The Final Frontier, Episode 1: 'Star Trek: The Motion Picture'

Update: I originally posted this in... like... October or something ridiculously long  ago, but when I was adding tags, it somehow got moved to the top. Sorry, I have no idea how the frak to fix it. :(

A few weeks ago, I bought the Blu-Ray box set of the movies from Star Trek: The Original Series. I'm inching my way through the actual series and have some ideas for blog posts there (that "Corbomite Maneuver" episode is SO RIPE for identity and international relations theory, and the draft has been sitting here for over three months...), but I thought I'd do some reviews/overthinkings of the movies as I go through them. Because, to my shame, I've never seen any of them all the way  through; or if I did, I was so little, I'll basically be watching them for the first time. My method will be taking little notes in a Word document as the movie is playing, then going back to them to try and get some themes and philosophizing out of the movies in something more orderly than, essentially, live-Tweeting or some kinda jazz. If anyone is interested in me live-Tweeting any movies, be they  these or others, though, since I'm not entirely terrible at peanut-gallery-ing, give me some suggestions/requests in the comments. (Just know that if it's not on Netflix, I'd of course need to have my own copy in order for that to work.)

Today's film  is Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

To get started, three things in the pre-movie phase. First, way too many previews, Paramount. Seriously, I watched almost an entire episode of Crash Course: U.S. History during the previews. Get it together.

Second, I'm curious as to who this woman on the poster is. Can't say I'm familiar with her off the top of my head, but I'm vaguely aware of much of the mythos and whatnot of the Star Trek universe, so mayhap it'll come back to me. If not, oh well. Although I gotta say, this speaks to the whole "pioneering" aspect of the original series, and I don't mean in the space-exploration sense, but with respect to women  and people of color actually having important roles in a series. Yay Roddenbery. 

Third, um, why the  heck is the theme to The Next Generation playing for the menu screen? This movie is about Kirk, not Picard. Who the frak packaged these??????

Okay. So a quick Wikisearch teaches me that Jerry Goldsmith composed the music, and  it was remixed to serve as the theme to Next Gen. Cool beans- I like his soundtracks a lot. 

So the not-so-thoughtful reflection is that the movie could probably have been at least twenty minutes shorter because of all of the sweeping shots of the Enterprise and the ship it encounters. Lens flares are to the reboot what pan-shots of ships are to this one. 

Now more importantly, I see two major themes or conflicts in this  movie. The first and central one for most of the time is the classic Old v. New one. It involves the now-Admiral Kirk and the current captain of the Enterprise, a young man named Decker whom Kirk had personally recommended to take over the ship. As this conflict usually goes, the previous person in charge "has" to take over (by asserting some area of expertise the  young upstart doesn't have- in this case, "five years' space exploration"  or something along those lines; as in, "I've been to space more. Neener.")- so literally the old person  pulling seniority- but they  aren't familiar with how things have changed since the last time they were around. Naturally, there comes a moment  when Kirk's unfamiliarity with how the electronics and power on the ship have been changed, and he gives a command that, if executed, would have blown up the ship- and Decker's intervention saves everyone. This pisses Kirk off, until Decker explains, but the older man soon throws a tantrum and it takes Bones being, as usual, the conduit for exposition, to state it pretty plainly- Kirk is somewhat obsessed with the Enterprise and it makes him dangerous to have at the helm. 

I did see this conflict extend more, though- Spock sort of gives Decker a hard time, too, and whether that's the bromance between him and Kirk, or you know, it's not, I'm not sure, but I think  this helps set up the choice Decker makes in the end  of the movie. He's the new guy, and with Spock's arrival, even though Decker is quite pleased to have him aboard (because it seems Spock has kept up-to-date with the evolution of Starfleet technology, unlike, I dunno, the rest of the gorram original crew that is somehow still on board), Decker's position on the ship is entirely unnecessary and obsolete. Which is ironic, as he's the new guy. But Spock has that unique position of bringing with him the knowledge of the new while the experience and connection of the old. So what can Decker do? He likely could have gone back to Starfleet and captained another ship, oh sure, but I doubt that would have been satisfactory. 

