The Extra Special Guest Star

 Something occurred to me while watching the first and second seasons of Columbo. In multi-part film and television stories--basically all film and television stories save anthology series and stand-alone films without sequels--producers will often cast a stable of actors multiple times as different characters within those stories. 

In the James Bond films, for example, multiple actors have played characters such as M, Q, Moneypenny,  Bill Tanner, Felix Leiter, Blofeld--and even Bond himself. 

Roger Moore's Bond worked for two Ms, but neither he nor Moneypenny remarked upon their boss' change in appearance. Nor did Bernard Lee's M remark on Bond's change in appearance from On Her Majesty's Secret Service to Diamonds Are Forever to Live and Let Die. 

This is, of course, because characters are played by different actors in different productions all the time. We, the audience, don't remark on it, so why would the characters? 

Consider the inverted case: a guest actor appears several times during a television series, playing different roles. On Star Trek, for example, Diana Muldaur played Doctor Ann Mulhall in "Return to Tomorrow" and Doctor Miranda Jones in "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Years later, she played Doctor Katherine Pulaski throughout the second season of Star Trek: The Next Generation. No character on either show confused Muldaur for any of the other characters she played within the same continuity. 

Of course. Same actress, different characters; in the shared universe of Star Trek, they're simply three distinct people who happen to look alike (to the eyes of the audience, at least). 

Forgive this rambling preamble; I'm aware that anyone who watches television or movies is well aware of the phenomena I've just described. 

But wouldn't it be fun if a creative team took advantage of our familiarity with the common practice of actors reappearing as different characters?  

Imagine, for example, Doctor Pulaski at the end of season two of Star Trek: The Next Generation. What if the good doctor had actually been Doctor Ann Mulhall the entire time, having faked her own death at some point between the 23rd and 24th centuries and given herself a new identity as Pulaski? Furthermore, what if, during the events of "Return to Tomorrow," Thalassa actually retained control of Mulhall's body and simply pretended to be her from that point forward? 

Imagine a two-part second season finale for TNG. In part one, Troi, working on a project with Pulaski more closely than usual, senses something off about the doctor. Furthermore, the doctor seems troubled by her conscience, and remarks on how old she feels--even though by 24th century standards she's in robust, middle-aged health. At the end of part one, during the course of a solo scientific mission in a shuttlecraft, she changes course and appears to be preparing to fly straight into a star. 

Part two opens as the TNG crew prevents Pulaski's suicide. Troi tries to counsel her, and naturally Riker, Picard, Data, and the others are concerned and reach out in different ways, trying to figure out what's gone wrong in Pulaski's life. 

The audience should be wondering too, because to us, she's Pulaski. By season's end, most viewers will have long forgotten that they remember Diana Muldaur from the original series. In fact, I'd wager 99% of viewers would be just as confused by Pulaski's actions and demeanor as the show's heroes. 

Finally, Pulaski lets slip a cryptic phrase, quoting some of her own words from "Return to Tomorrow:" "I told him oblivion together didn't frighten me. I lied." 

Then, a beat later, just before she successfully kills herself: "I'm not frightened anymore. Forgive me, Ann." 

For fans just familiar enough with Star Trek lore, the puzzle pieces should snap into place with what I hope would be dramatic impact. 

Our main characters are traumatized by all this--suicide being incredibly uncommon in the utopian world of the 24th century. In the episode's denoument, Troi and Data uncover Pulaski's past, reporting their findings to Captain Picard, who has to decide what to make of all this. The story of Mulhall/Thalassa/Pulaski is a triple-pronged tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, and a dark finale for the show's sophomore season. 

At the very least, I think this would have been better than "Shades of Grey." Plus, it would have given Doctor Beverly Crusher a powerful in-story reason to return--to be there for Picard and her other friends in the wake of such traumatic events. 

What If Gates McFadden Hadn't Returned to Star Trek: The Next Generation?

