ST:TNG S01E10: Hide and Q

“Hey Wes, not bad.”—Geordi, Hide and Q

Does nobody read subtext?

But on to the episode …

… We’ve had two Ferengi episodes, and now we’ve had two Q episodes. That is not to say these are ‘repeats’ … only that despite the clearly episodic nature of early TNG, there are hints of a greater ‘world-building’ if not exactly ‘mythology’ at work. But even give the flaws of ‘Encounter at Farpoint,’ ‘Hide and Q’ is hardly a step in the right direction for TNG.

First of all there is the overall ‘cheapness’ of the look of the episode, and through the first half or so it appears we are in another bottle episode. We have the bridge and a generic “rocky” soundstage with a generic alien-world-sky in the background. Even a couple moons. We don’t even get a well-done, elaborate matte painting, and we’re certainly too early to get a digital background. Susie’s first response was, to paraphrase, “Hey, let’s reuse the set from the first Ferengi episode.” Even our Q’s-forcefield-in-space special effect was re-used from ‘Encounter at Farpoint,’ as was the flaming-sphere, which Susie and I refer to as “Firefox” (“The Enterprise is being chased by a Firefox! Run … RUN!”) We don’t have Wesley, Troi and Crusher are basically absent … we’ve reduced our speaking cast to Q, Picard, Riker, and a bit of Yar, Worf, Geordi and Data.

But then we bring in the generic Napoleonic Orcs—outfits by way of a high school costume shop—, though we stay on our two sets, and Yar even gets a ‘touching’ (leading toward inappropriate touching) moment with Picard on the bridge during which he attempts to demonstrate his high-warp Picard Maneuver. Q is having none of it. But soon the cast is back on the Enterprise, seemingly no time at all has passed, and while Riker now has the power of the Q, he agrees to be a regular little boy and play by the rules laid down by Picard. They reach their destination and in order to effect a moral dilemma, a new set is introduced, though it is kept dark and dank so as to not let on how small it really is.  No new guest stars or speaking parts, though, so our bottleocity is mainly intact.

Q hints early on that he wants to play a game. He establishes rules. He plays at toy soldiers. He provides a “penalty box,” and so on, but in a worse way it is all a game in which the actors and characters—it is worth distinguishing here, as it is a matter of the quality of dialog they’re given—go through the motions. There is no real dramatic tension, no consequences, and no non-obvious “moral.” The episode if very much a victim of “telling” over “showing,” even though ever since I learned the “show, don’t tell” mantra back in, oh, middle school, I’ve found it simplistic and more a matter of blind dogma than of reflected, hard-earned wisdom.

But as for showing vs. telling, telling vs. showing, I could deal with something a bit more “alienating,” a bit more “Brechtian” or “epic,” something either sincerely or ironically didactic, but this is none of those, only a bit bland and lazy in the worst traditions of a bottle episode. We do not get a dazzling display of acting, though at times both Stewart and de Lancie get to ham it up and clearly enjoy doing so. We get no real character development, little in the way of meaningful story or plot, no emotional resonance, little wit in the script … pick a traditional aspect or goal of storytelling, and try to find how this episode does it well.

Yet there are “good ideas” buried here and little gems. Stewart not only gets to ham it up, he gets to Hamlet it up, and he and de Lancie both get to Shakespeare it up™. Picard is interested in exploration but has principles governing his priorities; Q had already tested him and realized he’d get nowhere tempting him, so he quite rightly sets his sights on Riker. The two even dress alike and have similar enough hair styles while on the “planet”. De Lancie does, however, get a wide range of costumes and seems to relish whatever role-of-the-moment he has … and his Data-Face™ is sufficiently creepy. The temptation of Riker is also not a bad idea … but neither in terms of plot nor characterization is it effective here. Riker is still too a stuffed shirt with neither much backstory nor characterization to make us care about him, though the early scenes of him on the planet with Q are nice … we see him doing, not just standing and reacting. We get to see what kind of a ‘leader’ he is.

