rating: ****
the story: The crew goes in search of the missing Spock.
similar to: "Blood Oath" (Deep Space Nine)
my thoughts: "Unification" as a whole is about as important a Next Generation story as there ever was. At once acknowledging the ongoing significance of the recent "Redemption" crisis, it's the next great serialized chapter of the series, further signaling the approach Deep Space Nine would take and what viewers in general would come to demand of their favorite TV shows, even ones formerly most comfortable in and indeed known for their episodic format like Star Trek.
It's the first great Next Generation Romulan story since "The Defector," and, like another third season episode, bridges the gap between the series and its classic predecessor in a meaningful way. Speaking of which "Unification, Part 1" features the death of Sarek, who previously appeared in the series in the namesake episode, a moment that had original series fans take Next Generation seriously for the first time, and in an even bigger moment, Spock expanding his presence in the franchise.
Ever since McCoy's cameo in "Encounter at Farpoint," crossover characters became a franchise staple. Scotty would later appear in "Relics," and of course there's Star Trek Generations, which saw Picard meet Kirk, plus a plethora of others from throughout succeeding series (most controversially, Riker and Troi in Enterprise's final episode, "These Are the Voyages..."). Yet Spock is a seismic member of this club, duplicating his "Unification" impact in Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness as he helps launch a new version of the franchise.
Outside of "Unification," however, only Deep Space Nine's "Blood Oath," in which three actors who portrayed Klingons in the original series return to reprise their roles, features a scenario that feels organic, suitably dramatic, and true to character.
As for the episode itself, besides the Klingon references, there's also Riker investigating a Zackdorn shipyard. The Zackdorn are a Next Generation alien species previously featured in "Peak Performance." They fall below the Benzites as early attempts to create distinctive new aliens with any kind of staying power, mostly because "Performance" presents a thoroughly unappealing version of the species. The effort in "Unification" is better, with a better-defined bureaucratic nature that puts them in unique, distinctive footing. Even if this is still the Zackdorns' last appearance, it leaves plenty of room for further exploration.
The episode features a cornucopia of notable guest-stars, which I point out in advance of the usual feature, just to give you a head's up. It's a whopper of an episode, but everything's better in the second part...
criteria analysis: franchise - series - character - essential (all criteria met)
notable guest-stars:
Leonard Nimoy (Spock)
Mark Lenard (Sarek)
Stephen Root
Erick Avari
Malachi Throne
Daniel Roebuck
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Showing posts with label Mark Lenard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Lenard. Show all posts
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Sunday, October 26, 2014
The Animated Series 1x2 "Yesteryear"
rating: ****
Memory Alpha summary
A lot of fans don't consider The Animated Series to be part of official canon, but then, a lot fans also acknowledge the significance of "Yesteryear" itself, the most routinely-praised episode of the series.
It's significant in a number of ways, actually. The least significant element is the return of the Guardian of Forever from "City on the Edge of Forever," which has apparently become a routine tool for studying history.
The episode is better known for Spock's journey to his own past. The framing story deals with altered history (due to his trip, Spock is actually erased from history, and he's replaced by an Andorian among the Enterprise crew), but that's just more window-dressing. This visit to Vulcan involves the return of his parents Sarek and Amanda, last seen in "Journey to Babel" and an examination of Spock's inner turmoil concerning his dual Vulcan-human lineage. It also features a Vulcan rite-of-passage ritual and Spock's pet! Established plenty that later ended up in other episodes, thereby solidifying it as part of the canon.
Lots of details. They're all good. It's the most fascinating episode of the series.
Star Trek (the 2009 reboot) even has conscious echoes of "Yesteryear," from a conversation Spock and Sarek have to the bullying the young Spock faces from his peers.
It's one of the earliest direct character studies of the franchise and on that score alone stands out from the rest of the series, which more ordinarily used its time constraints to feature the story first and the characters as a distant second.
A lot of fans don't consider The Animated Series to be part of official canon, but then, a lot fans also acknowledge the significance of "Yesteryear" itself, the most routinely-praised episode of the series.
It's significant in a number of ways, actually. The least significant element is the return of the Guardian of Forever from "City on the Edge of Forever," which has apparently become a routine tool for studying history.
The episode is better known for Spock's journey to his own past. The framing story deals with altered history (due to his trip, Spock is actually erased from history, and he's replaced by an Andorian among the Enterprise crew), but that's just more window-dressing. This visit to Vulcan involves the return of his parents Sarek and Amanda, last seen in "Journey to Babel" and an examination of Spock's inner turmoil concerning his dual Vulcan-human lineage. It also features a Vulcan rite-of-passage ritual and Spock's pet! Established plenty that later ended up in other episodes, thereby solidifying it as part of the canon.
Lots of details. They're all good. It's the most fascinating episode of the series.
Star Trek (the 2009 reboot) even has conscious echoes of "Yesteryear," from a conversation Spock and Sarek have to the bullying the young Spock faces from his peers.
 |
| via John Kenneth Muir |
By any definition a classic.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
James Doohan
Mark Lenard
Majel Roddenberry
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Star Trek 2x10 "Journey to Babel"
rating: ****
Often, the difference between an average episode and a standout one is the amount of thought put into it (okay, this is true of everything; the other relevant factor is execution, although that's pretty uniform in this series). Three major elements tossed into a single episode is extremely rare. Usually it's one gimmick apiece. Except these particular elements aren't gimmicks at all (okay, so the Andorian [FIFTY YEAR OLD SPOILER ALERT] is not an Andorian at all, but rather an Orion), especially Sarek.
This is an episode with a number of lasting legacies. One is the debut of Sarek, Spock's father (as well as his human mother Amanda). The other is the expansion of the alien landscape with the introductions of both the Andorians and Tellarites.
 |
| via Trek TV Podcast |
Meeting Spock's dad and actively exploring their relationship is a huge deviation in storytelling for the series, one so notable that Sarek became a character of remarkable endurance, appearing in later movies (The Search for Spock, The Voyage Home) and series (an eponymous episode in Next Generation) that only strengthened his legacy and helped shaped a new incarnation with greater depth (Star Trek, which admittedly was partially drawn from the Animated Series episode "Yesteryear").
Expanding the idea of the Federation beyond humans and Vulcans at the same time was equally remarkable. Despite the fact that both the Andorians and Tellarites had to wait until Enterprise to be revisited and expanded on, even merely their looks proved enduring (Tellarites, the "pig aliens" for obvious reasons, while Andorians kept popping up in the background for years).
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Mark Lenard
Jane Wyatt
Monday, March 31, 2014
Star Trek 1x14 "Balance of Terror"
rating: ****
Memory Alpha summary
"Balance of Terror" is easily one of the most remarkable episodes of the whole series, let alone first season, and since it's the debut of the Romulans, essential to the whole franchise. It's the first time Star Trek got everything right the first shot, too.
So yeah, it's got a lot going for it.
It seems a little wrong, somehow, that the Romulans appeared for the first time before the Klingons. Both have a claim to representing in the series the Cold War conflict. The Romulans, I suppose, represented the more militaristic aspects, while the Klingons the cultural competition, which is certainly odd when you think of Klingons more as warriors and Romulans more for their isolated society. But really, it makes sense. Neither the Klingons nor Romulans actively fought against the Federation during Kirk's time. As presented in this episode, there was a war between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation about a century before, but that's a long time ago by any standard, future or otherwise.
The crucial thing about the episode is that Kirk doesn't even know what Romulans look like. The past conflict was, of course, conducted entirely aboard starships. That's perhaps how it's easy to understand the difference between the cold warriors of the series. Klingons being more aggressive, they would be much more likely to present a personal appearance, whereas Romulans, who possess such technology as cloaking devices, are much more liable to keep to themselves, despite inclinations that lead to inevitable conflicts with its neighbors.
