Sunday, August 21, 2011

STAR TREK THROUGH FRESH EYES, PART SIX

It was Star Trek: The Motion Picture that really sparked my interest in all things Star Trek. But it was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan that made me a die-hard, passionate fan.


As with The Motion Picture, my older sister took me to see Star Trek II. And I was quite simply blown away. Just like I was when I saw The Empire Strikes Back for the first time. (Both films still rank as my two all-time favorites.) I loved the movie, and went back to see it several more times that summer. It fired my imagination on a profound level, and from that point on, it became a goal of mine to somehow contribute creatively to the Star Trek mythos, whether in the form of novels or comic books or maybe, if I was really, really lucky, an actual movie. It took a long time, but I finally got my wish in 1998 with Star Trek: Untold Voyages, a limited series I conceived and wrote for Marvel Comics. Several years later, I wrote a pair of Star Trek novellas for Simon and Schuster’s e-book line. (Still hope to write a full-length novel someday. A movie seems less likely.) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan was—and continues to be—a major influence on me, and an endless source of inspiration. Fortunately, I was able to tell its writer/director that in person. He seemed to appreciate it.

Needless to say, I was very excited about the prospect of watching this movie with my eight-year-old daughter Maddie. After watching Seasons One, Two, and Three of the original TV series, all 22 episodes of the animated series, and Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Maddie is now very well-versed in Star Trek lore. She knows and loves the characters—particularly Spock and Dr. McCoy—and is always eager to see their next adventure. It took a lot of effort, but I was able to keep Maddie from finding out anything crucial about Star Trek II before we sat down to watch it. I wanted her to go into it with absolutely no foreknowledge, so that she could experience it with absolutely fresh eyes and be shocked, startled, surprised, and emotionally moved at the appropriate moments. It was worth the effort…

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan


Admiral James T. Kirk, now stationed on Earth and an instructor at Starfleet Academy, is dissatisfied with his career and in the midst of a mid-life crisis when he goes aboard the Enterprise to oversee a training cruise under the command of Captain Spock. Meanwhile, the notorious genetically-engineered superhuman, Khan Noonien Singh, manages to seize control of the Federation starship U.S.S. Reliant and escape from the planet Ceti Alpha V, where Kirk had exiled him 15 years earlier. Now free to go anywhere he wants in the galaxy, the obsessed Khan chooses to track down Kirk and take revenge for his long and painful imprisonment—and to get his hands on a top-secret scientific project called Genesis, which has the power to create life from lifelessness… or to bring about vast cosmic destruction. During this crisis, Kirk finds himself challenged by Spock’s ambitious young female protégée, the half-Vulcan/half-Romulan Lieutenant Saavik—and wondering if he’s lost his edge as a starship commander. He must also confront some important unfinished business from his past, involving an old flame, Dr. Carol Marcus, and her son David, both of whom helped create Genesis. And with Khan’s relentless quest for vengeance comes a staggering loss for Kirk and the entire crew of the Enterprise.               

It’s my opinion that Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan is the best Star Trek movie ever made. It’s certainly not without flaws, but those imperfections are completely overshadowed by the good stuff, of which there is an overwhelming amount. (And by the way—I don’t consider Khan and Chekov remembering each other to be one of the flaws. It’s true that Chekov wasn’t in “Space Seed,” a first-season episode, because Walter Koenig did not join the cast until Season Two. But just because Chekov was never seen before the second season doesn’t mean he wasn’t serving aboard the Enterprise during that time. So it was absolutely reasonable to establish retroactively that Chekov and Khan had crossed paths—albeit offscreen—during “Space Seed.” I even tackled this matter head-on in Star Trek: Untold Voyages #4, and I still get praise for my handling of it to this day.)

Using Star Trek: The Motion Picture as an example of what not to do, director Nicholas Meyer (who also wrote the screenplay, though he didn’t receive a screen credit for it) and executive producer/co-writer Harve Bennett set out to, among other things, restore humanity and warmth to the crew of the Enterprise. As much as I like The Motion Picture, I acknowledge that the characters are, for the most part, presented as very stiff, formal, and reserved. They lack a lot of the charm and likeability that was so prominent in the original TV series. But with Star Trek II, Meyer and Bennett more or less restore the characters while accounting for the fact that they’ve gotten older and gone through some changes in their lives. Nowhere is this more evident than with Admiral Kirk. He’s the Kirk we remember from the old days, but now with a lot of mileage on him. He’s grown lonely and wistful. And without his starship to command, he’s unhappy, even a little embittered. Sadly, he seems resigned to his fate, unsure of how to change his situation. McCoy and Spock separately chide him for giving up the Enterprise again and both advise him to get back to doing what he does best. This kind of character stuff could have easily been a big part of The Motion Picture—Kirk started out in that movie too as an Admiral stuck on Earth and unhappy in his job. But The Motion Picture was more about ideas and special effects than it was about people. Nicholas Meyer has stated on numerous occasions that he wasn’t interested in making a movie about spaceships—but he was interested in making a movie about the people who live and work aboard them.          

