There was no day during my freshman year of high school that I looked forward to more than Friday, Dec. 13, 2002.
You see, that was the day “Star Trek: Nemesis” finally hit theaters. A diehard Star Trek fan, I had followed the film’s development from its inception, consuming every detail about it that trickled out in magazines and message boards, which stoked my anticipation for the better part of two years. Add in the fact that a Trek film hadn’t been released since I was in elementary school, and my excitement level for the movie couldn’t have been higher
This made getting through school that Friday such a slog. From the start of first period, I was counting down the minutes to the day’s final bell. I wasn’t alone in this; one of my best friends/classmates, also a Trek diehard, had the same experience. When school finally dismissed, we shot out the double doors at warp speed.
Upon arriving at the theater, my friend and I, along with my family, took our seats in a mostly empty auditorium. I’d like to say this is because we had arrived early, but it wasn’t. All the seats left vacant by a moviegoing public that was clearly indifferent about “Star Trek: Nemesis” created an admittedly foreboding atmosphere. However, it was hardly enough to diminish the thrill of seeing a movie I’d waited so long for.
About two-thirds of the way through the film, though, that excitement did give way to a different sensation… one I’d never experienced before while watching Star Trek. I couldn’t bring myself to admit what that feeling was then, because Star Trek had only ever brought me joy, for as long as I could remember. But that feeling was, undeniably, disappointment.
For the first time ever, Star Trek had let me down.
My dissatisfaction with “Star Trek: Nemesis” crescendoed with the death of one of my favorite characters, Data, at the film’s climax. I wouldn’t have wanted to see Data die even under the best of circumstances. As “Nemesis” was decidedly not that, it made his death sting all the more. Like the rest of the movie, Data’s final scene was abrupt and emotionally inert. I would go on to learn that the film’s director, Stuart Baird, wasn’t familiar with Star Trek prior to making the movie and, belligerently, made no effort to change that. So, it’s no surprise that “Nemesis” turned out to be a cold, impersonal film.
After “Nemesis” quietly exited theaters in early 2003, the Star Trek series on TV at the time, “Star Trek: Enterprise,” helped restore my faith in the franchise. While it was a relief seeing Star Trek rebound from its cinematic misfire, it was bittersweet knowing that the events of “Nemesis” would prevent Data from being a part of future stories in the franchise. That, ultimately, was the worst thing about “Nemesis”; Star Trek got to move on, but Data got left behind.
Or so I thought.
Fifteen years passed. In the summer of 2018, a new Star Trek series featuring Data’s captain, Jean-Luc Picard, was announced. That announcement was made the day of my bachelor party and sent one of my friends and I – the same friend, in fact, who I’d seen “Nemesis” with 16 years prior – into a state of euphoria. We’d feel that way again a year later when the first trailer for “Star Trek: Picard” was released… and featured, at the very end, a seemingly resurrected Data.
This shocked me! How was Data back?! My friend and I immediately began theorizing. Had he been resurrected in the body of B-4, the android brother he’d encountered in “Nemesis”? Was he a hologram now? All I knew for sure is that as excited as I was to see Sir Patrick Stewart play Jean-Luc Picard again, I was equally as excited to see how the series would explain Data’s return.
As more information about “Picard” came out in the months leading up to its debut in January of this year, it was revealed that Picard’s guilt over Data’s death – the android had sacrificed his life to save the captain’s in “Nemesis” – would be explored in the series. After mourning the character’s passing for nearly 20 years, there was something validating, as a fan, about seeing the franchise not only acknowledge that grief, but confer it to Picard.
When “Picard” premiered, it didn’t delay delving into that sorrow. The series’ opening scene, featuring a dreaming Picard and a spectral Data, playing poker aboard the Enterprise-D to the sounds of “Blue Skies” (an Irving Berlin song that Data memorably sang in “Nemesis”), was a poignant depiction of Picard’s unrest regarding his friend’s fate.
