Dead Television: Star Trek Prodigy

Well, it’s good, so of course they got rid of it.

As Star Trek celebrates its 60th anniversary, it’s the perfect time to look back not just at where the franchise began, but at where it found its footing again after one of its most divisive eras. Since the launch of the streaming age, Star Trek has gone in just about every direction imaginable. Some series tried to reinvent the formula, others leaned heavily on nostalgia, and a few struggled to figure out exactly what they wanted to be. Through all of that, though, one show quietly accomplished something remarkable: “Star Trek: Prodigy” became the series that best captured the optimism, adventure, and sense of discovery that have always been at the heart of Star Trek.

That achievement is even more impressive considering “Prodigy’s” place in the franchise’s animation history. It arrived as only the second major era of Star Trek animation following “Star Trek: The Animated Series”, while joining “Star Trek: Lower Decks” in proving that animation could tell meaningful stories in Gene Roddenberry’s universe without feeling like a novelty. Rather than simply being “the kids’ show,” “Prodigy” embraced Star Trek’s ideals with sincerity, introducing a new generation to the franchise while giving longtime fans a story that felt unmistakably authentic.

That isn’t to say the modern era has been without its successes, but it’s been an uneven journey. “Star Trek: Discovery” never really clicked for me, though I have to admit it was kinda funny that the writers eventually sent the series all the way to the 32nd century in the hopes of stopping fan complaints about canon inconsistencies. “Star Trek: Picard” stumbled badly out of the gate before finding a much stronger conclusion, even if its later seasons leaned a little too heavily on nostalgia and fan service. “Lower Decks” was a series I had to warm up to, but over time (especially through Mariner’s character development later) it became one of the franchise’s more rewarding recent entries. “Strange New Worlds” is genuinely enjoyable and probably the strongest live-action series of the era, although it sometimes feels a bit too eager to reassure longtime fans by constantly winking toward Kirk’s future and, oddly enough, even the TNG era. And while Starfleet Academy didn’t work for me, it wasn’t because of the common online criticisms; my biggest issue was that it often felt more like a CW-style YA drama than a Star Trek series.

Against that backdrop, “Star Trek: Prodigy” stands apart. More than any other series of the modern era, it remembers that Star Trek isn’t just about familiar faces, references, or darker storytelling, it’s about hope, curiosity, and becoming better than we are today. Sixty years after the Enterprise first set course for the final frontier, that’s exactly the kind of Star Trek worth celebrating.

PLOT

Season 1 starts off in the Delta Quadrant, five years after USS Voyager returned home, following a group of young aliens who have never even heard of the Federation.

The story begins on the bleak mining colony of Tars Lamora, where a resourceful teenager named Dal R’El dreams of escaping the prison-like world he’s called home for as long as he can remember. The colony is ruled by the mysterious and ruthless Diviner, who dispatches his robotic enforcer, Drednok, to capture a troublesome prisoner known only as Zero, an incorporeal Medusan whose extraordinary abilities inadvertently trigger an explosion that gives Dal a chance to run. After Dal is recaptured, the Diviner’s daughter, Gwyn, interrogates him and gives him just one day to find Zero.

While searching the deepest mining levels, Dal is paired with a massive Brikar laborer who initially can’t understand him. After an accident causes a cave-in, the pair discovers something impossible buried beneath the colony: an abandoned Federation starship, the USS Protostar. Once aboard, the universal translator allows the Brikar to introduce herself as Rok-Tahk (and despite her size, she’s actually a young girl), and they’re soon joined by Zero, the gruff Tellarite engineer Jankom Pog, and the lovable Mellanoid Slime Worm Murf. When Gwyn and Drednok corner them, the unlikely group takes Gwyn hostage and escapes Tars Lamora aboard the Protostar.

Their escape introduces one of the show’s best ideas: the ship’s Emergency Training Hologram, modeled after former Voyager captain Kathryn Janeway (complete with bun of steel). Assuming the escapees are Starfleet cadets, Holo-Janeway patiently begins teaching them how to operate the Protostar while introducing them (and the younger audience) to the ideals of the Federation and Starfleet. It’s a clever narrative device that makes “Prodigy” feel welcoming to newcomers without talking down to longtime fans.

Each member of the crew reacts differently to these lessons. Zero, Jankom Pog, Rok, and even Murf are fascinated by Starfleet’s ideals and eager to learn. Dal, meanwhile, appoints himself captain and dismisses Janeway’s advice, convinced he knows better. His overconfidence quickly catches up with him when he accidentally orders the Protostar into a dying star, forcing him to swallow his pride and rely on Holo-Janeway’s expertise to save both the ship and his friends. It’s an early lesson that leadership isn’t about confidence alone, it’s about knowing when to listen.

Back on board, Gwyn remains a prisoner, secretly planning to reclaim the Protostar and return it to her father. The Diviner, having lost his prize once already, begins an obsessive pursuit that becomes the driving conflict of the season.

The crew’s first real mission takes them to what appears to be a peaceful M-Class planet. Splitting up to explore in the Protostar’s runabout, they each encounter visions tailored to their deepest desires: Dal sees the loving parents he barely remembers, Jankom Pog sees a Tellarite stew, Rok befriends an adorable bunny-like creature, and Zero discovers an enormous, beautiful topiary maze. Rather than paradise, however, the planet is manipulating their minds.

Dal eventually realizes what’s happening and manages to snap everyone out of the trance, but the planet retaliates. Massive tentacles seize the Protostar, forcing Holo-Janeway to order Gwyn and Murf to abandon ship before it crashes. Separated from their vessel, the six young fugitives must work together to survive while the planet continually shifts its terrain to keep them lost.

One of the episode’s strongest moments comes as Dal and Gwyn, who have spent most of the season distrusting each other finally begin working as equals. Using the stars rather than the ever-changing landscape to navigate, they lead the group back to the Protostar. When the Diviner and Drednok finally arrive, the planet deceives them into chasing an illusion, buying the crew just enough time to escape.

Their getaway reveals the Protostar’s greatest secret: its revolutionary proto-warp drive. Unlike conventional warp travel (or even quantum slipstream) the experimental propulsion system allows the ship to travel more than 4,000 light-years in just minutes (with no one turning into salamanders!), making it one of the fastest vessels ever constructed. With Gwyn reluctantly joining the crew, the Protostar vanishes into the stars, leaving the furious Diviner behind and setting the stage for a galaxy-spanning adventure.

Thanks to the Protostar’s revolutionary proto-warp drive, the crew covers an astonishing 4,000 light-years in a matter of minutes, emerging in the Gamma Quadrant. It’s the first real indication that this isn’t just another Starfleet vessel, it represents a technological leap that could fundamentally change exploration throughout the galaxy.

With a little breathing room, Holo-Janeway introduces the young crew to another iconic piece of Star Trek technology: the holodeck. While everyone else enjoys the possibilities of unlimited virtual adventures, Dal immediately heads for Starfleet’s most infamous leadership exercise, the Kobayashi Maru.

As expected, Dal fails.

Then he fails again.

And again.

Convinced there’s a way to beat it, he repeatedly attempts the simulation, even recruiting holographic versions of legendary Starfleet officers (namely Spock, Scotty, Uhura, Odo, and Dr. Crusher) to crew his bridge. It’s a wonderfully fan-pleasing sequence, but unlike many modern Star Trek callbacks, it actually serves the story. Dal eventually realizes the lesson isn’t about winning; it’s about accepting that some situations have no perfect solution. A captain’s job isn’t to control everything; it is to make the best possible decisions even when failure is inevitable. It’s another important step in Dal’s gradual transformation from a self-appointed leader into someone who might actually deserve the title of captain.

Meanwhile, Gwyn makes an equally important discovery. Using her remarkable gift for languages, she deciphers encrypted portions of Holo-Janeway’s programming and uncovers records about the Protostar’s original mission. The ship was commanded by Capt. Chakotay, and at some point his crew was boarded by an unknown enemy before mysteriously disappearing. Rather than answering questions, the revelation creates a much larger mystery that hangs over the remainder of the season.

Not long afterward, the crew answers what appears to be a distress call, only to discover it’s coming from someone Dal knows all too well: Nandi, the Ferengi smuggler who effectively raised him. Their reunion is far from heartwarming, but Nandi makes an offer that’s difficult to refuse. She possesses valuable cloaking technology that can be powered by the Protostar’s Chimerium crystals, but she needs the crew’s help stealing a rare Remalite crystal from an unexplored planet.

Holo-Janeway immediately objects, reminding everyone that interfering with a pre-warp civilization would violate the Prime Directive. The crew ignores her advice and helps Nandi complete the theft, only to witness firsthand the damage they’ve caused to the planet’s people. Realizing Janeway was right all along, they steal the crystal back from Nandi and return it where it belongs.

The experience is another lesson in what separates Starfleet from ordinary adventurers. Doing the right thing often means sacrificing personal gain.

Unfortunately, Nandi leaves with the Chimerium crystals anyway and worse, discovers the Diviner has placed a bounty on the children. She promptly sells him the Protostar’s location. Although it will take months for the Diviner’s ship to reach that region of space conventionally, he finds another way to strike, remotely hacking the Protostar’s shuttlecraft replicator to begin constructing a duplicate of Drednok aboard the ship itself.

One of the season’s cleverest episodes follows as the crew participates in a seemingly simple holodeck exercise based on the classic Chicken, Fox, and Grain river-crossing puzzle. Their inability to cooperate becomes painfully obvious, and almost immediately afterward the Protostar flies into a dangerous tachyon storm that fractures time itself.

Instead of experiencing time normally, each crewmember is trapped in a different temporal frame. Some experience mere seconds while others live through days or even years. Holo-Janeway becomes the only constant, moving between each timeline and coordinating everyone’s contributions toward saving the ship. The standout is Rok, who experiences time so slowly that she spends what feels like years studying science and engineering in complete isolation before finally devising the solution that restores the proper timeline. It’s one of the season’s most emotional episodes, giving Rok tremendous depth while demonstrating that every member of the crew has something valuable to contribute.

The anomaly ends but the half-finished Drednok survives.

The incomplete robot delivers a recorded message from the Diviner, promising to free every prisoner on Tars Lamora if the children simply return the Protostar. The offer divides the crew. Most want to save the miners immediately, while Dal fears returning to the prison that defined his entire life.

Eventually they devise a risky plan.

The Protostar returns to Tars Lamora and is willingly handed over to the Diviner, who promptly betrays them. Taking Gwyn and Drednok aboard, he destroys the colony’s power source before leaving, believing he has finally reclaimed his prize.

Except the crew anticipated the betrayal.

When the Diviner attempts to activate the proto-warp engine, he discovers its power source (the miniature proto-star itself) is gone. Murf secretly swallowed it as part of the plan, leaving the Protostar temporarily useless while the rest of the crew prepares to restore power to the colony and free the miners using the Diviner’s own ship.

The climax on Tars Lamora finally reveals the truth behind everything.

The crew defeats Drednok and restores the colony’s power, but the Diviner confesses the real reason he has hunted the Protostar. He is a traveler from the future whose civilization destroyed itself in a civil war after making first contact with Starfleet. Determined to erase that future, he intends to use the Protostar to deliver a devastating computer virus capable of destroying Starfleet itself.

In perhaps the season’s most unsettling moment, Zero reveals their true Medusan form to the Diviner. Because Medusans are incomprehensible to most humanoid minds, merely seeing Zero’s true appearance drives him permanently insane. Gwyn accidentally catches only Zero’s reflection, sparing her sanity but wiping her memory of everything the Diviner revealed about his plan.

With the Diviner defeated and left behind on Tars Lamora, the imprisoned miners finally escape aboard his ship, while the Protostar resumes its journey toward Federation space. For the first time, the crew is no longer simply running away, they’re heading toward the future they’ve begun to believe in.

Unknown to them, however, another ship has already picked up their trail. Aboard the USS Dauntless, the real Vice Adm. Janeway has begun searching for Chakotay and the missing Protostar. What starts as a rescue mission will soon intersect with the young crew’s own adventure, setting up the second half of the season while bringing the story even closer to Voyager’s legacy.

The second half of Season 1 shifts gears from a straightforward adventure story into a race against time, with the Protostar crew trying to stop a catastrophe they accidentally carry with them. By this point, the characters have grown from fugitives into genuine heroes, but they’re burdened with a terrible realization: simply reaching the Federation could doom it.

The Protostar eventually arrives in the Beta Quadrant, where the crew seeks refuge at a remote Starfleet communications relay station staffed by the friendly Denobulan, Lt. Frex. Hoping to finally make peaceful contact with Starfleet, Frex performs biometric scans on the crew. Murf’s results are mostly a curiosity, but Dal’s scan produces one of the season’s biggest mysteries: Starfleet’s computers recognize his species, yet the information is classified at the highest levels. It’s an intriguing tease that suggests Dal’s origins are far more complicated than anyone imagined.

At the same time, Gwyn attempts to recover the memories she lost after seeing Zero’s reflected Medusan form. Using the station’s medical equipment, she finally remembers the Diviner’s warning about the Construct, the hidden weapon aboard the Protostar. Tragically, she remembers too late.

Lt. Frex unknowingly connects the relay station to the Protostar’s systems, activating the Construct for the first time. Almost instantly, the station’s automated defenses turn against themselves, forcing the installation to self-destruct. Frex barely escapes with his life, while the horrified crew realizes that simply contacting Starfleet is enough to unleash the weapon.

Meanwhile, aboard the USS Dauntless, Adm. Kathryn Janeway follows the Protostar’s trail to Tars Lamora. She recovers the seemingly defeated Diviner, hoping he can explain what happened to Chakotay and his crew. Instead, she finds a broken man whose memories have been erased, leaving more questions than answers.

Back aboard the Protostar, the crew locates the Construct hidden within a secret compartment of the ship. Unfortunately, they discover the worst possible news: it cannot simply be removed or destroyed. Desperate for answers, they investigate an abandoned Borg Cube, reasoning that if anyone understands advanced technology capable of overriding computer systems, it would be the Borg.

The gamble almost ends in disaster.

Zero links with the dormant Collective to search for information, but is immediately assimilated. The rest of the crew is captured as well until Gwyn manages to sever Zero’s connection before the Cube fully reawakens. The Borg return to dormancy, but the mission confirms that not even Borg technology can neutralize the Construct.

One of the season’s most heartfelt episodes then pays tribute to a surprisingly obscure piece of Star Trek history. Answering another distress signal, the crew discovers an M-Class planet inhabited by the Enderprizians, a pre-warp civilization that has spent generations idolizing Starfleet after encountering a crashed Federation shuttle centuries earlier. The story serves as a direct sequel to the TOS episode “Obsession,” revealing the fate of Ensign David Garrovick’s lost shuttlecraft.

The villagers are suffering from a mysterious illness that also infects Dal. Investigating the crash site, the crew discovers that the abandoned shuttle’s plasma systems have slowly poisoned the surrounding environment for decades. Working together with the Enderprizians, they safely dispose of the wreckage and seal the cave while Zero develops a cure for the disease. Like many of “Prodigy’s” standalone adventures, the episode reinforces Star Trek’s belief that compassion, science, and cooperation solve problems better than violence ever could.

Returning to the Protostar, the crew finds Murf sealed inside a cocoon, beginning an unexpected stage of his life cycle. With the Construct making it impossible to safely approach Starfleet, they decide to hide the Protostar near a busy transportation hub and find another ship instead.

There they meet one of Star Trek’s most unexpected returning characters: the charming and outrageous rogue Thadiun Okona, last seen in The Next Generation. Still a lovable smuggler decades later, Okona offers to help before immediately getting arrested for, unsurprisingly, smuggling.

At the same station, Adm. Janeway finally catches up with Lt. Frex and realizes the mysterious children she’s been chasing are nearby. A frantic chase sends both the Protostar and the Dauntless racing back into space, with Okona secretly stowing away aboard the heroes’ ship.

During the pursuit, Murf emerges from his cocoon in a dramatically evolved, bipedal form, becoming both larger and considerably more capable than before. Janeway, still unaware of the Construct, disables the Protostar’s warp drive, forcing the young crew to flee into the Romulan Neutral Zone.

Seeking repairs at a starport, Dal receives another shocking revelation from geneticist Dr. Jago. He learns that he isn’t simply an unknown alien species at all. Instead, he’s an engineered individual whose DNA combines Human genetics with traits from twenty-six other species. To demonstrate his dormant potential, Jago temporarily unlocks those abilities with a neural implant.

The newfound strength and reflexes allow Dal to defeat a group of Romulans attempting to seize the Protostar, but the enhancement comes at a cost. The augmentations begin overwhelming his personality, illustrating exactly why genetic engineering remains outlawed within the Federation. After Murf helps repel the remaining attackers, Zero removes the implant, restoring Dal to normal.

The political situation becomes even more complicated aboard the Dauntless. The seemingly trustworthy Ensign Asencia finally reveals her true identity as the Vindicator, another survivor of the Diviner’s species and the real architect behind the mission to destroy Starfleet. With the help of her own reconstructed Drednok, she restores the Diviner’s memories.

Janeway, convinced the children are trying to help rather than attack the Federation, requests permission to enter the Neutral Zone to rescue them. Fleet Adm. Jellico refuses. His reasoning is perfectly understandable: violating the Neutral Zone could risk breaking potential peace talks with the Romulan Star Empire. Alongside Janeway’s XO, Cmdr. Tyress, Jellico also points out that Janeway’s determination to rescue Chakotay may be clouding her judgment, twisting the knife further he orders her to destroy the Protostar if the Romulans try to steal it. It’s one of the season’s more nuanced conflicts, presenting both sides as acting from legitimate concerns rather than simple stubbornness.

As the Protostar undergoes repairs, the series pauses for a quieter episode exploring the crew’s pasts. Rok reveals she was once forced to play the “monster” in staged gladiatorial spectacles until she fought back and was sold into slavery. Zero explains they were captured while serving on a peaceful Medusan exploration mission. Jankom Pog recounts sacrificing his own safety to save fellow Tellarites from a failing cryogenic colony ship before being captured himself. These stories reinforce one of the show’s central themes: every member of the crew came from a life defined by exploitation, making Starfleet’s ideals of freedom and equality especially meaningful.

