Red (2010)

Written at the time of the film's release.

"Better Dead Than Red"
or
"Who Wouldn't Want to See Helen Mirren with a Sniper Rifle?"*

Cute.**

That's the word for Red. Not good. Not bad. Just "cute." I mean, what's not to like? A movie top-heavy with talent in front of the lens—in fact, there are so many Emmy/Oscar-winning actors (including Ernest Borgnine and Richard Dreyfuss buried in the credits) that one wonders why there wasn't a better project for them to do than this. Yes, it's entertaining (if you turn the brain off). Sure, it's occasionally funny—it's especially nice to see Bruce Willis back in his lighter mode, reminding one of how damned good he was in his "Moonlighting" days, and John Malkovich taking full advantage of his "crazy coot" part without pretensions of doing anything serious. And it's nice to see a full cast of "mature" actors in a movie based on a comic book series, so that the potential audience demographic is as wide as Morgan Freeman's smile. For a reviewer of my advanced age (55), it is a little disconcerting to see these storied thesp's I've grown up watching (often from their first filmed roles) being sold as "old farts in the pasture,"*** despite how easily they deal with their younger counterparts, like fine actors Karl Urban and Mamet collaborator Rebecca Pidgeon, though it's presented in a somewhat condescending manner.

The main problem I have with the movie is that (timing aside), it's just another in the series of "Dirty Dozen" discarded mercenary movies we've seen so many of this year, and it's an uninspired entry, at that. Oh, sure, it's tricked up with animated post-card location bridges (that get tedious), a coy break-away editing style, and a pyrotechnic fetish that mushrooms every explosion into a lens-searing extravaganza, and the occasional "see-this-I-wonder-how-they-got-this" shot that is, basically, the director trying to draw attention from his actors ("I'm helping!!"). Wish he'd paid a bit more attention to what was going on in the script, rather than in how to present it.

There's a little too much reliance on exposition that telegraphs what will happen in the movie (and it doesn't help that the actors tend to "wink" the importance of those lines at times). And if there's a script problem, the director just figures out a way that he can draw attention away from it, rather than make it better.

Take, for example, an early shot of a line of gun-men—a nice, easily raked-over straight line of gun-men (wouldn't even need to go through a whole clip!)—advancing on a house that Willis' character Frank Moses lives in a quiet suburban neighborhood.  It looks impressive, until you realize how damn dumb it is. These jack-booted thugs (and in a NRA wish-fulfillment, they are government ops) advance on the house, not breaking formation, swiss-cheesing the house back to its foundation in the dead of night. Wow! Cool! One could make a case for "stylized comic action," if it wasn't so stupid-looking at first glance.

But, remember, I said "quiet suburban neighborhood?" You actually, earlier, do see neighbors. So, where is everybody? No one comes outside, the sequence goes on for many minutes, without a dog barking, a siren in the background, someone clappering-on the lights, or an actual NRA member shouting protest. That's just dumb. And it's the first of many "fish-bowl" sequences where things happen in only a world where this movie exists, as it has nothing to do with how "the real world" works—despite playing on the populace's paranoid delusions about "how the real world works." One wishes that one could forgive the contrivances, but you can't, as the movie hinges on them. And as sure as a bullet wound that was excruciating a few minutes ago, will be forgotten in the next few minutes, the director will find a way to wave something shiny at the camera (right before it explodes) to make you forget. I don't mind having my disbelief suspended, so long as someone isn't constantly cutting the cable to sabotage it.

Director Schwentke (The Time Traveler's Wife) is more interested in the kill-shot (with minimal blood-loss) than story-logic. But, lest one think I'm unappreciative, there is a neat shot, however it was done, of Willis stepping outside his skidding car firing his gun as the vehicle cantilevers around him.  Nice.

That's fun and all...even cute...but, I tend to like my spy stories to have a little more substance than cotton-candy to it, a bit more fiber, something at risk, so that when folks do go in harm's way, they do so because it is necessary to do so and the personal risk matters. So that they matter. Or else, what's the point of all the point-and-shoot? I'm not interested in watching a bunch of good actors having fun picking up a paycheck.

