Frasier (1993) s07e17 – Whine Club

Whine Club is half a regular “Frasier” episode, half a “mythology” episode, meaning working on the season’s low-burning arc about Niles (David Hyde Pierce) and Daphne (Jane Leeves) getting serious about other people when they should (?) be getting serious about each other. It’s also got an excellent subplot for John Mahoney where he and his friend’s widow, played by a wonderful Anita Gillette, enjoy commitment-free naughty sexy-time in their sixties or whatever. And it’s directed by Kelsey Grammer, who usually does more auspicious episodes.

It all might be okay if it weren’t entirely about villainizing Hyde Pierce’s new girlfriend, Jane Adams. She comes over for brunch, and everyone hates her. Will they or won’t they tell Hyde Pierce fills the last five or six minutes, comedy of errors-style. Except, as the episode points out earlier, everyone hated Hyde Pierce’s always-unseen ex-wife Maris, so it’s no surprise they don’t like the new girlfriend. Since we’re seven seasons in and Hyde Pierce’s marital problems subplot started in season three, I can’t remember if there was ever a period when everyone didn’t make fun of Maris (with Hyde Pierce around).

The whole point of the episode is to show how wrong Adams is for Hyde Pierce, what with Leeves right there and almost out of reach again because she’s getting married, but it just comes off as shitty to Adams. We get it; she’s a harpy. Mahoney reminds Grammer everyone hates all he and Hyde Pierce’s romantic partners (they don’t bring up Shelley Long, but Mahoney hated her too). Grammer and Hyde Pierce hated Mahoney’s steady girlfriend, played by Marsha Mason (who the show didn’t like for being working class). Way to remind the show’s got lousy parts for women.

The writing credit goes to executive story editor Bob Daily (his first scripting credit on the show) and Jon Sherman (his second). It feels like two episodes smooshed together because there’s actually not any whining in the brunch section. Unless you count Peri Gilpin complaining Grammer roped her into a brunch from hell. Grammer planned it before he and Hyde Pierce got into a fight about their wine club, which only takes up seven minutes of the episode (and feels like the non-mythology part of the show).

Anthony Head guest stars during the wine club scene. He’s great. It’s a shame it’s just the one scene.

There’s some hilarious stuff in the episode—drunk Leeves is a standout—but it’d be a lot better if it weren’t so craven.

Frasier (1993) s07e12 – RDWRER

Despite the unfestive title, RDWRER is the third “Frasier” in a row to do a holiday. Two episodes ago, it was a birthday episode (sort of) for Kelsey Grammer, then last episode was a Christmas episode, and now this episode is the New Year’s. There’s no specific mention of the new elephant—Jane Leeves knows David Hyde Pierce had a crush on her, but he doesn’t know she knows. Instead, it’s a Crane Boys episode; Grammer, Hyde Pierce, and Mahoney go on a wacky adventure.

The episode starts with Grammer and Peri Gilpin talking about their respective New Year’s. Grammer’s requires a flashback (and the entire episode). He and Hyde Pierce’s plans have fallen through, so they finagle an invite to a Wine Country party; they just need to get there. Good thing dad Mahoney’s custom plates—RDWRER (Road Warrior, sound it out)—have just arrived for his Winnebago. After a short scene with Leeves (she gets one bit then exits), it’s a road trip episode, with Grammer and Mahoney never letting Hyde Pierce drive.

New-to-the-show-this-season credited writers Sam Johnson and Chris Marcil do a great job, and Grammer delivers on the directing front. As per usual, he showcases his fellow actors over himself—Leeves’s outburst about late Christmas cards, Mahoney getting into it with a rural cop, Hyde Pierce convinced he’s been kidnapped. Then Grammer lets himself have a great showcase talking to Hyde Pierce—telephonically—about the kidnapping. It’s an “event” holiday episode, much more than the preceding two. The show’s not letting the mega-plot get in the way of an episode this time.

