Hero Worship (⭑⭑⭑⭑)

This is a rare instance of an episode that I quite like, yet don’t recall making a strong impression on me “back in the day,” and thus don’t tend to think of as a “classic” in the way that I do with most other episodes that I like. I also gather, from a perusal of other review sites, that it’s a fairly divisive episode, with a fair number of fans but at least as many detractors. It may be that the poor timing of airing right after another (and lesser) episode featuring a child guest character did “Hero Worship” something of a disservice. But taken on its own merits, this is an affecting and engaging story—and one that, in a move that rarely fails to earn points from me, does interesting stuff with Data.

TNG has a pretty lousy track record with child actors, but the one who plays Timothy actually gets the job done, in my opinion. He comes off convincingly as an actual kid, who says things that a kid might actually say, and he even manages to convey the character’s fear, guilt, and trauma believably. This is no small feat! On top of that, he—and the episode as a whole—manages to sell the concept of Timothy latching onto Data without it coming off as tediously cutesy. The relationship begins with the trope of the lost kid who only trusts the person who rescued him, but it quickly evolves from there as he takes an interest in Data’s android-ness. And then, as the story takes shape and he adopts his Data-emulating android persona, he continues to impress; he pulls off the Data impression with aplomb, yet never really ceases to genuinely seem like a kid, either. The gimmick of him pretending to be an android as a coping mechanism for dealing with his grief is a cool idea, but it works in part because it is not overdone, and it never entirely crowds out a broader “kid and his robot friend” classic sci-fi sensibility. Also, though, it is—as I said—just a cool idea. It feels classically Trek, in that Trek has enduringly been interested in both the wonders and the pitfalls of having feelings, and I find it extremely believable as a way that a kid in Timothy’s circumstances might react. It’s simultaneously moving, charming, and thought-provoking.

Importantly, though, the episode is not just about Timothy; it’s also about Data himself. Putting Data in the position of helping an emotional being cope with his emotions is neat, and allows him to provide a unique perspective while at the same time furthering his own quest to better understand what it is to be human. He’s not always the best mentor for a child, of course; no other adult, for instance, would critique the aesthetics of the kid’s model in the way that Data does. But when he then disputes Timothy’s despairing “I can’t do anything right” outburst in his matter-of-fact Data way, using the language of logic, and also explains that he is incapable of “hating” the model, this also has an impact that no normal person trying to assure the kid that he was good at plenty of things, or whatever, could have. The episode also has a bit of fun with using Timothy as a mirror in which Data can see himself from an outside perspective. But fundamentally, Data’s role here is kind of the opposite of what it has been in the various episodes in which he has had to prove himself to parties who are skeptical of his personhood (like Bruce Maddox, or Commander Hobson): he needs to underline his limitations for Timothy, so that the latter will cease wanting to emulate him and instead re-embrace the reality of his own emotional nature. This is interesting, and of course it gives us the delightful ten-forward soda-sipping scene, which features one of the series’s most poignant and thought-provoking expressions of Data’s quest to become more human. Timothy points out that “they” (Data) can do things that humans can’t do; Data counters that while this is true, he is not capable of taking pride in those abilities or accomplishments. Timothy, penetrating to the heart of what he himself is dealing with, observes that androids never have to feel bad. Data counters that he also can’t taste and enjoy his drink. It’s not that there are any really novel ideas here, but the need to get the essence of what it means to lack emotions through to a child prompts Data to talk concretely about it in a way that makes the tragedy of it more real to me as a viewer. (Though ironically, even the tragedy of it is something that Data himself can’t truly experience.)

Eventually, of course, some plotish stuff happens. The tech details about what happened to the Vico (and almost happens to the Enterprise) are minimally adequate at best, and are probably a bit too obvious (and even derivative of other episodes), but the character stuff that it brings out is affecting. I’m referring mainly to the scene in the captain’s ready room with Data and Troi and Picard and Timothy, in which the latter’s lie is uncovered, and he reveals the guilt at the heart of his trauma, and the adults assure him that he could not have been responsible for the disaster. The child actor again really impresses here, making me believe that he has been carrying this misplaced guilt around with him throughout the episode and (again) making me feel the tragedy of it. At its core, I feel like maybe that’s what “Hero Worship” is basically about: the private tragedies that we all carry through our lives, and the ways that we try to cope with them (successfully or otherwise). I don’t know…maybe that’s a stretch. But it’s how I’m reacting right now, as I write this.