Still, want to know the coolest thing about Red? Seeing Helen Mirren firing an automatic weapon without so much as a flinch or an eye-blink, deliberately keeping those flinty eyes wide open, while the burly male extras playing the disposable agents firing back are fluttering their eye-lids right and left. Now, that's a Dame.****

* A quote from "Red" comic series writer Warren Ellis.

** Tommy Lee Jones revealed this (with a sneer) to be his least favorite word on "Inside the Actor's Studio." Yup.

*** The title refers to the group's designation as "Retired: Extremely Dangerous."

**** There was a sequel, that eliminated Urban and added Lee Byung-Hun and Academy Award winners Anthony Hopkins and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Haven't seen it and haven't because life is short.

Thor: Ragnarok

Goblins and Garden Parties
or
"Darling, You Have No Idea What is Possible"

The first couple of "Thor" films were extraordinarily dull things. It might have been because the first was directed by Kenneth Branagh, who wanted to make a Shakespearean myth rather than a comic book movie and art-designed the thing to a fair-thee-well and treated it SO seriously, that it wasn't until Joss Whedon's The Avengers that Chris Hemsworth's version of the character could display some personality besides being ontuse at the top of his lungs. Alan Taylor's Thor: The Dark World I can barely remember except for a lot of things going *thud* at the end—one of them being my patience.

The Avengers showed that the God of Thunder could be more than just a guy with a hammer, increasing both the possibilities and the personalities of Thor and his half-brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston). The whole Odin story-line could be dispensed with, but the fact that Thor was the only one of Marvel's heroes being utilized who was world and dimension-spanning gave the MCU some scope (even if they didn't know how to use it just yet) and set the paths for Guardians of the Galaxy and Dr. Strange.

Thor: Ragnarok does a lot of things: there's a lot of cameos and guest-stars, brand new characters, and a minimum of returnees from the previous two films—Loki, Thor's father Odin (Anthony Hopkins), and Heimdall (Idris Elba); it introduces another family threat, who is primarily the focus of the story; once the film is finished, everything has changed and the elements that buttressed (and limited) the first two movies are gone and there is no "safe zone" anymore. "Significance" happens in Thor: Ragnarok, and it's a significance that can't be walked back in the next movie (of course, they could do that, but audiences would see it as a cheat and lazy film-making). And that's good; it certainly makes this "Thor" memorable...and that's a first in the trilogy.

We find Thor chained up in a prison in some cavernous expanse, suspended over a lava-bubbling landscape. How did he get there? Who cares? (although he does the requisite "Maverick" style "I suppose you're wondering..."). He is being held by the CGI beast Surtur (voiced by Clancy Brown--the other voice you hire if you can't get James Earl Jones), and it's an odd little back and forth except for the interruptions when Thor rotates at the end of his chain from looking directly at Surtur. "Oh! Wait a tick! Need to be facing you!" And they wait until Thor is in proper axis to look at Surtur while he simmers threateningly at him. That this little interruption happens is your first indication...other than the Marvel Studios logo sinking and melting into hot lava...that this one's going to be a little different; the filmmakers are not going to be hurtling pell-mell to the next ringing declaration or action set-piece. There are going to be Pythonesque "silly bits" when a situation gets a bit...absurd. Like being polite to a lava monster.

Anyway, that's the first bit. Then, Thor goes to his home in Asgard, finds out that Dad-Odin is missing and that Loki is behind it (really, there doesn't need to be much investigation), that Heimdall is not around and an Asgardian named Skurge (Karl Urban) is in his place on the Asgardian turn-stile letting people in. The guy isn't the best border-guard and would have Donald Trump tweeting out something ending in "sad." I won't spoil the details, but ultimately it's determined that Odin is exiled to Earth (Loki's fault...it's always Loki's fault), in the most demeaning of circumstances (he's treated like a human being).

Some such-and-such happens (with the help of Benedict Cumberbatch's Dr. Strange (thanks for stopping by and recycling the post-credits tag from your own movie, Doc)—and ultimately, there's a family dissemblation and a family reunion with the first child of Odin—Loki and Thor's half-sister Hela (Cate Blanchett—you may have seen Blanchett over-act before but you've never seen her relish in it, as she does here, reminding one a bit of Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard) and before you know it, she's smashed Thor's hammer, Mjolnir (rest in pieces), and managed to make her way to Asgard, while kicking Loki and Thor out of the bifrost "rainbow connection" warp-tunnel that gets you there.

