“The Legend of Vox Machina” Review

While I did not watch or follow it, I am familiar with Critical Role’s phenomenally successful live stream Vox Machina like most gamers. Amazon Prime’s animated adaptation promised to bring the familiar characters and adventures to a different screen while remaining faithful to its light-hearted but adult premise.

I find using the term “adaptation” strange. It acknowledges that what works for a Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) live stream may not work for an animated series. They are different media.  

For example, D&D’s combat mechanics have always been abstract, focusing on die rolls and points systems to represent to tos and fros. Any narrative is emergent, like a lucky high dice roll or a string of unlucky low ones. D&D’s mechanics for hitting secret weak points or fighting internal struggles, both present in the show, are absent or poor.

The enjoyment of D&D comes from the interplay between friends sitting around a table. The players inject modern attitudes and sensibilities into a medieval-like fantasy world that lacks real repercussions for the players, if not their characters. D&D allowed players to be superheroes before superheroes were cool.

Unlike traditional media, D&D players save the world not because the story demands it but through agency and collaborative story-telling. While D&D’s designers biased the mechanics toward the players, failure is often only a single dice roll away. Real-life intrusions also mean players sometimes need to be absent, like Pike’s pilgrimage.

That said, Vox Machina‘s live stream was always partially scripted. Preparing songs or inter-player interactions is, otherwise, difficult. 

These factors put the show The Legend of Vox Machina (or just Vox Machina) in an enviable and challenging position. Enviable because its huge audience will enjoy the new perspective on familiar characters and events. The group’s adventures already contain narrative highs, twists and lows.

However, its position is challenging because combat in most media is a narrative tool, not the central focus as in D&D. Narrative twists in D&D, like betrayal, need to be simple and telegraphed to see them amongst distracting banter. Players relish tropes at the game table that can be tired and overused in traditional media.

On the whole, Vox Machina delivers. The players, an extended “five-man band”, work through two story arcs, with the Briarwood arc being the longest. There are enough turns to keep the audience guessing and subtle nods to the live stream for long time watchers to feel nostalgic, like problems with opening doors.

Vox Machina has had to divest itself of anything potentially trademarked or copyrighted. Gone are the signature D&D spells and abilities and Scalan’s lewd songs. However, the show suffers little for their loss. Divorcing it from pop culture and D&D’s rules make the show more accessible and timeless. Compressing forty hours of D&D down to six also forces the show to focus. 

The main problem with Vox Machina is its contemporary fantasy animations, like Arcane, offer far deeper thematic treatment. While humanizing the Briarwoods and Percy dealing with the overwhelming desire for revenge are notable, the show’s roots in D&D keep it superficial. It mainly falls back on the milquetoast “strength of friendship”.

Vox Machina’s D&D roots also constrain character development. Percy’s revenge arc and a short, shallow romantic plotline notwithstanding, the characters exist as escapist fantasy – the tabletop equivalent of sports stars – and not tools in a storyteller’s toolset. Other tabletop role playing games have better mechanics to capture and tell these stories.

However, Vox Machina heralds a new acceptance of tabletop role playing games like D&D. Gone are the 1980s when special interest groups ignorantly decried it as a bastion of satanism and witchcraft. Several unmemorable D&D movies came and went. With the increasing “nerdification” of popular culture, D&D has gone from lounge rooms to Twitch streams to standing shoulder-to-shoulder with more accepted media. 

As someone that has enjoyed tabletop games for over thirty years, I would have loved to share many of my adventures. While many fantasy tabletop adventures resemble Monty Python more than Tolkein and science fiction tabletop adventures resemble Douglas Adams more than Asimov, they are still communal experiences in popular culture.

Vox Machina gets to the heart of what makes D&D great. It is not using signature spells or characters from published settings. It is channelling the camaraderie and humour of friends sitting around a table without degenerating into farce. Vox Machina teases fourth wall breaks without doing so, having fun without self-deprecation. 

Vox Machina is a good show and a great adaptation. Its D&D roots both propel it with momentum and enthusiasm and constrain it from anything too deep. Existing fans will find it enthralling, non-fans possibly less so, but its fast pace and accessibility will enamour it to many.

“Star Trek: Lower Decks” Seasons 1 and 2 Review

Star Trek: Lower Decks, an animated series available on Amazon Prime Video and Paramount+, is Star Trek’s attempt to tread the well-worn path of self-deprecation. It pokes fun at the seemingly pretentious and self-important Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine era.

Other recent Star Trek shows like Discovery or Picard have leveraged technology to create gorgeously detailed ships, photo-realistic sets and better special effects. However, Star Trek: Lower Decks’ simple animation style does the opposite, making it disarmingly accessible for an audience that still considers animation a vehicle primarily for children or comedy.

Similarly, while those with a comprehensive recollection of the earlier series will find many subtle and humorous references, Star Trek has permeated the Western cultural consciousness enough for most to understand the settings and premises.

