Star Trek is by and large, occasional episodes of whimsy aside, very serious science fiction.
Predicated on the laudably idealistic premise that humanity, some centuries hence, has finally got its collective sh*t together and ventured into the stars where it has associated with likeminded alien species in a bravely enduring endeavour known as the Federation, and always happy to explore a host of thorny issues from authoritarianism to the importance of the individual and the good of the many, it’s a franchise that has admirably kept a very straight face.
It takes its future idealism seriously, and as a result has been able to tell some incredibly challenging and intensely rewarding stories, something that has endeared it to a host of fans who also love its dedication to expansively deep and finely wrought characterisation and strong, taut storytelling.
You could be forgiven then for wondering how the first Star Trek animated series since 1970s’ Star Trek: The Animated Series, Star Trek: Lower Decks, and a comedically-inclined one at that, fits in when everyone else is taking things so very well deadly serious.
Perfectly well as it turns out; although the latest season, the third since the series launched in 2020 on what was then CBS All Access (now Paramount+), is perhaps the most seriously minded of them all, as apt to go hard and dark as it is to affectionately parody the hell out of the very franchise of which it is now a highly-valued part.
The more serious bent comes to the fore in several key episodes such as “The Stars at Night” which finishes off the season where there are real stakes in play and where some reasonably serious issues are examined such as the way in which AI is transforming Starfleet from an all-person affair to one where the ships are empty of life and full of autonomous algorithms that end up doing, as you might expect, some fairly dastardly things.
Rather than detracting from the inherent humour of Lower Decks, what this tilt to slightly more serious fare does is allow the show to tell some reasonably affecting storylines.
We’ve always cared for the characters onboard the USS Cerritos, a California Class starship that is charged with the less glamorous end of Starfleet proceedings such as second contact and supply missions, and there have been some genuinely touching moments in season 1 and season 2, which is testament to how well the series created by Mike McMahan has blended the serious and the cleverly silly.
But season 3 go more into the soberly adventuring side of things, and while we are still treated to sentient volcanoes and bird-like people that fall head over heels in love with evil sentient robots, we’re also given a more circumspect look at the way life in the 24th century.
It largely works, and imbues the show, which has always had an eye for well-told narratives, with a sense of real, muscular storytelling that comes with some actually emotional, real world stakes such as whether Starfleet will priorities machines over people and how that will impact the very essence of the service and if there is conspiracy at the heart of Starfleet to give the edge to possible AI usurpers.
It’s homage to Star Trek, you won’t be surprised to learn, continues unabated.
In fact, if anything, it ramps up, with one episode in particular, “Hear All, Trust Nothing” taking us on a photo-realistic trip to good old Deep Space Nine, arguably the franchise’s most serious and well-told series, which features, and this brings joy to the heart of any DS9 devotees such as yours truly, the voices of Kira Nerys (Nana Visitor), who now runs the station, and Quark (Armin Shimerman) who has turned his bar into a dubiously staged franchise throughout the Federation.
Much of the episode is a hallowed tribute to the series that deftly captures the characters and the look and feel of the station, but there are some moments of real silliness too such as when First Officer Jack Ransom (Jerry O’Connell) has some fun with the opening credits of the show, instructing navigation to go around the station’s pylons really, REALLY slowly .
It’s a joy to watch, and along with Quark being Quark, which was always inherently funny, and Kira reuniting with the starship’s Bajoran tactical fighter Shaxs (Fred Tatasciore) in a pissing contest to see who saved the other the most (and hence who owes who for what), makes this episode one of highly enjoyable, nostalgia-tinged storytelling and adroitly executed hilarity.
As is always the case, Lower Decks main focus is on its junior officers – Beckett Mariner (Tawny Newsome), Brad Boimler (Jack Quaid), D’Vana Tendi (Noël Wells) and Sam Rutherford (Eugene Cordero) – all of whom are trying to come to grips with their place in the Starfleet food chain in their own unique ways.
Boimler remains intent on climbing the ladder, and failing much of the time, not because he’s not competent but because he tries too hard (in episode two, “The Least Dangerous Game” he tries to shake off his cringing earnestness with hilarious and sweetly meaningful results) while Mariner, still the rebel but not as pronouncedly so, realises that maybe she does have a place in Starfleet, after all, something that greatly relieves her mother, and the ships’ captain, Carol Freeman (Dawnn Lewis).
Meanwhile, fellow Delta shifters and the sweetest twosome to ever grace Star Trek‘s spacefaring halls – surely romantic love must be theirs one day; I am shipping this couple very hard right now), Tendi, who’s on track for a senior science officer position, and Rutherford, who finds out why he has a cyborg implant, are enthusiastically going for broke to make the most of their time in the service.
These four characters are the below-Bridge heart of the show, a beguiling mix of likeably lovable and loopily silly who take their careers very seriously even if they find themselves again and again in some comedically out there situations, such as in episode four, “Room For Growth” when they find themselves competes for better lodgings on a higher deck with another, far more cutthroat shift.
The only misstep really is episode one, “Grounded” which fixes an existential threat to the captain and thus the Cerritos with less than satisfying haste, but its survivable because the show as a whole is so strong, its many hilariously arch observations of the strange inconsistences of the franchise overall sitting neatly with first-rate storytelling, superbly rendered characterisation and and innate sense of Star Trek-ness which takes the serious stuff seriously, the silly stuff with a very big tongue-in-cheek, allowing the show plenty of room to mix it all winningly together in a highly engaging and wonderfully amusing middle.