David Alan Hall

For nearly two decades I have been dismayed that the custodians of Star Trek didn’t understand Gene Roddenberry’s vision or bothered to hire people who did. Whether at the movies or on TV, it's largely been stories servicing visual effects. Imagine, if you can, my joy last night at 12:01 a.m. when the first episode of PICARD dropped on CBS Partial Access. I shed tears of relief discovering a drama about family and humanitarianism, a first-rate Star Trek beauty bent on seeking out new life. It was wonderfully respectful—not reverent—of the source material (all the way down to Picard’s Ressican flute gracing the main title). I haven’t been this excited about my once-favorite franchise since the 1980s. I only hope other iterations on the horizon are as rational and truth seeking as the pilot episode of PICARD. Young people might find it slow. That’s probably because the only Star Trek they have ever experienced are the retro roller coaster rides perpetrated by JJ Abrams and Bryan Fuller. I’ve spent this entire century believing Star Trek would never make me happy again. Last night it did. The saga finally moved forward after twenty years. My heart is warm. That’s what thoughtful writing, acting and directing can do. That’s what Jean-Luc Picard can do. After eighteen years Patrick Stewart caught lightning in a bottle for the second time.