Star Trek: Lower Decks segregates itself from the franchise’s previous incarnations from the first scene. The credits, replete with the characteristic blue font on a starry background and brassy theme song, show an uncharacteristically unheroic U.S.S. Cerritos fleeing danger or screwing up. A star fleet ensign drinks blue Romulan whiskey when on duty, “lampshading” that it is not the cannon green Romulan ale. 

Star Trek: Lower Decks is not about “boldly going where no one has gone before”. The U.S.S. Cerritos, Spanish for an uninspiring “little hills”, does routine and less glamourous “second contact” missions. The main characters are not on the glamourous, charismatic and high-stakes bridge crew but the ensigns who perform thankless, routine maintenance and sleep at the ship’s rear.

The show humanizes the crew by focusing on flawed but relatable characters. We follow Boimler, who is bookish and obsessed with promotion. Tendi is a naive but optimistic and brilliant scientist working in medicine. Rutherford is an engineer who genuinely loves his work, oblivious to all else. 

However, Mariner steals the spotlight. She is a skilled Starfleet officer but constantly rebels, whether by the subtle rolled-up sleeves, smuggling contraband, or openly disobeying orders. 

The writers intended her to represent experience and savviness chaffing at Starfleet’s rigidity and regulations. She yawns at mission briefings and breaks more rules than she follows.

Perhaps Star Trek: Lower Decks is trying to be relatable and say that there is still a place for the rest of us in a franchise full of over-achievers. Talent and intelligence are nothing without wisdom and cunning. 

However, Mariner is hardly an underdog. Her uncanny ability puts her on a level above most and the U.S.S. Cerritos’ captain protects Mariner from any real consequences of her actions, tacitly glorifying her insubordination. These threaten to change her character from a relatably cool rebel to an unbelievably competent “Mary Sue”. Why create such a character?

Star Trek: Lower Decks is all about status. Are the privileges of rank deserved? Is there a pecking order between those of the same rank? Would Starfleet be a strict meritocracy, as cannon implies, or would the attractive and charismatic but less able rise to the top? 

Mariner constantly exposes and stresses the established hierarchy. For example, she practically ridicules Boimler in the episode “Envoys”, showing savviness beats knowledge. However, the Riker caricature first officer humbles her in the following episode by showing unforeseen skill and wisdom.

Mariner is the antagonistic foil to the other main characters. She berates Boimler for his bookishness and insecurity, is the pessimist to Tendi’s optimism and the leader to fill Rutherford’s vacuum of purpose.

Unfortunately, Mariner’s role sometimes lessens the show with too much unresolved and unnecessary interpersonal drama. She constantly dismisses her competency and, by doing so, others’. A good example is Mariner revealing she actually listened to the mission brief in the episode “Moist Vessel” (an unnecessary double entendre that will elicit an immature giggle from the intended audience) when she saves the day after arguing with the captain most of the episode.

The first series tries to give some thematic insight, such as dealing with the ecological and social implications of destroying an errant moon in “Cupid’s Errant Arrow”. However, the first series’ pacing and structure draws more from sitcoms, focusing on irony and absurdity, and lacks Futurama’s satire or Orville’s heart.

Sitcoms rely on characters remaining consistent and avoiding change. However, stagnation frustrates. Mariner’s relationships and past need confronting. Boimler needs to grow past his insecurities into the officer he aspires to be. Tendi needs the self-confidence to realize her brilliance. Rutherford requires the self-awareness that he is more than an excellent engineer.

Thankfully, characters start to develop in the second series. Boimler gets his revenge for “Envoys”. Rutherford and Tendi gain respect and leadership opportunities. The ensigns are paired differently, showing different parts of their personalities. Mariner relaxes from the constant antagonist role. 

The second series also examines its source material and themes more closely. It contrasts the U.S.S. Titan’s bravado and militarism with the U.S.S. Cerritos’ dedication and determination, mirroring Starfleet’s identity crisis. It depicts the Pakleds as both comically naive and dangerously unpredictable, a brilliantly relevant and thematically helpful portrayal. Appearance and charisma lose out to effort and ability in “wej Duj”. The final episode cleverly contrasts the “Lower Decks” experience for crews from different races.

The highlight vocal performance is Jeffery Combs as Agimus in the episode “Where Pleasant Fountains Lie”. The actor who portrayed Weyoun in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Shran in Star Trek: Enterprise shifts effortlessly between menace and insincere manipulation.

The best thing about Star Trek: Lower Decks is that it treats the franchise with both satire and respect. Star Trek has always been slightly absurd, where crew members are as likely to die from a Klingon Bat’leth as sentient ice cream. Unlike other Star Trek shows, Star Trek: Lower Decks leverages this absurdity to tell refreshingly different stories from different perspectives.