Thursday, April 11, 2013

Tinker Tenor Doctor Spy

**** (4 stars out of 5)
Meet a craven race of voyeurs who may or may not report to a Magic Eight Ball. They're spoiling for a one-sided fight with any easy target they can survey. Surely a mere coincidence that they closely resemble another race of Potato People known for unreasonable bravery: the Sontarans of Doctor Who. I suppose that many races must have embarrassing low-budget cousins: the Vulcans have the Romulans, the Ferengi have the Dopterians, and the Sontarans have the Hierarchy.

A doughy Hierarchy mole man called Phlox (no relation, probably) has discovered a window into Voyager. What he doesn't know is that his wireless tap is only broadcasting the Emergency Medical Hologram's daydreams.

As the EMH rambles through the avenues of time, tilting at the windmills in his mind, and winning access to the hearts and bodies of every woman he knows, Phlox looks on and takes it all at face value. Despite literally watching the doctor transform into the dashing red-clad Emergency Command Hologram and single-handedly fending off Borg vessels with his mighty penis cannon... uh, photonic cannon, I meant photonic... the timid would-be invaders somehow decide to attack anyway. And poor Phlox's job is on the line if they don't find out the Captain is really the ECH!

"Ecch" is what Janeway says, too, although she winds up coaching the doctor throughout his Big Chair Bluff. When the fantasy and farce is played out, the Captain even gives him a REAL medal! Seven of Nine posing for nude sketches will have to remain the stuff of his dreams, however.

"Tinker Tenor Doctor Spy" is fun if you don't ask too many questions or apply any logic. Why, for example, does the Captain care once way or another about helping the Hierarchy Stooge cover his probic vent in front of his boss? How did the Hierarchy survive this long with all the courage God gave Larry Niven's Puppeteers? How did the Hierarchy get into the piracy business in the first place when their natural habitat is clearly alone under their unmade beds in their mother's basements? Pose your questions to the Hierarchy Computer- ALL SIGNS POINT TO YES.

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