Star Trek (2009)

Written at the film's engagement. Some thoughts follow after.

"I Dare You To Do Better"

I got a call from the Captain about 5 o'clock (that'd be 2000 hours for him) on Friday, and when I saw who it was, I called him back and said "I know what this is about."

The Captain is a life-long Trekker. He knows the arcana of "Star Trek" in its canon, that being the television series—both broadcast and syndicated—and film. Plus, he's a little "inside," having drinks with the late Majel Barrett Roddenberry, introducing Patrick Stewart to "Buzz" Aldrin, and calling up Jonathan Frakes the day show creator Gene Roddenberry died to talk about "what it all meant."

The Captain knows from "Trek." So I was particularly interested in his take on "The New Version" of J.J. Abrams, or "Star Trek Begins" (a version of which producer Harve Bennett had proposed away back in the time-space continuum before Star Trek V—you know, the Shatner-directed one best forgotten). I'd watched the trailers warily, noting the emphasis on disrobing cadets and slam-bang action (not mutually exclusive), but noting a certain underlying devotion, not entirely slavish, to the original. They weren't trying to re-invent the warp-drive, which was a good thing.

"So..." I said, "what'd ya think?"

"This is the way they should have always done it.." he began.

Yeah. It is.

Star Trek is a rollicking world-and-expectations-shattering version of the Gene Roddenberry original, and most niftily, done in a way that fits within its science-fiction-y concepts. The whole movie is its plot-point and one watches in wonder how the deconstruction happens before one's eyes, while simultaneously nodding acquaintance with the tropes, concepts, and characterizations of the original. One gets the feeling of happy ebullience watching a favorite building imploded with the added delight of seeing it rise simultaneously from its own ashes to be sleeker, shinier and un-compromising.

Part of it is due to budget. Abrams was given a fat check to re-launch Paramount's key franchise (which it had nickeled and dimed into the ground the first time around), so the limitations the creators always had to contend with aren't so apparent. The Enterprise corridors no longer look like motel hallways, Engineering isn't a big space with a back-lit perspective painting behind it, and the aliens restricted to stereo-eyed bipeds with varying head-ridges. No, there's a lot of imagineering going on here in the Enterprise's brave new world of industrial-strength space-faring (at one point the new Captain Kirk sprints—of which he does...a lot—through what I swear was a brewery standing in for some section of the Enterprise's inner workings). 

The creatures have evolved differently* with nonhuman proportions, sometimes tossing out the human baggage entirely. It's a messy universe, but a full one with good ideas and concepts tossed amid the dialogue. It's a "Star Trek" Universe so full of potential, that there's no chance of coming across a creatively bankrupt parallel Earth, although the film manages to do exactly that in its own clever way.

That's the big picture. The question is the actors; the franchise will live or die on how "the New Kids" can portray the old characters. Fortunately, it's where this Star Trek shines. Everyone will have their favorites—mine are Karl Urban's note-perfect blustering McCoy and Simon Pegg's hyper-driven Scotty—but Chris Pine is a genuine find for Captain James Tiberius Kirk, employing none of the Shatnerisms (well, there's one deliberate vocal steal that made me laugh), but supplying the one thing that Shatner always brought to the table—energy. John Cho's Sulu is terrific and it's a hoot to see Russian actor Anton Yelchin employing the wretched "wessels" accent of the original Chekov. 

Zoe Saldana is given much more to do as Lt. Uhura, and given that he had Leonard Nimoy on-set for inspiration, Zachary Quinto might have taken the easy way out with a direct imitation, but his Mr. Spock is far less serene, more volatile and haughty, betraying that human half far more subtly than Nimoy did—and I believe saying that might be a court-martial offense in my house.

Where the other "Trek" movies have fallen down have been the secondary characters, but here they're just as important—Ben Cross and Winona Ryder play the star-crossed parents of Spock, while Bruce Greenwood is a superb Captain Christopher Pike. And Eric Bana, who can be on or off depending on the movie, is terrific as the long-suffering, revenge-driven Romulan Nero.

There will be a lot of sniping from the "Trekkies" who want things their way, or no way—that's to be expected with any "Trek" movie. But in the words of the former Captain Kirk: "Get a life."

Star Trek certainly got a new one.

After-thought: My, my. I did a lot of dancing around on this one because it was imperative not to give too much away (although I was doing some "punning" references to it just to amuse myself). What was wonderful about Abrams' re-boot—far better than his "Star Wars" sequels (although they're entertaining)—was his and the writers pushing "Re-set" on the entire franchise and wiping out the whole old Star Trek Universe in an ingenious time-travel story where another alien goes back in time to kill his version of Hitler, who happens to be Leonard Nimoy's Mr. Spock.

That's just clever and daring and enough to put the fear of interfering with time into anybody. But, it also wiped the creative slate clean. The Vulcans, on whom the Star Trek Universe became so dependent, became a Universal diaspora. Time-lines could be cleaned up—like the "Eugenics War"—and a better Star Trek could be rebuilt without having to necessarily wipe out "Next Generation" and its successors. And if anybody gripes about it, it's just a parallel timeline; the other one still exists, Ramada-In hallways and all.

It was thrilling—in fact, I did a couple of "Sunday Scenes" around this movie—about aspects that just made me smile.

But, it didn't last. The next Abrams Trek (Into Darkness) did the "Khan" story-line a little too soon and a little too derivatively. As I said in that review, with a new Universe to play with, it was too soon to go back to the well. And the third "Kelvin Universe" story, Star Trek Beyond, attempted to do something a bit different, along the lines of the Original Series, but its dependence on a "movie-villain" and its subsequent disappointment (even Idris Elba couldn't do anything with it) was a let-down, and the film under-performed, perhaps because it was less an "event" film than an "episodic" one.

That was four years ago and everybody's getting older. A new Trek movie was stalled when Chris Pine—and Chris Hemsworth (who played "Daddy" Kirk in the first one, indicating it was another time-travel story and a dull one at that)—had contract demands (money or credit) and it stalled. There's talk of two Treks in the works: one a new production and Quentin Tarantino production of a "Star Trek" movie, which—because QT can't keep himself from talking—was revealed to be merely be his version of a Trek story about the Eugenics War. More time-travel? Tarantino seems to be no longer interested (and I never was).

Whatever the future of "Star Trek" in the movies, one hopes that it will "go boldly"...which means that a bolder studio should take control of it as Paramount seems to be fresh out of ideas.

* There is a wickedly funny bar scene where Kirk tries to pick up the comely Lt. Uhura, while between them sits an alien seemingly modeled on the "Spitting Image" version of Leonard Nimoy, when it suddenly dawned on me what it was doing there: "Why the long face?"

Them!

Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954) "When Man entered the atomic age, he opened a door into a new world. What we'll eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict." What no one could predict is that giant atomic-mutated ants would spoil The Big Picnic. Somehow, one expected the splitting of the atom to have more profound effects.

But nature abhors a vacuum or tampering with things on the atomic level, and, apparently, so did the world-wide movie industry, because, by 1953, two films that displayed horrific effects from atomic testing exploded on (appropriately, I guess) American and Japanese theater screens: The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (Eugène Lourié) and Gojira (Ishirô Honda). Neither film exactly bombed.

And as The Bomb (and a popular 1952 re-release of King Kong) begat The Beast..., so did that Warners film beget Them! (which became Warner Brothers' box-office champ in 1954)*, inspiring a subsequent fallout of atomic themed films featuring Incredible Shrinking and 50 ft. metamorphoses that have had a half-life of (going on) 60 years. Them! may not be the glowingly cheesiest of them all—some of the writing's not bad, and despite the subject matter, some of the performances are surprisingly good—but, then, what can you expect with such an early entry in the genre, everybody was trying hard, and the writers managed to throw in some scientific fact mixed in with the hokum. But, it does have an exclamation mark in the title, which immediately makes it suspect.

And it has a good intro: a little girl (Sandy Descher) is found by police wandering in the desert, mute, in shock. Tracing her back to the family trailer (!), they find it split open—but from the inside. Hmmm. Mystery abounds, and at one point Sherlock Holmes is invoked (appropriately, as he once had to do battle with The Giant Rat of Sumatra, "a story for which the world is not yet prepared").  

But, you can't hide a gargantuan ant for very long, not even in the desert, and soon the local constabulary and the army (with the help of a couple of myrmecologists (you know, "ant-thropologists") take on the formidable formicidae with all manner of WWII surplus—flame-throwers, bazookas (that look really cool!), cyanide gas cannisters, and rocket-propelled grenades—one wishes for the huge Monty Python foot to appear, or a monstrous can of Raid...better yet, turn New Mexico into a giant ant-farm! 

There is no trying to "negotiate" with the ants (it was the 1950's, after all, at least they weren't hauled up before the House Un-American Activities Committee), and even one of the scientists—the cute female one (Joan Weldon), after making her observations, documenting them, and taking her corroborative pictures,** turns to her companions with the flame-throwers and says, "Burn it. Burn EVERYTHING!" O-kay...

This one was directed by Gordon Douglas,*** who worked his way up from "Our Gang" comedies to Laurel and Hardy and became to go-to director for 20th Century Fox when they needed a fast turn-around on a sequel or a Frank Sinatra movie, and sports all sorts of good actors trying to take it all seriously: Edmund Gwenn, James Whitmore, James Arness, Fess Parker (in an odd role as a man driven lunatic by the sight of giant ants), and look for glimpses of Richard Deacon (reporter), William Schallert (doctor) and Leonard Nimoy**** (fleetingly) as a soldier with some interesting information, and with no less than four employments of the giddily hysterical "Wilhelm" scream (performed by Sheb Wooley) shrieking throughout.  "The Wilhelm" was recorded for the 1952 film Distant Drums and became part of the Warner Brothers stock sound effects library under the title "man being eaten by alligator." 

And giant ants. Lots of giant ants. Zillions of them. Although, for budgetary reasons, we only see three at a time.

"The Wilhelm," however, probably wouldn't be classified as one of those "profound effects" previously mentioned.

"Look...it was a paycheck, okay?"

* Interestingly, though, no Academy Award nominations....

** Dialogue that came to mind: "I need to get one of you officers close to one, so I can get some perspective. Would you...?" "Lady!  You nuts??!!

*** And, you can tell that it was SUPPOSED to be shot in 3-D, with some shots hurtling at you...and evidently in color (only the title is), but someone in Warners accounting wisely decided not to "splurge" on a giant ant movie.

****

Don't Make a Scene: Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

The Set-Up: No excuses—I just love this scene.  For all the special-effects hi-jinks of "Star Trek" (series and film), the high-points of the films (or the low-points) usually occurred with crew by-play and interaction* and by the time of Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home—I'm sure co-scenarist Nicholas Meyer was tempted to call it "The Long Voyage Home"—this collection of veteran character actors had been working together off and on for some twenty years, despite the series exposure making it difficult for them to avoid type-casting and getting other work.** It lent itself to some lovely stuff (when the writers and directors gave them a chance) to show off their talents, usually submerged, for timing and playing off each other's strengths and eccentricities.

And two of the best co-conspirators for this were Nicholas Meyer and Leonard Nimoy. Meyer, the writer-director (despite what the official credits say) of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, had a keen outsider's perspective of what made "Trek" work, and, given his interests and past work (particularly the film Time After Time) knew he could mine satirical story-gold with the time-displaced visitors' exposure to modern times. His section of the screenplay begins once the crew has traveled back in time and ends with their return (there's a definite shift in tone from his work and co-scenarist Harve Bennett's exposition-heavy book-ending sequences). And Nimoy was the most analytical of the Trek actors, taking the bare-bones of the emotionless (supposedly) alien concept of the character Spock, and creating bits of business and arcana that made the character a fan-favorite. Having cut his directing teeth on the previous film, he could relax from the studio-politics and technical issues new to a first-time director, and concentrate on the nuances of Meyer's concepts and conceits...and oversee his fellow actors' handling of them.

The results were some of Trek's best moments, funny and loose and firing on all thrusters, particularly this scene, between Admiral Kirk (the energetically eccentric William Shatner), Captain Spock (Nimoy) and cetologist Gillian Taylor (Catherine Hicks, a fine mercurial actress—check out the suspicious look she gives Spock in this scene). At this point in the story, having returned-from-the dead ("You really have gone where no man has gone before" says Dr. McCoy, somewhat inaccurately), and whizzed through his Vulcan training, Spock is still learning human idiosyncrasies (particularly Kirk's) and is playing "catch up" with their penchant for "winging it" (particularly Kirk's—hence the "colorful metaphor" remark, which Spock has learned humans employ to make sure their words are being heard...by swearing). As everybody from the future is learning the ropes, he's in good company, but "ancient" Earth is particularly mystifying for the "born-again" Vulcan. Shatner's and Nimoy's timing and interplay here are exquisite, mined for wit and sub-text.

The Story: The disgraced Enterprise crew (the top tier of them, anyway) go back to Earth to face the music for their crimes of Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and—isn't this a coincidence?—they arrive just in time to see the Earth being threatened by an alien vessel bent on robbing the planet of power, and inexplicably, dehydrating the planet, as if looking for something. Analysis reveals the vessel communicating in a language, undecipherable to humans—whale, and specifically humpback song. Still piloting a powered Klingon war-bird,*** the intrepid Enterprise crew (with a recently returned-from-the-dead Spock, still getting his space-legs) go back in time (1980's Earth) to try and capture a member of the species extinct in their time to save Earth (present-day): fish-out-of-water trying to save fish...well, aquatic mammals.

Action!

As Kirk is about to start another call on the communicator, an approaching vehicle makes him put the device away. He turns to see:

She reacts, keeps her eyes on them, and passes them slowly enough so that they look up to see her. As she leaves them behind, she purses her lips, stops the car, considers. Then she backs up.

KIRK: It's her -- from the Institute. If we play our cards right, we may learn when those whales are really leaving.

SPOCK: How will playing cards help?

GILLIAN: Well, if it isn't Robin Hood and Friar Tuck.

GILLIAN: Where are you fellahs heading?

KIRK: Back to San Francisco.

GILLIAN: Came all the way down here to jump in and swim with the kiddies, huh?

KIRK: There's really very little point in my trying to explain.

GILLIAN: I buy that. What about him?

KIRK: He's harmless. (inspiration) Back in the sixties he was part of the Free Speech movement at Berkeley.

KIRK: I think he did too much LDS.

GILLIAN: LDS?? Come on, Lemme give you a lift. I have a notorious weakness for hard luck cases -- that's why I work with whales.

KIRK: We don't want to be any trouble.
GILLIAN: You've already been that. C'mon.

She stops, pushes open the door. They get in, Spock in the middle staring straight ahead.
KIRK: Thank you very much.
GILLIAN: Don't mention it.

GILLIAN: And don't try anything, either. I got a tire iron right where I can get at it.

Kirk has no idea what she's talking about. Silence. Then, to Spock:

GILLIAN(continuing): So you were at Berkeley.
SPOCK: I was not.
Kirk rolls his eyes.
KIRK: Memory problems, too.
GILLIAN: Uh huh. What about you? Where you from?
KIRK: Iowa.
GILLIAN: A landlubber.

GILLIAN: Come on, what the hell were you boys really trying to do back there? Was it some kinda macho thing? If that's all, I'm gonna be real disappointed. I hate that macho type.

KIRK: Can I ask you something?
GILLIAN: Go ahead.
KIRK: What's going to happen when you release the whales?

Long pause. Gillian doesn't like considering this.
GILLIAN: They're gonna hafta take their chances.

KIRK: What does that mean, exactly? Take their chances.

GILLIAN: It means that they will be at risk from whale hunters -- same as the rest of the humpbacks. (to Spock) What did you mean when you said all that stuff back at the Institute about extinction?

SPOCK: I meant --
KIRK: He meant what you were saying on the tour: that if things keep on the way they're going, humpbacks will disappear forever.

GILLIAN: That's not what he said, farm boy. "Admiral, if we were to assume these whales are ours to do with as we please, we would be as guilty as those who caused -- past tense -- their extinction."
(pause)

GILLIAN: I have a photographic memory. I see words.

A silence.

SPOCK (to Kirk): Are you sure it isn't time for a colorful metaphor?

GILLIAN: You're not one of those guys from the military, are you? Trying to teach whales to retrieve torpedoes, or some dipshit stuff like that?

KIRK: No, ma'am. No dipshit.

GILLIAN: Well, that's something. I'da let you off right here.

SPOCK (suddenly): Gracie is pregnant.

Gillian stops the car with a SQUEAL OF BRAKES.

GILLIAN: All right. Who are you? And don't jerk me around any more. I want to know how you know that.

KIRK: I can't tell you everything...
(she starts to interrupt)

KIRK:  Please, just -- let me finish. I can tell you that we're not in the military and that we intend no harm to the whales.

GILLIAN: Then --

KIRK: In fact, we may be able to help -- in ways that, frankly, you couldn't possibly imagine.

GILLIAN: Or believe, I'll bet.

 KIRK (he sinks back into his seat): Very likely.

KIRK: You're not exactly catching us at our best.
SPOCK: That much is certain.

Silence.

KIRK: You know I've got a hunch we'd all be a lot happier talking over dinner. What do you say?

 Gillian considers this for a moment; she's got nothing better to do. Finally:

GILLIAN: You guys like Italian?

Kirk and Spock exchange glances, mystified.

SPOCK: No.
KIRK (overlapping) Yes. 
SPOCK: No.
KIRK: No.
SPOCK: No.

KIRK: Yes.

KIRK: I love Italian.

KIRK: And so do you.

SPOCK: Yes.

She looks at them. What a group.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home
 
Words by Harve Bennett and Nicholas Meyer (and Steve Meerson and Peter Krikes)
 
Pictures by Donald Peterman and Leonard Nimoy
 
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home is available on DVD from Paramount Home Video.

* Probably why there is such rancor these days—I've learned—between fans of "Star Trek" and "Star Wars" (Really?  Must we play into the fractious stereotype?).  We'll get into this at a later date.  It gives me a headache just thinking about it.

** In my studio career, I got to work with a couple "Trek" actors.  Here's my James Doohan story. "The actor who played Scotty" was recording a commercial for some Paramount-theme park or other, which he did in a fine, professional manner, formal, welcoming and proudly excited. Great "take." There was a silence on the other end of the telephone "patch," where the director/producers were listening over the line.  "Ah...Jimmy" came the voice over the phone "Uh...that was fine...fine...but...could you do it as Scotty?" (Doohan was Canadian, but specialized in accents and voices of all types). "Ye-eah," said Doohan, hesitantly. "But...I'm saying 'This is James Doohan' and that's not my real voice and accent." "Ye-ah," came the voice over the phone. "Hell, Jimmy, could you just DO it?" I watched Doohan through the glass in the booth, considering. "Sure," he said, finally. "I'll do it as Scotty." "Great!" We passed a look, and Doohan shrugged "what the hell..."  and did it. It was a gig, and he was a trooper, even though he was James Doohan and not some Scottish engineer from the future that he played once on TV.  Doohan died in 2005 from pneumonia and Alzheimer's. Lang may yer lum reek!

*** I know, the Romulans have war-birds, but, remember, in Season III of The Original Series, the Klingons and Romulans formed a pact (for production budget reasons, I suspect, as, apparently, did the show....) where they traded military designs...do I really have to go into this?  I sound like such a geek.