Guest Stars:
Garman Hertzler as
Laas
John Eric Bentley as
Klingon
Joel Goodness as
Deputy
Odo and O'Brien encounter a Changeling who Odo recognises to be one of "The Hundred" Changelings that had been sent out as infants to explore the galaxy. After it has been proven that this Changeling, Laas, is in no way affiliated with the Founders, Odo gets to know him and immediately learns that Laas is very wary of humanoids. In his "youth" Laas lived among humanoids for a time but was never truly accepted by them and is bitter and distrustful of all solids. This is nowhere more evident when Odo introduces Laas to his friends and is embarrassed by his belligerance. Laas claims that Odo is limiting himself by pretending to be a humanoid when he is a Changeling and capable of so much more. He asks Odo to join him in a search across the galaxy for other of their kind, existing as they were meant to -- as Changelings. The offer is very tempting, but Odo declines -- he's in love with Kira and his place is with her. He asks that Laas stay on the station a while longer and Laas does so, but it's not long before tragedy strikes.
"Relaxing" on the Promenade as fog, Laas angers two irate Klingons who try to stab him with a knife. Laas retaliates and kills one of the Klingons. The Klingons demand that Laas be extradited which enrages Odo who knows that they are only doing this because Laas is a Changeling. Laas forces Odo to concede that he was right about humanoids, they are intolerant, they fear anything different to themselves and fear can quickly turn to hatred. Odo starts to question everything he believed in -- who he is, what he is and where he belongs. He admits to Kira that a part of him yearns to be out with Laas exploring the galaxy. He concedes that Laas was certainly right about one thing: he's been denying his true nature in order to fit in with those around him. Kira releases Laas from the holding cell and tells him to wait for Odo at an abandoned mine nearby. She tells Sisko that Laas forcibly escaped from the cell, but Odo soon learns what really happens and he leaves to meet Laas. He tells Laas that he cannot go with him. It is difficult for Laas to understand, because he has never known love, but Kira's act of sacrifice ought to demonstrate to him that humanoids are not the vindictive, limited creatures that he believes them to be. Laas warns Odo that love is only a pale shadow compared to the Link, but it is enough for Odo.
He returns to Kira, who is surprised to see him again. She apologises if she ever made him feel that he couldn't be himself with her, assuring him that she loves him for who he is and wants to get to know the "real" him. Odo holds Kira's hand and, assuming his true form, surrounds and bathes her in a shimmering cloud of golden light.
Review:
Wow.
I have absolutely no hesitation in saying that Chimera is a masterpiece. I simply loved it. Yet I've been putting off writing this review for weeks now. What gives? I guess I actually find it easier to review a bad or mediocre episode than I do a very good one. Take The Emperor's New Cloak, for instance. I had great fun taking a slightly more sarcastic tone than usual, exposing the numerous plot holes and generally being a little cheeky at the episode's expense. On the other hand, when it comes to a near-flawless gem like Chimera, if anything I'm afraid that no matter what I write I'm not going to do it justice. The various themes, questions and human issues tackled by Chimera are as stupendous as they are profound and compelling...and frankly I don't know where to begin. So do bear with me as I attempt to grab the bull by its proverbial horns and see what I can come up with.
Television is a funny old thing. As I wade through the pages of my Radio Times (the UK version of "TV Guide" if you're wondering), I can't honestly say there's not a lot that jumps off the pages. If I didn't know better -- and I'm not sure I do -- I'd say the TV executives have generally forgotten the tenets of making good programs. In the hands of the big bosses, television is not about art, it's about profit. I doubt many of them care about quality as much as they care about popularity in the ratings stakes. And as we all know, popularity does not necessarily equal quality. Mind you, amid the dross there are a few genuinely good shows. What you and I look for in a television show could be different things entirely, but if something is entertaining enough to keep me engaged from start to finish, then I guess I'm satisfied. I don't really mind what it is, so long as I don't have the urge to reach for the remote. That's the basic aim of television -- to keep people entertained. It's very rare that anything I watch on the TV captures me so entirely that I can say it transcends it's goal of being mere entertainment. There are occasions, but they are rare.
Chimera is one such occasion.