The Construct soon strikes again by corrupting Holo-Janeway herself. The crew becomes trapped inside personalized holodeck adventures, including Zero’s detective mystery, Jankom’s fighting simulation, Murf’s jazz club, and an amusing combination of Dal’s pirate fantasy with Rok’s adorable virtual pet program. Rather than defeating the scenarios, Zero realizes they must refuse to play by the programs’ rules entirely. Escaping reveals the heartbreaking truth that Holo-Janeway has been unwillingly following a hidden subroutine designed by the Construct to keep the crew distracted until they reach Federation space.

The emotional climax begins as the Protostar finally enters Federation territory with the Dauntless close behind. In one of the season’s funniest (and most insightful) episodes, Dal accidentally activates his newly emerging telepathic abilities and swaps bodies with Adm. Janeway. The comedy is entertaining, but the real payoff comes from Janeway experiencing the crew’s memories firsthand. For the first time, she fully understands who these children are and why they’ve made the choices they have.

She repairs Holo-Janeway, promises to help stop the Construct, and acknowledges Dal’s remarkable growth. However, she also gently explains that because he’s genetically engineered, Federation law currently prevents him from joining Starfleet Academy, a bittersweet reminder that even the Federation’s ideals have limitations.

After Janeway and Dal switch back during a daring spacewalk between the two ships, the Protostar emerges from warp… only to find itself surrounded by a massive Federation armada.

The season finale is a spectacular tragedy.

Unable to understand the danger, the fleet opens fire. The Vindicator, the restored Diviner, and Drednok beam aboard the Protostar. Gwyn battles the Vindicator while Drednok effortlessly overpowers the rest of the crew. In a fitting conclusion to his redemption arc, the Diviner sacrifices himself to save Gwyn, asking only that she succeed where he failed by bringing peace to their people instead of vengeance.

The Vindicator activates the Construct, and chaos erupts.

Across the armada, Starfleet vessels begin attacking one another. Universal translators fail, leaving crews unable to communicate as friendly ships become enemies in seconds. Gwyn’s extraordinary gift for languages finally becomes the key to hope, allowing her to broadcast a multilingual distress signal that reaches numerous Federation allies. Even with reinforcements arriving, however, the Construct’s influence spreads too quickly.

Realizing there is only one option left, the crew decides to sacrifice the Protostar. By engaging the proto-warp drive and destroying the ship simultaneously, they hope to carry the Construct away from the fleet.

The most heartbreaking sacrifice belongs to Holo-Janeway.

Knowing someone must remain aboard to complete the maneuver, she stays behind while the children escape aboard a hastily assembled shuttle. The destruction of the Protostar creates a temporal wormhole, and in her final moments Holo-Janeway believes she glimpses Chakotay and the original crew still alive somewhere in the future.

After reaching Earth, the young heroes are placed on trial for the devastation surrounding the Protostar. Thanks largely to Adm. Janeway’s passionate defense, Starfleet recognizes that the children risked everything to save the Federation rather than destroy it. Instead of punishment, they receive an extraordinary opportunity: they are commissioned as warrant officers and invited to join Janeway’s new mission to locate Chakotay and uncover the fate of the original Protostar.

The only member who declines is Gwyn. Inspired by her father’s final request, she chooses to return to Solum in the hope of preventing the civil war that doomed her people before it ever begins.

Season 2 wisely avoids trying to simply repeat the first season. Instead of returning to the familiar “kids learning about Starfleet” formula, it asks a more interesting question: What happens after you’ve earned your place in Starfleet? The answer is a season that leans much more heavily into serialized storytelling, time travel, and classic Star Trek science fiction while allowing its characters to continue maturing.

A year after saving the Federation, Dal, Rok, Jankom Pog, Murf, and Zero have officially been recruited by Adm. Janeway to serve aboard the USS Voyager-A. Having dreamed about joining Starfleet for so long, they’re thrilled, until reality sets in.

They’re cadets.

Instead of immediately joining Janeway’s bridge crew, they spend most of their time training under Starfleet instructors. It’s a clever subversion of the typical “heroes save the day and get rewarded” ending from Season 1. Saving the Federation may have earned them a chance, but they still have to prove themselves.

Each cadet gradually finds a direction. Zero develops a fascination with medicine and begins studying under the ship’s chief medical officer: The Doctor, discovering they have both the curiosity and compassion to become an exceptional physician. The others likewise begin exploring where they fit aboard a Starfleet vessel rather than simply surviving aboard one.

Naturally, the young crew isn’t thrilled about being kept away from Adm. Janeway and excluded from anything important.

Adding insult to injury is the return of Nova Squadron, a new group of pilots stationed on the ship. Their leader, the young Vulcan Maj’el, initially views Dal and his friends as reckless celebrities rather than genuine Starfleet material. The rivalry works well because neither side is entirely wrong: the Protostar crew are talented but impulsive, while Nova Squadron is disciplined but often dismissive of unconventional thinking.

Unable to resist investigating, the cadets eventually discover why Janeway has been keeping secrets from everyone. Hidden aboard Voyager-A is the Infinity, a highly advanced cloaked vessel built specifically to search for Chakotay, who remains stranded beyond the temporal anomaly created by the destruction of the Protostar.

Janeway reluctantly entrusts the young crew with this information, asking them to keep the mission confidential.

Of course, that lasts about five minutes.

Maj’el overhears Dal discussing the Infinity and attempts to stop the cadets from taking the ship. The resulting struggle accidentally activates the vessel, launching it into the temporal wormhole far earlier than anyone intended and kicking off the season’s central adventure.

While the cadets stumble into the past, Gwyn faces her own uphill battle on Solum. Hoping to prevent the future she knows is coming, she attempts to convince her people to choose peace instead of fear. Unfortunately, Ascencia has already arrived ahead of her, manipulating Solum’s leadership into believing Gwyn herself is the true danger.

Forced to flee, Gwyn reunites with Ilthuran (the younger, uncorrupted version of the man who will eventually become the Diviner). It’s a fascinating relationship because the audience already knows who Ilthuran will become, while Gwyn has to reconcile the compassionate man standing before her with the tyrant she knew.

With Ilthuran’s support, Gwyn challenges Ascencia directly, hoping to expose her deception through ritual combat.

Meanwhile, Dal, Jankom Pog, Zero, and even the initially unwilling Maj’el are captured by the Diviner’s forces. Their imprisonment leads to one of the season’s biggest surprises: sharing a holding cell with Chakotay and his first officer from the original Protostar mission.

This is where Season 2 fully embraces one of Star Trek’s favorite storytelling devices: time travel with consequences.

Dal desperately tries not to interfere with history. He understands that changing the past could erase Gwyn from existence entirely. Ironically, his attempt to avoid altering events is exactly what changes them. Accidentally dropping his phaser gives Chakotay the means to reach the Protostar and escape captivity, creating the very timeline the crew had hoped to preserve.

The consequences are immediate.

Across time, Gwyn begins flickering in and out of existence, her body literally losing its place in history. She ultimately loses her duel with Ascencia, not because she’s defeated, but because time itself is unraveling around her.

At the same time, Dal, Zero, Jankom, and Maj’el receive an inexplicable transmission carrying only three words:

“Save Gwyn.”

Finding her becomes a race against time in every sense of the phrase. Barely able to remain anchored to reality, Gwyn slips unpredictably through different moments in time while suffering tremendous pain. Realizing conventional solutions won’t work, Zero proposes perhaps the most delightfully Star Trek solution imaginable:

Build a time machine.

Using the Infinity as a foundation, the crew transforms the ship into a functional temporal vessel, with Dal receiving an accelerated education in Temporal Mechanics along the way. The sequence is pure Star Trek, wildly ambitious science fiction presented with just enough technobabble to make it believable within the franchise.

During Gwyn’s increasingly unstable jumps through time, she encounters something even stranger. Beyond the flow of time itself, she hears a mysterious voice repeating a cryptic message:

“You must stay together.”

Eventually, Dal and the others manage to retrieve Gwyn and return her to Voyager-A, where an interphase stabilization armband finally anchors her within the present timeline. The immediate crisis is resolved, but the mystery only deepens.

Rather than rushing into the next action sequence, the season wisely slows down for one of its more character-driven episodes.

Murf, whose bizarre behavior has always been played largely for comedy, begins communicating with someone (or something) that nobody else can perceive. He creates an intricate mural depicting the exact spiral Gwyn saw during her temporal visions.

Determined to understand him, the crew modifies the universal translator in increasingly ridiculous ways, producing one humorous failure after another. Eventually they realize the answer isn’t better technology but better understanding, turning to Rok for help. Initially lacking confidence, Rok receives unexpected encouragement from Gillian, a humpback whale operating Voyager-A’s Cetacean Ops (and granddaughter of George and Gracie)

Working together, Rok and Murf finally establish meaningful communication. Diving into the water, Murf unexpectedly develops fins and a tail, revealing yet another stage of his unusual biology. Gillian translates his message into just two words:

“Find me.”

Along with a set of mysterious coordinates.

Before the crew can fully investigate, Gwyn experiences another violent temporal episode. This time she finds herself suspended in open space before the now-familiar spiral while the same mysterious voice gives her an even more urgent warning:

“Find me before they find you.”

The vision ends with eerie clicking and screeching sounds unlike anything previously encountered in the series before Gwyn is abruptly pulled back into normal reality.

The middle stretch of Season 2 is where “Prodigy” fully embraces being a love letter to Star Trek’s biggest science-fiction ideas. It mixes comedy, high-concept temporal storytelling, philosophical questions about identity, and deep franchise lore, yet somehow keeps its focus squarely on its young cast.

One of the season’s funniest episodes begins after the cadets take inspiration from one of the Doctor’s holonovels. Since the Infinity is scheduled for decommissioning before they can use it to continue their mission, the group devises an elaborate plan: create holographic duplicates of themselves to attend classes and perform their duties while the real cadets secretly steal the ship.

Naturally, the plan goes spectacularly wrong.

The holograms are programmed with memories and personalities so complete that each one genuinely believes it is the real person. Instead of obedient stand-ins, they’re independent individuals fighting to preserve what they think is their own existence. The episode cleverly explores a familiar Star Trek theme (whether holograms deserve recognition as living beings) while also delivering plenty of comedy.

The standout relationship is between Rok and her holographic counterpart. Rather than treating one another as rivals, the two immediately begin collaborating to solve the crisis, reflecting Rok’s fundamentally kind nature. Meanwhile, the other holograms become increasingly unpredictable thanks to a software glitch that accidentally swaps their personalities, creating a wonderfully chaotic farce while the real crew escapes aboard the Infinity.

Their journey soon takes them through a Borg transwarp conduit to an uncharted world occupied by the Kazon. At first, the planet appears to be exactly what the Kazon are known for: another brutal society where strength determines survival.

Dal, Gwyn, Rok, and Jankom Pog are quickly captured and forced into a dangerous competitive race clearly designed to eliminate contestants rather than entertain spectators. Zero and Murf avoid capture, allowing them to investigate from the shadows.

As the race unfolds, Dal once again demonstrates how much he’s matured since Season 1. Instead of focusing on winning, he repeatedly risks defeat to save Gwyn and Rok. His priorities have shifted from proving himself to protecting his friends.

The real mystery, however, lies behind the games.

Dal notices one of the Kazon behaving strangely and eventually discovers the shocking truth: the apparent Kazon ruler is actually an android. Investigating further, Zero and Murf uncover the planet’s true history. It was originally a sophisticated training facility before its central computer achieved sentience and concluded that controlling organic life was the only logical purpose of its existence.

The machine has spent years manipulating generations of Kazon through neural control devices, reducing them to unwilling participants in its endless experiments.

Even Murf falls under its influence after the computer attaches one of the control devices to him.

The solution comes not through superior firepower but through Zero’s unwavering faith in their friends. Rejecting the computer’s cynical belief that biological beings inevitably fail one another, Zero throws themselves directly into the machine’s core, triggering an explosion that destroys the rogue intelligence.

It’s a heroic sacrifice that comes with consequences. Zero’s containment suit is heavily damaged, leaving them unable to move independently. Rather than leaving them behind or trying to “fix” the problem immediately, the crew simply carries their friend, reinforcing one of “Prodigy’s” recurring messages: helping others isn’t a burden.

Meanwhile, events aboard Voyager-A become considerably stranger.

Maj’el, still suspicious about Gwyn’s disappearance, follows what she believes is Gwyn back to her quarters. Before she can investigate further, an eerie creature suddenly appears and attempts to erase the holographic duplicate. Only after realizing it isn’t attacking the real Gwyn does the entity disappear.

The moment is unsettling because the audience has no idea what the creature is or why it specifically wants Gwyn.

Seeking a permanent solution for Zero’s damaged body, the crew follows another Medusan named Ion to Ovidia IV, one of the season’s most imaginative new worlds.

Unlike most Star Trek planets, Ovidia IV is inhabited almost entirely by incorporeal beings who periodically create temporary physical bodies simply to experience sensations impossible in their natural state. Touch, taste, smell, and even gravity become extraordinary experiences rather than ordinary ones.

Zero chooses to undergo the transformation.

Watching Zero experience physical existence for the first time is one of the season’s most touching character moments. Simple acts like feeling the warmth of sunlight or sharing a meal suddenly become profound experiences after a lifetime spent inside a containment suit.

The celebration culminates in the Feast of Senses before leading into an ancient ritual known as the Running of the Nazamon.

At first the ceremony appears to be a joyous tradition.

Dal and Gwyn eventually discover the disturbing reality.

Not only do the physical bodies created on Ovidia IV rapidly deteriorate once they leave the planet, but the Nazamon ritual itself carries a very real chance of death. Zero has unknowingly accepted enormous risks simply to experience life as everyone else does.

When Dal is seized by the massive Nazamon creature, Zero refuses to abandon their friend, racing after them despite the danger. Together they tame the beast and escape, with Zero ultimately deciding that even a fragile physical existence beyond Ovidia IV is worth embracing.

Back aboard Voyager-A, the truth about the holograms finally comes to light.

Janeway, the Doctor, and Cmdr. Tysses uncover the deception, while holographic Gwyn reveals the mysterious warning she received before the strange creature attempted to erase her. The Doctor also discovers someone has altered the ship’s computer records, and Gwyn’s description of the creature’s distinctive clicking sounds convinces Janeway that the danger facing the cadets is far greater than anyone realized.

This mystery finally leads the story to one of its biggest reveals.

Following Murf’s coordinates, the crew reaches the Time Ziggurat, headquarters of the mysterious Travelers. There they finally meet the anonymous benefactor who has been guiding them from the shadows.

It’s Wesley Crusher.

Rather than simply bringing back a beloved TNG character for nostalgia, “Prodigy” meaningfully builds upon Wesley’s story from “Journey’s End.” Having fully embraced his role as a Traveler, Wesley now exists largely outside conventional space and time, making him uniquely qualified to explain what’s been happening.

His explanation completely reframes the season.

Every temporal alteration surrounding the Protostar has weakened reality itself, creating fractures in time that attract terrifying predators known as the Loom.

Unlike traditional Star Trek villains, the Loom aren’t evil in a conventional sense. They’re parasitic creatures that consume collapsing timelines, manipulating time itself to isolate and devour those responsible for the damage.

Almost immediately, the Loom attack.

Dal, Rok, Zero, Jankom, and Murf become frozen outside normal time, completely helpless. Only Gwyn and Wesley remain unaffected thanks to their temporal stabilizers. The sequence becomes a tense race through the Time Ziggurat as Gwyn and Wesley desperately search for additional stabilizer armbands while the Loom relentlessly pursue them through twisting corridors and impossible spaces.

Once everyone is stabilized, Wesley opens a temporal vault that deposits the group inside one of the season’s most delightfully bizarre locations: a secure bunker disguised as an ordinary Earth apartment straight out of the 1960s or 1970s. Elsewhere, Adm. Janeway traces the Infinity’s warp signature despite direct orders from Adm. Jellico to abandon the pursuit. Her determination reflects the same stubborn compassion that has defined Janeway ever since Voyager-A.

Unfortunately, she unknowingly leads Voyager-A directly into the Loom’s hunting grounds.

Cmdr. Tysses and Maj’el beam down with temporal stabilizers, using Maj’el’s telepathic bond with Zero to locate the missing cadets. The stakes immediately become horrifying. One crew member, Middleton, is attacked by the Loom and erased from existence entirely. The chilling part isn’t merely his death.

Everyone except those protected by temporal stabilizers instantly forgets he ever existed.

Janeway and The Doctor realize the terrifying implications almost immediately: the Loom don’t just kill people, they erase them from history itself. Maj’el eventually reaches Zero but becomes trapped by the Loom before Dal rescues her. The creatures force everyone back toward the surface while simultaneously destroying the Infinity, eliminating the crew’s carefully constructed time machine.

Janeway arrives just in time aboard Voyager-A, driving the Loom back by discovering that weapons with altered phase variance can actually injure them. Taking advantage of the brief respite, Wesley activates one final temporal portal. Dal hesitates, knowing that looking through it may reveal his own future, but the alternative is certain erasure.

Janeway finally reaches the group and is understandably stunned to find Wesley Crusher alive after all these years. There’s little time for explanations. Wesley sends the cadets and Maj’el through the portal before returning Janeway to Voyager-A. Remaining behind, Wesley confronts the Loom himself, apparently sacrificing his own safety to eliminate the creatures and preserve reality.

When the portal closes, Dal, Gwyn, Rok, Zero, Jankom Pog, Murf, and Maj’el find themselves standing on a desolate, sandy world. Waiting for them is an aging, battle-worn Chakotay and beside him sits the rusted wreck of the original Protostar.

The final stretch of Season 2 raises the stakes once again, but what makes it work is that the spectacle is always grounded in the characters. By this point, the crew has already proven themselves as heroes. The remaining episodes ask whether they can inspire others to become heroes again.

Following Wesley’s intervention, the cadets finally arrive on the desert world of Ysida, where the mystery of Chakotay’s disappearance is at last explained. The Protostar has been stranded there for ten years. Time has not been kind to either the ship or its captain.

After ejecting both the ship’s antimatter reserves and its experimental proto-core to prevent an even greater catastrophe, Chakotay has been forced to keep the Protostar barely operational on emergency power alone. More devastating than the mechanical failures, however, is what happened to his crew.

Holo-Janeway explains that Chakotay gradually watched nearly everyone under his command disappear. The presumed loss of his first officer, Adreek, finally broke his spirit, leaving the once-confident Starfleet captain a shell of the leader he had been.

The young crew naturally tries to help.

