The local supermarket had the last two TNG movies, Star Trek: Insurrection and Star Trek: Nemesis as a special cheap offer, and thus I saw them again for the first time since the cinematic release. (Because they were not exactly good, and I say that as a devoted later series of ST fan, I never made any attempt to rewatch before.)
So, how do they feel several years hence? For starters, there are worse ST movies. (Step forwards, Slow Motion Picture and Final Frontier.) However, the basic problems remained the same. Let's start with Insurrection.
Insurrection was shot at a point when on tv, DS9 was busy being really epic with the Dominion War arc. This created more than one continuity headache if you were a non-casual viewer. The Enterprise, as the flagg ship of the Federation, should not have had the time to be sent on the type of seemingly harmless solo mission that was their want in peaceful TNG times and which this at first appears to be as well. On the other hand, shooting a Dominion War movie would have lost any audience not familiar with DS9, plus the very epicness of DS9's achievement was due to the long build up through seasons, not something that can be reproduced in a standalone adventure for the big screen, and the Dominion War was a DS9 story anyway; a TNG Dominion War film would have felt like an ursupation. So, all in all, I can't blame the producers for handwaving the Dominion War problem along with Worf's presence on the Enterprise (when he's supposed to be simultanously fighting elsewhere) with a few lines and going for self-contained story instead.
The story they went for did attempt to take into a account the new shades of grey DS9 had brought to the Federation: however, the execution of what is a viable story idea - is badly lacking, especially considering both TNG in its last season and DS9 throughout most of its seasons did it before. Enforced relocation of people for political gain as official policy, challenging Our Heroes' ethics? Why, it's the basic set-up of the Maquis, who got introduced in TNG before the plot line became more important and evolved in DS9. Both the original Maquis TNG episode and most of the DS9 episodes dealing with the Maquis benefit from this being a really ambigous situation - there is no clear-cut right and wrong in the fallout of the Cardassian/Federation peace treaty and the ensuing enforced resettlements giving birth to the Maquis. You can understand every side involved, the Maquis, the Federation and for that matter the Cardassians.
By constrast, what happens with the Ba'ku is clear cut black and white. They're wonderful peaceful people not corrupted by their near-immortality at all. The Federation admiral who bargains their rights away is shady, and the Sona, their enemies, are up to no good. (And ugly to boot, as opposed to the model-like Ba'ku.) There is an attempt at depth in making the Sona the banished children of the Ba'ku, and one of them as capable of remorse and being persuaded by Picard, but their general aim is still presented as relentlessly evil, and there is simply no question as to who Picard & Co. will side with. There is no dilemma because the right/wrong situation is so very clear cut.
Then there's the deus-ex-machina resolution. On the one hand, fitting with later DS9 characterisation, the Federation Council is desperate and ruthless enough to make a deal with the Sona in order to get at the Ba'ku's near-immortality resource; on the other hand, they immediately change their mind as soon as the "it's really a family blood feud" news is transmitted and get ethical again, so we can get an unblemished happy ending.
In addition to this problem with the general storyline of the film, or rather the way it is executed, there are the subplots. The one with Data and the Ba'ku boy gives you a feeling of been there, done that, because TNG really did this a couple of times. (Worthy of continuity note: acknowledgment that the emotion chip has been a really bad idea on the writers' part, as Data is without it all through the film.) Then there's the attempt at giving Picard a movie romance in the form of Anij. Anij and the boy are also the characters supposed to individualize the Ba'ku to the audience, and if you do a compare and contrast to Lily and Zefram Cochrane in First Contact, who fulfilled similar narrative functions, the contrast is glaring. The problem with Anij isn't the actress (who, thank you, Hollywood, isn't a standard beauty, and also looks like she could be over 40, which is quite refreshing), is that the character is supposed to be mysterious and wise and hit it off instantly with Picard. Lily, who didn't have to be a love interest, was there to distrust and challenge him, which made for far better drama. In short, Picard/Anij didn't work for me, and I'm not even a Picard/Crusher 'shipper (who must have been incensed). I think if I had been script editor, with the precondition that there would have to be a Picard romance, I'd have suggested the following change to both make things more morally ambiguous and dramatic, as well as to challenge Picard's ethics more: make Anij one of the Sona instead, and make her survival dependent on the Ba'Ku being forcefully evicted from their home planet.
