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.