bringing a sense of genuineness, heart and legitimacy and helping make this one most powerful episodes of Star Trek ever created.
Fortunately, the heart of the episode is about hope, and we get a wonderful closing scene with Ben and his father, Joseph, who makes a most welcome return to the series (along with Kasidy, who I almost thought the writers had forgotten about). Sisko finds the strength to carry on with his job by recalling Benny’s strength and the the positive change people like him eventually went on the create in the world. The final musing about perhaps his reality all being the dream of Benny rather than Benny being a product of his dream is beautifully poetic and meta; particularly as Sisko almost seems to be looking into the camera as he speaks the words. It reminded me of the words of the Chinese philosopher Chuang Tzu, who once woke from a dream in which he experienced himself as a butterfly only to wonder if he was, in fact, the butterfly dreaming he was a man.
Beautiful, heartbreaking, inspiring, painful and rich episode—one of the very best, most quintessential episodes of Star Trek, and television at its finest. Rating: 10
Fantastic review for a fantastic episode!
I can't really add anything to your eloquent review. A 10 for, too.
I can't really add anything to your eloquent review. A 10 for, too.
Wonderful review. This episode is a masterpiece, for all the reasons you mention....a high point in the Star Trek franchise, if not THE high point. Avery Brooks’ performance was just gut-wrenching, and the 50’s sets, costumes, dialogue were amazing. Loved seeing all the actors without makeup.
Interesting that TNG doesn’t have a race theme episode….TOS had “Let that be your last battlefield” but that was allegorical.
There is no resolution in the Benny Russell story....Sisko was convinced to stay and finish the job he started, by witnessing that “hope and despair walk arm in arm” as street preacher Joseph says. He is both the dreamer and the dream-- resonates with Martin Luther King.
Interesting that TNG doesn’t have a race theme episode….TOS had “Let that be your last battlefield” but that was allegorical.
There is no resolution in the Benny Russell story....Sisko was convinced to stay and finish the job he started, by witnessing that “hope and despair walk arm in arm” as street preacher Joseph says. He is both the dreamer and the dream-- resonates with Martin Luther King.
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Very nice episode and it was great seeing Quark, Odo, Martok, Nog, Dukat, Weyoun (what happened to Rom?) out of makeup... I am not forgetting anyone, am I?
Two thumbs up on the review.
Two thumbs up on the review.
Far Beyond the Stars: 11 out of 10. Screw conventions!
“ONE LITTLE SHIP”
Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Worf? Not Jadzia.
And now for something completely different...! I must admit, this may not be a popular opinion, but “One Little Ship” has always been something of a guilty pleasure for me. While the plot is undeniably ludicrous—as the writers are well aware given the comedic tone and the fact the characters repeatedly mock the absurdity of the situation—it’s nevertheless one of the more entertaining episodes of the season. If you have the ability to suspend disbelief and go with the madness, “One Little Ship” is pure fun; not an episode to be taken at all seriously, but rather enjoyed as a unashamedly dumb, action-adventure comedy with its tongue firmly in its cheek.
Again, let’s be clear about one thing: the idea of a runabout and its crew being shrunk down to the size of a coffee cup is ridiculous in itself, but the fact it’s intentional heightens the incredulity. I also don’t know why Starfleet didn’t assign a science vessel to investigate the anomaly especially when our crew have important jobs at a pivotal outpost in a time of war. I don’t think they full explain why they needed PEOPLE on board the Rubicon when it shrunk. Surely this would be the ideal opportunity to use remote control or some drones; something we sadly rarely see in older-Trek. I’m first to admit it doesn’t make a whit of sense. But, let’s face it, just how many Star Trek episodes are there that don’t entirely make sense. Even the transporter and warp drive, staples taken for absolute granted on Trek, are pure fantasy rather than science.
Fortunately, the writers acknowledge the silliness and lean into it rather than playing it straight, by having Kira break into hysterics in the very opening scene. I found it easier to accept the absurdity by knowing we’re meant to find it absurd. That said, Star Trek is no stranger to absurdity. I’m not even necessarily talking about extremes such as “Threshold” and “Spock’s Brain”, but we constantly see manipulations in the dimension of time in the Trek universe, so why not manipulations in the dimension of space? I guess, for some fans, this episode sailed too lose to what they consider goofy B-movie territory, and it does walk a very fine line, but I really didn’t have a problem with it for the simple reason that it is well executed and entertaining. The script is filled with some great one-liners, humorous banter and wonderful comedy moments. There are plenty of zingy quips about size from the opening scene (Worf: “I do not see what is funny about being small.” Nog, rather more earnest: “Neither do I!”) and the Bashir and O’Brien double act is as entertaining and amusing as it has ever been, with Dax also in good form as she commands this highly unusual little mission.