So, is Insurrection a total waste of screen time: no, because there are scenes I like. The Gilbert and Sullivan duet, for how can you not? Geordi's moment of seeing with his own eyes again, for example. And all those tiny details of why I continue to adore Picard and why he's my favourite Starship captain, for example: early at the reception he gets a greeting headdress by the amabassador the Enterprise is hosting a reception for, which makes him look absolutely ridiculous, and he knows it. But he doesn't grimace and pulls it off with dignity. Plot point news arrive, Picard has a conference call with the admiral sans headdress. And then he goes back to the reception and puts it on again instead of using the excuse to be rid of the damned thing for the rest of the evening. (This is why Picard gets the diplomatic missions.) And while F. Murray Abraham is as one dimensional as most Star Trek movie villains (as opposed to the tv villains), he is so with style. I just wish he were so in a better movie.
On to the last TNG movie, object of much fannish ire.
Nemesis was written by John Logan, whose tv script about Orson Welles making Citizen Kane, RKO 282, I'm quite fond of. I find it better structured than Insurrection, but burdened with some similar problems between interesting concept and execution. To get to the most basic one: Nemesis is an attempt at that sci-fi (and Trek) stalwart, the evil clone/doppelganger/other self/road not taken. As opposed to all over ST incarnations, TNG never did a mirrorverse episode, though there is a good tie-in mirrorverse novel by Diane Duane. Presumably because Data's evil doppelganger was already covered by Lore, Riker's road-not-taken by his transporter clone, and Picard's frightening alter ego by Locutus of Borg, and writers just weren't that interested to see Beverly and Deanna in the mirrorverse. Which left a doppelganger story ripe for the movie picking. Casting Tom Hardy, who doesn't look like Patrick Stewart, wasn't a bad idea; he's a good actor, and he and Stewart have a great tension in all their scenes together. Also, the idea of Shinzon as someone who Picard could have been in other circumstances, with a different background and a hellish youth, is dramatically sound. For this idea to work emotionally, however, and to suitably disturb the audience, Shinzon should have still resembled Picard to some degree. Just taken some of his familiar traits to more extremes. Instead, Shinzon is just another evil overlord, without any evidence of positive sides. There is no resemblence, and thus not the longed for emotional resonance in the audience.
Nemesis attempted to both reintroduce the Romulans as major players and to add to Trek mythology by adding the Remans. And again, there is concept/execution. The Remans as the exploited race in the Romulan empire: good idea. Making them look like Nosferatus and changing their goal from "we want our freedom" to "wanna destroy Earth", however? Bad. The female Romulan commander Valdor (spelling?) is almost an excellent character. Being Machiavellian enough to scheme with Shinzon, but also smart and more concerned for the greater good enough to turn against him after it becomes evident Shinzon has lost his marbles and is after mass slaughter, not empire ruling. Except... just before coming to that conclusion, Valdor has a scene with Shinzon where she makes a pass at him and he turns her down. Thus casting doubt on her subsequent motives and alliance with Picard & Co. for the rest of the movie. Boo, hiss, script. Without that scene, you'd have had another great female Romulan. (And one who survives and saves Our Heroes' butts, to boot.)
I can't make up my mind about how I feel regarding Shinzon's telepathic rape of Deanna. Because it actually serves a plot purpose other than making Shinzon look even more evil and making Deanna a victim; it allows her to track Shinzon's cloaked ship later. But that showcasing of Troi's abilities in battle could have done without previous telepathic violation.
