I've always been interested in box office results. Recently I've begun taking a closer look at different sets of figures: the international box office and the adjusted-for-inflation box office, which is something I previously didn't care too much about but now view as a window into comparative popularity. This is going to be a look at how Star Trek movies look from these vantage points. All figures come from Box Office Mojo, retrieved on 6/5/18. (B = billion, M = million)
The first list is the US box office report:
1. Star Trek (2009) $257M
The first of the Abrams reboot series; this will be the most successful movie in two of the three lists.
2. Star Trek Into Darkness (2013) $228M
The second in the Abrams reboot series will take the top slot in one of the two remaining lists.
3. Star Trek Beyond (2016) $158M
This will be the third Abrams reboot series entry's best showing.
4. Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986) $109M
The obvious favorite among general audiences, it's never been as popular among fans. We might see why in another list.
5. Star Trek: First Contact (1996) $92M
The second Picard flick and by far the most successful.
6. Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) $82M
This total is going to have long legs. You'll see why its exposure caused problems.
7. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982) $78M
Its inordinate popularity with fans always seems to indicate it was more successful than the first one. It wasn't.
8. Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984) $76M
Yet fans are never as excited about its sequel, even though it was about as successful.
9. Star Trek Generations (1994) $75M
This meeting of Kirk and Picard was a huge disappointment in a lot of ways.
10. Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991) $74M
The final full cast appearance of the original Kirk crew made up a lot of ground from its predecessor, but not quite enough.
11. Star Trek: Insurrection (1998) $70M
Surprisingly, despite its reputation the third Picard entry was about par for the course.
12. Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) $52M
The first real flop of the franchise.
13. Star Trek Nemesis (2002) $43M
The second and far more disastrous was also Picard's fourth and last appearance.
Okay!
Now onto adjusted for inflation, in which we see some interesting things develop:
1. Star Trek (2009) $316M
Still the most popular! This is officially Star Trek as a whole at its most popular.
2. The Motion Picture (1979) $300M
Here's the biggest surprise! Maybe it shouldn't be, being the oldest entry in the series, and therefore the greatest beneficiary of inflation. But here we see that the first and subsequently much-maligned movie in the franchise was also its most successful for years. Thirty years, to be exact!
3. The Voyage Home (1986) $264M
And here we see just how popular this one really was!
4. Into Darkness (2013) $250M
And here's where we see where all the fan outrage about Khan's second movie appearance comes from; it officially made more money, and thus had more exposure.
5. The Wrath of Khan (1982) $245M
Just a little more, but that's a little too much competition for some.
6. The Search for Spock (1984) $208M
When you look at the unadjusted box office, it looks like the follow-up follows more closely than in the adjusted box office.
7. First Contact (1996) $189M
In the unadjusted box office this looks like a much more impressive hit.
8. Beyond (2016) $170M
You can see how far this one fell in comparison. That's why it was so little talked about compared to its two predecessors.
9. Generations (1994) $165M
But it still did better than this one.
10. The Undiscovered Country (1991) $163M
Fans were so relieved to like a Star Trek movie again, they didn't really give this one its due.
11. Insurrection (1998) $134M
It doesn't look like par for the course in the adjusted box office.
12. The Final Frontier (1989) $120M
Although Final Frontier doesn't look as bad in comparison from this vantage point.
13. Nemesis (2002) $67M
Hard to make this one look good.
Okay!
Box Office Mojo doesn't have a full chart for international results (totals in parentheses include unadjusted results). Here's what's available:
1. Into Darkness (2013) $238M ($467M total)
Here's where Wrath of Khan fans really have kittens. It's technically the most successful Khan movie.
2. Beyond (2016) $184M ($343M total)
Surprisingly, this ranks above the first Abrams on this list.
3. Star Trek (2009) $128M ($385M total)
Still near the top, naturally.
4. First Contact (1996) $54M ($146M total)
Unsurprisingly charting high here.
5. Generations (1994) $42M ($118M total)
Here's where Generations most looks like a winner.
6. Insurrection (1998) $42M ($112M total)
And here's where you can see Picard made Star Trek more popular internationally than Kirk.
7. Nemesis (2002) $24M ($67M)
Even the least successful one was more successful than the most successful original Kirk film on the list.
8. The Undiscovered Country (1991) $22M ($96M total)
Which was the last one. So internationally, Generations really was, comparatively, a huge hit, and original Kirk's biggest exposure, at least as far as Box Office Mojo knows.
And now you know!
The internet’s only comprehensive fan source for the complete film and television experience.
Showing posts with label Star Trek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Star Trek. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 5, 2018
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
Every episode and every movie in the Star Trek franchise now has a review!
A journey that began in 2010 has now been completed. I have now written a review for the Star Trek Fan Companion of every episode and every movie, from all seven series and across all thirteen movies, 1966 to 2018, from the first season of the original series to the first season of Discovery. There have been plenty of starts and stops along the way, but started a few years back I started making a concerted effort to get it done, and incredibly, something that seemed a long way off just a few years ago is finished. Wow! This whole project has always been driven by the belief that fans new and old alike deserve to be able to explore the franchise from a different viewpoint than the increasingly cynical one that developed during the late 1990s, that saw it more likely to reject new material than attempt to embrace it. It's possible in my reviews to find a positive take on every series, something few fans are willing to admit. You can trace their legacies as they develop, and find a new vision of the classics, and a new conception of the worst episodes, and even new takes on what the worst episodes have traditionally been considered.
Along the way I refined a couple of times how reviews were written. At some point I thought it would be fun to apply tags for notable guest-stars, and that required some revision of older reviews, but hopefully the results speak for themselves. There are a number of ways to work through the reviews, including those guest-star tags, as well as star ratings and even by the peculiar set of criteria I chose to use in coming up with the star ratings. I labeled the criteria "franchise," "series," "character," and "essential." Each of them was a way of calculating whether an episode had any intrinsic worth. The full impact of an episode was either aided or hindered by whether or not they were worth viewing on any of these scores. If they managed none of them, they got no stars at all, and so that was how I determined for myself the all-time worst episodes.
Of course, this is all subjective, but I hope it's a good starting point on an immersive journey of discovery throughout franchise lore.
Along the way I refined a couple of times how reviews were written. At some point I thought it would be fun to apply tags for notable guest-stars, and that required some revision of older reviews, but hopefully the results speak for themselves. There are a number of ways to work through the reviews, including those guest-star tags, as well as star ratings and even by the peculiar set of criteria I chose to use in coming up with the star ratings. I labeled the criteria "franchise," "series," "character," and "essential." Each of them was a way of calculating whether an episode had any intrinsic worth. The full impact of an episode was either aided or hindered by whether or not they were worth viewing on any of these scores. If they managed none of them, they got no stars at all, and so that was how I determined for myself the all-time worst episodes.
Of course, this is all subjective, but I hope it's a good starting point on an immersive journey of discovery throughout franchise lore.
Saturday, November 12, 2016
Star Trek vs. Star Wars (2016)
One of the biggest geek debates of the last forty years has been which one is better, Star Trek or Star Wars. Star Trek came into existence a full decade before Star Wars, but they remain inextricably linked, thanks to the fact that they corner the same market: large-scale sci-fi storytelling. Now, a few years ago J.J. Abrams seemed to blur the lines between the two when he not only directed the first two reboot Star Trek movies, but the seventh Star Wars entry, too. Fans cried foul that he made Star Trek too much like Star Wars in his efforts, too action-oriented.
But I never bought it, because there is an essential difference between them that can't be ignored no matter how the story is told: Star Trek inherently believes in the establishment, and Star Wars doubts it. There you have it, plain and simple.
So let me explain. Star Trek is embodied by the hopeful vision of a United Federation of Planets, Star Wars by a rebellion against tyranny, which usually takes the shape of a galactic organization much like the Federation. The Federation is usually represented by Starfleet, another mass-cooperation entity, while the rebellion is usually a loose collection of loners, sometimes represented by either the Jedi as a whole or a single practitioner. Starfleet's ships are typically headed by strong leaders, but they always come with the full support of their crews. The Jedi and their allies often clash on basic ideologies.
Now, these are generalizations, but you get the point. This year will have seen two movies released that drive home these points. Star Trek Beyond is all about Kirk's fight against a founding officer of Starfleet who ends up being driven mad by the ideals he's forced to live with. If this were Star Wars, Krall would be the good guy. That's just a fact. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story presents the origin of the crack team that helped bring about the destruction of the original Death Star, and everything you need to know about the team is in that title and in fact the first word, rogue.
The struggle between Star Trek and Star Wars has also been exemplified by the 2016 presidential election, and what it once again helps illustrate: the persistent existence of two distinct segments of the population, one that believes in the system, and the other that constantly opposes it. Actually, which is which tends to fluctuate, so don't bother trying to identify them, because it really doesn't matter. Maybe it's a testament to what I've always said about myself as a voter, that I'm an independent, because I like Star Trek and Star Wars. I sometimes wonder why this great divide exists, but I know that it does, and that's really enough.
I think that's what makes them both popular, too, that they both exemplify the basic characters of the United States so well. I mean, everyone knows Star Trek's origins were deeply immersed in the social turmoil of the '60s, but few stop to consider how ingrained Star Wars is in the culture, too, not just the concept but the idea of it, of the need to rebel, that has always existed in American life. I tried for years to pin down what the analogy behind it was, what George Lucas was reflecting on, but maybe there really isn't any one historic struggle he was thinking of, but all of them.
It's certainly something to keep in mind. Because there are always at least two ways to view things, and geek culture has been embracing them all along...
But I never bought it, because there is an essential difference between them that can't be ignored no matter how the story is told: Star Trek inherently believes in the establishment, and Star Wars doubts it. There you have it, plain and simple.
So let me explain. Star Trek is embodied by the hopeful vision of a United Federation of Planets, Star Wars by a rebellion against tyranny, which usually takes the shape of a galactic organization much like the Federation. The Federation is usually represented by Starfleet, another mass-cooperation entity, while the rebellion is usually a loose collection of loners, sometimes represented by either the Jedi as a whole or a single practitioner. Starfleet's ships are typically headed by strong leaders, but they always come with the full support of their crews. The Jedi and their allies often clash on basic ideologies.
Now, these are generalizations, but you get the point. This year will have seen two movies released that drive home these points. Star Trek Beyond is all about Kirk's fight against a founding officer of Starfleet who ends up being driven mad by the ideals he's forced to live with. If this were Star Wars, Krall would be the good guy. That's just a fact. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story presents the origin of the crack team that helped bring about the destruction of the original Death Star, and everything you need to know about the team is in that title and in fact the first word, rogue.
The struggle between Star Trek and Star Wars has also been exemplified by the 2016 presidential election, and what it once again helps illustrate: the persistent existence of two distinct segments of the population, one that believes in the system, and the other that constantly opposes it. Actually, which is which tends to fluctuate, so don't bother trying to identify them, because it really doesn't matter. Maybe it's a testament to what I've always said about myself as a voter, that I'm an independent, because I like Star Trek and Star Wars. I sometimes wonder why this great divide exists, but I know that it does, and that's really enough.
I think that's what makes them both popular, too, that they both exemplify the basic characters of the United States so well. I mean, everyone knows Star Trek's origins were deeply immersed in the social turmoil of the '60s, but few stop to consider how ingrained Star Wars is in the culture, too, not just the concept but the idea of it, of the need to rebel, that has always existed in American life. I tried for years to pin down what the analogy behind it was, what George Lucas was reflecting on, but maybe there really isn't any one historic struggle he was thinking of, but all of them.
It's certainly something to keep in mind. Because there are always at least two ways to view things, and geek culture has been embracing them all along...
Thursday, September 8, 2016
Star Trek's 50th Birthday!
Fifty years ago today, NBC aired "The Man Trap," the first broadcast episode of Star Trek. The rest is history, right?
In sum: The series struggles to remain in production, limping to three seasons before finally being cancelled. Then the fans truly emerge, and it just keeps coming back, in one form or another. It makes history any number of ways: the mixed ethnicity of the crew, the interracial kiss, the technology, Vulcan culture.
Everyone has a reason for why this happened, and why it endures to this day. The more high-minded commentators point out that it was a perfect embodiment of all the best '60s ideals. Today, Star Trek's legacy can perhaps best be summed up as: Star Wars' main competition.
Now, this is somewhat more interesting to me, as I am a fan of both franchises (it can happen!), and this has been the most relevant dialogue of the past forty years, ever since Star Wars helped revive Star Trek once and for all.
