“Mudd’s Women” is about self-confidence and beauty being more than skin deep. But it doesn’t accomplish its goal particularly well. The message itself is a worthy one. And I like that a television show had the courage to approach such a topic. But at odds with the episode’s intended message is a worldview about women that is stuck in the 1960s mindset. Add to it the caricatures of “Mudd’s women,” and Mudd’s character himself, and you have an episode that is almost as shallow as the skin-deep beauty it purports to criticize.

The episode begins with the Enterprise pursuing an unidentified ship through the deep reaches of space. The unknown ship stresses its engines to the breaking point and drifts into the midst of an asteroid belt. The Enterprise uses its deflectors to protect the ship, but only at the risk of burning out its own engines. With the Enterprise’s systems on the verge of overload, they finally manage to beam aboard the captain of the mysterious ship and his cargo – three very beautiful women.

The opening sequence was played for drama and suspense, but unfortunately, it ended up coming across as rather flat and uninspired. What these scenes do establish are two central storylines for the episode. The first has to do with the dilithium crystals which fuel the ship’s engines. The stress destroys them all, forcing the ship to run on battery power – a limited supply that will soon run out. The second, and most prominent story, involves the mystery of Mudd’s women – why they are cargo, and how it is that their beauty is so hypnotically captivating.

While the sequence of events in the episode isn’t precisely predictable, the plot is, nonetheless, rather pedestrian. As the episode unfolds, Kirk holds a disciplinary hearing against Mudd for some petty transgressions, and for the fact that Mudd’s lack of cooperation has put the Enterprise at risk. And the women, for most of the episode, simply strut around and are merely eye candy. Not that I’m necessarily complaining – the women are indeed beautiful – but as the real story unfolds, as we begin to see the characters, the message seems to be contradictory to having women parade around as a visual feast.

I suppose that it could be argued that the episode was objectifying the women to prove the point – to get the viewer to see the women only visually, as a means to prove the point and make the lesson more personal. If so, that’s certainly a unique approach – but the point is lost because not only does the episode clearly delight in showcasing the beauty of the women, but also because it takes so long for the episode to delve beneath the surface of the characters. Add in the fact that the women use their beauty to nefariously gather information about the ship – and add in the fact that the worldview for women that episode eventually advocates is less than equitable – and the net result is a loss.

As it turns out, Mudd’s women are looking for husbands. They had been on a voyage to a remote location to be sold, as a commodity, for their services. It’s a strange take on the kinds of roles women should play in society, as if simply having a husband is the epitome of their desires – whereas the epitome of a man’s desire is simply to have a woman that looks beautiful (and cooks). With their original destination no longer within reach, the mission to retrieve the dilithium crystals provides a second chance for their business propositions.

Complicating the plot is the revelation that these women would in fact be rather displeasing to look at, were it not for a mysterious pill that Mudd provides for them. It’s an artificial means by which they project their attractiveness. If they don’t take the pill, they become “ugly.” And it becomes the basis for the episode’s ultimate message about beauty. At one point, Dr. McCoy muses about why these particular women are so alluring. He asks, “Is it that they act beautiful?” The implication behind his thoughts is the question of whether or not true beauty is a projection of how one feels about oneself. As we will learn, the episode believes that, indeed, beauty is a product of your own inner confidence and self-esteem.

Eventually, the women agree to be husbands to the dilithium crystal miners. But when one woman, named Eve, hesitates because she has developed feelings for Kirk. The miners then fight over the remaining two women and Eve rushes out into a storm. After a protracted search – in which the need for acquiring crystals was supposed to make more dramatic – Eve is found by one of the miners. He awakes to her cooking him a meal. The two argue and fuss like an old married couple

When Kirk and Mudd finally arrive, Eve confronts the miner about what he really wants – just a beautiful woman to look at? Or a wife? And in this case, a wife is presented as a woman to cook, make sure the house is clean and so forth. The true underlying message, that a companion is more important than a trophy, is absolutely a compelling one. It’s unfortunate, then, that the “ideal” of a companion as presented by the episode is so dated to the mid-twentieth century.

Eventually, Eve’s beauty fades. Mudd offers her a pill, which she takes, and which has the intended effect. The twist is that the pill was actually a placebo. Eve’s transformation from “ugly” to “beautiful” happened only because she believed it was possible. The message here, obviously, is that, to answer Dr. McCoy’s question, true beauty comes from within. Again, it’s a worthy message. But once again, the message is “mudd”led by the episode.

It’s ironic that, in the final scene of the episode, a bit of dialogue between Spock and Dr. McCoy perfectly sums up “Mudd’s Women.” Spock says, “I’m happy the affair is over. A most annoying, emotional episode.” To which McCoy replies, sarcastically, “Smack right in the ol’ heart.” Indeed, the episode did have a heart. But indeed, it was mostly annoying.

Filed under: Original Series