There are a couple fun and weird bits. First, Mahoney’s obsessed with Austin Powers, even though Grammer assures him he’s missed the pop culture moment. It’s silly and ages awkwardly—if they were really betting on Mike Myers being ubiquitous, they bet wrong—but it gives Mahoney some absurd lines to deliver well. Then Rebecca Schull guest stars. She was on “Wings,” which takes place in the same universe as “Cheers.” I can’t remember if there was ever any post-“Cheers” crossing over with “Frasier,” but… it’s a good bit part. She and Anthony Zerbe are an old couple also on the road in a Winnebago.

I think there was an episode of “Wings” where Schull had an evil twin. Maybe she’s playing the third sister here.

Anyway.

Excellent episode. Clock’s ticking, though. The clock is ticking.

Halloween Ends (2022, David Gordon Green)

While I had some expectations about Halloween Ends’s plot going in, based on the previous entry, the franchise, and behind-the-scenes scuttlebutt, nothing prepared me for a soft remake of Nightmare on Elm Street II.

Halloween Ends is not about Jamie Lee Curtis getting out the butcher knife granddaughter Andi Matichak gave her in the last movie to kill Michael Myers (once again James Jude Courtney and Nick Castle) with Will Patton helping like they’re an adorable old couple hunting serial killers. It’s about local boy Rohan Campbell who accidentally killed a little kid he was babysitting a year after the last movie’s events. On Halloween, obviously. So, Ends’s opening kill is a child’s graphic, accidental death.

It’s incredibly manipulative but also really compelling.

The action then moves ahead three more years. Curtis has given up the prepper life (which seems entirely unlikely given Ends would then take place in 2022, post-Covid—but just like with its immortal septuagenarian spree killers, it doesn’t take place in the real world). She and granddaughter Matichak live together in a charming house where Curtis works on her true crime memoir. Matichak’s a nurse, so she didn’t slow down with college after her entire life was destroyed. Despite being Matichak’s best performance in the series, she and Curtis still don’t have a rewarding cinematic relationship. They’re just too slasher movie broken for it to work, and the movie doesn’t even try.

Curtis happens across Campbell in the present—some high school seniors in the marching band are bullying him—and introduces him to Matichak, who’s apparently been dating a bunch of dudes since Courtney murdered her boyfriend last movie. Her most recent beau is a shitty cop—shitty even for cops—Jesse C. Boyd. Luckily for Matichak, thanks to the bullying, Campbell’s about to snap and has no qualms about picking fights with a cop. Not when he’s a bad boy who zooms around town real fast on the motorcycle he’s fixed up.

Ends fearlessly rides a motorcycle over its shark tank, no qualms about all the eighties horror movie tropes it implements (in addition to Nightmare II, Boyd also does a Christine-esque transformation). It’s shameless, which works for it. Especially since Matichak finds her newest Bonnie in Campbell, and they have eighties teen movie montages riding around on his bike, trying to escape their respective traumas.

The movie pays a lot of lip service to trauma and recovering from it. Curtis has a bunch of narration about it, including narrating clips from the other Halloween movies. It’s a little weird to have a forty-year-old franchise, but they’re only using the clips from the first one, H40, and Kills. They should’ve CGI’ed something else together for it. There’s not a lot of flash in Ends, all things considered. It’s a muted finale.

Albeit one with some bizarre plot decisions. Like having everyone in town hate Curtis for the 2018 massacre—she spent her life bullying a man with brain damage, what did she think would happen—or Patton basically being a cameo. If it weren’t this Halloween series with its deceptive opening titles vise a vie cast importance, he’d be unbilled.

Best music of the H40 trilogy from Cody Carpenter, John Carpenter, and Daniel A. Davies. Solid photography from Michael Simmonds and especially editing from Timothy Alverson. Green’s direction is fine. He’s not mimicking the original movie anymore, not with Campbell as the new protagonist, which helps.

It’s not good or successful, but it’s also not terrible, and it’s definitely the most engaging of the H40 series.