I think Star Wars invented a whole new class of Star Trek fans, actually. Fans today moan about how JJ Abrams, who later directed Star Wars - Episode VII: The Force Awakens, turned Star Trek into Star Wars with his 2009 revisions, but this is something they've secretly wanted since they emphatically made the Star Wars-chasing Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan into the franchise standard-bearer, so it's hard to explain.
Remember how I noted everyone has their own reasons why Star Trek has persisted for fifty years? Well, the fans who think Wrath of Khan, which often seems to be all of them, is worthy of such consideration seem to think it's because of Star Wars. Yet Star Trek existed a full decade before anyone had seen Star Wars, and its wild and woolly legacy was already well underway by the time George Lucas started hammering out the specifics of his grand space saga.
What makes Star Trek special is that it can embrace the Star Wars conceit, along with everything else. I mean, Kirk was always a kind of Han Solo anyway, right? What was Spock but a Jedi Starfleet officer? There's a reason why he became so philosophic in the movies, because the filmmakers were suddenly concerned with how well he compared to the wise little Yoda. They never had to worry. Kirk and Spock are still Kirk and Spock, and people still have an easy time telling these franchises apart. Star Trek Beyond was not the massive hit The Force Awakens was, because again, it embraced the complete wild and woolly legacy of its franchise. It doesn't take three movies to tell a Star Trek story (unless Spock dies).
Star Trek was born for the Internet Age. In some ways, it created the Internet Age. Everything's up for debate, and things are either loved or loathed. There's rarely any middle ground. That's how fans have talked about Star Trek all along. That's what put it in the position to be cancelled, all those years ago, because it was so polarizing, like the decade that spawned it. But today, nobody thinks of Star Trek as a product of the '60s. It's somehow transcended its own origins, even while fans continue to pour over the original series as if it were biblical truth (if that's your thing, and it certainly wasn't Gene Roddenberry's!), and only a heathen admits Star Trek might actually have...improved in later iterations.
The Next Generation, at its prime, did become the standard-bearer, but was quickly relegated to the same woes of its successors, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise, as having to defend its legacy tooth and nail, its movies easy to dismiss, an era when Star Trek fell out of favor, not just among viewers but fans. There came a time when the franchise looked all but dead, with no one much interested in reviving it.
Today, you have absurd debates about Star Trek Into Darkness being the worst of all possible Treks, because it dared echo Wrath of Khan, and you wonder, what's it all about? Is it about rancor, about putting up little fences and finding enemies everywhere? Not the Star Trek I know. Apart from everything else, it's a message of hope, that we can overlook petty differences, finally, that we can find common ground. Like Star Trek. I can sometimes seem as if I want everyone to like everything. That's never been the case. I don't like everything. But it's always been odd, seeing how much passion Star Trek fans put into hating various pieces of the franchise. There's a million ways to love the franchise, to celebrate it, to boast about it. If Star Trek really did create the Internet Age, I think fifty years ago, something very different would have aired.
If there's something that hateful in "The Man Trap," and other episodes, I never saw it. Today, I remember, I choose to remember, the best of it, because that seems to be the standard Star Trek tried to set, all those years ago. If it's remembered in another fifty years, I think fans will have finally figured that out. Hopefully. The future's funny like that. Constantly going where no one has gone before...
Best Episodes:
In sum: The series struggles to remain in production, limping to three seasons before finally being cancelled. Then the fans truly emerge, and it just keeps coming back, in one form or another. It makes history any number of ways: the mixed ethnicity of the crew, the interracial kiss, the technology, Vulcan culture.
Everyone has a reason for why this happened, and why it endures to this day. The more high-minded commentators point out that it was a perfect embodiment of all the best '60s ideals. Today, Star Trek's legacy can perhaps best be summed up as: Star Wars' main competition.
Now, this is somewhat more interesting to me, as I am a fan of both franchises (it can happen!), and this has been the most relevant dialogue of the past forty years, ever since Star Wars helped revive Star Trek once and for all.
I think Star Wars invented a whole new class of Star Trek fans, actually. Fans today moan about how JJ Abrams, who later directed Star Wars - Episode VII: The Force Awakens, turned Star Trek into Star Wars with his 2009 revisions, but this is something they've secretly wanted since they emphatically made the Star Wars-chasing Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan into the franchise standard-bearer, so it's hard to explain.
Remember how I noted everyone has their own reasons why Star Trek has persisted for fifty years? Well, the fans who think Wrath of Khan, which often seems to be all of them, is worthy of such consideration seem to think it's because of Star Wars. Yet Star Trek existed a full decade before anyone had seen Star Wars, and its wild and woolly legacy was already well underway by the time George Lucas started hammering out the specifics of his grand space saga.
What makes Star Trek special is that it can embrace the Star Wars conceit, along with everything else. I mean, Kirk was always a kind of Han Solo anyway, right? What was Spock but a Jedi Starfleet officer? There's a reason why he became so philosophic in the movies, because the filmmakers were suddenly concerned with how well he compared to the wise little Yoda. They never had to worry. Kirk and Spock are still Kirk and Spock, and people still have an easy time telling these franchises apart. Star Trek Beyond was not the massive hit The Force Awakens was, because again, it embraced the complete wild and woolly legacy of its franchise. It doesn't take three movies to tell a Star Trek story (unless Spock dies).
Star Trek was born for the Internet Age. In some ways, it created the Internet Age. Everything's up for debate, and things are either loved or loathed. There's rarely any middle ground. That's how fans have talked about Star Trek all along. That's what put it in the position to be cancelled, all those years ago, because it was so polarizing, like the decade that spawned it. But today, nobody thinks of Star Trek as a product of the '60s. It's somehow transcended its own origins, even while fans continue to pour over the original series as if it were biblical truth (if that's your thing, and it certainly wasn't Gene Roddenberry's!), and only a heathen admits Star Trek might actually have...improved in later iterations.
The Next Generation, at its prime, did become the standard-bearer, but was quickly relegated to the same woes of its successors, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and Enterprise, as having to defend its legacy tooth and nail, its movies easy to dismiss, an era when Star Trek fell out of favor, not just among viewers but fans. There came a time when the franchise looked all but dead, with no one much interested in reviving it.
Today, you have absurd debates about Star Trek Into Darkness being the worst of all possible Treks, because it dared echo Wrath of Khan, and you wonder, what's it all about? Is it about rancor, about putting up little fences and finding enemies everywhere? Not the Star Trek I know. Apart from everything else, it's a message of hope, that we can overlook petty differences, finally, that we can find common ground. Like Star Trek. I can sometimes seem as if I want everyone to like everything. That's never been the case. I don't like everything. But it's always been odd, seeing how much passion Star Trek fans put into hating various pieces of the franchise. There's a million ways to love the franchise, to celebrate it, to boast about it. If Star Trek really did create the Internet Age, I think fifty years ago, something very different would have aired.
If there's something that hateful in "The Man Trap," and other episodes, I never saw it. Today, I remember, I choose to remember, the best of it, because that seems to be the standard Star Trek tried to set, all those years ago. If it's remembered in another fifty years, I think fans will have finally figured that out. Hopefully. The future's funny like that. Constantly going where no one has gone before...
Best Episodes:
- "The Trouble with Tribbles" (Star Trek 2x15) Nothing quite captures the spirit of the original series as this lark featuring the most unlikely menaces in the galaxy, plus Klingons!
- "Yesteryear" (The Animated Series 1x2) This crucial episode formed the basis of Spock's backstory as featured in 2009's Star Trek.
- "The Inner Light" (The Next Generation 5x25) The dignity of the series, and Picard, in a nutshell.
- "The Visitor" (Deep Space Nine 4x3) The deep bond between Sisko and his son embodied the soul of this series, and this is the best opportunity to explore it.
- "Distant Origin" (Voyager 3x23) The series often said to on the whole be the most generic of the franchise also made the quintessential episode of the franchise.
- "Twilight" (Enterprise 3x8) The third season Xindi arc helped define this series, and this is the episode that helped define the Xindi arc.
- Spock (Star Trek) With all due apologies to Kirk, this was the indisputably logical selection.
- Picard (Next Generation) They used to teach leadership lessons based on this guy.
- Sisko (Deep Space Nine) As noted above, he was the necessary soul of his show.
- Seven of Nine (Voyager) The curvaceous ex-Borg transformed what it meant to be human.
- Trip (Enterprise) The final episode revolved around him. People tend to forget that.
- Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (Star Trek) This Cold War capper perfectly encapsulated what it meant to love the original crew.
- Star Trek: First Contact (Next Generation) Picard's best showcase.
- Star Trek (2009) The introduction to the reboots is perfect.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Hey Howard Weinstein, Voyager and Enterprise did get what "Being Better" was all about, thank you
Reading Boarding the Enterprise, a celebration of Star Trek's legacy originally published ten years ago but rereleased to coincide with the franchise's fiftieth anniversary (I got the book thanks to AshleyRose Sullivan's giveaway, which she held on her excellent blog, My Year of Star Trek), I found some essays I particularly enjoyed, and some that kind of irritated me. One of the latter was the very last essay in the book, Howard Weinstein's "Being Better," which was about how the original series is best remembered as Gene Roddenberry's vision of a better tomorrow.
Which is fine and dandy. I mean, that's about the best summation of Star Trek you'll find, a common one, in fact, that you'll find littered throughout most of the commemorations of the anniversary. Where Weinstein's thoughts stick in my craw is when he suggests the sentiment is at its purest in the original series, and each subsequent iteration features diminishing returns, to the point where he suggests, "Voyager and Enterprise muted the message."
It bothers me because this is the legacy I've been battling for fifteen years, the idea that Star Trek has never again been as good as it was in the three original seasons. I get it. I really do. Loathe as they would be to admit it, Star Trek fans are slaves to nostalgia as much as anything else. It's perfectly valid to adhere to a thought process you developed years, even decades ago, but to continue to insist, in completely dismissive tones, the contributions later iterations of the franchise have had over the years, is just plain wrong.
Everyone knows (another contributor, Paul Levinson, whose "How Star Trek Liberated Television" is literally about how viewing audiences fragmented over the years, and is the essay just before Weinstein's in the collection) that the '90s represented the dawn of a seismic shift in ratings dominance between network and cable TV, which was directly reflected in the fortunes of the three later Star Trek shows, including Deep Space Nine. The popular shell game of the lack of unity within the Star Trek fanbase itself has consistently, in the past fifteen years, insisted that this was solely because of the product itself. I won't say that every Star Trek fan has to like every series. That's equally ridiculous. But to continually push the fiction that one series or another, or two or three of the last three series, simply didn't succeed because they weren't true to the spirit of Star Trek, has to end.
Because Weinstein singles out Voyager and Enterprise I'll discuss them here, and why they most emphatically did maintain Roddenberry's vision of a better future, in ways that were uniquely their own but totally in-line with what came before them. (In fact, the fact that they did was the main sticking point for a lot of younger fans, who didn't understand why Star Trek had to exist with this vision, when other, cooler sci-fi shows clearly didn't.)
Let's start with Voyager. Famously envisioned as the "Lost in Space" of the Star Trek franchise, and later usurped in the hearts of fans by the similar Battlestar Galactica (which took a very different outlook), this was all about a crew that was stranded far from home. Captain Janeway quickly decides that they will make the journey home, no matter how long it'll take, and in the process reconciles a group of Federation rebels into the crew, which will operate under the ideals of Starfleet. I don't see how any of that contradicts Roddenberry's vision. In fact, it's the greatest affirmation possible.
A lot of fans had problems with the show, whether because it was basically another exploration series with new dressing, or because they thought it was incredible that Janeway could so easily convince the rebels to join her crew. This speaks to the integrity of the fans more than anything, who clearly didn't understand what Roddenberry's vision was. You'd expect Weinstein to be better? Except he isn't. The very spirit of inclusiveness that was at the heart of Roddenberry's vision quickly turned defensive, when the promise of new Star Trek meant older fans might have to make room for competition from within. Ironically, it was the fans themselves who turned on the franchise's ideals, without once thinking twice about it.
Enterprise, meanwhile, was a prequel, and as such attempted to dramatize how Kirk's era came to be. Again, the very struggles Captain Archer's crew experienced in their adventures embodied the essence of Roddenberry's vision. Every time Archer had to admit his mistakes was a working example of what Star Trek was all about. Every time he struggled with his conscience (something that had been common in the franchise since Deep Space Nine) was the full-blown version of the dialogue Kirk so frequently indulged in with Spock and McCoy on his way to making some decision or other on an alien world that had somehow been corrupted and he had to decide whether or not to intervene. It wasn't simply the presence or absence of the Prime Directive, and Archer's dawning awareness that such a thing would probably be necessary, that made Enterprise reflect Roddenberry's ideals, all over again, but that when things were at their darkest, in the third season Xindi arc, Archer struggled the most.