The thing Nemesis is infamous for, though, is none of this but the fact it kills off Data. (While providing a possibility for Brent Spiner to rethink his "I want out" wish if he wants to via yet another Soong android, B-4.) This did not come entirely unexpected for me at the time, and not because I was spoiled. If you have a character who can't age physically due to his nature and an actor who like we all do ages, you also have a problem if your story continues for any length of time. From the last TNG season onwards, Spiner's aging under Data's mask had become more and more visible. Still, you could have handwaved this by saying Data wants to experience another human dimension, aging, and has programmed his cells to simulate such an effect. So the question is: was Nemesis written in a way that made Data's sacrifice into a logical dramatic conclusion? And, well, the answer is, not really. The famous precedent for killing a beloved character in a Trek movie is of course Spock's death in Wrath of Khan; but Wrath of Khan makes mortality and Kirk's difficulties to deal with it, and loss, a main theme from the start. Losing his best friend at the end by said best friend saving the day thus works as drama. By contrast, if Nemesis has a theme, it's "who are we, and what makes us what we are?", something it attempts to answer by providing both Picard and Data with doppelgangers. But Data's death has nothing to do with this theme, and doesn't confront Picard, or the other crew members, with something that tells them something about themselves, either. Which is why it feels less earned as Spock's did.
On the brighter side of things: Picard's wedding toast at the start of the film is one of those TNG family moments that really work for me, and I'm glad Guinan was there was well; like
alara_r, I choose to regard him calling Riker "Mr. Troi" later as not a joke but a sign Riker took Deanna's name because Lwaxana would never have permitted anything else; Worf grudgingly admitting the bravery of the Romulans in his exchange with Riker was a good continuity bit re: Worf and his backstory with all things Romulan; Beverly at last gets a scene with Picard that acknowledges just how long these two know each other; I like the way Marina Sirtis plays Deanna tracking the cloaked vessel, with cool professionalism and her rage only expressing itself with that one literal pressing of the button once she has found them; and for all his monolothic evil overlorddom, Shinzon's scenes with Picard because they really benefit from two good actors playing off each other. And Patrick Stewart's facial acting when he has killed Shinzon is just awesome (good thing Logan showed restrained there and gave him no dialogue); it's one of the very few times we actually see Picard kill someone with his own hands (right now the only other example I can think of are the Borg in the holodeck scene from First Contact, and Stewart's acting, if not the previous story, sells me on this having been his other self. And the cameo by Janeway! I love both that Janeway's an admiral, and that she's on first name terms with Picard.
In conclusion: ...All Good Things still remains the one true farewell of the TNG crew, with First Contact thrown in as a good epilogue. But I can't help myself; I just so enjoy seeing these people on screen that I can't wish these films, incredibly flawed as they are, away. I just wish them better.
So, how do they feel several years hence? For starters, there are worse ST movies. (Step forwards, Slow Motion Picture and Final Frontier.) However, the basic problems remained the same. Let's start with Insurrection.
Insurrection was shot at a point when on tv, DS9 was busy being really epic with the Dominion War arc. This created more than one continuity headache if you were a non-casual viewer. The Enterprise, as the flagg ship of the Federation, should not have had the time to be sent on the type of seemingly harmless solo mission that was their want in peaceful TNG times and which this at first appears to be as well. On the other hand, shooting a Dominion War movie would have lost any audience not familiar with DS9, plus the very epicness of DS9's achievement was due to the long build up through seasons, not something that can be reproduced in a standalone adventure for the big screen, and the Dominion War was a DS9 story anyway; a TNG Dominion War film would have felt like an ursupation. So, all in all, I can't blame the producers for handwaving the Dominion War problem along with Worf's presence on the Enterprise (when he's supposed to be simultanously fighting elsewhere) with a few lines and going for self-contained story instead.