And this touches on all kinds of human institutions and organizations. There are whole theories of bureaucracy about how old fuddy-duddies (called "conservers") resist change and resent the young whipper-snappers that come in and want to "improve" things. But it doesn't need to be a formal institution for this sort of dynamic to present itself. I think we've probably all experienced it at some point, generally.

But specifically, consider that the main changes didn't have to do with protocol per se, but rather the technology on the Enterprise and how the different systems on board interact and make the whole ship run. Kirk's problem wasn't that he didn't understand Starfleet, or even how operations on his former ship would go on a normal day. His problem was that he was unaware of the evolution of the technologies used on the Enterprise. Meanwhile, younger members of Starfleet were being trained in the new technologies. He had no idea that a small change in how energy gets filtered through the ship could lead to catastrophic results if the systems on the ship were used the same way. No clue.

I think this is pretty apt for comparison to how quickly technology changes, how large those changes can be, and how easy it is to not realize technology has evolved so much so quickly. I'm guessing most (if not all) people reading this are under forty. It's the 25-35s I'm going to aim this particular part at, because  I feel like people within that age range are more like Spock (or a combination of him and Kirk); people older than that are like Kirk; and our younger siblings, cousins, etc. are like Decker. See, people in their early twenties or younger are growing up in a time where having the Internet on your phone is everyday and expected, not special. People around my age are young enough to get it and incorporate it without much hassle, but we very distinctly remember  when  stuff like that was a surprise or something exceptionally special- we prolly even remember a time when a CAR phone was amazing, let alone a mobile. And our parents? They remember a time before the Internet was available even at the home, let alone on a mobile telephonic devise. And it can be really hard for this last group to adapt sometimes because  as they do things the way they're used to, they don't realize things are being done entirely differently all around them.

I don't intend to sound like my generation is the most important in a normative sense, but I think it's our duty to sort of attempt to be like a combination of Bones and Spock. The latter does sort of give Decker  a rough time a little, but he also is able to adapt and understand the technologies that have developed since he  left the Enterprise  (and  this is from Vulcan, might I add). Meanwhile, Bones acted as the expository voice of reason with Kirk, reminding him he needs to cool his jets and give Decker (read: new technology) an honest chance. And importantly, Bones reminded Kirk that his  behavior is, at the very least self-destructive; at worst, it's threatening to everyone around him.

And there's an unfortunate truth to that today for people that don't digitize, use cell phones, etc. Setting aside the rather crude and mean treatment you may get if you don't have a cell phone (which, no, I don't agree with), there are strategic disadvantages to not having the Internet at least within the home: most job applications are online now; banks and insurance companies insist on using email and digital account services; utilities and housing properties prefer digital statements to paper; etc. And Word Processors and/or email addresses are required for a lot of parts of job applications, for college papers and requirements (like signing up for classes, accepting financial aid, etc.); and we often need a computer/printer for printing things at home, like boarding passes, tickets to events, or coupons. While sure, a body could go to the library to use the Internet (and the library printer, if necessary) for any  of these things, the time and inconvenience it would entail to make an outing of every attempt to handle your finances or get a coupon would be staggering.  And sure, some people may manage their study time better if they could only do it at a library, but what about things like  course registration, where there's only a specific period in which they can do it, and the time they'd lose getting to a library?

And personal inconvenience gets in the way, too. Since cell phones are so ruddy popular, the instinct  for a lot of people is  to expect the other person to use a GPS program in a smart phone, to text an address or date/time of some event, to have someone call from a specific destination in order to confirm a timeframe or "the plan," as it were, or to "check in" easier as they're out and about to keep someone concerned about them up-to-speed*. It's just kind of expected that people have cell phones today, and whether that's good or bad isn't the issue, it's the fact that society is structured that way. It wasn't like that even ten years ago, when I was still in high school; but my sister that graduated last year is too young to remember when it wasn't weird to be cell-phone-less. 