Loki we find out about later, but the hammer-less Thor ends up in a garbage planet (called Sakaar) and gets captured by Valkyrie (or Scrapper 142 as she's known—played by Tessa Thompson in a breakout role), where he's set up for gladiator duties by the planet's "Grand Master" (Jeff Goldblum, reminding you of why you like Jeff Goldblum) to fight the current champion of the gladiator games. Anyone who's seen even the first trailer knows who that turns out to be, and, frankly, it's a good move on Marvel's part to play with the animosity that was displayed between the two characters in a brief scene in The Avengers that lasted all of five seconds. To repeat: 

There is much brief rejoicing, not only on Thor's part, but also the audience's. This isn't the "stuffy mythology" Thor that has been displayed in his own solo movies; this is the potential that could be done with Thor if anybody in the first two movies wasn't so afraid of failure at the box-office. The breath of fresh air comes from New Zealand director Taika Waititi, who helmed What We Do in the Shadows and last year's bright, shining Hunt for the Wilderpeople. Waititi has a kiwi sensibility ("yeess"), but his film language is strong and he has a wonderful way with presenting the logically absurd into his work. If he wasn't doing Thor, he'd be doing wondrous things with Marvel properties like Ant-Man and Guardians of the Galaxy—and they could certainly have used him in the Dr. Strange feature if his expansion of the End Credits "tag" of that film is any indication.

Waititi embraces the odd and that's a far cry from what other film-makers do with the four-color world of super-heroes, usually tamping down the comic nature of the things and replacing it with leather costumes and sturm-and-drang. But, when you're dealing with in-fighting Norse gods and ADHD-CGI Hulk's, it might be best to keep your sense of humor, especially once these characters have gotten over the "tragedy" of being displaced and "gifted." Waititi also has a nice visceral sense—subtlety is not his strength—and he's happy letting super-heroes be super-heroes in extremis. So, a completely gladiator battle between Thor and Hulk goes into giddy excess, even repeating a couple of Avengers jokes for good measure.

It's fun. A lot of fun. But, Waititi CAN get carried away with the in-jokes—for instance, an Easter-Egg for Marvel junkies has the Gladiator arena exterior* decorated with the busts of past champions, including Beta-Ray Bill (who took over the "Thor" title for awhile) and Man-Thing (what the hell?). In another instance, Thor is being wheeled into the Grandmaster's tournament hall, he is given an audio tour of the place, all accompanied by "Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It got a laugh out of me, but...really? Willy Wonka wasn't a success when it was released here...it made it out to Sakaar?

It pads things out a bit—ultimately, the whole idea comes down to getting the Hela out of Asgard and finding a way to get there to do that (they find a way as Sakaar, being a dumping ground for the universe has all sorts of portals through which refuse falls through—and the portal to get them back is called "The Devil's Anus"...really). And, ultimately, Thor finds out that in order to accomplish what he must, embracing the worst thing that could happen might not be a bad thing. Change happens, and the shorn, hammerless Thor must learn that power comes from within...literally.

Odd. Frequently silly. But, ultimately, Thor: Ragnarok is the best film of the trilogy for its own ability to see what hasn't worked in the previous films and embrace its own change. That it causes some destruction of its own history along the way is all for the good.

*

Pete's Dragon (2016)

"The Bravest Boy I've Ever Met"
or
Ain't Them Dragons Saints?

The latest live-action remake of a past Disney film, Pete's Dragon, does not draw inspiration from the original (made during that period after Walt's death when the studio lost its way and produced "product" rather than innovation), but basically ignores it and starts from scratch, tossing out the songs, the period setting, and hammy performances from stalwart movie veterans to deliver something that hues closer to the main focus of the story, which is "a boy and his dragon."

The result is a far more satisfying film, not so much concerned with eccentrics, than with some core-values, which, although it may not have the slapstick elements of the original or all the schmaltz, still seems much more fitting the bill of "family-friendly" no matter how much mugging Jim Dale and Red Buttons could provide to amuse five year old's.

