Dylan’s rich guy problems of being an alcoholic and constantly going to Baha.
Brenda decides to become an animal activist and takes it too far (as per) and ends up arrested
Brandon decides to drink because everyone thinks he is a square, after 2 drinks gets drunk, crashes his car and vows to drink because he is angry with his drunken behaviour and therefore goes to an AA meeting. (All in one episode)
Andrea,known for being a know it all an constantly stalking Brandon.
Kelly crying because everyone in Beverly Hills knows her mum is a coke head Yikes!
Steve crying because another girl made a mug of him. (Again!)
David Silver’s unacceptable dancing and rapping. Period.
And Donna or should i say Tori Spellings acting is the most dramatic and controversial of them all
Came across this excellent short essay I’d bookmarked on the episode “Inquisition” as well as Alexander Siddig’s role as Julian Bashir and the several ways DS9 was ahead of its time. It’s over on AO3, as part of a long series of reviews, and I’m linking to it, but in the interest of having it shared and discussed here on Tumblr, I’m posting it in its entirety below.
Chapter 9: Star Trek: Deep Space 9 (Series 6, Episode 18)
You know, I once spent money on DVD sets. It’s sort of annoying that it’s all on the internet now. I mean I bought it for the Extras, and joining all the dots it’s a good thing I had the DVDs as those VHS tapes really didn’t last too long, but still.
Anyway, it’s incredibly refreshing to watch a show like DS9 and realise how amazing and thoroughly good television can be. DS9 has a lot of the usual Star Trek faults in its early series, but something happened to it around Series 4. It transformed into a heavily serialised, character-orientated storytelling and cinematic art form. Each episode became a mini-movie; the production values are fantastic, down to the carefully plotted camera shots, the rhetorical flourish of the snappy dialogue, the narrative that built larger and larger arcs and yet was never afraid of a call-back. There’s very few shows on today that match the quality of those 1990s types of shows; the sheer dedication long-form narrative is probably unparalleled in today’s mainstream television format. It requires and expects a commitment from the audience that producers seem to fear these days. The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, and other American cable series are reaching for the same thing, but it’s almost quintessentially anti-British. I imagine it has a lot to do with budget, but it also seems to be a cultural artefact. British television lends itself well to shorter series, episodic plotting, and set-pieces rather than long-form character development. When we try to go American, we end up with Downton Abbey, and I’m sure I speak for many at this point in time when I say we quite wish we wouldn’t.
Then, too, DS9 was politically prescient. Did you know that DS9 invented both the Anti-Terrorism, Crime and Security Act (UK)-cum-Patriot Act (USA) and the rendition of Arab men to black-site prisons? It’s true. I’m talking about, of course, the excellent episode ‘Inquisition’. 'Inquisition’ is one of the best of DS9’s episodes, reaching almost unsurpassed heights of tension, character development, narrative twists, and sheer Aristotlean prowess of conflict creation.
It builds on a character who’d been a little lost in previous series. Dr Bashir was hardly a cypher, but he was more archetype than fully-fleshed human being until about Series 5. 'The Wire’ explored Bashir’s humanity– his expansive compassion, with all its consequences and its personal costs– but we essentially hadn’t learnt anything new about Bashir since the pilot. He’s a good doctor, he’s a nice guy, he’s a little arrogant in his abilities and intellect, he’s both open-minded and naive in that way of liberal bleeding-heart Star Trek heroes, and… that’s about it, until the Series 5 revelation that he’s genetically enhanced. Suddenly he’s not just those things– he’s those things and a fraud. A liar. A man who’s hidden a dangerous and explosive secret for thirty years, perhaps so deeply that he himself didn’t even think about it most of the time. But the intimation that Bashir had any kind of depths to him created instantaneous layers. Suddenly the slightly contradictory facts of his childhood come into focus. Suddenly the blank slate of his life previous to his post on DS9 is deliberate, not careless, writing. His friendship with Garak, the consummate outsider, becomes a desperate search for personal truth looking into a mirror of a future of a exile, not a foil of Otherness.
