Gentle reader, I failed you.
Despite all the negative hype from trusted reviewers like The Critical Drinker, or the crews at Film Threat and Nerdrotic, I decided I'd man up and watch at least the first two episodes of Starfleet Academy, now streaming on Paramount+.
Yes, the trailers and previews were groan-inducing. But at least it has Holly Hunter as the Academy's chancellor, Captain Nahla Ake, and Paul Giamatti as the show's villainous foil — could it be that bad, really, with those two signed on?
I wanted to believe, I really did. There's a great show somewhere inside Starfleet Academy, even though it's nowhere near Starfleet Academy.
I failed to finish even the first episode. Yes, it could be that bad, really.
The premise comes from the highly stupid Star Trek: Discovery, where an event called "the Burn" made warp-speed spaceflight impossible for a very long time, ending the Federation of Planets. Flash-forward more than a century to the Burn's dissipation, when Starfleet and the Federation have a chance to become great again. MFGA?
Anyway, the call goes out to the best-of-the-best from across 3,000 worlds to compete at the galaxy's most demanding military academy for the precious few command slots in a struggling new Starfleet as the Federation attempts to resurrect itself from the ashes of the Burn.
Now that's a show I'd watch. Sadly, it's not the show Paramount made.
Instead, Paramount made a 2012-era CW show about pretty young college students with interpersonal issues. But here's the modern twist: they're all gay or autistic or something. The only Klingon on the show, Karim Diané as Jay-Den Kraag, is the sensitive son of a single mom.
I swear I didn't make that up.
THEY NAMED THE KLINGON "JAYDEN."
Somewhere, Worf sheds a silent and very warrior-like tear.
Another cadet is named Genesis Lythe — I swear I didn't make that one up, either — and as the daughter of an admiral, she's considered "Starfleet royalty." There's a scene in a preview of a later episode where she practically shrieks, "I need to be a captain!" in such a way that you wouldn't give her command of a commode, much less a starship.
There's another cadet named Parsec "Pez" O'Flanagan, who dispenses reverse tachyon particles from the opening in his throat. Also, he's gay.
Okay, that one I did make up.
Courtesy of Film Threat's Alan Ng, I got a preview of episode two of the high standards Captain Ake demands from her cadets. "Make your bed," she insists. "Show up on time."
Yeah, Paramount might as well call it Participation Trophy Academy.
I attended high school at Missouri Military Academy, which was just Junior ROTC. They weren't grooming us for actual military service, just providing discipline to teenage guys like me who needed it, while also prepping us for college. Nevertheless, MMA's cadet motto — "Look like a soldier, act like a gentleman" — was more demanding than freakin' Starfleet Academy's.
Not that I'm resentful or anything. It's just that if I'd known I could get a Starfleet command out of it, maybe I'd have done a better job with the hospital corners on my bed at MMA.
Here's where I make a bold prediction where no critic has gone before: there will be no washouts at this Academy.
"Look at the cadet on your left. Look at the cadet on your right. Everybody gets a starship!"
But who knows — maybe Starfleet Academy will find an audience. But enough of an audience to justify spending $10 million an episode?
If I had to describe Starfleet Academy to my GenZ sons, I'd tell them, "This is not your father's Star Trek. This is Jayden Has Two Dads' Star Trek."
Here's where I would have wrapped up this not-quite-a-review by concluding, "In other words, it isn't Star Trek."
Except that I'm afraid it is.
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