As a story it is first-rate. But it's more that. In terms of characterisation and acting it is outstanding. But it's more than that, as well. It's far more than just forty-five minutes of televised schedule-filler. Chimera is a parable of love, life, identity and belonging. It's a thoughtful and enlightening look at certain aspects of the human condition and I would be very surprised indeed if one person were to stand up and honestly tell me that there weren't elements that didn't speak to them or touch them in some way.
It's ironic, really, that this episode's three central characters are meant to be alien, for it's one of the most human stories I've seen in a good while. Why is it that a science-fiction series predominantly featuring "alien" characters is able to get straight to the heart of the human condition in a way that so many dramas, so many soap operas -- which supposedly feature "us", after all -- fail to do? I guess it's as Avery Brooks once said, at its best science-fiction enables us to "meditate out loud about the world" and the human condition in a way that contemporary drama doesn't often allow. The saying about not being able to "see the forest for the trees" comes to mind and that, I guess, might explain it. In order to get a panoramic view of life, love or humanity you must first take several steps back before you can get a clear picture. At any rate, Chimera is a prime example of this and it's a thoroughly compelling one at that.
Things kick off with the arrival of Laas, one of the hundred Changelings that were sent out as infants to explore the galaxy; and of which Odo is one. Laas is a fascinating character, for a number of reasons. For a start, it was a very interesting decision on the part of the writers to cast the character as male. Had they taken the predictable route and made Laas female, he would have been more of a direct, obvious threat to Kira. Casting Laas as a male made the relationship far more ambiguous, opaque and intriguing. Given that "linking" has often been depicted as a quasi-sexual experience, there are almost homosexual undertones to the story. It's not an aspect I've given much thought to, but I found it re-enforced the episode's underlying theme that hey, Changelings are different to us and such difference is to be embraced.
Laas is clearly, if not older than Odo, then certainly the more experienced of the two. Many years ago, Laas lived among humanoids -- like Odo he was discovered by them -- but his experience was not a pleasant one and Laas was left embittered and very distrustful of humanoids. He claims he was never really accepted by them. He was, after all, vastly different and, in his view, "humanoids are not very tolerant of difference". Odo reassures him that these humanoids are different, for many different species live together peacefully -- humans, Bajorans, Klingons, Ferengi. Laas's response is very interesting. He points out that despite the odd wrinkled nose or ridged forehead, humanoids are basically alike: but "you and I are nothing like them".
It's very rare that the writers point out (or perhaps even remember) that Odo is any different from Kira or Sisko or any of the others. Case point -- in the previous episode, Field of Fire, Odo wore protective goggles the same as Ezri. The thing is, his eyes aren't real, they are just an approximation, so why would he need goggles? There are numerous other examples which might easily slip you by until you stop to think "hey, Odo's not a humanoid, he's a Changeling"! Here we learn that it's not only the writers that often forget that Odo is actually different -- it's Odo as well.
I thought this was fascinating. Over the past seven years, the DS9 characters have gone from being a bunch of mis-matched oddballs with a tendency to be at each others' throats, to something resembling a family. If you want an idea of just how far they've come, look no further than O'Brien and Bashir who at first couldn't stand each other, but are now best friends. The whole lot of them have integrated together and that includes Odo. Odo used to be an isolated, alienated, tragic character, the perennial outsider, but over the years has become an integral part of the DS9 team. He's been accepted, he has friends and he even has won the heart of Kira Nerys. I've greatly enjoyed watching these people grow together and come to care about each other. They're all very different people, of different races, with different agendas, ideals and beliefs and yet they have come together as a family. I can't think of anything more Trekkian than that.
Clearly from our perspective this is a good thing indeed. But the character of Laas is brought in to offer a different perspective, one that forces Odo to question the very foundation of his life on DS9. Is he denying his true nature, pretending to be something that he is not, in order to fit in? This question opens a veritable can of worms. Is it right to pretend to be something you're not in exchange for other people's acceptance?