Frasier (1993) s07e09 – The Apparent Trap

The Apparent Trap is another episode “Frasier” can only do because it’s been running seven seasons, and there’s lots of back story. Plus, guest star kid Trevor Einhorn has aged enough he can more fully participate in the episode. He’s not quite full supporting, but he’s closer than he’s ever been before. It’s a Lilith (Bebe Neuwirth) episode and a Thanksgiving episode (the second Neuwirth Thanksgiving episode), so there are the traditional John Mahoney can’t stand Neuwirth, and she weirds Jane Leeves out material.

But it’s the first Neuwirth appearance she and David Hyde Pierce made the beasts with two backs last season, which means there is all sorts of new material for them to work through. And Kelsey Grammer, reacting to all of it. So Apparent has a lot going on before the A-plot finally reveals itself—Einhorn’s trying to get his parents back together. The title, obviously, lends itself to that story, though it also could’ve involved a previously unknown twin.

Anyway.

It’s a funny episode. The main plot’s not spectacular, but they’re able to get a lot of laughs from it. While Einhorn machinates, Neuwirth and Grammer are co-authoring an article (for The New York Times Magazine!) about single parenting when you’re rich, white, and smart. While the beginning of the episode focuses on Neuwirth as the regular cast’s cause for consternation, the second half almost plays like a backdoor pilot for a “Lilith” show. We get to see her as single parent, dealing with Einhorn’s day-to-day problems while (almost always offscreen weekends) weekend dad Grammer mainly just supports her. Despite Einhorn visiting Grammer (Neuwirth’s an unexpected guest), Grammer doesn’t spend much time with him.

Instead, Einhorn’s got a good video game subplot with Hyde Pierce, then the standard boyishly lusting after Leeves (in knowing competition with Hyde Pierce).

But the episode’s mostly Neuwirth’s. She gets a couple great showcases, which just make the opening animosity stuff with Mahoney a little tired after seven seasons.

Grammer also directs the episode, showcasing how far he’s come; when he started, Grammer didn’t appear in the episodes he directed, and now he’s second lead. Though he’s the one giving Neuwirth the showcase. He’s good about sharing the show’s spotlight, especially when directing, even when he’s around.

Leeves has only got a little bit—a funny monologue about unseen fiancé Donnie’s Thanksgiving is the highlight—while Peri Gilpin is only in the first scene, setting up Grammer’s plans, so there are some balance issues. Like Mahoney being missing for the beginning of Thanksgiving dinner like they don’t have enough chairs.

The script credit goes to Dan O’Shannon, his first “Frasier” writing credit. The script does a good job of a traditional, annual, very special episode (Neuwirth or Einhorn guesting, a holiday). It’s an easy episode, but when it’s strong, it’s bending steel bars. Neuwirth’s superb.

All Rise (2019) s03e04 – Trouble Man

It’s J. Alex Brinson’s first murder trial—as a public defender—and he’s up against jogging pal and former mentor Wilson Bethel, and Simone Missick’s their judge. I like how at some point, “All Rise” just stopped worrying about Bethel and Missick being besties and let her hear his cases. Missick, of course, was Brinson’s judge when he was a bailiff and also a mentor. So lots of personal pressures. Plus, his client, Geoffrey Owens, doesn’t seem not guilty and is antagonistic over Brinson not thinking he’s not guilty.

While the courtroom bickering sometimes goes unrealistically (for the characters) over the top—Brinson and Bethel bickering, then Brinson talking back to Missick—it’s a good showcase for Brinson. First, he’s got the client he thinks is guilty and his struggling to defend him, then he gets new information and thinks maybe the guy’s innocent, which just makes things more complicated. Especially when Bethel takes him out for beers and a warning, though when Brinson accuses Bethel of playing mind games with opposing council… it’s not like they didn’t work together all of last season, and Bethel never, ever did that thing.

Missick gets two subplots. She’s still trying to reconcile with now-former clerk, Ruthie Ann Miles, including making her work in her old courtroom for Missick (which makes no sense since Miles’s new boss is around). Then at home, Mr. Mom husband, Christian Keyes, is getting involved in couponing and bulk discounts, which is concerning. It’s a reasonably funny subplot, with Keyes very willing to be the butt of the joke.