The story they went for did attempt to take into a account the new shades of grey DS9 had brought to the Federation: however, the execution of what is a viable story idea - is badly lacking, especially considering both TNG in its last season and DS9 throughout most of its seasons did it before. Enforced relocation of people for political gain as official policy, challenging Our Heroes' ethics? Why, it's the basic set-up of the Maquis, who got introduced in TNG before the plot line became more important and evolved in DS9. Both the original Maquis TNG episode and most of the DS9 episodes dealing with the Maquis benefit from this being a really ambigous situation - there is no clear-cut right and wrong in the fallout of the Cardassian/Federation peace treaty and the ensuing enforced resettlements giving birth to the Maquis. You can understand every side involved, the Maquis, the Federation and for that matter the Cardassians.
By constrast, what happens with the Ba'ku is clear cut black and white. They're wonderful peaceful people not corrupted by their near-immortality at all. The Federation admiral who bargains their rights away is shady, and the Sona, their enemies, are up to no good. (And ugly to boot, as opposed to the model-like Ba'ku.) There is an attempt at depth in making the Sona the banished children of the Ba'ku, and one of them as capable of remorse and being persuaded by Picard, but their general aim is still presented as relentlessly evil, and there is simply no question as to who Picard & Co. will side with. There is no dilemma because the right/wrong situation is so very clear cut.
Then there's the deus-ex-machina resolution. On the one hand, fitting with later DS9 characterisation, the Federation Council is desperate and ruthless enough to make a deal with the Sona in order to get at the Ba'ku's near-immortality resource; on the other hand, they immediately change their mind as soon as the "it's really a family blood feud" news is transmitted and get ethical again, so we can get an unblemished happy ending.
In addition to this problem with the general storyline of the film, or rather the way it is executed, there are the subplots. The one with Data and the Ba'ku boy gives you a feeling of been there, done that, because TNG really did this a couple of times. (Worthy of continuity note: acknowledgment that the emotion chip has been a really bad idea on the writers' part, as Data is without it all through the film.) Then there's the attempt at giving Picard a movie romance in the form of Anij. Anij and the boy are also the characters supposed to individualize the Ba'ku to the audience, and if you do a compare and contrast to Lily and Zefram Cochrane in First Contact, who fulfilled similar narrative functions, the contrast is glaring. The problem with Anij isn't the actress (who, thank you, Hollywood, isn't a standard beauty, and also looks like she could be over 40, which is quite refreshing), is that the character is supposed to be mysterious and wise and hit it off instantly with Picard. Lily, who didn't have to be a love interest, was there to distrust and challenge him, which made for far better drama. In short, Picard/Anij didn't work for me, and I'm not even a Picard/Crusher 'shipper (who must have been incensed). I think if I had been script editor, with the precondition that there would have to be a Picard romance, I'd have suggested the following change to both make things more morally ambiguous and dramatic, as well as to challenge Picard's ethics more: make Anij one of the Sona instead, and make her survival dependent on the Ba'Ku being forcefully evicted from their home planet.
So, is Insurrection a total waste of screen time: no, because there are scenes I like. The Gilbert and Sullivan duet, for how can you not? Geordi's moment of seeing with his own eyes again, for example. And all those tiny details of why I continue to adore Picard and why he's my favourite Starship captain, for example: early at the reception he gets a greeting headdress by the amabassador the Enterprise is hosting a reception for, which makes him look absolutely ridiculous, and he knows it. But he doesn't grimace and pulls it off with dignity. Plot point news arrive, Picard has a conference call with the admiral sans headdress. And then he goes back to the reception and puts it on again instead of using the excuse to be rid of the damned thing for the rest of the evening. (This is why Picard gets the diplomatic missions.) And while F. Murray Abraham is as one dimensional as most Star Trek movie villains (as opposed to the tv villains), he is so with style. I just wish he were so in a better movie.
On to the last TNG movie, object of much fannish ire.
