In the Hands of the Prophets (O.B. 20 June 1993) score: 5

** This episode veers to culture-war, thus the following review may be more contentious than usual. ** 

"In the Hands of the Prophets" might have made a fine episode for later in the series, but as introduction to the day-to-day administration of Bajoran religion -- and thus, to the first extended dialogue with religion in Star Trek history -- it fails.  Behind its pretense of advocating tolerance, we have:

• controversy over Keiko's teaching basic science
• Jake evoking Galileo (the name has added significance for fans)
• Kira's notion of a separate school for Bajorans
• Keiko's schoolroom blown up
• an assassination attempt, by a religious fanatic named Neela (get it?)

Robert Hewitt Wolfe wrote the original script for Season One's finale, and made revealing comments:

Sisko does everything he can not to impose his values on the Bajorans ... (The Deep Space Nine Companion, p. 68)

Actually, no.  As Kira says, a confrontation was inevitable (given the perceived sanctity of the nearby wormhole): Sisko could've sat down with Keiko and Bajoran representatives to draw boundaries.  It may've precluded conflict, especially if Opaka were still available.  Instead, the Starfleeters trivialize local beliefs until they can't, even as the episode paints them innocent. 

Wolfe says the Bajoran heirarchy is based on

fifteenth- and sixteenth-century Catholicism, when the pope held much more of a political office than now ... (every) powerful family in southern Europe was fighting to get their guy to be pope.  (In such a context) Vedek Winn is determined to impose her values on everyone.  

Yes, story and designs evoke the fifteenth century, the better to slam the Christian right, notorious for blocking science, as portrayed.  Like Starfleet's passive aggression, Winn's bullying is very 20th-century.  Granted, Louise Fletcher's Winn became a great Star Trek villain, but her prominence is nearly incompatible with (a message of) mutual religious tolerance.

Religion-bashing (neo-atheism) often exhibits the traits it condemns.  Keiko is satisfying her religious impulse with science: watch her light up as she says the word.  To be entirely fair, this might be intentional character-beat; Keiko is portrayed as rather self-righteous, in this episode.

7 of 9, rapt before the god particle

Religious accounting wasn't necessarily new to the Star Trek franchise.  During Season 2, TOS added John Meredyth Lucas, concurrently writer-producer for Insight, the low-budget dramatic anthology produced by the Paulist Fathers (a Catholic organization).  It's possible this hire was partly to mitigate Gene Roddenberry's insistent agnosticism.*  By 1993, of course, Roddenberry's beliefs were Hollywood-mainstream.

Deep Space Nine's producers supplied an intriguing Bajoran cosmology, only to wander the desert (exceptions will be noted, assuming I continue this blog).  Ultimately, DS9 disposed of its mythology much like The X-Files: extending and attenuating, with switchbacks and red herrings, as many viewers ceased to understand or care.

* I'm aware of no documentation either way (and not having read These Are the Voyages).  

Duet (O.B. 13 June 1993) score: 8

A mass-market series in its first season must avoid offense; a Star Trek series delivers provocations.  "Duet" masterfully walks the line.

If Season One had a weak second half, this episode presumably benefited from extra care.  Dialogue, acting, and James Conway's direction are so elegant, I forgot until the research stage, it's a bottle show.

standout guest Harris Yulin

Story writers Lisa Rich and Jeanne Carrigan Fauci aspired to children's TV.  It makes sense, as "Duet" is a suitable introduction to the subject of genocide, for children too young to watch based-on-truth dramas. 

"Duet" is superior, arguably, in Gul Darhe'el's defiance, which matches actual war-criminals.  Schindler's List and 12 Years a Slave flatter the audience with  villains not only genocidal, but self-loathing alcoholics.  DS9's nostalgist is refreshing, terribly:

"For a labor camp, Gallitep was a model of order and efficiency!  ... I was the best at what I did!  ... You've already lost, Major.  You can never undo what I've accomplished. ... Everything I did was for the glory of Cardassia! ... What you call genocide, I call a day's work."   

