TNG review post script
Jun. 11th, 2009 03:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakHere I thought I was done with my TNG rewatch, when upon doing some long due flat cleaning up procedures, up popped a few more tapes. So, a few more reviews.
Sins of the Father (a third season episode) was one of the episodes that earned Ron Moore his reputation as the go-to guy for Klingons during his Star Trek days. It also is one of the best character episodes for Worf and in its focus on politics of a non-human people, exploring not just their beliefs but their current day power struggles would be an obvious precedent for the way DS9 would focus on Bajoran politics. In fact, I'd go as far as to say the episode about Bareil withdrawing from the campaign for Kai in Winn's favour rather than allow the exposure of the late Opaka as having been, in one instance, a collaborator, is obviously derived from this one. But while the Bareil/Kira/Winn/Opaka episode works as a good ep in its own right, the more direct remake of Sins of the Father DS9 would later indulge in, in s4's Sons of Mogh, was inferior.
Aside here: the thing about the Klingon storyline in s4 is that it never felt quite natural to me, the Klingon/Federation fallout too obvious a MacGuffin in order to justify Worf's transfer to DS9. Hence Worf's loyalty conflict episode - and the "Worf gets framed for a crime, Sisko defends" episode - feeling like remakes with not the same emotional power the TNG originals had. Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy Worf on DS9. The Worf/Dax relationship to me made sense in a way the Worf/Troi one did not, for example; and Worf's relationship with the real Martok, as well as Martok himself, were great to watch. But the Klingon/Federation fallout still feels artificially inserted, and the way they immediately got rid of it as soon as they could return to the Dominion/Cardassia storyline, i.e. the one DS9 had been developing organically, in s5 is telling.
Back to Sins of the Father. It starts by doing something usually frowned upon, giving Worf a long-lost brother we've never heard of before, Kurn, played by Tony Todd (who'd reprise the role a couple of times as well as playing a fabulous adult Jake Sisko in DS9's The Visitor). Kurn works both as a way to show what Worf would have been like had he grown up in the Empire, and as a character in his own right, but his main purpose, I suspect, is to make the emotional suckerpunch at the end of the episode even harder. When Kurn delivers his news about their late father being accused of having been a traitor, and you watch this for the first time and have no knowledge about what's to come, you expect this to go a certain way; there would be obstacles, but at the end Worf, with the help of his friends, would triumphantly prove his father's innocence. What makes the episode so memorable - and precedent-setting - is that this does not happen. Instead, we get our first look at the Klingon homeworld and Klingon inner politics, and meet some new characters; the chancellor, Empek, our villain of the hour, Duras, and Worf's old nurse. Duras is just plain evil, but nothing else in the story is that simple. Chancellor Empek is a wonderful example of a shades of grey character. On the one hand, he does something pretty despicable here - agreeing to let the late Mogh be framed for the treason someone else committed in order to avoid a power struggle with the Duras faction, under the rationalization that with Worf in Starfleet, it won't matter whether he's disgraced and an outcast in the Empire anyway. On the other, this isn't played as villainy as much as it's played as realpolitik, with Empek sympathizing with Worf and having no personal animosity against him. Script and acting do wonders in conveying a lot with just a few strokes, too, as when Empek meets the nurse again whom he evidently had a thing for in their youth, greets her with delight and nostalgia, and the woman, no one's sentimentalist, just gives him a look, says "you are still fat, Empek" and goes.
The moment when Worf, after having found out the truth about the extent of the cover-up and the depth of the involvement of the High Council, decides not to do the simple Klingon thing and die in combat (which would compel his brother to avenge him, which would get Kurn killed), or what he originally came to do (prove his father's innocence, which he now can since Picard & Co. have found a witness and some records) but in order to prevent the civil war Empek is sure would come accepts a life in disgrace is still character-defining, and the following banishment scene, with everyone turning away according to the ritual, and Worf at last turning Kurn around himself, remains one of TNG's most memorable and is as achey as ever. (See, this is why I consider Sons of Mogh an inferior remake. Worf deciding that wiping out his brother's memory and giving him a new identity isn't just ethically questionable but a deus-ex-machina solution to that episode's dilemma, whereas the climactic scene from Sins of the Father is character grown and also mutual; Kurn knows what Worf did, and why.) The Klingon politics storyline started here would also continue through the seasons, with Worf's banishment not being reversed the next time it was revisited, but only two full seasons later. Remember that this was still pretty new in terms of Trek storytelling.