Anyway. That's nearly beside the point. The episode itself is like a fictional version of the Cuban Missile Crisis, a standoff that could potentially lead to a conflict neither side wants. This leaves Kirk in his most dramatic moment of command yet, which makes the events of "The Corbomite Maneuver" a few episodes earlier pale in comparison, and reveals the true strength of his character. He is a remarkably versatile individual, a real leader. What's surprising is that the enemy matches him in every sense. The enemy as a nuanced individual? That's the true genius of this episode. It dares to make such a case in the middle of the Cold War.
There was perhaps a thaw that had settled in between the real world forces. By the second season, there would in fact be a Russian, an instantly beloved one, serving in Kirk's crew. So it's perhaps not completely surprising that "Balance of Terror" could happen, but it's still the most mature, daring episode of the series yet, what it looks like at its best.
There's a fair bit of melodrama inserted into the story that serves as a little bit of distraction. One of the better aspects of this element, however, is the bigotry Spock faces when the Romulans are revealed to be closely related to his Vulcan ancestors. Seldom enough, Spock's heritage is addressed directly, as well as how it affects his place among a crew made up seemingly entirely of humans. He's the alien in the room, most often viewed by fans as the classic observer but more accurately described as the outsider. A few episodes later, "The Galileo Seven" presents this more directly, but "Balance" gets there first, another reason to consider this one a classic.
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Mark Lenard
Lawrence Montaigne
Grace Lee Whitney
"Balance of Terror" is easily one of the most remarkable episodes of the whole series, let alone first season, and since it's the debut of the Romulans, essential to the whole franchise. It's the first time Star Trek got everything right the first shot, too.
So yeah, it's got a lot going for it.
It seems a little wrong, somehow, that the Romulans appeared for the first time before the Klingons. Both have a claim to representing in the series the Cold War conflict. The Romulans, I suppose, represented the more militaristic aspects, while the Klingons the cultural competition, which is certainly odd when you think of Klingons more as warriors and Romulans more for their isolated society. But really, it makes sense. Neither the Klingons nor Romulans actively fought against the Federation during Kirk's time. As presented in this episode, there was a war between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation about a century before, but that's a long time ago by any standard, future or otherwise.
The crucial thing about the episode is that Kirk doesn't even know what Romulans look like. The past conflict was, of course, conducted entirely aboard starships. That's perhaps how it's easy to understand the difference between the cold warriors of the series. Klingons being more aggressive, they would be much more likely to present a personal appearance, whereas Romulans, who possess such technology as cloaking devices, are much more liable to keep to themselves, despite inclinations that lead to inevitable conflicts with its neighbors.
Anyway. That's nearly beside the point. The episode itself is like a fictional version of the Cuban Missile Crisis, a standoff that could potentially lead to a conflict neither side wants. This leaves Kirk in his most dramatic moment of command yet, which makes the events of "The Corbomite Maneuver" a few episodes earlier pale in comparison, and reveals the true strength of his character. He is a remarkably versatile individual, a real leader. What's surprising is that the enemy matches him in every sense. The enemy as a nuanced individual? That's the true genius of this episode. It dares to make such a case in the middle of the Cold War.
There was perhaps a thaw that had settled in between the real world forces. By the second season, there would in fact be a Russian, an instantly beloved one, serving in Kirk's crew. So it's perhaps not completely surprising that "Balance of Terror" could happen, but it's still the most mature, daring episode of the series yet, what it looks like at its best.
There's a fair bit of melodrama inserted into the story that serves as a little bit of distraction. One of the better aspects of this element, however, is the bigotry Spock faces when the Romulans are revealed to be closely related to his Vulcan ancestors. Seldom enough, Spock's heritage is addressed directly, as well as how it affects his place among a crew made up seemingly entirely of humans. He's the alien in the room, most often viewed by fans as the classic observer but more accurately described as the outsider. A few episodes later, "The Galileo Seven" presents this more directly, but "Balance" gets there first, another reason to consider this one a classic.
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Mark Lenard
Lawrence Montaigne
Grace Lee Whitney
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Star Trek: The Next Generation 3x23 "Sarek"
****
This is the episode the original series never got around to, could probably have never done. It's the sequel to "Journey to Babel," which is to say Spock father Sarek's debut. "Sarek" is one of his final appearances, fittingly.
Sarek never came to peace with his son. In a way, as a Vulcan, as the traditional presentation of Vulcans go, he never could. (Incidentally, that's one of the reasons I love the 2009 Star Trek so much, because of that particular revision.) The only way he could was through Jean-Luc Picard (who in some of the final scenes in the episode go, has one of his most emotionally draining experiences ever).
The story of "Sarek" is one of those classic "final mission" stories. Sarek can no longer hide the ravages of a disease that is soon enough going to claim his life. He's losing control of his emotions, which for Vulcans is the ultimate indignity. He wants one last diplomatic success under his belt, though. He's become a legend of the Federation in his own right. He wants to preserve that legacy.
It's arguably the finest crossover episode in the franchise, where a character from one series appears in another. Part of the reason why is because it's so unexpected. Sarek, of all characters from the original series? He made one appearance in the series. He became better known for his appearances in the later films, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, actually, the first time we get a hint of what he really feels about his son.
Sarek ends up being as strong a character as ever featured in the franchise, his few appearances notwithstanding, and this is his finest hour, which only figures. Totally divorced from the presence of his son, Sarek is forced to fend for himself. Failing or not, his dignity is strong. He makes himself a legend. If this had been his only appearance, Sarek would still have left the same legacy in the franchise. That's how good this episode is.
Yes, there's a clearer bridge in the later two-part "Unification," in which Spock himself appears, where Picard is able to share hidden truths between father and son, but it's better and more resonant here. Rare is the opportunity for someone to upstage Leonard Nimoy. In his absence, Mark Lenard does exactly that. Is that the only way? It doesn't matter. Lenard doesn't let you even consider that. One of the finest hours of The Next Generation features a character from another era.
If you want to understand Star Trek at all, this is a fine place to start.
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Mark Lenard
Colm Meaney
Memory Alpha summary
This is the episode the original series never got around to, could probably have never done. It's the sequel to "Journey to Babel," which is to say Spock father Sarek's debut. "Sarek" is one of his final appearances, fittingly.
Sarek never came to peace with his son. In a way, as a Vulcan, as the traditional presentation of Vulcans go, he never could. (Incidentally, that's one of the reasons I love the 2009 Star Trek so much, because of that particular revision.) The only way he could was through Jean-Luc Picard (who in some of the final scenes in the episode go, has one of his most emotionally draining experiences ever).
The story of "Sarek" is one of those classic "final mission" stories. Sarek can no longer hide the ravages of a disease that is soon enough going to claim his life. He's losing control of his emotions, which for Vulcans is the ultimate indignity. He wants one last diplomatic success under his belt, though. He's become a legend of the Federation in his own right. He wants to preserve that legacy.
It's arguably the finest crossover episode in the franchise, where a character from one series appears in another. Part of the reason why is because it's so unexpected. Sarek, of all characters from the original series? He made one appearance in the series. He became better known for his appearances in the later films, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, actually, the first time we get a hint of what he really feels about his son.
Sarek ends up being as strong a character as ever featured in the franchise, his few appearances notwithstanding, and this is his finest hour, which only figures. Totally divorced from the presence of his son, Sarek is forced to fend for himself. Failing or not, his dignity is strong. He makes himself a legend. If this had been his only appearance, Sarek would still have left the same legacy in the franchise. That's how good this episode is.
Yes, there's a clearer bridge in the later two-part "Unification," in which Spock himself appears, where Picard is able to share hidden truths between father and son, but it's better and more resonant here. Rare is the opportunity for someone to upstage Leonard Nimoy. In his absence, Mark Lenard does exactly that. Is that the only way? It doesn't matter. Lenard doesn't let you even consider that. One of the finest hours of The Next Generation features a character from another era.