Amid madness, the conclusion (spoilers ahead) softens the narrative for family viewing.  The teaser had used the whiplash-switch from consensus-best Hammer House of Horror, "The Silent Scream": an assumed concentration-camp survivor was really a perpetrator (Peter Cushing in the Hammer episode).  With Kira swept up in vengeance, and perhaps vanity, it's Odo who asks about a supposed war-criminal remembering the roster of her old resistance cell.

As Kira's case falls apart, she must accept, not only Bajorans were victimized by the Cardassian occupation.  What seemed thin disguise was false confession.  I'm reminded of the Steve Buscemi character in Ghost World, passive when charged with racism ... false charges, but he's tired of razor alibis. 

Superb episodes evoking crimes against humanity became standard for Star Trek in the 1990s and early 2000s.  TOS was more skittish, presenting coded Nazis with reasons in "The Conscience of the King" and "The Empath," or on-the nose in "Patterns of Force" and "The Savage Curtain."  TNG raised the stakes, with "The Measure of a Man" and "The Outcast."  VOY went furthest, daring to implicate the viewer in remarkable entries including "Jetrel," "Living Witness," and "Memorial."  For the utopian franchise, the stakes are highest when people are at their worst.

** The science fiction content in "Duet" is tenuous, but note the (visual) quote from Blade Runner, when Dax examines the archived photo.  Concerning the "retirement" of ostracized "replicants," Blade Runner is a coded genocide text. ** "Duet" was inspired partly by The Man in the Glass Booth, the Robert Shaw play, admired as a Nimoy credit in For the Love of Spock. **  

Dramatis Personae (O.B. 30 May 1993) score: 2

In the Deep Space 9 Companion, Joe Menosky is quoted regarding the Star Trek episodes he wrote while living in Italy:

"there was always a fairly large gap between what I turned in and what was shot.  And I can't even tell you what the differences were, because I never got to see any of the shows I wrote during that period!" 

Well, that's close to disowning the work without burning bridges.  Considering "Dramatis Personae" comes near the end of Season 1 -- followed by two ambitious, provocative segments that would've eaten producer-hours -- this one fell to a time crunch.   

It's a great set-up: a Klingon croaks a mystifying "Victory!"; not long after, Odo's head is turned inside out by an unknown agent, but the story slows to a crawl, ultimately yielding nothing but a half-finished clock, visible thereafter in Sisko's office.

In the meantime, the crew, under influence of an alien archive, compulsively re-enacts an ancient schism, backing Sisko or Kira, while an immune Odo seeks a cure.  In an effort to relieve the portentous mood, the script renders Dax nostalgic and dizzy, vaguely like her alter in "If Wishes Were Horses."  Bashir fares best.  As if taking Garak to heart, he's playfully cagey, and gets the best line: when Odo asks about the Klingon, the doctor responds, "He's still dead, if that's what you mean."  The old joke a twinkling star, here.

"Dramatis Personae" evokes many episodes, including "Mirror, Mirror" and "Day of the Dove" from TOS.  There's no reason Menosky and company would know, but it also bears great similarity to "The Savage Syndrome," a script for the never-filmed Phase II.  However broken, "Dramatis Personae" may have been idea bank for the ensuing series, as Kira tries out the Intendant and Bashir revels in deceit.  Ben Sisko's clock obsession prefigures his solar spaceship in "Explorers," and the ancient spire in "Rapture." 

TNG did best with alternate-life scenarios, as in "Conundrum" and "The Inner Light" (Picard kept the flute).  This formula is tricky on DS9: who cares about a play-acted mutiny when the real thing seems possible?  "Dramatis Personae" is ultimately as fatuous as the supposed Maquis tensions on Voyager.     

Given world enough, I'd try to reverse-engineer what Menosky had in mind.  The original title was "Ritual Sacrifice"; Sisko's persona was inspired by Emperor Rudolf II, forward-thinking patron of arts and sciences in 16th-17th century Europe, keeper of a legendary cabinet of curiosities.  Kira obsesses over Valerian gunrunning, evidenced by dolamide traces, the names suggesting sleep and sadness.  The infectious archive belonged to the "Saltah'na," which evokes "sultan" (or maybe expat Menosky had been eating salted cod).

Given implied East-West border anxieties, a rounded version might've been DS9's answer to Black Narcissus.  But episode-writers: if you build a clock, tell the time.

