Wil Wheaton

Funny story about that.

We were filming on the bridge. The scene started with Wesley standing, and after half a page or so, he sits down at the conn and I think plots a course or something.

Whenever Wesley sat down, he pulled his jacket tight, just like Picard always did. If you look, you'll see that we all do that. That's an important bit of context: we all did that.

So it was like take four of the scene. After we cut on take three, this producer came into the set and stood off camera, just to the right of the viewscreen, as we were looking at it. We do take four, and while we are resetting for take five, this producer comes over to me, leans down so nobody can hear him, and says, "You can't pull your tunic down like that. That's the Picard Maneuver, and only Picard can do that."

So, first of all: this guy is so far out of his lane, he isn't on the map. If anyone is ever going to talk to an actor, especially in between takes, it always goes through the First Assistant Director, and the Director. It's a matter of professional respect, and it's important for our work. If anyone can come up and give us notes or whatever, we will end up with all these conflicting notes, unsure which one to actually listen to.

I know all of this, but I don't want to get in trouble, so I just say, "...okay. How am I supposed to stop it from riding up to my tits when I sit down? Because that's what happens."

He looks so annoyed at me, and sort of bark-whispers, "Just don't touch it." And he walks away.

I am about to engage in a bit of passive resistance, a bit of malicious compliance, because I am so tired of being treated differently than these same people treat the adults, and I still haven't learned how to speak up for myself, directly.

We reset, they roll, and when Wesley sits down, his tunic comes all the way up, just like I said it would. It exposes my fake muscle suit, my bracers holding up my trousers, and absolutely ruins the take.

"Cut!" The director calls from offstage.

"Wil, you have to pull your tunic down," he says, with this tone of utter confusion. Like, obviously.

"Yeah, I know," I say, looking straight at the guy who is about to wish he'd stayed in his lane, "but [his name] told me that I wasn't allowed to do the Picard Maneuver, so..." and I shrug, the tunic still bunched up.

That guy turned so bright red, he lit up in the darkness. Everyone on the entire crew looked at him. He sputtered something, and quickly walked out of the stage.

I made eye contact with Brent and with Frakes. They both looked back at me, communicating their approval. It felt great.

That guy never gave me a note again. If I recall correctly, my little tunic tug (similar to, yet legally distinctly different from the Picard Maneuver) is in the final cut of the episode.