The other main plot is Jessica Camacho trying to get client Tina Ivlev reunited with her kids. Ivlev storming into social services demanding to see them doesn’t help. They eventually end up in front of family court judge Dan Castellaneta (Homer Simpson in a straight dramatic part). It’s not a particularly big plot for Camacho, who also gets to hang out with Brinson for a scene and then moves into Lindsey Gort’s offices just because there’s a spare desk in a throwaway scene (maybe it’ll be important later). But it’s keeping Camacho’s plot line going, and it’s a good one.

Then Lindsay Mendez’s victim’s advocate for the Brinson case, which has the victim’s son, McCarrie McCausland, demanding the LAPD police Black neighborhoods more. The show does have a conversation about that subject—with new chief judge Roger Guenveur Smith showing up for the first time since the season premiere and doing much better than in that episode. It’s a little much (they’re eventually going to give Missick a “not all cops” t-shirt), but it’s not as bad as it initially threatens.

Lots of good acting, particularly from Brinson, Owens, and Missick. Rob Greenlea’s direction’s okay, though combined with the script (credited to Corey Moore), the pacing’s a little off.

Frasier (1993) s07e01 – Momma Mia

The season’s off to an excellent start with this episode, which also inadvertently shows how much “Frasier” has changed getting to season seven. First is with Kelsey Grammer directed episodes; Grammer’s first couple efforts didn’t have him around—I think he was entirely absent in one, and showed for the intro in the other—but he’s front and center for most of Momma Mia.

The second development is more subtle and also possibly a result of an already full episode—David Hyde Pierce isn’t low-key lusting after Jane Leeves in their scene together. Leeves has only got one scene (it’s going to be a full episode, after all), but gets to be in on the first reveal of the episode’s punchline—Grammer’s dating a woman who looks just like his mom (guest star Rita Wilson) and doesn’t know it.

Except Hyde Pierce sees it right away and talks to Leeves about it. Dad John Mahoney’s going to have to wait for a little while later into the episode so they can build more tension.

While the episode opens with Grammer’s meet-cute of errors with Wilson, which involves Peri Gilpin’s fix-up not showing up for him, then Gilpin telling the wrong lady she’s caught Grammer’s eye, the episode’s all about Mahoney’s birthday weekend. Grammer and Hyde Pierce are taking him to the family cabin—“Frasier” has gone to many a family cabin and I’m pretty sure none of them have been the same cabin. This cabin is a rental, however, so they get a continuity pass.

Though it doesn’t make sense why they’d rent a cabin when they’ve already got their… never mind.

Hyde Pierce and Grammer quickly start bickering once they arrive, which seems like obvious Crane boys drama in the script—credited to Rob Hanning—but it’s actually all set up. They’re children, with dad Mahoney, and lady who looks like mom Wilson. Leads to some very funny scenes. The episode’s got a lot of laughs, both deliberate ones the script sets up, but then also a bunch of physical material for Hyde Pierce. He’s afraid of the bugs, you see. They even do an absurd bit where he’s got a suitcase with nothing but different kinds of bug repellant. It’s too broad but at least quick.

By the end of the episode, they’ve gotten past all the laughs for some sincere family moments for Grammer, Hyde Pierce, and Mahoney. Despite Mahoney and Hyde Pierce sharing a plot thread, observing Grammer on his separate one with Wilson, there’s even a nice moment for Mahoney and Grammer. It’s an extremely well-constructed episode.

It’s really funny. There are a couple hiccups—the suitcase of bug repellant is the stand-out—but there are a dozen really good laughs. Leeves and Gilpin don’t get a lot of screen time, but they’re very good with what they do get, especially Leeves.

Season seven’s looking good.

Girl on a Chain Gang (1966, Jerry Gross)

The actual chain gang sequence of Girl on a Chain Gang is in the third act. There are no actual chain gang sequences; all of that action happens off-screen, almost as though producer, screenwriter, and director Gross couldn’t afford enough chain to make it happen. But getting there is quite the ordeal for characters and audience alike.