The involvement of the Jem’Hadar, who commandeer the Defiant just a little too easily for my taste, made the episode rather reminiscent of TNG’s “Rascals”, which isn’t a good thing in my book, but the directing by Allan Kroeker is brilliant and he really ratchets up the tension and keeps the pace tight and the visuals strong. Unfortunately, the Jem’Hadar portrayal is decidedly mixed. I like the basic idea of two breeds of Jem’Hadar now having to coexist: those who originated in the Gamma Quadrant and those specifically engineered to fight in the Alpha Quadrant. The Alphas are now running the show and see themselves as superior to the Gammas, and their hubris is certainly their downfall in this instance. I was surprised we never saw this thread expanded in future episodes because it really feels like the setup for something interesting to come. Alas, writers Bradley Thompson and David Weddle don’t do a particularly good job of incorporating this element in a natural and subtle manner. There’s a lot of blatant exposition, including the Second’s inappropriate admission to Sisko in the turbolift and the First and Second having an extended chat with the Vorta Gelnon about it (the latter making his first appearance in the series since the “In Purgatory’s Shadow”/“By Inferno’s Light” two-parter a year previously). It’s also hard to escape the fact the Jem’Hadar are ultimately defeated by their own incompetence here. It makes sense the Jem’Hadar wouldn’t know how to operate Starfleet technology, but the crew should never have been in a position to converse and conspire.
Ultimately, the plot is predictable and we all know that our little ship (which looks extremely cute, by the way, reminding me a little of the quirky joy that was “*BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED”) will ultimately save the day. There are no real surprises, but, again, it’s an episode crackling with sparky dialogue, good performances, directing and some gorgeous FX shots. The highlight for me is the episode’s closing scene in Quark’s. The Worf and Jadzia poem was genuinely sweet and amusing (I find I’ve been enjoying their scenes and chemistry together so much more since they got married), and the practical joke Odo and Quark pull on Miles and Julian, making them think they haven’t quite regrown to the right size, is a genuine hoot and perfectly played by all.
My rating for “One Little Ship” is entirely dependent on my mood. If I’m analysing critically, the hokey concept, plot holes and clumsy use of the Jem’Hadar are all minuses, but I can forgive a lot of that simply because the episode is so thoroughly entertaining, funny and charming. I’m going to give it the benefit of the doubt take it as the big, dumb action/comedy blockbuster I believe it was intended to be. Rating: 7.5
Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Worf? Not Jadzia.
And now for something completely different...! I must admit, this may not be a popular opinion, but “One Little Ship” has always been something of a guilty pleasure for me. While the plot is undeniably ludicrous—as the writers are well aware given the comedic tone and the fact the characters repeatedly mock the absurdity of the situation—it’s nevertheless one of the more entertaining episodes of the season. If you have the ability to suspend disbelief and go with the madness, “One Little Ship” is pure fun; not an episode to be taken at all seriously, but rather enjoyed as a unashamedly dumb, action-adventure comedy with its tongue firmly in its cheek.
Again, let’s be clear about one thing: the idea of a runabout and its crew being shrunk down to the size of a coffee cup is ridiculous in itself, but the fact it’s intentional heightens the incredulity. I also don’t know why Starfleet didn’t assign a science vessel to investigate the anomaly especially when our crew have important jobs at a pivotal outpost in a time of war. I don’t think they full explain why they needed PEOPLE on board the Rubicon when it shrunk. Surely this would be the ideal opportunity to use remote control or some drones; something we sadly rarely see in older-Trek. I’m first to admit it doesn’t make a whit of sense. But, let’s face it, just how many Star Trek episodes are there that don’t entirely make sense. Even the transporter and warp drive, staples taken for absolute granted on Trek, are pure fantasy rather than science.