As much as I hate to say it, it turned out that one of the best things Paramount Pictures did for Star Trek II—and for the Star Trek movie series in general—was remove creator Gene Roddenberry from the driver’s seat, make him a relatively toothless “Executive Consultant,” and put Harve Bennett in charge. Roddenberry’s overall vision for Star Trek had so changed by the late 1970s/early 1980s that it didn’t much resemble the show that millions of people had fallen in love with in the first place. 1979’s The Motion Picture, which is not remembered fondly by most people, is the only one that Roddenberry worked on directly and influenced in a big a way. He later applied his revised vision to the TV series Star Trek: The Next Generation, which he developed and oversaw directly in its early years. Apparently, the ideal Star Trek for the older Roddenberry entailed flawless, bland, stuffy, bloviating protagonists and their talk-filled—often action-free—quest to spread political correctness across the galaxy.

(Incidentally, Roddenberry’s big story idea for Star Trek II was that the crew would go back in time and get involved in the JFK assassination. As Harve Bennett pointed out, we already know the outcome, so where’s the suspense? It’s not like Kirk and crew are going to save JFK and allow history to be altered. Also, this story—at least the main thrust of it—was more or less done already, in a little ditty called “The City on the Edge of Forever.”) 

Bennett, who took over Star Trek as a total newcomer with little background knowledge of it, wisely sat down and watched all 79 episodes of the original TV series over several months to gain a full understanding of the characters and the universe they inhabit. He ended up embracing the canon, the continuity, and the history, instead of trying to distance himself from it. And he came away from the experience recognizing “Space Seed”—and Ricardo Montalban’s Khan—as the perfect sources for a new story. 

Meyer, who came into the job with even less knowledge about Star Trek than Bennett had at first, is, without a doubt, the person most responsible for the creative success of Star Trek II. His script is wonderful and, as director, he managed to get pitch-perfect performances out of everyone in the cast—particularly and most significantly, William Shatner and Ricardo Montalban.

In fact, I will go out on a limb and say that this is Shatner’s very best performance as James Kirk. Hell, it may be his very best performance PERIOD. 


As for Montalban, it’s important to note that at that point in his career, he was best known as Mr. Roarke from Fantasy Island. A lot of people went into Star Trek II snickering and planning to make jokes about Tattoo and “de plane.” After 
Montalban’s first couple of seconds on screen, any snickering and joking ceased. There’s no denying that Khan remains the best, most memorable villain in ANY Star Trek movie, and Montalban’s performance is one for the ages. 


Leonard Nimoy portrays Spock, now captain of the Enterprise, as very much at peace with himself and comfortable with his place in the universe. Presumably, Nimoy used Spock’s character arc in The Motion Picture as the foundation for this revised approach. It was in The Motion Picture that Spock finally recognized the value of his human half and embraced it. Nimoy’s performance in Star Trek II is a natural extension of that character development, and it’s wonderful. Spock’s role in this film is not quite as prominent as it was in The Motion Picture—there’s no real character arc for him, but he does introduce one of the main themes of the story and brings that theme to its ultimate culmination in the closing minutes.


As Dr. McCoy, DeForest Kelley has more to do here than he did the first time around—and once again, he’s one of the best things in the movie. He’s cranky, sarcastic, brutally honest, irreverent, and someone you can absolutely count on in a crisis. He’s also responsible for some of the film’s funniest moments—one of which Kelley supposedly ad-libbed on the spot. (Kirk is about to beam down into a hazardous area with McCoy and Saavik. Spock says, “Jim… be careful.” McCoy fires back at him, “We will!”)   


Speaking of Saavik, casting Kirstie Alley to play her was a great move on Meyer’s part. She’s totally believable as a Vulcan/Romulan hybrid who’s not quite in control of her emotions, and she’s incredibly sexy. This was Alley’s movie debut, and she made quite an impression. Hell, if Nimoy decided never to come back as Spock after this, I think I could have lived with Alley’s Saavik as his permanent replacement.


Bibi Besch’s Dr. Carol Marcus and Merritt Butrick as her son David are welcome new additions to the Star Trek universe. You can totally understand why Kirk would have once fallen for Carol, and David looks and acts exactly like what you’d expect from their offspring. (Sadly, both Besch and Butrick are no longer with us. I particularly would have liked to see Besch again as Carol, but unfortunately, it just wasn’t in the cards.)