The film starts with young Pete contentedly sitting in the back seat of a station wagon driving a back-country road, while his mother and father talk about how they're "going on an adventure." They don't know the half of it. To avoid hitting a deer, Dad swerves the car off the road, flipping it and leaving Pete an orphan and alone in some pretty spooky woods that have their fair share of very carnivorous wolves. This is such a "Bambi" moment (and the director stages it with something like that film's strategy) that some kids might be traumatized by it. They won't be traumatized for long, though. No sooner do the wolves start baring their canines, do the trees begin to move and sway like nature's out of joint.

There emerges a very large, furry, winged creature who sniffs out the little kid and, having satisfied itself there is no threat, extends one paw, into which the child climbs. The creature then heaves into the air, flying undetected through the misty sky. Pete calls the creature "Elliott" (after the puppy in the book he carried with him from the wreckage of the car accident) and the two begin their "adventure" together.

Time, like a dragon, flies by. It is six years later, and Pete and Elliott seemingly have the forest (called "Millhaven") to themselves. Pete (now played by the rather stoic little Oakes Fegley) has become quite the little Mowgli, running through the trees, scampering over fallen limbs, fashioning a makeshift tree-house for himself (when he's not hanging out in the dragon's cave) with the snaggle-toothed "Elliott" keeping pace like a protective, obedient pet. Not only can "Elliott" fly, but it also has the ability to camouflage itself, blending in with its surroundings, making it virtually invisible. This becomes handy when eluding detection or for startling any bears that might see Pete as a potential meal...or a threat. No one disturbs them and no one encroaches. They're "Calvin and Hobbes" with no parental controls or supervision. What kid wouldn't love that?

But, that's a fairy tale. The town of Millhaven has stories and songs about the Millhaven dragon and one of its citizens, a retired woodcarver named Meacham (Robert Redford) claims to have actually seen the dragon back in his younger days, which he is only too pleased to regale to young kids who hang on his every word, to the amusement of his ranger daughter Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard) who treats the story like the too-often-told tales on Thanksgiving, with a resigned smile and the faintest of eye-rolls. For Meacham the experience was an example of "magic" made real. For Grace, it's an old man telling stories. As she says she "knows the woods like the back of my hand" and has seen no evidence. She's too busy monitoring the encroaching of man to be noticing 50 foot myths.

Grace may have commitment issues. She's engaged to Jack (Wes Bentley) who, with his brother Gavin (Karl Urban), runs the local saw-mill. While Jack does the books, Gavin does the "harvest," which is going deeper and deeper into protected areas of Millhaven and for which Grace does a certain amount of what is often termed "environmental terrorism" (she grabs the keys from a CAT and tosses them and paints over spray-painted "tagging" marks) to impede his progress (Really? She's going to marry into this family?). She is noticed by Pete and "Elliott" and the boy manages to grab a compass she drops during her walk. 

The boy is curious about the fellow humans, especially when he sees Jack's daughter Natalie (Oona Laurence). It sets up a series of encounters between the disparate parties that will expose "Elliott" to the "outside" world and separate the two and their bond. Plus, once Gavin gets wind of the dragon, he is determined to capture it for his own gain. What was once idyllic will be destroyed, never to be regained, and it will take sacrifice—a lot of it—if any semblance of "right" can be brought back to the world.  

What's great about Pete's Dragon is that it was conceived and directed by David Lowery, the independent film-maker who, a few years earlier, made the very good Ain't Them Bodies Saints, which took the simple story of crime and sacrifice and turned it into an elegaic film where images are most important and where the dialogue is circumspect and actually avoiding spelling things out, lest the hopes and secrets of the characters might be exposed and their lives...and dreams...destroyed. At the time, I wondered what other glories Lowery could be capable of. I never expected it to be a Disney film, Or a damned good one.

Pete's Dragon is not so guarded, whether in story or dialogue, and the characters are much more direct—none of them are doing anything illegal or dangerous, and at the most are just bending some rules to get by. They wear their hearts on their sleeves and their actions follow their desires, whether they're good, bad, selfish, or caring, and even the worst of them is not so shallow that they can't change their heart. It is a film of heart...and soul. And Lowery is enough of a dramatist...and a realist...that he isn't afraid to make things very bad for the characters (after all, he killed the kid's parents in the first five minutes). A good dramatist risks much, even the loyalty and comfort of the audience, in order to engage them, rather than placating. The rewards for such a strategy are great. And Pete's Dragon earns those.