Reunion from TNG's season 4 picks up both storylines from s2's The Emissary and s3's Sins of the Father, and yes, it's another Moore co-written episode. (This where he gets bloodthirsty and starts the character killing.) K'ehleyr returns, as Chancellor Empek is dying and wants to ensure that whoever poisoned him isn't made his successor. It's not exactly a whodunit as one of the two candidates is Duras, though the episode makes the effort to give the other one, Gowron (introduced here and becoming a recurring character through TNG and DS9) a scene showcasing he's not above shady behaviour, either. But "who's the killer" is not the point of the episode. We get another great (and last) shades of grey turn from old Empek as he blackmails Picard into sorting out his succession for hm, and Suzie Plakson as K'ehleyr is even more fabulous than she was the last time, radiating intelligence and passion. I really appreciate that the show made her reason to visit political, and lets her showcase her knowledge and skills when she advises Picard on how to handle Duras and Gowron; sorting out her relationship with Worf and introducing him to his son is something she does as well, but it's not her main role in the episode. Which is why, when she dies, I don't think you can say she got fridged. Not simply because K'ehleyr has plenty of personality to spare, but her death is about herself (Duras isn't even aware she has a relationship with Worf at this point; but he's very aware she has tracked down evidence of the grand cover-up, plus he resents her advice to Picard in the succession trials). Of course, her death does motivate Worf (to go after Duras and kill him, never mind Riker yelling at him not to) - at this particular point, where it makes sense; Worf doesn't justify his further existence and behaviour by it. So by the time the episode ends, three recurring characters are dead, and the Klingons have a new chancellor; the fact that Worf is thus responsible for Gowron getting the position is going to have consequences throughout two series. And again, I'd say that the way the episode centers around Klingon politics, with Worf as a central character and the human characters in minor positions, would set a precedence for the DS9 episodes centered around Bajoran politics, with Kira as a central character.
A season 6 two-parter with torture, mind games, plot holes, fleshing out of aliens and powerful emotional scenes. I wonder which Star Trek staff writer could possibly be involved? Yes, it's another Ron Moore opus, co-written with Frank Abatemarco. It starts with probably the briefest teaser scene in TNG history, with Admiral Nechayev showing up and saying "I relieve you of command" to Picard. I must say, even all these years later I still find one of the crucial premises for this two-parter preposterous: to wit, that Picard, Crusher and Worf would be sent on a secret agent mission into Cardassian territory instead of, you know, professional spies. Yes, it would be six more years before DS9 would establish Section 31, but a more regular Federation secret service, Starfleet Intelligence, already existed. Chain of Command tries to justify Picard being sent on this mission by declaring he's one of only three captains to have practical experience with the secret weapon MacGuffin of the story, and the other two are already retired, but that still doesn't explain Crusher and Worf instead of, as I said before, pros. Now, the whole thing is revealed to be a Cardassian trap anyway, something they set up to capture Picard, so my personal fanwank of why the Federation didn't just fell for it but utterly failed to provide professional back-up for a delicate spying mission (is Worf anyone's idea of a discreet operative in Cardassian territory? Bueller?) is that actually, someone in Section 31 was pulling strings to make it so because they thought of the Cardassians captured and killed the captain of the Enterprise it would be a great propaganda reason to either start a war or re-negotiate that DMZ settlement. End of conspiracy theory. Also end of nitpicking.
The other reason why Picard is relieved of command at the start of this two parter - other than so he can get on a spy mission and can get captured, I mean - is so the show can play out a plot that was pretty innovative at the time, because it was a twist on a popular Trek cliché. To wit: the cliché of Starfleet sending another captain (or Admiral, or whomever) to replace Our Captain, and the other guy would of course be then shown to be not as competent, if not outright evil and/or crazy; at the very least, he'd be in for a nervous breakdown or two. At the crucial climax, Our Captain would save the day, and the other guy would either die or slink of in shame. One of the earliest examples of this story I can think of would be Commander Decker (in the TOS episode with the planet eater); one of the latest would be poor John Harriman, the captain of the Enterprise - B in Generations, who suffers the additional indignity of being reduced to comic relief, saying "it won't be there until Tuesday" at infinitum so Kirk can heroically take over command.
