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. **