In our world, actress Gates McFadden played Chief Medical Officer Doctor Beverly Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation for every season except the second, when she was temporarily replaced by Diana Muldaur playing Doctor Katherine Pulaski. Covering the behind-the-scenes drama causing McFadden's (and Crusher's) temporary absence from the USS Enterprise is beyond the scope of this thought experiment, to wit: What if Gates had not returned for seasons three through seven? And what if Diana Muldaur declined to become a series regular, leaving after season two? 

Enter Anne Twomey

Imagine if the showrunners dipped back into the well of previous actresses who auditioned for the Pulaski or Crusher roles. Imagine further they took a second look at Anne Twomey, who auditioned for Crusher a couple of years before. In this reality, Twomey plays Doctor Rachel Arbogast. 

Doctor with a Difference

To differentiate Arbogast from Crusher and Pulaski, the showrunners give Arbogast a wacky sense of humour; she loves to pull pranks, insert puns into conversations, and tells Mom jokes (though she's not a mother). They also give her a darker backstory than either of the show's previous CMOs. She doesn't warm to the other series regulars until several seasons have gone by, nor they to her, seeing as they've already gone through two CMOs. Wesley Crusher, in particular, is initially the most standoffish. 

As the third season unfolds, we learn Arbogast spent several years ships on the front lines of a mysterious, little-spoken-of war; she survived some gruesome encounters and pulled a lot of people through grave injuries. She lost a lot; maybe she lost everything. She doesn't talk about it. It's in her service record, but you'd never know it coming from her; Riker, Picard, and Troi are the only ones who know the full details, but the other characters (and the audience) won't learn her whole story for a while. 

Alternate Episodes

In many episodes, the show doesn't require a specific character or actress to carry out the role of doctor; any medical professional would do. But in certain episodes, Crusher's replacement by Arbogast would make a difference. Here are a few examples: 

In the real-world version of "Evolution," the show's season three premiere, Doctor Crusher's return is briefly explained and she enjoys a warm reunion with her son Wesley.  But in this version, there's no Crusher and therefore no reunion. Instead, we meet Arbogast when she's called upon to treat Dr. Stubbs, the episode's guest star. Maybe she gets a few extra moments of character development in a meeting with Picard; Crusher and Picard had a short conversation about her return, so there's time in the episode to give the audience a bit of a backgrounder on Arbogast. And maybe the rest of the episode continues as normal; at this point, with the show on doctor number three in as many years, the producers might not yet have decided if Arbogast is going to be a major character or not. Perhaps she gets a scene with Guinan at the end of the episode, just as Crusher did in the original timeline. 

In "Who Watches the Watchers?", maybe Rachel refuses to mind-wipe the Mintakan, Liko. This doesn't change the outcome of the episode, but gives us a bit of insight into Arbogast's character; she's seen such terrible trauma that she refuses to inflict injury on a patient, no matter what the cost. This puts her in conflict with Picard and the Prime Directive, and puts her position (in the real world and the world of the show) in jeopardy. We wonder how long she'll stick around. 

In "The Enemy," Worf's decision to refuse to donate blood to save the injured Romulan results in a long-standing low-key animosity between Arbogast and Worf. Unlike Crusher, Arbogast doesn't have much history with Worf at this point, so her opinion of him is tainted by a decision she must accept as a medical doctor, but privately disdains as a matter of principle. Hard to imagine the TNG writers allowing TOO much tension among characters in the main cast, but maybe they'd allow the thread to play out just a little, at least until events in a later episode cause Rachel to re-evaluate Worf. 

"The High Ground" would be Dr. Arbogast's first big episode, since she's the one that gets kidnapped by Ansata separatists on Rutia IV. Maybe she's more sympathetic than Crusher was to the Ansata point of view; perhaps her experiences on the front lines showed her that sometimes "terrorism" was the last resort of a subjugated people. In fact, we might uncover hints that the Federation was the aggressor in the unnamed war Arbogast participated in. But while she may have some sympathies, Arbogast knows what side she's ultimately on, and for the first time we see that she's no stranger to combat, taking a much more active role in the climactic rescue than Beverly did. Maybe Arbogast is the one that kills Finn, forced to because he was drawing a bead on Picard. 

In "Deja Q," perhaps Arbogast treats the de-Q'ed Q a little more warmly than Crusher did in our timeline, since this will be the first time she's met him. 