If Archer's missteps, if his yearning to find common ground, was something less than the spirit of a better tomorrow, if Janeway somehow failed to live up to Weinstein's standards, it would have looked better for him if he hadn't so casually rejected their efforts. Listen, I know what fans have said about these shows over the years. I know it's easiest to embrace what the widest pool of fans have already embraced, but I thought the whole idea of Star Trek was that we stop letting petty differences get the best of us, and recognize the fact that we're better than we sometimes allow ourselves to believe.
Boarding the Enterprise has a surprising depth to it, looking at Star Trek from a large pool of perspectives. Some of it is decidedly irreverent, which I wish were more common among fans. Some of them take it far too seriously. Some don't take it seriously enough. Not one incarnation has failed to meet Gene Roddenberry's vision that tomorrow, things will be better. And maybe, tomorrow, fans will understand that, too. Maybe it doesn't matter, in the long run. Maybe it doesn't matter which fans like what. But I'd like to think every fan could recognize what Star Trek is, what it has always been, and stop trying to antagonize each other. Because that's the opposite of what it's all about. I recognize that it's ironic to complain about Weinstein's comments, in this spirit, but his perspective perfectly encapsulates everything that's wrong with everything that's right, why we're still imperfect, and why we can still hope to be better, tomorrow.
Which is fine and dandy. I mean, that's about the best summation of Star Trek you'll find, a common one, in fact, that you'll find littered throughout most of the commemorations of the anniversary. Where Weinstein's thoughts stick in my craw is when he suggests the sentiment is at its purest in the original series, and each subsequent iteration features diminishing returns, to the point where he suggests, "Voyager and Enterprise muted the message."
It bothers me because this is the legacy I've been battling for fifteen years, the idea that Star Trek has never again been as good as it was in the three original seasons. I get it. I really do. Loathe as they would be to admit it, Star Trek fans are slaves to nostalgia as much as anything else. It's perfectly valid to adhere to a thought process you developed years, even decades ago, but to continue to insist, in completely dismissive tones, the contributions later iterations of the franchise have had over the years, is just plain wrong.
Everyone knows (another contributor, Paul Levinson, whose "How Star Trek Liberated Television" is literally about how viewing audiences fragmented over the years, and is the essay just before Weinstein's in the collection) that the '90s represented the dawn of a seismic shift in ratings dominance between network and cable TV, which was directly reflected in the fortunes of the three later Star Trek shows, including Deep Space Nine. The popular shell game of the lack of unity within the Star Trek fanbase itself has consistently, in the past fifteen years, insisted that this was solely because of the product itself. I won't say that every Star Trek fan has to like every series. That's equally ridiculous. But to continually push the fiction that one series or another, or two or three of the last three series, simply didn't succeed because they weren't true to the spirit of Star Trek, has to end.
Because Weinstein singles out Voyager and Enterprise I'll discuss them here, and why they most emphatically did maintain Roddenberry's vision of a better future, in ways that were uniquely their own but totally in-line with what came before them. (In fact, the fact that they did was the main sticking point for a lot of younger fans, who didn't understand why Star Trek had to exist with this vision, when other, cooler sci-fi shows clearly didn't.)
Let's start with Voyager. Famously envisioned as the "Lost in Space" of the Star Trek franchise, and later usurped in the hearts of fans by the similar Battlestar Galactica (which took a very different outlook), this was all about a crew that was stranded far from home. Captain Janeway quickly decides that they will make the journey home, no matter how long it'll take, and in the process reconciles a group of Federation rebels into the crew, which will operate under the ideals of Starfleet. I don't see how any of that contradicts Roddenberry's vision. In fact, it's the greatest affirmation possible.
A lot of fans had problems with the show, whether because it was basically another exploration series with new dressing, or because they thought it was incredible that Janeway could so easily convince the rebels to join her crew. This speaks to the integrity of the fans more than anything, who clearly didn't understand what Roddenberry's vision was. You'd expect Weinstein to be better? Except he isn't. The very spirit of inclusiveness that was at the heart of Roddenberry's vision quickly turned defensive, when the promise of new Star Trek meant older fans might have to make room for competition from within. Ironically, it was the fans themselves who turned on the franchise's ideals, without once thinking twice about it.
Enterprise, meanwhile, was a prequel, and as such attempted to dramatize how Kirk's era came to be. Again, the very struggles Captain Archer's crew experienced in their adventures embodied the essence of Roddenberry's vision. Every time Archer had to admit his mistakes was a working example of what Star Trek was all about. Every time he struggled with his conscience (something that had been common in the franchise since Deep Space Nine) was the full-blown version of the dialogue Kirk so frequently indulged in with Spock and McCoy on his way to making some decision or other on an alien world that had somehow been corrupted and he had to decide whether or not to intervene. It wasn't simply the presence or absence of the Prime Directive, and Archer's dawning awareness that such a thing would probably be necessary, that made Enterprise reflect Roddenberry's ideals, all over again, but that when things were at their darkest, in the third season Xindi arc, Archer struggled the most.
If Archer's missteps, if his yearning to find common ground, was something less than the spirit of a better tomorrow, if Janeway somehow failed to live up to Weinstein's standards, it would have looked better for him if he hadn't so casually rejected their efforts. Listen, I know what fans have said about these shows over the years. I know it's easiest to embrace what the widest pool of fans have already embraced, but I thought the whole idea of Star Trek was that we stop letting petty differences get the best of us, and recognize the fact that we're better than we sometimes allow ourselves to believe.
Boarding the Enterprise has a surprising depth to it, looking at Star Trek from a large pool of perspectives. Some of it is decidedly irreverent, which I wish were more common among fans. Some of them take it far too seriously. Some don't take it seriously enough. Not one incarnation has failed to meet Gene Roddenberry's vision that tomorrow, things will be better. And maybe, tomorrow, fans will understand that, too. Maybe it doesn't matter, in the long run. Maybe it doesn't matter which fans like what. But I'd like to think every fan could recognize what Star Trek is, what it has always been, and stop trying to antagonize each other. Because that's the opposite of what it's all about. I recognize that it's ironic to complain about Weinstein's comments, in this spirit, but his perspective perfectly encapsulates everything that's wrong with everything that's right, why we're still imperfect, and why we can still hope to be better, tomorrow.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Your Star Trek Beyond Cheat Sheet
The 2009 reboot films have done a remarkable job synthesizing existing Star Trek mythology, and Star Trek Beyond is no different. Put on your seatbelts, settle in, (prepare for spoilers), and enjoy this little primer on everything you need to know (plus a few cool callbacks) in order to enjoy this new movie from a franchise perspective:
Now, some throwbacks to prior movies:
This one's for the Star Trek vs. Star Wars fans:
- U.S.S. Franklin - This century-old starship Kirk and company bring back into working order to stop Krall's plans to destroy the starbase Yorktown (we'll get back to that) is taken from the early Starfleet era depicted in Star Trek: Enterprise, which features the first ship to be called the Enterprise, an experimental design that's the first to hit warp 5. The Franklin is said to be the first ship to hit Warp 4. It's reasonable to assume that it was a design Starfleet worked on in the run-up to the NX-01 (Enterprise), and was later added to the expanding fleet (as the NX-326, if I remember the placard correctly).
- M.A.C.O.s - Its captain, who is introduced as Krall but later turns out to be commanding officer of the Franklin, was previously a M.A.C.O., an army service that helped feed the ranks of the emerging Starfleet program (Enterprise's Malcolm Reed came from a similar background). M.A.C.O.s were featured in Enterprise's third season, which featured the Xindi conflict referenced in Beyond.
- Xindi & Romulan conflicts - Speaking of the Xindi conflict, Elba's character also talks about a Romulan conflict. He's not talking about the events of 2009's Star Trek, which featured the rogue Romulan named Nero, but rather the Romulan War, which took place soon after the events of Enterprise and were the last time in the original canon anyone had contact with Romulans until the original series episode "Balance of Terror."
- Starbase Yorktown - The starbase Yorktown is named in honor of Gene Roddenberry's name for the startship in his first vision of Star Trek. This draft came even before the abandoned pilot "The Cage," which was later incorporated into the two-part "The Menagerie;" the original vision, featuring the Yorktown, had as its captain Robert April, who was later featured in the Animated Series episode "The Counter-Clock Incident," the last episode of the series, in fact.
- The Yorktown is actually takes the design of the original vision for the space station featured in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
- Three years into the mission - It might be said that Beyond is a metaphor of the fate of the original TV series, with events coming to a head and seeming conclusion three years into a five-year mission, with the crew forced to justify its ideals in the face of an implacable foe (previously, merely cancellation). Kirk references the episodic nature of his experiences, which is a nod to the series, which is often described as episodic in nature, one mission distinct from the next, which is to say unrelated.
- Cultural differences - The beginning of the movie features a humorous sequence in which Kirk attempts to make peace between two worlds, which proves difficult when a symbolic gesture from one world means something else entirely in the next. Archer faced blunders of this kind in Enterprise ("A Night in Sickbay") during the formative years of Starfleet.
- Death of Ambassador Spock - Those seeing their first Star Trek movie with Beyond may not be aware of the significance of the birth and death years depicted in the movie, assuming he had a fairly short life. On the contrary, Spock is observing the death of his counterpart from the original timeline, where they share a birth year, but Ambassador Spock lived on to the time of Picard (his journey in pursuit of Nero as depicted in Star Trek takes place after Nemesis), and his death picks up where he emerged in his own past. His death is a nod to actor Leonard Nimoy's death in the real world.
- Absent friends - At the end of the movie, Kirk proposes a toast to his crew. As he references absent friends, the camera focuses on Chekov. This is a nod to the recent death of the actor who portrayed in these films, Anton Yelchin, which is referenced in the credits with the "For Anton" card.
Now, some throwbacks to prior movies:
- The destruction of the Enterprise - This is something that happened twice previously, in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and Star Trek Generations. The saucer separation happens in both Generations and Beyond.
- Abandoning ship - The ship is abandoned in Search for Spock, although it's a limited crew complement (just the main characters, due to unique circumstances), and everyone beams safely away. The crew also abandons ship in Star Trek: First Contact, in a similar fashion to how it's depicted in Beyond.
- Getting an unlocking sequence accomplished - Speaking of First Contact, the way Kirk desperately must unlock a series of panels as he struggles against Krall in Beyond is similar to a sequence in which Picard and Worf desperately work to detach the deflector beacon and thus deprive the Borg of their main weapon in First Contact.
- Rogue villain taking on the whole Federation - This may seem somewhat unique to the terrorism era we're living in, but it's something Star Trek has been doing since at least Search for Spock, in which a rogue Klingon warrior attempts to lay claim to the Genesis Device (it might be argued that Khan is similarly engaged in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, but he's pretty singularly focused on Kirk as a target). Anyway, all four of the Picard movies (Generations, First Contact, Insurrection, and Nemesis) feature what at the time looked almost like Bond villains (Tom Hardy's Shinzon in Nemesis even unmistakably evokes recurring Bond foe Blofeld, last appearing in 2015's Spectre and portrayed by Christoph Waltz), feature this type of villain. Nero fits this model perfectly, and might be the easiest example to spot, and he's probably best understood in that light, the one we're unfortunately experiencing with alarming frequency these days. I'm told anarchists, a century ago, used to use dynamite like this, for what it's worth.
- The passage of time - Kirk deals with this in Wrath of Khan and its predecessor, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, although circumstances have changed considerably. In the original universe, it's because Kirk is literally aging. In this one, it's because he's now older than his father (George Kirk, depicted in Star Trek) was at the time of his heroic death.
- Spock considers leaving Starfleet - Not only is this a nod to the events of Star Trek and their lingering effects, but it evokes Leonard Nimoy's repeated intentions to distance himself from the franchise, both in the aborted second live-action TV series (which later gave way to The Motion Picture, where Spock does appear) but Wrath of Khan as well (Spock's death originally conceived as a way for Nimoy to gracefully exit; he returns promptly in Search for Spock).