Nothing works.

Encouragement, optimism, and friendship all fail to reach him.

It takes a genuine emergency to bring the old Chakotay back.

When Dal disappears during a violent storm, Chakotay immediately springs into action without hesitation. Leading the rescue mission through dangerous terrain filled with enormous eel-like predators, he rediscovers the instincts that made him a captain in the first place. The search ends with a bittersweet discovery.

Dal has found Adreek’s remains alongside the antimatter the officer successfully recovered before dying. Even in death, Adreek completed his mission. Knowing his first officer never gave up finally gives Chakotay the strength to do the same. He agrees to return to command and help repair the damaged timeline. Repairing the Protostar itself proves equally inventive. Chakotay explains that before they can leave Ysida, they need deuterium hidden inside a massive storm system beyond the planet’s vast vapor ocean.

Since the ship cannot fly under its own power, the crew does something delightfully unexpected: They turn a Federation starship into a sailboat. It’s one of “Prodigy’s” most memorable visual ideas, transforming the sleek Protostar into an improvised sailing vessel drifting across an endless sea of clouds. Like much of the series, it’s a reminder that Star Trek has always embraced imaginative science fiction without worrying whether an idea sounds a little ridiculous on paper.

During the voyage, Dal and Chakotay frequently clash over leadership. Dal is frustrated, impatient, and increasingly distracted by something he refuses to discuss.

Eventually he admits the truth.

Looking into Wesley’s temporal portal allowed him to glimpse part of his own future, leaving him questioning whether any of his choices truly matter if his destiny is already written.

Chakotay’s response reflects everything he’s learned over decades in Starfleet. Drawing from his own experiences (including choices he regrets) he explains that knowing the future doesn’t diminish the value of deciding how to reach it. A person’s purpose isn’t determined by destiny but by the decisions they make every day.

The lesson comes full circle when Chakotay falls into the vapor ocean and Dal risks his own life to save him, demonstrating that he has grown into the kind of leader who instinctively puts others first. After surviving the maelstrom and harvesting enough deuterium, the crew restores the Protostar’s impulse engines and conventional warp drive. They’re finally able to leave Ysida after a decade-long exile.

Unfortunately, the absence of the proto-core means the ship still cannot perform another proto-jump. Worse, Voyager-A is now roughly 3,000 light-years away. The only solution is to build an entirely new proto-core from scratch. That quest leads to one of the season’s funniest adventures.

Searching for rare bosonite, the crew visits a planet overrun by genetically engineered giant tribbles, the result of experiments gone spectacularly wrong by the Klingon scientist Dr. K’ruvang. What begins as comic relief gradually becomes another meaningful character story.

Zero suffers a broken leg during the expedition, leading to the heartbreaking discovery that their newly acquired corporeal body is beginning to fail permanently. Unlike earlier injuries, this one cannot simply heal.

Working alongside Dr. K’ruvang, Rok helps reverse the tribbles’ genetic modifications, once again showcasing how far she’s come scientifically since her lonely years studying during the tachyon anomaly. In the process, however, she accidentally creates an irresistibly adorable hybrid between a tribble and a Brikar (a “Bribble”) which she happily adopts as a pet.

The successful mission provides enough bosonite to complete a replacement proto-core. At last, the Protostar is capable of proto-warp once more. The jump itself, however, creates perhaps the season’s most ambitious sequence.

Rather than arriving safely alongside Voyager-A, the Protostar emerges inside a fractured multiverse.

On one reality’s Voyager-A, Adm. Jellico commands the ship because Janeway and Dr. Noum died during the rescue attempt.

Another universe reveals the horrifying future where the Living Construct succeeded in destroying the Federation, and Okana looting Voyager-A

The proto-jump has literally torn holes through the already weakened fabric of reality, splintering Voyager-A across multiple timelines while further destabilizing Gwyn’s temporal existence.

Each fractured reality offers a different glimpse into what might have been.

Rok and Zero become stranded aboard perhaps the strangest version of Voyager-A imaginable: one commanded by Tuvix (though he doesn’t appear onscreen), the infamous transporter hybrid from “Voyager’s” most morally debated episode.

Elsewhere, Dal, Chakotay, Jankom, Murf, and Gwyn accidentally enter the Mirror Universe, confronting ruthless alternate versions of Janeway and Chakotay. Remarkably, even Mirror Janeway recognizes the existential danger posed by the Loom. Faced with the destruction of her own universe, she reluctantly assists the heroes by allowing them to use her ship to generate the pulse necessary to seal the dimensional rupture.

It’s a wonderfully Star Trek resolution: even across radically different realities, survival sometimes requires cooperation.

With the rift closed, the crew finally reaches the correct Voyager-A. After spending ten lonely years stranded beyond time, Chakotay is finally reunited with Adm. Janeway. The reunion is understated but deeply satisfying, bringing closure to a mystery that has driven both seasons.

Back aboard Voyager-A, another emotional moment follows, The Doctor confirms Zero’s greatest fear: Their physical body cannot be saved. Rather than offering false hope, he proposes something far more meaningful. By upgrading Zero’s containment suit with sophisticated sensory systems, they can continue experiencing touch, temperature, and other physical sensations without needing a biological form.

Zero entrusts the project to Jankom Pog, whose engineering skills (and friendship) have become among the strongest in the series. Just as things seem to be settling down, Starfleet intervenes. Meanwhile, Adm. Jellico orders both Voyager-A and the Protostar back to Earth. The Voyager crew will be reassigned, the cadets reevaluated, and responsibility for the Protostar transferred to the Department of Temporal Investigations.

For a brief moment, it appears the adventure is over.

Then Ilthuran contacts Gwyn.

His message changes everything.

Ascencia has seized control of Solum and now possesses advanced temporal weapons far beyond anything previously encountered. Almost immediately, she demonstrates that power. The experimental warship Rev-1 attacks both Voyager-A and the Protostar.

The final battle perfectly showcases how much every character has grown.

Dal joins Nova Squadron in starfighters rather than remaining safely aboard ship, proving he has finally earned the respect of Maj’el and the other cadets.

The rest of the crew returns to the Protostar.

Zero stays aboard Voyager-A to assist the Doctor despite their rapidly failing body.

After Nova Squadron’s initial assault fails, the Rev-1 disables the Protostar before striking Voyager-A with an Incursor, a terrifying temporal weapon capable of aging an entire starship into dust.

With no alternatives remaining, Zero makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Using the last strength of their failing physical body, they redirect the Incursor toward Maj’el’s fighter, allowing Nova Squadron to lure the beam into destroying the Rev-1 amid the Boothby Supernova.

It appears to be Zero’s final heroic act.

Thankfully, Zero awakens inside an upgraded containment suit capable of restoring the sensory experiences they feared losing forever.

It’s a beautiful resolution that preserves both aspects of Zero’s journey: they no longer need to choose between existing as a Medusan or experiencing the physical universe. Janeway announces that Starfleet has officially ordered both Voyager-A and the Protostar to Solum.

At the same time, the audience learns that Ascencia has secretly imprisoned Wesley Crusher, stealing his knowledge of temporal technology directly from his mind. Her closing words make it clear that the battle for Solum was never the endgame. From her perspective, Starfleet’s narrow victory only proved that the Federation is stretched dangerously thin and completely unprepared for whatever conflict is coming next.

The final arc of Season 2 does something remarkably ambitious: it wraps up the story of the Protostar, resolves the temporal paradox that began back in Season 1, brings nearly every major character arc to a satisfying conclusion, and simultaneously positions the series within the wider Star Trek timeline. It feels like both a finale and a beginning.

With the Federation and the Vau N’Akat standing on the brink of open war, Gwyn proposes perhaps the only solution that has any chance of succeeding. Instead of sending Starfleet officers (whose presence would almost certainly escalate the conflict), the Protostar crew, technically still operating outside Starfleet’s chain of command, can infiltrate Solum and accomplish what diplomacy no longer can.

Maj’el, completing one of the series’ strongest supporting character arcs, voluntarily resigns from Nova Squadron to join the mission. What began as rivalry has evolved into genuine friendship and mutual respect.

Once on Solum, the crew receives unexpected help from the younger version of Ascencia herself. Unlike the older Ascencia who has become consumed by revenge, this version has joined the rebellion against her future counterpart and reveals the terrible truth behind the Vau N’Akat’s technological superiority.

Everything comes back to Wesley Crusher.

His imprisonment has allowed Ascencia to extract knowledge of Traveler technology directly from his mind, giving her access to temporal weapons capable of threatening the entire Federation.

The rescue seems straightforward, until Wesley explains that the crew has once again changed history.

Ilthuran was never supposed to be rescued.

In the original timeline, he would eventually have escaped on his own and led the rebellion that overthrew Ascencia. Wesley deliberately allowed himself to be captured because he knew Ascencia needed to build the very temporal technology that would eventually be required to repair the fractured timeline.

It’s a wonderfully Star Trek twist.

The heroes’ instinct to save everyone immediately has accidentally complicated history yet again.

Recognizing that Wesley and Ilthuran are too valuable to remain prisoners, Dal makes the difficult decision to beam both men directly to Voyager-A, removing them from Ascencia’s control even if it means abandoning the carefully maintained timeline.

For perhaps the first time in his existence as a Traveler, Wesley admits complete uncertainty.

He warns Janeway that they’ve entered unexplored temporal territory.

He genuinely has no idea what happens next.

Stripped of his Traveler abilities by his imprisonment, Wesley suddenly finds himself vulnerable in a way audiences have never seen before. Confined to sickbay while the Doctor treats his injuries, he struggles with the loss of the nearly limitless perspective he’d possessed for decades.

Janeway offers exactly the reassurance he needs. Long before he became a Traveler, Wesley Crusher was an outstanding Starfleet officer. That part of him never disappeared. It’s a touching callback to his TNG journey, emphasizing that his greatest strength was never cosmic power, it was the curiosity and compassion that first led him into Starfleet.

Meanwhile, the Protostar crew’s infiltration ends in disaster as Ascencia captures them and prepares to feed them to a captive Loom. Janeway, Chakotay, Wesley, and the Doctor launch a daring rescue mission, freeing not only the young heroes but also the imprisoned Loom itself.

At the same time, Ilthuran finally fulfills the destiny history intended for him.

He openly calls upon the Vau N’Akat people to reject Ascencia’s rule.

Civil war erupts across Solum.

One of the finale’s most satisfying character moments belongs to Janeway herself. Faced with a choice between rigidly obeying the Prime Directive or preventing a galactic catastrophe, she once again chooses compassion over bureaucracy.

She’s reminded that courage isn’t exclusive to youth.

Sometimes experience means knowing exactly when the rules must bend.

Ascencia, realizing she’s losing control of Solum, launches her final plan.

An entire fleet equipped with temporal weaponry attacks major Federation installations simultaneously, threatening to shatter the balance of power across the Alpha Quadrant.

The climax splits nearly every major character into distinct but interconnected missions.

While Voyager-A and the Protostar desperately engage Ascencia’s fleet, Wesley, Rok, Zero, and Maj’el work together to calculate the precise temporal equations needed to reopen the wormhole leading back to Tars Lamora.

Elsewhere, Dal, Gwyn, Jankom Pog, Murf, and Ilthuran beam directly onto Solum to seize control of Ascencia’s temporal technology from within.

The emotional center of the finale belongs to Gwyn.

After spending two seasons trying to define herself apart from her father’s mistakes and Ascencia’s manipulation, she finally confronts her enemy directly.

The battle isn’t won through superior strength alone.

As the other Vau N’Akat rally behind Gwyn, they literally lend her their strength, symbolizing that she’s become the leader capable of uniting her fractured people where both the Diviner and Ascencia failed.

Elsewhere, Murf receives one final heroic moment by destroying Ascencia’s newest Drednok, allowing Dal and Jankom enough time to activate the wormhole.

The collapsing temporal rifts consume Ascencia’s fleet, eliminating the threat and saving the Federation.

Victory lasts only moments.

The wormhole releases the Loom.

Now freed in overwhelming numbers, the creatures begin consuming reality itself.

The solution brings the series beautifully full circle.

The Protostar must once again become the key to repairing history.

Launching the ship into the wormhole while Voyager-A provides cover, the crew completes the temporal loop that began back in Season 1.

The Protostar arrives safely on Tars Lamora exactly where Dal and the others would discover it one year earlier, finally closing the paradox that has driven the entire series.

With the timeline restored, the Loom retreat to their own dimension, no longer drawn toward a damaged reality.

It’s an exceptionally satisfying ending because the story doesn’t simply erase the paradox, it demonstrates that every sacrifice, every friendship, and every lesson along the way was necessary to create the future that always existed.

Peace finally follows.

Janeway personally leads Starfleet’s official first-contact mission with the Vau N’Akat, fulfilling the Federation’s ideals through diplomacy rather than conquest.

Before departing once more, Wesley leaves Dal with one final cryptic message: “The universe still needs this group together. Not because of what they’ve already accomplished… but because of “things yet to come. Wondrous and terrible things.”

It’s classic Star Trek optimism mixed with just enough mystery to suggest that the adventure never truly ends.

Wesley also receives a quieter, deeply personal epilogue as he reunites with Dr. Crusher, and she introduces him to his half-brother, Jack. After years existing largely outside of time itself, it’s a touching reminder that family remains one of Star Trek’s most enduring themes.

Chakotay assumes permanent command of Voyager-A, while Janeway finally retires from active service or so she hopes. The series then makes one last, surprisingly bold leap. It catches up with the opening of Star Trek: Picard Season 1. The Protostar crew officially enters Starfleet Academy just as preparations begin for First Contact Day. For a brief moment, it feels as though they’ve finally reached the peaceful future they’ve spent two seasons fighting for.

Then history intervenes.

Mars’ planetary defense network is compromised, rogue Synths devastate the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards, and thousands of ships are destroyed. The catastrophe forces Starfleet to abandon much of its exploratory mission, redirecting enormous resources toward defense and scrapping the Romulan evacuation crisis.

Janeway herself is reluctantly recalled to active duty, despite having only just retired, because Starfleet suddenly finds itself desperately short of experienced commanders. Rather than ending on tragedy, however, “Prodigy” closes with renewed hope.

Recognizing the extraordinary growth of its young heroes, Janeway unveils a brand-new Protostar-class vessel: the USS Prodigy.

Instead of simply becoming cadets waiting for assignments, Dal, Gwyn, Rok, Jankom Pog, Zero, Murf, and Maj’el receive field commissions to the rank of ensign. The ship itself becomes a training vessel designed specifically for them a chance to continue learning while doing what Starfleet does best: exploring.

Perhaps the most fitting moment comes from Dal.

Back in the pilot, he declared himself captain simply because nobody else could stop him.

Now, after everything he’s experienced, he voluntarily steps aside.

Recognizing Gwyn’s strengths, he hands her the captain’s chair and chooses to serve proudly as her first officer.

It’s the perfect conclusion to his character arc. The boy who once equated leadership with authority has learned that true leadership sometimes means following the right person.

One final familiar face joins the crew.

With the original training hologram gone, Holo-Janeway returns in a new role as the USS Prodigy’s Emergency Command Hologram, ensuring that the wisdom which guided these young officers from the very beginning continues into their future.

The series ends the only way a Star Trek series truly should.

Not with the defeat of a villain.

Not with the resolution of a mystery.

But with a starship setting course for the unknown.

The USS Prodigy heads out on its first mission of exploration, carrying a crew that began life as forgotten prisoners in a Delta Quadrant mine and ended as Starfleet officers ready to seek out new life and new civilizations.

As a finale, it’s remarkably effective because it understands what Star Trek has always been about. Every generation of the franchise has asked audiences to imagine a better future. “Prodigy” goes one step further by asking how that future is built: through curiosity instead of fear, cooperation instead of prejudice, and young people willing to inherit the ideals of those who came before them while making them their own.

For a series originally marketed as an entry point for younger viewers, it ultimately became one of the purest expressions of what Star Trek has always stood for, and a fitting way to celebrate six decades of boldly going.

REVIEW

When “Star Trek: Prodigy” was first announced, I was indifferent at first. A CG-animated Star Trek series aimed at younger audiences sounded like a unique direction for the franchise. By the time it concluded, however, it had not only won me over, it became my favorite series of the modern Star Trek era and one of the finest entries in the franchise as a whole.

What surprised me most wasn’t that “Prodigy” was a good “kids’ show.” It was that it was simply great Star Trek.

One of the first things that stands out is just how gorgeous the series looks. The animation from Mikros Animation is nothing short of spectacular. Rather than chasing exaggerated cartoon stylization, the studio created a universe that feels cinematic. The USS Protostar is one of the most beautiful starship designs introduced in decades, planets feel genuinely alien, space battles have a scale rarely seen even in the live-action shows, and the expressive character animation allows emotional scenes to land just as effectively as the action. It’s arguably the best-looking animated Star Trek production ever made.

The music deserves equal praise. Michael Giacchino’s soaring main theme perfectly captures the sense of wonder and optimism that has defined Star Trek for nearly sixty years, while Nami Melumad’s underscore consistently elevates every episode. Her score effortlessly shifts between adventure, comedy, suspense, and heartfelt emotion while remaining unmistakably Star Trek. There are moments where the music alone recalls the spirit of the franchise’s golden years.

The voice cast is equally exceptional. Brett Gray carries the series as Dal R’El, transforming what could have been an insufferably arrogant protagonist into someone whose gradual growth feels completely earned. Ella Purnell gives Gwyn tremendous dignity and vulnerability, making her one of the franchise’s strongest new characters. Jason Mantzoukas tones down his usual manic comedic style just enough to make Jankom Pog hilarious without becoming exhausting, while Rylee Alazraqui gives Rok-Tahk remarkable warmth and innocence. Angus Imrie delivers perhaps the most quietly emotional performance of the cast as Zero, whose journey of identity and self-discovery becomes one of the show’s highlights, while Dee Bradley Baker somehow makes Murf one of the most lovable characters in Star Trek despite speaking almost entirely in unintelligible noises.

Season 2 also introduces Michaela Dietz as Maj’el, and she quickly becomes a welcome addition to the ensemble. What begins as a by-the-book Vulcan cadet who sees Dal’s crew as undisciplined outsiders gradually develops into one of their closest allies and a great distaff counterpart to Nick Locarno, making her arc one of the season’s quiet successes. It’s also a lovely touch that her name is Maj’el, an unmistakable tribute to Majel Barrett, the “First Lady of Star Trek,” whose contributions to the franchise as Number One (or Una Chin-Riley), Nurse Chapel, Lwaxana Troi, and the longtime voice of the Federation computer, are impossible to overstate. Naming an idealistic young Starfleet officer after Barrett feels entirely appropriate.