Fortunately, the writers acknowledge the silliness and lean into it rather than playing it straight, by having Kira break into hysterics in the very opening scene. I found it easier to accept the absurdity by knowing we’re meant to find it absurd. That said, Star Trek is no stranger to absurdity. I’m not even necessarily talking about extremes such as “Threshold” and “Spock’s Brain”, but we constantly see manipulations in the dimension of time in the Trek universe, so why not manipulations in the dimension of space? I guess, for some fans, this episode sailed too lose to what they consider goofy B-movie territory, and it does walk a very fine line, but I really didn’t have a problem with it for the simple reason that it is well executed and entertaining. The script is filled with some great one-liners, humorous banter and wonderful comedy moments. There are plenty of zingy quips about size from the opening scene (Worf: “I do not see what is funny about being small.” Nog, rather more earnest: “Neither do I!”) and the Bashir and O’Brien double act is as entertaining and amusing as it has ever been, with Dax also in good form as she commands this highly unusual little mission.
The involvement of the Jem’Hadar, who commandeer the Defiant just a little too easily for my taste, made the episode rather reminiscent of TNG’s “Rascals”, which isn’t a good thing in my book, but the directing by Allan Kroeker is brilliant and he really ratchets up the tension and keeps the pace tight and the visuals strong. Unfortunately, the Jem’Hadar portrayal is decidedly mixed. I like the basic idea of two breeds of Jem’Hadar now having to coexist: those who originated in the Gamma Quadrant and those specifically engineered to fight in the Alpha Quadrant. The Alphas are now running the show and see themselves as superior to the Gammas, and their hubris is certainly their downfall in this instance. I was surprised we never saw this thread expanded in future episodes because it really feels like the setup for something interesting to come. Alas, writers Bradley Thompson and David Weddle don’t do a particularly good job of incorporating this element in a natural and subtle manner. There’s a lot of blatant exposition, including the Second’s inappropriate admission to Sisko in the turbolift and the First and Second having an extended chat with the Vorta Gelnon about it (the latter making his first appearance in the series since the “In Purgatory’s Shadow”/“By Inferno’s Light” two-parter a year previously). It’s also hard to escape the fact the Jem’Hadar are ultimately defeated by their own incompetence here. It makes sense the Jem’Hadar wouldn’t know how to operate Starfleet technology, but the crew should never have been in a position to converse and conspire.
Ultimately, the plot is predictable and we all know that our little ship (which looks extremely cute, by the way, reminding me a little of the quirky joy that was “*BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED”) will ultimately save the day. There are no real surprises, but, again, it’s an episode crackling with sparky dialogue, good performances, directing and some gorgeous FX shots. The highlight for me is the episode’s closing scene in Quark’s. The Worf and Jadzia poem was genuinely sweet and amusing (I find I’ve been enjoying their scenes and chemistry together so much more since they got married), and the practical joke Odo and Quark pull on Miles and Julian, making them think they haven’t quite regrown to the right size, is a genuine hoot and perfectly played by all.
My rating for “One Little Ship” is entirely dependent on my mood. If I’m analysing critically, the hokey concept, plot holes and clumsy use of the Jem’Hadar are all minuses, but I can forgive a lot of that simply because the episode is so thoroughly entertaining, funny and charming. I’m going to give it the benefit of the doubt take it as the big, dumb action/comedy blockbuster I believe it was intended to be. Rating: 7.5
Oh, I love "One Little Ship"! Probably more so now after the last few years of real world doom and gloom. I find myself seeking out light-hearted, fun, upbeat things to watch and read to counteract it all, and this episode is one of those distractions. I agree with pretty much everything in your (yet again) wonderful review, except I'd give it a 9 - purely for its mood enhancing qualities (I can't stretch to a 10 as the Jem'Hadar really are too stupid).
Now. I need to try and find *Batteries Not Included somewhere. It's been too long since I've seen it.
Now. I need to try and find *Batteries Not Included somewhere. It's been too long since I've seen it.
It's a fun if somewhat insubstantial episode, and it is a bit disappointing that the Alpha-Gamma Jem'hadar tension proves irrelevant in the larger scope of the series.
I do want to call out the set design when Bashir and O'Brien have to work in the now-macroscopic panel. It was pretty surreal seeing recognizable Starfleet tech blown up to ridiculous proportions.
