Moviegoing with Captain Picard

Dear Moviegoers,

To those who are as ever-online as I am, finding breaking news of a pop-culture figure's passing on any social platform can be more than a mere bummer. Not because anything negative is unwanted - such things can bring out the best in people - but rather some expressions of loss can range from the silly to the absurdly offensive.

Still, who are we to deter someone from grieving in their own way?

Yesterday, the mighty actor Patrick Stewart passed on. He was 86 years young.

Now, I'm not good at obits (obituaries), so in place of covering his catalog of performances, from Shakespeare to Marvel (his final film appearance will be in Avengers: Doomsday this December), I'd like to submit to you, kind readers, a fond moviegoing memory:

I forget the exact date, but it was an afternoon in Lawrenceville, Georgia, with one of my best friends, Derek. We're seated for Star Trek: First Contact, at a time in my life when space exploration, Baseball, and movies occupied my young mind. It's at AMC Colonial 18. On film. Real film. The tangible kind.

Star Trek was never really my thing, except for the films, IV being my favorite at the time. I respected what the show represented, but I, more or less, had Nicktoons to watch instead. Derek was a fan, so when invited to the movies, I obliged. Of course I would, as I went every week and weekend.

"Adrift, but salvageable."
"The line must be drawn here!"
"AHHHHHHHH!"

Patrick Stewart, as Captain Picard, went through the wringer in this movie. I never really understood his character to be an action hero, but I went with it. I dug it, even. Somehow, retcons be damned, watching Stewart mow down some Borg with a Tommy gun was compelling. Exciting, sure. Compelling, more so.

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Indeed, his Picard, in this movie, exuded such rageful desperation and bad dude-mode fighting fortitude that I nearly cried. This was a tormented man, falling past the line of diplomacy and to the other side. Another actor would simply be Chuck Norris-style stoic. Stewart? There's anger, there's sadness, there's contradiction, and there's the worst of us, bottled up and let loose.

Of course, Stewart pulls Picard back from the brink, to save the day and break a Queen's neck all at once. The way he cradled the Borg leader's robot head, with levels of trauma and relief, was worthy of Thor's hammer.

Derek and I left the theater exhausted, but with enough energy to goof around at his grandparents' home. Outside, we roughed around with his brother for a while. By myself, I wandered off, recalling First Contact's final moments. When humans met with the Vulcans. When Picard bid farewell. When he led the crew of the Enterprise back into the dark forever, at full warp speed.

Then I accidentally hit my eye with a stick. That sucked.

Still, it was a fun day.

And now, to paraphrase a line from Captain Kirk in Star Trek VI:

Straight on until morning, sir.

RIP.