In "Hollow Pursuits," Arbogast is less disturbed than her crewmates to find she's objectified in Barclay's hologram, and the episode ends on a dry, suggestive coda: "Let me know if you ever want to try the real thing, Reg." 

There's no romantic plot for Arbogast in "Transfigurations," but from this point forward she develops a strong interest in transhumanism, something most humans in Trek seem to frown on, given the evidence of the various shows. 

In "The Best of Both Worlds" Arbogasts's role is functionally identical to the one Crusher played, but she's more calculated and determined on the away team mission to the cube, though the end result is the same; failure to rescue Picard. And like Crusher, she removes Picard's Borg implants in Part II. 

In "Family," we learn what happened to Arbogast's last commanding officer, the woman who was her best friend and spiritual sister. A holodeck conversation with that officer's avatar reveals something of Arbogast's trauma to the audience, but not to the other characters, providing a bit of dramatic irony for seasons to come. 

"Remember Me" simply doesn't happen in this version of the show. Instead, the producers go for a different bottle episode, a Troi-centric story that has the counselor guiding a severely wounded but recovering security officer through his PTSD--a rare opportunity to see Troi performing her official function. 

In "Data's Day," Arbogast introduces Data to the art of the prank, mostly because she thinks it's hilarious that Data just won't get it. 

In "Q-Pid," Arbogast quips "Now I see why you guys find this maniac so annoying." She also uses a rapier in combat instead of a clay pot. 

In "The Host," Arbogast isn't fazed at all by the Trill life cycle. Of course she and Odan still part ways by episode's end, but only because Arbogast has to stay on the show. The conclusion has more of a "It was a fun ride!" vibe. 

Arbogast doesn't entirely agree with the choices made by "The Masterpiece Society," but following on from her interest in transhumanism established in "Transfigurations," she considers staying behind, in contrast to the Society members who decide to leave thanks to the influence of the Enterprise crew. In the end she decides not to stay on the colony, but because their approach to transhumanism isn't quite radical enough for her...

"Ethics" reinforces the chilly relationship between Arbogast and Worf, but only in lines like "Mr. Worf and I might not get along, but damned if I'm going to risk his life on your experimental treatment." But surprisingly, Worf opens up to Arbogast during a consultation. "I have seen the warrior's fire in your eyes and in your actions. You hide it well, but you know that I cannot live like this. Because you could not live like this." Arbogast realizes Worf is right, and cooperates with Dr. Russell. The operations succeeds, but without the death fakeout of the original version of the story. Arbogast berates herself for working with Russell, going as it does against her professional ethics, but this feeling is tempered by a feeling that sometimes the ends justify the means. 

"Realm of Fear" turns out pretty much the same, but with some more flirting from Arbogast toward Barclay as she treats his "transporter psychosis." 

"Chain of Command" reveals that Dr. Arbogast makes a more badass commando than Dr. Crusher, but the episode goes pretty much the same was as in our timeline. 

"Suspicions" reveals Arbogast to be even more stubborn in her pursuit of the truth behind Reyga's death. 

When Picard and Arbogast are "Attached," Arbogast learns how much Picard misses Dr. Crusher, which explains, perhaps why he's never warmed to the woman who took her place. Picard learns, finally, the full truth of Arbogast's heretofore hinted-at past, and it drastically changes their relationship - perhaps even calling into question Picard's original choice to have Arbogast replace Pulaski. They form an uneasy understanding by episode's end, but the tension will remain for the rest of the series. Note that only Picard knows what happened - the audience isn't privy to this information. 

In "Parallels" Arbogast doesn't appear--but Gates McFadden returns as Doctor Crusher in several of the quantum realities visited by Worf. 

"Sub Rosa" relies completely on Crusher's backstory, so it's replaced by "Uncomfortable Truths," a bottle episode in which an old colleague of Arbogast visits the Enterprise and accidentally reveals a shocking truth: during a battle in the mysterious war hinted at in earlier seasons, Arbogast was forced to choose between blowing up a starship with a full crew infected by an insidious biological weapon or trying to save the crew and risking infection of the entire Federation. 