So it's in the best interest of generations not used to the digitization to try to adapt. But it's sometimes difficult to understand this. And I find younger people that have never known a world without cell phones and home Internet  have trouble explaining this to people that don't get it, and they're kind of unable to help directly, however much they may want to. So it's sort of up to the people in the middle to help out and foster adaptation and understanding as technologies evolve.

And that leads into the second major theme, one that actually doesn't really show up until the last twenty minutes (less, even) of the movie. It'd be lamesauce  to go after that female I mentioned before, Ilia, because hers is a pretty generic "consciousness" thing- she gets killed,  then a copy of her, with all of her memories, gets sent to the ship. Battlestar Galactica goes after that pretty much the. entire. series.

No, what I want to get at is the evolution of humans as a species. Because remember when I said Decker  "makes  a choice"? He chooses to merge himself  with a living machine, what he, Kirk, Bones, and Spock (again, through blatant  expository dialogue) come to realize is the Voyager 6 satalite (a made-up edition to the real-life Voyager program)- it conveniently got sucked into a wormhole at some point, was shat out near some organic robots that found it and gave it their own, organic technology, then shot back toward Earth. 

Now I talked before about the evolution of technology, but what happens when that gets combined with evolutionary biology? The dudes on the Enterprise, with yet another hammer of un-subtlety, muse about whether they witnessed the "birth of a new species," and it makes me wonder, what's the line between human and not-human? And this is different from the question in BSG- it's the reverse. The conflict in BSG is about what it takes to be human; I think Star Trek asks what it takes to be  not human. 

(Sidenote, and minor SPOILERS for BSG in this parenthetical aside: I'll admit, okay? This sort of does come up in the last few episodes. As the ship is literally falling apart, as in there are cracks within the hull, Adama decides to incorporate Cylon, organic technology into the hull to try and keep it together; the conflict there was, basically, "You're turning Galactica into a Cylon!" as in, "By adding these little blobs of organic goo to the cracks, you're changing the thing SO MUCH I CAN'T EVEN CONSIDER IT A BATTLESTAR ANY MORE!" And the answer never becomes entirely clear: Adama does it anyway, in order to save the ship and the people on-board, and I'm never under the impression he thinks Galactica isn't Galactica any longer, but he's one of the people against using the gel stuff in the first place, and once done, it gets conveniently not-dealt-with because of Reasons and Plot and Things.)

Because a new species when he entered the shining white light?

So this is human

but this isn't

Kirk says something about V'Ger, the Voyager-now-living thing, being able to have a "sense of purpose" now that Decker has merged with  it. Okay, cool, but what constitutes this being a new species entirely? Usually that "sense of purpose" would be the criteria for counting as human  in a sci-fi flick. 

I guess, perhaps, and I'm no evolutionary biologist, but perhaps this is because of how the whole "gene pool" thing works, and how cross-breeding leads to new things? Because eventually, the DNA gets different enough and it's a new species, right? But take plants for example, or better yet, apples. I love me some apples. Take a look at these:

Yum.

These are all apples, right? But they're the result of specific breeding to create deliberate alterations in the offspring of the "parent" apples that were cross-bred together. A red apple gets mated with a green one, and you get a yellow one (maybe- this is hypothetical, you get the  gist). But the yellow one is still an apple.

Or when people of different races make babies, those babies are still human. That's not up for debate, either. Even the racist biologists in the  nineteenth century  thought different races were human, even if the differences were used as justification for colonization, slavery, etc. 

So if humans were able to merge our DNA with technology somehow, would that mean we were no longer, biologically speaking, human any longer? How many chromosomes or helixes or whatever in our genetic make-up would have to change before we were no longer human?