The dragon's amazing, created by New Zealand's WETA with an air towards creating something oddly ungainly while plush, with the playfulness of a puppy but the eyes of an old soul. It is quite the imaginary friend, and one feels as much for the dragon as for the kid, as the two are separated from what is essentially a good thing in order to integrate them into what society considers normal. Just as the loggers are making little encroachments into the woods, reality makes its own in-roads into fantasy and the way Lowery plays it, it feels like a horrible incursion, like something precious is about to be forever lost, never to be regained, and, like the path to Hell, always asphalted over with good intentions.

But, don't tell the kids that. This is one that will keep them from being fidgety or wondering why they had to go someplace to see it, rather than just watch it on TV, and it isn't so insufferable to cause adults to check their I-watches and looking longingly for the "Exit" signs. It's a good, solid surprising "family" film that extols the virtues of family, even while it's questioning that it always has to be the best thing. Like dragons, this movie is something odd and rare and unexpected, especially given the source of Disney, who can do cinematic things that take you aback with how good they can be.

They can even spin gold from the threads of their less-accomplished films, answering the question of "why don't they remake the bad films, rather than merely try to recreate the glories of the good ones (and failing)?" Here, "they" do exactly that and make something wonderful out of it. Something that actually brought well-earned tears to my eyes.

The "original" Pete's Dragon—don't even go there.

Star Trek Beyond

This is Where the Frontier Pushes Back
or
"Let's Hope This Doesn't Get Messy"

Simon Pegg's character Tim Bisely in "Spaced" once stated: "... as sure as day follows night, sure as eggs is eggs, sure as every odd-numbered Star Trek is shit."

Irony time. Star Trek Beyond is an odd-numbered "Star Trek" film...and he wrote it (along with Doug Jung).

Of course, J.J. Abrams busted that track record with the odd-(un-)numbered Star Trek reboot (2009), recast the entire original crew and managed to survive the potential solar shit-storm from some of the most vocal of pop-culture's fan-maniacs. The reason was that movie did everything differently while still reminding you of what was so damn good about the original series. There was a bit of a let-down with the second (at least for me) because the first one warped Star Trek-space so ingeniously that one was expecting something more than mere future history-re-writing, by cribbing the plots of two of the original cast's movies so soon into this new, re-booted series.

Which is why it's so damn funny when Captain James T. Kirk (Chris Pine), 966 days into the Enterprise's five year mission, and after a diplomatic first contact that does not go very well, saws into his Captain's Log that things are beginning "to feel...episodic." Even exploring new worlds gets to be a drag (ask Lewis and Clark) and the crew is definitely feeling the lethargy. A stop back to Earth's new orbiting city in space, Yorktown (nobody's thought of this before? Just the field-offices in space?) and the crew can't wait to get away from each other—even the Enterprise's "power-coupling" is fraying: Uhura (Zoe Saldana) is wanting to break up with Spock (Zachary Quinto). Kirk is being pulled other directions, so is his Science Officer. 

It's almost Kirk's birthday and over a drink he and Dr. McCoy (Karl Urban) hash out Kirk's issues—he's lived longer than his Dad (who died on his birthday) and Kirk's motivations were not the same as his. Now, the job just isn't fun anymore. It's routine and Kirk is thinking of applying for a Vice-Admiralty position with Starfleet (Lord knows he has enough vices to qualify for the job).

But, a distress signal from an uncharted nebula pulls him back into the chair—he and the crew warp out together, maybe for the last time for a rescue mission. They're given coordinates by a returning Starfleet officer Kalara (Lydia Wilson) and find the nebula is not that tough a commute—sure, it's blocking signals from Starfleet, but...hey, what's that on the view-screen? And before Star Wars' Admiral Ackbar can make a cameo saying "it's a trap!" they're being bombarded by so many projectiles, they don't have the weaponry capable of taking out everything and they get boarded, the warp-nacelles of the Enterprise cut off from the ship (no one has thought of this before?) and the ship goes powerless. Time for Scotty (Pegg) to do a little re-routing to the impulse engines and the ship is underway, albeit slowly, with the crew together, but being picked off one by one.