This is the question at the core of the episode and it's one that I've given quite a bit of thought to over the years. As good Will Shakespeare says, there is no higher virtue than "to thine own self be true". The thing is, that's actually a lot harder in practise than in theory. Laas has a sadly relevant point when he says that humanoids are not very tolerant of difference. Quark claims that this is a genetic defence and that, in interest of self-preservation, "our tolerance of other life forms doesn't extend beyond the two-armed, two-legged variety". And often not even that far, I mused grimly. Something I've never understood is why people must persecute not just anything and everything in their way, but also each other. It's a sobering thought that the vast majority of suffering in the world is caused by people inflicting it upon other people.
And for what? That someone has a different colour of skin, different religious beliefs or a different sexual preference does not make them any less a human being. This form of prejudice and repression exists not only on a large scale but also in far subtler forms in everyday society. It's almost as though society has a blueprint for what makes the perfect, or at least socially acceptable, human being. This suggests that we really all ought to be the same, that we all ought to conform to these non-existent guidelines which dictate what we ought to look like, think like and act like. Anything that lies outwith this is almost seen as a threat. It's as if anyone that defies this "blueprint" is a danger to society and must be repressed and cut down.
It's little wonder that most people try to conform to this invisible "ideal" of what it is to be an acceptable person in society. You only have to look at young children to see that from a very early age there is a great need to be accepted by others. And so kids have to dress the right way, watch the right TV programs and listen to the right music in order to "fit in". Here's an example. The other week I bought a car sticker which had a Native American Indian slogan. I was about to put the sticker up when my teenage sister stopped me, saying "you can't put that up! I'll get teased by my friends". I was somewhat surprised because I knew that she had an interest in Native American culture as well. "I know," she responded. "But I can't be seen to be interested in it." This started an interesting conversation where she admitted that she'd rather act in a way that made people like her than act in a way that was true to herself. I don't believe this is an isolated issue, either -- in fact, I think it's the norm. And that's kind of sad. It's sad that we don't live in a society with the freedom to be who were are and to feel able to express this.
So, Odo's situation is very easy to relate to. He's different and at first he felt alienated and alone because of it, but after being accepted by others he now views himself as one of them. From our perspective that's good. But what Laas tries to make him realise is that he's been accepted only because he pretends to be like them. "They tolerate you, Odo, because you emulate them," Laas tells him. "What higher flattery is there -- I who can be anything choose to be like you?" In essence, he's living a lie in order to fit in. At first Odo doesn't want to hear this. After all, because Laas's experience with humanoids did not work out does not mean the same will hold true for Odo. It's not until tragedy strikes aboard the station that Laas has his point illustrated for him.
Yup, I'm talking about the incident with the Klingons. Laas is "relaxing" in the Promenade as fog (Bashir: "What's he doing?" Odo: "Being fog. What does it look like?") when two Klingons become enraged that Laas had the nerve to change form in their presence. I suppose that it was understandable that they would harbour hostility toward a Changeling given that the Founders are waging a bloody war against the Federation (although the guy that played the first Klingon was horribly OTT <cringe>). Some insults result in a knife fight which leaves one of the Klingons dead. The Klingons demand that Laas be extradited in order to stand trial for murder. Odo is baffled that the Klingons would resort to legal quibbles which isn't exactly considered the Klingon way -- and, after all, Laas acted out of self-defence. He realises that the only reason they want Laas is not so much because of what he did, but because he is a Changeling.
Odo cannot believe that Sisko is willing to stand by and let Laas be punished for a crime he didn't commit. The conversation in Sisko's office is cleverly constructed and nicely played by both Rene Auberjonois and Avery Brooks as it probes the grey issue of intrinsic racism. Now, I'm not saying that Sisko was acting out of racial prejudice, after all, given the circumstances it's only natural he would be rather suspicious of another Changeling. But his refusal to intervene in the situation is perceived by Odo as racial discrimination. It's not a clear-cut situation by any means. Sisko tells Odo that, at Martok's request, he is not to be left on charge of the prisoner. When Odo asks why he is told that it is because he was a witness to the alleged crime. Odo's memorable response: "That's a relief...for a moment I thought you were going to say it's because I'm a Changeling." Ouch. That packed a considerable wallop. It also saw something of a turning point for Odo as he began to realise that what Laas had told him may be much closer to home after all. It's a bitter irony that the very humanoids that Odo tried to defend end up proving Laas's point for him.