But then we have the disastrous second battle on the planet in which first Worf and then Wesley are stabbed to death by the Space Orcs. Picard snaps in a rather out-of-character way. No one else really does anything except stand around. And then we have to live through Riker’s “gifts” to his “friends.” Now knowing how Wil Wheaton grew up, comparing actual Wheaton-Wesley to 80s-steroid-Wesley is comical. Worf’s “sex is about spousal abuse” act does not endear me to the Klingons, and not only does Geordi go all Reading Rainbow on us, he more or less professes his love for Yar … and then chooses, once again, the path of blindness. Data is the greatest “voice of humanity” here. Everyone gives up their “gifts,” Riker learns his “lesson,” and we return to the status quo … or Status Q, as the case may be.

But supposedly Yar will remember Geordi waxing poetic about her, everyone will recall Hunk Wesley, and Wesley and Worf both will retain of the psychic scars of having been stabbed to death … though none of these “developments” will play any further role on the show. So I find it silly at best to think that the Riker-Picard-Q drama in any way involved any of the other characters as “real people” … hell, were it not for the fact that we need Picard to recall the events, be the one who made a wager with Q, and so on, I’d propose that the whole episode was only “real” for Riker and Q.

Picard and Q spout lines of Shakespeare to one another midway through the episode, and while in a way it seems more about Stewart and de Lancie, it’s relevant also to the plot of the episode and Picard’s humanism. The chosen quotes and misquotes establish that it is through a game or similar, rather than through “real life,” that Q can best observe and come to understand mankind. Fine … I can accept this and it grounds the toy soldiers, penalty box and similar constructs. But it’s all so … sloppy. And in addition to the Shakespeare we do, almost, have a better literary parallel in variations on the Faust legend … temptation and power, a wager between God and the Devil (Goethe version), and so on. At the same time the episode feels both too slight as well as overstuffed. There is only one real story/plot here and it feels too drawn out; I kept waiting for it to be over. But in a sense this could have also been a Tasha episode.

Early on she takes her “duty” as security officer quite seriously (see also: Worf jumping over bridge furniture to confront Q). Then, once her ill-considered and hasty actions send her to the penalty box, we get our Yar-Picard isolation that has the potential, through Stewart’s acting chops, at least, to add some nuance or depth to Yar’s so-called “character.” But this then gets dropped until toward the end with Geordi’s out-of-nowhere description of her beauty. They’ve been building up Yar-moments all season so far … on the one hand her impulsiveness that comes across as both immature and also protective of Picard (it’s as if she has the flipside of Wesley’s hero worhsip going on, though perhaps more in an Elektra-complex way), her attraction to and attractiveness to powerful men (recall: Lutan and the abduction), and her own conflicted feelings about her duty and her sensuality (see: the seduction of Data). Her discomfort but also pleasure at getting attention in “Justice” points in the same direction. Susie and I discussed/debated the merits of Yar a bit over dinner …

… I think as she is realized as a character in the episodes we get, both the character and actress—and the writing, most importantly—are a failure. At a time when only Uhura had been a “real” female character on Star Trek (we get a couple Vulans along the way, I suppose), Yar had the chance to be strong and non-traditional … for the 80s, she seemed a bit like a “feminist” character. In contrast we have weak, mushy Troi, whom the series creators like to mind-rape every couple seasons. She is stereotypical, hyper-emotional, and passive. Crusher contrasts with Bones and provides another ‘doctor’ model, but she goes back and forth too much between mother and—where she is stronger—counterpoint to Picard, one of the only characters who can talk to him, sometimes, nearly as an “equal.” That leaves us with Yar, and while much is made of her orphan past and of “rape gangs,” the potential for both of these is sorely ignored. That is to say, here is Tasha Yar, the “other” of the Federation’s enlightened “Modernity,” if you will … a counter-narrative or at least voice with an alternative take on the happy assimilation and humanism that otherwise pervades Picard’s world. Who else could be a bit pessimistic, a bit cynical? A bit slow to trust but not in a knee-jerk way?

Who else could be … conflicted? Data wants to be more human and has a narrative. Geordi eventually gets eye implants. Worf’s Klingon background merely provides a nature-vs-nurture framework that’s actually kind of patronizing. Wesley is merely a teen with all that entails. Neither Riker nor Picard are especially troubled or conflicted … so here, instead, we have the writers failing Crosby and Yar (that’s the most generous interpretation). But now I’m far off-track. But much like Q’s intervention, no time has really passed and you may return to your regularly-scheduled mission.

Links:

• Hide and Q (Wikipedia)
• Hide and Q (Memory Alpha, the Star Trek wiki)
• Hide and Q, et. al. (A.V. Club)