If you want to understand Star Trek at all, this is a fine place to start.
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Mark Lenard
Colm Meaney
Memory Alpha summary
Friday, September 24, 2010
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country
1991 was a special year in franchise lore. It was the twenty-fifth anniversary. Above and beyond the failure of The Final Frontier, fans still had an abundance of affection for a cast they had followed for so many years. It would take a lot more than one bad experience to kill Star Trek again, especially now that five films and a second TV series and crew had been introduced. One final film with the original cast was warranted, and probably demanded, for the occasion, and so was released The Undiscovered Country.
It may seem like an antiquated notion to modern ears, but the Cold War was still a recent subject in 1991, and social allegory had been a common theme in the original series. The closest the films had gotten with this theme had been The Voyage Home, which had ridden a wave of environmental concern to exceptional box office success. Given the recurring presence of Klingons in the films (which had probably done more than any original series appearance to popularize them), it probably wasn’t a huge leap to connect this final film’s story with them and the Cold War’s conclusion. Doing all this was probably enough to create a more successful movie. But for fans, probably the active participation of Nicholas Meyer helped put it over.
As I’ve said before, The Undiscovered Country feels like a continuation of the story begun in the trilogy, and is in a sense therefore a continuation of it (leaving the odd ducks Motion Picture and Final Frontier forever disconnected in still more ways from fan affection). To create a separate and continuing narrative was perhaps the most cinematic as well as successful thing the original crew films accomplished, and helped create the franchise just as much as the appearance of The Next Generation in 1987 and Deep Space Nine in 1993. Even if every episode of every series had been episodic, the creators couldn’t help but bleed a certain amount of continuity, which was far more inevitable because of the work the films did than the existence of the forebear TV show. In a sense, Star Trek, before Star Trek in 2009, had already rebooted itself.
The Undiscovered Country is probably the most fully realized, complete, and fulfilling of the original crew films. Where it lacks the surprise of Wrath of Khan, the scope of Search for Spock, or the fun of Voyage Home, it offers a mature product that hasn’t aged in twenty years, the first time a Star Trek experience could say that. It is as appropriate a final statement from both this crew and their movies as it can be. Fans had long known these characters were timeless. At last one of their adventures feel like it as well.
Some of the guest actors help make it that way. David Warner, as the doomed Klingon chancellor, has one of his signature roles in the franchise. Christopher Plummer is virtually rediscovered thanks to the film. Kim Cattrell, like Kirstie Alley, enters the popular consciousness thanks to Star Trek, only to find her big success with another project. All three performances add to the luster of the final project. Brock Peters returns as Admiral Cartwright, Kurtwood Smith appears as the Federation president, Christian Slater makes a cameo (okay, so if anything dates the movie, it would be the idea that this appearance would be relevant, because his star has fallen considerably since then). A popular supermodel (Iman) costars, even! We also get the first deliberate generational crossover, as Michael Dorn is shone briefly as his own ancestor, defending Kirk and Bones in Klingon court. (Scenes not shone in the original theatrical release also bring us Rene Auberjonois, a few years before he officially joins the family as Odo.)
As with virtually every other film in the series, the passage of time is clearly evoked. That would certainly be another unique element of the films, since it’s hardly routine for films, let alone a film series, to stick with a group of aging actors. Sean Connery was booed out of the Bond films forever when he definitely no longer looked like he did in the 1960s. George Takei finally gets his wish, something that was intended as far back as Wrath of Khan, when Sulu is finally shown as captain of his own ship, the Excelsior (I don’t know if anyone has ever properly made the connections here, but he made his intentions toward this ship pretty clear back in The Voyage Home, after everyone else had already made their continuing resentments from Search for Spock perfectly clear). This was only the beginning of a new Star Trek campaign that would insist a Captain Sulu TV series would work wonderfully, an argument that probably helped give us the Voyager episode “Flashback,” which is set during this film. (Maybe then we might have found out why Sulu liked that ship so much.) That Sulu’s command is a prominent element of the movie probably felt like a reward for Takei’s years of patience, and still stands apart as the only real career progress for any member of that crew.
“Flashback” isn’t even the only episode to evoke the film. A few years later, Enterprise revisited the Klingon penal colony (and court) in “Judgment.” After “Mirror, Mirror,” no single Star Trek adventure has left as much of a lasting impact as The Undiscovered Country. A lot of other films and episodes have served as lucrative launching pads, such as the introductions of Q and the Borg in Next Generation, but without even meaning to, the sixth film has managed to become an instant touchstone. It may be because it was the final original crew movie, and so automatically sticks out in franchise lore. Sulu never did get that series. No film or series ever really revisited Klingon culture in quite that way, expansive as some of them got. I would argue that, far from having exhausted itself, as many fans were arguing by 2005, Star Trek had only scratched the surface, by 1991, by 2001, and even by 2011, even though hundreds of episodes, eleven films, and countless books and comics have explored far and wide the emerging canon. The phenomenon of The Undiscovered Country is an example of that.
I don’t remember when exactly, or how, I first saw it, much like Wrath of Khan, but Undiscovered Country was pretty easy to love, as it has been, apparently, for most fans. Aside from the allegorical implications, it isn’t quite as ambitious as Khan or Voyage Home, the other unabashed successes of the first six films, so its success is more a testament to the fact that sometimes, it does pay to have a lot of history behind a Star Trek, sometimes being good at what you’ve already done is good enough. This was the last time fans allowed the creators to get away with this kind of attitude, or experience, so it’s nice to think of the film in that regard as well. Maybe it was simply that, for a change, Star Trek was merely content to tell a good story, that allowed everyone to get along so well. It wasn’t trying to do or be anything else. With nothing left to lose, the franchise in the hands of a new generation, The Undiscovered Country was like a cruise home.
I usually rank this one pretty near the top of my list when considering the film series as a whole. Even though I have a lot of glowing things to say about some of the others, and even an emerging appreciation for Wrath of Khan, which has suffered in my mind the way The Motion Picture and The Final Frontier have for others, The Undiscovered Country will probably remain that way, a consummate experience that constantly finds new ways to entertain me. You have to love a film that finally has someone ask Kirk what the heck the deal is between him and women. Or that features the hilarious first appearance of someone named “Dax.” Or finally flummoxes Scotty with the basic laws of physics.
I don’t know, go and watch it again yourself. One final piece of endorsement: The Undiscovered Country probably also has the most distinctive and interesting of all the movie titles, as well as the feel of what the original series used to do all the time with its episodes, a trend Deep Space Nine would later continue.
It may seem like an antiquated notion to modern ears, but the Cold War was still a recent subject in 1991, and social allegory had been a common theme in the original series. The closest the films had gotten with this theme had been The Voyage Home, which had ridden a wave of environmental concern to exceptional box office success. Given the recurring presence of Klingons in the films (which had probably done more than any original series appearance to popularize them), it probably wasn’t a huge leap to connect this final film’s story with them and the Cold War’s conclusion. Doing all this was probably enough to create a more successful movie. But for fans, probably the active participation of Nicholas Meyer helped put it over.
As I’ve said before, The Undiscovered Country feels like a continuation of the story begun in the trilogy, and is in a sense therefore a continuation of it (leaving the odd ducks Motion Picture and Final Frontier forever disconnected in still more ways from fan affection). To create a separate and continuing narrative was perhaps the most cinematic as well as successful thing the original crew films accomplished, and helped create the franchise just as much as the appearance of The Next Generation in 1987 and Deep Space Nine in 1993. Even if every episode of every series had been episodic, the creators couldn’t help but bleed a certain amount of continuity, which was far more inevitable because of the work the films did than the existence of the forebear TV show. In a sense, Star Trek, before Star Trek in 2009, had already rebooted itself.
