Yep…still on board. 🙂 TNG’s last-ever two-part episode, while not terribly deep, is a delightful bit of fun that wraps itself up with a suitably Trekkian theme. Admittedly, as often happens with this sort of episode, I can think of some ways that it might have been even better; still, there aren’t (to my mind, at least) any overtly wrong steps. Look, no one is calling “Gambit” a five-star knockout of an episode; there is no case to be made that it, in any way, transcends the usual limitations of the show that TNG was, or that it stands as any kind of classic for the ages. But it’s a fine example of TNG being its eminently enjoyable self, and an all-two-rare instance of a TNG two-parter whose conclusion is not a letdown. (It’s a rather odd two-parter in some ways, really; not as odd as the previous season’s “Birthright,” to be sure, but still a “smaller” story than most of the others that got the two-part treatment.) I would call “Gambit” easily the second-best of TNG’s non-season-ending/starting two-part episodes (after “Chain of Command,” of course), and better than the last couple season-transitioning ones, too. It also, not for nothing, represents the first actually solid offering of the final season, which had seemed rather bereft of new ideas up to this point. Season seven was definitely not a strong one for TNG overall, but “Gambit” was the first of several indicators that the show did still have some life left to it.
The continued plotting and intrigue aboard the mercenary ship is mostly fun, despite one bit that doesn’t entirely work. Having Baran assign Riker to “befriend” Galen in order to find out who his allies might be was a stroke of writing genius, and Picard’s reaction upon learning of it, and his comment that it’s becoming hard to remember whose side he’s on, are all fun. The initially wildcard-like additional complication of the “Romulan” mercenary character, Tellera, also helps to keep things interesting (more on this later, though)—and of course, how fun to get to see the actor who portrayed Saavik return to Trek, seven years after her last movie appearance! One thing that doesn’t quite work in all of this, admittedly, is Baran assigning RIker the task of killing “Galen” as some kind of test of his loyalty. The only way in which this makes any kind of sense is from the audience’s perspective; for the supposedly rogue Starfleet officer to kill some random relic-hunter whom he seems to loathe shouldn’t prove anything to Baran, right? Oh well. It’s still fun to watch Riker playing his role, both in his scene with Baran and later when he and the mercenaries raid the Enterprise. Also fun is Galen staging his little mutiny, and Picard’s private expression of satisfaction at being addressed as “captain” by one of the other mercenaries (though again, I have additional thoughts that I’ll get to below about how the plot plays out).
Back on the Enterprise, Data in command continues to be awesome. Now, I’ve encountered critiques from people who are uncomfortable with how Worf is written in this episode, arguing that it’s out of character for him to show disrespect for a superior officer in the ways that Data ends up having to call him on. I can understand this perspective, but I don’t agree with it, as I think it overlooks a couple of key things: First, Worf is reeling from both the recent (apparent) loss of his captain, and the subsequent capture of the Enterprise‘s second in command by difficult-to-track mercenaries; he’s impatient to do something in the face of all of this, and behaving emotionally, and I’m very okay with the idea of him crossing lines in this moment that he might not otherwise cross. Second, he is only just adjusting to the idea of Data as a captain (and, honestly, probably none too happy about it). Sure, Data has always outranked Worf, but there have probably not been too many occasions on which he has had to take orders directly from Data. Besides, there’s a difference between routine interactions with a higher-ranking officer on one hand, and suddenly dealing with the situation of your ship being commanded by someone whom you’re used to interacting with more as a peer, on the other—especially when that someone is very, very different from you (analytical and even-keel, let’s say, in contrast to your warrior’s passion and impetuousness). So, I don’t have a problem with how Worf is portrayed here. Plus, he does, after all, recognize his error upon being called on it. This is actually exactly what I want to see from Worf at this point in the show: undeniable growth from who he was back in the early seasons, but also, still basically the same guy. And anyway, the scene in which Data asks Worf into the ready room for a talking-to is, hands-down, my favorite scene of this entire two-part episode. I mean, for starters, watching Data confront someone who has behaved badly toward him in a way that would piss a “normal” person off, and show just enough no-nonsense sternness to get his point across while nevertheless remaining his rational, ego-free, androidy self, just does not get old for me. Secondly, I love the way his handling of Worf is so clearly an emulation of the style of his primary role-model for such situations; Data executes his version of Picard’s signature move here, first being the authority figure by setting a boundary and saying the hard thing that needs to be said to the out-of-line subordinate, but then softening it with a bit of a personal olive branch before ending the interaction. But third, and best of all: Where else but on Star Trek: The Next Generation could one ever hope to see the likes of a scene in which a Klingon warrior and an emotionless android, in the midst of a confrontation over military discipline and respect for the chain of command, pause to apologize to each other over the possibility that they have ruined their friendship? 😂 This, right here—this is such a perfect encapsulation of why I truly do love this show.