The Forsaken (O.B. 23 May 1993) score: 6

As the series limps to finish its debut, unrequited love leads to grudging friendship.  Well, this form has worked everywhere from Shakespeare to Peanuts, and it works adequately here, as Lwaxana's crush arcs from comical to poignant.

Odo's gruff facade would attract the occasional female, like it or not, and Lwaxana Troi is not one easily discouraged.  In being sex-positive, she'd be frankly intrigued by the alien, although the script settles for the psychological.  Whereas Odo struggles with an identity crisis, Lwaxana sees a man who can mold himself, not requiring a woman to do so.

Odo's side of the encounter is also well-written.  When he references the Bajoran who'd "been assigned to him," it's a clue Rene Auberjonois is actually playing Star Trek's version of Frankenstein's monster. 

Nepotism isn't all bad, being the source of Roddenberry's wife's change-of-pace visits as Lwaxana Troi, mother of Deanna, holder of the sacred chalice (etc.), otherwise known as "the Auntie Mame of the galaxy."  As with John DeLancie, Barrett's technical style is a bit dated, but more than offset by the larger-than-life role in a fantasy context.

In the B-plot, Chief O'Brien struggles with the disruptions of a computer life form, finally adopting it like a lost puppy.  This is self-recycling; see also "The Changeling," Star Trek -- The Motion Picture, and TNG: "The Quality of Life."  In "The Forsaken" the A.I. is unseen, thus particularly hard to dramatize; see also The Net and Firewall.

The episode seems indecisive as to whether B-story connects to A: did "the pup" want Odo confined with Lwaxana?  Finally, it may've worked better with the pup imprinting on Sisko, in that the commander spends the first two acts, rather smugly, having his team run interference. 

** Lwaxana's presence may've evoked the B-plot, if the writers saw the 1974 animated episode in which the Enterprise computer is "The Practical Joker."  As always, that computer was voiced by Majel Barrett. **     

If Wishes Were Horses (O.B. 16 May 1993) score: 5

In his Cinefantastique feature previewing DS9 (April 1993), Mark A. Altman made-new-friends by quoting a studio flack:

"Do not call (Quark's facilities) sexual Holosuites or a brothel!" 

a quote from TOS "Shore Leave"

Presumably, this inspired the production's press blackout of the magazine, but is quoted here to illumine DS9's penchant for fantasies and hallucinations (see also "Distant Voices," "Our Man Bashir," "Far Beyond the Stars" as well as the Vic Fontaine and "crossover" segments).  Such a range deflects criticism, in reminding the viewer of the fantasist in the mirror.

"If Wishes Were Horses" unreels pleasantly enough, as the crew sleuths the sudden appearance of baseball great Buck Bokai (Ben's holo-character), a submissive Jadzia (Julian's desire), and Rumpelstiltskin, the latter promising to save the station in exchange for Molly (Miles and Keiko's first-born, of course).  Answers come as grinding technobabble, but it helps that the cast is uniformly excellent.  Keone Young was cast by a baseball fan, clearly, in that he'd make an unconvincing representative of most any other sport.  Michael John Anderson is better known for art-TV (Twin Peaks, Carnivale), while Terry Farrell has a ball as alt-Jadzia.

Star Trek is a plot-based confection, so from "The Naked Time" forward, character fancies are off-format.  They're also inevitable, given the need for 22 episodes per.  For narrative tension they'll update The Odyssey -- the lotus-eaters, Circe, the Sirens -- with Trek regulars little more likely to die than Odysseus (the latter's shipmates, then, were early redshirts).

Ultimately, "If Wishes Were Horses" is similar to "Shore Leave," "Spectre of the Gun" et al., as the regulars prevail by disbelieving the figments.  The tag hints at a sequel, never produced.  On the other hand, the episode's aliens are so reticent, who can say?

** Rumpelstiltskin joined the scenario after Colm Meaney rejected leprechauns as problematic stereotype.  Of course, interrogating same would've duplicated the Dax subplot. **
** DS9 stepped nearer self-definition with Ben Sisko's love for baseball, otherwise extinct.  Despite pace-of-play hand-wringing, there's little sign of baseball expiring, but Buck Bokai was nevertheless prophetic: we're told he broke DiMaggio's streak (of consecutive games with a hit), whereas Ichiro Suzuki (then 19) was destined to be the global "hit king" (if MLB and Japanese-league stats are combined).  