It's this turn of events that pulls the rug from under Odo's feet and forces him to question some of his deepest held convictions. I've already discussed the pressure society imposes on people to conform and thus "fit in", but aside from having to face alienation I think there's another reason everyone strives to fit in. Quite simply, we all need to belong. This need for belonging is one of our deepest instincts and it's a combination of the need to fulfil this craving and the fear of alienation that so often leads us to compromise our true identity. This is a theme that the writers have done a great job of exploring via Odo. We've seen how deep is his inate desire to be with his people and it should be reasonably easy for most of us to understand it. After all, would you rather live amongst a colony of, say giant ants, or with fellow humans? It was back in the third season that Odo discovered his people were the Founders and it was then that he took a stand, refusing to accept them on the basis of what they have done. Over the years we've seen Odo having to deal with his self-imposed exile -- and it ain't been easy. But that's what's always made the character such a wonderfully tragic hero. He had the strength of character to stick by his principles and his own conscience rather than conveniently ignoring that in order to be with his own kind.
Laas, having linked with Odo, realises that this is not the sole -- nor even the primary -- reason that Odo refused to return to the Link. On one hand he was following his own conscience, being true to himself, but even stronger than his conscience was his heart. As we all know, Odo's been in love with Kira for years and it was hinted as far back as Heart of Stone that perhaps Kira was the main reason that Odo couldn't leave DS9. Laas confirms this -- if it weren't for Kira, Odo would be with his people. Having discussed some of the philosophical underpinnings of the episode, this leads us to the real heart of the episode: the love story. Even without the Odo/Kira aspect, this would have still been a fascinating episode, but it is this that provides the real emotional resonance and I was quite astounded as to just how moving, tender and sincere it was too! Indeed, it very nearly makes up for all those horrible "romance-of-the-week" episodes that Trek has churned out over the years! :-)
Ever since Odo and Kira got together a year ago, I've been a little disappointed that the writers haven't chosen to explore their relationship in any great depth. Oh, we've certainly seen them together often enough acting like the cutesiest of cutesy couples. But, despite the odd glimmer of depth (as in The Reckoning and Treachery, Faith and the Great River) it might have been tempting to say that their relationship was more interesting before they got together. Chimera, however, more than makes up for this and provides what is essentially a wonderful, superb pay-off to compelling relationship that has spanned the entire length of the series. When you look back, it feels like it has been building up to this for years and any lingering doubts I may have had about Odo and Kira as a couple are now officially kaput. This is easily the best love story I've ever seen told on Trek and perhaps even television itself. That's a very bold, sweeping statement but I'm willing to stand by that assertion.
There are love stories and then there are love stories. There are so many different types of love that it seems crazy to have just one word to define the lot of them. Let's see, take Chrysalis earlier this season, for example. It was a "love story", but as I said in my review of that episode, I never felt that true love came into it. It was more a story about loneliness and reaching out to someone else in the hope that they can provide whatever it is that's missing in your life. That's hardly what I'd call "love". I think we all knew that Bashir didn't really "love" Serena nor vice versa. And, as I also said in that review, "love" is something that is often used as a means to control and manipulate people. I believe the word for that is "conditional love", ie. "I'll love you if you do this, play this role and be what I want you to be". It's a sad, sad truth that this type of "love" is not uncommon and I'm sure everyone will have seen instances of it in their lives and perhaps if you're honest with yourself, you may even have been in such a relationship yourself. To me, it isn't love. Neither is lust or mere attraction.
Let's get back to the aforementioned Trek "romance" stories, in which a member of the crew "falls in love" with some guest character (and you can bet your bottom dollar that they will be torn apart by the time the end credits roll!). I'd argue that you can't classify romance as true love, either. The very word "romantic" implies seeing a thing with a rose-coloured tint, a glamourisation, a distortion of what actually is. It's easy to fall in love with an idea, such as the idea of say, a "knight in shining armour". But life doesn't actually work like that and if you cast someone in a romanticised, fantasy role then instead of being in love with the person as they are, you're in love with merely your own preconceived, fabricated idea. I don't see how that can be love. How many of us aren't looking for our "ideal man or woman" and how many of us haven't built an idea of what they should look like, what they should act like, what they should think like? When a person does eventually come along we try to mould them into this role and then we convince ourselves that we love them. Somehow, at least to me, that just doesn't add up.