Moving on to some ruminations on the actual plot of “Gambit,” which will contain elements of both criticism and praise: So, somewhere around the middle of part two, when the “Romulan” mercenary Tellera confronts Galen, correctly guesses that he is actually Starfleet, and then “reveals” that she is actually a Vulcan secret agent, it ups the intrigue level in a fun way and starts to pay off on the promise that her character seemed to have in part one. My complaint, though, is that I rather think I would have found it more interesting if she really had been what she claims to be in this scene, rather than, in a later twist, turning out to be after the psionic resonator for herself (and I guess probably a member of the dissident group that she claimed to be trying to keep the thing away from (?)…although the episode doesn’t actually make that clear). In part, I guess, I’m just attracted by the idea of these two different, but ultimately like-minded, characters, hidden among the rabble of the mercenaries, coming to a recognition of each other and, as the two sane/responsible citizens aboard the ship, working together to see that things come out all right. In part, too, I have a certain level of fatigue with stories where you can’t trust the intriguing twist character reveals, because they’ll probably just be undone by another, later twist. Maybe I just liked the character too much to feel satisfied with who she turns out to be. Also, by making her the big bad but not further delving into the ideology of the Vulcan separatists (of whom she may or may not be one), she ends up basically just being a stock villain. (As an aside, I dig the idea of xenophobic Vulcan separatists—not because I think there are any interesting philosophical shades of grey to explore there, but just because it’s too easy for Trek to depict Vulcan as culturally monolithic, and as not being susceptible to the foibles and irrationalities of other peoples, simply because of their outward embracing of “logic.” There’s value in acknowledging that paying lip service to logic doesn’t automatically make you logical, and that a cultural evolution/utopian future scenario requires ongoing effort and will never be magically perfect.) Also, I have just the germ of an idea for an alternate plot resolution, wherein the mercenary captain, Baran, actually turns out to be the maniacal mastermind behind the whole psionic resonator quest. On one level, we would find out that he was only playing at being the “small man trying to fill a role too big for him” that Picard-as-Galen pegs him for, so as to fly under everyone’s radar—but on another, we could recognize his desire for the psionic resonator as just another version of the same weakness of character that has him relying on pain-inflicting implants to controls his crew. (And maybe the contrast with Data’s firm-but-friendly leadership in his confrontation with Worf could even be played up a bit?)
Among the negative reactions to “Gabmit” that I’ve encountered from some commentators, one involves a sense that the psionic resonator fails to live up to its hype, coupled with a certain disappointment at yet another instance where the “payoff” at the end of the story is “just” a message about peace and stuff (an obvious comparison here being to the ending of “The Chase”). And…okay. I can’t really argue with the fact that, as depicted, the resonator hardly seems like the invincible super-weapon that it’s been made out to be, even before Picard demonstrates how to defeat it. It’s too slow, too one-enemy-at-a-time, and—once you get past the “it’s turning my own mind against me!” aspect—honestly, not that much different in its actual impact in a tactical scenario from just shooting at someone. Nevertheless, I can’t help but to feel that anyone who expected some kind of hard-core showdown in which Picard somehow defeated a villain wielding a genuinely game-changing mega-weapon was neither thinking very clearly about plausible story possibilities, nor particularly in touch with what kind of show TNG is. For my money… Look, sure, the ending is a bit abrupt, and perhaps too easy. But for the resolution to hang on an idea rather than on some big violent shoot-out is sort of Trek’s hallmark, no? And there’s something compelling about the “twist” of Picard’s realization that the resonator maybe wasn’t abandoned because it was so terribly dangerous, but rather because it became obsolete on a Vulcan whose mainstream culture became committed to peace. It is dangerous, of course, but we disarm it precisely by choosing not to be the kind of people who conceived of and created it. This is some nice symbolism, and it “resonates” (see what I did there?) with the theme of cultural evolution amounting to the sum of many, many individuals making not-always-easy decisions, from one day to the next, to just (as it were) not be a dick. And isn’t that kind of what Star Trek has always been about?