Totally Cool Stargate Episodes

I should qualify this by saying I've only seen two episodes from the second season, almost all of the third-season episodes, and a good chunk of the fourth.  (It could be all of the fourth, but those doing my taping for me don't take the same diligent approach to this show that I do.)  So these are the totally cool episodes that I've actually seen.  I'm sure there are others.  In order of coolness:

“Tangent”

What I like best about this episode, which has many things to recommend it, is the reminder that sometimes the most dire of consequences can happen close to home.  Think about it:  every week these people gate to planets thousands of light years away, but they can't be rescued within the confines of our own solar system.

Starting with a little (possibly unintentional) nod to M*A*S*H ("Colonel." "General."  "Major."  "General."  "Doctor."  "General."), to Jacob's gentle remarks that mask a much larger concern at the end, humor brackets a script that tenders drama, suspense and even science.  I was very impressed by the communication delay caused by the distance.  I liked the scenes back in the gate room, with people trying their very best to effect a rescue that they are almost powerless to conduct.  Carmen Argenziano and Jacob Carter are at their very finest here, and the dynamics between Sam and her dad sparkle.  Writer Michael Cassutt shows rather than tells us of Jacob Carter's high concern for his daughter and her friends when he drops what he's doing to go to the rescue (though we can imagine the Tok'ra chewed his ass for it when he got home).

The pacing of Peter DeLuise's direction is quite deft, particularly when one considers that all of the "action" consists of people sitting and waiting: in the gate room, in a rescue craft, in a crippled death glider. The use of time is nicely understated as well, with the passing of the hours noted at the end of each transmission.  Even Joel Goldsmith's score is superbly suited to the story.

“Nemesis”

It's hard to argue with a good orange fireball. This one was part of Universal Studios' Waterworld action show, and was designed by my friend Kristin. What a cool job to have, huh?

At the other extreme, an episode that's all about action.  This one gets big points for its use of weaponry.  Richard Dean Anderson probably didn't have much trouble with his lines this week:  "Carter!"  But it worked.  Mostly because there were lots of bugs [a small quibble:  I would have called them spiders] coming his way, and what else would there be for anyone to say?

I was kind of afraid we would be subjected to O'Neill giving Teal'c mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but a small shake turns out to be just as effective.  It's a little flaw in an episode that plays on our base fears (who isn't terrified of the thought of being overrun by insects/arachnids?) and comes up swinging in a totally macho way.  There's even a screaming orange fireball!

“Window of Opportunity”

A solid, all-around episode that turns on its humor but manages to power slide into a serious ending without grinding the gears.  Time loops are always risky because of the necessity of repetition, but if you get them right they can be quite effective (or "Cause and Effect"ive, if we were to be talking about ST: Next Gen).  The subtleties make this episode worth coming back to: Fruit Loops in a story about time loops; who knew Joseph Mallozzi was an expert in Latin?; I wish I could figure out the second trick Jack does while juggling . . . . The best moments go to Michael Shanks, when he echoes, "Maybe he read your report?" and later when he wordlessly turns the picture Jack's holding.

The success of this episode, however, lies with its ending.  It would be almost too difficult to buy Malakai's (why not Malachi?) obsession with his wife, dead for 12 years, were it not for a controlled emotional outburst by the tormented Jack O'Neill, who says just enough without saying too much. What an awful thing, to lose a child, and obviously something he must deal with every day.  "I could never live that over again," he says, with convincing sincerity.

It's a nice outing that gives the actors a chance to try some different things without wandering away from the series' basic premise.

“The Devil You Know"

The lead-up episode ("Jolinar's Memories") is so-so, but this one scores pretty well, despite the lamentable return of Apophis, and the even more lamentable loss of Sokar.  In fact, this one succeeds best when our heroes are under the influence of a hallucinogen named for Sokar's blood.  What's interesting are the moments writer Robert C. Cooper picked as pivotal in each character's life.  For Sam, it's a conversation with her dad after the death of her mother, and she's such a scientist that she stops to question her motives even in the middle of a hallucination.