Chain Gang tells the tale of three Northern college folks, one white man, one Black man, and one white woman, who’ve traveled to the South to help get people registered to vote. Unfortunately, they draw the attention of a couple drunken sheriff’s deputies who’re thrilled to harass some Yankees. The film doesn’t identify the location of the film’s action outside the fictional town (it was filmed on Long Island). Still, with the constant gator references and the sheriff being terrified of the state police finding out he’s running illegal work farms, regularly raping women, and murdering men… it seems like Florida.

Julie Ange plays the woman who the sheriff (William Watson) and his deputies accuse of being a prostitute so they can arrest her and her friends without much incident. Ron Charles and Peter Nevard play the deputies. The film introduces them getting drunk with a local sex worker, Arlene Farber, who’s all right because she helps sheriff Watson frame folks. Chain Gang’s never subtle, but the closest would be its characterization of Watson’s religiosity. He’s a Bible-thumping, drunken murderer and rapist; the film only ever quietly acknowledges the ostensible hypocrisy (but he is, actually, just reading his Bible), like Gross knows he can’t be too nasty about the Christianity.

In the first act of the film seems like Ange and her friends will be the leads. Ron Segal plays the white guy, the most accomplished in the group (he’s going to Yale); he’s also the one who talks back to Watson and his goons, though it’s never clear if he makes those initial situations worse. The actor who plays the Black guy is uncredited, and his name seems entirely lost to history. Considering he’s the third lead for most of the movie—despite Ange being the Girl in the title, she disappears for most of the second act—one might assume the actor didn’t want his name associated with the film.

The protagonist for most of the film is the sheriff, who’s cobbling together a way to frame the trio and contending with his drunken moron staff and yokels to get the job done. There’s no one sympathetic in the small town outside Phillip Vanyon’s doctor, and he’s only sympathetic to a certain point. Gross is relentless in showcasing Watson’s villainy, with Watson perfectly marrying the mundane and obscene. Chain Gang’s got mostly bad performances and paper-thin writing, but it’s also entirely realistic. Gross unintentionally makes his exploitation picture documentary-esque just because the bad guys are so human and so conventional.

Watson’s captivating. He’s always revolting, always horrifying, always transfixing. He disappears at the end of the second act, after the film following him for probably an hour. Chain Gang runs a very long ninety-six minutes. The first hour zooms along, but it conks out as it moves through the second act. It’s already been puttering when Watson vanishes.

Ange’s sympathetic but not good. She suffers misogyny not just from the bad guys, but even the not bad guys, even her friends. Well, Segal. Segal being a selfish asshole is another one of Chain Gang’s seemingly unintentional truths. He’s also bad, acting-wise. The uncredited Black actor doesn’t do well in his big scene, but it’s terrible, so it’s hard to hold it against him. He otherwise is fine. Or at least, in the better lot of the film’s performances.

The film’s reasonably good looking for its low budget. The photography declines in the third act, but so does the direction.

There’s also a strange, upbeat jazzy score by Steve Karmen, which works in the film’s favor most of the time.

Outside the terrifyingly good performance by Watson, Girl on a Chain Gang has the most to offer as a historical object. It could be worse, it probably couldn’t be better, but it definitely could be shorter. Shorter would help.

Lost in Space (2018) s02e10 – Ninety-Seven

After spending most of the season away, this episode’s writing credit goes to reboot creators Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless. I figured they were back to get the show in shape for season three, but I didn’t realize it’s all they were going to do. Sure, they spend fourteen minutes to resolve all the cliffhangers and themes from the last two or three episodes (including opening credits). But once Molly Parker and Toby Stephens stop the bad guy, the episode’s all about staying busy until the season cliffhanger.