The villains are equally memorable. Jameela Jamil brings chilling confidence to Ascencia, making her feel calculating without descending into cartoonish evil, while John Noble gives the Diviner/Ilthuran exactly the kind of gravitas the role demands. Noble especially shines as the Diviner slowly transforms from an intimidating antagonist into one of the franchise’s more tragic figures.

The returning Star Trek actors feel less like celebrity cameos and more like meaningful continuations of their characters. Kate Mulgrew somehow manages to make Adm. Janeway and Holo-Janeway feel like two distinct individuals while honoring everything fans loved about Kathryn Janeway. Robert Beltran finally receives material worthy of Chakotay, giving the character more emotional depth than he arguably received during much of “Voyager”. Robert Picardo slips effortlessly back into The Doctor, Ronny Cox returns as Adm. Jellico without reducing him to a caricature, Wil Wheaton gives Wesley Crusher the mature continuation fans had long hoped to see and he becomes Star Trek’s equivalent of The Doctor (yes, that guy or gal), Gates McFadden warmly reprises Dr. Beverly Crusher, and Billy Campbell proves that Thadiun Okona has a fanbase (who knew?).

Perhaps the series’ most touching tribute comes in “Kobayashi.” Using archival recordings, the show respectfully brings back Leonard Nimoy’s Spock, James Doohan’s Scotty, Nichelle Nichols’ Uhura, and René Auberjonois’ Odo. Rather than feeling exploitative, it feels like a heartfelt salute to performers whose contributions helped define Star Trek itself.

That episode also perfectly illustrates why “Prodigy” succeeds where several other modern Star Trek series struggled.

The fan service feels earned.

Instead of constantly pointing at familiar faces, ships, or dialogue simply to remind audiences of better-known stories, “Prodigy” uses its callbacks to serve the narrative. “Kobayashi” isn’t just an excuse to parade legendary officers across the screen. Its primary purpose is to introduce younger viewers to the Kobayashi Maru and teach Dal the lesson that leadership isn’t about always finding a way to win. The returning characters enhance that lesson rather than distract from it.

The same philosophy carries throughout the series. The Doctor jokingly comparing the Protostar crew to the “disfunctional officers on the Cerritos” is a delightful nod to Lower Decks without stopping the story dead in its tracks. Seeing a humpback whale in Cetacean Ops aboard Voyager-A similarly rewards longtime fans while naturally expanding the universe rather than shouting, “Remember this?”

Likewise, “All the World’s a Stage” is one of the franchise’s best love letters to its own history. On the surface it’s a sequel to TOS episode “Obsession.” But it’s also impossible not to see it as an affectionate tribute to Galaxy Quest. The Enderprizians, with their sincere admiration for Starfleet and imperfect attempts to emulate it, echo the Thermians in all the right ways. The episode celebrates the inspirational power of Star Trek itself without ever feeling self-congratulatory.

Even the finale sneaks in one last piece of franchise-savvy humor. In “Ouroboros Pt. II,” Adm. Jellico remarks how Starfleet’s resources have become so stretched by recent events that personnel are once again using the old DS9/Voy-era combadges. Within the story, it’s a perfectly reasonable consequence of the Federation dealing with multiple crises at once. Behind the scenes, though, it’s a wonderfully self-aware wink from the production team. After spending their budget creating updated character models for Jellico, Janeway, Chakotay, and the young cast, they cleverly justified reusing existing combadge assets with an in-universe explanation. It’s exactly the kind of practical production joke Star Trek has always excelled at: acknowledging the realities of television production while making it feel like authentic world-building.

That’s ultimately what separates “Prodigy” from much of the other shows in the Discovery Era.

Too often, modern Star Trek treated nostalgia as an end in itself. Familiar faces, famous starships, and iconic dialogue would appear simply because audiences recognized them. “Prodigy” consistently asks a better question: Why does this callback matter to these characters? When the answer is “because it helps them grow,” the nostalgia becomes storytelling rather than decoration.

Ironically, despite being one of the strongest Star Trek series in years, “Prodigy” received perhaps the worst treatment of any show in the franchise.

Paramount Plus didn’t simply cancel it before its second season had even premiered. The company made the baffling decision to remove the entire series from its own streaming service during a tax write-down, making it inaccessible to new viewers just as positive word of mouth was beginning to spread. The fallout extended beyond the show itself, with Wil Wheaton ending The Ready Room, a companion series for all Star Trek shows that had become an enjoyable celebration of the franchise and its fans.

Thankfully, Netflix rescued Season 2 and gave audiences the opportunity to actually see the (alleged) conclusion the creative team had already completed. For that, fans should be grateful.

Unfortunately, Netflix ultimately chose not to continue the series beyond those episodes. Worse still, after allowing its licensing agreement to expire, “Star Trek: Prodigy” once again found itself without a streaming home. It’s difficult to think of another modern television series that has been so enthusiastically praised by critics and fans alike, only to become so strangely difficult to watch.

That’s a shame, because “Star Trek: Prodigy” deserves to be seen.

It succeeds as an introduction for newcomers, a satisfying continuation for longtime fans, a thoughtful coming-of-age story, and one of the purest expressions of Gene Roddenberry’s optimistic vision in decades. It remembers that Star Trek isn’t defined by phasers, starships, or references to older episodes. It’s defined by hope, curiosity, compassion, and the belief that people can become better tomorrow than they are today.

For a series that began with six frightened children escaping a prison colony, that’s a fitting message.

The show does have DVD and Blu-Ray release with Season 1 being released in two volumes and Season 2 being released complete. I’d say get them while you can, cause they’re likely to become expensive in the years to come.

If you don’t plan on buying well… Yo ho ho and avoid the Gum-Gum.

RANK: 5 out of 5

Next, I’m still on a space kick, so next time another cancelled sci-fi series

Ranger Spotlight: Top 10 Favorite Power Rangers Time Force Episodes

Go over time and space

Twenty‑five years ago, “Power Rangers Time Force” burst onto television with a bold mix of sci‑fi ambition, grounded character drama, and emotional storytelling that pushed the franchise to new heights. Revisiting the season today, it’s clear why it remains one of the most beloved entries in the series: complex characters, serialized arcs, and themes of destiny, choice, and redemption that still resonate.

To honor this milestone anniversary, I’m counting down the Top 10 Episodes of Time Force, the stories that defined the season, elevated the franchise, and continue to spark discussion among fans. These aren’t just great Power Rangers episodes; they’re great television.

10. Lovestruck Rangers – A comedic romp with surprising emotional depth, “Lovestruck Rangers” sees Lucas, Trip, and Wes all falling for the same mysterious woman—each for different reasons. When their infatuation starts causing friction, Jen orders them to stop seeing her. But Wes continues secretly meeting her, prompting Jen to investigate… and discover the truth: the woman is actually Contemptra, a mutant manipulating the Rangers with a control bracelet.

With the guys compromised, it’s up to Jen and Katie to break Contemptra’s hold. Jen destroys the bracelet, freeing the team and capturing the mutant.

The episode also marks the first major exploration of Jen and Wes’s romance. Wes is immune to Contemptra’s natural charm (because he already likes Jen) forcing Contemptra to brainwash him harder than the others. Jen’s jealousy when Wes teases her about Contemptra’s human form hints that her feelings are growing too.

There’s even a fun Sentai nod: Time Robota, a secondary robot ally from Timeranger, appears as an invention created by “Angelique” to seduce Trip. This episode is also the 400th episode of the Power Rangers franchise, and Contemptra is voiced by Valerie Vernon (Kendrix from “Lost Galaxy”).

9. Uniquely Trip – Trip begins doubting his worth to the team and tries imitating the others, only to make things worse. When Ransik unleashes Electropede, a mutant who drains the Rangers’ weapons, Trip finally embraces his own strengths and invents the Electro Booster, allowing Wes to defeat the monster.

Later, Trip rescues a group of kids with the Time Jet. Earlier, they refused to play as him during their Ranger games, but after seeing his bravery, they declare him their favorite. It’s a sweet, validating moment.

A fun bit of trivia: one of the rescued kids is a young Britt Robertson, years before “Avalon High” and “Tomorrowland.”

8. A Parting of Ways – When Tentaclaw kidnaps children for ransom, Wes asks his father for help. Mr. Collins refuses then casually writes a check for the same amount to businessmen. Furious, Wes steals the money to save the kids, only for the villains to betray him. After the Rangers rescue the children, Wes returns the money and makes a life‑changing decision: he leaves home to live with the Rangers in the Clock Tower.

This is the turning point in Wes’s arc, his moment of independence, where he rejects his father’s worldview and chooses his own path.

The episode also debuts the Time Force Megazord Jet Mode, and features rare partial use of a different episode of “Timeranger”, other than the main counterpart’s fight footage. Much of the footage from Flamecon’s episode was too violent for American broadcast, so only the Megazord fight was used.

7. Nadira’s Dream Date – One of the season’s funniest episodes, this story begins when Nadira mistakes Lucas’s poem about his racecar for a love poem about her. She instantly falls for him, and Ransik (terrifying mutant crime lord) becomes an overprotective, doting father determined to ensure Lucas treats her well.

The comedy is gold: Ransik hiding in bushes, cueing Lucas on what gifts to give, Ransik showing up in the middle of a battle to order Chameliacon and the Cyclobots not to hurt Lucas while the Rangers look on confusion as the villains protect one of them.

The chemistry between Michael Copon (Lucas), Kate Sheldon (Nadira), and Vernon Wells (Ransik) absolutely makes the episode. The next season’s team‑up implies Nadira still has feelings for Lucas (and he may reciprocate) much to Ransik’s (and Max’s) annoyance. It’s also hinted Lucas helped keep Nadira out of cryo‑prison.

6. Trust and Triumph – After failing to stop Nadira from robbing a bank, Jen begins doubting Wes’s reliability. Things worsen when Turtlecon traps the Rangers in another dimension, forcing them to battle evil clones of themselves. Only by trusting each other can Wes and Jen break free and save the team.

Jason Faunt and Erin Cahill deliver standout performances here, capturing frustration, vulnerability, and eventual unity.

As mentioned previously, the episode’s Timeranger counterpart originally aired before Naoto/TimeFire’s debut, so Eric only appears briefly in the cold open to taunt Wes.

This episode marks a major shift in Jen’s character: She becomes less strict, she stops being haunted by Alex’s “death”, and she begins fully trusting Wes. We also learn Jen nearly quit Time Force as a rookie until Alex helped her through it, making her trust in Wes even more meaningful.

5. Future Unknown – After Mr. Collins fails to defend Silver Hills with the Raimei Tank, the Rangers search for 21st‑century weapons that could help them with the fight… Only to discover that some technology exists because of Ransik’s attacks. Their presence is altering the future.

This revelation shakes Katie, who fears for her family’s safety in the timeline they left behind. Meanwhile, Frax unleashes Vexicon from the newly introduced X‑Vault, a secret chamber holding the most dangerous mutants. This is one of only three Katie‑focused episodes, and Deborah Estelle Phillips shines here as Katie grapples with fear, hope, and responsibility.

A small continuity slip occurs when Circuit claims he has no info on the Raimei because it was created due to timeline changes, despite earlier dialogue stating Bio-Lab had been in development for twenty years.

This episode was also heavily censored after 9/11, with scenes of a helicopter crashing into a building removed from all future broadcasts.

4. Trip Takes a Stand – Ransik releases Notacon, expecting a dangerous criminal, but discovers he’s gentle and harmless. Frax tries to control him, but Notacon escapes, only to be met with fear and hostility from humans.

Trip learns Notacon was frozen for stealing vegetables because he was hungry and discriminated against. Notacon wants to return to the vault, believing the world will never accept him. Then Eric arrives determined to destroy Notacon simply because he’s a mutant. Trip stands up to Eric, Frax, and the world’s prejudice to protect Notacon and return him safely to containment, even if that meant revealing his Xybrian nature.

Power Rangers has done “good monster” episodes before, but this one hits harder. It confronts discrimination directly and parallels Ransik’s own backstory of being mistreated. It also continues to develop Eric’s character, by revealing underneath the tough exterior is someone who’s lonely, and was willing to (albeit reluctantly) help save Notacon.

Kevin Kleinberg and Dan Southworth deliver some of their strongest performances of the season.

3. The Quantum Quest – Researchers uncover a mysterious artifact: the Quantum Controller. Ransik recognizes it immediately and sends Brickneck to retrieve it. The Rangers try to secure it first, but Eric swoops in, steals it, and hides it away. Rejected for a leadership promotion, Eric returns to the Controller just as Brickneck attacks again. Wes pleads with him to hand it over, but Eric activates it instead, becoming the Quantum Ranger.

Eric’s debut is one of the best Sixth Ranger introductions in the franchise. Unlike most Sixth Rangers, he doesn’t join the team. His suit is red with black in place of the white, mirroring Wes, emphasizing their rivalry. Dan Southworth’s performance is electric and badass.

Also, as a weird, yet neat Easter egg: early in the episode, we see Nadira sobbing over the ending of Masked Rider, a tongue‑in‑cheek nod to a show once planned as a Power Rangers spin‑off and for all intents and purposes is technically still canon.

2. Destiny Defeated – Choosing just one episode from the Destiny Saga was tough, but the finale of the arc stands out for its action, drama, and emotional payoffs.

Alex returns, alive and rigidly authoritarian, creating friction with the team. Wes takes over Bio‑Lab but hates it. Eric considers leaving Silver Hills. Dragontron overwhelms the Rangers. Then Wes learns from Dr. Zaskin that his father was proud of him, proud he forged his own path. This revelation pushes Wes back into the fight.

Alex loses the team’s trust, even Jen’s. Wes returns, Jen convinces Alex to hand over the morpher, and the Rangers defeat Dragontron with a wild plan involving riding the Q‑Rex. Mr. Collins nearly dies, but Alex saves him with future tech. Humbled, Alex returns to the future, finally accepting Wes’s belief that destiny is a choice.

Jason Faunt is phenomenal here, both as Wes and as Alex. His silent breakdown at the hospital is one of the season’s most powerful moments.

This episode also marks the final appearance of Eric’s friend Alice and his pet birds, aired five days after Thuy Trang’s passing, and was the last episode before 9/11.

1. The End of Time Pts 1-3 – Yes, I’m cheating, but these three episodes form one perfect narrative, much like finales from “Gravity Falls” or “Avatar: The Last Airbender.” They deserve to be treated as a single story.

Ransik prepares his final assault. Alex orders the Rangers back to the future, warning that time travel may soon be impossible. Wes knows his friends can’t stay and sends them home. Meanwhile, Nadira begins to see humanity differently after helping deliver a baby. Wes and Eric finally resolve their issues and defend Silver Hills together. In the future, the Rangers refuse to have their memories erased and choose to return to help Wes choosing their own destinies. The Rangers return and defeat Doomtron, destroying the last remnants of Frax. Ransik, in a rage, accidentally injures Nadira and a baby she rescued. Horrified, he surrenders, something no Power Rangers finale villain had ever done (at least, willingly).

Jen and Wes confess their feelings but must part ways. Wes becomes co‑commander of the Silver Guardians with Eric, after Mr. Collins reveals they’re going to do nonprofit work.

The finale wraps up nearly every major arc beautifully. Except for Gluto, but he was a pretty pointless character anyway. Wes and Jen’s relationship continues in the next season’s team‑up. Ransik and Nadira’s redemption also continues there.

The episode ends with a preview of Wild Force and featured an early version of the theme that I feel is a bit better than than one we got.

This finale is also technically the end of the Saban Era. While Saban produced Wild Force, Disney already owned the franchise by then, and was more of a transitionary season.

Power Rangers Time Force isn’t just a great season; it’s a landmark in the franchise. Its themes of destiny, choice, prejudice, redemption, and love give it a depth rarely seen in children’s television. Its characters grow, change, and confront real emotional stakes. Its finale remains one of the strongest in Power Rangers history.

Twenty‑five years later, the season still resonates. And these ten episodes, funny, dramatic, heartfelt, and bold show exactly why.

Honorable Mentions:

Movie Madness Pts 1 and 2
The Time Shadow
Something to Fight For
Circuit Unsure
Force from the Future
The Last Race
Quantum Secrets

Next, we head off to space!

Obsession Non-Spoiler Review

He deals in witchcraft/and one kiss and I’m zapped/Oh how can heaven hold a place for me/When a guy like you has cast a spell on me?

Independent horror has long been a proving ground for ambitious filmmakers, and “Obsession” is the latest example of what can be achieved when talent, creativity, and vision outweigh budgetary limitations. Made for only $750,000, the film never feels constrained by its modest resources. Instead, writer-director Curry Barker demonstrates a remarkable command of atmosphere, visual storytelling, and tension, delivering a horror film that feels far more expensive than its budget would suggest.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its direction, particularly in its use of lighting. Barker understands how to use light and shadow not only to create mood, but also to reinforce character development. Early on, Nikki is frequently framed in muted, yet natural lighting, emphasizing her normalcy and grounded nature. As the story progresses and darker forces begin to take hold, the visual language shifts dramatically. The transformation is most apparent with the emergence of what fans will undoubtedly refer to as “Freaky Nikki.”

The behind-the-scenes work deserves special recognition. Through a combination of aging makeup effects and irises painted over her eyelids, the filmmakers create an appearance that becomes deeply unsettling in low-light scenes. The result places Nikki squarely in the Uncanny Valley. In some of the film’s darkest moments, her face appears almost inhuman, with seemingly glowing black eyes that linger in the viewer’s memory long after the scene ends. It’s a simple concept executed with impressive effectiveness, and it speaks to Barker’s understanding of how horror often works best through suggestion rather than excess.

If “Obsession” is any indication, Curry Barker has a bright future ahead of him as a horror director. His ability to maximize every dollar, build suspense, and create genuinely disturbing imagery suggests a filmmaker whose best work may still be ahead of him.

The cast is equally impressive across the board.