Progress (O.B. 9 May 1993) score: 6

Finally, a Star Trek series has a female character (more than one) to carry an episode without strain.  With "Progress," DS9  avoids Voyager's mistake (whatever happened with those Maquis-Starfleet tensions?), paying off Kira as the former terrorist bending to politics.  Here, her agonized arc recalls Admiral Jarok (James Sloyan) in TNG "The Defector," with Sisko attenuating Picard's dressing-down of a traitor.
It's tempting to overrate "Progress," but the stalling isn't all Mullibok's.  This is another DS9 that's sci-fi just barely, indeed, torching a farmer's hut likely caused a few Vietnam flashbacks (it's questionable this scene would've gained approval for a 1970s or 80s episode).

"Progress" works because of the cast, with Brian Keith one of the franchise's great guest stars.  Just as Star Trek has Westerns in its DNA, before his Family Affair Keith starred in Nevada Smith (with Steve McQueen) and Sam Peckinpah's The Deadly Companions, while gracing dozens of TV series; he was the lead in Peckinpah's short-lived The Westerner. 

Like Charlton Heston in Will Penny, Keith in "Progress" lends instant weight to the study of a formidable pioneer turned victim, because aged at epochal change.

** Trivia question: which DS9 guest dares address Kira Nerys as "girl," "child," and "dear"?  If a clue is needed, Mullibok also reckons her "halfway pretty." **
** In the B-story, "self-sealing stembolts" might've been inspired by the self-sealing bags available to comics and magazine collectors, a group which includes a few Star Trek fans and reviewers. **   

The Storyteller (O.B. 2 May, 1993) score: 4

Star Trek Voyager takes a licking, but it got up-to-speed better than either TNG or DS9.  Showrunner Jeri Taylor was both focused and in her prime.  Compare DS9 S1, produced during TNG's final season with Star Trek: Generations on the white board.  With Berman and Piller spread thin, latter S1 falls off the table, as one timeworn script runs into the next.

Miles O'Brien, captive audience

To be fair, "The Storyteller" is hard to appreciate for a TOS fan, being a qualified remake of "The Paradise Syndrome."  Again, circumstances make a Starfleeter shaman of a native group: here, it's O'Brien as the accidental "Sirah," facing the dragon equivalent, evoking both Forbidden Planet and The Village.  As in the 1968 episode, the crewman must be extricated (a jealous local brandishes a knife) without disrupting the culture.

"The Storyteller" adds a B story reminiscent of TNG's "The Dauphin," about a pretty young alien leader interacting with Jake and Nog (Varis is played by Gina Philips, later of Ally McBeal and Boston Public).  Like all Star Trek series, DS9 attempted to lure kids and families, with the Jake-and-Nog combination working better than most (Wesley, Naomi Wildman).
"The Storyteller" was a leftover script from TNG, but that's not the problem, in fact the rewrite launches the satisfying O'Brien-Bashir relationship.  While there's nothing terrible here (except perhaps the effects for the Dal'Rok), there's also little that's memorable.  Also, a plot surrounding the fitness of new leaders is awfully similar to "The Nagus," then green in memory.
But as Doris Day sang, que Sirah, Sirah. 

Battle Lines (O.B. 25 April, 1993) score: 6

At this point in the original run, I was still resisting Deep Space 9 : "attempts a substantive episode, but there's really no moral question here, no decision to be made ... a ripoff of 'Day of the Dove.'" 

Well, Jonathan Swift and Paths of Glory both predate "Day of the Dove."  And there is a moral question, if nothing new: how do we stop hating?  "Battle Lines" has no answers, except to leave Kai Opaka on the planet as possible savior.  Note these alien fighters seem to have no spirituality of their own; perhaps it fell to their all-encompassing conflict. 
The point of the episode, of course, is combatants who've long forgotten what started the war.  In turn, they seem forgotten by those who cast them into exile.  Still, it's interesting Brokeback Mountain will use the name Ennis.  For Baby Boomers, Nol-Ennis evokes the grassy knoll of JFK assassination lore.
I've vaguely dreaded reviewing this episode, ever more pointed.  Its gloomy, blasted prison is the American civic landscape.  We tear at each other in the press, then ask leading questions of strangers to distinguish Ennis from Nol-Ennis.  Some disingenuously hope for progress, as generations turn, but any student of history knows we are cursed with immortality.   

