Star Trek has always been about the big guys. You know, the captains standing heroically on the bridge, the first officers making life-or-death tactical calls, and the occasional god-like entity threatening to blink the galaxy out of existence. But Star Trek: Lower Decks flipped the script. It stopped looking at the viewscreen and started looking at the people scrubbing the carbon filters in the Jefferies tubes. Honestly, it’s about time.
The show centers on the USS Cerritos. It isn't the Enterprise. It’s a California-class ship, which basically means it’s the minivan of Starfleet. While the big ships are out there discovering new life and new civilizations, the crew of the Cerritos is usually stuck doing "Second Contact." That means they show up after the hero ship has left to do the boring paperwork, set up the communications relays, and make sure the locals actually know how to use the replicators. It's unglamorous. It's messy. It’s exactly why the show works so well.
The Chaos of Ensign Life
Most Trek shows treat Starfleet like a high-functioning utopia where everyone is a perfect professional. Star Trek: Lower Decks admits that even in the 24th century, people are still kind of a disaster. You’ve got Beckett Mariner, who is arguably the most talented officer on the ship but hates the bureaucracy so much she constantly demotes herself. Then there’s Brad Boimler, who lives for the rules and wants nothing more than to be a captain one day, even if his nerves usually get the better of him.
The dynamic between these two—and their friends D'Vana Tendi and Sam Rutherford—is the heart of the series. Tendi is a bright-eyed Orion scientist who just loves everything about Starfleet, while Rutherford is an engineer with a cyborg implant that sometimes malfunctions at the worst possible moments. They aren't legends. They’re just people trying to do their jobs without getting eaten by a Mugato or sucked into a temporal rift.
Mike McMahan, the creator of the show, came from Rick and Morty, and you can definitely feel that energy. But unlike Rick and Morty, which can get pretty cynical, Lower Decks is deeply earnest. It loves Star Trek. Like, really loves it. Every episode is packed with deep-cut references to The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and even the weirdly obscure stuff from The Animated Series. It’s a show made by fans, for fans, but it manages to stay accessible because the character stakes are so grounded.
👉 See also: Clark W Griswold Sweater: What Most People Get Wrong About This 80s Icon
Why the Animation Matters
Animation was the perfect choice here. In live-action, Star Trek is expensive. Every new planet requires a massive budget for sets, makeup, and CGI. By going the animated route, Lower Decks can go anywhere. One week they’re in a simulation of a Borg cube, and the next they’re visiting a planet inhabited entirely by sentient rocks. It allows the scale to be massive while keeping the focus on the comedy.
It also allows for some wild physical comedy that wouldn't work in live-action. Seeing Boimler get dragged through a ship by a shapeshifting alien or watching Mariner pull off an impossible stunt feels natural in this medium. It captures the "vibe" of the 90s Trek era—specifically that bright, clean aesthetic of the Enterprise-D—while updating it for a modern audience that likes things a bit faster and a bit funnier.
Deconstructing the Starfleet Myth
One of the coolest things about Star Trek: Lower Decks is how it deconstructs the tropes we’ve taken for granted for decades. We always see the "Bridge Crew" as these stoic icons. In Lower Decks, we see how the decisions made on the bridge actually affect the people working in the lower levels. When the Captain decides to go to Red Alert, it’s the Ensigns who have to drop their lunch and sprint to their stations, often with no idea what's actually happening.
The show also touches on the reality of being a "support" ship. Captain Carol Freeman, who happens to be Mariner’s mother, is constantly trying to prove that the Cerritos is just as important as the Sovereign-class ships. There’s a real sense of "middle management" struggle that anyone who has ever worked a corporate job can relate to. You’re doing the work, you’re following the protocols, but the guys at HQ (or on the Enterprise) get all the glory.
The Evolution of the California Class
As the seasons progress, the show does something surprising: it lets the characters grow. This isn't a stagnant sitcom where everything resets at the end of thirty minutes. Characters get promoted. They deal with trauma. They face the consequences of their actions.
🔗 Read more: Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb and Why It Was the End of an Era
- Mariner eventually has to confront her fear of responsibility.
- Boimler gains actual confidence (sometimes too much).
- Tendi explores her complex relationship with her Orion heritage.
- Rutherford uncovers a massive conspiracy involving his cybernetic past.
It’s this balance of high-stakes sci-fi plotting and low-stakes interpersonal drama that makes the show special. You might come for the jokes about "Spock Helmets" or "The Koala," but you stay because you actually care if these four friends survive their next away mission.
Addressing the Canon Debate
Some "purists" initially worried that a comedy would ruin the "sanctity" of Star Trek. That’s nonsense. Trek has always been funny—look at "The Trouble with Tribbles" or "A Piece of the Action." Lower Decks just leans into the absurdity that is already baked into the DNA of the franchise. It doesn't break canon; it enriches it. By showing us the mundane parts of the Federation, the galaxy feels bigger and more lived-in.
It also isn't afraid to be dark. There are moments of genuine danger and loss. The Season 1 finale, "No Small Parts," proved that the show could handle high-intensity space battles just as well as any live-action series. It’s a testament to the writing that they can pivot from a joke about a "buffer time" to a legitimate tear-jerker moment in a matter of seconds.
How to Watch and What to Look For
If you’re diving into Star Trek: Lower Decks for the first time, don’t worry about knowing every single detail of Trek history. The show explains what you need to know. But if you are a veteran Trekkie, keep your eyes peeled for the background details. The showrunners hide "Easter eggs" in almost every frame, from background aliens to specific LCARS displays.
The series is currently a staple of the Paramount+ lineup, and with its fifth and final season having wrapped up, it stands as a complete, cohesive journey. It’s a rare example of a spin-off that finds its own voice while being intensely respectful of the source material.
🔗 Read more: Cast of A Wesley Christmas Wedding: Why This Ensemble Just Works
Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Trekkie
To get the most out of your Lower Decks experience, try these steps:
Start with the basics. If you’ve never seen Star Trek, watch a few "greatest hits" episodes of The Next Generation first. "The Best of Both Worlds" or "Yesterday's Enterprise" will give you the context for the world Lower Decks is playing in.
Watch for the "Lower Decks" episode. There is an actual episode in The Next Generation (Season 7, Episode 15) titled "Lower Decks." It served as a major inspiration for the show and provides a much more serious look at the same concept.
Pay attention to the sound design. The creators used the original sound effects from the 90s shows. The hum of the engines, the chirp of the comms, and the bleep of the tricorders are all authentic. It’s a huge part of why the show feels like "real" Trek despite being a cartoon.
Don't skip the "Crisis Point" episodes. These are the show's movie parodies, and they are brilliant. They poke fun at the tropes of the Star Trek films—the lingering ship shots, the lens flares, and the over-the-top villain monologues.
Follow the creator. Mike McMahan is very active in the community. Looking into his interviews provides a lot of insight into why certain obscure characters (like the Pakleds) were brought back as major threats.
Star Trek: Lower Decks proves that you don’t need to be a legendary captain to make a difference in the galaxy. Sometimes, just being the person who keeps the ship running is enough. It’s a celebration of the unsung heroes, the weirdos, and the people who just really love space.