We learn that against the orders of her commanding officer, Arbogast beamed a photon torpedo into the engine room of the infected ship, destroying it and killing all aboard. A turning point in the war, this act proved the Federation's resolve in the eyes of the enemy, who agreed to a brokered peace. Only this prevented Arbogast from being cashiered, especially when it was discovered that Arbogast herself had dismissed a potential cure proposed by one of her colleagues - a treatment that, further experiments later proved, would have worked. 

Picard, of course, learned all this in "Attached," and he shares his prior knowledge with his senior officers, each of them dealing with conflicting emotions. Worf is surprisingly supportive, given that Arbogast made a "warrior's choice." Data is sympathetic, given that her choice was logical with the information and choices she had at the moment. Riker, Troi, and LaForge are horrified and acknowledge it will make their working relationship with Arbogast difficult. 

Arbogast decides to leave, not being able to bear the umbrage of people she's grown to love and respect. She and Picard share one last scene in the transporter room. "What will you do now?" he asks. "I failed because I was human," she says bitterly. "I'm going to see if I can rectify that." Picard shakes his head in sorrow, but knows she's made up her mind, and beams her over to the USS Kurzweil. In the transporter room of the Kurzweil, an unseen figure greets her: "Dr. Arbogast. Let's talk about your future." 

In the remaining season seven episodes, Suzie Plakson at long last returns as Doctor Selar, newly promoted to take Arbogast's place. She'll go on to appear in all five (!) TNG films. 

Arbogast doesn't appear again until "All Good Things," in the portions set 25 years in the future. She serves the same story function as Crusher did in the original episode, but without the Picard/Crusher romance beats; instead, we see that Arbogast has transformed herself into a cyborg--cold and efficient and in control, far from the practical joker of her early appearances. Old Picard is freaked out by this, given his experiences with the Borg, but knows he has no choice but to work with her. The episode plays out pretty much as it did in our world, but with one difference: before Picard joins the poker game, we see him composing a letter to Arbogast, asking her to meet the next time their ships are (relatively) close; he has something important to share about her future. 

But with Plakson's Doctor Selar taking McFadden's Crusher role in the four TNG feature films, there's no compelling reason to revisit Arbogast's thread in those films. Instead, she doesn't return--nor does Crusher--until the third season of Picard, where we see that her quest for transhumanity has had tragic consequences--though she goes out a hero...

Mark Lenard: The Lost Conversation

Today Sylvia and I went to Leduc to check on Mom's house and take care of some estate matters. On the way home, perhaps because my mind was already occupied by loss and regret, I told Sylvia the story of my conversation with Mark Lenard, a well-regarded character actor best known for playing Sarek, father of Spock, in one episode of Star Trek, two of Star Trek: The Next Generation, and three of the feature films. 

Except there is no story--at least, no story I remember. 

In the late 80s and early 90s, I attended a number of science fiction conventions in Edmonton and Calgary. On one such occasion, Mark Lenard was a guest. I definitely attended one of his panels, but it was in between convention events that I had a laid-back conversation with the man. 

The conversation took place in a niche with a couple of tables and chairs on one of the middle floors of Edmonton's Chateau Lacombe--or so I believe. The conversation took place in the late afternoon; the niche was dimly lit, but the sun shot beams of radiance through the windows, casting stark shadows. 

Mr. Lenard and I weren't the only ones present; I believe there were at least one or two acquaintances from the Edmonton Star Trek Society (now known as the Edmonton Speculative Fiction Society). 
 
Mr. Lenard was charming, soft-spoken, and self-effacing, and the conversation wasn't about Star Trek or acting, but friends, family, work, and the like. 

And that's all I remember. As a student of film and television and a huge fan of Star Trek, you'd think I'd have that day fixed in my head with all the clarity of an IMAX film, but . . . 

Mark Lenard is gone now, like Mom. And now I wonder how many things I'll forget about her, and curse myself for it. 

Dad Meets John Saxon

As I've written in the past, I am both blessed and cursed with vivid dreams that, in the moment, are as utterly convincing as real life itself. This means that my dreams can sometimes be traumatic, which is why I'm writing this at 5 am.