Now, in Chain of Command, the guy taking over command from Picard is Edward Jellico. Who manages to make Picard positively fuzzy and brimming with openness by comparison, is abrasive and definitely not someone you'd send on an exploration mission; the guy screams military through and through. But lo and behold, he's not a) evil, b) crazy, or c) incompetent. He's a control freak and manages to alienate Riker, Geordi and Troi in quick order, but not only do his strategies through the two parter pay off, but he's shown to be sincere about putting the mission first, not personal pride; when Geordi suggests Riker as pilot for a manoeuvre and Riker turns out to be one best suited, Jellico takes the suggestion despite mutual loathing between him and Riker at this point. Similarly, despite not liking Jellico, Riker, Geordi and Troi do their jobs and do them well instead of indulging in "no captain but our captain!" sulks.
Trivia: Jellico ordering Troi to wear a regular uniform was the result of Marina Sirtis lobbying for one for many a season. I've always felt guiltily ambiguous about this. On the one hand, I can understand why the lack of a regular uniform underscored the eyecandy aspect of Deanna Troi and thus could be seen making her look less professional; on the other, I really liked some of her non-regular outfits, such as the blue dress. *is sometimes shallow*
Jellico's "and get that fish out of my ready-room" still makes me grin. Poor Livingstone. (That's the name of Picard's fish, laypeople.) As opposed to Spot, I don't think Livingstone survived the crash of the D...
One more thing on Jellico: one of the innovations TNG made to distinguish itself from TOS in command styles were the senior staff conferences; Picard would regularly consult not just with his first officer (which was the TOS precedent) but most or all of his senior crew, hearing out their opinions before making his decision. To me, that always made a lot of sense. If you have what's supposed to be the finest and most qualified crew of the fleet, you should use their skills, which means get their input. Jellico has a command style which is unlike either Kirk or Picard in that he doesn't do that, he just tells the seniors what to do, but doesn't have one or two closest confidants, either. Still, despite the very hierarchical nature of "his" Enterprise, he's not playing dumb and blind if someone does make a good suggestion, as when Geordi does it re: Riker.
Mind you, Chain of Command, despite the title, is not known as The One Where The Enterprise Has Another Captain. It's known as The One Where Picard Gets Tortured. And the whole part II torture plot justifies the preposterous spy plot in part I. Now, in s5 TNG had introduced both the Bajorans and the Cardassians in preparation for the about to be launched DS9. Season 6, where Chain of Command is from, ran concurrently with DS9's first season. As it predates Duet, it has the honor of being the first serious presentation of the Cardassians-as-fascists, and presenting one of the most memorable one shot Cardassians with Gul Madred, played by David Warner. Before Duet fans yell at me, I think Duet is the superior episode, more tightly focused, without an obvious 1984plagiarism homage; also, the whole thing is personal to Kira with her childhood during the occupation and her resistance fighter adolescence and adulthood in a way it can't be to Picard, who might have fought in the now and then referenced war with Cardassia but has had no traumatic experience there (as opposed to O'Brien). Still, Chain of Command II comes first, and does quite a lot of world-building of Cardassia as a plausible fascist society. The references to the military taking over after a mixture of terrible economic disasters and diseases, providing work, food and a future, at the expense of abandoning all the values the previous "culture with a rich spiritual life" held dear is one of the reasons why if you're watching this in Germany the Cardassians definitely read coded as Third Reich Germans at this point. (As do, of course, Marritza's faked statements with their Nuremberg familiarity, and Dukat's chilling "overreaction" remark in Duet.) The clincher is the scene where Madred's daughter shows up in an interrogation intermezzo, he's being a tender father, she asks casually about whether humans also have fathers and others, and Madred says yes, but they don't love them the same way because they're less. Not sub-human, sub-Cardassian, but the vocabulary is almost identical. Lesser life forms. The kind of brainwashing sounds all too familiar.