How does this apply to Chimera, you might be wondering. I'm just getting to that. Laas makes Odo realise that he's been pretending to be something, or someone, he's not. Odo doesn't know where he belongs. Part of him yearns to go off with Laas on a voyage of self-exploration. Laas offers him the perfect alternative to the Founders and given that the Founders are evidently dying of a disease, it would give them a chance to find the other ninety-eight Changelings and form a new Link. But then there's Kira. He loves her, and she loves him. But who is he, any rate? Did Kira fall in love with the person he was pretending to be? We saw in His Way that Odo won over Kira by taking lessons from Vic in being cool and suave. Was that really Odo? Of course not. He was adjusting himself, stepping into a role other than his own in order to win Kira's love. Remember in Time's Orphan the look on Odo's face when Kira mentions that some day she'd love to have children. Odo is unable to have children with Kira...because he's different. Interestingly, it's the issue of children that tore Laas apart from his relationship with a humanoid. His relationship ended because they were different. Is it any wonder that Odo has felt the need to pretend that he's something he's not? This comes, of course, as a great shock to Kira. She didn't realise what he was doing and thought she knew him, but given that he didn't even know himself, how could she? Was she in love with the mask he wore (no pun intended!)? What I'm basically trying to say was conveyed far more concisely in the actual dialogue:
"I see you," Kira responds.
"No, no...this is just a form I borrowed. I could just as easily be someone or something else."
"I know that. But this...this is what you have always chosen to be. A man. A good and honest man. A man I fell in love with," Kira responds. "Are you trying to tell me that he never really existed?"
"I don't know."
You know, this demonstrates tremendous growth on the part of Kira. She's come a long, long way from the aggressive, traumatised individual we met seven years ago. Her actions during DS9's early years were very much indicative of someone that had endured horrific circumstances and this trauma was evident in a lot of her behaviour. In some ways she reacted out of her "primary instinct", ie. self interest. Her love life reflected a need to be with strong, quiet, spiritual men (and men in power, as Nana Visitor has pointed out before) almost as a kind of stabilising mechanism. Perhaps she became involved with Bareil and Shakaar not so much because of who they were but for what they could offer her (most likely stability and peace). That's the impression I get when I look back and I don't mean that in a judgemental way at all, after all lots of people do this when they look for someone else, they look for someone who will bring them something that is missing in their lives -- and most the time it's quite unconsciously.
To illustrate the point, cast your mind back to Life Support where Bareil was severely injured. Kira kept pushing for Bashir to go to ever further extremes to keep him alive, evidently not realising that it would be far kinder just to let him go. It may sound callous, because it's understandable that we don't want to lose a loved one, but this indicates that Kira was primarily concerned with her not wanting to lose Bareil than she was about Bareil who, by the end of the episode, was practically a zombie. She was unable to let him go.
Four years later, Kira has come to a point where she has developed the inner strength and security that when she realises that Odo might be better off with Laas, she is able to let him go. It's easy to see her pain at doing so, but her actions were motivated out of love rather than fear. In Life Support she was overcome with fear of losing Bareil. Yet now, even though she knows she'll lose Odo, her love is stronger than her fear and it is that love that enables her to do what she feels is best for Odo. Which, I believe, demonstrates the difference between conditional and unconditional love. Conditional love is governed by fear. True love is when you set aside all expectations, all demands, all desires and needs and simply love a person for who are. Kira demonstrates that she doesn't love Odo for what he does, for how good he makes her feel about herself, or for whatever security their relationship provides. She doesn't love him because he's in the form of a humanoid. She loves him.
She let him go so he could go be where he belongs. But her sacrifice only made his decision for him. He knows where he belongs -- with her. His desire to be with his people, to belong with his own kind, to explore his own nature and identity is immensely strong as we've seen. But far stronger is the bond of love that he shares with Kira. At its highest, purest form, love is perhaps the strongest force in the universe.
In the face of love, difference means nothing because real love is all-embracing.