This one's for the Star Trek vs. Star Wars fans:
- For as long as these franchises have existed alongside each other, the debate has been constant. And while the Star Trek movies have often tried to ramp up the action Star Wars helped bring to sci-fi movies, the 2009 reboot and its increased budget made the distinction harder than ever to distinguish. I think Beyond makes a pretty clear statement, in contrast to the recent Star Wars - Episode VII: The Force Awakens, in the similar characters of Jaylah (Beyond) and Rey (Force Awakens). Both are living in the ruins of an old ship. One of those ships becomes crucial to the rest of the movie (Jaylah's, which is the Franklin), whereas the other is quickly replaced by a more familiar, albeit well-loved, relic (the Millennium Falcon). Who Jaylah is and how she helps resolve matters is accomplished in one film, while Rey's journey will likely continue for another two films (a Star Wars custom). Where Star Wars handles the fate of empires, Star Trek is keenly concerned with the fate of ideals. (Clearly, they both value the merits of friendship and heroic commitment.)
Monday, July 18, 2016
A Brief Introduction to Star Trek's Movies (1979-2013)
With the imminent release of Star Trek Beyond in theaters, you may be wondering, you potential newbie to the franchise, what to make of the previous twelve movies. No doubt you've already heard quite a few definitive statements about which ones are excellent (Wrath of Khan normally gets that kind of acclaim) and which are skippable (Final Frontier). As with everything else, Star Trek Fan Companion is here to give you the insider's look, but from the perspective of not having to be a fan...
Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)
This first in the series was exactly a decade in the making. The three seasons of the original TV series concluded in 1969 (there was a short-lived animated series a few years later, plus an attempted live-action revival that led directly to The Motion Picture). You have to keep in mind that, other than the massive success of Star Wars, which was what prompted The Motion Picture into existence, the defining mark of science fiction on the big screen was 1968's 2001: A Space Odyssey, the elegiac hard science statement about man's origins and destiny that remains a cultural touchstone to this day (both due to its director, Stanley Kubrick, and the reputation of the author of the original book, Arthur C. Clarke).
This resulted in a clash of expectations. Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry didn't envision a sci-fi landscape like Star Wars. His was the more cerebral approach. He was always more interested in the human condition, what motivates us, how we react to adversity, and reacting to the state of the world as he found it (the TV show heavily commented on things like race relations and the Vietnam War). So the first Star Trek movie was always going to be more 2001 than Star Wars. In fact, The Motion Picture might best be understood as Star Trek's answer to 2001, rather than to Star Wars.
Its reputation, in the nearly forty years since its release, has been a response to the plodding nature of the quest to solve the riddle of what's been plowing through space. You can consider two additional Star Trek films (The Voyage Home and The Final Frontier) as direct creative responses to how to tell this same story differently, with more of a lively atmosphere to the proceedings. Here, though, they're dominated by the moody James Kirk, who's having a hard time dealing with the fact that history has passed him by. Decker has replaced him as captain of the Enterprise. The story is really about whether or not he unfairly steps over Decker to resume command of the ship, regardless of the circumstances. It's about whether there really are things bigger than us, not as a species but as individuals. That's why it becomes Decker's story as much as Kirk's, as he becomes intertwined in the fate of the woman he once loved, Ilia, who becomes an avatar of the phenomenon they're investigating. There's also Spock, who wonders if there's still something for him in the world of emotions.
Echoes of echoes of the major theme, which crystalizes in the realization that the enemy is really an old Earth probe, which is looking for its creator, and has no idea that mankind is what it's been looking for. It's lost touch with reality, and in its desperate attempt to reconnect, it's created all kinds of havoc along the way.
The Motion Picture is a creative statement that stands in stark contrast to the movie ethos Star Wars represented, and so fans have had a difficult time accepting it, even though it may be the definitive franchise statement in film. In their rush to embrace Kirk again, fans kind of ignored that The Motion Picture perfectly captures Kirk's character, ten years later...
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)
The result of this fundamental disconnect was the second movie being the exact opposite of the first one, despite sharing many of the same themes. Once again, Kirk is aging and not sure what to do with himself, and the villain is driven by motivations he doesn't clearly understand, except as direct reaction to a situation that is beyond him. (Yeah! Bet you never heard Khan described that way before!) We meet Kirk's son, David Marcus, who is exactly like him, but doesn't see it because their lives are pointed in opposite directions. And, Spock dies.
This is the fan-friendly film that's been enthusiastically embraced since its release. It revived popular interest in the franchise, and was acceptable to anyone whose previous touchstone was Star Wars, and like the original Star Trek series but wanted the original cast to have more life to it. It's filled with iconic moments, none of which are more iconic than Spock's death. Khan was the villain a story could really sink its teeth into, and again, fans could appreciate without thinking too much about.
Needless to say, I've never been a part of the Wrath of Khan bandwagon. As depicted, genetic superman Khan is a moron. The submarine warfare he engages in with Kirk may not be anything he was familiar with in his heyday (the Eugenics Wars of Star Trek's 1990s), but he's so consistently outsmarted that it really boils down to the surprise of his return, and nothing more, that motivates the whole story. The Genesis Device, which serves as a handy metaphor (and deus ex machine if you don't want your friendly neighborhood Vulcan to stay dead).
Because Wrath of Khan was so important to making Star Trek cool again (at least, among fans), it's always held a special place in the franchise, as the movie by which all others are compared. But, objectively, it really doesn't age well (Khan's minions look hopelessly dated, like the residents of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome ten years early, and eternally '80s), and its plotting is about as thin as you can get. It's certainly memorable, but it's not the creative gold standard you've been led to believe it is.
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984)
Its follow-up actually comes closer. This is one of the first direct sequels in film, from the modern, post-Star Wars era. As the title suggests, it's all about bringing Spock back to life. By its own logic, it's completely logical, and even lyrical. This is what it looks like when the franchise tries to tell a franchise story, which remained unique until Star Trek: The Next Generation on TV started looking into Klingon affairs more closely, which led directly to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: Enterprise, which were all about telling stories directly from the franchise bible.
But because it's so directly related to Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock never gets near the same kind of love. It appears so much more inevitable, less spontaneous, and therefor less vital an experience. But you really can't have one without the other. The first two Superman films are kind of like this, except Superman II remains popular because of its memorable focus on General Zod, whereas the villain of Search for Spock, a Klingon played by Christopher Lloyd (a year before his most memorable role, in Back to the Future), can't compare to Khan, even though the movie does what its predecessor, amazingly never did: have Kirk physically confront his enemy. (Although, in brief, the choreography doesn't really do the encounter justice, which actually keeps it in-line with the lousy stunts of the original series.)
If Spock returns, then a price must be paid. Actually, a pair of sacrifices, one of them being David Marcus, and the other the Enterprise. These are dramatic moments that rival Spock's death, as does the varied tone of the movie itself, rather than the heaviness everywhere on display in Wrath of Khan (in its own way, extending the legacy of The Motion Picture in that regard). Clearly this is still Star Trek in the Star Wars vein, but Search for Spock injects so much character unique to the franchise (any scene involving McCoy), it's hard to argue that it's trying to do so, so much as carrying on the ethic of the movie (Wrath of Khan) that did.
Subsequently, I've always considered Search for Spock better.
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)
"The one with the whales" is actually the first time the movies directly reflected Roddenberry's idea that Star Trek is really all about the message. Ostensibly the conclusion of a franchise trilogy (Kirk and crew must answer for the theft of the Enterprise in the last one), Voyage Home is ultimately Star Trek's answer to the strong environmentalist push that began in the '80s.
It's also the one where everyone learns that the levity Search for Spock served up could be expanded. It's the one where the goofiness of the classic episode "The Trouble with Tribbes" erupts on the big screen, as the crew finds itself strangers in a strange land, future humans forced to contend with the world of the 1980s, in all its glory. (Chekov inquiring after the location of "nuclear wessels" remains one of the best memories anyone has of these films.)
Fans tend to be embarrassed by this one, even though of the first ten movies it was the biggest hit at the box office (which meant a lot of people who weren't necessarily fans quite enjoyed it). This notion is absurd, that Voyage Home can't be enjoyable just because it's not drenched in heavy plotting. This is probably the first movie anyone could watch in the franchise, and totally get its appeal, no explanation needed.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)
Long maligned as the worst of the movies featuring the original cast, Final Frontier is about as true to the experience of the original series as the movies ever get, and now that's twenty years removed from the TV experience. And it shows. Fans no longer have any need to reference the series when thinking about the films. That's the Wrath of Khan effect for you.
Taking cues from Search for Spock, Final Frontier tries to be a grand action-filled adventure, featuring a villain who isn't as memorable as Khan (again), and the greatest peril anyone really faces being at the very beginning of the film, when Kirk goes mountain-climbing. It also smacks in the face of expectations by playing around with franchise mythology, introducing Spock's half-brother (the villain), who isn't particularly Vulcan even though, unlike Spock (whose mother was human), he is full Vulcan.
For all that, and for all its limitations, Final Frontier isn't that bad. As a bonding experience between Kirk, Spock, and McCoy (something denied and/or delayed by Spock's death previously), it's a fun experience, and you can probably leave it at that.
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)
This allegory for the end of the Cold War is arguably the best of the original cast films meant to evoke the Star Wars aesthetic. It's an adventure, but it also has a message, and talks very frankly about the perils of racism (not for nothing does Chekov evoke the movie Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, where a white girl brings home her black boyfriend to astonished parents; here the strange bedfellows are the Klingons).
It's both a story where franchise mythology counts, significantly (without needing a specific tether, as with the villainous Khan), but it's also a story that can stand on its own, and be viewed from a number of standpoints. And as the last of the movies featuring a mature cast, it doesn't demand any awkward action beats from the actors. Instead, they're finally allowed the dignity of positions they would have assumed years ago, if only those pesky movies with all their Star Wars demands hadn't gotten in the way.
Star Trek Generations (1994)
Living up to the billing of finally uniting Kirk with his Next Generation counterpart, Picard, was always going to be difficult, especially when fans were bound to be upset that only one of them would come out of it alive (hint: not Kirk). For a series of movies that had been awkwardly juggling their place in the greater film lore since The Motion Picture, this was always going to be an impossible order.
So Generations subverts all expectations, and does the sci-fi equivalent of the classic Western showdown. This was always fitting, because Roddenberry envisioned Star Trek as a sci-fi Western. Next Generation fans got a huge bonus from the proceedings when Data, the android who spent seven seasons desperately yearning to become more human, got emotions, even if they end up playing havoc. Picard's emotions are running high, too, when he learns that his brother and as a result the last of the continuing Picard lineage has died, a metaphor for anyone wondering whether Star Trek dies with Kirk. (Notably, no one ever got that metaphor.)
Patrick Stewart, who portrayed Picard, was always noted as the most capable thespian Star Trek ever saw, and Generations was the first attempt to give him something worthy of his talents. And yet, by the end of the movie, the emotional journey he takes ends with him simply mourning Kirk's death, along with everyone else. Fans tend to feel cheated by Generations, and that's probably the metaphor to keep in mind. But it's a truly magical experience, everything Final Frontier hoped to be. Fitting, in a way.
Star Trek: First Contact (1996)
For a different generation (heh), First Contact is the new Wrath of Khan. It's thrilling adventure you thought Star Trek could never produce, infused with series-specific foes (this time, the Borg). And it's a story so focused on getting the best out of Picard, it pushes him to the breaking point (something other stories tried, but here finally happens, in the "ready room sequence" where he tries to explain his complex attitude toward his enemies, which is a story point the film builds toward from the very first scene, and absolutely delivers on).
It's hard for me to even pretend to be objective about this one, because it's been an unabashed favorite for twenty years. So let's just move along.
Star Trek: Insurrection (1998)
The "long episode" one, although I think its biggest problem is that Insurrection introduces a classic Star Trek message that's still difficult to accept, despite the fact that literally the whole history of the United States, where these movies are made, is built on the legacy of what it seeks to address: the plight of Native Americans.
There's a certain amount of Final Frontier clunkiness built into Insurrection, which like its predecessor was envisioned as the opposite of the film that came before it. Fans really liked First Contact. So anything that tried something different (because, as with Wrath of Khan, part of First Contact's charm is that it adequately fills Star Wars-inspired expectations for action-heavy sci-fi films). The studio tried to sell Picard's moral stance as a rebellion against the Federation itself (it wasn't). And any attempt to sell fans on completely new aliens (by this point, dedicated ones had built up an idea that it had to be mythology-specific, and even on that score, Insurrection failed to directly address then Dominion War arc playing out concurrently in Deep Space Nine).