I do want to call out the set design when Bashir and O'Brien have to work in the now-macroscopic panel. It was pretty surreal seeing recognizable Starfleet tech blown up to ridiculous proportions.
Glad I’m not alone in finding it a fun, uplifting episode! “*Batteries Not Included” is included on Amazon Prime, at least in UK territory, as I watched it a few months ago.
“HONOR AMONG THIEVES”
“You talkin’ to me?!”
Make no mistake, if you were judging this episode on the basis of the performances of Colm Meany and guest star Nick Tate alone, this would be solid 9 or 10. But while there are some meaty character moments for O’Brien, “Honor Among Thieves” is a mixed bag and the basic premise pretty much falls apart on closer analysis. It’s not an episode I think anyone really wanted or needed at this point. While the Orion Syndicate is a fine concept in theory, in execution, it’s disappointingly flat and replete with endless mobster cliches and stereotypes. While the series has done film noir successfully before (season two’s “Necessary Evil”), this is too derivative and weak to really pack a punch and, frankly, the whole thing seems to blatantly rip off the film “DONNIE BRASCO” which was released a year prior. It’s all very well being inspired by movies, as the DS9 writers frequently are, but I’d say it’s essential to bring something fresh to the table and really make it worthwhile, and “Honor Among Thieves” fails in that regard.
The very premise is extremely contrived. I always get annoyed when our characters are sent on important undercover missions, something for which they have no training or experience and which should be the province of Starfleet Intelligence. It’s suggested that a mole in Starfleet has alerted the Syndicate to the identity of Starfleet Intelligence operatives, so they may have been looking outside their usual agents for this mission. You could conjecture that O’Brien was chosen because his engineering knowledge would prove useful and alluring to Bilby, but it’s still an enormous stretch. We’re in the middle of a war and O’Brien works at one of the most important outposts in the Federation—and, as we see in a humorous throwaway scene on the station, he is very much needed. How much time did they have to train him for special ops? Did he receive any training at all? The fact Miles eventually cracks and confesses everything to Bilby only demonstrates that he wasn’t at all prepared or qualified for undercover work, lacking the mental and emotional detachment and dispassion essential for such work. In short, O’Brien should never have been placed in this position in the first place. Another thing, couldn’t they at least have changed his appearance (which seems to be as easy as pie in the Star Trek universe)? We have facial recognition technology in the 21st century—imagine how much more advanced it would be in the 24th?
The friendship between Miles and Bilby is the episode’s crowning glory and that’s a testament to the excellent performances of Meaney and Tate. The latter does a wonderful job making Bilby a complex, hard-edged yet likeable guy; and a dichotomous one, too—a devoted husband and father who loves his cat, and yet doesn’t think twice about needlessly murdering people. That said, the beats are predictable a mile in advance, with an earnest O’Brien quickly gaining Bilby’s trust, to the point where Bilby vouches his life to demonstrate his trust in Miles. While Meaney and Tate do a stellar job selling the friendship, if you stop to think about it, it’s hard to believe Bilby got to where he is by being so gullible and trusting. Why is he so ready to vouch for a man he barely knows and, in so doing, risk his own life and the lives of his family? It simply does not add up. When O’Brien’s deception is revealed, it’s a fairly gut-wrenching scene to watch, because we end up caring about Bilby, and both actors are phenomenal, giving the scene a real emotional punch. Yet, how realistic actually is it? Why is Bilby so quick to forgive the traitor he’d just forfeited his life for? I found it hard to believe a man like Bilby wouldn’t immediately pull a gun on Miles in a fit of rage and betrayal. Ultimately, we know nothing will happen to Miles because his name is on the show’s opening credits, but I feel he got off a little easy, even if his actions continue to haunt him long afterward.
I also found the ending overly depressing and bleak, even by DS9’s less than rosy standards. Was there REALLY no other alternative for Bilby? It almost felt cynical and un-Star Trek-like to me; an ending that exists solely for the purpose of making O’Brien suffer. I guess, at least, Miles got a gorgeous cat out of it, but it truly is a nihilistic downer of an ending and I can’t really find any meaningful or hopeful theme beneath it other than “trust no one”.