The 30s and 40s Germany parallels aren't the only ones being drawn. If the audience at the time was familiar with reports of Pinochet's Chile and the way torture was conducted there, it must have been very reminiscent as well. Madred, because he takes his cue from 1984's O'Brien, rarely raises his voice. (And when he does have an outburst, it's an all the more powerful moment. David Warner and Patrick Stewart are just amazing in all their scenes together.) In terms of sheer intelligence gathering, he gets what he wants right at the start when he uses a truth serum on Picard. (The episode doesn't ignore that in the futuristic society as established, people like the Cardassians would easily have drugs like this at hand, and there is no reason not to use them.) But, and that's why the episode feels honest on the torture subject, getting information is not really the point here. It's the systematic breaking of an individual via humiliation and de-personalisiation as much as via violence. With tactis like fake periods of hope ("we're letting you go... wait, we're not"), and the use of other prisoners (even if like in this case the other prisoner doesn't really exist - Madred bluffs about Crusher), until the interrogator is the only constant. And reality is only what the interrogator wants it to be. Picard manages to score one victory when he uses one of Madred's monologues (about his childhood) against him, but it's a short one. Now, if the episode had ended on the last-but-one scene, with Madred making one last attempt to get the "there are five lights" (when there are only four, following the 1984 model where the point is, as O'Brien tells Winston Smith, not to make him say two plus two equals five instead of four if the party wants him to say this, but to make him actually believe it) statement out of Picard and getting interrupted at the very last moment, we'd still have an acting tour de force by Stewart and Warner but a faint taste of dishonesty. (On the "heroes never break" note, which I think is one of the most dangerous falsehoods around.) However, this is not the end. After a brief intermission where Jellico returns command to the saved Picard, we get to the very last scene, when Picard talks to Troi in his ready-room. (BTW, another sign that we're in later TNG instead of early TNG is that Deanna doesn't have to cajole him into opening up but that, once they're alone, he talks to her on his own accord.) And tells her that not only would he have said anything Madred wanted in exchange of finally having the torture stopped if they hadn't gotten interrupted at that point, but that he actually did see five lights. It's a quiet final punchline, and makes the episode, logic flaws notwithstanding, one of TNG's most memorable.
On a lighter note about this episode: after TNG ended, there was a convention at the Royal Albert Hall with the entire cast which I attended, and Jonathan Frakes regaled the audience with an anecdote about the filming of Chain of Command. There are several scenes where Picard is nude while being tortured, and originally the producers wanted to use a body double for those shots, as apparantly was the custom on American tv at the time. Whereupon Patrick Stewart protested, a bit indignant (and here Frakes did a great imitation of Stewart's voice): "What is wrong with my body?" and insisted on doing those shots himself.
Back to seriousness: if it's been a long while since you've seen Chain of Command, someone at YouTube put several of the relevant scenes together with certain newsclips from the last eight years, resulting in this montage:
Sins of the Father (a third season episode) was one of the episodes that earned Ron Moore his reputation as the go-to guy for Klingons during his Star Trek days. It also is one of the best character episodes for Worf and in its focus on politics of a non-human people, exploring not just their beliefs but their current day power struggles would be an obvious precedent for the way DS9 would focus on Bajoran politics. In fact, I'd go as far as to say the episode about Bareil withdrawing from the campaign for Kai in Winn's favour rather than allow the exposure of the late Opaka as having been, in one instance, a collaborator, is obviously derived from this one. But while the Bareil/Kira/Winn/Opaka episode works as a good ep in its own right, the more direct remake of Sins of the Father DS9 would later indulge in, in s4's Sons of Mogh, was inferior.
Aside here: the thing about the Klingon storyline in s4 is that it never felt quite natural to me, the Klingon/Federation fallout too obvious a MacGuffin in order to justify Worf's transfer to DS9. Hence Worf's loyalty conflict episode - and the "Worf gets framed for a crime, Sisko defends" episode - feeling like remakes with not the same emotional power the TNG originals had. Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy Worf on DS9. The Worf/Dax relationship to me made sense in a way the Worf/Troi one did not, for example; and Worf's relationship with the real Martok, as well as Martok himself, were great to watch. But the Klingon/Federation fallout still feels artificially inserted, and the way they immediately got rid of it as soon as they could return to the Dominion/Cardassia storyline, i.e. the one DS9 had been developing organically, in s5 is telling.