There’s a reasonably good action plotline involving dozens of robots trying to take back their warp drive. The episode teases the idea Maxwell Jenkins isn’t okay with Parker’s plan to vaporize all the robots—he says they’re intelligent beings, she says they’re not. But, as it plays… they’re kind of one-note villains, so she’s more right than wrong. There will be a big-budget rock’em sock’em robots sequence, and it looks excellent—Alex Graves does a good but indistinct job directing—but there’s no character there. Not even the vaguest implications. So, basically the old series Cylons? Only CGI.

The mothership is once again in danger. This time from a robot alien fleet, and they only have two hours to get out of there. Two hours quickly because thirty minutes, as the show gets ready to set up season three. The script lays in heavy on the foreshadowing, too, possibly because the hook for next season is… well, a big change for the show. A potentially obnoxious big change for the show.

The episode’s got some good acting from Parker Posey and Ignacio Serricchio. Taylor Russell’s arc is all about her being ready to be a grown-up, so it’d usually hinge on her acting. But it barely gets a focus—though Russell gets the only real arc, with even Jenkins (who’s got lots to do with robots) getting downgraded as the episode progresses. There’s just so much other stuff going on.

For a season finale, it feels off. Between blowing off the resolution to the outstanding arcs and rushing into another crisis… I mean, I guess “Netflix Lost in Space” really is just “Battlestar Lost in Space,” or so it seems whenever it’s Sazama and Sharpless on the writing credit. Heck, the episode title, *Ninety-Seven*, is a “Battlestar” nod (or rip).

The second season started much stronger than it finishes, even without the concept refresh for next season. The cast still—mostly—got it through, but there’s a lot of excess material in “Season Two,” which is particularly bad since most of the episodes ran forty minutes. They just didn’t have enough story. And no one seemed particularly invested in the story they did have.

It’s a better episode than the worst in the season, but the next season teaser seems like it’s at best slowed the decline, not stopped it.

The sci-if special effects are excellent, with Graves seeming to get the Star Wars feel of it. There’s also a nice Alien 3 nod. “Lost in Space” is still okay, just less so than before. And next season's setup is primed for a game of chicken with a shark tank.

Lost in Space (2018) s02e02 – Precipice

Alex Graves is back directing this episode; unlike last time, he lets “Lost in Space” take advantage of its John Williams theme music to do some Williams-esque riffs. The major disaster sequence, which sets up the rest of the episode, gets very emotive music.

The action immediately follows the last episode, with the family assembling and going over what they’ve learned and got to do. There’s a great moment when Ignacio Serricchio asks Molly Parker to repeat his assignment for the sake of exposition. Then things start going wrong immediately, with the kite Doc Brown ties to the clocktower in hopes of collecting the 1.21 Gigawatts–wait, wait, wrong movie. But something does go wrong with the kite. And then something else goes wrong. And then once they figure out the next thing to do, something else goes wrong, then something else.

Then killer seaweed starts attacking the cast, getting Serricchio the worst and putting him in sickbay for the rest of the episode. Unfortunately, the only person onboard matching his blood type is Parker Posey, who’s been reading Mina Sundwall’s memoir of their voyages and discovered Serricchio’s got some secrets to hide. It’s interesting to see Posey be straightforward in her machinations with Serricchio and their scenes are funny thanks to his partial paralysis.

Meanwhile, Taylor Russell feels like Toby Stephens doesn’t trust her enough when he says she needs to recognize she’s the doctor and can’t be doing the grunt work. This episode’s grunt work involves dangling the SUV out the back of the space-camper by a metal cable to save the family and refill the battery. But, unfortunately, the killer seaweed and various convenient inconveniences hamper their progress.

There’s a lot of character drama for Sundwall and Parker. They find themselves unexpectedly paired for the episode’s adventures, and Parker has to acknowledge maybe Sundwall’s not as useful as her other kids. Of course, given these crisis activities are the areas where Jenkins failed on his colonial tests and Sundwall passes, it plays like the show just ran out of stuff for Sundwall to do and gave her a gripe arc.

Their arc’s not great but does end up having a fairly reasonable conclusion.