Michael Johnson delivers a strong performance as Bear, a hopeless romantic whose motivations initially seem sympathetic. Johnson plays the role with enough sincerity that audiences can understand where Bear is coming from. However, as the film unfolds, viewers may find themselves growing increasingly frustrated (or even outright angry) with him. It’s a challenging balancing act, and Johnson handles it remarkably well.

Cooper Tomlinson is excellent as Ian, Bear’s supportive best friend. Tomlinson brings a natural likability to the role that makes him easy to root for, though there are hints throughout the film (especially in rewatch) that there may be more going on beneath the surface than first appears.

Megan Lawless also shines as Sarah, providing another grounded and supportive presence within the story. Like Tomlinson, she helps anchor the film’s more fantastical elements with a believable and relatable performance.

Still, the film ultimately belongs to Inde Navarrette.

Navarrette delivers the standout performance of “Obsession,” convincingly portraying two drastically different versions of Nikki. On one side is a down-to-earth, genuinely kind young woman whose warmth feels authentic and effortless. On the other is an obsessive, childish alternate personality seemingly conjured by the One Wish Willow. What makes Navarrette’s work so impressive is how she balances subtlety and theatricality. She never overplays either version of the character, yet she fully commits whenever the story demands something larger and more unsettling.

Her portrayal of the obsessive counterpart is particularly memorable. The character is horrifying not because she feels like a monster, but because she remains believable. Navarrette makes the transformation feel emotionally grounded even as it becomes increasingly disturbing, creating a villainous presence that is both frightening and strangely tragic. Which is all ironic considering, she isn’t a huge fan of horror.

Beyond its horror elements, “Obsession” can also be viewed as a deconstruction of the classic “Nice Guy” archetype. Popular culture has given audiences countless romantic leads who eventually win affection through persistence, characters such as Ted Mosby, Ross Gellar, Mordecai, or Fry. Bear stands in stark contrast to that tradition. Rather than serving as another idealized romantic underdog, he functions as something closer to an antithesis of the trope, forcing viewers to examine assumptions often embedded within those kinds of stories. The film is at its most interesting when it explores those themes and challenges audience expectations.

By the time the credits roll, “Obsession” has accomplished something many horror films strive for but few achieve: it remains genuinely thought-provoking while still delivering memorable scares. Speaking of: if you do see it, watch on a light stomach, there’s some graphic stuff here.

Whether the film ultimately breaks into major awards conversations remains to be seen, but many viewers (including myself) are already hoping to see recognition come awards season. Not the kind of chintzy recognition like the MTV Movie Awards (assuming they’re still around), but serious consideration from major institutions. At the very least, Inde Navarrette deserves to be part of that conversation. Her performance is the kind of work that elevates an entire film, and if there is any justice in the awards race, she and “Obsession” itself, will receive attention from prestigious organizations such as the Academy Awards.

“Obsession” is an impressive achievement in independent horror filmmaking, a showcase for a talented cast, and a compelling statement from a filmmaker with tremendous potential. Horror fans should absolutely keep both Curry Barker and Inde Navarrette on their radar moving forward.

Next, Ranger Spotlight returns, as we pay tribute to Time Force for its 25th anniversay.

Comix Zone: Archie 2015 Pt. 2

From this moment, everything will change.

When I started revisiting the 2015 Archie relaunch, I wildly underestimated just how much there was to unpack. What I’d intended as a single, tidy retrospective quickly ballooned into something far more sprawling, dense with character work, long-running emotional threads, and tonal shifts that reward close attention but demand space to breathe. Rather than rush through it and do the series a disservice, I decided to break the project into three parts, both for my own sanity and to give each phase of the run the focus it deserves.

This second part zeroes in on what feels like the “last” chapter of the relaunch in spirit, if not quite in publication terms. Here, I’ll be looking at the two major story arcs that define the back half of the series: “Over the Edge” and “The Heart of Riverdale.” These arcs crystallize many of the themes the book had been circling since issue #1: identity, emotional maturity, and the cost of trying to hold onto youth while the world keeps insisting on change. They also mark a noticeable shift in scope and tone, as the series leans harder into consequence and community, moving beyond love triangles and high-school drama without abandoning them entirely.

I’ll also touch on the final five issues before the title reverted to legacy numbering, though only in broad strokes here. Those chapters serve as a hinge point, simultaneously wrapping up the modern Archie experiment and gesturing toward what comes next. We’ll dig much deeper into that transition, and what it says about the relaunch as a whole, in Part Three.

With that said…

PLOT

Issue #18 opens Volume 4 by immediately contrasting two relationships moving in very different directions. Archie kicks things off by using a RydeCar service to pick Veronica up for a date, a small but telling detail that reflects both convenience and distance. At the same time, Dilton Doiley attempts to take Betty to the science museum, only to find it closed. Rather than derailing the outing, the setback leads to an unexpectedly genuine connection, as the two bond over a shared interest in cars.

Elsewhere, Cheryl and Jason Blossom rope Jughead into their latest scheme. They promise to cover his tab at Pop’s for two months if he can uncover why their father is hiding the family’s wealth. Jughead, never one to overcomplicate things, takes a direct approach: he simply asks Mr. Blossom outright. The result is immediate and unsurprising; Mr. Blossom slams the door in his face. Jughead, however, considers the attempt sufficient and cheerfully declares that the Blossoms still owe him those burgers.

Back on Archie and Veronica’s date, the cracks in their relationship become increasingly visible. As Veronica talks about her time in Switzerland and Archie rambles about the Chicago Cubs’ World Series victory, their conversations never quite connect. They’re speaking, but not really communicating, highlighting how much they’ve drifted apart despite being physically together again.

In contrast, Betty and Dilton’s evening improves. They head to an auto show and genuinely enjoy themselves, their easy chemistry standing in sharp relief to Archie and Veronica’s awkwardness. Even a run-in with a pushy, unpleasant vendor while browsing tires doesn’t derail their mood for long.

The issue closes by intercutting the two pairs. Betty and Dilton head home on a high note, with Dilton nervously asking if she’d like to go out again—and Betty happily agreeing. Meanwhile, Archie and Veronica end their night by insisting that nothing is wrong between them, even as the silence between their words says otherwise.

Issue #19 continues to unravel (and tentatively rebuild) Archie and Veronica’s relationship, while pushing the Blossom subplot into far more dramatic territory.

The issue opens with another failed attempt at romance. Archie and Veronica miss a local balloon festival after Archie forgets to check his tires, and when they finally arrive, the event is rained out anyway. The double disappointment only underscores how out of sync they’ve become. When Archie drops Veronica off, the distance between them is impossible to ignore and Hiram Lodge notices. Ever the strategist, he decides not to confront the situation directly, but instead to quietly introduce Veronica to more “suitable” alternatives.

That plan takes shape when Hiram informs Veronica she’ll be judging a teen achievement award. When she shares the news with her friends, Jughead immediately recognizes it for what it is: a setup. Meanwhile, Archie, discouraged and withdrawn, retreats to Bolling Woods to go camping. Jughead tracks him down and, in his own blunt way, convinces Archie that giving up on Veronica without a real fight isn’t the answer.

At the ceremony, Veronica quickly realizes Jughead was right, all of the nominees are carefully curated suitors handpicked by her father. The manipulation pushes her to make a statement. Just as Archie and Jughead arrive, Veronica subverts the entire event by awarding the prize to Jughead instead. The act breaks Hiram’s control over the situation and, more importantly, rekindles something genuine between her and Archie. For the first time in a while, their connection feels natural again.

The issue ends by pivoting sharply back to the Blossom family. Frustrated with their situation, Cheryl and Jason confront their father, demanding to know why they’re still in Riverdale. In the heat of the argument, Mr. Blossom lets something slip, something far more explosive than anything before: he isn’t actually their father. The revelation lands like a bombshell, closing the issue on a note that promises major consequences ahead.

Issue #20 kicks off the “Over the Edge” storyline with a sharp tonal shift, moving the series from interpersonal drama into something far more dangerous and immediate. Archie opens the issue with a blunt admission: he hates Reggie Mantle. Not in the exaggerated, comedic way of earlier stories, but with genuine frustration over Reggie’s constant bullying, especially when Archie himself is the target.

Trying to focus on something constructive, Archie teams up with Betty to restore his grandfather’s car, a 1969 Mach 1 Cobra Jet. The project becomes a temporary refuge, and the scenes of the two working together echo the easy chemistry they once had. Veronica joins them for a test drive, but the moment is undercut almost immediately when the car sputters out, Archie forgot to put gas in it. It’s a small mistake, but emblematic of his current state: distracted, unfocused, and trying to juggle too much.

In a parallel plot, Cheryl and Jason continue digging into the mystery of their father, uncovering a stash of letters from a prison inmate, another breadcrumb suggesting that their family history is far more complicated than they’ve been told.

Back with Archie and Betty, the car troubles turn out to be more serious. While inspecting it, Betty identifies an issue with the fuel line and gets to work fixing it. That’s when Reggie arrives, accompanied by his friend Jerry, and escalates things dramatically. He challenges Archie to a drag race, raising the stakes with a personal threat: if Archie refuses, Reggie will expose how poorly he’s been performing on the football team to Veronica.

After hours of effort, Betty finally gets the car running. But instead of sharing the moment with her, Archie (anxious, pressured, and reckless) takes off to meet Reggie, leaving Betty behind and deeply hurt. When Jerry later shows up and tells her about the race, Betty immediately realizes how dangerous the situation is and races after them.

What follows is the turning point of the arc. As the drag race unfolds, Betty approaches from the opposite direction, trying to intervene. The situation spirals out of control in seconds: the cars lose control, collide violently, and one of them crashes through a guardrail and plunges into a ravine. The issue ends abruptly, replacing the series’ usual emotional tension with raw, physical stakes and making it clear that the consequences this time won’t be so easily walked back.

Issue #21 continues “Over the Edge” by widening the scope of the crisis, showing how the fallout from the crash ripples across Riverdale. Rather than picking up directly at the scene, the issue fragments into a series of vignettes, each one ending the same way: with a phone call that pulls another character into the unfolding emergency.

Jughead’s segment opens at Pop’s, where his ever-growing tab has finally caught up with him. Pop refuses to serve him anything else unless he pays, prompting Jughead to offer his services as a waiter. True to form, he ignores every order and insists on serving everyone hamburgers anyway. He even manages to wrangle a complimentary burger for himself, only to receive a call mid-bite and sprint out before he can finish it, an uncharacteristically abrupt exit that signals something is seriously wrong.

Elsewhere, Raj and Sheila are sneaking into the school to shoot scenes for Raj’s movie when they’re caught by Mr. Weatherbee. Just as he’s about to discipline them, he receives a call of his own and immediately drops everything, rushing out without explanation. The pattern repeats with Veronica, who is in the middle of a bizarre but telling interaction with her father, trying to convince “him,” while he pretends to be a car executive, to manufacture a Tesla (ugh) in Persian indigo. When she finally lands on an argument he approves of, he reveals he’s already had one made for her. The moment is cut short by the same kind of call, sending Veronica racing out the door.

Dilton’s scene provides a brief moment of levity before the emotional collapse. He’s testing a prototype helmet designed to help Betty study, using Moose as his test subject. Moose pretends the device has made him dumber, only to reveal he’s joking, right before Dilton receives the call. The humor evaporates instantly as the two rush to the hospital.

The threads finally converge there, where the truth is revealed: Betty was the one involved in the crash, and her condition is critical. Surrounded by friends and family, the tone shifts fully into crisis mode as her heart flatlines. Even the defibrillator fails to revive her, ending the issue on one of the darkest, most uncertain cliffhangers in the entire run.

Issue #22 brings “Over the Edge” and Volume 4 to a close by slowing everything down and focusing on what Betty means to the people around her. Picking up directly from the previous issue’s cliffhanger, the story unfolds almost entirely in and around the hospital as doctors fight to revive her, while friends and family are left waiting and remembering.

Each memory serves as a small, intimate snapshot of Betty’s impact. Alice recalls Betty as a baby, unable to sleep, and how Hal managed to make her laugh, bringing a rare moment of calm to an otherwise exhausting night. Veronica’s memory is quieter but no less meaningful: after being pushed away by other students, Betty offered her a simple kindness, giving her a soda free of charge and expecting nothing in return. Mr. Weatherbee reflects on a moment during detention when Betty corrected him on the new superintendent’s name, sparing him embarrassment; in return, he let her leave early, a small acknowledgment of her thoughtfulness.

Archie’s memories carry the most weight. He thinks back to when Betty first moved to Riverdale, their childhood meeting, their shared history, and the relationship that grew from it. Unlike the others, his recollection isn’t just about a single act of kindness, but about a lifetime of connection, reinforcing just how central Betty has always been to his world.

Against this emotional backdrop, the doctors finally succeed: Betty is revived. The relief is immediate but short-lived. As her parents gather around her, Betty delivers the devastating truth: she can’t feel her legs.

The arc closes not with resolution, but with a shift in stakes. The danger has passed, but the consequences remain, transforming what began as a reckless act of teenage bravado into something permanent, and leaving Riverdale to grapple with what comes next.

Issue #23 begins Volume 5 and “The Heart of Riverdale” by refusing to soften the aftermath of Betty’s accident. Picking up moments after the previous issue ended, the doctors explain to Betty’s parents that she may be permanently confined to a wheelchair. The news devastates Alice and Hal Cooper, while Archie is crushed under the weight of his own guilt. Hal, unable to process his fear and anger, openly blames Archie for what happened, turning Archie’s private self-loathing into something painfully external.

Desperate to do something meaningful, Archie proposes that their friends (and Riverdale itself) come together to show Betty how much she means to them. The group responds by dividing up all of Betty’s volunteer responsibilities, attempting to carry on the kindness and support she routinely gave others. Archie insists on helping everyone at once, but his trademark clumsiness repeatedly sabotages his efforts, reinforcing his growing belief that he only makes situations worse.

At the hospital, Archie visits Betty alongside her parents and receives a slightly more hopeful medical explanation. The doctors reveal that there is no direct trauma to Betty’s spinal cord. Instead, the paralysis is likely tied to contusions on her brain, leaving open the possibility (however slim) that she could recover. Even so, they caution that it remains unlikely she will leave the wheelchair behind. The ambiguity offers hope without comfort, keeping everyone emotionally suspended between optimism and despair.

Trying again to contribute, Archie prints flyers for a candlelight vigil in Betty’s honor. True to form, disaster strikes when the flyers scatter everywhere before he can distribute them properly. Convinced he’s failed yet again, Archie retreats to the park, emotionally exhausted and feeling utterly useless. Veronica finds him there and offers quiet comfort, grounding him when he’s at his lowest.

The issue closes on one of the series’ gentlest emotional turns. Archie and Veronica discover that, despite the chaos, the flyers were found. One by one, dozens of people from around Riverdale arrive for the vigil, their presence proving that Betty’s kindness has touched far more lives than she ever realized and that Archie’s efforts, imperfect as they are, still mattered.

Issue #24 continues “The Heart of Riverdale” by examining the long, painful reality that follows tragedy once the initial shock fades. Betty is still confined to a wheelchair, but she returns to school far sooner than anyone expected, determined not to let the accident completely define her life. At home, the Coopers begin remodeling their house to accommodate her new needs, visually reinforcing how permanent the changes to her life suddenly feel.

The emotional fallout spreads well beyond Betty herself. Hal confronts Fred and bluntly states that, because Archie was involved in the drag race, he no longer wants any contact between the Cooper and Andrews families. Archie, meanwhile, has been grounded for a month, trapped at home with his guilt. Reggie’s situation is even worse: he’s under house arrest and potentially facing jail time. In a particularly cruel twist, Richard Mantle’s newspaper begins publishing stories demonizing his own son, despite one of the paper’s reporters openly pointing out the hypocrisy.

At school, Riverdale’s students rally around Betty by organizing fundraisers to help the Cooper family. Betty thanks everyone warmly and insists they shouldn’t worry about her, continuing to prioritize other people’s comfort over her own. The facade cracks once she’s back home. Wondering why Archie hasn’t visited, Betty asks Hal about him. Rather than admit he’s forbidden contact, Hal simply tells her Archie is grounded.

Alone in her room, Betty attempts to stand up from her wheelchair, loses her balance, and breaks down crying, a raw, private moment that strips away the optimism she presents to everyone else. It’s one of the issue’s most devastating scenes because it happens entirely away from public view, revealing the fear and frustration she refuses to show.

The issue closes with Archie finally taking action in the only way he feels he can. During a family meeting, Fred announces his intention to sell the Mustang involved in the crash. Archie reveals he already sold it himself and wants to give the money to the Coopers, a decision his parents fully support. When Archie brings the check to Betty’s house, however, Hal slams the door in his face before he can see her.

Archie still finds a way to reach out. Before leaving, he draws a heart in the condensation on Betty’s window. From inside, Betty sees it, and smiles. It’s a small gesture, but one that perfectly captures the emotional core of the arc: even separated by anger, guilt, and pain, the connection between Archie and Betty remains impossible to completely erase.

Issue #25 continues “The Heart of Riverdale” by tightening the emotional pressure around Archie, Betty, and Veronica, while also bringing the Blossom family mystery back into the foreground in a surprisingly dark way.

The issue opens with Archie and Veronica playing golf, but even in a setting designed for relaxation, the strain between them is obvious. Archie can’t stop talking about Betty, her recovery, her feelings, her situation and Veronica finally admits her frustration. To her, it feels like every conversation inevitably circles back to Betty instead of focusing on them, highlighting how deeply the accident has altered the dynamics of Archie’s relationships.

Meanwhile, Betty spends time with Jughead in her backyard, leading into one of the issue’s warmest flashbacks. Jughead recalls when Hot Dog was hit by a car years earlier, and how Betty stayed overnight with him at the veterinarian’s office so he wouldn’t have to be alone. The memory reinforces what the entire arc has been emphasizing: Betty’s kindness isn’t performative or situational, it’s fundamental to who she is.

Back in the present, Jughead decides enough is enough and comes up with a plan to help Betty secretly reconnect with Archie. At the same time, Reggie’s storyline takes a darker turn. Now in jail, he encounters an inmate who turns out to be Cheryl and Jason’s biological father. Recognizing the significance immediately, Reggie tells the man about his children, threatening to pull the Blossom family secrets violently into the open.

Jughead then visits the Cooper house and, while casually helping himself to their food, bluntly tells Alice and Hal that it’s unfair to keep Betty away from Archie. Hal storms out in anger, but Alice is notably quieter and more receptive, hinting that the united parental front may be beginning to crack.