Then, things really go down. In the same type of swarm attack that took out the nacelles, the ship starts to get eviscerated to knock out all power to the ship. Kirk orders the crew to evacuate and their capsules start jettisoning into space. But, they're soon hi-jacked and taken to a planet in the nearby system. With the Enterprise crippled and heading to the planet's surface, Kirk has no choice but to abandon ship and take his chances on the planet.

With no ship, the crew scattered, the mission becomes one of survival and making do the best they can. It's a great way to find out out just what your crew-mates mean to you and cure that contempt that too much familiarity breeds.

The film-makers do shake things up a bit and despite throwing in as much action as they can possibly muster, they manage to give to this Star Trek what has been skimped on a bit in the past films—interaction. What works in the Star Trek movies is what worked on the television show, which is the characters and Pegg, Jung and director Justin Lin take pains to pair off the crew-members unusually—Kirk with Chekhov, Spock with McCoy (well, naturally), Uhura with Sulu and Scott with a denizen of the planet named Jaylah (Sofia Boutella, who played the lethal kick-master Gazelle in Kingsmen) that manages to play to everybody's strengths.

One is drawn in because it's a situation that one has seen before on the original series, but never like this, and one's attention is focused because you're not exactly sure what will happen next—something Into Darkness, retreading tried and true territory, never accomplished. The story seems fresh and full of surprises, except that sometimes things are a bit too convenient in resolution, but that may be that things are withheld in back-story that might be telling.

One gets the feeling that quite a bit has been chopped out of Star Trek Beyond, as some transitions are rough, at times confusing, and for a scrupulous refusal to not go into too much detail about the film's chief villain Krall (Idris Elba). It's a bit refreshing, that, actually, because ultimately who cares what the guy's backstory is—his motivations are a bit confused and his actions way too extreme to make any sense whatsoever. Basically, who cares? He's a bad guy. Stop him. The same goes for the McGuffin in the movie. Everybody says it's dangerous, but not too willing to explain how. Without that, you're not sure what the rules are or what the stakes might be, and that undercuts the suspense factor somewhat. But suspense is not what the director is after. What he wants is visceral.

Director Lin is an action-movie guy and he does a lot of story-length swoops and camera tilts to keep you disoriented through those sequences...too much so, actually. He's less concerned with the build-up to something as long as he gets the "money-shot" in. That grows tiresome after awhile, and the final action furor seems like one too many (and relies on what you think the gravity issues on a globe-shaped city in space would be like). A space-battle would be just as familiar, I guess, and maybe Pine thought he was robbed of a big climax last movie (Spock had to do all the running and punching), but with all the hand-to-hand combat, one wonders what they have phasers for.

Still, bumps in the warp-drive not withstanding, Star Trek Beyond is a good use of material and a reminder of why the thing has lasted 50 years...almost. It premiered in September, 1966. 

And they keep making ships.

Bob Peak's poster for the original Star Trek: the Motion Picture

next to "The Director's Edition" which featured the original key photographs.

Star Trek Into Darkness

It's Ongoing Mission:
To Explore Strange New Worlds, 
To Seek Out New Life and New Civilizations, 
And to Shamelessly Retread Where the Old Series Has Already Gone Before.
(Oh, and Lens Flares.  Lots of Lens Flares)

I'm disappointed.

The first Star Trek (Beta Two) did a great job of re-imagining the '60's sci-fi mythos of a 23rd century, and dragging it, shouting and flaring and shaking the camera, into the 21st Century. It shook the faithful, too, reinforced what was great about the series (the characters, frankly) and what wasn't (a little too Hornblower and "Wagon Train to the Stars," too-vintage TV concepts, and the Enterprise corridors always seemed like a circular Ramada Inn). 

The 2009 Star Trek of J.J. Abrams was a game-changer. It completely exploded (and sometimes imploded) the Star Trek Universe that was starting to harden (the way it did with the Star Wars Universe) with continuity. That's the way it goes with science fiction series: everything that seemed fresh in the first go-'round, becomes rote and repeatable and formulaic, given a timeline and a structure, and the creativity becomes more about stretching the budget as opposed to stretching the possibilities, or the minds of the audience.

Star Trek Into Darkness remains true to the Roddenberry vision of over-sexualizing female crew-people.