One big change in the family’s reaction to the life-threatening crises is no one seems worried they’re going to die. Last season, there was always a lot of angst around imminent failure and destruction. This season, no one gets very worked out about it. They just have to complete all the tasks, and somehow it’ll work out. It’s very much doing disaster movie. Though not pacing-wise. Credited to Zack Estrin, the script plunges from one disaster to another.

We do get some more of the Cylon mythology, with the family discovering giant metal lightning rods built by the same intelligence as built the robot. They also find—six months after the previous season’s finale—the second, always evil robot’s lopped-off arm, which means they didn’t clean the garage in six months.

The disaster dramatics are a little much, but the actors carry it—and the special effects are excellent—making the episode more effective than it would be based on the plot machinations. There are a couple cliffhangers, one sort of rewinding the stakes two episodes back to last season finale, and then one where Posey shows she hasn’t learned anything as far as planning ahead.

Lost in Space (2018) s02e01 – Shipwrecked

After a reveal about last season’s finale, the episode reestablishing the ground situation—the Robinsons and friends have been marooned on a mostly water, very toxic planet for six months because the Cylon engine has stopped working. I may just call the robot’s “species” the Cylons. I haven’t decided. After they set it all up, the episode quickly becomes a “Murphy’s law” disaster movie, sort of like it was getting at the end of last season.

Murphy’s law—I already googled it for us—meaning “Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.”

The family has the space-camper set up on a beach, and they’re growing corn and other vegetables. They don’t have enough power for the lights, but they’re trying with the solar panels and so on. The first act is all about the Christmas they’re having, what with Parker Posey still a prisoner in part of the ship and then Ignacio Serricchio being the slightly exasperated live-in handyman. For Christmas, Maxwell Jenkins has published—unclear with what resources—sister Mina Sundwall’s memoir about season one, Lost in Space. Everyone reading it or not reading it will be a subplot.

But they’re one big happy family given the circumstances—they still think the mothership will come to get them even though they clearly wormholed to the Delta Quadrant last season finale—and dad Toby Stephens is going to teach Jenkins how to drive. But it’s really boring to drive one of the future SUVs, so they have to make it sound like driving a car in the dialogue. Sundwall’s super snarky about it, which isn’t funny, just justified. The first act kind of drags.

Especially since, even though last season established Molly Parker and Stephens were partners now when she wants to go and try to refuel the ship at some regular lightning storms, Stephens says no.

Then something bad happens, and all of a sudden, they’ve got to do it. And time, as it has to be, is going to be tight.

The episode takes a few extra beats to reveal Parker’s plan to allow the audience to have an “ah-ha” moment, which is probably the weirdest move in the entire episode. The script, credited to remake creators Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless, is relatively well-balanced, but they do not want to lean in on science and engineering in their science fiction. It’s not a significant problem. The episode’s got a new-to-the-series director, Alex Graves, and a really nice special effects budget given who difficult the journey will be for the family. It looks good. Probably the best the show’s effects have ever looked. So the season’s off to a good start on that front.

Character-wise… since they’re marooned, they’re mostly spinning wheels. Jenkins is mooning over the robot, Russell and Sundwall are bored (though people reading her book gives Sundwall a plot). Serricchio’s in stasis, ditto Parker to some degree. Stephens is thrilled playing extreme farmer, which could be interesting but isn’t. Posey’s going to have the most significant arc in the episode. She’s currently trying to manipulate Sundwall (in addition to everyone else), but mostly Sundwall.

It’s dramatically far more rewarding than when Posey was grooming Jenkins.

There’s a cliffhanger with a reveal, then a tag with another reveal, but the show never resolves some of its season one leftovers. The six-month jump-ahead also helps them ignore treacherous Posey in their midst.

But it’s a great-looking, entertaining start. The character dynamics are down, the actors are more comfortable—though Jenkins is growing fast, and Stephens shouldn’t have cut off his facial hair. Instead of looking like budget Michael Fassbender or Hugh Jackman, he seems like budget Damian Lewis, which isn’t the same thing.