The plan succeeds later that evening when Toni secretly escorts Archie behind the school, where Betty is waiting. Their reunion is subdued and careful rather than romantic. Betty admits that not only would her father be furious if they were caught meeting, but her mother would be upset too. Archie stresses that they absolutely cannot let anyone find out about this.

Unfortunately, Veronica overhears only that final part without context. The issue ends on that misunderstanding, setting up another painful emotional collision just as Archie and Betty begin cautiously reconnecting.

Issue #26 pushes “The Heart of Riverdale” into full emotional confrontation territory, with misunderstandings finally boiling over into direct ultimatums.

The issue opens with Veronica still furious after overhearing Archie and Betty’s secret conversation, convinced that Archie has resumed a romantic relationship with Betty behind her back. Unaware of the extent of the damage, Archie continues catching Betty up on everything she’s missed while recovering. Their conversation is interrupted when Hal suddenly appears, forcing Archie to narrowly avoid being seen. Hal wheels Betty away, only to notice Jughead watching nearby with clear disapproval, prompting him to storm off angrily once again.

Elsewhere, Dilton repairs Toni’s moped, and the conversation naturally turns toward Betty. Toni encourages him to finally be honest about his feelings instead of quietly orbiting around her, giving Dilton the push he’s needed all along.

Later, Archie and Betty reconnect and wonder aloud why Veronica hasn’t answered any of Archie’s attempts to contact her. Their search leads them to Pop’s, where they walk in on Veronica openly flirting with Jason. The scene detonates immediately into an argument, and Archie eventually leaves the diner with Betty, further reinforcing Veronica’s suspicions.

Veronica soon regrets the confrontation and catches up with Archie outside. Archie finally pieces together what happened: she overheard his conversation with Betty and completely misunderstood it. But Veronica’s issue goes deeper than the misunderstanding itself. She tells Archie that, regardless of context, she can still see how deeply he cares about Betty, more deeply than “just friends.” Rather than continue existing in emotional limbo, Veronica demands clarity and asks Archie to choose.

In parallel, Betty meets with Dilton, who finally confesses his feelings outright. He asks her a similarly direct question: does she want him as a boyfriend, or only as a friend?

The issue deliberately mirrors the two conversations. As Veronica forces Archie to confront his unresolved feelings, Dilton asks Betty to define hers as well. Both protagonists arrive at the same crossroads simultaneously, ending the chapter with emotional certainty no longer avoidable.

Issue #27 brings “The Heart of Riverdale” to an emotionally mature and surprisingly restrained conclusion, resolving the central romantic tension while emphasizing that healing, both physical and emotional, isn’t something that happens overnight.

The issue picks up immediately after Veronica and Dilton ask Archie and Betty to choose between them and the lingering feelings of the past. Before either conversation can fully resolve, both Betty and Veronica are abruptly pulled away by their parents to separate obligations (Betty to a doctor’s appointment, Veronica to piano lessons) an interruption that fittingly reflects how outside pressures have continually shaped their relationships throughout the series.

Archie is left emotionally adrift, while Dilton buries himself in projects to avoid thinking about Betty’s answer. Toni later checks in on him and, sensing his disappointment, encourages him not to give up entirely and to ask Betty to the spring dance anyway. Meanwhile, Archie spends the night desperately texting Veronica, trying to find the right words.

The next morning shifts perspective to Veronica, who quietly cries while packing away her keepsakes from her relationship with Archie. In a deeply selfless moment, she tells Hermione that what she really wants is for Archie and Betty to be happy, signaling a major emotional evolution from the possessive jealousy that defined much of her earlier arc.

Still uncertain, Archie turns to Jughead for advice. Jughead responds in classic fashion by flipping a coin, but before it can land, Archie blurts out the truth he’s been avoiding. He chooses Betty. The coin toss works not because it decides for him, but because it forces him to confront what he already knows.

Archie immediately worries about how he’ll explain this to Veronica, only to arrive home and discover the box of mementos she has already returned. Realizing she’s effectively made the choice for him, he rushes to Betty’s house. There, however, he finds Dilton arriving with a thoughtful gift: a pair of souped-up crutches designed to help Betty regain mobility. Archie awkwardly hides in the bushes and witnesses a pivotal moment, Betty greeting Dilton while walking unsupported, revealing she’s made tremendous progress in her recovery.

Betty gently tells Dilton that she only wants to be friends, and though heartbroken, he accepts it with quiet dignity. Archie then finally speaks with Betty, but the reunion doesn’t resolve into an easy romantic payoff. Instead, Betty stops things before they can fully begin, explaining that Archie is still carrying overwhelming guilt about the accident, and that they can’t move forward until he truly deals with it. It’s a remarkably grounded conclusion, refusing to treat romance as a magical solution to trauma.

After Betty heads back inside, Archie and Dilton decide to hang out, sharing a quiet moment of companionship rather than rivalry. The issue (and effectively the emotional core of the relaunch’s first major era) then closes with Archie breaking the fourth wall once more, recapping the entire journey from Issue #1 onward. The retrospective framing emphasizes how much the characters have changed since the Lipstick Incident first shattered their world.

But the comic isn’t finished yet. A final prologue sets the stage for the climax of Mark Waid’s run. Reggie’s father, Richard Mantle, enters his office to find Reggie sitting on his desk. Richard has drained the family savings to keep Reggie out of jail, and Reggie, bitter and opportunistic, proposes a way to recover: expose the Blossom family’s criminal past and sell the story to Riverdale. The final page pivots the series away from romance and back toward scandal, reminding readers that Riverdale’s calm never lasts for long.

Issue #28 opens Volume 6 and acts as a breather after the emotional intensity of “The Heart of Riverdale,” while quietly positioning all the pieces for the larger conflict to come.

With the Spring Dance approaching, Archie finds himself in an unusual position: he has no date. Betty and Veronica are both effectively unavailable, and every attempt he makes to ask someone else ends in disaster thanks to his trademark bad luck. Rather than dwelling on it, Jughead encourages him to stop obsessing over dating altogether and focus on something else for a change. It’s simple advice, but it reflects how much Archie’s life has revolved around his romantic entanglements over the course of the series.

Elsewhere, Betty and Veronica have a surprisingly mature conversation about both Archie and the dance. Betty is perfectly comfortable attending alone and doesn’t see the event as a referendum on her relationship status. Veronica, however, feels trapped by her social image; as Riverdale’s resident celebrity, she believes showing up without a date would become a topic of discussion. Their solution is unexpectedly sweet: instead of competing over Archie, they decide to attend together, emphasizing how much their friendship has grown since their earliest clashes.

At Riverdale High, Mr. Weatherbee inspects preparations for the dance and is pleasantly surprised to find everything running smoothly—even though Archie has been involved in the setup. The joke works because Archie’s history of accidental destruction has become so well established that mere competence now feels like an achievement.

Meanwhile, the darker subplot involving Reggie continues to escalate. Richard Mantle is furious that Reggie refuses to hand over the Blossom family story for free. Rather than cooperate, Reggie sneaks out of the house and embarks on a reckless spending spree using his parents’ money. By the end of the issue, he settles on a more dramatic plan: he’ll attend the Spring Dance and publicly reveal the Blossom family’s secret himself.

The final scene shifts to prison, where Eddie Sheers (the biological father of Cheryl and Jason) reflects on the consequences of telling Reggie the truth. Speaking with his cellmate, Eddie admits that involving Reggie may have been a mistake. Fearing an impending prison transfer, he becomes determined to see Cheryl and Jason before it’s too late.

While the issue initially presents itself as a lighthearted dance story, its closing pages make it clear that the Spring Dance is being positioned as a collision point. Archie is worried about dates, Betty and Veronica are redefining their friendship, Reggie is preparing a public bombshell, and Eddie Sheers is desperate to reconnect with his children. All of those threads are now moving toward the same event.

Issue #29 continues building toward the Spring Dance while steadily increasing the tension surrounding the Blossom family mystery, balancing classic Archie comedy with the sense that something much more serious is approaching.

The issue opens with Archie trying to stay positive despite his ongoing romantic frustrations. If he can’t have a date for the Spring Dance, he reasons, at least he’ll be performing at it. That optimism quickly evaporates when he realizes he can’t find his guitar anywhere. What follows is a classic Archie sequence, as he tears through Riverdale searching for the missing instrument and turning a relatively minor problem into an all-consuming quest.

Meanwhile, Reggie continues his suspicious campaign of good behavior. Claiming he’s turned over a new leaf, he volunteers to help Dilton set up the dance’s audio equipment. Neither Moose nor Mr. Weatherbee trusts him for a second, and with good reason. Reggie’s real objective is to ensure that every speaker in the gym is functioning perfectly so that, when the time comes, everyone will hear his planned announcement exposing the Blossom family’s secrets.

Cheryl and Jason, now aware of Reggie’s intentions, confront him directly. Having been cut off financially, they no longer have money or influence to leverage against him, and their threats carry little weight. Worse, Reggie now actively resents them, making him even more determined to follow through.

Archie’s search eventually leads him and Jughead to Dilton’s house, where they discover Dilton attempting the near-impossible task of teaching Moose how to dance. The visit proves productive, however, as they finally locate Archie’s missing guitar. It turns out Fred had loaned it to Dilton for maintenance and tuning, solving the mystery in a characteristically mundane fashion.

The issue’s most important developments center on the Blossoms. Cheryl and Jason finally confront their parents and demand the truth about their biological father. Penelope, with little choice left, tells them the story she has spent years hiding. Before marrying the wealthy Clifford Blossom, she had been involved with Eddie Sheers. When Eddie was arrested, she abandoned him and built a new life with Clifford. Even from prison, however, Eddie remained a threat, tracking her down and extorting money from the family over the years.

Penelope’s warning is clear: whatever Cheryl and Jason do, they must stay away from Eddie.

The problem is that events have already moved beyond anyone’s control. In the issue’s closing pages, readers learn that Eddie has escaped from prison and is actively searching for his children. The revelation transforms the Blossom storyline from a family scandal into a genuine threat, ending the chapter with a sense of danger unlike anything the relaunch has attempted before.

Issue #30 serves as the final piece of setup before the climax of Mark Waid’s run, gathering nearly every major character and storyline into one location while maintaining the relaunch’s trademark blend of comedy, romance, and looming drama.

The issue opens with Archie attempting to convince both the reader and himself that preparing for his performance at the Spring Dance is not a way of distracting himself from his unresolved love life. The comic immediately undercuts him when his usual clumsiness strikes and he somehow manages to tie his hand to a doorknob. It’s a classic Archie moment: earnest determination repeatedly sabotaged by his own inability to avoid disaster.

Elsewhere, the spotlight falls on Moose and Toni, who are each out to dinner with their respective dates before the dance. Neither outing goes well. Moose’s date, Janet, decides he doesn’t meet her standards and storms off, while Toni’s date becomes upset over feeling ignored and leaves in tears, forcing Toni to chase after her. Left alone, Moose strikes up a conversation with the restaurant’s waitress, Midge. The issue reveals that Moose has secretly wanted to ask Midge out for quite some time but was too afraid of rejection. With both of their evenings suddenly free, the two decide to attend the dance together, finally moving a long-running Archie relationship into place.

Meanwhile, Reggie’s subplot continues to escalate. Richard confronts his son over stealing both his car and his wallet, but Reggie fires back by reminding his father that he’s repeatedly treated him like a parasite. The confrontation only deepens the gulf between them. Richard remains obsessed with Reggie’s information about the Blossom family, but Reggie refuses to share it. He has no intention of letting anyone else profit from the story because he’s planning to reveal everything himself at the Spring Dance. After the argument, he steals his father’s car again, having secretly made a duplicate key.

At Riverdale High, preparations for the dance are nearly complete. Mr. Weatherbee reflects fondly on the countless school dances he’s overseen throughout his career, a nostalgic moment that almost ends disastrously when Archie accidentally knocks over one of the decorative pillars. He manages to catch it before it causes any real damage, another example of the issue repeatedly flirting with catastrophe without quite tipping over the edge.

Archie’s real problem emerges when he arrives on stage and discovers that his planned musical performance is falling apart. Jughead informs him that the scheduled band can’t make it—and, hilariously, many of the reasons trace back to various accidental mishaps Archie caused. Forced to improvise, Jughead secures a replacement at the last minute: Josie and the Pussycats.

By the issue’s conclusion, all the major players have arrived. Betty and Veronica attend together, reflecting how far their friendship has come. Reggie enters carrying his explosive secret. Moose and Midge arrive as a newly formed couple. Cheryl and Jason are present, unaware of exactly how close their family history is to being exposed.

And then comes the final ominous note: Eddie Sheers, the escaped convict and biological father of Cheryl and Jason, also arrives at the dance.

What initially seemed like a typical Spring Dance issue ultimately functions as a convergence point. Nearly every storyline from the previous volumes Archie’s love triangle, Reggie’s resentment, the Blossom family mystery, Betty’s recovery, and Eddie’s search for his children is now gathered under one roof, poised to collide. The stage is set for the finale.

Issue #31 marks the point where the finale stops teasing danger and fully commits to it. What begins as a celebratory Spring Dance issue rapidly transforms into the highest-stakes chapter of the entire relaunch, trapping virtually every major character in a hostage situation.

The issue opens on a relatively upbeat note, with Archie finally taking the stage alongside Josie and the Pussycats. He even shares vocals with Valerie, creating one of the relaunch’s rare moments where Archie appears completely confident and in his element. Watching from the audience, Betty and Veronica react wistfully, a reminder that despite all the drama of the previous volumes, neither relationship has fully settled into a clear future.

Elsewhere in the gym, quieter developments continue to unfold. Mr. Weatherbee and Ms. Grundy share a conversation in which Weatherbee reveals that he’s planning to retire. Given how central he has been to Riverdale High’s identity throughout the series, the revelation carries surprising emotional weight and serves as a reminder that change is coming for everyone, not just the student cast.

Meanwhile, Cheryl and Jason continue their usual arrogance by mocking Moose’s date, Midge. In a satisfying reversal, Midge immediately fires back with insults of her own directed at the twins’ dates, proving she has no intention of being intimidated by them.

Unnoticed by almost everyone, however, the real threat is already moving into position. Eddie Sheers quietly locks the gym’s exits one by one, transforming the dance from a celebration into a trap.

The turning point arrives when Reggie decides it’s finally time to unveil the Blossom family secret. He storms the stage and grabs the microphone, intending to expose Cheryl and Jason in front of the entire school. Before he can say much of anything, though, Eddie intervenes.

In a brilliant twist, Reggie loses control of his own scoop.

Eddie takes the microphone and reveals the truth himself: he is Cheryl and Jason’s biological father, and he is also an escaped convict. Panic immediately spreads through the gym. Students attempt to shield Cheryl and Jason from him, but that resistance collapses the moment Eddie pulls out a gun.

The scene is particularly effective because Cheryl and Jason completely misread what’s happening. Eddie orders Cheryl to contact her mother and transfer money into his account, while Jason is instructed to contact Clifford Blossom and arrange for a helicopter. Rather than recognizing themselves as hostages, the twins become excited by what they perceive as the beginning of a glamorous criminal adventure. Their naïveté prevents them from understanding the very real danger they’re in.

Amid the chaos, Archie does what Archie always does when people are in trouble: he acts first and worries later. Sneaking back onto the stage, he attempts to stop Eddie by smashing him with his guitar. It’s exactly the kind of impulsive, heroic, and poorly thought-out plan that defines Archie throughout the run.

Unfortunately, it fails.

Eddie catches him before he can land the blow and forces him back into line, leaving the students trapped, the adults powerless, and Riverdale High completely under the control of an armed fugitive. By the end of the issue, the Spring Dance has become a full-scale hostage crisis, and the relaunch finds itself in the most serious situation it has tackled since the series began.

Issue #32 concludes both the hostage crisis and, effectively, Mark Waid’s initial run on Archie, ending on a note that celebrates the cast, the town, and the relationships that have defined the relaunch from the beginning.

The issue opens with Eddie Sheers still in control of the gym, holding the students and faculty hostage while his plans continue to unravel. In one of the chapter’s more humorous moments, Toni asks Kevin whether his upbringing on military bases means he knows how to handle a hostage situation. Kevin immediately shoots down the idea, explaining that growing up around soldiers does not magically make him an action hero.

As the standoff continues, Eddie finally drops any pretense of fatherly concern. He bluntly tells Cheryl and Jason that their mother’s pregnancy “ruined everything” and openly admits that he never came to reconnect with them. They’re simply leverage, hostages he can use to escape. It’s a cruel revelation, but one that finally forces the Blossom twins to recognize the reality of the situation.

With direct confrontation proving too dangerous, Archie’s friends devise a plan that perfectly fits the series’ tone: weaponize Archie’s bad luck.

Veronica coordinates the operation by texting everyone in the gym. The students simultaneously raise their phones and begin playing a video, creating a distraction designed to pull Eddie’s attention away from the crowd. Betty then gives Archie his role in the scheme. He’s supposed to reach the stage and strike a deafening guitar chord, disorienting Eddie long enough for someone to act.

The joke, of course, is that Betty’s real plan isn’t the guitar. She expects Archie’s legendary clumsiness to accidentally trigger one of the countless hazards surrounding the stage and somehow incapacitate Eddie in the process.

For perhaps the first time in the entire run, Archie is too careful.

As he crosses the gym floor, he successfully avoids every dangling decoration, unstable prop, and potential disaster Betty was counting on. Instead of causing chaos, he arrives at the stage completely unharmed and completely ineffective. Before he can do anything, Eddie notices him and points the gun directly at him.

The rescue ultimately comes from two unexpected heroes.

First, Mr. Weatherbee creates a distraction, drawing Eddie’s attention away from Archie. Then Reggie steps forward. Grabbing the guitar himself, Reggie slams out the deafening chord, causing Eddie to drop the gun. Reggie immediately seizes the weapon and hands it to Weatherbee, while Cheryl and Jason finally turn on Eddie, beating him down and tying him up.

It’s a fitting resolution because it requires the entire cast to contribute. Archie inspires the plan, Veronica organizes it, Betty devises it, Weatherbee creates the opening, Reggie takes the risk, and the Blossoms finish the job.