Last night--in the dream, I know now--I was in my library, culling books to make room, a project I've been working on for a couple of weeks now. As I was boxing some old thrillers I know I'll never read again, Dad, who died back in 2018, appeared in the doorway. This seemed quite natural, even though Dad appeared to be in his late 30s or early 40s--younger than I am now.

I was very pleased, but because I've always been a bit emotionally stunted, I didn't let it show. We exchanged greetings, and then this conversation followed:

"How are you doing?" I asked. "Hey, I don't know if you've already heard, but John Saxon died a couple of days ago..."

Dad laughed, embarrassed. "Oh yeah, he came by to see me as soon as he got here."

"And what did he say?" I asked eagerly.

Long ago, you see, Dad had a dream in which character actor John Saxon confronted him in a narrow staircase. Saxon was coming up the stairs toward Dad menacingly, and this is how Dad reacted, in his words: "I shot that son-of-a-bitch in the face."

This always made Sean and I laugh uproariously, because Dad is not a violent man and it's hard to imagine him shooting anyone, nor even wishing harm on anyone. We always asked what he had against John Saxon, and Dad always said he couldn't explain it, he just couldn't stand the guy--despite never having met him in the real world.

"And what did he say?"

And Dad said, "He said he'd heard about me, and he came by to tell me that there were no hard feelings, because there were times in his life when he really had been a son-of-a-bitch. Turns out he's a pretty good guy, told some interesting stories."

Dad then asked if he could borrow a couple of the cardboard boxes I'd set aside for the books I was giving away, and of course I said sure. He took them and walked away, and I woke up crying, which was very therapeutic because I haven't had a good cry over Dad's death yet; it's been brutally suppressed by some emotional mechanism I don't understand. Sylvia comforted me, but unfortunately I woke up again, this time in the real world--or so I hope, as I'm writing this--dry-eyed and feeling numb, catharsis lost.

I am not a spiritual person, not a believer in ghosts or the afterlife. And yet I hope Dad really did meet John Saxon, and that he's enjoying himself in some joyful place beyond mortal ken, because he deserves it, gone too soon and forever missed. 

The Christmas Play

Here are some happy, some bored, some bemused children at the Leaf Rapids Education Centre sometime close to the Christmas season in, perhaps, 1975, or perhaps '76, or perhaps '77; surely no later than that. I recognize Melvin in the plaid vest and blue shirt standing in front of the stage, centre left, and I believe that's my cousin Carol Ann kneeling next to me on stage in the second row of children; I'm wearing the green vest, which I believe my mother sewed for me. Was this the year I portrayed the Wizard of Garbage in the play of the same name? I don't remember. 

Paths Not Taken

When I was small, I couldn't decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. Astronaut was my number one pick, followed closely by actor. Writer came in third.

You pretty much have to be a genius to be an astronaut, so that career was ruled out early on. I did make a go of acting, performing in school plays from grade school right on up to high school, staying active in the drama club and, encouraged by my Grade Nine drama teacher, auditioning for a television role in 1984. I didn't get the role, but I did become one of the show's two co-hosts.

One failed pilot later spelled the end of my media career. Sometimes I wonder what might have been different had the pilot been picked up, or had I pursued an offer to work on other projects for the network. Instead I went back to school and found that I enjoyed writing more and more. By the time I went back to the CBC, arts degree in hand, the recession of the 90s had hit and they weren't hiring anyone, least of all a rookie with barely any experience.

I no longer dream of being an astronaut (except literally every couple of months), but I still feel the acting bug from time to time. I don't claim to be good, but I wasn't terrible - at the very least, I was good enough to make it through a round of professional auditions and claim a closely-related job.

At the very least, it would be fun to gather some friends again, as I used to do during my university years, and gently coerce them into playing roles in my terrible home movies.

I'm the first to admit that I've been very fortunate; since the mid-to-late 90s I've enjoyed a wealth of rare experiences, and I can actually make a living doing something I love. But one can't help but wonder how things might have gone otherwise.