Bottom line, this was the ninth Star Trek films. Mainstream audiences didn't care. And fans generally didn't, either. Not that it was the film's fault.
Star Trek Nemesis (2002)
Because Wrath of Khan was such a touchstone for fans, anytime another film even slightly evoked it, they tended to shrink back in defensive postures. Nemesis, which casts Picard against the specter of his youth (that's a story that goes all the way back to The Motion Picture, thank you very much) in the Romulan-engineered clone Shinzon (Tom Hardy's headlining debut), is filled with too many action beats (as opposed to how this was embraced with First Contact) for fans increasingly confused as to what they want.
Wider audiences, meanwhile, had Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings leading the charge for Hollywood, which was about to finally crack the Star Wars code (about thirty years later). Star Trek, which had been the leading contender during that timeframe, was now an also-ran, and its contribution all but completely ignored, and outright derided by fans.
Yet the film itself is the most mature statement from the Picard era, like Undiscovered Country before it speaking to the fate of empires, but also directly to the soul of Picard himself, who had gotten this kind of treatment for three films already, but never to an extent where he couldn't cope, never so that defeat was actually possible. The death of Data was considered the most egregious lift from Wrath of Khan, but it's serves as a perfect metaphor (Spock's death was one, too) for Picard's success, or failure, in the preceding events. Star Trek was always about making you think about why things happened. Look at the fallen face of Picard, as Shinzon impales himself, as Data sacrifices himself. Words, for once, cannot express the depth of what has happened. Nemesis concludes the cinematic adventures of Picard by deciding he's best left speechless. It's as bold a creative statement as The Motion Picture's leisurely pace.
Star Trek (2009)
The J.J. Abrams reboot has drawn considerable ire from fans for having embraced the Star Wars conceit. Ironic, isn't it? These are also the most successful films in the series at the box office. These are big adventures, but also the ones that ask the most of its characters, whose individual journeys are more important than the action around them.
Here, we explore the journeys of Kirk and Spock as never before, and find out what made them such good friends to begin with (hint: they started out despising each other). If Roddenberry always envisioned a future where we finally put our differences behind us, Star Trek is finally where we see it happen with the characters themselves. Tellingly, it's a message that's gone on deaf ears. I mean, just look at the news today...
Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)
This delicate rephrasing of Wrath of Khan predictably enraged fans (they list this as the worst Star Trek movie!), even as it resonates deeply with everything that came before it, in the best possible way. In the age of terrorism (which Star Trek has always explored, from Bajorans to Maquis to Xindi) and secret police in the post-Cold War world, what would using Khan look like? As fans thought of the film itself (again, ironically), it turns out to be a bad idea, and also a good one. I mean, without Khan, the bad guys would have gotten away with it.
This is complex storytelling, and it's the very finest tradition of observing the mythology, and building on it. Into Darkness proves that the new Star Trek movies aren't just the franchise version of Star Wars (but, that's been going on anyway, since Wrath of Khan) (again, ironically!), but about seeing how well these things can really be made, with all the stops finally let out. There's a marked difference between Nemesis and Star Trek, even though they were both made in the same era. That's not just filmmaking at work, but budget. Now, every blockbuster is given an outrageous budget. But the results are usually far less ambitious than Star Trek as it was always conceived.
So, let's see how they stack up:
Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)
This first in the series was exactly a decade in the making. The three seasons of the original TV series concluded in 1969 (there was a short-lived animated series a few years later, plus an attempted live-action revival that led directly to The Motion Picture). You have to keep in mind that, other than the massive success of Star Wars, which was what prompted The Motion Picture into existence, the defining mark of science fiction on the big screen was 1968's 2001: A Space Odyssey, the elegiac hard science statement about man's origins and destiny that remains a cultural touchstone to this day (both due to its director, Stanley Kubrick, and the reputation of the author of the original book, Arthur C. Clarke).
This resulted in a clash of expectations. Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry didn't envision a sci-fi landscape like Star Wars. His was the more cerebral approach. He was always more interested in the human condition, what motivates us, how we react to adversity, and reacting to the state of the world as he found it (the TV show heavily commented on things like race relations and the Vietnam War). So the first Star Trek movie was always going to be more 2001 than Star Wars. In fact, The Motion Picture might best be understood as Star Trek's answer to 2001, rather than to Star Wars.
Its reputation, in the nearly forty years since its release, has been a response to the plodding nature of the quest to solve the riddle of what's been plowing through space. You can consider two additional Star Trek films (The Voyage Home and The Final Frontier) as direct creative responses to how to tell this same story differently, with more of a lively atmosphere to the proceedings. Here, though, they're dominated by the moody James Kirk, who's having a hard time dealing with the fact that history has passed him by. Decker has replaced him as captain of the Enterprise. The story is really about whether or not he unfairly steps over Decker to resume command of the ship, regardless of the circumstances. It's about whether there really are things bigger than us, not as a species but as individuals. That's why it becomes Decker's story as much as Kirk's, as he becomes intertwined in the fate of the woman he once loved, Ilia, who becomes an avatar of the phenomenon they're investigating. There's also Spock, who wonders if there's still something for him in the world of emotions.
Echoes of echoes of the major theme, which crystalizes in the realization that the enemy is really an old Earth probe, which is looking for its creator, and has no idea that mankind is what it's been looking for. It's lost touch with reality, and in its desperate attempt to reconnect, it's created all kinds of havoc along the way.
The Motion Picture is a creative statement that stands in stark contrast to the movie ethos Star Wars represented, and so fans have had a difficult time accepting it, even though it may be the definitive franchise statement in film. In their rush to embrace Kirk again, fans kind of ignored that The Motion Picture perfectly captures Kirk's character, ten years later...
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)
The result of this fundamental disconnect was the second movie being the exact opposite of the first one, despite sharing many of the same themes. Once again, Kirk is aging and not sure what to do with himself, and the villain is driven by motivations he doesn't clearly understand, except as direct reaction to a situation that is beyond him. (Yeah! Bet you never heard Khan described that way before!) We meet Kirk's son, David Marcus, who is exactly like him, but doesn't see it because their lives are pointed in opposite directions. And, Spock dies.
This is the fan-friendly film that's been enthusiastically embraced since its release. It revived popular interest in the franchise, and was acceptable to anyone whose previous touchstone was Star Wars, and like the original Star Trek series but wanted the original cast to have more life to it. It's filled with iconic moments, none of which are more iconic than Spock's death. Khan was the villain a story could really sink its teeth into, and again, fans could appreciate without thinking too much about.
Needless to say, I've never been a part of the Wrath of Khan bandwagon. As depicted, genetic superman Khan is a moron. The submarine warfare he engages in with Kirk may not be anything he was familiar with in his heyday (the Eugenics Wars of Star Trek's 1990s), but he's so consistently outsmarted that it really boils down to the surprise of his return, and nothing more, that motivates the whole story. The Genesis Device, which serves as a handy metaphor (and deus ex machine if you don't want your friendly neighborhood Vulcan to stay dead).
Because Wrath of Khan was so important to making Star Trek cool again (at least, among fans), it's always held a special place in the franchise, as the movie by which all others are compared. But, objectively, it really doesn't age well (Khan's minions look hopelessly dated, like the residents of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome ten years early, and eternally '80s), and its plotting is about as thin as you can get. It's certainly memorable, but it's not the creative gold standard you've been led to believe it is.
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984)
Its follow-up actually comes closer. This is one of the first direct sequels in film, from the modern, post-Star Wars era. As the title suggests, it's all about bringing Spock back to life. By its own logic, it's completely logical, and even lyrical. This is what it looks like when the franchise tries to tell a franchise story, which remained unique until Star Trek: The Next Generation on TV started looking into Klingon affairs more closely, which led directly to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: Enterprise, which were all about telling stories directly from the franchise bible.
But because it's so directly related to Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock never gets near the same kind of love. It appears so much more inevitable, less spontaneous, and therefor less vital an experience. But you really can't have one without the other. The first two Superman films are kind of like this, except Superman II remains popular because of its memorable focus on General Zod, whereas the villain of Search for Spock, a Klingon played by Christopher Lloyd (a year before his most memorable role, in Back to the Future), can't compare to Khan, even though the movie does what its predecessor, amazingly never did: have Kirk physically confront his enemy. (Although, in brief, the choreography doesn't really do the encounter justice, which actually keeps it in-line with the lousy stunts of the original series.)
If Spock returns, then a price must be paid. Actually, a pair of sacrifices, one of them being David Marcus, and the other the Enterprise. These are dramatic moments that rival Spock's death, as does the varied tone of the movie itself, rather than the heaviness everywhere on display in Wrath of Khan (in its own way, extending the legacy of The Motion Picture in that regard). Clearly this is still Star Trek in the Star Wars vein, but Search for Spock injects so much character unique to the franchise (any scene involving McCoy), it's hard to argue that it's trying to do so, so much as carrying on the ethic of the movie (Wrath of Khan) that did.
Subsequently, I've always considered Search for Spock better.
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)
"The one with the whales" is actually the first time the movies directly reflected Roddenberry's idea that Star Trek is really all about the message. Ostensibly the conclusion of a franchise trilogy (Kirk and crew must answer for the theft of the Enterprise in the last one), Voyage Home is ultimately Star Trek's answer to the strong environmentalist push that began in the '80s.
It's also the one where everyone learns that the levity Search for Spock served up could be expanded. It's the one where the goofiness of the classic episode "The Trouble with Tribbes" erupts on the big screen, as the crew finds itself strangers in a strange land, future humans forced to contend with the world of the 1980s, in all its glory. (Chekov inquiring after the location of "nuclear wessels" remains one of the best memories anyone has of these films.)
Fans tend to be embarrassed by this one, even though of the first ten movies it was the biggest hit at the box office (which meant a lot of people who weren't necessarily fans quite enjoyed it). This notion is absurd, that Voyage Home can't be enjoyable just because it's not drenched in heavy plotting. This is probably the first movie anyone could watch in the franchise, and totally get its appeal, no explanation needed.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)
Long maligned as the worst of the movies featuring the original cast, Final Frontier is about as true to the experience of the original series as the movies ever get, and now that's twenty years removed from the TV experience. And it shows. Fans no longer have any need to reference the series when thinking about the films. That's the Wrath of Khan effect for you.
Taking cues from Search for Spock, Final Frontier tries to be a grand action-filled adventure, featuring a villain who isn't as memorable as Khan (again), and the greatest peril anyone really faces being at the very beginning of the film, when Kirk goes mountain-climbing. It also smacks in the face of expectations by playing around with franchise mythology, introducing Spock's half-brother (the villain), who isn't particularly Vulcan even though, unlike Spock (whose mother was human), he is full Vulcan.
For all that, and for all its limitations, Final Frontier isn't that bad. As a bonding experience between Kirk, Spock, and McCoy (something denied and/or delayed by Spock's death previously), it's a fun experience, and you can probably leave it at that.
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)
This allegory for the end of the Cold War is arguably the best of the original cast films meant to evoke the Star Wars aesthetic. It's an adventure, but it also has a message, and talks very frankly about the perils of racism (not for nothing does Chekov evoke the movie Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, where a white girl brings home her black boyfriend to astonished parents; here the strange bedfellows are the Klingons).
It's both a story where franchise mythology counts, significantly (without needing a specific tether, as with the villainous Khan), but it's also a story that can stand on its own, and be viewed from a number of standpoints. And as the last of the movies featuring a mature cast, it doesn't demand any awkward action beats from the actors. Instead, they're finally allowed the dignity of positions they would have assumed years ago, if only those pesky movies with all their Star Wars demands hadn't gotten in the way.
Star Trek Generations (1994)
Living up to the billing of finally uniting Kirk with his Next Generation counterpart, Picard, was always going to be difficult, especially when fans were bound to be upset that only one of them would come out of it alive (hint: not Kirk). For a series of movies that had been awkwardly juggling their place in the greater film lore since The Motion Picture, this was always going to be an impossible order.
So Generations subverts all expectations, and does the sci-fi equivalent of the classic Western showdown. This was always fitting, because Roddenberry envisioned Star Trek as a sci-fi Western. Next Generation fans got a huge bonus from the proceedings when Data, the android who spent seven seasons desperately yearning to become more human, got emotions, even if they end up playing havoc. Picard's emotions are running high, too, when he learns that his brother and as a result the last of the continuing Picard lineage has died, a metaphor for anyone wondering whether Star Trek dies with Kirk. (Notably, no one ever got that metaphor.)