In the aftermath, the students reunite with their terrified parents. Reggie, fresh off his unexpected heroic moment, gives an interview in which he expresses hope that Riverdale might finally forgive him for the drag-racing accident. He also pointedly notes that he hopes his father won’t exploit this new tragedy for personal gain, showing a level of self-awareness and maturity that would’ve been unthinkable at the start of the series.

Mr. Weatherbee receives his own small epilogue. After spending much of the evening contemplating retirement, he decides against it. As long as Archie Andrews is still attending Riverdale High, life is never going to be boring.

The final pages function almost as a mission statement for the entire relaunch. There are no dramatic declarations, no shocking twists, and no last-minute romantic resolutions. Instead, Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Veronica leave together for Pop’s, returning to the simple friendship at the heart of the franchise. As Mr. Weatherbee turns off the lights at Riverdale High, the series closes not with an ending, but with the feeling that these characters’ lives will continue long after the reader has turned the page.

For a run that began with the mystery of the Lipstick Incident and spent thirty-two issues exploring heartbreak, change, friendship, and growing up, it’s an appropriately understated conclusion. The final image isn’t about who Archie chooses or which relationship wins. It’s about Riverdale itself and the idea that, no matter what happens, the core four will always find their way back to one another.

Next, the thrilling conclusion of New Riverdale. But first a quick look at the greatest horror movie ever made.

Mortal Kombat II Non-Spoiler Review

Video game movies have had a rough history, but “Mortal Kombat” has always been one of the few franchises that at least understood what fans wanted: over-the-top action, iconic characters, and unapologetic fun. With “Mortal Kombat II”, the series finally delivers the adaptation longtime fans have been waiting for.

Before diving into the sequel itself, it’s worth looking back at the franchise’s cinematic history.

The original ’95 “Mortal Kombat” is still a favorite for good reason. Despite being held back by a PG-13 rating and some CG effects that definitely show their age today, it captured the spirit of the games surprisingly well. The casting worked, the soundtrack became legendary, and the movie embraced the tournament structure that fans loved.

Then came “Mortal Kombat: Annihilation”, which unfortunately went in the opposite direction. While it tried harder to cram in game lore and characters, it sacrificed storytelling and quality in the process. The visual effects were noticeably worse, the pacing was chaotic, and it often felt more focused on checking off references for hardcore fans than making a genuinely entertaining movie for general audiences.

The 2021 reboot was a major improvement. It leaned fully into its R rating and embraced being gloriously dumb fun. The fights were brutal, the fatalities were satisfying, and the movie finally gave audiences the blood-soaked spectacle the franchise deserved. It wasn’t perfect, but it understood the assignment.

“Mortal Kombat II” builds on that foundation and, in many ways, becomes the most faithful adaptation of the games yet.

One of the sequel’s smartest decisions is fully embracing the tournament format (they would’ve last time, if Shang Tsung didn’t interrupt the). The inclusion of an actual scoreboard tracking wins and losses between Earthrealm and Outworld sounds like a small detail, but it adds tension and authenticity that fans of the games will immediately appreciate. The movie also recreates several iconic stages with impressive accuracy, making many fights feel like classic arcade matches brought directly to life.

Another welcome improvement is the removal of the Arcana system introduced in the reboot. For many, the idea that characters needed a mystical unlock mechanic to explain their powers felt unnecessary and overly complicated. Mortal Kombat II wisely ditches that concept entirely. The film’s writer, Jeremy Slater even likened it to Midichlorians from the Star Wars Prequels.

The returning cast remains one of the franchise’s biggest strengths. Jessica McNamee continues to shine as Sonya Blade, bringing both toughness and charisma to the role. Ludi Lin gives Liu Kang a stronger presence this time around, while Mechad Brooks once again delivers as Jax. Tadanobu Asano remains a commanding Raiden, and Chin Han continues to make Shang Tsung both manipulative and entertaining.

The ninja rivalry also remains a major highlight. Joe Taslim brings a chilling presence to Noob Saibot, while Hiroyuki Sanada once again steals scenes as Scorpion.

The newcomers fit into the universe surprisingly well. Adeline Rudolph makes an excellent Kitana, balancing elegance and danger. Karl Urban is exactly the kind of cocky, smug energy Johnny Cage needs, and he quickly becomes one of the movie’s standouts. Tati Gabrielle brings intensity to Jade, while Martyn Ford looks physically imposing enough to make Shao Kahn feel like a genuine threat.

And then there’s Kano.

Just like in the last movie, Josh Lawson remains the comedic MVP of the franchise. Nearly every scene he’s in lands a laugh without undercutting the movie’s action. Surprisingly, CJ Bloomfield also emerges as an unexpected comedic highlight as Baraka, adding some memorable lines that help balance the film’s darker tone.

That said, “Mortal Kombat II” isn’t without problems.

The biggest issue is easily the handling of Cole Young. Killing him off feels like a strange decision, especially considering how central he was to the reboot. Even stranger is how quickly the Earthrealm champions move on from his death. The emotional fallout barely lasts more than a few minutes before the movie pushes ahead. It also results in noticeably reduced screentime for Lewis Tan, making his presence feel oddly minimized. That being said, he at least goes out on a high note.

The movie also wastes some potentially interesting development involving Sindel and Shang Tsung. There are brief hints that both characters may have ambitions beyond simply serving Shao Kahn, but those ideas never receive enough exploration to truly matter. Considering the political scheming and betrayals that define much of Mortal Kombat lore, it feels like a missed opportunity.

Another divisive element is the reveal that Quan Chi appears here and can revive fallen fighters after death. Yeah, this is absolutely faithful to the games, but it also weakens the stakes of the movies considerably. Mortal Kombat works best when every fight feels final and dangerous. Once resurrection becomes an option, some of the urgency disappears.

Still, despite its flaws, “Mortal Kombat II” succeeds where it matters most. It delivers brutal action, embraces the games unapologetically, improves on the reboot’s mythology, and finally gives fans a tournament-focused story that feels authentically “Mortal Kombat”. It may not be perfect, but it’s easily the closest the franchise has come to capturing the true spirit of the games on the big screen.

And honestly, hearing the small crowd erupt during several of the film’s biggest moments proves one thing: this franchise finally found its fatality.

Next, we finally return to the normal world of Riverdale, and continue the deep dive of Archie 2015.

The Super Mario Galaxy Movie Non-Spoiler Review

Get hooked again!

When “The Super Mario Bros. Movie” released back in 2023, it honestly exceeded expectations. After decades of Nintendo fans being haunted by the infamous live-action adaptation, finally getting an animated Mario movie that actually felt like Mario was a huge win. It respected the games, embraced the colorful insanity of the Mushroom Kingdom, and gave audiences a genuinely fun family adventure. Most importantly, it proved that Nintendo could make the jump to modern blockbuster filmmaking successfully.

That said, the biggest issue with the first film was its pacing. At just over 90 minutes, it often felt like the movie was sprinting through its story. Characters barely had time to breathe before the next set piece arrived. It was entertaining, but it also felt a little too small for a universe as massive as Mario’s.

“The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” fixes that problem in one major way: it goes big. Sometimes absurdly big.

Visually, this might be Illumination’s best-looking movie yet. The cosmic settings inspired by the “Super Mario Galaxy” games are gorgeous, packed with vibrant nebulae, gravity-bending landscapes, and some genuinely creative action sequences. The animators clearly had fun translating the strange physics and dreamlike atmosphere of the games into a cinematic format. From tiny planetoids to massive starships, nearly every frame is overloaded with detail and Nintendo references.

The returning voice cast continues to work surprisingly well together. Chris Pratt and Charlie Day still have strong chemistry as Mario and Luigi, while Anya Taylor-Joy gives Peach the same confident energy that made her stand out in the first movie. Keegan-Michael Key remains one of the franchise’s comedic highlights as Toad, and Jack Black once again steals nearly every scene he appears in as Bowser.

The newcomers are solid additions too. Brie Larson brings a calm, mysterious tone to Rosalina, while Benny Safdie gives Bowser Jr. enough chaotic energy to instantly fit into the series.

But the real surprise here is Glen Powell as Fox McCloud. Yes, Fox McCloud. It still feels surreal seeing a full-blown “Star Fox” character interacting with Mario characters on the big screen, but Powell completely commits to the role. Even if his inclusion feels random from a story perspective, he brings an energetic action-hero vibe that makes the crossover weirdly entertaining.

The movie is also packed with Nintendo fan service. Beyond references to Mario games, there are nods to franchises like Star Fox and Pikmin, plus a genuinely hilarious cameo from R.O.B. that longtime Nintendo fans will absolutely appreciate.

Another major improvement is the score. Brian Tyler returns as composer, and this time the soundtrack leans far more heavily into actual Nintendo music. Themes from the Galaxy and various other Mario (and Star Fox) games are tied together throughout the orchestral score beautifully, giving the movie a much stronger emotional identity. Thankfully, the film also cuts back significantly on the pop-song overload that distracted from several scenes in the first movie.

Unfortunately, while the movie looks and sounds fantastic, the story itself is even thinner than the first film’s. The plot mostly exists as an excuse to move the characters from one visually impressive set piece to another. There’s very little emotional depth, and the pacing once again rushes through potentially interesting ideas before they can develop.

Rosalina ends up being the biggest disappointment. Despite being heavily marketed as a major new character, she spends most of the movie filling a role that feels almost identical to Lugi’s from the previous film. Brie Larson does her best with the material, but the script never fully explores what makes Rosalina unique or compelling.

Fox McCloud’s inclusion is also a mixed bag. On one hand, it’s undeniably cool seeing Nintendo dip their foot into another flagship character (aside from Mario(. On the other hand, Fox has almost no real connection to Mario outside of Super Smash Bros, making his appearance feel more like setup for future projects than something that naturally belongs in this story. It also doesn’t help that Nintendo spoiled his appearance weeks before release, which robbed the reveal of what could have been one of the movie’s biggest surprises.

Then there’s the stunt casting of Donald Glover as Yoshi. The performance itself is honestly decent Glover does a surprisingly solid interpretation of Yoshi’s iconic sounds and mannerisms, but it still feels like casting designed more for headlines than storytelling.

Overall, “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” is a fun, visually impressive Nintendo blockbuster that succeeds most as a celebration of Nintendo history rather than as a truly great story. Fans of the games will probably have a blast spotting references, hearing familiar music, and watching these worlds collide on the big screen. But beneath all the dazzling animation and fan service is a movie that still struggles to build a meaningful narrative.

It may not reach the emotional heights of the games that inspired it, but as a giant, crowd-pleasing Nintendo space adventure, it’s hard not to have fun with it anyway.

Next, another video game movie, this one I have much more of a connection with.

Cancelled Cinema: Tales from the Crypt Presents – Dead Easy and Body Count

Frights, Camera, Hack-tion!

For this installment of Cancelled Cinema, we’re heading back into the crypt, literally. In the early 1990s, HBO’s “Tales from the Crypt” was riding high as one of the network’s biggest cult hits. Its mix of horror, dark comedy, and tongue-in-cheek morality tales (hosted by the delightfully ghoulish Crypt Keeper) made it a phenomenon that begged for expansion. Naturally, Hollywood saw franchise potential. Plans were drawn up for not just one film, but an entire “Tales from the Crypt” cinematic trilogy, with each movie serving as a self-contained horror story under the Crypt banner. The first two films on deck? “Dead Easy”, a supernatural tale set in New Orleans, then “Demon Knight”, a bottle episode-type movie following a group of boarders fighting demons with the help of a guardian protecting one of seven keys (this would’ve been the MacGuffin of the entire trilogy) and “Body Count”, an action-horror movie with a sci-fi twist.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. Instead of an interconnected trilogy, only two theatrical movies made it to theaters: “Demon Knight” was the start of the trilogy, followed by “Bordello of Blood” which was very, VERY, loosely connected to the previous movie (in that the key showed up a couple times), and the last movie, “Ritual”, limped out direct-to-video a decade later with only the faintest ties to the Crypt name. What happened to “Dead Easy” and “Body Count”? Why did the franchise’s cinematic ambitions collapse so quickly? Let’s dig in and uncover the twisted tale.

BACKGROUND

To understand what happened to Dead Easy and Body Count, we first need to look at how the “Tales from the Crypt” film trilogy was originally supposed to work and why those plans changed so quickly.

At the height of the HBO series’ popularity, Universal Pictures saw an opportunity to expand the brand into theaters, launching a planned trilogy of standalone horror films under the “Tales from the Crypt” banner. The idea was simple but effective: replicate what made the show a hit (grisly horror, dark comedy, and a rotating lineup of recognizable and future talent) on a larger, cinematic scale.

Producer Joel Silver was a major driving force behind this plan. He envisioned the trilogy as an extension of the show’s formula, where each movie would feel like a feature-length episode, complete with the same twisted tone and irreverent edge that audiences loved on TV.

Interestingly, the first film released, “Demon Knight”, wasn’t originally meant to kick things off. The initial plan had “Dead Easy” serving as the trilogy’s starting point. However, as development progressed, “Demon Knight” was pushed to the front of the line. The reason? It was considered the most “Crypt-like” of the scripts, leaning heavily into supernatural horror, featuring a clear battle between good and evil, and perfectly capturing the tone of the series.

Released in 1995, “Demon Knight” ended up being a modest success, both critically and commercially. It delivered exactly what fans expected: over-the-top violence, dark humor, and a strong ensemble cast, all wrapped in a story that felt like a natural extension of the HBO show. In many ways, it proved that the concept of a Crypt-branded film could work.

But behind the scenes, the reshuffling of the release order was already a sign that the trilogy wasn’t going according to plan. The fact that “Dead Easy”, once intended as the franchise’s foundation, was sidelined in favor of “Demon Knight” hinted at deeper creative and logistical issues that would soon derail the entire trilogy before it could truly get off the ground.

DEAD EASY/FAT TUESDAY

Following the release of “Demon Knight”, the next chapter in the planned trilogy was supposed to be “Dead Easy”. In fact, the intention was made explicit, “Demon Knight” even featured a post-credits scene with the Crypt Keeper announcing Dead Easy as the next installment, signaling that the franchise roadmap was already in motion.

Set in New Orleans and steeped in supernatural and Cajun elements, “Dead Easy” (which also went by Fat Tuesday) was reportedly much closer in tone to a traditional Tales from the Crypt episode, blending horror, dark humor, and a culturally specific backdrop that would have helped differentiate it from the more action-driven “Demon Knight”. By multiple accounts, the film actually made it quite far along, some sources even claim it was fully completed or near completion.

However, this is where things get murky and controversial.

According to longstanding reports, “Dead Easy” was originally conceived with a predominantly Black cast, which would have made it stand out not just within the Crypt lineup, but in the horror genre at the time. But during production, the cast was allegedly changed to be primarily white, based on the belief (held by studio executives) that a mostly Black cast wouldn’t be as commercially viable with mainstream audiences (that would be proven).

This decision reportedly created a major internal conflict. Producer Joel Silver was said to be uncomfortable with the implications of releasing a film that had been stripped of its original cultural identity for those reasons. Faced with the possibility of backlash and not wanting to be associated with a project that could be perceived as racially insensitive or discriminatory, Silver ultimately chose to shelve the film entirely. As a result, “Dead Easy” vanished almost overnight, despite being positioned as the trilogy’s next big entry.

Its cancellation not only derailed the original trilogy plan, but also marked the beginning of a pattern, where creative uncertainty, behind-the-scenes decisions, and shifting priorities would prevent the “Tales from the Crypt” movies from ever becoming the cohesive theatrical series they were meant to be.

With “Dead Easy” suddenly off the table, the producers began scrambling to figure out what the next “Tales from the Crypt” movie should be and in the process, several now-famous projects were briefly considered as potential entries in the series.

Among them was “From Dusk till Dawn”, based on a screenplay by Quentin Tarantino. Its mix of crime, horror, and dark humor made it a natural fit for the Crypt brand. Similarly, “The Frighteners”, directed by Peter Jackson, was also floated as a possible candidate thanks to its blend of supernatural elements and comedic tone. In the end, both films went on to be produced independently (in the latter’s case by the same studio as the Crypt movies), but their consideration shows just how flexible (and at times uncertain) the direction of the Crypt film series had become.

Behind the scenes, another major factor reshaped the franchise’s future: Robert Zemeckis. As one of the key creative forces behind Tales from the Crypt, Zemeckis was being courted by DreamWorks Pictures and was considering leaving Universal Pictures altogether. In an effort to keep him on board, Universal struck a deal: one that would directly impact the fate of the trilogy.

That deal led to the revival of “Bordello of Blood”, a script Zemeckis had originally written with Bob Gale back when the two were fresh out of college. The script was reworked to fit the “Tales from the Crypt” mold and fast-tracked into production as the second film in the series, effectively replacing Dead Easy in the lineup.

While “Dead Easy” never made it to theaters, it wasn’t entirely lost to time. In 2024, the script was brought back for a special live reading event, organized by original Crypt creatives Al Katz and Gilbert Adler, with support from the “Dads from the Crypt” podcast. The reading served as a fundraiser for the Motion Picture Fund and featured a notable cast, including Sean Astin, Jake Busey, Tia Carrere, Brett Cullen, Chelsea Rebecca, Leslie Zemeckis, and of course, John Kassir returning as the Crypt Keeper.

It was a rare chance for fans to finally experience a piece of the lost film (if only in spirit) and a reminder of just how close “Dead Easy” came to becoming a reality before being buried by circumstance.

BODY COUNT (AKA REDNECK FRANK)

The third and final planned entry in the original “Tales from the Crypt” trilogy was “Body Count” and of all the unmade films, this one remained the most obscure. For years, almost nothing was known about it beyond its title. But thanks to the Best Movies Never Made podcast, and insights from writer Adam Rifkin, fans finally got a clearer picture of what this lost project would have been.

Also known by its working title “Redneck Frank,” Body Count was a wild departure from the gothic and supernatural tones typically associated with “Tales from the Crypt”. Instead, it leaned into gritty, ultra-violent territory, blending horror with action in a way that almost feels ahead of its time.

The story centered on a Frankenstein’s monster–like figure named Frank, a brutal vigilante operating in El Paso. At first, he appears to be an unstoppable force of nature, dishing out violent justice to criminals in increasingly gruesome ways. Throughout the film, Frank is shown surviving what should be fatal injuries (getting shot multiple times, falling from great heights) only to get back up and keep going.