On the plus side, the episode features a truly stunning matte (or CGI?) backdrop for Farius, which manages to convey so much atmosphere and grit in the few seconds it was flashed on screen. Unfortunately, the show’s budgetary limitations (in terms of sets and extras) made Farius feel sparse and empty, giving the feel of a stage play rather than a living, bustling, seedy world that bursts into life on the screen. FARSCAPE, which began airing a year after this episode, was a series that fared far better when it came to creating alien worlds, and I’m not even sure how, because I’d assume DS9 had a higher budget; one that doesn’t necessarily always show on screen.
The involvement of the Dominion makes for an interesting, if not entirely convincing, twist. I’m not sure why the Dominion would care what happens on this backwater shithole of a world, and the twist that the Dominion are in league with the Orion Syndicate elicited a response of—well, so what? Again, I like the idea behind the Syndicate as it adds some grit and texture to an often overly-sanitised and beige Trek universe. However, that threat never really translated very well on screen. It doesn’t help that Bilby’s boss, Reimus, comes across as a big fat zero due to a truly bland and forgettable performance by Joseph Culp, whose woodeness is only surpassed by Michael Harney as Starfleet Intelligence contact Chadwick.
It’s nice, however, to see Leland Crooke make another appearance as the Vorta Gelnon, a part he succeeds in making utterly loathsome and far more menacing than Weyoun ever was. He plays the part as though Gelnon is a kind of bully school teacher mixed with the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. However, another big plot hole arises—if the Dominion is so desperate to keep their involvement with the Syndicate a secret, why is the Vorta beaming down, in public, with Reimus, and why does he then divulge his whole masterplan to a group of criminals he doesn’t know and most certainly can’t trust? Real stupid moves.
When all is said and done, “Honor Among Thieves” is a very mixed episode. The story feels like it was pretty much lifted from DONNIE BRASCO, and is beset by all kinds of contrivances and plot holes. Yet, it’s watchable thanks to the brilliant performances of the two leads, who manage to paper over a multitude of sins along the way. I’m not quite sure that good acting alone is enough, however. The DS9 writers aren’t particularly good at writing organised crime stories without resorting to tired old cliches and transparent tropes. I’d really rather they hadn’t bothered. Surely there must be better ways to torture poor O’Brien. Rating: 6
“You talkin’ to me?!”
Make no mistake, if you were judging this episode on the basis of the performances of Colm Meany and guest star Nick Tate alone, this would be solid 9 or 10. But while there are some meaty character moments for O’Brien, “Honor Among Thieves” is a mixed bag and the basic premise pretty much falls apart on closer analysis. It’s not an episode I think anyone really wanted or needed at this point. While the Orion Syndicate is a fine concept in theory, in execution, it’s disappointingly flat and replete with endless mobster cliches and stereotypes. While the series has done film noir successfully before (season two’s “Necessary Evil”), this is too derivative and weak to really pack a punch and, frankly, the whole thing seems to blatantly rip off the film “DONNIE BRASCO” which was released a year prior. It’s all very well being inspired by movies, as the DS9 writers frequently are, but I’d say it’s essential to bring something fresh to the table and really make it worthwhile, and “Honor Among Thieves” fails in that regard.
The very premise is extremely contrived. I always get annoyed when our characters are sent on important undercover missions, something for which they have no training or experience and which should be the province of Starfleet Intelligence. It’s suggested that a mole in Starfleet has alerted the Syndicate to the identity of Starfleet Intelligence operatives, so they may have been looking outside their usual agents for this mission. You could conjecture that O’Brien was chosen because his engineering knowledge would prove useful and alluring to Bilby, but it’s still an enormous stretch. We’re in the middle of a war and O’Brien works at one of the most important outposts in the Federation—and, as we see in a humorous throwaway scene on the station, he is very much needed. How much time did they have to train him for special ops? Did he receive any training at all? The fact Miles eventually cracks and confesses everything to Bilby only demonstrates that he wasn’t at all prepared or qualified for undercover work, lacking the mental and emotional detachment and dispassion essential for such work. In short, O’Brien should never have been placed in this position in the first place. Another thing, couldn’t they at least have changed his appearance (which seems to be as easy as pie in the Star Trek universe)? We have facial recognition technology in the 21st century—imagine how much more advanced it would be in the 24th?
