The difference between TOS and its increasingly palsied successors lies in its writing on one very basic but important element. Even the worst, goofiest TOS episodes had, if nothing else, one solid core idea underpinning the entire script and a philosophical point of view. The episodes were
about something. Even in garbage like "Spock's Brain", "Wink Of An Eye", "The Lights Of Zetar", or even "The Mark Of Gideon" (a.k.a. "Planet Of The Catholics") you can find a clear and concise idea driving the entire plotline. In "Spock's Brain", it's the issue of control and dependence. In "The Lights Of Zetar", it's the fight for personal identity and integrity. In "Wink Of An Eye", it's the threat of extinction, and in "The Mark Of Gideon" it's the danger of overpopulation (a big concern in the 60s and a valid one in some horribly impoverished regions of Earth today). Every TOS episode had a point of view, an issue. And even the worst episodes were written by people who at the very least understood dramatic pacing and conflict in television drama, so that an hour's worth of time had movement toward a defined objective —with the pace picking up speed as the hour approached its climax.
With comparatively few exceptions, the TNG-era episodes have no real conflict, no ideas, no philosophy, no issue on which they take a definitive stand. They are paced horribly, often merged with B and C plots which have little to no relation to one another in the same television hour or single runaround plots which are patched with filler material to stretch out what is actually a ten minute story into forty five minutes of airtime.
This same dichotomy extends to comparisons of the movies. Take
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier for example. Worst of the TOS movies, right? Lots of people would say so. But look at what that movie gives us as its underlying ideas, each of which mesh together into a single tapestry which drives the plot of the film:
- [•]The search for Ultimate Truth (a.k.a. "God")
[•]The meaning of Faith
[•]The nature of Fear
[•]The definition of Self.
By contrast, you would be hard pressed to yield up anything in the way of solid philosophical ideas in the TNG films. At best, they rest upon a confused melánge of unrelated themes which are tossed carelessly together into the same production and which seem to appear in each movie entirely at random. There is no focus, no unifying principle, behind any of the plots of the most recent four entries in the movie franchise.
Take
Generations for example. Just what was that movie supposed to be about? Mortality? Addiction? Fate? Making a Difference? Appreciating the Moment which will Never Come Again? Any one of these might have made a fair basis for a movie plot but the film simply jumps discontinuously between themes and never crystalises around a single core concept.
This defect is omnipresent in TNG-era ST; because you've essentially got shows which are written by committee from top to bottom and try to include so many plot ideas/elements/gimmicks that in the end you've got scripts and even whole series which are about nothing. Even if you had far better characters, they would still be plugged into situations which are wholly artificial and arbitrary. Without ideas, SF is nothing but laser beams and explosions or technobabble runarounds. Or far worse, a character soap opera because there is essentially nothing else on which to base a script. Without conflict, you can't have any real character dynamic and the end result is a bunch of people sitting around in various rooms spewing empty theory. But they've got nothing meaningful to say or do.
That is the plague of the TNG era. Nothing is contended over and nothing is decided. And that is why it comes off as so terribly bland and empty.