Kai Opaka shows up later in the series, but I won't bother checking.  We know it's eternal dusk, and the Ennis and Nol-Ennis are at each other's throats.

** It's no coincidence this episode defines the Federation as non-military (per the DS9 Companion, Rick Berman imagined more of a trading alliance).  Sisko describes an alliance for mutual scientific, cultural and defensive benefit. **  

Vortex (O.B. 18 April, 1993) score: 5

Sam Rolfe got an Oscar nomination for co-writing The Naked Spur, one of a cycle of five Westerns directed by Anthony Mann and starring James Stewart.  By hiring Rolfe to write "Vortex," Peter Allan Fields closed a circle, having broken in with Rolfe's The Man From U.N.C.L.E.  Rolfe also co-created Have Gun - Will Travel, a key credit for Gene Roddenberry. 

Odo sneaks a prisoner from DS9

Unfortunately, the above makes a better story than this episode, which loses much of its appeal now we know about Odo's people.
Like The Naked Spur, "Vortex" uses the stock plot where a lawman protects a prisoner in transit.  Here, the threat comes from a vengeful Miradorn, the survivor of a meeting gone awry (at Quark's) where his twin was killed.  Like the Trill, and later the Dominion, the Miradorn are a joined species, but it makes little difference.
A shape-shifting pendant gives Odo personal interest in the journey, as he seeks his origin.  But his bumbling charge Croden is bluffing, and the constable learns little except that his kind are sometimes called "Changelings."  (According to The Deep Space 9 Companion, this is the first episode in which Odo smiles.)  Croden is a Rakhari, another race unworthy of a sequel. 

Recalling Season One-era comparisons to Gunsmoke and The Rifleman, "Vortex" is well-paced filler.  While crowded with aliens, their motivations are as familiar as greed, survival and familial bonds.  The major sci-fi note is the climax, a reprise of the ignite-the-vapors ploy. 

**  The smuggled object (for which Quark schemes) resembles a Faberge egg.  Hard to say whether the writer knew about the prop, but in this context, the glimmers of revolution against the repressive Rakhari regime evoke Russia.  (The 1917 Bolshevik revolution doomed the Romanovs, for whom the eggs were fashioned.)  **

The Nagus (OB 21 March, 1993) score: 6

In seven seasons and 150 episodes, a soft story will sometimes make it to the soundstage, where the cast and crew must sell it.  "The Nagus" lacks dramatic tension, but earns distinction by introducing Grand Nagus Zek (Wallace Shawn), perhaps Trek's most amusing recurring character, along with The Rules of Acquisition and Zek's catchphrase, "You've failed miserably!"  Note the Godfather homage, with a satiric twist: acting-Nagus Quark forgets about respect at the mere mention of profit.

"When in doubt, be ruthless." - Zek 

TNG's Ferengi were cartoonish villains (they'd have twisted their  mustaches, if they'd had mustaches); DS9 surrendered to common sense, making the lobed ones comic.  Rom lags, still fretfully malicious here.  He almost spaces Quark, and seems (nearly) capable of doing so.

A parallel subplot, trouble in the Jake/Nog friendship, includes a scene that's bittersweet in retrospect: Ben Sisko reminding his son human-Ferengi relations are problematic.  Despite the knowing parody of capitalism, these Ferengi are alien in having a culture and ethos based on selfishness.  (It's the job of the "Nagus" to "negate 'us.'")
Alas, cultural cobblestones were paved by Hollywood P.C., as DS9's Ferengi became more courageous while accepting gender equality.  Admittedly, "Zek" might imply a cultural dead-end, thus the need for reform.
** The problem with a Ferengi conference is keeping the characters straight: P.C. or no, they all look alike. ** 

Move Along Home (OB 14 March 1993) score: 7

There goes my credibility.

chula!