While we saw all sorts of possible scenarios following Share's death in "Forever in a Day," Daniel's memory in this episode lets us see something that actually took place in the wake of his wife's demise, which really got skimmed over once "Day" was in the can.

But most haunting is Jack's encounter with his son, two weeks before the boy's death.  Obviously this is the moment Jack considers to have been responsible for his son's loss, and it's so awful that even under the force of memory technology and the Blood of Sokar, he tries to change what happened.  I like the way this scene and the subsequent one, back in the pit of Hell, are handled by Richard Dean Anderson -- a controlled, painful response to an emotional maelstrom. 

Apophis comes off looking weak and idiotic in this episode, offering to trade information that he fails to get out of four different people. However, his escape from Sokar's clutches is pretty nifty, utilizing both the galaxy's most wicked-looking hold-out and weapons fire.  And, of course, it's hard to quibble with an episode that ends with a magnificent orange fireball.

“Crystal Skull”

A genuine holy artifact from Devil's Tower in Wyoming, a gift from the Heretic Queen. It's a crystal skull that lights up, which makes it way cooler than the one on Stargate.

This one's on here for two reasons: Jan Rubes, and one short line near the beginning that's just one of those small moments of perfection in humor. Carter, engrossed in the scientific oddity she's witnessing, tells O'Neill a million billion neutrinos have just passed through him.  "No matter how dense?" he questions sardonically, quietly, and no one around him reacts.  It's a very sublime moment, because it's so small.*

Isn't Jan Rubes perfect as Nick Ballard? He gives a nicely understated delivery throughout.  With hindsight, you can tell he knows Daniel has arrived in the room at the psychiatric hospital and that he is responding to Daniel's entreaties, but on the first viewing, none of that is obvious. Rubes and Michael Shanks play off each other very well, and their interplay at the side of the giant aliens (Jack's right: that does have a nice ring) strengthens what could have been a terribly weak ending.

* In “Small Victories,” Carter, usually the straightwoman, gets one of these moments herself after Thor tells her the Asgard don't keep chunks of the Replicators around because of the potential danger.  "Of course not. That would be stupid," she replies.  Then, thinking of what she left on her desk, she wants to know, "Could say, oh, I don't know -- two blocks make a Replicator?"  When Thor assures her they can't, she says, "That's good to know."

“The First Ones”

If you look below, you'll see that my chief complaint with Stargate comes whenever Jack O'Neill starts making life-or-death decisions on a planetary scale.  This episode is the complete antithesis of that.  It's Daniel Jackson, mano-a-uno with a primitive Unas.  Two beings at cross-purposes, from two decidedly different cultures, make a "first contact" that never oversteps the bounds of plausibility.

Unas (Uni?) are spectacularly striking creatures, and Dion Johnstone makes this one an alien being indeed with a lot of subtle movements and postures. Daniel Jackson takes a particularly anthropological approach to this Unas, giving us a close-up look without becoming overly chummy or effusively communicative.

There's some nice camerawork in this episode as well, by Peter Woeste, but the main credit has to go to writer-director Peter DeLuise, who tried something different and came up a winner.

“Prodigy”

This one doesn't really belong on this list, but the New One True Space Babe has a major (har!) role in this episode, so how can it not be totally cool?  Bonus: we get to see her legs, briefly, before we zip back to the typical overabundance of individual faces (from the forehead down) filling the frame.

I've always been a sap for directional light, willing to stop whatever chore happened to be in progress in order to capture the moment on film. Even if that chore was something really fun like shoveling off the roof.

“Point of View”

Twice as much Samantha Carter!  How could you miss?  Jack's right, though: how 'bout that hair?

Actually, alternate reality shows give me a headache if I think about them too much.  If you turn right instead of left down the hall, is another reality created?  And do other realities splinter off the subsequent realities too?  Infinity is a darn big number, when you think about it.