Back to Sins of the Father. It starts by doing something usually frowned upon, giving Worf a long-lost brother we've never heard of before, Kurn, played by Tony Todd (who'd reprise the role a couple of times as well as playing a fabulous adult Jake Sisko in DS9's The Visitor). Kurn works both as a way to show what Worf would have been like had he grown up in the Empire, and as a character in his own right, but his main purpose, I suspect, is to make the emotional suckerpunch at the end of the episode even harder. When Kurn delivers his news about their late father being accused of having been a traitor, and you watch this for the first time and have no knowledge about what's to come, you expect this to go a certain way; there would be obstacles, but at the end Worf, with the help of his friends, would triumphantly prove his father's innocence. What makes the episode so memorable - and precedent-setting - is that this does not happen. Instead, we get our first look at the Klingon homeworld and Klingon inner politics, and meet some new characters; the chancellor, Empek, our villain of the hour, Duras, and Worf's old nurse. Duras is just plain evil, but nothing else in the story is that simple. Chancellor Empek is a wonderful example of a shades of grey character. On the one hand, he does something pretty despicable here - agreeing to let the late Mogh be framed for the treason someone else committed in order to avoid a power struggle with the Duras faction, under the rationalization that with Worf in Starfleet, it won't matter whether he's disgraced and an outcast in the Empire anyway. On the other, this isn't played as villainy as much as it's played as realpolitik, with Empek sympathizing with Worf and having no personal animosity against him. Script and acting do wonders in conveying a lot with just a few strokes, too, as when Empek meets the nurse again whom he evidently had a thing for in their youth, greets her with delight and nostalgia, and the woman, no one's sentimentalist, just gives him a look, says "you are still fat, Empek" and goes.
The moment when Worf, after having found out the truth about the extent of the cover-up and the depth of the involvement of the High Council, decides not to do the simple Klingon thing and die in combat (which would compel his brother to avenge him, which would get Kurn killed), or what he originally came to do (prove his father's innocence, which he now can since Picard & Co. have found a witness and some records) but in order to prevent the civil war Empek is sure would come accepts a life in disgrace is still character-defining, and the following banishment scene, with everyone turning away according to the ritual, and Worf at last turning Kurn around himself, remains one of TNG's most memorable and is as achey as ever. (See, this is why I consider Sons of Mogh an inferior remake. Worf deciding that wiping out his brother's memory and giving him a new identity isn't just ethically questionable but a deus-ex-machina solution to that episode's dilemma, whereas the climactic scene from Sins of the Father is character grown and also mutual; Kurn knows what Worf did, and why.) The Klingon politics storyline started here would also continue through the seasons, with Worf's banishment not being reversed the next time it was revisited, but only two full seasons later. Remember that this was still pretty new in terms of Trek storytelling.
Reunion from TNG's season 4 picks up both storylines from s2's The Emissary and s3's Sins of the Father, and yes, it's another Moore co-written episode. (This where he gets bloodthirsty and starts the character killing.) K'ehleyr returns, as Chancellor Empek is dying and wants to ensure that whoever poisoned him isn't made his successor. It's not exactly a whodunit as one of the two candidates is Duras, though the episode makes the effort to give the other one, Gowron (introduced here and becoming a recurring character through TNG and DS9) a scene showcasing he's not above shady behaviour, either. But "who's the killer" is not the point of the episode. We get another great (and last) shades of grey turn from old Empek as he blackmails Picard into sorting out his succession for hm, and Suzie Plakson as K'ehleyr is even more fabulous than she was the last time, radiating intelligence and passion. I really appreciate that the show made her reason to visit political, and lets her showcase her knowledge and skills when she advises Picard on how to handle Duras and Gowron; sorting out her relationship with Worf and introducing him to his son is something she does as well, but it's not her main role in the episode. Which is why, when she dies, I don't think you can say she got fridged. Not simply because K'ehleyr has plenty of personality to spare, but her death is about herself (Duras isn't even aware she has a relationship with Worf at this point; but he's very aware she has tracked down evidence of the grand cover-up, plus he resents her advice to Picard in the succession trials). Of course, her death does motivate Worf (to go after Duras and kill him, never mind Riker yelling at him not to) - at this particular point, where it makes sense; Worf doesn't justify his further existence and behaviour by it. So by the time the episode ends, three recurring characters are dead, and the Klingons have a new chancellor; the fact that Worf is thus responsible for Gowron getting the position is going to have consequences throughout two series. And again, I'd say that the way the episode centers around Klingon politics, with Worf as a central character and the human characters in minor positions, would set a precedence for the DS9 episodes centered around Bajoran politics, with Kira as a central character.