Laas retorts that compared to the Link, love is but a pale shadow, "a feeble attempt to compensate for the isolation mono-forms feel because they are trapped within themselves". Perhaps he's right, but as Odo points out, Laas has never known love, so he's perhaps not best qualified to make that statement. Laas is a rather tragic character. He has evidently only experienced the uglier nature of humanoids and has therefore been left embittered and resentful of them, much like an abused child. Throughout the course of the episode he makes a number of pointed remarks about us that have more than a grain of truth to them. We are intolerant of difference, we do think we're "supreme" and have the right to use and abuse everything and everyone under our power (Laas made a good example with the way we treat animals). But that is just one facet of human nature. At the opposite end of the spectrum are such qualities as compassion, kindness, selflessness and...yes, unconditional love!
After saying farewell to Laas, Odo returns to Kira, who is surprised to see him again. Kira apologises if she has ever made Odo feel that he couldn't be himself around her. She wants to know him; the real him. He may be different to her, but that is not an issue, because love overcomes difference. Odo takes her hand and dissolves into a shimmering, radiant cloud of light that dances around and embraces her. I'm sorry, folks, but that's where I had to reach for the tissues! I wasn't weeping because it was sad, but because it was so beautiful! It's one of the most unforgettably tender, intimate and emotional moments I've ever seen on television. I'm not just talking about the gorgeous effects or the stirring music, I'm talking about what was actually going on between these two characters. They were opening their hearts to each other; completely, unreservedly, unconditionally. It was an electrifying combination of visual grandeur and emotional charge that demonstrated the closeness and beauty of their relationship in a powerful way, the likes of which I've never seen before. It has to be seen to be believed.
On just about every level this episode is an absolute treat. Rene Echevarria simply can't be praised enough for his beautiful, deep, thought-provoking and moving script. It combined characterisation and plot in a way that was seamless. The best stories are always those that stem from the characters instead of merely using them as pawns to service a plot. Echevarria masterfully delved into the very hearts and souls of the characters, posing some fascinating questions which commendably had wholly satisfying answers. There's so much depth and truth in what amounts to a "meditation about the world and the human condition". Of course, it didn't hurt that this script was brought to life by some of the most talented actors in the business. The ever-excellent Rene Auberjonois gave a multi-layered and riveting performance as his character was stripped away, piece by piece and forced to re-evaluate his life on DS9. He was ably supported by Nana Visitor who, despite a smaller role, matched him beat for beat and excelled herself in her depictions of Kira's feelings and emotions.
The pair of them worked so beautifully together; so much so that I not only believed they were deeply in love, but I actually felt it. Their warm, tender scenes together achieved a new level of authenticity. And let's not forget Garman Hertzler, also known as J.G. Hertzler who plays Martok! Boy, I've always loved his performance as Martok and I credit the man with single-handedly making the Klingons seem fresh and interesting again, but I never knew he was this good an actor. His performance as Laas was so remarkably controlled, textured and nuanced that he was barely recognisable. Everything about him was different; his voice, his vocal inflections, mannerisms and body language. He made Laas an interesting, three-dimensional character almost instantly and kept a perfect balance between making his belligerence and vulnerability. I suspect that given the material many other actors may have played Laas as slightly unlikable, but Hertzler has the good sense to keep him sympathetic throughout, adding a tinge of tragedy to the character. Excellent work on all fronts.
The directing doesn't stand out quite as much, but it's still very solid and Steve Posey holds things together nicely. Perhaps the pace lags a bit to begin with, but that's about the only fault I can find with the episode and Posey more than makes up for it later on. The scenes with Odo and Kira are nicely shot, no doubt contributing greatly to the sense of intimacy and warmth. The first scene in Kira's quarters is a good case point and for whatever reason the lighting was notably effective. Posey manages to strike up a good pace following the death of the Klingon and keeps it going right through to the end. Again, the most striking part of the episode was that wonderful closing scene which was perfectly done. Posey, with the help of the actors and special effects guys really made an absolutely enchanting moment of television, without overdoing it.
That's about all I can say, really...and judging by the page count it's more than enough! (You know me once I get started!) I've said all I wanted to say and probably more besides. An astounding tour de force; dramatic, intelligent, thought-provoking, heartfelt and moving. It's a multi-layered story filled with meaningful character insight, posing difficult questions and an episode which takes touches both the mind and heart. I could go on, but I'll leave it at this -- simply beautiful.
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