Patrick Stewart, who portrayed Picard, was always noted as the most capable thespian Star Trek ever saw, and Generations was the first attempt to give him something worthy of his talents. And yet, by the end of the movie, the emotional journey he takes ends with him simply mourning Kirk's death, along with everyone else. Fans tend to feel cheated by Generations, and that's probably the metaphor to keep in mind. But it's a truly magical experience, everything Final Frontier hoped to be. Fitting, in a way.
Star Trek: First Contact (1996)
For a different generation (heh), First Contact is the new Wrath of Khan. It's thrilling adventure you thought Star Trek could never produce, infused with series-specific foes (this time, the Borg). And it's a story so focused on getting the best out of Picard, it pushes him to the breaking point (something other stories tried, but here finally happens, in the "ready room sequence" where he tries to explain his complex attitude toward his enemies, which is a story point the film builds toward from the very first scene, and absolutely delivers on).
It's hard for me to even pretend to be objective about this one, because it's been an unabashed favorite for twenty years. So let's just move along.
Star Trek: Insurrection (1998)
The "long episode" one, although I think its biggest problem is that Insurrection introduces a classic Star Trek message that's still difficult to accept, despite the fact that literally the whole history of the United States, where these movies are made, is built on the legacy of what it seeks to address: the plight of Native Americans.
There's a certain amount of Final Frontier clunkiness built into Insurrection, which like its predecessor was envisioned as the opposite of the film that came before it. Fans really liked First Contact. So anything that tried something different (because, as with Wrath of Khan, part of First Contact's charm is that it adequately fills Star Wars-inspired expectations for action-heavy sci-fi films). The studio tried to sell Picard's moral stance as a rebellion against the Federation itself (it wasn't). And any attempt to sell fans on completely new aliens (by this point, dedicated ones had built up an idea that it had to be mythology-specific, and even on that score, Insurrection failed to directly address then Dominion War arc playing out concurrently in Deep Space Nine).
Bottom line, this was the ninth Star Trek films. Mainstream audiences didn't care. And fans generally didn't, either. Not that it was the film's fault.
Star Trek Nemesis (2002)
Because Wrath of Khan was such a touchstone for fans, anytime another film even slightly evoked it, they tended to shrink back in defensive postures. Nemesis, which casts Picard against the specter of his youth (that's a story that goes all the way back to The Motion Picture, thank you very much) in the Romulan-engineered clone Shinzon (Tom Hardy's headlining debut), is filled with too many action beats (as opposed to how this was embraced with First Contact) for fans increasingly confused as to what they want.
Wider audiences, meanwhile, had Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings leading the charge for Hollywood, which was about to finally crack the Star Wars code (about thirty years later). Star Trek, which had been the leading contender during that timeframe, was now an also-ran, and its contribution all but completely ignored, and outright derided by fans.
Yet the film itself is the most mature statement from the Picard era, like Undiscovered Country before it speaking to the fate of empires, but also directly to the soul of Picard himself, who had gotten this kind of treatment for three films already, but never to an extent where he couldn't cope, never so that defeat was actually possible. The death of Data was considered the most egregious lift from Wrath of Khan, but it's serves as a perfect metaphor (Spock's death was one, too) for Picard's success, or failure, in the preceding events. Star Trek was always about making you think about why things happened. Look at the fallen face of Picard, as Shinzon impales himself, as Data sacrifices himself. Words, for once, cannot express the depth of what has happened. Nemesis concludes the cinematic adventures of Picard by deciding he's best left speechless. It's as bold a creative statement as The Motion Picture's leisurely pace.
Star Trek (2009)
The J.J. Abrams reboot has drawn considerable ire from fans for having embraced the Star Wars conceit. Ironic, isn't it? These are also the most successful films in the series at the box office. These are big adventures, but also the ones that ask the most of its characters, whose individual journeys are more important than the action around them.
Here, we explore the journeys of Kirk and Spock as never before, and find out what made them such good friends to begin with (hint: they started out despising each other). If Roddenberry always envisioned a future where we finally put our differences behind us, Star Trek is finally where we see it happen with the characters themselves. Tellingly, it's a message that's gone on deaf ears. I mean, just look at the news today...
Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)
This delicate rephrasing of Wrath of Khan predictably enraged fans (they list this as the worst Star Trek movie!), even as it resonates deeply with everything that came before it, in the best possible way. In the age of terrorism (which Star Trek has always explored, from Bajorans to Maquis to Xindi) and secret police in the post-Cold War world, what would using Khan look like? As fans thought of the film itself (again, ironically), it turns out to be a bad idea, and also a good one. I mean, without Khan, the bad guys would have gotten away with it.
This is complex storytelling, and it's the very finest tradition of observing the mythology, and building on it. Into Darkness proves that the new Star Trek movies aren't just the franchise version of Star Wars (but, that's been going on anyway, since Wrath of Khan) (again, ironically!), but about seeing how well these things can really be made, with all the stops finally let out. There's a marked difference between Nemesis and Star Trek, even though they were both made in the same era. That's not just filmmaking at work, but budget. Now, every blockbuster is given an outrageous budget. But the results are usually far less ambitious than Star Trek as it was always conceived.
So, let's see how they stack up:
- Star Trek: First Contact (big on emotion, action, resonance)
- Star Trek (the movies as fans always wanted them, and general audiences, too)
- Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (the original cast at its most dynamic)
- Star Trek: The Motion Picture (the original cast at its most profound)
- Star Trek Into Darkness (the perfect follow-up)
- Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (the perfect sequel)
- Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (the big vision at its most viewer-friendly)
- Star Trek Nemesis (wrestling the deepest depths of the franchise)
- Star Trek Generations (the epic encounter)
- Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (the fan benchmark)
- Star Trek: Insurrection (the big vision at its most challenging)
- Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (the biggest question, the original vision)
Friday, July 8, 2016
In Which I Just Don't Get George Takei
In a recent interview, George Takei, original portrayer of Hikaru Sulu, expresses his dismay that John Cho's Sulu will be revealed as gay in Star Trek Beyond, in theaters a few weeks from now. Read about Takei's thoughts here.
I don't get it, because Takei came out of the closet more than a decade ago. You'd think he'd be thrilled that the new movie pays tribute to his legacy like that. Yet he steadfastly insists that this decision instead flies in the face of everything Gene Roddenberry sought to accomplish. I just don't get it.
Star Trek's legacy of tackling the issue of the LGBT community is a spotty one. Various episodes have done analogies about it over the years ("The Host" and "The Outcast" from The Next Generation, "Rejoined" from Deep Space Nine, for instance), but famously, the franchise has never touched on it directly. "Trouble with Tribbles" screenwriter David Gerrold pitched such a script to Next Generation, but it was rejected. Advocates have suggested it could be as simple as showing background actors engaged in same-sex relationships, without ever having to draw direct attention to it. To have a main character, especially one as well-known, in either incarnation, as Sulu, is groundbreaking in a way that at one time seemed impossible.
It's all the more baffling because, as pointed out, Takei himself is gay. You'd think he would be thrilled. But Star Trek can sometimes be overly protective of its own legacy. Gene Roddenberry famously nixed the idea of having Saavik, who appeared in prominent roles in Wrath of Khan and Search for Spock, being revealed as a Federation traitor in Undiscovered Country, because he thought she'd reached "beloved character status." I guess the same didn't go for Cartwright, who wasn't nearly as lucky. He appeared as a good guy in Voyage Home, and as a bad guy in Undiscovered Country.
I have to assume that's the kind of logic at play here. Leonard Nimoy nixed an appearance in Generations because he felt the script didn't give enough justification for Spock to be there. (Scotty and Chekov more or less got the material intended for the famous Vulcan.) He didn't want to appear in the would-be '70s TV show, and requested Spock's death in Wrath of Khan because he still didn't want to continue in the franchise. Takei, meanwhile, has been advocating nearly as hard as Shatner to make further appearances in the franchise. One gets the impression, based on his further remarks, that if a gay character finally appeared in Star Trek, it would have to be Takei playing the part. Just not as Sulu. For whatever reason.
Maybe it's the psychology of being a gay man who spent more than half his life having to hide who he was, I don't know. But it just doesn't make sense to me. As the article points out, Sulu by far had the least character definition from his generation. Uhura, at least, got to sing and dance. Chekov had his Russian heritage. Sulu? He fenced that one time, and liked antique pistols. That's basically the extent of the Sulu biography, from three seasons and six movies.
There's also the matter of the promotion. Sulu was supposed to be a captain in Wrath of Khan. One of the reasons Takei in particular is bitter to this day toward Shatner is because that didn't happen. I can't really say what Sulu had done, particularly, to that point in Star Trek lore, that would have justified such a rank, other than for the mere sake of doing it. Chekov was the only character who'd been reassigned to another ship as of that film. There was another character moment lost in the filming of Voyage Home, in which Sulu would have met his own ancestor, if the little kid they chose had been a committed actor of any extraction. And anyway, he did become captain, the only character to be anywhere besides the bridge of the Enterprise during Undiscovered Country, besides the imperiled Kirk and Bones.
His daughter appears in Generations. According to the non-canon novel Captain's Daughter, I guess Sulu has a one-night fling with some kind of goddess? Definitely an air-tight case for heterosexuality, right there...There's literally nothing preventing Sulu from always having been gay, from Takei's era to Cho's. Into Darkness had already given Takei's Sulu a direct nod in a deliberate sequence where Sulu's command ability is proven, just like the combat training joke from Star Trek. It's entirely within the character of the new Star Trek movies to continue making direct nods to Takei's Sulu, both in front of and behind the camera. He should be flattered beyond all measure at this point.
So again, I say it just doesn't make sense to me. There are ways to explain it, but they're all incredibly weak. Cho's Sulu is gay. End of story. This is a good thing, George Takei.
I don't get it, because Takei came out of the closet more than a decade ago. You'd think he'd be thrilled that the new movie pays tribute to his legacy like that. Yet he steadfastly insists that this decision instead flies in the face of everything Gene Roddenberry sought to accomplish. I just don't get it.
Star Trek's legacy of tackling the issue of the LGBT community is a spotty one. Various episodes have done analogies about it over the years ("The Host" and "The Outcast" from The Next Generation, "Rejoined" from Deep Space Nine, for instance), but famously, the franchise has never touched on it directly. "Trouble with Tribbles" screenwriter David Gerrold pitched such a script to Next Generation, but it was rejected. Advocates have suggested it could be as simple as showing background actors engaged in same-sex relationships, without ever having to draw direct attention to it. To have a main character, especially one as well-known, in either incarnation, as Sulu, is groundbreaking in a way that at one time seemed impossible.
It's all the more baffling because, as pointed out, Takei himself is gay. You'd think he would be thrilled. But Star Trek can sometimes be overly protective of its own legacy. Gene Roddenberry famously nixed the idea of having Saavik, who appeared in prominent roles in Wrath of Khan and Search for Spock, being revealed as a Federation traitor in Undiscovered Country, because he thought she'd reached "beloved character status." I guess the same didn't go for Cartwright, who wasn't nearly as lucky. He appeared as a good guy in Voyage Home, and as a bad guy in Undiscovered Country.
I have to assume that's the kind of logic at play here. Leonard Nimoy nixed an appearance in Generations because he felt the script didn't give enough justification for Spock to be there. (Scotty and Chekov more or less got the material intended for the famous Vulcan.) He didn't want to appear in the would-be '70s TV show, and requested Spock's death in Wrath of Khan because he still didn't want to continue in the franchise. Takei, meanwhile, has been advocating nearly as hard as Shatner to make further appearances in the franchise. One gets the impression, based on his further remarks, that if a gay character finally appeared in Star Trek, it would have to be Takei playing the part. Just not as Sulu. For whatever reason.
Maybe it's the psychology of being a gay man who spent more than half his life having to hide who he was, I don't know. But it just doesn't make sense to me. As the article points out, Sulu by far had the least character definition from his generation. Uhura, at least, got to sing and dance. Chekov had his Russian heritage. Sulu? He fenced that one time, and liked antique pistols. That's basically the extent of the Sulu biography, from three seasons and six movies.
There's also the matter of the promotion. Sulu was supposed to be a captain in Wrath of Khan. One of the reasons Takei in particular is bitter to this day toward Shatner is because that didn't happen. I can't really say what Sulu had done, particularly, to that point in Star Trek lore, that would have justified such a rank, other than for the mere sake of doing it. Chekov was the only character who'd been reassigned to another ship as of that film. There was another character moment lost in the filming of Voyage Home, in which Sulu would have met his own ancestor, if the little kid they chose had been a committed actor of any extraction. And anyway, he did become captain, the only character to be anywhere besides the bridge of the Enterprise during Undiscovered Country, besides the imperiled Kirk and Bones.