I mean, maybe that's why Darth is still a human- he lost his legs (and arms, and lungs, and part of his face, and prolly some other stuff...), but his DNA didn't alter. We don't really get to know what happens to Decker himself, but the last time we see him, he's staring at Ilia's double with lovey-dovey eyes, and I think we're supposed to be under the impression he lives on within V'Ger itself. So then, uh, would the resultant babies be the offspring Bones so terribly  jokes about "delivering"**?

I guess I find the conclusion that Decker's merging with V'Ger creates a whole new species troubling. Because being human is more than just biology. You know, that whole "human experience" thing? Yeah, it's pretty speceist, I'll admit. But why exclude an entity that was the result of the merging of an undisputed human with something else from humanity?

And what was the reason for that merging, anyway? You could say it was because, as stated before, Decker didn't see much of a future for himself on the Enterprise. But beyond that, his act saved the whole friggin' planet Earth. V'Ger was about to destroy it. It was an act of love, compassion, and sacrifice- some of the "defining" characteristics of humanity. I'd feel safe and secure being around a hybrid like Decker. 

I'd say Decker and any offspring from his merging with V'Ger would be leaps and bounds more human than Darth Cheney. 

Scary-ass shit, right?

*I also think  of cell phones as a potential increase in safety. For example, if you're on a long trip  and the car breaks down,  you don't have to rely on the graciousness of others in order to get help- you can call for it (barring you have the  bars), rather  than wait for someone to let you hitch a ride. If something bad does happen to you and you have your phone, the authorities can use that to figure out who you are and maybe  even trace your last steps (and this  isn't to say your ID won't help, but if your ID is missing, it's of no use; and your ID isn't going to clue them in on your last conversation). But  this  whole  "safety" thing isn't really the "everybody has a cell phone" culture, though, it's more like one of the externalities of that culture. 

**I blocked the joke word-for-word out of  my memory because it was so bad, but there was definitely something about "delivering" in there that just... I mean... UGH.

The Final Frontier, Episode 2: 'Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan'

As I said last time I watched one of these, I'm a Star Trek fan that has never seen the movies from the original series all the way through. So forewarning, SPOILERS, duh. But if you didn't know this one, well, yeesh. 

And that leads me to something I'll admit now, as I get this ready (the menu screen is on right now). I'm nervous about this one. This is the only movie from TOS I've ever heard of people (that aren't rabid fans with no ability to criticize their fandom) genuinely liking and wanting to watch over and over again. I basically know what's going to happen already, because most people do- I don't remember a time where I didn't know Spock gets offed by Khan somehow, and I know this Khan is unnerving to watch because he's so manipulative- not scary or intimidating, but his presence is (supposedly) unsettling. And what's more, I'm also living in a post-J.J. Abrams world. Meaning I've seen Sher-khan and know some of the switcheroos Abrams  did. 

I'll do my best not to let all of that influence me in my viewing, but I'm only human, so we'll see. 

(LOL, it's PG, eh?)

General, not-so-in-depth thoughts: It  didn't feel nearly as long as the first one, and I was actually interested in what was going on a lot more this time,  too. 

Also, I think I need to add Ricardo Mantalban to my "Sexy Old Guy" list:

I had the overwhelming urge to purr  a few times
when he was onscreen. And it wasn't in the
cutsie way, either. Ahem.

OKay, so it took me a while (and it was really hard not to cheat and read the Wiki article) to come up with some ideas on what to say. But I was able to pick up on some themes, and I think it's useful to do some comparison to the first film, too. 

Once again, we have the seasoned members of the Enterprise crew being contrasted with the new up-and-comings in Starfleet, but it plays out differently here. In the first film, the old crew had been off the Enterprise and was unfamiliar with the upgrades and updates, so there was tension when the younger generation was trying to point that out. This time, the older generation is on the ship with a bunch of newbies in the form of teacher-student: They get on the ship at the beginning of the film to do a training excursion with some new cadets, with Spock as the intended captain and Kirk sort of overseeing things, as he's been promoted to admiral by now. Spock hands over the captainship to Kirk because Plot, but once he takes the chair, he's infinitely more genial and understanding with Kirstie Alley's character, Liutenant Saavik. It's obvious Spock likes her/thinks she has promise, and I think Kirk picks up on that and thus seems to want to mentor her more than give her crap like he did Decker in the first movie.

