Chain of Command: Part II (⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑)

This episode is widely regarded as one of TNG’s most impressive, and rightly so. The scenes between Picard and his Cardassian torturer, Gul Madred, are disturbing, compelling, and complex, and they simultaneously flesh out the Cardassians as a (still relatively new) part of the Trek world, provide insightful reflections on the psychology of torture, and constitute a tour de force not only with regard to the always-fascinating Jean-Luc Picard as a character, but also (obviously) for Patrick Stewart as an actor. Meanwhile, the shipboard side of the episode improves on what part one already set up with Captain Jellico, and the episode as a whole achieves some interesting thematic resonances between its two storylines. As I commented in my review of part one, “Chain of Command” stands as the only TNG two-parter whose second part is better than its first part. Part two is not without its own flaws, but even its weakest elements are a lot of fun, while its stronger elements are absolutely riveting.

On the shipboard side, part two does a better job than part one with Captain Jellico in two ways: First, while continuing to depict him as a flawed human being trying too hard to compensate for his own lack of confidence, as well as someone who is more comfortable with out-and-out military solutions to problems than what we’re used to, part two also shows us that despite his issues, he actually can be an effective captain. And second, it offers up a genuine (and coherent) narrative arc for the character, wherein he has to, in effect, “admit weakness” by asking Riker for help (after first listening to the commander speak his mind about him, no less) in order for his plan to succeed. Of course, this does make this half of the episode yet another instance of centering a story on a guest character rather than on one of “our” characters, which prompts me to speculate about how the story might have been even stronger if there were an arc for Riker as well. I mean, I entirely agree with Riker’s assessment of Jellico as not a “particularly good captain” (closed-minded, control freak, incapable of motivating or inspiring his subordinates, etc.), whereas I find Jellico’s critique of Riker (that he’s willful and insubordinate) overblown. After all, even though Riker does challenge and question Jellico’s orders, he doesn’t actually disobey any of them! Riker defends his conduct as being exactly what a first officer is supposed to do—and, indeed, as TNG’s pilot implied and as a future episode will futher confirm, Picard actually selected Riker to be his first officer for precisely the characteristics that Jellico finds so problematic in him. Still, Riker could probably benefit from learning to control his temper a bit more, and to employ more effective means if he hopes to change a superior officer’s mind about something. He has always been a bit quick to anger, after all, and has always been too easy to bait into pissing contests when provoked. This episode overlooks that failing of his (shouting at Jellico rather than arguing in a more respectful/deferential manner, for instance), and lets him take Jellico down a peg (deservedly) without forcing him to learn any lesson of his own in the process—and I have to call that something of a weakness, despite how satisfying I find the scene in which he tells Jellico exactly what he thinks of him. (Also, purely on a plot-contrivance level, the conceit that Riker is hands-down the best shuttle pilot on the ship is a little hard to swallow. It works in the story, so I don’t mind it too much…but really?) But in any case, despite being a mere two-episode guest character, Jellico is nevertheless well-crafted enough that I actually do care about his little mini-arc, and it’s satisfying to see him come around to listening to our people, and redeeming himself by having his plan result in Picard being freed (as well as to see him graciously step down and make room for Jean-Luc to resume his rightful place in the end). He remains “not a particularly good captain,” but neither is he a complete disaster…and maybe part of what the episode is saying, with him, is that not every ship can have a Jean-Luc Picard, and that a more flawed captain can still, in the end, get the job done.