It was ever thus, with "Star Trek." After its first season and a half, that saw scripts by some of science-fiction's best and brightest, "Star Trek" (the original series) was becoming rote, concentrating on relationships (there was a rotating "crewman-in-love" every week with the exceptions, significantly, of Sulu and Lt. Uhura) and planets that had remarkable resemblances to Earth. When the movies came along, all of them (including the "Next Generation" movies, which had strictly prohibited the habit in its TV run) settled into the "Khan" pattern of having a central antagonist, rather than dealing with a cosmic crisis or ethical problem dictated by a planet's sociological peculiarities.*

Haven't I seen this somewhere before?

But the Star Trek retro-fit changed the rules. By altering the Trek timeline, the series could literally "go" anywhere to the "strange new worlds"—or old ones—of the mission statement from the "series bible." So, for me, it's something of a lost opportunity that the first adventure out of the space-dock is a re-visit, tinkering with a too-obvious choice of what to "fix" and particularly re-writing one of the films to mixed results.

Not that Star Trek Into Darkness isn't fun—let's say that upfront—and never short of entertaining, taking full advantage of the shifted relationships of the Enterprise's new-old complement, but never straying from them that much to incorporate anyone new.  

Maybe there's a rip in the space-time continuum?

This crew is more squabbly than the one from the Shatner-Nimoy-Kelley days. Captain Kirk (Chris Pine) and Mr. Spock (Zachary Quinto) have an uneasy truce, still getting to know each other, and wondering why they should take a mutual mentor's advice that their alliance is mutually beneficial. Kirk and Scotty (Simon Pegg, still delightful) are at odds over Kirk's motivations for a trip into Klingon territory and Mr. Scott takes a leave of absence from the crew, briefly, to be replaced by Mr. Chekhov (Anton Yelchin, who is underutilized, and frankly needed the job) as Chief Engineer. And the unlikely romance between Lt. Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and Spock is going through some warp-turbulence**—seems she thinks Spock is a little too aggressive in doing his duty and passive in accepting death, a nice little argument against the events of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, which is further touched on throughout the movie.

Oh, that mission across the Klingon Neutral Zone mentioned earlier is to take out a terrorist, John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch, quite brilliant in this), who seems to be on a personal revenge campaign against Star Fleet, blowing up a London facility, and seeking asylum among the newly imagined bumpy-headed warriors on Kronos. Kirk is charged by the hawkish Admiral Marcus (Peter Weller) to find Harrison and fire some specially designed photon torpedoes at him with extreme prejudice. 

...or the writer's room is in a chronal loop...wait, is that a tribble?

To say anything more in the way of plot would be to spoil all sorts of little surprises and one big surprise in the film, which would be some sort of violation of the Movie Prime Directive. I say that with some irony as once things start being revealed, the movie doesn't go off the rails, but rather travels a little too closely on them. Oh, it has its own spin, and one that makes a shade more sense than ... Damn. I can't even say that. Let's merely say that for an alternate universe, this one sure provokes a sense of deja vu.*** For me, it seems a bit like the franchise is playing it very, very safe, which is particularly sad after its terrific (and risky) relaunch. Not a good sign, especially as Abrams is moving on (to helm the first Disney "Star Wars" film).  

We need to go a bit more boldly next time.

I said "boldly", not "quickly"

* Even Star Trek: First Contact took the brilliant conceit of a collective-mind tribe like the Borg, and created a never-before-seen "Borg Queen" as its antagonist, diluting the very neat "Borg" concept, in favor of a singular "Bad Guy," who could be defeated. Yeah, but...

** Small trekkie annoyance: Throughout the movie, she calls him "Spock." Aren't they intimate enough that she can use his first name? He has one, and the joke in the series was "You couldn't pronounce it." Okay. But she's an alien linguist.  So, if anyone could... Oh! And another thing—at one point Kirk accuses Spock of "throwing me under the bus."  How archaic a reference is that? Especially considering that seemingly everything floats in this universe. Go ahead, throw him under a bus, it's going to sail right over him! Now, if he'd said, "throw me into the warp-core"...heh, that would have been more appropriate. 

 *** Unrelated to those thoughts, but along the same lines: Cumberbatch's villain is the latest in a recent line of what should now be considered a new movie trope—the villain who lets himself be captured, following in the heels of The Joker in The Dark Knight, Loki in The Avengers, and Silva in Skyfall.  Okay, screen-writers, "you just don't get it, do you?"