As the story unfolds, the truth behind his existence is revealed. Frank was once a criminal himself, killed during a botched crime. His body was later recovered and used in a secret government experiment aimed at creating super-soldiers. The project succeeded (sort of) bringing him back to life but leaving him as something no longer fully human.

The second half of the film would have shifted gears, with Frank turning against the very program that created him. As he uncovers the truth, he becomes a reluctant anti-hero, using his violent new existence to atone for his past sins while taking down the corrupt system responsible for his resurrection.

It’s a fascinating concept: part horror, part revenge thriller, part tragic character study, and easily one of the most unconventional ideas ever proposed for a “Tales from the Crypt” film. But like “Dead Easy”, “Body Count” never made it past development, leaving behind only fragments of what could have been a very different and very bold entry in the series.

Despite how little was initially known about “Body Count”, it actually made it further than you might expect. The film was greenlit and in development at the same time as “Bordello of Blood”, which had effectively taken “Dead Easy’s” place as the second entry in the planned trilogy. The idea was simple: if “Bordello” succeeded, “Body Count” would follow and round out the three-film lineup.

But that’s not how things played out.

When “Bordello” hit theaters, it underperformed both critically and commercially, failing to replicate even the modest success of “Demon Knight”. With that disappointment, confidence in the “Tales from the Crypt” cinematic brand quickly died. As a result, “Body Count” was quietly scrapped, and with it, the entire trilogy plan collapsed. What was once envisioned as a major horror franchise for Universal Pictures was effectively dead after just one proper installment and one misfire.

That might have been the end of the story, but nearly a decade later, the Crypt Keeper made an unexpected (and somewhat awkward) return.

CONCLUSION

Around seven years later internationally (and closer to ten in the US), a film called “Ritual” emerged. Originally conceived as a remake of “I Walked with a Zombie”, the project had nothing to do with Tales from the Crypt at all. It was developed as part of a deal between Dimension Films and RKO Pictures to remake several titles from latter’s classic film library.

However, during production and distribution, Dimension struck another deal, this time with the producers of “Tales from the Crypt” to act as the theatrical distributor for a potential revival of the film franchise. Rather than develop a brand-new film, they opted to retrofit “Ritual” into a Crypt movie.

This meant adding newly shot bookend segments at the last minute featuring the Crypt Keeper (voiced once again by John Kassir), framing the story in the familiar style of the HBO series. These segments weren’t included in the international theatrical prints in 2002, and the film wouldn’t see a proper U.S. release until 2006, when it was quietly distributed direct-to-video under the Tales from the Crypt banner.

The result was a strange epilogue to what could have been a major horror franchise. Instead of a cohesive trilogy, “Tales from the Crypt” on film became a patchwork of one successful debut, one underperforming follow-up, and a randomly tacked-on afterthought.

In the end, “Dead Easy” and “Body Count” remain two of horror’s more intriguing “what ifs”, ghosts of a franchise that never quite rose from the grave.

Come back next time and see a Sega/Sony fanboy geek out over something Nintendo related.

Arnold In April – Arnold’s Christmas

Hey, remember years ago when I did that Top 10 Christmas episodes list and this episode was number 1, and I said, I wasn’t going to spoil it, but then I did by accident. I’m sorry. I was writing it in the middle of the night, I was tired and in a mad rush to get it out. and I just slippled up.

PLOT

School is out for the kids of P.S. 118 due to the holidays and everyone is in a frenzy to go home. Phoebe and Helga then discuss what the two love most about Christmas. Phoebe says she enjoys how the city is transformed by the decorations, while Helga says she is only interested in how presents she’ll receive. They soon stop and Helga then reveals what she wants the most for Christmas: Nancy Spumoni Signature Snowboots. Unfortunately, Rhonda tells the greedy Helga that all stores in the city are sold out, but this does not deter Helga, who is determined that she will get those boots.

While exiting a store, Arnold asks Gerald what he is giving his family for Christmas, to which he says he is giving them all ties. Arnold then convinces Gerald that Timberly has no need for a tie considering she is a “4-year old girl.” Arnold then explains that every gift you give should be unique and should mean something. Convinced, Gerald decides to give Timberly a toy and his uncle the tie intended for his sister. As the two friends depart, Helga spots Arnold and goes on a mission to find the “perfect gift for her beloved.” Meanwhile at the boarding house, the boarders are assigned a Secret Santa (but have to draw again when Oskar tampers with the names as a “Christmas Joke”). Arnold’s Secret Santa is shown to be Mr. Hyunh, who is normally very forlorn during this time.

While engaging in a snowball fight, Gerald suggests to Arnold that he should get Mr. Hyunh a tie for his gift, but Arnold believes that is not “special” enough. So Gerald suggests that he should just ask him straight-up, to which Arnold agrees. Arnold is then awkwardly trying to find out what Mr. Hyunh wants for Christmas without exposing himself as his “Secret Santa.” Arnold soon hears the story about Mr. Hyunh’s lost daughter:

20 years ago, Mr. Hyunh lived in a small village in South Vietnam with his daughter named Mai. Despite his optimism, he was well aware of the war in the North growing closer and closer to his village, that he knew eventually the two had to leave home for a better life in America. During the mass chaos of refugees trying to escape the country, the U.S. soldiers could only make room for one more passenger on the helicopter. So Mr. Hyunh allowed Mai to escape to America for a better life, separating the family indefinitely. According to Mr. Hyunh, it took him about 20 years for him to immigrate to America and specifically chose this city since he heard the soldier say that he was taking Mai to that specific city. Unfortunately, the two have yet to meet and Mr. Hyunh’s only desire is to see his daughter again to know that she is safe and happy.

Meanwhile, Helga is in a toy store ready to buy a skateboard for Arnold, only for Stinky to sadly say that Arnold already has that type of skateboard and hopes Helga’s Christmas doesn’t bite. Arnold and Gerald attempt to locate Mai through government records, but is rebuffed by the city archivist, Mr. Bailey. Eventually he and Gerald work out a deal; they do all Mr. Bailey’s Christmas shopping, and he will give him the information. They nearly complete the list but fall short in getting a pair of Nancy Spumoni Signature Snow boots, which Mr. Bailey wants to give his daughter. Without the critical item, he refuses to help the boys in their search despite all the stores in the city being sold out of the boots.

Helga eavesdrops on Arnold and Gerald, who is distraught that they failed in their mission to find Mai. However, Gerald assures Arnold that his effort alone was what Christmas was really all about. Helga then takes the Christmas list and sees the missing item they were looking for. Once she is back home to seeing Big Bob, Miriam, and Olga singing Christmas carols and drinking eggnog, Helga returns back to her moody disposition. Seeing Helga’s long face, Miriam then allows Helga to open only one present: the Nancy Spumoni Signature Snowboots, which Miriam stood in line for over 18 hours to get for her daughter. Helga puts the snow boots on and thanks her mother. Helga runs outside and dancing in the snow. In the midst of her joy, She drops the Christmas list and then delivers a “Moral Dilemma” on Christmas. As Arnold lays on this bed, Helga approaches Mr. Bailey who is ready call a taxi straight home. Helga offers her boots to Mr. Bailey, but he disagrees considering it is very late and he is expected to be home right now. After Helga convinces Mr. Bailey that doing this search on Mai Hyunh would make Arnold believe in miracles, the two then go back inside the building and look up the missing woman.

On Christmas Day, Arnold is downtrodden over not getting Mai and her father back together. Mr. Hyunh is revealed to not receive a Secret Santa present, but understands. Arnold starts to tell Mr. Hyunh of what he was trying to do, but then the door bell rings and Phil answers it, only to find Mai at the door. Mai comes in and is reunited with her father. Arnold cannot understand how the reunion happened, but Gerald tells him that it was a “Christmas Miracle” that needs no explanation, and maybe a “Christmas Angel” was looking out for him. After Arnold dismisses this, Helga is seen outside the boarding house in her socks wishing Arnold a Merry Christmas.

REVIEW

And with that, we close out this retrospective with what is not just the best episode of Season 1, but arguably the crown jewel of the entire series: “Arnold’s Christmas.”

This episode is widely regarded as a masterpiece of children’s television often ranked among the greatest holiday specials ever made and it’s not hard to see why. Under the guidance of Craig Bartlett and the crew, “Hey Arnold!” delivered something incredibly rare: a Christmas story that’s not only heartfelt, but deeply mature and unafraid to tackle real-world history.

At the center is Mr. Hyunh and his long-lost daughter, Mai. What begins as Arnold trying to find the perfect Secret Santa gift quickly turns into something far more profound, a mission to reunite a father and daughter separated by war.

The episode’s emotional core lies in Mr. Hyunh’s backstory, particularly the flashback to the Fall of Saigon. In a scene that still hits just as hard today, he makes the impossible decision to give his infant daughter to a departing American soldier, hoping she’ll have a safer, better life. It’s a moment of sacrifice that feels grounded, painful, and real, something the show never tries to soften or over-explain.

What makes this even more powerful is the connection to reality. Mr. Hyunh’s voice actor, Baoan Coleman, lived through a strikingly similar experience, he himself was evacuated from Saigon by helicopter. When the writers learned this after pitching the story, it reinforced their determination to tell it properly, knowing just how personal and authentic it could be.

The episode doesn’t just rely on that backstory, though. It also delivers one of Helga’s defining moments. In a rare act of open selflessness (even if it remains secret), she gives up the coveted Nancy Spumoni snow boots, something she genuinely wants in order to enlist Mr. Bailey’s help in tracking down Mai. It’s Helga at her best: tough on the outside, deeply compassionate underneath, and willing to sacrifice for someone else’s happiness, especially if it means helping Arnold.

From a production standpoint, the episode stands out immediately. It’s the first to ditch the standard opening in favor of a Christmas-themed variation, setting the tone right away. And as always, Jim Lang absolutely delivers with the score, especially the closing jazzy rendition of “Jingle Bells,” which perfectly captures the episode’s mix of warmth and reflection.

Behind the scenes, it almost didn’t happen. Nickelodeon executives initially pushed back, worried the subject matter: war, separation, sacrifice was too heavy for a young audience. But one executive (often cited as Mary Harrington) decided to test that assumption by showing an early animatic including the Vietnam flashback to her young son. His positive reaction helped turn the tide, convincing the network to move forward with the episode as intended.

Storyboard artist Steve Lowtwait later described it as one of the most endearing projects he’d ever worked on, and that care shows in every frame.

What ultimately makes “Arnold’s Christmas” so special is its refusal to talk down to its audience. It trusts kids to understand complex emotions and difficult history, while still delivering hope, kindness, and a genuinely earned happy ending.

It’s not just a great “Hey Arnold!” episode; it’s a reminder of what animation, especially for younger audiences, is capable of when it aims higher.

You probably noticed there’s still several episodes left in Season 1, even though I said I would tackle all of Season 1 and part of Season 2, well it was more of an estimate, and I didn’t plan this ahead like I would do with the Marvel Month reviews. For that, I apologize. Next year, we’ll wrap up Season 1 and start Season 2.

In the meantime, I gonna take a little breather and when I return or regularly scheduled nonsense.

Arnold In April – Runaway Float

Sorry for the confusion for earlier.

PLOT

Arnold comes up with a great design for the 4th grade float: he designs an amazing scale model of the city, but he runs out of money. To make his idea come true, Helga talks her dad into funding the project in exchange for a little advertising. However, after seeing the float, Big Bob is not pleased that it doesn’t promote his business enough and Nick Vermicelli orders the entire thing covered up with a giant paper-mâché beeper: this disillusions Arnold deeply, and he abandons the project. Helga is ‘convinced’ to go along with the marketing plan despite her worry for Arnold by being assured a place on the float. As the parade begins, the float, being top heavy and lacking aerodynamics, careens out of control as it heads toward City Hall. Arnold catches up with the float and pulls the emergency brake, stopping it just in time. The rough trip rips apart the giant beeper, revealing Arnold’s original design, which is then promptly given the award for best float.

REVIEW

“Runaway Float” is a classic “Hey Arnold!” episode that perfectly captures one of the show’s recurring themes: the clash between creativity and commercialization.

The story centers on Arnold designing a City Day parade float called “The Future,” and it’s genuinely one of his more inspired ideas: something artistic, imaginative, and personal. But, like a lot of things in Arnold’s world, it runs into a very real obstacle: money. Enter Big Bob Pataki, who agrees to fund the float… with strings attached.

Those strings quickly turn into a full-on corporate takeover. Big Bob slaps his “Beepers” branding all over the design, turning Arnold’s artistic vision into what’s basically a rolling advertisement. It’s a pretty clear (and effective) critique of how commercial interests can smother creativity. Arnold’s idea isn’t just altered, it’s completely hijacked.

Naturally, things don’t go as planned. The float, still bearing the bones of Arnold’s original concept literally breaks free and goes on a chaotic ride through the city. In the process, the kids manage to restore it, reclaiming Arnold’s vision just in time for it to still win the parade. It’s a satisfying resolution, even if it plays a little fast and loose with logic.

Helga’s role adds an extra layer to the story. Helga is the one who helps secure the funding in the first place, but that also means dealing directly with her overbearing father. Like a lot of her better episodes, this one quietly highlights her internal conflict, torn between supporting Arnold and being stuck under Big Bob’s influence. It’s not the main focus, but it’s a nice bit of character texture.

From a production standpoint, this is one of the more ambitious episodes of the season. Composer Jim Lang has mentioned that the music here was especially challenging. He had to create a convincing marching band sound for the parade, then intentionally “break” it as the float spirals into chaos. It’s a subtle detail, but it adds a lot to the energy of the sequence.

Now… the animation.

Like several episodes in this stretch, it was handled by Wang Film Productions, and the errors are very noticeable here. You’ve got Nadine’s hair switching between blonde and brunette, Eugene briefly losing his hair, Arnold’s eye phasing through his hair in one shot, and Helga momentarily appearing in her normal outfit instead of her beeper costume mid-chaos. There’s even a physics hiccup, when Arnold pulls the emergency brake, everyone should go flying forward, but cartoon logic wins out.

Despite all that (or maybe partly because of it), “Runaway Float” remains a fan-favorite. It’s got a strong central message, a memorable premise, and enough spectacle to stand out—even if some of that spectacle comes from animation quirks rather than pure intention.

Next, we end Arnold In April with one of the greatest Christmas episodes ever made.

Arnold In April – 24 Hours To Live

Don’t mess with crazy people, they’ll make you watch them dance and lip-synch to funk music. At least he didn’t have a gun.

PLOT

Arnold plays baseball with the other kids, when his turn comes, he misses a couple of times, but when Harold taunts his grandmother, Arnold knocks him out. Helga tells Harold what Arnold did, and Harold promises to beat Arnold up the next day. Throughout the evening, Helga continues to taunt Arnold by counting the number of hours before the fight. As Arnold and Gerald arrive at the boarding house, Gerald assures him he’ll be fine… before asking if he can get his cd player.

Later, he asks Phil for advice, and seemingly has advice every time he answers his questions, but then responds with “I have no idea.”, but does give him sage advice: never eat raspberries, before going back to the bathroom. Arnold goes upstairs where he sees Gerti, hunting a fly again. He asks her for advice but it wasn’t helpful. Helga calls the boarding house, to remind Arnold of the fight. Helga calls Arnold’s direct line, but he yanks his phone off the cord, only to hear her across the building with a bullhorn announcing how long he has left before the fight.

While he is sleeping, Arnold has a dream where he’s being chased by Harold, Helga and Stinky, he then climbs a skyscraper, and breaks the lightning rod, and proceeds to act crazy and scaring the bullies away. When he wakes up, this inspires him. He heads out with Gerald, and a boombox in hand.

Moments later, Helga constantly reminds Arnold of how many minutes he has to die. Upon arriving at the fight, Arnold tells Harold that “I’m crazy, and you should never hit a crazy person.” When Harold asks him to prove it, Arnold lip-syncing to the song “I’m Crazy” while acting out the lyrics and successfully dodges the beating. His dance number impresses Harold, who invites him to join their club and avoids getting beaten up.

Helga complains that people paid to see a fight so Harold gets Joey and Iggy to fight instead. The pilot ends with Helga shaking her head and calling boys dumb, as Arnold’s hoisted away.

REVIEW

“24 Hours to Live” is one of those classic early “Hey Arnold!” episodes that perfectly captures the show’s mix of anxiety, imagination, and offbeat humor.

The premise is simple but instantly engaging: Arnold accidentally knocks Harold Berman down with a baseball, and Harold responds by vowing to “pulverize” him the next day. From that moment on, Arnold is stuck in a countdown mindset, convinced he’s got one day left before facing certain doom. It’s a very kid-specific kind of fear—blowing a situation way out of proportion—and the episode leans into that beautifully.

Much of the comedy comes from how seriously Arnold takes the threat, contrasted with Harold’s looming, almost exaggerated menace and Helga Pataki’s relentless teasing, which only makes things worse. There’s a great sense of tension, but it’s always balanced with humor.

The standout moment, though, is the dream sequence. It’s surreal, exaggerated, and incredibly memorable: a giant Arnold being chased by equally giant versions of Helga, Harold, and Stinky. Instead of running, Dream-Arnold snaps, acting wild and unpredictable, which scares them off. It’s weird, funny, and surprisingly important, because it gives Arnold the idea he needs to face Harold in real life.

That leads into the episode’s best payoff: Arnold’s solution isn’t to fight back physically, but to completely throw Harold off with a musical performance. The “I’m Crazy” number, an energetic, James Brown-style song Arnold lip-syncs while dodging Harold, is a highlight. It’s bold, ridiculous, and somehow works, impressing Harold and the rest of the neighborhood kids. It’s such a “Hey Arnold!” solution: win the conflict not with force, but with creativity and confidence.

There’s also an interesting bit of history here. This episode is essentially a remake of the original pilot that premiered in theaters alongside “Harriet the Spy.” The core story is largely the same, but the biggest difference is the animation. The pilot was handled by Anivision with higher-quality, theatrical-level visuals, while this version was done by Wang Film Productions. Even then, this is one of Wang’s stronger outings, the animation still has some quirks, but it holds up better than some of their other episodes.

Overall, “24 Hours to Live” is a fan-favorite for a reason. It’s funny, imaginative, and a great early example of how the show could take a small, relatable fear and turn it into something wildly entertaining and surprisingly clever in its resolution. And honestly, the pilot version might be worth a closer look down the line, just to see how it all started.

Next, Arnold and Gerald get jobs and Phil’s a zombie.