All the characters get some quality camera time in this one, including General Hammond and the long-gone Kowalsky (much better than X-Files appearances for both actors).  Watching Daniel try to find the "right" reality is kind of fun, and Teal'c's willingness to blast his other self because this reality doesn't matter to him is a telling point.  And, of course, two Carters.  But the one I really like watching in this episode is Richard Dean Anderson, who takes Jack through an impressive array of emotions as he tries to figure out his relationship with this new Carter -- and even the familiar Carter.  The squint of discomfort after he sees the picture in Dr. Carter's quarters is worth the price of admission right there.

“A Hundred Days”

I like this one for its technical aspects.  Peter Woeste's camerawork is impressive, especially one of the few mise-en-scene (just to show you I was paying attention in all those film classes) shots utilized by this cut-happy reaction-shot sort of show:  Jack and Laira walk out of camera range, the camera pans across the body of water and there is Jack, three months later, happily paddling away in his canoe.  The lighting is spectacular in this show too, but then I'm a sap for directional light.

“Point of No Return”

It was not until my third viewing that I decided this episode belonged on this list, and the deciding factor was once again the camerawork. I apologize: I don't know if it's Peter Woeste's or Jim Menard's work, but either way, this episode opens with a completely fabulous tracking shot that starts under a glass table and circulates through the briefing room. It's one heck of a start. This episode has several moments of high humor as well, everything from O'Neill's initial meeting with Marty to the introduction of "Murray"; and I've already heard one remark about my work space looking very similar to Marty's house. Special bonus: it comes complete with a duck joke.

Episodes That Suck  

Stargate (the movie)

Actually, I remember very little about this movie, and I know it's not an episode, but it is where it all started.  So perhaps I should be grateful this film got made, but all I can remember is that a friend and I walked out at the end convinced we had wasted both our money and our time.  And this was back in the days when I stayed awake through movies.  The fact that it was an awful movie is directly responsible for me missing all of the first season and almost all of the second.  What would be the point of watching a series based on a bad movie?  Which goes to show, of course, that even I can be wrong.  On the extremely rare occasion.

“Learning Curve”

One of the first episodes I watched once I decided to start paying attention, and I'm surprised I came back for the next week.  God, this irritated me!  Who, just who, exactly, is Jack O'Neill to judge an entire culture after less than a day's observation?  And, even if he found the treatment of Orban's children completely odious, it is not up to him to radically (and successfully, imagine that) change their society by abducting one child.  I still get so irritated that I find it difficult to be rational about this episode, which oozes irrationality and implausibility. Succinctly put, it really sucks.

“Beneath the Surface”

And, since  "Learning Curve" failed to be one for writer Heather Ash, she was given the go-ahead to repeat this inane and asinine idea that it's up to Jack O'Neill to set the galaxy aright with this fourth-season episode. Now, it doesn't help that the first time I saw this was the same week I watched a very similar episode on Voyager: crew members are abducted by cultures that need workers for Orwellian plants; their minds are wiped, but imperfectly, allowing them to try to find their way back to where they belong, with some assistance from sympathetic individuals within the society.  As Voyager episodes go, it wasn't bad, but Stargate on a bad day should still be able to beat Voyager on its best day.

This episode would not be on this list were it not for O'Neill-as-Stephen-Biko, exorting the workers from his lofty perch above them to go out and find better lives for themselves.  He can't totally disrupt a society just because he disagrees with it!  Actually, whether he wanted to or not, whether he was right or not, humankind just doesn't work this way.  No one exacts a dramatic societal change with one flare and a pretty, three-minute speech -- and no one should ask intelligent viewers to buy this kind of drivel.

“The Other Side”

Those Canadians! They put Star Trek action stamps in their cereal -- totally cool! And then they give their cereal fun names like Shreddies. Even the box is completely fun.