The Undiscovered Country is probably the most fully realized, complete, and fulfilling of the original crew films. Where it lacks the surprise of Wrath of Khan, the scope of Search for Spock, or the fun of Voyage Home, it offers a mature product that hasn’t aged in twenty years, the first time a Star Trek experience could say that. It is as appropriate a final statement from both this crew and their movies as it can be. Fans had long known these characters were timeless. At last one of their adventures feel like it as well.
Some of the guest actors help make it that way. David Warner, as the doomed Klingon chancellor, has one of his signature roles in the franchise. Christopher Plummer is virtually rediscovered thanks to the film. Kim Cattrell, like Kirstie Alley, enters the popular consciousness thanks to Star Trek, only to find her big success with another project. All three performances add to the luster of the final project. Brock Peters returns as Admiral Cartwright, Kurtwood Smith appears as the Federation president, Christian Slater makes a cameo (okay, so if anything dates the movie, it would be the idea that this appearance would be relevant, because his star has fallen considerably since then). A popular supermodel (Iman) costars, even! We also get the first deliberate generational crossover, as Michael Dorn is shone briefly as his own ancestor, defending Kirk and Bones in Klingon court. (Scenes not shone in the original theatrical release also bring us Rene Auberjonois, a few years before he officially joins the family as Odo.)
As with virtually every other film in the series, the passage of time is clearly evoked. That would certainly be another unique element of the films, since it’s hardly routine for films, let alone a film series, to stick with a group of aging actors. Sean Connery was booed out of the Bond films forever when he definitely no longer looked like he did in the 1960s. George Takei finally gets his wish, something that was intended as far back as Wrath of Khan, when Sulu is finally shown as captain of his own ship, the Excelsior (I don’t know if anyone has ever properly made the connections here, but he made his intentions toward this ship pretty clear back in The Voyage Home, after everyone else had already made their continuing resentments from Search for Spock perfectly clear). This was only the beginning of a new Star Trek campaign that would insist a Captain Sulu TV series would work wonderfully, an argument that probably helped give us the Voyager episode “Flashback,” which is set during this film. (Maybe then we might have found out why Sulu liked that ship so much.) That Sulu’s command is a prominent element of the movie probably felt like a reward for Takei’s years of patience, and still stands apart as the only real career progress for any member of that crew.
“Flashback” isn’t even the only episode to evoke the film. A few years later, Enterprise revisited the Klingon penal colony (and court) in “Judgment.” After “Mirror, Mirror,” no single Star Trek adventure has left as much of a lasting impact as The Undiscovered Country. A lot of other films and episodes have served as lucrative launching pads, such as the introductions of Q and the Borg in Next Generation, but without even meaning to, the sixth film has managed to become an instant touchstone. It may be because it was the final original crew movie, and so automatically sticks out in franchise lore. Sulu never did get that series. No film or series ever really revisited Klingon culture in quite that way, expansive as some of them got. I would argue that, far from having exhausted itself, as many fans were arguing by 2005, Star Trek had only scratched the surface, by 1991, by 2001, and even by 2011, even though hundreds of episodes, eleven films, and countless books and comics have explored far and wide the emerging canon. The phenomenon of The Undiscovered Country is an example of that.
I don’t remember when exactly, or how, I first saw it, much like Wrath of Khan, but Undiscovered Country was pretty easy to love, as it has been, apparently, for most fans. Aside from the allegorical implications, it isn’t quite as ambitious as Khan or Voyage Home, the other unabashed successes of the first six films, so its success is more a testament to the fact that sometimes, it does pay to have a lot of history behind a Star Trek, sometimes being good at what you’ve already done is good enough. This was the last time fans allowed the creators to get away with this kind of attitude, or experience, so it’s nice to think of the film in that regard as well. Maybe it was simply that, for a change, Star Trek was merely content to tell a good story, that allowed everyone to get along so well. It wasn’t trying to do or be anything else. With nothing left to lose, the franchise in the hands of a new generation, The Undiscovered Country was like a cruise home.
I usually rank this one pretty near the top of my list when considering the film series as a whole. Even though I have a lot of glowing things to say about some of the others, and even an emerging appreciation for Wrath of Khan, which has suffered in my mind the way The Motion Picture and The Final Frontier have for others, The Undiscovered Country will probably remain that way, a consummate experience that constantly finds new ways to entertain me. You have to love a film that finally has someone ask Kirk what the heck the deal is between him and women. Or that features the hilarious first appearance of someone named “Dax.” Or finally flummoxes Scotty with the basic laws of physics.
I don’t know, go and watch it again yourself. One final piece of endorsement: The Undiscovered Country probably also has the most distinctive and interesting of all the movie titles, as well as the feel of what the original series used to do all the time with its episodes, a trend Deep Space Nine would later continue.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home
Star Trek is always at its best when it is deliberately crowd-pleasing, as evidenced by all the episodes in the original series that continue to be warmly remembered to this day: “The Naked Time,” “Shore Leave,” “The Trouble with Tribbles.” So it’s no surprise that the original cast met its greatest film success in the time travel romp The Voyage Home.
Released and set mostly in 1986, what is ostensibly the conclusion of a movie trilogy actually allows for many of the classic elements of the TV run to return in full prominence, from the social awareness of the plot to an adventure plot that allows viewers to enjoy themselves unabashedly as they come along for the ride. Star Trek had and would bury itself in heavy narratives thick with pathos and solemn proceedings, but this crowd-pleaser was content to swim with whales named after two Hollywood legends (no, not “Kirk and Spock”).
Another of the great ironies in the film series is that the basic plot of The Voyage Home is another rehash of The Motion Picture, just as Wrath of Khan had been in other ways: a deadly probe threatens all life on Earth, and only Kirk can stop it. This time, however, none of the drama is wrung from the characters, instead coming from their reactions as events unfold, allowing them to enjoy themselves for the first time on the big screen, completely without reservation.
Kirk has no personal stakes in this one, for a change. He does have to answer for the controversial decisions he’s been making, and is flying around in a Klingon ship, but he never seems troubled by any of it. He’s light-hearted enough to engage in a playful (read: platonic) relationship with contemporary marine biologist Gillian Taylor (Catherine Hicks, who would one day join Motion Picture alum Stephen Collins on TV with 7th Heaven), and shoot a bunch of witty banter with Spock (“did a little too much LDS”) around her. It’s the first time he’s truly been able to have fun in decades!
Spock, meanwhile, who has been suffering for one reason or another through his human/Vulcan dichotomy throughout each of the previous films, finally seems to find an appropriate balance, learning all about “colorful metaphors” (and inappropriately using them) and even mind-melding with lumpy, non-humanoid creature for the first time since “Devil in the Dark” for a little conversation that reveals new perspectives. He actually seems at home walking around in a ceremonial robe (and improvised headband) in San Francisco. He is not a fish out of water.
Scotty and Chekov make some lasting impressions during the movie as well, whether seeking transparent aluminum or “nuclear wessels,” which is hardly a surprise, given that the inner circle of three usually maintained in this crew regularly opened to admit these two. Sulu even gets to foreshadow the command George Takei had been anticipating since Wrath of Khan (even though the timing he got seemed completely reasonable to me, since the character hardly ever actually distinguished himself) when the Excelsior they sabotaged in Search for Spock is referenced as the crew’s possible replacement ship after they all get back home. I’m sure Uhura does something memorable as well, but I’m not really recalling it at this time.
None of this would matter a whole lot if there was a dramatic culture clash that made our characters the object of deliberate jokes rather than seamless visitors occasionally stumbling into jams. But none of it turns out to be things they can’t handle, whether an unruly bus passenger playing his boom box too loud (nothing a Vulcan Nerve Pinch can’t handle) or a trip to the hospital (which turns out to be a piece of cake). Even Gillian’s involvement and dawning awareness of the scope of this escapade progresses naturally, without a lot of needless fuss. Kirk’s charm can be thanked for that.