A season 6 two-parter with torture, mind games, plot holes, fleshing out of aliens and powerful emotional scenes. I wonder which Star Trek staff writer could possibly be involved? Yes, it's another Ron Moore opus, co-written with Frank Abatemarco. It starts with probably the briefest teaser scene in TNG history, with Admiral Nechayev showing up and saying "I relieve you of command" to Picard. I must say, even all these years later I still find one of the crucial premises for this two-parter preposterous: to wit, that Picard, Crusher and Worf would be sent on a secret agent mission into Cardassian territory instead of, you know, professional spies. Yes, it would be six more years before DS9 would establish Section 31, but a more regular Federation secret service, Starfleet Intelligence, already existed. Chain of Command tries to justify Picard being sent on this mission by declaring he's one of only three captains to have practical experience with the secret weapon MacGuffin of the story, and the other two are already retired, but that still doesn't explain Crusher and Worf instead of, as I said before, pros. Now, the whole thing is revealed to be a Cardassian trap anyway, something they set up to capture Picard, so my personal fanwank of why the Federation didn't just fell for it but utterly failed to provide professional back-up for a delicate spying mission (is Worf anyone's idea of a discreet operative in Cardassian territory? Bueller?) is that actually, someone in Section 31 was pulling strings to make it so because they thought of the Cardassians captured and killed the captain of the Enterprise it would be a great propaganda reason to either start a war or re-negotiate that DMZ settlement. End of conspiracy theory. Also end of nitpicking.
The other reason why Picard is relieved of command at the start of this two parter - other than so he can get on a spy mission and can get captured, I mean - is so the show can play out a plot that was pretty innovative at the time, because it was a twist on a popular Trek cliché. To wit: the cliché of Starfleet sending another captain (or Admiral, or whomever) to replace Our Captain, and the other guy would of course be then shown to be not as competent, if not outright evil and/or crazy; at the very least, he'd be in for a nervous breakdown or two. At the crucial climax, Our Captain would save the day, and the other guy would either die or slink of in shame. One of the earliest examples of this story I can think of would be Commander Decker (in the TOS episode with the planet eater); one of the latest would be poor John Harriman, the captain of the Enterprise - B in Generations, who suffers the additional indignity of being reduced to comic relief, saying "it won't be there until Tuesday" at infinitum so Kirk can heroically take over command.
Now, in Chain of Command, the guy taking over command from Picard is Edward Jellico. Who manages to make Picard positively fuzzy and brimming with openness by comparison, is abrasive and definitely not someone you'd send on an exploration mission; the guy screams military through and through. But lo and behold, he's not a) evil, b) crazy, or c) incompetent. He's a control freak and manages to alienate Riker, Geordi and Troi in quick order, but not only do his strategies through the two parter pay off, but he's shown to be sincere about putting the mission first, not personal pride; when Geordi suggests Riker as pilot for a manoeuvre and Riker turns out to be one best suited, Jellico takes the suggestion despite mutual loathing between him and Riker at this point. Similarly, despite not liking Jellico, Riker, Geordi and Troi do their jobs and do them well instead of indulging in "no captain but our captain!" sulks.
Trivia: Jellico ordering Troi to wear a regular uniform was the result of Marina Sirtis lobbying for one for many a season. I've always felt guiltily ambiguous about this. On the one hand, I can understand why the lack of a regular uniform underscored the eyecandy aspect of Deanna Troi and thus could be seen making her look less professional; on the other, I really liked some of her non-regular outfits, such as the blue dress. *is sometimes shallow*
Jellico's "and get that fish out of my ready-room" still makes me grin. Poor Livingstone. (That's the name of Picard's fish, laypeople.) As opposed to Spot, I don't think Livingstone survived the crash of the D...