His daughter appears in Generations. According to the non-canon novel Captain's Daughter, I guess Sulu has a one-night fling with some kind of goddess? Definitely an air-tight case for heterosexuality, right there...There's literally nothing preventing Sulu from always having been gay, from Takei's era to Cho's. Into Darkness had already given Takei's Sulu a direct nod in a deliberate sequence where Sulu's command ability is proven, just like the combat training joke from Star Trek. It's entirely within the character of the new Star Trek movies to continue making direct nods to Takei's Sulu, both in front of and behind the camera. He should be flattered beyond all measure at this point.
So again, I say it just doesn't make sense to me. There are ways to explain it, but they're all incredibly weak. Cho's Sulu is gay. End of story. This is a good thing, George Takei.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Death of Anton Yelchin
The death of Anton Yelchin, who portrayed Chekov in Star Trek, Star Trek Into Darkness, and the forthcoming Star Trek Beyond, came as shocking news to fans, following a car accident on Sunday. As part of the reboot generation, Yelchin embodied the boy genius Chekov with considerable charisma while maintaining a separate starring role career, in which he was featured in such films as Alpha Dog, Charlie Bartlett, Terminator: Salvation, and Fright Night. Regardless of where the Star Trek film franchise goes from here, Yelchin will be missed considerably. He was 27.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Star Trek Beyond trailer
StarTrek.com has the trailer for the new movie, releasing next summer (July 22nd). You can view it here.
The music accompanying it comes from 2009's Star Trek, the debut of the so-called Abramsverse. A lot of older fans don't seem to like the new movies, calling them action-heavy would-be Treks that have lost the feel of the franchise. The Star Trek I know and love has always featured character-heavy plots, which is the best way to describe the new movies. My favorite Trek is Deep Space Nine, and that's about as character-heavy as you can get. But from the beginning, the franchise was known for its characters almost beyond (heh) anything else. There's a reason why there was such resistance to the debut of The Next Generation with its entirely new crew, because fans didn't want to accept Star Trek without Kirk and Spock, who dominated six feature films well past the end of their TV adventures.
To say that action was never a part of the Trek formula is to forget the many fight scenes in the original series. I remember them. They were badly, badly choreographed. Anyone should be able to admit that. From "Balance of Terror" onward, space battles have been a part of Trek lore, well before the advent of the Star Wars era.
Trek fans tend to be incredibly slow at embracing something new, which is to say resistant to change. (Or perhaps they're just mad that these are by far the most successful films in franchise history.) And they can't let go of their cherished memories. For years, well into the runs of Next Generation and Deep Space Nine, they were insisting that the best episodes in franchise history were almost exclusive to the original series. They still insist the best movie is the second one, The Wrath of Khan, even though there have been ten more released since then. Any of those that even slightly evoke (it's called an homage, folks) Khan are called shameless ripoffs. These fans, who are supposed to be the smartest fans in our whole culture, routinely act like the dumbed.
So I'll sit back and enjoy the new trailer, thank you very much, and highly anticipate the new movie. I've been watching Star Trek for most of my life. My first exposure was the original series. But I've been enjoying the rest of it, too. I'd be very happy for that trend to continue.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Star Trek 3x24 "Turnabout Intruder"
rating: **
Memory Alpha summary
It's the last episode of the series!
And as it turns out, the third season saved its dirtiest trick for last. Throughout the season, the creators seemed to take every opportunity to challenge fans by flipping the script, or by simply seeing how far they could push things. "Turnabout Intruder," in fact, plays almost like the Kirk version of "Spock's Brain." Take that for what you will, but as with "Brain" this is not necessarily a bad thing.
In some ways, it's a very good thing. It's our opportunity to view the captain long stereotyped as a ladies man from the other side, quite literally, as a woman who felt betrayed by him in the past assumes control of his body.
In a lot of ways, it's a pretty standard episode, and by modern standards hardly fitting for a series finale, but there was no more way to know then that it was going to be the last one than it would've been after the second season, or first, whenever the series seemed in mortal danger.
To put Kirk to the test like this, though, is in hindsight clever and entirely appropriate. In the movies we would meet another defining love interest from Kirk's past, Carol Marcus. It's still weird to think that everyone Kirk knew before the Enterprise was basically an obstacle in his life. Most of the time he knew it. This time he didn't. In fact, he's the one who was the jerk.
Probably tough to see something like that explored about a character who is traditionally considered ideally heroic, and from the vantage point of someone obviously unbalanced (read: insane). But there you go.
And there the series goes!
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Majel Roddenberry
It's the last episode of the series!
And as it turns out, the third season saved its dirtiest trick for last. Throughout the season, the creators seemed to take every opportunity to challenge fans by flipping the script, or by simply seeing how far they could push things. "Turnabout Intruder," in fact, plays almost like the Kirk version of "Spock's Brain." Take that for what you will, but as with "Brain" this is not necessarily a bad thing.
In some ways, it's a very good thing. It's our opportunity to view the captain long stereotyped as a ladies man from the other side, quite literally, as a woman who felt betrayed by him in the past assumes control of his body.
In a lot of ways, it's a pretty standard episode, and by modern standards hardly fitting for a series finale, but there was no more way to know then that it was going to be the last one than it would've been after the second season, or first, whenever the series seemed in mortal danger.
To put Kirk to the test like this, though, is in hindsight clever and entirely appropriate. In the movies we would meet another defining love interest from Kirk's past, Carol Marcus. It's still weird to think that everyone Kirk knew before the Enterprise was basically an obstacle in his life. Most of the time he knew it. This time he didn't. In fact, he's the one who was the jerk.
Probably tough to see something like that explored about a character who is traditionally considered ideally heroic, and from the vantage point of someone obviously unbalanced (read: insane). But there you go.
 |
| via Fanpop |
And there the series goes!
four quarter analysis
notable guest-stars:
Majel Roddenberry
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Star Trek 3x23 "All Our Yesterdays"
rating: ****
Memory Alpha summary
In Deep Space Nine, Dax finds herself in a situation where she can't join a civilization in a remarkable transition ("Meridian"). In Voyager, Tuvok undergoes a personality change ("Riddles"). Combine these and toss in time travel, and you have the ingredients for the last classic episode of the series.
By the end, the series had begun to spin its wheels. Like the second season before it, the third season had lost much of what it had originally set out to do. Creatively, it had been on autopilot. "The Savage Curtain" was a chance to seize the kinds of opportunities the season had been exploring early on. "All Our Yesterdays" was the last time it let loose.
It's an episode that revolves squarely on the familiar three leads, Kirk, Spock and McCoy. Curiously, Kirk quickly goes on in a fairly classic, dull Kirk tangent. It's much better understood to be a Spock and McCoy episode (in the tradition of DS9's "The Ascent" or Voyager's "Rise"), an opportunity to finally put them at odds, something that seemed inevitable from the moment they first shared a scene together.
All three have visited a world about to be destroyed by its star going supernova. Its citizens have devised a brilliant solution to their dilemma: relocating to the world's past. It's a concept the episode exploits well, although curiously, where Kirk's elements otherwise squander it with typical trivial danger, these scenes still make clear that integration and memory were very much on the survivors' minds and as such are still worthwhile to the whole experience.
Still, it's Spock behaving atypically that proves the best incentive to watch this one.
Unlike the random romance of "The Cloud Minders," there's great care to explain everything that happens to Spock in "Yesterdays," its relevance to the character, and significance. That alone makes the episode special, but it's overall a great concept executed dynamically, exactly what you expect from Star Trek at its best. With time travel such an important motif of the franchise, to stand out any one such story has to do something unique. "Yesterdays" certainly does that. It's an episode that could easily be revisited as a movie, even. Just saying.
In Deep Space Nine, Dax finds herself in a situation where she can't join a civilization in a remarkable transition ("Meridian"). In Voyager, Tuvok undergoes a personality change ("Riddles"). Combine these and toss in time travel, and you have the ingredients for the last classic episode of the series.
By the end, the series had begun to spin its wheels. Like the second season before it, the third season had lost much of what it had originally set out to do. Creatively, it had been on autopilot. "The Savage Curtain" was a chance to seize the kinds of opportunities the season had been exploring early on. "All Our Yesterdays" was the last time it let loose.
It's an episode that revolves squarely on the familiar three leads, Kirk, Spock and McCoy. Curiously, Kirk quickly goes on in a fairly classic, dull Kirk tangent. It's much better understood to be a Spock and McCoy episode (in the tradition of DS9's "The Ascent" or Voyager's "Rise"), an opportunity to finally put them at odds, something that seemed inevitable from the moment they first shared a scene together.
All three have visited a world about to be destroyed by its star going supernova. Its citizens have devised a brilliant solution to their dilemma: relocating to the world's past. It's a concept the episode exploits well, although curiously, where Kirk's elements otherwise squander it with typical trivial danger, these scenes still make clear that integration and memory were very much on the survivors' minds and as such are still worthwhile to the whole experience.
Still, it's Spock behaving atypically that proves the best incentive to watch this one.
 |
| via Star Trek |
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Star Trek 3x22 "The Savage Curtain"
rating: ***
Memory Alpha summary
In one of the final episodes of the series, a couple of Star Trek icons debut. That's about as much as you need to know about "The Savage Curtain."
Both of them are historical figures, Surak of Vulcan and Kahless the Unforgettable (a Klingon). A third, Colonel Green, is less significant but also important.
Historical figures, history lesson: Surak was the founder of Vulcan logic. His legacy is later explored in the Enterprise episodes "The Forge," "Awakening," and "Kir'Shara." Kahless was likewise the founder of the Klingon code of honor. His clone appears in the Next Generation episode "Rightful Heir," while Deep Space Nine features the rediscovery of "The Sword of Kahless." Green is from Earth's past, a figure from the WWIII era prior to First Contact, who also serves as the inspiration for xenophobic madman John Frederick Paxton in the Enterprise episodes "Demons" and "Terra Prime."
All of which makes "Savage Curtain" itself historic.
Curiously, all of the reasons to recommend the episode don't necessarily reflect on the series itself. (When I say that, it may indicate that at base, it may just not be that awesome an episode. Even when there are very good reasons to watch one, there may be some others that mean you have to have a good excuse to care.) At the start of the story, it's basically an Abraham Lincoln episode, which means the series has reverted back to the second season trend of basically trying to do every general story type available at the time. Lincoln has an enduring cultural appeal. That's basically all he's here to do, blatantly. If it had just been Lincoln, "Savage Curtain" might end up representing everything you've always believed about the third season (assuming you had any preconceptions). There's nothing wrong with Lincoln, using Lincoln, or trying to make a point with Lincoln, but that smacks of egregious gimmickry in a series that sometimes smacked very badly of such offenses.
So it's good to have Surak. Outside of Spock's dad Sarek, he counts as only the third notable Vulcan in the whole series. Any episode (that's another reason why "Amok Time" has always endured in the minds of fans) that spends time with another Vulcan will always have to be considered notable. Even though Kahless ultimately emerges as a better character to explore, once the franchise takes a more nuanced view of Klingons in general (though the characteristic lighthearted approach of the original series will always be something worth revisiting), it's Surak who's the winner in their mutual debut. It's basically a Surak episode disguised as a Lincoln episode disguised in what basically seems like a fairly throwaway episode. Series fatigue. But unknowingly at the time, a very fruitful case of it.
The other notable thing about the episode is that the aliens who create this somewhat nonsensical situation are rock creatures. William Shatner later wanted rock creatures in Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (didn't get them, obviously). Galaxy Quest featured rock creatures. Clearly a compelling idea. The rock creatures' idea in the episode is to test humanity's sense of good and evil. Q tested humanity throughout Next Generation (at least in the first and last episodes, and everyone's patience, including the casts of DS9 and Voyager). Anyway, another link if you want. More if you want to look. That sort of thing.
In one of the final episodes of the series, a couple of Star Trek icons debut. That's about as much as you need to know about "The Savage Curtain."
Both of them are historical figures, Surak of Vulcan and Kahless the Unforgettable (a Klingon). A third, Colonel Green, is less significant but also important.