That unrest would eventually inform Picard’s decision to help out the newly introduced character of Dahj, whom he discovers is an android with a connection to Data. She’s being pursued by Romulan assailants. And, in Picard’s mind, if he can protect her, perhaps he can repay the long-standing debt he feels he owes his friend.
While Dahj would perish by episode’s end (through no fault of Picard’s), it is revealed that she has a twin sister, Soji, who is also very much in danger. Accordingly, Picard commits himself to finding her and protecting her from that peril.
Ultimately, this is one of the best things about “Picard.” For as elaborate as the season’s plot gets – juggling Romulans, synthetic lifeforms and ex-Borg – Picard’s motivation as a character remains refreshingly simple; the retired Starfleet officer simply wants to help someone who has a profound connection to one of his dearest companions.
As Data’s shadow looms so large over the season, I found it hard to not hold out hope that we’d ultimately get to see him resurrected. Sure, seeing him appear in not just one, but two, of Picard’s dreams was wonderful. But I wanted more. After all, his death in “Nemesis” sucked. Why pay any respect to that? Just undo it!
While the series premiere poured some cold water on that desire, revealing that B-4 had failed to retain the memories Data uploaded into him in “Nemesis,” I remained optimistic. Perhaps something better was in store for the android, I thought. To that end, I imagined Data showing up in the season finale, reborn in an organic synth body, akin to Soji’s. This would not only be a logical evolution for the character, but would liberate actor Brent Spiner from having to don the mint-colored makeup, black hair and yellow contact lenses that were necessary to play the un-aging Data.
Those requirements actually led Spiner to advocate for Data’s death during the development of “Nemesis,” as he believed he’d be too old to credibly portray the android in future films. While “Picard” managed to entice the 71-year-old actor back with the promise of digital makeup that would restore Data’s ageless appearance, the expense of doing so was surely considerable, making Data’s permanent return, in his familiar form, unlikely. There would, however, be no such cost to have Spiner portray a new version of Data – one who looked just like Spiner himself. If the android were going to return on “Picard,” this seemed like the best possible way to do it.
To my delight, Spiner did, indeed, appear on “Picard” in this context.
To my disappointment, though, that appearance wasn’t as Data. Rather, Spiner portrayed a new character, Dr. Altan Inigo Soong, the human son of Data’s creator.
When this happened, I abandoned my hopes of seeing Data return from the dead. Clearly, it just wasn’t in the producers’ plans. I could identify no other avenues for the character’s return.
So… you can imagine my reaction when Data showed up in the season finale, “Et in Arcadia Ego, Part 2.”
After Picard sacrifices his life to save Soji and other androids from annihilation at the hands of a Romulan armada, he awakens in an ethereal version of his study; all of the contents are blackened and the room itself is floating in space, the starry grandeur of which is visible through exposed portions of the roof.
It’s here Picard encounters Data. The former admiral’s initial reaction is that he must be dreaming, like he was in the series’ opening scene; this was my reaction, too. However, Data assures Picard (and the viewer) that this is no dream.
This time around, Picard is in Data’s head. The android explains that a copy was made of the memories he attempted to upload into B-4. Those memories, he says, were then used to reconstruct his consciousness – an accomplishment pulled off by the aforementioned Dr. Soong, with help from another cyberneticist, Dr. Bruce Maddox (who first appeared on “Star Trek: The Next Generation” and factors heavily into the early plot of “Picard.”) Data now exists in a quantum simulation, running on a computer in Soong and Maddox’s lab.
The conversation that unfolds between Data and Picard is the best part of “Picard.” For Picard, it’s an opportunity he never thought he’d get – an opportunity to tell Data how profoundly sorry he is that he’s gone and to apologize for not expressing his admiration for him more often than he did.
On the first point, Data responds with a question. He asks if Picard regrets having sacrificed himself to save the lives of Soji and her people. Picard immediately replies that he does not. Data then remarks that that’s how he feels about having saved Picard’s life. He does not view it as an act committed in vain. He valued the captain’s life and wanted to preserve it.