For starters, the movie opens with Saavik as "captain" during the Kobayashi Maru simulation (also shown in Abrams's movies), the unwinnable scenario that Kirk is the only cadet to have actually won because he messed with the programming. I think watching her frustration when it's over leads to Kirk seeing himself in her, because her reaction to the simulation is pretty much his feeling in general: She admits she doesn't like no-win situations, and she thinks it's bullshit that they'd have a test with no possible success. He gives her some words of wisdom about how the way we face death is as important as how we face life and that she needs to keep in mind that as a captain, she may face situations where there really isn't a good choice, just a less-bad one. And not too long later, there's a role-reversal between movies when at first, she tries to remind Kirk of regulations and Spock basically tells her to shut up, but Kirk ends up telling her to keep on quoting regulation with a pretty big smirk after they encounter Khan (because if he had done what regulation said and as she had tried to remind him, they may not have been hit by Khan's commandeered Starfleet vessel). In the last movie, Spock would defend the youngsters and Kirk would puff  his chest and keep attacking them (mainly Decker); this time, not so much.

I also had no idea this was her first role.
Whoa.

So this movie gives us some insight into the growth and, well, aging of Kirk. He gets reading glasses as a gift from Bones, and he says more  than once that he's feeling old. Especially when it comes to his son, David, that he (I think, anyway) meets for the first time during this movie. He's aged not just in years but in experiences- more than one character references how long ago the first encounter with Khan was, but Kirk bemoans how he could have had a completely different life with Carol Marcus, David's mother, and David, and he basically ends it with, "But I'm an old man now." And there's a great moment where he and Spock are talking, and the latter says it was a mistake for Kirk to accept the admiralship, since its nature is more sedentary than being a captain.

But his willingness to try to teach Saavik speaks volumes to how he's grown up- instead of petulantly insisting he's right, he responds with life lessons and even accepting when he's wrong, and, further, indicating he acknowledges how she is the one that was right. And the way he embraces his son at the end also says  to me he's accepted his age. Petulant Kirk would have tried to push  him away, but Wiser Kirk realizes he made a mistake in not being a part of David's life, and he wants to make up for that (or, at least, that's what it looks like to me). 

And there's the theme of Narcissism v. Sacrifice, made pretty clear through the two books featured. Kirk keeps hauling around a huge-ass copy of A Tale of Two Cities (he even shoves it in Uhura's hands at one point, "Here, woman, hold this for me," ugh), while Khan has a bunch of books in his little shack, but Moby Dick is the center of the shot. Both men end up quoting their respective books at the end. I had to look it up (because I thought it was Shakespeare), but Khan  quotes captain Ahab as he's dying, repeating the last lines Ahab  says  as he goes after the whale. Ahab was willing to let his entire crew die in his blind pursuit of the whale. Similarly, when Khan's own crew member  reminds him they have a ship and can go anywhere, Khan insists they go after Kirk. And in the end, everybody with Khan dies, including  Khan himself. 

But here's the foil: It's not really Kirk being contrasted with Khan, it's Spock, at least up to the very end. Spock says earlier in the movie and then as he's dying that "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one." And that death is one of sacrifice- just like the dude Kirk ends up quoting, Sydney Carter in A Tale of Two Cities and that famous, "It is a far, far better thing that I do now..." speech. Kirk quotes that as a sendoff to Spock, his friend that sacrificed himself for the sake of the ship, after also saying, "Of all the souls I've encountered in my travels, his was the most human." And the last shot of the movie  is of Spock's coffin. I think that's a biiiig deal! I think the point of all that is to show how Kirk learned so much from Spock. And yeah, this relates to the age thing- Kirk is growing up and takes the lesson learned from Spock to heart. Because Kirk realizes how shitty reality is: That it takes the death of his dearest friend for him to realize he's been an arrogant prat over and over again in the past, and that Spock's "humanity" kept him grounded; Kir's inability to keep that utilitarian perspective in the forefront got them into trouble before. And while no, his own narcissism isn't what killed Spock, it was the kind he himself could develop if he isn't careful. 