Meanwhile, in the absolutely stellar other half of “Chain of Command Part Two,” we have in Gul Madred a guest character who is even more compelling and even more flawed, and whose characterization tells us interesting things about who the Cardassians are as a people while at the same time presenting him as a fully three-dimensional individual and not merely an archetype or a stand-in for his entire race. We do glimpse, though, how his individual life story is a microcosm of the larger history of his people, and at both levels, the story exposes the essential weakness that lies at the core of any bully. Moreover, even as Picard pokes at that weakness as a self-preservation tactic, it also serves to humanize the enemy and provide a basis for empathy, underscoring what I’ve said before about the Cardassians being, in many ways, the best foils for the Federation among the various established antagonists (Romulans, Klingons) of the Trek universe. The scenes between Picard and Madred represent both a clash of political and social philosophies between two competing civilizations and a battle of wills between two individuals. Madred, obviously, has the upper hand, and he subjects Picard to a harrowing ordeal, but it becomes increasingly clear that his posturing comes from a place of defensiveness. Picard pokes at him with things like his observation about the risks of teaching children to devalue others, but ultimately it’s Madred’s own desperate need to break Picard, and to prove the rightness of Cardassian militarism and its superiority over Federation ways, that reveal him as the “pitiable man” that Picard comes to see. Indeed, the contrast between what Madred intends to demonstrate to Picard and what Picard actually sees (“It must be rewarding to you to repay others for all those years of misery”) is a huge highlight of their scenes together. And yet, of course, despite this—despite Madred repeatedly losing his temper, and despite the moment when he slips up and accidentally addresses his captive as a person (“Ha! You called me ‘Picard’!” is a truly triumphant moment, notwithstanding the pain that he knows he’s inviting by saying it), and despite the fact that Picard never gives his torturer any of the satisfaction that the latter seeks—Madred does, of course, “break” him in the end. How could he not? The episode reveals Picard as the stronger person, but he’s not superhuman, and Madred has total power over him. For the episode to pretend that Picard could tough out the ordeal and emerge unscathed would have made light of torture rather than dramatizing its horrors. Our hero is fortunate enough to be rescued before revealing his brokenness to his tormentor, and “There-are-four-lights!” is obviously the episode’s most iconic moment, but the fact that his “victory” over Madred is actually a hollow one keeps things real, and turns what was already a fantastic episode into a truly profound one. Plus, the scene at the end in which he reveals this (confessing to Troi that not only was he ready to tell Madred anything, but worse—that he actually believed he could see five lights) represents some really nice character growth for our tightly controlled captain, who in the past has been so loathe to acknowledge his own frailties, so eager to shake them off and push forward. Is it because of his observations about how Madred is driven by his unacknowledged trauma and weakness that Picard immediately invites the counselor to his ready room for a chat upon being restored to the Enterprise, and confesses the humiliating truth to her without almost no prompting?

This isn’t hugely important to me, but I do have a bit of a plot qualm to work out before moving on: We are, I believe, meant to understand that Picard genuinely doesn’t possess the information that the Cardassians wanted to obtain from him, which means that they went to an awful lot of trouble to bait a trap for him (in a way that already stretched plausibility!) on the basis of faulty information. It also means that nothing was actually “at stake” in the Picard/Madred confrontation (apart from Picard’s sanity and general well-being, that is). And maybe the latter is fine, underlining as it does Picard’s point that torture is not an effective method of gathering intelligence and thus, when practiced, may be presumed to be motivated by something else. Plus, I suppose that the capture of Picard does serve a genuine purpose (providing the Cardassians with leverage that they try to use to force concessions from the Federation), even if his interrogation/torture does not. Still, the whole elaborate ruse via which the Cardassians lured Picard to Celtris III in part one ends up feeling a bit under-motivated, on top of having already made limited sense. Like I said, I regard it as a minor point—but one that needed to be mentioned.

Ultimately, the two storylines in “Chain of Command” (on the Enterprise and in Madred’s torture hall) even function as part of a cohesive whole. The thematic parallels between Jellico and Madred are clear: both use positions of power to try to exert control over others as a salve for (and a way of masking) deep-seated insecurities. The arbitrary shakeups to the Enterprise’s routines that Jellico demanded in part one (four-shift rotation, etc.) are even, arguably, his version of Madred’s determination to compel Picard to say that he sees five lights—a token submission, pointless on its own terms, but meant to demonstrate his power over those under his command. But also, just as the episode exposes how torture is an expression of weakness on the part of those who employ it yet stops short of pretending that it isn’t devastating for its victims, it also critiques belligerent posturing and Cardassian-style militarism without pretending that the Federation’s peaceful ethos will somehow always prevail over it just because it “should.” Riker is impelled by noble motives (forthrightly acknowledge that Picard’s team was acting under orders; launch a rescue mission), but admits that he doesn’t have all the answers (“I’m not suggesting you trade an entire star system for one man’s life”). And in most other episodes, with Picard in command, the plot might have resolved with our heroes finding some third option—a way to wiggle out of the impasse into which the Cardassians have maneuvered them. But here, Jellico matches Cardassian belligerence with Federation belligerence, opting for a “think like a Cardassian” provocative military approach to forcing the enemy to back down. In other words, for all that the Picard/Madred dialog suggests that rampant militarism is hollow and self-defeating, Picard’s rescue is effected by way of Starfleet borrowing from the Cardassians’ militaristic playbook just a bit. I mean…only a little, really. No actual violence happens, and the shades of grey in play are, shall we say, still closer to white than to black. This is still TNG, after all…but still, there is more than one sense in which “Chain of Command” serves as a kind of introduction to the subject matter that DS9 would soon be exploring.