As for the second point, Data searches his memories and assures Picard that there were moments where he could detect the man’s affinity for him. Picard, after fearing for so long that he hadn’t made this clear to Data, smiles with relief, unburdened from years of regret. It’s a moment Stewart plays wonderfully.
(And while we’re on the subject of acting, I want to commend Spiner for his performance as Data. The passage of time had no impact on his command of the role. He revived the character in all his complexity with aplomb – arguably, more successfully than Stewart revived Picard, who at times felt too different from the character we knew in “The Next Generation.” That’s also a writing nitpick.)
Eventually, Picard has to depart Data’s simulation – his preserved essence bound for an android avatar crafted by Soji, Soong and Dr. Agnes Jurati, one of the season’s main characters. Before he leaves, however, Picard gets a request from Data. The android entreats his former captain to terminate the simulation, thereby allowing him to experience mortality and death. For an individual who dedicated his life to understanding the human experience, it’s a necessary step to complete that process. Picard realizes that. And, accordingly, he promises Data he’ll fulfill his request.
As he leaves, Picard’s last word to Data is a simple “goodbye.” It’s fitting, as that was the android’s last word to Picard in “Nemesis,” spoken after he transported the captain away to safety. While Picard didn’t hear Data then, the characters hear each other now, and Data responds with a “goodbye” of his own.
It may be a single word, but in this context, “goodbye” is a powerful one. Its usage is intentional, I think, designed to recall the characters’ previous meeting. Whereas that word in “Nemesis” is the only one spoken by either character, in “Picard” it’s used to punctuate a long, poignant conversation. It connects the two scenes and highlights how the one in “Picard” delivers what the one in “Nemesis” didn’t – a substantive, satisfying farewell to Data, which is what the character always deserved. I went into the series hoping it would undo Data’s death; instead, it overwrote he and Picard’s farewell. And that proved to be fulfilling in its own right.
The depiction of Data’s passing in “Picard” was just as moving as he and Picard’s conversation. The android is shown savoring the twilight of his life, drinking wine, then lying down to await the end, all while a dreamy rendition of “Blue Skies” plays on a record player in the background (performed beautifully by Soji actress Isa Briones). Outside the simulation, a resurrected Picard eulogizes his friend, praising his capacity to recognize, and embody, humanity’s finest qualities. While Picard speaks, a virtual version of himself appears alongside Data, comforting the android as the simulation shuts down. As the shutdown progresses, Data starts to age, just like a human, until he resembles an old man. At that point, he begins to dissipate, becoming stardust that coalesces with the universe.
It’s a far cry from Data just blowing up in “Nemesis.”
After the episode aired, Spiner gave an interview in which he remarked that he was aware Data’s death in “Nemesis” had disappointed fans, which was heartening to hear.
“When he blew up in ‘Nemesis,’” said Spiner to TV Guide, “I never expected to get the backlash from so many fans over that. I thought, ‘Well, that’s a great, big emotional ending, and he’s sacrificing himself for his friends’ and that was just. But it didn’t seem to sit that well with too many people.”
In the interview, Spiner described Data’s death in “Picard” as a “gentler exit” for the character and remarked that the finale’s writer, Michael Chabon, and director, Akiva Goldsman, had conceived it to soften the blow of “Nemesis” – for Picard, as a character, and, by extension, the fans.
As one of those fans, I’m delighted to say it worked. After “Nemesis” failed, I never thought we’d see a sequel to that story. To my surprise and gratitude, though, that’s what “Picard” (at least in part) turned out to be.
As the season finale of “Picard” drew to a close, one of the parting shots was of Jean-Luc’s face after Data’s passing. He looked like a man at peace, having found closure after so many years. When my TV went black, I saw my reflection in the screen. That look was on my face, too.
EVE OF STEVE 