This was introduced to me as the big success of the films, and I became aware of it shortly after it was released. (Being six at the time of its release was still too soon to have been a natural first-hand impression.) Sometimes, having a positive opinion before an actual experience isn’t so bad (while conversely, I suspect a lot of Trek, as well as other things, has suffered from negative opinions floating around for no good reason). It allows you to sit back and enjoy what is unerringly an entertaining experience, following beat by beat the things you were already aware of (which is a little of how I first saw Star Trek: First Contact, having already heard a breathless account from a friend at school). In that sense, I don’t really put much stock in the idea of spoilers. You can read a novelization and still not anticipate the full impact of the same events brought vividly to life. There’s a certain thrill seeing a Bird of Prey flying about our familiar skies, whether scooping beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, or setting down in a park, even while cloaked.
(Just as an aside, Voyage Home did a lot of great work with cloaking technology, too.)
We get the debut of Admiral Cartwright (Brock Peters, who would later portray Sisko’s dad in Deep Space Nine), a comparatively minor and undeveloped character, but who would help serve as some of the backbone of the conspiracy in The Undiscovered Country, as well as the Klingon played by John Schuck, who helps to link the events of Search for Spock with the aforementioned sixth film, in which he also appears. We get the first appearance of a Federation president, another appearance from Sarek, even cameos from Saavik and Amanda, Spock’s mom, plus the debut of a new Enterprise.
Either as a fan or a general filmgoer, The Voyage Home is a pleasure, a welcome diversion from the kind of story just about every other Star Trek movie has explored, in mood and scope. It doesn’t hurt to have seen the two previous films (and serves as a definite reward if you do), but you can easily enjoy it on its own, and in that sense serves as another satisfyingly complete experience, though in a far different way than Search for Spock.
If you want to experience the best possible representation of the original series in film form, you can’t possibly top Voyage Home.
It’s not really hard to see how the success of this one prompted Paramount to finally launch a second TV series, about a decade after it gave up on the idea originally. What’s a little more difficult to understand, though certainly beneficial to Gene Roddenberry and his last chance to run a Star Trek, is that this new show shared nothing in common with this audience pleaser.
Now, just imagine…A Star Trek series that transports a crew from the future to our present, for the entire duration of the show. Talk about a concept…
Released and set mostly in 1986, what is ostensibly the conclusion of a movie trilogy actually allows for many of the classic elements of the TV run to return in full prominence, from the social awareness of the plot to an adventure plot that allows viewers to enjoy themselves unabashedly as they come along for the ride. Star Trek had and would bury itself in heavy narratives thick with pathos and solemn proceedings, but this crowd-pleaser was content to swim with whales named after two Hollywood legends (no, not “Kirk and Spock”).
Another of the great ironies in the film series is that the basic plot of The Voyage Home is another rehash of The Motion Picture, just as Wrath of Khan had been in other ways: a deadly probe threatens all life on Earth, and only Kirk can stop it. This time, however, none of the drama is wrung from the characters, instead coming from their reactions as events unfold, allowing them to enjoy themselves for the first time on the big screen, completely without reservation.
Kirk has no personal stakes in this one, for a change. He does have to answer for the controversial decisions he’s been making, and is flying around in a Klingon ship, but he never seems troubled by any of it. He’s light-hearted enough to engage in a playful (read: platonic) relationship with contemporary marine biologist Gillian Taylor (Catherine Hicks, who would one day join Motion Picture alum Stephen Collins on TV with 7th Heaven), and shoot a bunch of witty banter with Spock (“did a little too much LDS”) around her. It’s the first time he’s truly been able to have fun in decades!
Spock, meanwhile, who has been suffering for one reason or another through his human/Vulcan dichotomy throughout each of the previous films, finally seems to find an appropriate balance, learning all about “colorful metaphors” (and inappropriately using them) and even mind-melding with lumpy, non-humanoid creature for the first time since “Devil in the Dark” for a little conversation that reveals new perspectives. He actually seems at home walking around in a ceremonial robe (and improvised headband) in San Francisco. He is not a fish out of water.
Scotty and Chekov make some lasting impressions during the movie as well, whether seeking transparent aluminum or “nuclear wessels,” which is hardly a surprise, given that the inner circle of three usually maintained in this crew regularly opened to admit these two. Sulu even gets to foreshadow the command George Takei had been anticipating since Wrath of Khan (even though the timing he got seemed completely reasonable to me, since the character hardly ever actually distinguished himself) when the Excelsior they sabotaged in Search for Spock is referenced as the crew’s possible replacement ship after they all get back home. I’m sure Uhura does something memorable as well, but I’m not really recalling it at this time.
None of this would matter a whole lot if there was a dramatic culture clash that made our characters the object of deliberate jokes rather than seamless visitors occasionally stumbling into jams. But none of it turns out to be things they can’t handle, whether an unruly bus passenger playing his boom box too loud (nothing a Vulcan Nerve Pinch can’t handle) or a trip to the hospital (which turns out to be a piece of cake). Even Gillian’s involvement and dawning awareness of the scope of this escapade progresses naturally, without a lot of needless fuss. Kirk’s charm can be thanked for that.
This was introduced to me as the big success of the films, and I became aware of it shortly after it was released. (Being six at the time of its release was still too soon to have been a natural first-hand impression.) Sometimes, having a positive opinion before an actual experience isn’t so bad (while conversely, I suspect a lot of Trek, as well as other things, has suffered from negative opinions floating around for no good reason). It allows you to sit back and enjoy what is unerringly an entertaining experience, following beat by beat the things you were already aware of (which is a little of how I first saw Star Trek: First Contact, having already heard a breathless account from a friend at school). In that sense, I don’t really put much stock in the idea of spoilers. You can read a novelization and still not anticipate the full impact of the same events brought vividly to life. There’s a certain thrill seeing a Bird of Prey flying about our familiar skies, whether scooping beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, or setting down in a park, even while cloaked.
(Just as an aside, Voyage Home did a lot of great work with cloaking technology, too.)
We get the debut of Admiral Cartwright (Brock Peters, who would later portray Sisko’s dad in Deep Space Nine), a comparatively minor and undeveloped character, but who would help serve as some of the backbone of the conspiracy in The Undiscovered Country, as well as the Klingon played by John Schuck, who helps to link the events of Search for Spock with the aforementioned sixth film, in which he also appears. We get the first appearance of a Federation president, another appearance from Sarek, even cameos from Saavik and Amanda, Spock’s mom, plus the debut of a new Enterprise.
Either as a fan or a general filmgoer, The Voyage Home is a pleasure, a welcome diversion from the kind of story just about every other Star Trek movie has explored, in mood and scope. It doesn’t hurt to have seen the two previous films (and serves as a definite reward if you do), but you can easily enjoy it on its own, and in that sense serves as another satisfyingly complete experience, though in a far different way than Search for Spock.
If you want to experience the best possible representation of the original series in film form, you can’t possibly top Voyage Home.
It’s not really hard to see how the success of this one prompted Paramount to finally launch a second TV series, about a decade after it gave up on the idea originally. What’s a little more difficult to understand, though certainly beneficial to Gene Roddenberry and his last chance to run a Star Trek, is that this new show shared nothing in common with this audience pleaser.
Now, just imagine…A Star Trek series that transports a crew from the future to our present, for the entire duration of the show. Talk about a concept…
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
The movie in the entire film series that I think has always gotten the shaft, and for no discernable reason, other than coming between the ones fans (Wrath of Khan) and general audiences (The Voyage Home) really love, the middle part of the original crew trilogy that can be too easily dismissed as merely utilitarian. My argument is that it’s so much more than that. It may be, pound for pound, the most completely satisfying Star Trek movie.