One more thing on Jellico: one of the innovations TNG made to distinguish itself from TOS in command styles were the senior staff conferences; Picard would regularly consult not just with his first officer (which was the TOS precedent) but most or all of his senior crew, hearing out their opinions before making his decision. To me, that always made a lot of sense. If you have what's supposed to be the finest and most qualified crew of the fleet, you should use their skills, which means get their input. Jellico has a command style which is unlike either Kirk or Picard in that he doesn't do that, he just tells the seniors what to do, but doesn't have one or two closest confidants, either. Still, despite the very hierarchical nature of "his" Enterprise, he's not playing dumb and blind if someone does make a good suggestion, as when Geordi does it re: Riker.
Mind you, Chain of Command, despite the title, is not known as The One Where The Enterprise Has Another Captain. It's known as The One Where Picard Gets Tortured. And the whole part II torture plot justifies the preposterous spy plot in part I. Now, in s5 TNG had introduced both the Bajorans and the Cardassians in preparation for the about to be launched DS9. Season 6, where Chain of Command is from, ran concurrently with DS9's first season. As it predates Duet, it has the honor of being the first serious presentation of the Cardassians-as-fascists, and presenting one of the most memorable one shot Cardassians with Gul Madred, played by David Warner. Before Duet fans yell at me, I think Duet is the superior episode, more tightly focused, without an obvious 1984
The 30s and 40s Germany parallels aren't the only ones being drawn. If the audience at the time was familiar with reports of Pinochet's Chile and the way torture was conducted there, it must have been very reminiscent as well. Madred, because he takes his cue from 1984's O'Brien, rarely raises his voice. (And when he does have an outburst, it's an all the more powerful moment. David Warner and Patrick Stewart are just amazing in all their scenes together.) In terms of sheer intelligence gathering, he gets what he wants right at the start when he uses a truth serum on Picard. (The episode doesn't ignore that in the futuristic society as established, people like the Cardassians would easily have drugs like this at hand, and there is no reason not to use them.) But, and that's why the episode feels honest on the torture subject, getting information is not really the point here. It's the systematic breaking of an individual via humiliation and de-personalisiation as much as via violence. With tactis like fake periods of hope ("we're letting you go... wait, we're not"), and the use of other prisoners (even if like in this case the other prisoner doesn't really exist - Madred bluffs about Crusher), until the interrogator is the only constant. And reality is only what the interrogator wants it to be. Picard manages to score one victory when he uses one of Madred's monologues (about his childhood) against him, but it's a short one. Now, if the episode had ended on the last-but-one scene, with Madred making one last attempt to get the "there are five lights" (when there are only four, following the 1984 model where the point is, as O'Brien tells Winston Smith, not to make him say two plus two equals five instead of four if the party wants him to say this, but to make him actually believe it) statement out of Picard and getting interrupted at the very last moment, we'd still have an acting tour de force by Stewart and Warner but a faint taste of dishonesty. (On the "heroes never break" note, which I think is one of the most dangerous falsehoods around.) However, this is not the end. After a brief intermission where Jellico returns command to the saved Picard, we get to the very last scene, when Picard talks to Troi in his ready-room. (BTW, another sign that we're in later TNG instead of early TNG is that Deanna doesn't have to cajole him into opening up but that, once they're alone, he talks to her on his own accord.) And tells her that not only would he have said anything Madred wanted in exchange of finally having the torture stopped if they hadn't gotten interrupted at that point, but that he actually did see five lights. It's a quiet final punchline, and makes the episode, logic flaws notwithstanding, one of TNG's most memorable.
On a lighter note about this episode: after TNG ended, there was a convention at the Royal Albert Hall with the entire cast which I attended, and Jonathan Frakes regaled the audience with an anecdote about the filming of Chain of Command. There are several scenes where Picard is nude while being tortured, and originally the producers wanted to use a body double for those shots, as apparantly was the custom on American tv at the time. Whereupon Patrick Stewart protested, a bit indignant (and here Frakes did a great imitation of Stewart's voice): "What is wrong with my body?" and insisted on doing those shots himself.
Back to seriousness: if it's been a long while since you've seen Chain of Command, someone at YouTube put several of the relevant scenes together with certain newsclips from the last eight years, resulting in this montage:
