Star Trek The Motion Picture - reconsidered

I vividly recall the first time I saw Star Trek The Motion Picture.  I was twelve years old and had been anticipating the movie literally for years – ever since I’d heard that a new Trek television series was in the making and saw the first set construction photos and conceptual drawings in Starlog magazine. But somehow, I’d never learned the premiere date.

In December of 1979, my parents were separated and my father had visitation rights that weekend.  (My parents’ divorce was an ordeal for the entire family, particularly me as I changed schools four times in one year – but that’s a story for another day.)  After picking me up, my dad asked where I wanted to go for dinner, and I chose Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips.  After we ordered, I saw a newspaper laying on a table and immediately looked through the movie listings.  Star Trek was advertised as being shown at the Richmond Theater (long since closed).  I begged my father to take us there and he, wanting eventual custody of me, was more than willing to indulge me.  I wolfed down my Fish & Chips and we headed to the theater.  The movie had already started and we arrived during the wormhole sequence – one of the most dazzling parts of the film, both visually and kinetically.  The auditorium was well filled and we sat near the back.  Several things about that first viewing remain most vivid: the hypnotizing visual effects of the Cloud sequence, the goosebumps I felt when Kirk intoned with astonishment, “Voyager Six!”, and my father complaining that “this film is so slow moving” during the V’ger flyover.  Incidentally, after the film, we waited in the theater to watch the beginning – which was and remains my favorite part: The Klingon sequence, Scotty showing Kirk around the Enterprise, and the ship’s launch seemed much more finished and better paced than the later sequences. 

I saw TMP (as it’s now abbreviated) a few more times during the initial theatrical run, usually dragging along a family member.  My mother didn’t like it at all – she was particularly offended by McCoy’s “capture God” remark – in retrospect I don’t think she understood what the notion behind the line, that “we all create God in our own image” - a line cut from the theatrical version.  More on that later.  And after my father remarried and moved his new wife, her kids and me to California, my stepbrother and I went to see TMP (double billed with Forbidden Planet) at the spectacular Laurel Theatre in San Carlos.  My stepbrother kept imitating Shatner’s over-delivered “Will you…please…sit down” line before falling asleep during, of course, the V’ger flyover.

Most of my new school mates echoed my father’s complaint.  One remarked that “They only fired one laser during the whole movie.”  (Of course, it was a photon torpedo which was actually fired, but I understood his meaning.)  Honestly, I don’t even remember that kid’s name, although I do remember that he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the lamp.  But he touched on one of the film’s weakest points: a lack of action – coupled with a lethargic pace and characters who mostly react to events and situations.  It’s only toward the end of the film, when Spock takes matters into his own hands and goes on a joyride spacewalk through V’ger’s innards, and later when Kirk bluffs the Ilia probe by ordering the bridge cleared, that we see the characters being their usual proactive selves.  Appropriately, Spock’s “V’ger is a child, I suggest we treat it as such” and Kirk’s outwitting the Ilia probe were plot points devised by Nimoy and Shatner to lead toward the film’s climax. 

I saw TMP several times on video as an adult, and got the widescreen theatrical version on Laserdisc when it was introduced.  Each version offered improved visual and audio quality.  But I would invariably watch the opening 45 minutes, and skip past much of the middle to get to the denouement.  My feelings for TMP remained mixed. 

On the positive side, this is the only Trek film that really made me feel like I was actually on a starship.  I spent hours thinking about the Enterprise – studying a cutaway poster showing where the Bridge, Captain’s quarters, Engineering, and the rest were located – and imagined myself walking her corridors.  My musings subconsciously revealed one of the film’s weaknesses: The Enterprise was the lead character in the film.  While I’ve always thought of the Enterprise as a vital part of Trek, it was never at the expense of the characters.  (It’s worth remembering that the most popular Trek film, 1986’s The Voyage Home, featured the crew using a stolen Klingon Bird of Prey “rust-bucket” and only briefly showed the new Enterprise at the end.)  I can understand why Leonard Nimoy, in particular, had a strong distaste for TMP – even though Spock’s character in the film undergoes an epiphany.

The Special Effects were, for the most part, spectacular.  Douglas Trumbull, who was recruited to rescue the effects work from a substandard firm brought on by Paramount’s number-crunchers, obviously sweated the details.  The Enterprise has never looked better than she does in The Motion Picture – not even in subsequent Trek films.  The pearlescent paint scheme and use of complex patterns on the hull helped create a multidimensional look to the eight-foot model.  The lighting scheme for the Enterprise, which made use of reflections from dental mirrors, and the graceful way in which she moved, showed what was possible in model photography in the pre-CGI era.  And the use of tiny space-suited figures helps sell the size of the Enterprise, which in turn helps the viewer understand the immensity of V’ger.  True, there were occasional visible matte lines, particularly when the Enterprise or Klingon ships are shown in front of the V’ger Cloud – but they were not as noticeable on the relatively low contrast movie screen as they would be on television.  The intermixing patterns of the Cloud itself were mesmerizing (and, I later learned, created via multi-planed airbrushed artwork in a surprisingly simple method).  Much of the work is so dazzling that only on repeat viewing does one notice what’s missing – we never see the totality of V’ger itself.  What is visible of V’ger was created by John Dykstra, and stands as a triumph of the imagination.

Jerry Goldsmith’s score was justly nominated for an Oscar.  (The fact that the winner, Georges Delerue’s score for “A Little Romance” is now forgotten – as is the film – demonstrates that AMPAS is as tone deaf as it is predisposed against Science Fiction.)  With most of TMP’s sound effects work incomplete due to the tight post-production schedule, Goldsmith’s score literally carries several scenes.  Not only is Goldsmith’s score grand, it’s innovative, particularly the use of the Blaster Beam which, in a twist that could only happen in Hollywood, was created by Craig Huxley, who appeared in two Trek episodes as a child actor.  I still have the original LP, thoroughly scratched from the number of times I played it.  In nearly 40 years, I’ve only known one person to knock TMP’s score: David Gerrold, who wrote The Trouble with Tribbles, called Goldsmith’s score “dreadful.”  This goes to show that there are indeed contemporary gay men who lack musical taste.

There’s been much fuss over TMP’s uniforms, which make use of muted colors - they admittedly look rather drab in the old standard definition transfers.  But the truth is most uniformed personnel don’t parade around in primary colors – most non-dress, duty uniforms are rather plain.  TMP’s utilitarian take on the uniforms is probably more realistic than those seen between The Wrath of Khan and First Contact.  The long and short sleeve variants of the shirt (or in naval parlance, blouse) are a nice updating of the series look – and the cast (with the exception of James Doohan) were still in good enough shape to pull the form fitting look off.  The only uniforms from TMP I didn’t like were the pajama-type one pieces.  They didn’t work in TMP and didn’t work in the first two seasons of The Next Generation.

But some things about TMP were just “off”.  Tonally, it didn’t feel “right”. 

The opening credits - stylized white text over a plain black background - were especially disappointing in light of the spectacular opening sequence from Superman one year prior.  Not a promising way to begin a film for which the tagline was “There is no comparison.”

The chemistry between the characters was mostly absent, save for a few moments during the last half hour.  There was an utter lack of humor – making an already serious film into a portentous one.  I’ve read that Shatner and Nimoy were both concerned about this, and asked director Robert Wise if they could improvise a few humorous moments, which Wise could either use or not.  They were refused.  That was a big mistake on Wise’s part.

The ABC broadcast version

In 1983, ABC aired an expanded version of the film over two consecutive nights.  There were about 11 minutes of previously unseen footage, most of which, frankly, was padding.  There was an embarrassing scene showing a horny Sulu being flustered by the sexually irresistible Deltan navigator, Ilia.  The V’ger flyover scenes, which were too long to begin with, were expanded with clunky dialog including “It could hold a crew of tens of thousands”, “Or a crew of a thousand ten miles tall.”  The most egregiously inept addition was an unfinished shot of Kirk in a spacesuit exiting the Enterprise airlock, clearly showing studio equipment and rafters where a matte painting should have been.  In addition, Shatner was wearing a different spacesuit than in later shots.  There were only a few added moments which were truly worthy – in particular a scene of Spock with a single tear running down his cheek, explaining he wept for V’ger as he would for a brother.  This version was released on VHS, and became a reference version for some fans – not me.

The Director’s Cut

After the release of the film, Robert Wise largely disavowed himself from Star Trek – complaining that in 40 years of making films, Trek was the only one where he didn’t have a sneak preview.  In the late 1990s, Wise was persuaded to re-watch the film, and became interested in putting together a properly completed version of the film.  Robert Wise’s director’s cut kept the best (mostly) of the footage from the 1983 TV version, ditched some needless exposition from the theatrical cut (“We’re out of it”, “The new screens held”), completed some visual sequences that weren’t ready in 1979, and made the sound mix a bit friendlier.  A number of the sequences were changed so subtly that the differences are only apparent with side-by-side comparison.  Some fans have criticized some of the sonic changes – particularly the removal of the robotic voice which endlessly and tiresomely intoned “malfunction” “Intruder Alert”, and “Emergency Alert – Negative Control at Helm” in the original cut – but I think these changes were to the good.  Truth is, professionals in a work environment do not need a computer telling them what’s wrong – they should be able to ascertain that on their own.  I do believe, however, that the use of sound effects from the original series and the crudely recreated red alert sound effect could have been done better. 

I think that, given the limitations of the script, the Director’s Cut mostly delivers the best experience of all the commercially available versions.  The grandeur of the theatrical cut is still there, but some of the grandiosity has been removed.

But I would make some additional changes:

First, the Overture should be dropped.  Pre-film overtures were already a rarity in 1979 and merely padded an extra three minutes of screen time onto an overly long film.  For anyone who wants to hear the music, it’s on CD.

There are tiny moments which could still be cut, which would subtly improve the film’s pacing.  For example, there is a moment during the wormhole sequence where it appears Shatner is waiting to receive his cue so he can say his line, “Time to impact” and there’s another bit where the ship lurches and Nichelle Nichols looks like she’s about to slap Stephen Collins’ butt – unintentionally funny.  There’s also a flipped shot of Shatner swiveling in his chair that should be corrected. 

Plus, there are some overacted moments, mostly from Shatner, that could be cut – particularly his almost laughable “I need him” during the officer’s lounge scene. 

I would also reinsert one tiny but important moment that has only appeared in the ABC TV version: Decker’s all-important response to McCoy’s line: “Jim, V'ger is saying its Creator is a machine!”  Decker’s reply: “Of course, we all create God in our own image.”   It’s easy to see why this line was cut: it puts Roddenberry’s essentially atheistic philosophy front and center – and Paramount would not have wanted one line to jeopardize the box office of their most expensive film to date.  My mother would most certainly have been offended – although she was hardly a Trek fan.  But many true-blue Trek fans are religious – and generally Christian. 

But now, it appears that the theatrical version of The Motion Picture will remain the best known.  Paramount has issued the theatrical cut on blu-ray, and this is the version that’s available for streaming.   The revised visuals for Robert Wise’s director’s cut were rendered in standard definition – so that on modern 1080p TVs they appear ill-defined. 

I wish Paramount would put the money forward to allow the new effects sequences to be re-rendered in high definition and put it on blu-ray.  But as time marches on, that prospect seems increasingly unlikely.

Time After Time After Time…

In 1979, Warner Brothers quietly released a film that garnered respectable box office receipts and became one of my favorites: Time After Time.  The “what if” story by Karl Alexander and Nicholas Meyer was based on a straightforward conceit: What if H. G. Wells had actually built a time machine, and what if Jack the Ripper escaped to modern times in such a machine?  The summer movie featured Malcolm MacDowell (recovering from his portrayal of the titular character in Caligula) as Wells, David Warner as John Leslie Stevenson/Jack the Ripper, and Mary Steenburgen as bank clerk Amy Robbins.  Much of the film was shot on location in San Francisco – a city which would soon take a larger role in my life. 

How to categorize Time After Time?  Was it science-fiction?  Steampunk?  Romance?  Humor? Social commentary?  Action adventure?  All of the above, superbly mixed by fledgling director Meyers and brought to life by a cast for whom the chemistry – particularly between MacDowell and Steenburgen, who were married a year later – was real. 

With the combination of genres and the popularity of time travel stories, it should have been inevitable that a TV adaptation would be in the offing.  It’s taken 37 years, but ABC aired its pilot for Time After Time this past Sunday.

Sad to say, I was rather disappointed.  In every level, ABC’s version is markedly inferior to the 1979 movie. 

Most of the plot from the movie version is recycled for the pilot - some dialog is repeated verbatim.  No surprise there as Nicholas Meyer, who co-wrote and directed the film, is credited with the screenplay.  But much of the charm of the movie, which resulted from Wells’ frequent “fish out of water” moments, has been discarded here.  To be sure, in both versions Wells is awed by modern technology.  But in many ways he seems too contemporary in the reboot.  Even Wells’ English is curiously in sync with our time.  Particularly with Wells’ frequent use of the word “okay” – a term which simply did not exist for the British of the 19^th Century.

As television is often filmed on a very rushed schedule and it takes actors several episodes to settle into their characters (Leonard Nimoy’s turn as Spock is a prime example of this), it will take several more weeks to accurately assess the casting.  So far, Freddie Stroma is charming as the naïve younger Wells.  The other actors don’t yet bring much beyond physical beauty to their role.  It remains to be seen whether Josh Bowman can bring the menace and latent self-revulsion to the role of Jack the Ripper that David Warner did.  So far, he’s just a handsome young man with a set of knives.  Much of the characterization will require collaboration between the actors and writers. 

Even the special effects, which are so easily achievable compared to 1979, suffer in comparison.  Take, for example, the all-important time travel sequence.  In 1979, it was achieved by animation accompanied by recordings of events as Wells traveled forward through time: a newsboy shouting a headline about World War I, a bit of the Charleston, FDR’s “the only thing we have to fear”, Hitler shouting, World War II, the assassinations of the 1960s, etc.  The effects were hardly state of the art, even for 1979, but they conveyed to the viewer what Wells experienced during his journey.   The TV version?  The windows of H. G.’s time machine ice-up, and suddenly he’s in a new era.    

Pilots can often be unreliable indicators of how a show will evolve.  Neither of Star Trek’s two pilots look or feel much like the show it would become.  The Munsters, Star Trek, and All in the Family went through several changes between pilot and regular season.  Despite my initial disappointment, I will continue watching Time After Time, at least for this season.

Jackie and Rogue One

Dan & I saw two films over the weekend, Jackie and Rogue One. 

Jackie was a searing look at Jacqueline Kennedy's experience of dealing with the aftermath of her husband's murder, from returning to Washington with his body, planning his funeral, and ensuring his legacy was remembered - partly through an interview which has now become legendary. Like one's own memories, the film moves back and forth through time in a stream of consciousness fashion, but holds together well - mostly due to Natalie Portman's brilliant performance. She's come a long way from playing Queen Amidala. 

Rogue One was probably the best Star Wars movie since The Empire Strikes back. Without being too spoilery, it deals with the events immediately preceding 1977's A New Hope. The battle scenes were spectacular. But the limitations of CGI were shown in the doll-like recreations of the young Carrie Fisher and the late Peter Cushing.

Matt Damon – both right and wrong on coming out

Daniel and I saw The Martian yesterday.  It’s easily the best science fiction film to be released since last year’s Interstellar.  It’s also the rare example of a film which is neither ascetic nor padded, with the right balance of character moments and action.  Go see it.

 

We would have not seen it had we been paying attention to the activist types who were calling for the film’s boycott after Damon was quoted in a Guardian article opining that LGBT actors who came out of the closet were less likely to have blockbuster careers – citing Rupert Everett as an example.  (I would point out that the less than stellar career Everett has experienced is more likely due to his prickly personality and limited acting chops – has he ever been able to play a heterosexual man convincingly?)  I’m more than willing to pass on a bad film which bastardizes our history, like Roland Emmerich’s Stonewall – particularly since there’s a vastly superior film of the same name from 1996.  I’m less willing to boycott an excellent film like The Martian – particularly when the activists, or more precisely "hacktivists", conveniently forget that Damon has been a stalwart friend to the gay community for decades and has proven his willingness to play gay roles.  How quickly some of us are willing to tar & feather our own friends.

 

I would advise Damon that it’s always risky to give members of another community advice – no matter how well-intended.  I’ve no doubt that Damon was maneuvered into addressing the subject by the Guardian interviewer – in a never ending quest for “click-bait.”  However, no straight man, even an ally, should advise LGBT actors on whether to come out, just as no white person should be telling people of color how to run their community – nor should men be trying to regulate the reproductive rights of women.  But before I digress, let’s return to the subject at hand.

 

Damon was certainly factually correct when he opined that openly LGBT actors are less likely to have the blockbuster careers of their heterosexual or closeted counterparts.  Here’s where his logic breaks down, however.  It took generations of African-American film and television actors, from Hattie McDaniel, to Ossie Davis – often playing thankless roles, before Sidney Poitier could break out as someone with appeal beyond the African-American community, and another generation for mega-stars like Denzel Washington and Will Smith to appear. 

 

Such progress will only be made in the LGBT community as more stars “come out” as openly gay.  It has already happened throughout much of corporate America – as evidenced by Tim Cook, CEO of Apple.  The march toward equality in the work place started with Frank Kameny, who lost his job in 1957 after coming out.  Doubtless, Kameny, an astronomer for the U. S. Army, could have had a lucrative career if he’d kept his nature hidden.  But he chose principle over money, went on to lead the Washington, DC branch of the Mattachine Society, and by his example inspired others to come out.  In the 1970s, Harvey Milk’s example inspired the next generation of lesbians and gays to come out.  Tragically, Milk paid for his activism with his life – but stirred many more to action.  It was people like Milk who inspired me to come out in 1985 – while still in high school.  And openly gay people of that generation spurred on the following generation – which has led to the further mainstreaming of LGBT people in American society.

 

Each generation stands on the shoulders and accomplishments of its predecessors.  The number of openly LGBT actors is increasing so rapidly that news of another actor coming out tends to elicit a collective shoulder shrug and “So?”.  But Hollywood executives don’t think like ordinary Americans, and if given the choice of an openly gay actor and apparently heterosexual one, the executive will bet his money on the hetero.  So, in that sense, Damon is right.  There’s also the legitimate question as to whether movie stars will exist a generation from now: movie theatres are closing left & right, and the most interesting stories are now being told on television – which has entered a new Golden Age thanks to cable and streaming options. 

 

 

But for now, forget the angry activists and go see The Martian – a true epic made for the big screen, and the collective experience of old fashioned film-going.

 

Rest in Peace, Leonard Nimoy

Leonard Nimoy (l), with Mission: Impossible cast members. (Photo: Wikipedia)

Leonard Nimoy died this morning.

He is, of course, best known for his portrayal of Mr. (later Captain, later Ambassador) Spock on Star Trek.  Leonard Nimoy's nuanced performance made Spock into the most human character of any of Trek's incarnations. He was a symbol for anyone who was different. As a lonely child, Spock was my hero and role model.

But Nimoy also turned in memorable performances as the brilliant and amoral William Bell on TV's Fringe; the master of disguise Paris in Mission: Impossible; and as Vincent Van Gough's brother Theo in the one man stage play Vincent. Nimoy also directed several films, including the hit Three Men and a Baby, wrote poetry, and even owned a pet store. An Army veteran (he attained the rank of Sergeant), Nimoy worked as a taxicab driver during the lean years before Star Trek. In later life, he recalled one of his passengers was a young Senator named John F. Kennedy.


I am actually two degrees removed from Leonard Nimoy. My uncle, Jim Drake, was a Hollywood extra who appeared on numerous TV shows of the 1960s and 70s - including Star Trek. In the episode Turnabout Intruder, he played a security guard who placed Mr. Spock under arrest.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Nimoy. May your memory endure into the 23rd Century and beyond.

Man of Steel

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Perhaps I’m showing my age. First, the new Star Trek movie largely left me cold. Now, the new Superman movie, Man of Steel, has been released to great fanfare. I dutifully saw it on opening weekend and was largely unimpressed.

What I liked: Henry Cavill does an excellent job portraying Kal-El, giving a slightly more brooding turn than usual. Some purists will object to a Briton portraying America’s superhero, but as Superman is not even human, I’m fine with it. As for Clark Kent, we see very little of him – the famous glasses are not even worn until the last few frames of the movie. Amy Adams brings a knowing glint to Lois Lane, sadly missing from Kate Bosworth’s limp portrayal in Superman Returns. The rest of the supporting cast is excellent in every respect, particularly Kevin Costner as Jonathan Kent.

What I disliked: I didn’t like the reimagined Krypton – give me the Donner icy galactic version any day. Nor did I care for the dumbed down plot and solution. In previous incarnations, from the comic books, to the serials, the classic 50s TV show and Christopher Reeve movies, Superman was always victorious in the end because he used his most important superpower: his brain. Here, we just have a series of endless action sequences ending in a snapped neck. The tuneless, percussive score droned monotonously. There’s quite a bit of product placement in Man of Steel – but there was in the 1978 Superman movie as well. Cheerios and Timex watches have been replaced with IHOP and Sears.

Star Trek Into Gimmickry

I’ve been a Star Trek fan for longer than I can remember. I was only two years old when the original series was cancelled, but I watched it early on in the syndication – around the same time I watched the Animated Series. I’ve seen all the movies on or shortly after opening day. After seeing the pilot of The Next Generation, I didn’t bother watching it again until the Third Season – by which time it was a much better series, and I’ve watched the subsequent series, but not with the dedication of the original.

Of course, an adult looks for different things in entertainment than a child – at least I hope that’s the case. When I watched Trek initially, it was for the “neat-o” things: phasers, photon torpedoes, the ship being thrown off axis and crewmembers flying everywhere. Later, at a time when my own family was breaking up, I watched for the familiarity of the crew. Even later, I picked up on the social/political commentary embedded in many episodes. Not long ago, I was watching an episode called “A Private Little War” which concerned the Klingons and Federation arming different factions on a neutral planet, and I realized the episode was an allegory about Vietnam.

Many of these thoughts returned to me after watching the latest Trek film: Into Darkness. It’s certainly entertaining, in that it holds the viewer’s attention. Like most genre films these days, it’s paced relentlessly fast. I saw the movie twice, mostly because it was in 3-D, a first for a Star Trek film. But I don’t plan on seeing it in the theater again.

First, there is the issue of the villain, who’s revealed to be none other than Khan Noonian Singh. Let’s ignore the fact that Benedict Cumberbatch, while a fine actor, is totally unsuited to the role of a North Indian superman. Let’s focus on how the character is written. Khan as portrayed in the movie is a psychotic killer without remorse or redemptive qualities, who committed genocide during the 20^th Century. This is poles apart from the way Khan was written in the original series, where he was described as “the best of the tyrants…there were no massacres under his rule.” The writing, and Ricardo Montalban’s performance, exuded a sense of ruthless nobility. During the course of the episode, Khan killed precisely ZERO crewmembers. It was for this reason that Kirk dropped charges against Khan and his followers and settled them on a planet – which subsequently suffered an ecological disaster. Even the revenge obsessed, Ahab-Like Khan of the second Star Trek film, who rightly blamed Kirk for neglecting to send follow up ships to check on their progress, was restrained enough to maroon the crew of the Reliant on Ceti Alpha V rather than killing them – although he killed several people later in the film. The original Khan and the alternate Khan are not the same villain, and the alternate timeline of the new movies is not an adequate excuse for that.

Secondly, there is the film’s portrayal of Kirk as a reckless youth, too big for his britches and not worthy of commanding a starship. By the end of the film, he’s had his comeuppance. Whether he’s matured into the character seen in the original series remains to be seen.

To be blunt, I find the portrayal of Kirk in the two most recent Trek films to be offensive. Although the new films’ kirk grew up in an altered universe from the original series, the modern portrayal is certain to cast a negative hue on the classic character. It’s worth remembering that the young Kirk was remembered as “a stack of books with legs” by associates who knew him while in Starfleet Academy.

The impression most people have of the original series' Kirk as a shoot first, talk later, bed down with every space-babe Captain is exaggerated. In reality, he was a lot closer to Pike and Picard than he is to the Kirk character in the two most recent movies. Also, William Shatner’s acting style has been so often and broadly parodied that it has changed the perceptions of casual and non-fans regarding his real portrayal. It’s worth remembering that Shatner’s performance in early TOS episodes was initially criticized as “wooden” by TV Guide. Shatner did his share of scenery chewing, but those were rare and mostly toward the end of the series’ run and in the movies.

Take for example, Kirk alleged aggression. There are plenty of episodes where Kirk resisted the impulse/advice to act more aggressively against a real or perceived enemy (Where No Man has Gone Before, The Devil in the Dark, The Corbomite Maneuver, The Conscience of the King, Arena, By Any Other Name, The Omega Glory). In nearly every episode in which there’s aggression, Kirk is backed into a corner until there’s no alternative (Where No Man has Gone Before), or undertakes it to stave off an expansion of hostilities (Balance of Terror).

Then there is the issue of Kirk’s alleged promiscuity. He certainly had his share of “action”, but there were often qualifiers: under a spell/hypnosis/posession (Elaan of Troyus, Dagger of the Mind, Return to Tomorrow); amnesia (The Paradise Syndrome); divided in two by the transporter (The Enemy Within); the female was an android/simulacrum (What Are Little Girls Made of, Requiem for Methuselah, Shore Leave); operating under false pretenses (The Conscience of the King, Mirror Mirror, Catspaw, By Any Other Name, Wink of an Eye, The Mark of Gideon). He also had his share of exes – intelligent, independent females – most of whom regarded him highly, and vice-versa (Court Martial, The Deadly Years, The Wrath of Khan). There was one exception, Janet Lester, who was arguably psychotic. Kirk also suffered his share of romantic tragedy (The City on the Edge of Forever, The Paradise Syndrome), and was even given the brush-off (The Voyage Home). Finally, anyone who followed the series even casually could discern that many of these flings didn’t go “all the way”. Somehow, I can’t imagine the series’ Kirk bedding town with two alien females while the Beastie Boys blasted from his sound system.

Ultimately, of course, it's the writer who's responsible for the character's arc. Classic Trek was blessed with a great writer D. C. (Dorothy) Fontana, one of the few female writers in television in those days. She and the rest of the creative team - including the actors - made Kirk and Spock into complex, interesting, and imperfect characters. The J. J. Abrams franchise is run by post-adolescent fanboys who place cleverness and contrivance before substance. Not that the new Trek isn't entertaining - but it's not a character driven drama – and it doesn’t stand up to repeated viewing.

An eventful weekend

Anyone who says there isn’t anything to do in Cleveland hasn’t dug deeply enough. Dan & I had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.

Dan and I planned to go to the Cleveland Aquarium Saturday, but we discovered parking in the Flats was packed due to the annual Rib Fest. Reasoning that the Aquarium could wait for another day, we headed down to Tremont for a delicious lunch at Fat Cats. Tremont reminds me of some parts of Boston, and I like the close knit, slightly gritty quality of the place – which is at once urban and relaxed. Tremont is highly walkable, which is something communities must strive to be if they are to be successful in the future. If Dan and I didn’t work in the Eastern suburbs, we would call a place like Tremont home. 

From there, we headed to A Christmas Story House and Museum. I was only marginally aware of The Christmas Story until about ten years ago – I knew the movie was about Christmas and that part of it had been filmed in Cleveland. Although only the exteriors of the house were filmed in Tremont, the interior has been decorated to look similar to the film, with period furnishings and appliances. Two items that caught my attention were the wall phone with the number on the nameplate (incorrectly formatted as 216-298-4919, when back in the day it would not have included the area code and the number would read as CYpress8-4919), and the mixer in the kitchen. During the blackout of 2003, I had an old phone like this and it was the only way to make a call when the cell phone stations failed and cordless phones didn’t run without power. As for the mixer, I have one of a similar vintage which still works fine. They truly built things to last in those days, although my 70 year old electric metronome is definitely on its’ last legs.

Sunday, we went to see The Dictator. While not as screamingly funny as Borat, the humor was topical and the film engaging. I am reminded of W. C. Field’s axiom: We are here not only to entertain but to illuminate.

Monday was South Euclid’s Memorial Day Parade. Mason and I walked with several friends from FIDO. A particularly muggy morning, Mason really felt the heat. It was the first time I’d ever seen him walk with his tail down – I’m unsure whether it was because of the heat or the Brush High School band playing at full volume behind us – but he soldiered on like a champion and took a long nap that afternoon.

My review of Contact

Contact is the most satisfying science fiction movie of the 1990s. It avoids the pitfalls of being a shoot 'em up like Starship Troopers, or being coldly intellectual like 2001. It is also one of those rare movies that gives the scientific aspect of the script proper respect, without being pedantic or sacrificing character development.


Read my whole review, with Blu-ray update