Released in 1984, urged on by its predecessor and by that decade’s fascination in recreating the Star Wars experience in as many ways as possible (something that would doom many franchises by its end, including the Ghostbusters, Superman, and even Mad Max), The Search for Spock was perhaps the only movie the fans absolutely demanded, given that Spock had been killed off in the closing moments of Wrath of Khan, which had to reshape its ending to allow for a little more hope, which the new film had to then extrapolate and dramatize. It’s the only piece of franchise history that you absolutely can’t see on its own to fully appreciate (and then, maybe that’s a little of why its reputation suffers, because fans are at once fiercely protective of what they love, and yet strangely averse to be apologetic, lest their interest come off as weak), even though the key moments and plot points are presented again, to maintain at least the semblance of a closed loop.
And yet this creates a sense of urgency throughout the movie, a need to finish something the fans are now expecting, in as interesting a way as possible, and indeed, many obstacles are placed in front of Kirk, from a Starfleet completely unsympathetic to his need for redemption (because for him, the last film amounted to something of a tangible defeat), Klingons who seek to exploit the planet and its secrets that provide the hope Kirk needs, and the unexpected deterioration of that planet. You might even say that the Genesis device is better represented in this film than the other, reaching its full potential, both for good and otherwise, making Wrath of Khan more a prelude than superior product to Search for Spock. It’s almost less important that our famous Vulcan is dead than his unlikely new relationship to the device’s implications.
Indeed, Saavik (now played by Robin Curtis, looking and acting different than Kirstie Alley) is another example of this heightened atmosphere. Instead of supporting our established characters in activities that never really concern her, she takes the Chekov role from Wrath of Khan, amping it up, and is engaging in her own adventure, which is interrupted both by circumstances and the villain of the movie. She’s accompanied by David Marcus, who is similarly free to pursue his own interests, for the first time allowed to run his own experiments, unencumbered by family concerns (mostly).
But what truly sets the film apart, and is something that has probably be overlooked by most fans, is that this is the first time the new Klingons introduced in The Motion Picture take center stage. Without Search for Spock, The Undiscovered Country would be unlikely (and considerably less personably compelling), or the work four subsequent TV shows accomplished after it.
One of the most blatantly unfair charges against the movie revolves around the principal Klingon, Kruge, who has the distinction of being portrayed by Christopher Lloyd, who is still to this day known as a comedic actor. Viewers refused to accept him in a dramatic role, and critics were equally confused, because they expect genre properties to have built-in devices so that everyone knows the proceedings aren’t being taken too seriously (the only known exception to this rule is the extreme reverence everyone seemed to embrace Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy with). Lloyd should have been comic relief. And yet, he clearly wasn’t. He took the role quite seriously, and is still to this day probably the closest Star Trek has come to portraying, as a central figure of a story, an ordinary Klingon warrior, dedicated to duty, his pet, and the empire.
Perhaps tellingly, he makes for a more satisfying villain than Khan, too, at least for the filmmakers. After all, he does get to engage Kirk in the only hand-to-hand combat our hero actually gets to do (with a significant figure) in the Star Trek films before he finally dies in such a struggle, which had been so common in the original series, with whole episodes sometimes built around this tendency. For much of the film, Kruge is as removed from Kirk as Khan was, but in the end that fight can no longer be resisted, especially since the Klingon does what the genetic superman couldn’t bring himself to do despite all his bluster: he made it personal. Khan had two generations of Marcus to threaten, Kruge had one, and could have killed Spock, personally. You can imagine what was going on in the writing room when these scenes were conceived. I would argue that the filmmakers knew exactly what they were doing, even if fans would come to think of their efforts as just another confirmation of the emerging Odd Number Curse.
I would submit that the ending of Wrath of Khan is strengthened by its repetition in Search for Spock, that it takes on mythic proportions when reiterated between Kirk and Sarek (Mark Lenard, making his first appearance in the films, and another reasons why I love this one) and Kirk and Spock himself, not to mention the creepy (and at times amusing) revelation that McCoy got stuck with Spock’s soul, which makes an ironic and compelling connection between normally lightly antagonistic friends. In fact, one of my favorite scenes is when DeForest Kelley pulls off his best impression of Leonard Nimoy, in the shadows, the first time we see Bones in the movie. Kirk is already on edge, far more depressed than in the two previous films (which amounts to an escalation that few could have anticipated when they consider The Motion Picture even for the tenth time). In that sense, because maybe people really just want to see our hero happy and carefree for a change, it’s better to look elsewhere for a cherished movie memory.
But as a single experience, even with a lot of loose ends dangling, plots left over and picked up by later films and series, Search for Spock presents a heck of an experience, perhaps the most complete story and character arc for Kirk. It’s a full adventure, blows up a beloved ship, elicits really emotion from William Shatner, and closes the loop opened in the first film, bringing us back to Vulcan for another dramatic ceremony, except this one we’re more than happy to see to conclusion.
All of this isn’t to say it’s my favorite one. I think it lacks a lot of punch, that it does seem a little too inevitable in its beats (Curtis is such a departure from Alley that she seems to hardly exist at all, at least in the role of Saavik, and David becomes an afterthought, only to be killed off, with the audience expected to care for him based on the previous film alone). The rest of the familiar characters have a few things to do so they can get to the Genesis planet, but they’re all forgotten by the time they get there. There’s a lot to sacrifice so that this story as conceived can happen, much like Wrath of Khan, even though what we’re given works so well in its most important elements.
Perhaps the most successful piece of the film is the absence of Nimoy (except behind the camera, where he proves a deft hand as director) until absolutely needed, a move calculated for maximum impact. Just as Kirk is beginning to wonder if he’s sacrificed everything just to lose it all, Spock finally offers a glimmer of recognition. His friend is back.
But Search for Spock is an exercise in proving that an old friend was never really gone. In many ways, this was the true beginning of a whole new era.
Released in 1984, urged on by its predecessor and by that decade’s fascination in recreating the Star Wars experience in as many ways as possible (something that would doom many franchises by its end, including the Ghostbusters, Superman, and even Mad Max), The Search for Spock was perhaps the only movie the fans absolutely demanded, given that Spock had been killed off in the closing moments of Wrath of Khan, which had to reshape its ending to allow for a little more hope, which the new film had to then extrapolate and dramatize. It’s the only piece of franchise history that you absolutely can’t see on its own to fully appreciate (and then, maybe that’s a little of why its reputation suffers, because fans are at once fiercely protective of what they love, and yet strangely averse to be apologetic, lest their interest come off as weak), even though the key moments and plot points are presented again, to maintain at least the semblance of a closed loop.
And yet this creates a sense of urgency throughout the movie, a need to finish something the fans are now expecting, in as interesting a way as possible, and indeed, many obstacles are placed in front of Kirk, from a Starfleet completely unsympathetic to his need for redemption (because for him, the last film amounted to something of a tangible defeat), Klingons who seek to exploit the planet and its secrets that provide the hope Kirk needs, and the unexpected deterioration of that planet. You might even say that the Genesis device is better represented in this film than the other, reaching its full potential, both for good and otherwise, making Wrath of Khan more a prelude than superior product to Search for Spock. It’s almost less important that our famous Vulcan is dead than his unlikely new relationship to the device’s implications.
Indeed, Saavik (now played by Robin Curtis, looking and acting different than Kirstie Alley) is another example of this heightened atmosphere. Instead of supporting our established characters in activities that never really concern her, she takes the Chekov role from Wrath of Khan, amping it up, and is engaging in her own adventure, which is interrupted both by circumstances and the villain of the movie. She’s accompanied by David Marcus, who is similarly free to pursue his own interests, for the first time allowed to run his own experiments, unencumbered by family concerns (mostly).