And most importantly of all, Bashir’s history of questionable decisions must come into new light. He’s not just a naif with a youthful zeal for saving life in all its forms, even his enemies. When you wrangle with that amount of genetically enhanced intelligence, you have to anticipate that he weighed the consequences and chose his path knowing more than you did about how it might end. That’s where 'Inquisition’ is so brilliant. Julian Bashir is not an easy character– he was hard to love in the beginning, then hard to beat, and suddenly he’s hard to accept as part of the Star Trekparadigm. To confront him within the bounds of that very paradigm– that truth, that justice, that very rigid moral code that demands an odd kind of obedience to a uniform way of life– Bashir suddenly looks suspicious.
'Inquisition’ took everything we knew about Bashir and re-interrogated it. Why is he so dedicated a doctor? Is he really saving lives– or is he just trying to be better than all of us? Does he express such compassion for aliens and enemies because he views all life as equal, or because he’s secretly in sympathy for their Otherness? And for being different, Bashir is interrogated, stripped of his rights, treated like an outsider, vilified by his own command. His Captain, that father figure Sisko, doesn’t believe him when he says it’s a frame job.
And the show very deliberately puts the audience in the dark. Our sympathy is always with Bashir, but we’re allowed to doubt him along with his friends– to the point where Julian even doubts himself. And suddenly the colourless world of Star Trek has a dark-skinned man being accused by white police of complicity in a war with religious and imperial overtones; he’s a spy, he’s a liar, he’s taking advantage of our open society to bring us down from within. Julian Bashir becomes a literal darkness within Star Trek’s pristine lightness. The layers in 'Inquisition’ are amazing. Remember, too, that this was written in 1996. An Arab character gets accused of being a sleeper agent and, when the accusation builds to the right pitch of hysteria, the white policeman accusing him uses an executive order of unimaginable reach and power to remove Bashir from his right to counsel and protection to a secret prison to undergo enhanced interrogation techniques. Damn, Star Trek.
But that’s not the end. Bashir’s innocence is perhaps never truly in doubt. While we wonder and while we view him in a new light and while Bashir himself is pushed, eventually, to admit that he’s made decisions that he wouldn’t take back but which understandably place him outside the realm of Star Trek’s bright moral universe, we know in our hearts he’s not an evil man. So the revelation that he’s actually innocent is no real shock. What is– and here’s where 'Inquisition’ goes from good episode to great episode– is that the same qualities that cast Julian into shame and doubt are the qualities that make him a perfect spy for real. Julian gets an offer to join Star Trek’s equivalent of MI5, or the KGB, or the CIA– and being the wonderful Julian Bashir that he is, he of course refuses.
And then– when this goes from being a great episode to a fantastic episode– his captain orders him to join them anyway. To spy on them from within as a double agent.
It’s important to remember that the Original and Next Generation Star Treks would never have risked something so dark, something so grey-edged, and something that implied such serialisation. Picard would have thundered and clashed with his admirals and reamed them all out at episode’s end. Sisko admits that Section 31 exists and decides to go after it– but not on his own terms. He puts his crew in danger to do it. And Julian is a particularly vulnerable character, for all the reasons 'Inquisition’ has just explained. There’s very little protection for Julian if he does as he’s ordered, and his grim, confused expression at the end suggests he knows it. And knows that for all the reasons he’s vulnerable, he also has to do as he’s told. He’s too suspicious if he doesn’t provide his commanders reasons to trust him.
Alexander Siddig has gone on to play a range of Arab-ish baddies since he’s left Star Trek, in the post-terrorism age. It’s interesting to look back at Star Trek and recall that he was cast not as an Arab doctor, nor even as an English one; in the peculiarly American slant that Star Trek always had, Bashir was merely a little exotic, but almost blandly so, a little high-class but not identifiably so, a little foreign, but still totally familiar. And he was cast in foil to Elim Garak, the most obvious 'Outsider’ that ever was, so the image of a brown-skinned doctor born to lower-class parents who enhanced their physically and mentally retarded child is all too easily lost against the background of aliens and lost souls. But I think Bashir was one of Sid’s best creations: someone fully human, maybe even super-human– enhanced, yes, but also superlatively sensitive to the demands of humanity because he knew better than most how easy it is to be stripped of that humanity. In the most haunting line of 'Dr Bashir, I Presume?’, Bashir says to his father, 'You’re not my father. You’re my architect.’ 'Inquisition’ preys on every fear we have about our own foolish youth, our rash actions, our innermost doubts about our identity and our inclusiveness and our ability to be related to by our fellow humans. At the end of the day, we want to be believed in. It’s all too easy for that facade to crumble.