It takes my bff dying for me to actually "get it."

So in the end, it is a contrast between Khan and Kirk, because Kirk realizes he could become that. And he knows he can't let that happen. His sendoff to Spock is also a promise to adopt Spock's utilitarian outlook. And I think that's an amazing character development- one of the most annoying things about TOS is Kirk- his arrogance  gets so fucking grating. It's sucky that it takes Spock's death for there to be genuine hope for that to change, but I anticipate Kirk will be a better person in the next movies, and I'm looking forward to watching  them.

I'm also going to push a different contrast between Khan and Kirk, and it's that of familial loyalty. Khan seems dangerously calm most of the time, but he gets scariest when he recalls how his wife died on the planet he'd been marooned on. He brings her up more than once, and every time he does it, there's so much pain and anger, and he makes it clear he blames Kirk for her death. So it wasn't the marooning that made him want to "hurt" Kirk, as that wasn't what really "hurt" Khan- his worst pain comes from the death of his wife. His love and devotion to her turns into a quest for vengeance against the person he blames for her death.

Kirk, meanwhile, gets presented with one of the like bazillion women he had an affair with, Carol, and even the son that came out of that relationship. And he had abandoned them. What's weird is there's no reference to David being his son except for that one conversation with Carol- Kirk never says anything about wanting to save his family, and while  he seems ashamed of having ditched Carol, his concern for her and David is entirely professional: He's the admiral that has to go rescue some researchers; the fact that those researchers are the mother of his child and that very same child... ain't no thang.

And when I think about that in conjunction with Khan... I feel for Khan. A lot. I'd say  that gives Khan a pretty "human soul," too, and Kirk's is kind of disturbingly cold. If he even has one- he's like Sam when  he comes back from Hell (Supernatural reference). Kirk chose to abandon Carol and David, and the realization he has after Spock dies, I hope, means he'll try to be a father to David. Not necessarily that he'd marry Carol, too, but that he'll at least become a part of his own son's life. THAT would really demonstrate some growth and growing up on Kirk's part. We'll see. 

Was anybody surprised Kirk was an absent father, though?
I sure as Hell wasn't.

This relates to my final note. I have a friend that's a fellow nerd, but pretty much the only thing we agree on in Nerddom is that Batman is the best comic character. One thing he said ages ago and repeated recently is this: That Abrams didn't need to use Khan in Into Darkness, and the movie would likely have been better if he had just let Benedict Cumberbatch play an original villain. After seeing this movie, I think I can add that assessment as the second thing this friend and I agree on when it comes to pop culture. The personal vendetta Khan has against Kirk in STII somewhat more meaningful than the motivation of Abrams's version, or it at least sets things up in a more sinister way- in the original, Khan wants Kirk; in the remake, Khan is using Kirk/ has to go through him/deal with him to destroy Starfleet. There's a huge difference, and it changes the stakes. I think Abrams tries to compensate for that by having his Khan protecting his family, as in all the frozen bodies. And while that does make his Khan exceptionally sympathetic, the lack of personal connection between him and Kirk in that version doesn't make it as powerful. And it removes a means of comparison between the two, even though I feel like my favorite villain-hero dynamics usually involve parallels and contrasts. 

I'll say this, I do feel like I did this wrong. I should have watched the Khan stuff from the series. They did a good job filling the audience in, but it probably  would have been even better if I had known the details. I liked this one much more than  the first, though. Keep your eyes out for the next installation.