Odo as the ultimate example of the master race?  We can do better than this, and Brad Wright should be deeply ashamed for ever allowing this entry to get as far as the read-through.  Everything is wrong with this episode, plotwise:  the blind rush to befriend the Eurondans without learning the nature of their war or the reasons behind it; Jack's later arbitrary determination that these are the bad guys in this war without ever once meeting someone from "the other side"; and especially his decision to hoist this particular petard.  Who is Jack O'Neill to decide who should live or die on this world?  He could try trade embargoes or sanctions to force Alar's people to see what the U.S military perceives as right, but if nuns can be found guilty in international court for their actions in Rwanda, O'Neill should be court-martialed for bringing about what really amounts to genocide -- and then executed as summarily as he dispatched an entire people's way of life. 

I didn't like Daniel Jackson in this one at all, either.  I know people make bad judgments, but he was so vociferously emphatic about giving the Eurondans whatever they wanted, and then so obnoxiously opposed to it a few short scenes later   . . . it was completely annoying.  But then, so was the entire episode.

“Absolute Power”

Episodes that turn out to be dreams should be banned on any show, even if that is how we ended up with Mork & Mindy.  Oh, I guess that kind of proves my point, hm?  The only time it worked, ever, was the finale of Newhart, a show that -- much like Mork & Mindy -- featured Tom Poston.

I feel I should also point out that Sokar was a better villain than Apophis, so it was a darn shame to kill him off; that the running sequences on that bridge in "Crystal Skull" looked awful; and that "Scorched Earth" nearly ended up on this list for the same reason cited repeatedly above, that Jack O'Neill becomes solely responsible for deciding who lives and who dies on a planetary scale.  But Daniel Jackson makes some salient arguments (antithesis to Jack's onerous thesis), and the synthesis is a pretty nifty solution.  Plus, it's an intriguing idea: two incompatible species need the same space to survive.

My Qualifications to Pass Judgments Such As Those Above  

1) I can spell "judgment" correctly.

2) My entire youth was misspent in front of the TV set.  I once chose to watch Daniel Boone (no actor in the world is cooler than Fess Parker) rather than supervise as the neighbor's cat birthed kittens.  Not a proud moment, in retrospect, but there it is.

3)  I got A LOT of college credit for watching movies.  And other credit for critical reviews, and still more credit for stagecraft.  My entire college effort turns out to have been geared toward a career as a TV critic, much like my childhood hero Clark Secrest of the Denver Post.  I just haven't gotten around to it yet.

My friend Emerson brought this banner into work one day. I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen at the newspaper, but the general manager didn't agree, and it got torn down as soon as he saw it. Why bother to go through life if you don't have a sense of humor?

4)  I spent a decade as the drama critic for the estimable Gunnison Country Times.  Oh, and as the sports editor, school reporter, social columnist and In Charge of Getting the Cookie Crumbs Out of Wenona's IBM Selectric.

5)  I am apparently the only American watching Stargate SG-1.  (Okay, I know that's not true.  There are now three of us in Gunnison alone.)

6) I made a brief (so it was very brief) appearance in an episode of Mork & Mindy after my friend Jeff and I nearly changed history by running over Robin Williams, Pam Dawber and Gerry Marshall while turning a corner near the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. (They all escaped unscathed, as did Jeff's VW Bug, which, come to think of it, might not have inflicted too much damage on three full-grown people.) 

Other extensive film credits: Snow Beast, the exceptional made-for-TV monster movie (second or third trombone in the band during the memorable winter ball/panic scene); and my mom's ski clothes and neighbors from the houses on both sides of us were in Disney's Snowball Express. My mom was on hand when a friend sold a stereo set to Robert Logan (hark back to the Wilderness Family movies and you'll remember him), and I had two writing classes at CU with Jamie Redford, son of Robert.  I was supposed to have an acting class with Jamie's sister Shauna, but she dropped it.  I should have, but I wanted to take directing, and the prerequisite was two semesters of acting.  I never made it to the second semester of acting, so my directorial talents have been lost to the world.  However, I got many compliments for looking suitably emaciated while loading rocks onstage as a Nazi POW during the intermission of Bent.

I have handled luggage for Gary Morris, onetime star of Les Miserables on Broadway, but flying in to Gunnison for Country in the Rockies.  So I don't know if that counts as an acting or a music credit for me.  Either way, I'm sure it's quite impressive.