Historical figures, history lesson: Surak was the founder of Vulcan logic. His legacy is later explored in the Enterprise episodes "The Forge," "Awakening," and "Kir'Shara." Kahless was likewise the founder of the Klingon code of honor. His clone appears in the Next Generation episode "Rightful Heir," while Deep Space Nine features the rediscovery of "The Sword of Kahless." Green is from Earth's past, a figure from the WWIII era prior to First Contact, who also serves as the inspiration for xenophobic madman John Frederick Paxton in the Enterprise episodes "Demons" and "Terra Prime."
All of which makes "Savage Curtain" itself historic.
Curiously, all of the reasons to recommend the episode don't necessarily reflect on the series itself. (When I say that, it may indicate that at base, it may just not be that awesome an episode. Even when there are very good reasons to watch one, there may be some others that mean you have to have a good excuse to care.) At the start of the story, it's basically an Abraham Lincoln episode, which means the series has reverted back to the second season trend of basically trying to do every general story type available at the time. Lincoln has an enduring cultural appeal. That's basically all he's here to do, blatantly. If it had just been Lincoln, "Savage Curtain" might end up representing everything you've always believed about the third season (assuming you had any preconceptions). There's nothing wrong with Lincoln, using Lincoln, or trying to make a point with Lincoln, but that smacks of egregious gimmickry in a series that sometimes smacked very badly of such offenses.
So it's good to have Surak. Outside of Spock's dad Sarek, he counts as only the third notable Vulcan in the whole series. Any episode (that's another reason why "Amok Time" has always endured in the minds of fans) that spends time with another Vulcan will always have to be considered notable. Even though Kahless ultimately emerges as a better character to explore, once the franchise takes a more nuanced view of Klingons in general (though the characteristic lighthearted approach of the original series will always be something worth revisiting), it's Surak who's the winner in their mutual debut. It's basically a Surak episode disguised as a Lincoln episode disguised in what basically seems like a fairly throwaway episode. Series fatigue. But unknowingly at the time, a very fruitful case of it.
 |
| via Star Trek |
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
Monday, October 13, 2014
Star Trek 3x21 "The Cloud Minders"
rating: *
Memory Alpha summary
"The Cloud Minders" is another of the episodes that saw the series tackle the racial issues of the day, although this time it might also be considered a general social commentary of a stratified culture. In its study of class inequality, "Minders" might be considered comparable to the later "Dear Doctor" (Enterprise), which generally is a better version of the story.
It deals with terrorism (certainly a considerable portion of the Deep Space Nine legacy), too. And it has Kirk as well as Spock involved in romances. It's Spock who bags the major beauty, Kirk who's interested in the one who represents the crux of the problem. But Spock's wears considerably less.
Next Generation and of course the series itself dealt with worlds deluded into believing themselves utopias ("The Masterpiece Society," "Plato's Stepchildren"). "Minders" features a cloud city about a decade before The Empire Strikes Back. Less carbon freezing, about the same amount of torture.
"The Cloud Minders" is another of the episodes that saw the series tackle the racial issues of the day, although this time it might also be considered a general social commentary of a stratified culture. In its study of class inequality, "Minders" might be considered comparable to the later "Dear Doctor" (Enterprise), which generally is a better version of the story.
It deals with terrorism (certainly a considerable portion of the Deep Space Nine legacy), too. And it has Kirk as well as Spock involved in romances. It's Spock who bags the major beauty, Kirk who's interested in the one who represents the crux of the problem. But Spock's wears considerably less.
 |
| via Trek Core |
Admirable for what it wants to say, but it's the series kind of spinning its wheels at this point. Kirk and Spock both taking arrows from Cupid is a little on the nose, clearly pandering to the fans and less the demands of the story. Spock being fascinated by physical beauty is pretty out of character.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Fred Williamson
Monday, October 6, 2014
Star Trek 3x20 "The Way to Eden"
rating: ***
Memory Alpha summary
Most often contended to be the "hippie episode" (although the earlier "This Side of Paradise" more accurately represents that description; perhaps the benefit of hindsight holds the difference, where one depicts how they're remembered now while the other how they considered themselves at the time), "The Way to Eden" is something of the Charles Manson story in space.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier later paralleled much of the same story, while Deep Space Nine explored the back-to-nature idea in "Paradise," and there's Star Trek: Insurrection to consider as well, plus similarities to "Fusion" (the start of a whole character arc) in Enterprise. That adds up to something of a considerable legacy for the episode.
It's also a Chekov episode, continuing the third season trend of coming up with stories for the supporting cast a little more frequently. It's his lady friend (in the original version it was actually McCoy's daughter, and the other half of the equation was Kirk...which would certainly have made things far more interesting...!) who's caught up in the would-be Manson's plot to rediscover Eden (in this case, the title of the episode is actually pretty straightforward for a change). Eventually Chekov's spotlight gives way to Spock, and has the benefit of giving new insights into both characters, contrasting with what we previously thought we knew.
All that adds up to plenty going on in the episode. "Way to Eden" is one of those episodes that's probably better now then it seemed at the time.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series *essential * character
notable guest-stars
Majel Roddenberry
Charles Napier
Most often contended to be the "hippie episode" (although the earlier "This Side of Paradise" more accurately represents that description; perhaps the benefit of hindsight holds the difference, where one depicts how they're remembered now while the other how they considered themselves at the time), "The Way to Eden" is something of the Charles Manson story in space.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier later paralleled much of the same story, while Deep Space Nine explored the back-to-nature idea in "Paradise," and there's Star Trek: Insurrection to consider as well, plus similarities to "Fusion" (the start of a whole character arc) in Enterprise. That adds up to something of a considerable legacy for the episode.
 |
| via Pinterest |
All that adds up to plenty going on in the episode. "Way to Eden" is one of those episodes that's probably better now then it seemed at the time.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series *
notable guest-stars
Majel Roddenberry
Charles Napier
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Star Trek 3x19 "Requiem for Methuselah"
rating: ****
Memory Alpha summary
"Requiem for Methuselah" is a classic, but it's a different kind of classic. It tackles some of the essential questions of the series and reflects on later elements of the franchise as well, but in ways that may still be surprising.
Whether "What Are Little Girls Made Of?" or Harry Mudd is your fancy, artificial life was a running theme of the series well before Data in Next Generation or The Doctor in Voyager. The android in 'Methuselah" isn't necessarily the central figure (that would be long-lived Flint), but is at least another familiar type: a love interest for Kirk.
And perhaps this is the rival "City on the Edge of Forever" always needed. In "City," Kirk has to watch a love interest die. In "Methuselah," the love interest literally falls apart rather than choose between Kirk and the life she's previously known with Flint. Kirk falls hard for her, and at the end of the episode, Spock performs a kind of miracle for him, erasing his memory of the whole incident (a rare, organic reset button), an act of mercy that adds yet another layer of significance to the proceedings.
The title itself is iconic, one of the most poetically evocative of the whole series (a running theme that is one of its many distinctive features). Methuselah is a biblical figure, mostly significant for being long-lived, so it's a clear enough metaphor. Chances are if you can't immediately identify the episode's contents with its title, you remember a title like that anyway.
"Requiem for Methuselah" is a classic, but it's a different kind of classic. It tackles some of the essential questions of the series and reflects on later elements of the franchise as well, but in ways that may still be surprising.
Whether "What Are Little Girls Made Of?" or Harry Mudd is your fancy, artificial life was a running theme of the series well before Data in Next Generation or The Doctor in Voyager. The android in 'Methuselah" isn't necessarily the central figure (that would be long-lived Flint), but is at least another familiar type: a love interest for Kirk.
And perhaps this is the rival "City on the Edge of Forever" always needed. In "City," Kirk has to watch a love interest die. In "Methuselah," the love interest literally falls apart rather than choose between Kirk and the life she's previously known with Flint. Kirk falls hard for her, and at the end of the episode, Spock performs a kind of miracle for him, erasing his memory of the whole incident (a rare, organic reset button), an act of mercy that adds yet another layer of significance to the proceedings.
 |
| via Fanpop |
Yet the episode itself is an instance of the third season betraying its reputation for mediocrity, for failing to leave a good enough impression for the final run of the series. It's perhaps one of the best examples of the season being a reward for the fans, certainly for that closing scene with Spock, and for closure on a theme the show had attempted to explore multiple times already. And when you know the franchise would later finally tap this theme with main characters, "Methuselah" ends up becoming a preview (Voyager's excellent "Latent Image") of greater things still to come.
In a lot of ways, you can overlook the episode's significance all too easily because so much of it seems like so much you've seen before. But not like this. It's an experience of subtle pleasures and resonance. And none the less for it. It's a moment that catches everything the series tried to be all along, a profound examination of the human condition, and manages to do so with the fine touch seldom previously managed.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Star Trek 3x18 "The Lights of Zetar"
rating: **
Memory Alpha summary
There are twelve-hundred million episodes throughout the franchise featuring aliens attempting to take over the bodies of the regular crew. This is an early one. In that regard, it's so completely average that you hardly have to watch this one in particular to know and/or care about the proceedings. However, it's a precedent, part of a Star Trek trope, whatever way of saying it that makes you think it's worth watching in some way, at least in that regard.
It's also a Scotty episode.
I know, even though it technically happens several times throughout the series, it's basically a surprise every time. Scotty was always the fourth lead of the series, after Kirk, Spock and McCoy, memorable for any number of reasons, whether his reputation as a "miracle worker" or that distinctive accent or general rank of importance among the crew. Still, the fourth lead was about as thankless a positioning as the three below him (Uhura, Chekov, Sulu) in most respects. Scotty episodes, not considering how rare they were, just weren't to par with the ones featuring those above him.
There are twelve-hundred million episodes throughout the franchise featuring aliens attempting to take over the bodies of the regular crew. This is an early one. In that regard, it's so completely average that you hardly have to watch this one in particular to know and/or care about the proceedings. However, it's a precedent, part of a Star Trek trope, whatever way of saying it that makes you think it's worth watching in some way, at least in that regard.
It's also a Scotty episode.
 |
| via Daily Drew |
But this one's a romance. Unlike "Wolf in the Fold," this is a good thing for the chief engineer. It's about as shocking to have a romance feature someone other than Kirk as it is to discover you're watching a Scotty episode, so for combining the two, it should be considered a landmark of some kind.
The last and perhaps most significant contribution of "Zetar" (the title evokes classic science fiction if not Star Trek in general, one of those titles that leaves no real impression of the story it represents) is the debut of Memory Alpha, the Federation library that was subsequently adopted by the fans, as you may have noticed a time or two.
In that regard, you wish, once again, that the series were less pedantic in the types of stories it was willing to do, not merely yet another harrowing alien encounter, but a simple Starfleet visit to the library. Sounds crazy, I guess, but even adding in Scotty's romance, that could've sufficed, couldn't it?
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Majel Roddenberry
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Star Trek 3x17 "That Which Survives"
rating: **
Memory Alpha summary
So, "That Which Survives" is later echoed in "Arsenal of Freedom" (Next Generation), "Civil Defense" (Deep Space Nine), "Prototype" (Voyager). It's basically an episode about a defense mechanism that outlasts both its civilization and its need.
Because it's this series, it takes the form of a hot chick, naturally.
But perhaps more interestingly, a lot of other standard elements take different shape in the episode. For a change, when characters and/or ships go missing, that's not even the end of the crisis. Which leads to this being a kind of Scotty episode, as he works feverishly to get the Enterprise back under control. If all you care about Scotty is how awesome an engineer he is (and let's face it, in the series itself, what else is there?), this may be the ultimate episode for you.
So, "That Which Survives" is later echoed in "Arsenal of Freedom" (Next Generation), "Civil Defense" (Deep Space Nine), "Prototype" (Voyager). It's basically an episode about a defense mechanism that outlasts both its civilization and its need.
Because it's this series, it takes the form of a hot chick, naturally.
 |
| via Let's Watch Star Trek. Many redshirts were killed to bring us this information. |
And to a certain point, it even seems as if it's a Sulu episode, too. (How often does that happen? How about...never?) He's part of the landing party, and when it seems the Enterprise has been lost he begins offering suggestions. Sure, Kirk dismisses them. But Sulu's making them. It's another small step toward that captaincy waiting in his distant future. It's him being almost taken seriously! And then later, the hot chick seems like she's choosing him rather than Kirk! That definitely never happens! Weird circumstances, sure, but that's one of the story beats. So if you're a fan of Sulu, this an episode to catch in that regard as well.
Wonders never cease, right? And, and that title? It's Kirk's summation of the whole experience. Naturally. Beauty survives. All he'll remember is the hot chick.
four quarter analysis
franchise * series * essential * character
notable guest-stars:
Lee Merriwether
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