The friendship between Miles and Bilby is the episode’s crowning glory and that’s a testament to the excellent performances of Meaney and Tate. The latter does a wonderful job making Bilby a complex, hard-edged yet likeable guy; and a dichotomous one, too—a devoted husband and father who loves his cat, and yet doesn’t think twice about needlessly murdering people. That said, the beats are predictable a mile in advance, with an earnest O’Brien quickly gaining Bilby’s trust, to the point where Bilby vouches his life to demonstrate his trust in Miles. While Meaney and Tate do a stellar job selling the friendship, if you stop to think about it, it’s hard to believe Bilby got to where he is by being so gullible and trusting. Why is he so ready to vouch for a man he barely knows and, in so doing, risk his own life and the lives of his family? It simply does not add up. When O’Brien’s deception is revealed, it’s a fairly gut-wrenching scene to watch, because we end up caring about Bilby, and both actors are phenomenal, giving the scene a real emotional punch. Yet, how realistic actually is it? Why is Bilby so quick to forgive the traitor he’d just forfeited his life for? I found it hard to believe a man like Bilby wouldn’t immediately pull a gun on Miles in a fit of rage and betrayal. Ultimately, we know nothing will happen to Miles because his name is on the show’s opening credits, but I feel he got off a little easy, even if his actions continue to haunt him long afterward.
I also found the ending overly depressing and bleak, even by DS9’s less than rosy standards. Was there REALLY no other alternative for Bilby? It almost felt cynical and un-Star Trek-like to me; an ending that exists solely for the purpose of making O’Brien suffer. I guess, at least, Miles got a gorgeous cat out of it, but it truly is a nihilistic downer of an ending and I can’t really find any meaningful or hopeful theme beneath it other than “trust no one”.
On the plus side, the episode features a truly stunning matte (or CGI?) backdrop for Farius, which manages to convey so much atmosphere and grit in the few seconds it was flashed on screen. Unfortunately, the show’s budgetary limitations (in terms of sets and extras) made Farius feel sparse and empty, giving the feel of a stage play rather than a living, bustling, seedy world that bursts into life on the screen. FARSCAPE, which began airing a year after this episode, was a series that fared far better when it came to creating alien worlds, and I’m not even sure how, because I’d assume DS9 had a higher budget; one that doesn’t necessarily always show on screen.
The involvement of the Dominion makes for an interesting, if not entirely convincing, twist. I’m not sure why the Dominion would care what happens on this backwater shithole of a world, and the twist that the Dominion are in league with the Orion Syndicate elicited a response of—well, so what? Again, I like the idea behind the Syndicate as it adds some grit and texture to an often overly-sanitised and beige Trek universe. However, that threat never really translated very well on screen. It doesn’t help that Bilby’s boss, Reimus, comes across as a big fat zero due to a truly bland and forgettable performance by Joseph Culp, whose woodeness is only surpassed by Michael Harney as Starfleet Intelligence contact Chadwick.
It’s nice, however, to see Leland Crooke make another appearance as the Vorta Gelnon, a part he succeeds in making utterly loathsome and far more menacing than Weyoun ever was. He plays the part as though Gelnon is a kind of bully school teacher mixed with the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. However, another big plot hole arises—if the Dominion is so desperate to keep their involvement with the Syndicate a secret, why is the Vorta beaming down, in public, with Reimus, and why does he then divulge his whole masterplan to a group of criminals he doesn’t know and most certainly can’t trust? Real stupid moves.
When all is said and done, “Honor Among Thieves” is a very mixed episode. The story feels like it was pretty much lifted from DONNIE BRASCO, and is beset by all kinds of contrivances and plot holes. Yet, it’s watchable thanks to the brilliant performances of the two leads, who manage to paper over a multitude of sins along the way. I’m not quite sure that good acting alone is enough, however. The DS9 writers aren’t particularly good at writing organised crime stories without resorting to tired old cliches and transparent tropes. I’d really rather they hadn’t bothered. Surely there must be better ways to torture poor O’Brien. Rating: 6
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Very astute analysis --the whole plot did seem derivative and cliched, with no real backstory on Bilby. Why was O’Brien assigned to this gangster undercover mission in the first place? His line, “I’ve pretty much had to get used to the idea of having bad luck” - says it all.
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- Oh, thank you! I'll have to ask Mum nicely to use her account (and I'll rewatch Lower Decks while I'm at it!)