Nemesis was written by John Logan, whose tv script about Orson Welles making Citizen Kane, RKO 282, I'm quite fond of. I find it better structured than Insurrection, but burdened with some similar problems between interesting concept and execution. To get to the most basic one: Nemesis is an attempt at that sci-fi (and Trek) stalwart, the evil clone/doppelganger/other self/road not taken. As opposed to all over ST incarnations, TNG never did a mirrorverse episode, though there is a good tie-in mirrorverse novel by Diane Duane. Presumably because Data's evil doppelganger was already covered by Lore, Riker's road-not-taken by his transporter clone, and Picard's frightening alter ego by Locutus of Borg, and writers just weren't that interested to see Beverly and Deanna in the mirrorverse. Which left a doppelganger story ripe for the movie picking. Casting Tom Hardy, who doesn't look like Patrick Stewart, wasn't a bad idea; he's a good actor, and he and Stewart have a great tension in all their scenes together. Also, the idea of Shinzon as someone who Picard could have been in other circumstances, with a different background and a hellish youth, is dramatically sound. For this idea to work emotionally, however, and to suitably disturb the audience, Shinzon should have still resembled Picard to some degree. Just taken some of his familiar traits to more extremes. Instead, Shinzon is just another evil overlord, without any evidence of positive sides. There is no resemblence, and thus not the longed for emotional resonance in the audience.
Nemesis attempted to both reintroduce the Romulans as major players and to add to Trek mythology by adding the Remans. And again, there is concept/execution. The Remans as the exploited race in the Romulan empire: good idea. Making them look like Nosferatus and changing their goal from "we want our freedom" to "wanna destroy Earth", however? Bad. The female Romulan commander Valdor (spelling?) is almost an excellent character. Being Machiavellian enough to scheme with Shinzon, but also smart and more concerned for the greater good enough to turn against him after it becomes evident Shinzon has lost his marbles and is after mass slaughter, not empire ruling. Except... just before coming to that conclusion, Valdor has a scene with Shinzon where she makes a pass at him and he turns her down. Thus casting doubt on her subsequent motives and alliance with Picard & Co. for the rest of the movie. Boo, hiss, script. Without that scene, you'd have had another great female Romulan. (And one who survives and saves Our Heroes' butts, to boot.)
I can't make up my mind about how I feel regarding Shinzon's telepathic rape of Deanna. Because it actually serves a plot purpose other than making Shinzon look even more evil and making Deanna a victim; it allows her to track Shinzon's cloaked ship later. But that showcasing of Troi's abilities in battle could have done without previous telepathic violation.
The thing Nemesis is infamous for, though, is none of this but the fact it kills off Data. (While providing a possibility for Brent Spiner to rethink his "I want out" wish if he wants to via yet another Soong android, B-4.) This did not come entirely unexpected for me at the time, and not because I was spoiled. If you have a character who can't age physically due to his nature and an actor who like we all do ages, you also have a problem if your story continues for any length of time. From the last TNG season onwards, Spiner's aging under Data's mask had become more and more visible. Still, you could have handwaved this by saying Data wants to experience another human dimension, aging, and has programmed his cells to simulate such an effect. So the question is: was Nemesis written in a way that made Data's sacrifice into a logical dramatic conclusion? And, well, the answer is, not really. The famous precedent for killing a beloved character in a Trek movie is of course Spock's death in Wrath of Khan; but Wrath of Khan makes mortality and Kirk's difficulties to deal with it, and loss, a main theme from the start. Losing his best friend at the end by said best friend saving the day thus works as drama. By contrast, if Nemesis has a theme, it's "who are we, and what makes us what we are?", something it attempts to answer by providing both Picard and Data with doppelgangers. But Data's death has nothing to do with this theme, and doesn't confront Picard, or the other crew members, with something that tells them something about themselves, either. Which is why it feels less earned as Spock's did.
On the brighter side of things: Picard's wedding toast at the start of the film is one of those TNG family moments that really work for me, and I'm glad Guinan was there was well; like
In conclusion: ...All Good Things still remains the one true farewell of the TNG crew, with First Contact thrown in as a good epilogue. But I can't help myself; I just so enjoy seeing these people on screen that I can't wish these films, incredibly flawed as they are, away. I just wish them better.