I've always liked this widely-panned episode.  Yes, the riddles could've been more involved, but maybe they're softened for first-time players ("only children enter on the first shap").  Everything's relative: "Move Along Home" surpasses "Journey to Oasis," the 1981 episode of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, riddles dispensed by Felix Silla as a blue gnome.
 
Despite nods to cheesy sci-fi (Irwin Allen), there's meaning here: the crew are punished for disrespecting the Wadi during first contact.  The obvious offender is Quark, who cheats at dabo after refusing credit for alien artifacts (without even learning their uses).  Bashir lost his dress uniform; Sisko rejects "childish games," a key character moment aligning the commander with today's career officers.
Speaking of character, Quark's groveling seems unlike him, but may be histrionic: he's decided begging's his best move.
The names emphasize DS9's medieval quality.  Their imposing visitor is Falow (Joel Brooks), a homonym with "fallow."  "Wadi" may recall the Mahdi, the messiah figure of Islam.  The repeated "Allamaraine" evokes Allemagne, the French word for "Germany."  Indeed, the writers took inspiration from old European and Egyptian games (as well as Dungeons and Dragons, and Chutes and Ladders, thus the name of the game, "chula").
** Precluded by its poor reception, sequels to "Move Along Home" would've been preferable to DS9's overrated mirror-universe arc. **  The episode looks ahead to Star Trek: Voyager's fascination with nested narratives. **

   

The Passenger (OB 22 Feb. 1993) score: 5

DS9 S1: another day, another disappearing alien fugitive

In 1993, I wrote to Starlog (#195) arguing DS9 was not true to Gene Roddenberry's vision.  The series won me over, but I don't regret the letter, which reviews the first season, most of which remains dreary and disposable.  (And re-reading the letter ... there were some feelings to work through in accepting a post-Roddenberry series.)

Something only vaguely referenced in my long-ago rant is the young season's crutch plot: an alien fugitive uses an unusual power/characteristic to elude capture.  On The X-Files, Vantika (of "The Passenger") would've been a human mutation, or perhaps a demonic entity.  Compare also the Kyle MacLachlan-starring The Hidden (1987), which foregrounds action-comedy, not giving viewers a chance to think.

DS9, however, is harder sci-fi grounded in politics, and the Kobliad's tricks veer too close to sorcery.  The script compensates with technobabble, as viewer eyes glaze.
Otherwise "The Passenger" tracks well enough, and there are good Odo-Quark bits, as well as a straight-faced Julian telling Kira he amazes even himself.  The episode is well-cast, but makes little of the intersection of three security experts (Odo, Starfleet's Primmin, and the Kobliad agent, Kajada).

Nor is there much to say about Kajada being at once predator and prey.  As metaphoric conscious and unconscious, this could have distinguished a hide-in-plain-sight turn, after "A Man Alone," "Captive Pursuit" and "Dax."

** Siddig is terrible as alien-possessed Bashir, such that the director must share blame. **
** DS9 tended downward with Bashir in altered states: "Distant Voices" (S3), "Extreme Measures" (S7).**  

Dax (OB 14 Feb. 1993) score: 2

Anne Haney as Judge Renora

Sci-fi viewers understand the need for the occasional bottle show, but "Dax" is based in a writer's cheat.
Ilon Tandro tries to abduct, then extradite Jadzia Dax for the murder of Tandro's father, a general.  Most of the episode is a courtroom debate on whether Jadzia can be held responsible for the actions of Curzon Dax.

The problem: the Trill would've long ago codified such matters.  (The species may be new to viewers, not to the Star Trek universe.)
As Roger Ebert would say it's the idiot plot, dependent on characters being ignorant of what they should know.  The climax has Ilon Tandro remembering the Trill do consider new hosts responsible for past behavior (even a Starfleet judge would've heard this to start).  He's interrupted by his mother, who alibis Curzon, at the expense of the family reputation.  A pretty good line -- the accused "was in ... my bed." -- is wasted here.
Note the centenarian judge flashing a look at Enina Tandro (the widow), as if to say "thanks for showing up after wasting everyone's time."  The attentive viewer feels the same.