But what truly sets the film apart, and is something that has probably be overlooked by most fans, is that this is the first time the new Klingons introduced in The Motion Picture take center stage. Without Search for Spock, The Undiscovered Country would be unlikely (and considerably less personably compelling), or the work four subsequent TV shows accomplished after it.
One of the most blatantly unfair charges against the movie revolves around the principal Klingon, Kruge, who has the distinction of being portrayed by Christopher Lloyd, who is still to this day known as a comedic actor. Viewers refused to accept him in a dramatic role, and critics were equally confused, because they expect genre properties to have built-in devices so that everyone knows the proceedings aren’t being taken too seriously (the only known exception to this rule is the extreme reverence everyone seemed to embrace Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy with). Lloyd should have been comic relief. And yet, he clearly wasn’t. He took the role quite seriously, and is still to this day probably the closest Star Trek has come to portraying, as a central figure of a story, an ordinary Klingon warrior, dedicated to duty, his pet, and the empire.
Perhaps tellingly, he makes for a more satisfying villain than Khan, too, at least for the filmmakers. After all, he does get to engage Kirk in the only hand-to-hand combat our hero actually gets to do (with a significant figure) in the Star Trek films before he finally dies in such a struggle, which had been so common in the original series, with whole episodes sometimes built around this tendency. For much of the film, Kruge is as removed from Kirk as Khan was, but in the end that fight can no longer be resisted, especially since the Klingon does what the genetic superman couldn’t bring himself to do despite all his bluster: he made it personal. Khan had two generations of Marcus to threaten, Kruge had one, and could have killed Spock, personally. You can imagine what was going on in the writing room when these scenes were conceived. I would argue that the filmmakers knew exactly what they were doing, even if fans would come to think of their efforts as just another confirmation of the emerging Odd Number Curse.
I would submit that the ending of Wrath of Khan is strengthened by its repetition in Search for Spock, that it takes on mythic proportions when reiterated between Kirk and Sarek (Mark Lenard, making his first appearance in the films, and another reasons why I love this one) and Kirk and Spock himself, not to mention the creepy (and at times amusing) revelation that McCoy got stuck with Spock’s soul, which makes an ironic and compelling connection between normally lightly antagonistic friends. In fact, one of my favorite scenes is when DeForest Kelley pulls off his best impression of Leonard Nimoy, in the shadows, the first time we see Bones in the movie. Kirk is already on edge, far more depressed than in the two previous films (which amounts to an escalation that few could have anticipated when they consider The Motion Picture even for the tenth time). In that sense, because maybe people really just want to see our hero happy and carefree for a change, it’s better to look elsewhere for a cherished movie memory.
But as a single experience, even with a lot of loose ends dangling, plots left over and picked up by later films and series, Search for Spock presents a heck of an experience, perhaps the most complete story and character arc for Kirk. It’s a full adventure, blows up a beloved ship, elicits really emotion from William Shatner, and closes the loop opened in the first film, bringing us back to Vulcan for another dramatic ceremony, except this one we’re more than happy to see to conclusion.
All of this isn’t to say it’s my favorite one. I think it lacks a lot of punch, that it does seem a little too inevitable in its beats (Curtis is such a departure from Alley that she seems to hardly exist at all, at least in the role of Saavik, and David becomes an afterthought, only to be killed off, with the audience expected to care for him based on the previous film alone). The rest of the familiar characters have a few things to do so they can get to the Genesis planet, but they’re all forgotten by the time they get there. There’s a lot to sacrifice so that this story as conceived can happen, much like Wrath of Khan, even though what we’re given works so well in its most important elements.
Perhaps the most successful piece of the film is the absence of Nimoy (except behind the camera, where he proves a deft hand as director) until absolutely needed, a move calculated for maximum impact. Just as Kirk is beginning to wonder if he’s sacrificed everything just to lose it all, Spock finally offers a glimmer of recognition. His friend is back.
But Search for Spock is an exercise in proving that an old friend was never really gone. In many ways, this was the true beginning of a whole new era.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Star Trek: The Motion Picture
Contrary to popular belief, Star Trek did not enter the movie business simply because of the success of Star Wars in 1977 (with apocryphal accounts suggesting Paramount more or less remarking, “What’ve we got like that?”). Gene Roddenberry, the fans, and even the studio that had seen the original series apparently run its course after three seasons in 1969 were looking for ways to revive it throughout the 1970s, including the relatively obscure but still famous Phase II attempt to launch a new TV series, which led directly to what audiences finally saw at the end of 1979.
It might have come as a little bit of a surprise to insiders who knew how much Gene had been getting marginalized in the final year of his own show that he was once again the driving force of Star Trek in this new incarnation, though a number of collaborators, as he himself had always welcomed, had been suggesting and inspiring new twists in the fallow years. The story for The Motion Picture came from what had been intended to be the two-hour pilot of Phase Two (which itself, its possibilities, does fit the mold of that popular belief already stated). You can’t imagine the lengths some had gone to in developing concepts large enough to push Star Trek back into production, and how none of them was considered to fit the bill, even though to this day, many fans would no doubt be more interested in those than what they ultimately got. What becomes ironic about The Motion Picture is that Gene apparently got exactly what he wanted, but in a manner that few of the fans could understand even then.
Where the original series had been characterized by an almost Errol Flynn-like spirit, embodied by William Shatner’s Captain Kirk, this new movie represented everything as if captured from the perspective of Leonard Nimoy’s Spock, which was itself ironic, because Nimoy was the lone holdout from the Phase II reunion, having felt, in some way, betrayed by the lack of recognition for the popularity of the Vulcan he had made iconic. There was also some sense that The Motion Picture felt less like Star Wars than 2001: A Space Odyssey, a sprawling, cerebral narrative that felt cold and uninviting. Then again, for others, it sometimes seemed to be a little too reverent to what had been done before, too distant to truly enjoy what it was accomplishing.
But for Gene, it was a definite sign of what he had wanted to do, which if rebuffed by Wrath of Khan, would be vindicated with The Next Generation, when he finally got his second television series, featuring many of the same templates for the characters he’d hoped to add to the canon. Will Decker (Stephen Collins) became Will Riker, Ilia (Persis Khambatta) became Deanna Troi, and Xon became Data. Of the three, only the new Vulcan was truly sacrificed, though the actor who had been hired to portray him, David Gautreaux, did have a bit part in The Motion Picture (personally, I think it would have been nice to eventually give him a significant part, once the franchise blossomed into lasting success, as an acknowledgment for his part in its history). (It is also worth noting that the distinctive Jerry Goldsmith fanfare developed for the film became the theme for The Next Generation, and another clear connection between the two projects.)
Far from the embarrassment many have taken to considering it over the years, I’ve long been fascinated by The Motion Picture. I confess to never having seen 2001 perhaps the biggest gap in my cinema experience), so I have no idea if, having seen that, its Star Trek equivalent does seem a little redundant in comparison. But as a storytelling style, The Motion Picture is still to this day entirely unique, what I term a stark and emotionally compelling adventure.
The passage of time, more than anything, is what’s really on display here, what might be lost from one moment to the next, when one refuses to accept what has also been gained. Kirk is no longer captain of the Enterprise. He isn’t even the most powerful figure in his own world anymore, which was what the impression of the series had always been. Even if he manages to convince an implacable admiral to have things his way, he still has to answer to someone. A once-proudly independent individual now has others invading his ability to do as he pleases. Could you imagine Kirk clearing his every gambit by Starfleet Command in the original series? Here he constantly meddles with the command of his supposed successor, Will Decker, until finally there’s no choice left but to let him have his way, but even then, it’s no longer his choice, but the imposing presence of the thing called V’Ger.
Spock, too, is separated from the Vulcan fans had grow to love. He has undergone cultural ceremonies meant to finally purge himself of the pesky human behaviors he had long criticized, as if he has willfully moved on from the old days (almost a metaphorical representation of Nimoy’s maneuvering). Only McCoy (DeForest Kelley), of the central characters, seems to have remained much the same, a cranky officer in the best of times, but like the others, strangely incapable of favorably serving in his custom role as trusted consultant.
Decker and Ilia inhabit their own level of the story, keeping mostly to themselves, which serves the movie and the franchise just fine when it leads to their effective elimination from further adventures. Scotty (James Doohan) serves as the most visible of the remaining familiar cast, as he had in the original series, and is the first of them to develop a new look, adding what would become a signature mustache.
Speaking of looks, the uniforms and even the ship receive a considerable overhaul (not to mention the debut of the new Klingon forehead), something else that was no doubt completely unexpected by fans who had been waiting a decade to see Star Trek again. The uniforms in particular, the first change in the new muted art direction for something that had resembled in so many ways the vibrant attitudes of the 1960s, were quickly rejected and replaced, never to be seen again. Is it much of a surprise for me to say that I liked them? Like the rest of the film, they fit the grim grandeur, the sense of responsibility, which perhaps more than anything else was what might have been going through the mind of James Kirk in the midst of this journey. It was a sobering reflection on the days that were gone and would never be seen again. The only way to truly recapture it, in the end, was to completely reinvent the wheel. And that didn’t happen until 2009, exactly two decades later.
That much of the film is a visual experience is almost a implicit acknowledgment that, if the characters themselves had changed, Star Trek hadn’t. For once, something proved to be far bigger than any of them had seen before, or could truly grasp, and in that sense, it’s exactly what a Star Trek film should have been in 1979. It forced each of them to take stock of their lives, and determine whether their choices had been as beneficial as they once believed. It might be worth noting that Kirk didn’t regularly command a starship again until The Final Frontier, ten years later, everything preceding that an indirect continuation of his search for a new purpose.
I continually challenge others to take another look at The Motion Picture, but among the most fundamental opinions within franchise lore, chief among them is that it’s a boring failure, even though its existence did, happily, resurrect Star Trek. It was also the beginning of a film series that continues to this day, one of the most enduring ever in cinema history. For that much, it’s not hard to take pride in it.
It might have come as a little bit of a surprise to insiders who knew how much Gene had been getting marginalized in the final year of his own show that he was once again the driving force of Star Trek in this new incarnation, though a number of collaborators, as he himself had always welcomed, had been suggesting and inspiring new twists in the fallow years. The story for The Motion Picture came from what had been intended to be the two-hour pilot of Phase Two (which itself, its possibilities, does fit the mold of that popular belief already stated). You can’t imagine the lengths some had gone to in developing concepts large enough to push Star Trek back into production, and how none of them was considered to fit the bill, even though to this day, many fans would no doubt be more interested in those than what they ultimately got. What becomes ironic about The Motion Picture is that Gene apparently got exactly what he wanted, but in a manner that few of the fans could understand even then.
Where the original series had been characterized by an almost Errol Flynn-like spirit, embodied by William Shatner’s Captain Kirk, this new movie represented everything as if captured from the perspective of Leonard Nimoy’s Spock, which was itself ironic, because Nimoy was the lone holdout from the Phase II reunion, having felt, in some way, betrayed by the lack of recognition for the popularity of the Vulcan he had made iconic. There was also some sense that The Motion Picture felt less like Star Wars than 2001: A Space Odyssey, a sprawling, cerebral narrative that felt cold and uninviting. Then again, for others, it sometimes seemed to be a little too reverent to what had been done before, too distant to truly enjoy what it was accomplishing.
But for Gene, it was a definite sign of what he had wanted to do, which if rebuffed by Wrath of Khan, would be vindicated with The Next Generation, when he finally got his second television series, featuring many of the same templates for the characters he’d hoped to add to the canon. Will Decker (Stephen Collins) became Will Riker, Ilia (Persis Khambatta) became Deanna Troi, and Xon became Data. Of the three, only the new Vulcan was truly sacrificed, though the actor who had been hired to portray him, David Gautreaux, did have a bit part in The Motion Picture (personally, I think it would have been nice to eventually give him a significant part, once the franchise blossomed into lasting success, as an acknowledgment for his part in its history). (It is also worth noting that the distinctive Jerry Goldsmith fanfare developed for the film became the theme for The Next Generation, and another clear connection between the two projects.)
Far from the embarrassment many have taken to considering it over the years, I’ve long been fascinated by The Motion Picture. I confess to never having seen 2001 perhaps the biggest gap in my cinema experience), so I have no idea if, having seen that, its Star Trek equivalent does seem a little redundant in comparison. But as a storytelling style, The Motion Picture is still to this day entirely unique, what I term a stark and emotionally compelling adventure.
The passage of time, more than anything, is what’s really on display here, what might be lost from one moment to the next, when one refuses to accept what has also been gained. Kirk is no longer captain of the Enterprise. He isn’t even the most powerful figure in his own world anymore, which was what the impression of the series had always been. Even if he manages to convince an implacable admiral to have things his way, he still has to answer to someone. A once-proudly independent individual now has others invading his ability to do as he pleases. Could you imagine Kirk clearing his every gambit by Starfleet Command in the original series? Here he constantly meddles with the command of his supposed successor, Will Decker, until finally there’s no choice left but to let him have his way, but even then, it’s no longer his choice, but the imposing presence of the thing called V’Ger.
Spock, too, is separated from the Vulcan fans had grow to love. He has undergone cultural ceremonies meant to finally purge himself of the pesky human behaviors he had long criticized, as if he has willfully moved on from the old days (almost a metaphorical representation of Nimoy’s maneuvering). Only McCoy (DeForest Kelley), of the central characters, seems to have remained much the same, a cranky officer in the best of times, but like the others, strangely incapable of favorably serving in his custom role as trusted consultant.
Decker and Ilia inhabit their own level of the story, keeping mostly to themselves, which serves the movie and the franchise just fine when it leads to their effective elimination from further adventures. Scotty (James Doohan) serves as the most visible of the remaining familiar cast, as he had in the original series, and is the first of them to develop a new look, adding what would become a signature mustache.
Speaking of looks, the uniforms and even the ship receive a considerable overhaul (not to mention the debut of the new Klingon forehead), something else that was no doubt completely unexpected by fans who had been waiting a decade to see Star Trek again. The uniforms in particular, the first change in the new muted art direction for something that had resembled in so many ways the vibrant attitudes of the 1960s, were quickly rejected and replaced, never to be seen again. Is it much of a surprise for me to say that I liked them? Like the rest of the film, they fit the grim grandeur, the sense of responsibility, which perhaps more than anything else was what might have been going through the mind of James Kirk in the midst of this journey. It was a sobering reflection on the days that were gone and would never be seen again. The only way to truly recapture it, in the end, was to completely reinvent the wheel. And that didn’t happen until 2009, exactly two decades later.
That much of the film is a visual experience is almost a implicit acknowledgment that, if the characters themselves had changed, Star Trek hadn’t. For once, something proved to be far bigger than any of them had seen before, or could truly grasp, and in that sense, it’s exactly what a Star Trek film should have been in 1979. It forced each of them to take stock of their lives, and determine whether their choices had been as beneficial as they once believed. It might be worth noting that Kirk didn’t regularly command a starship again until The Final Frontier, ten years later, everything preceding that an indirect continuation of his search for a new purpose.
I continually challenge others to take another look at The Motion Picture, but among the most fundamental opinions within franchise lore, chief among them is that it’s a boring failure, even though its existence did, happily, resurrect Star Trek. It was also the beginning of a film series that continues to this day, one of the most enduring ever in cinema history. For that much, it’s not hard to take pride in it.
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