Paul Winfield is quite memorable as Captain Clark Terrell of the U.S.S. Reliant—a relatively small role, but an important one. In his small amount of screen time, Winfield gives us a character who manages to come off as likable, slightly mischievous, noble, and, ultimately, tragic. You can’t help but feel sorry for this guy. (Alas, Winfield too is no longer with us.)


In terms of the regular supporting cast, the only one who really gets to shine this time out is Walter Koenig as Chekov. This is Koenig’s meatiest, most important role in a Star Trek movie (though he does have some great stuff in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home), and he carries himself well. He’s got very good chemistry with Winfield and Montalban. (NOTE: The special edition Director’s Cut, only available on DVD and the version that I watched with Maddie, features some additional footage with Scotty that gives James Doohan a chance to stretch his acting muscles more than usual and establishes that Cadet Peter Preston, Scotty’s young assistant in the engineering section, is also his nephew.)


I also have to mention the score by James Horner. As disappointed as I was initially that composer Jerry Goldsmith did not return, Horner’s music for Star Trek II is nothing short of triumphant. It won me over immediately and I still adore it to this day. Particularly impressive is how Horner brings back Alexander Courage’s iconic “Star Trek Fanfare” from the original TV series and weaves it throughout the movie, marrying it organically to his own compositions.

And in addition to a new musical score, the film also introduced new Starfleet uniforms–another change I accepted wholeheartedly. They were quite a departure from anything that had come before, but they looked fantastic and I felt they fit in well with the Star Trek universe. With some minor modifications here and there, these uniforms were used for the remainder of the Star Trek movies featuring the original cast. (I do have to admit, though, that I liked the outfits from the first movie a lot and was bummed out when I first learned they were being dropped!)


And how about that ending, huh? In all seriousness, I believe that the death of Spock is one of the best death scenes ever filmed. It hits all the right emotional and dramatic beats. This was a death that was heroic, noble, powerful, and deeply moving. (Which puts it in sharp contrast with Kirk’s death in 1994’s Star Trek Generations, written and produced by key members of the Next Generation team.) In fact, Spock’s death was so well done that director Bryan Singer lifted it almost verbatim for the climax of X-Men 2.


There were rumors leading up to the June 4, 1982 release of the film that Spock was going to die, so I knew it was at least a possibility. (I didn’t think they’d actually go through with it, though!) In that regard, I had a distinct advantage over Maddie, who totally didn’t see it coming. Like I said, I did everything I could to keep her from finding out about it ahead of time, so that her reaction would be natural, genuine, and influenced by nothing but the film itself.

And while I’m on the subject of Spock’s death, another mark of this film’s greatness is that despite the profound sadness of its conclusion, it nevertheless manages to sign off on a hopeful, thoroughly tantalizing note—one that quite literally ensured the future of Star Trek.

I could go on and on about this movie, as you can probably imagine by now, but it’s time for Maddie to weigh in…

MADDIE: “This was better than the first one! There was more action.

“The battle scenes were exciting. I liked the special effects—they made everything look real.

“The music in this one sounded a lot like the music from the TV show.

“I think the new uniforms are better than the ones from The Motion Picture.

“I wish Kirk’s hair looked like it did on the TV show.

“I think Kirk is better as a captain than as an admiral. Spock was right to tell him that.

“It was a big surprise when I found out that Kirk had a son. They barely knew each other. At the end, they don’t even really know how to hug each other! Their hug was very loose and awkward.

“I liked learning that Kirk cheated to beat the Kobayashi Maru test and got a commendation for original thinking. And I really liked when Kirk said, ‘I don’t like to lose’ and bit into the apple!

“Khan got old! And he got meaner! He was more violent. He was really thinking about himself and he wanted to get Kirk so bad that he would do anything. He was really insane in this one. It made me wonder why Kirk never checked up on Khan and his people after leaving them on that planet.

“I thought we were going to see Marla McGivers (Khan’s love interest from “Space Seed”) again. I was surprised to find out that she died.

“I was surprised that Chekov was on a different ship. I liked how he started saying, ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ once he saw the belt buckle that said, ‘S.S. Botany Bay.’ He knew what that meant!

“Those little eels that Khan had—very gross! My ears hurt because Chekov and Captain Terrell were screaming at the top of their lungs when the eels crawled into their ears!

“McCoy hasn’t changed one bit. He’s still his old funny, frustrated self. He had so many funny lines! ‘Who’s been holding up the damned elevator?’ ‘Well, I’ve got Sickbay ready—now will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ ‘Are you out of your Vulcan mind?’ ‘You green-blooded, inhuman…!’

“Saavik was very close to Spock. I hope to see her in the next movie. It seemed like she had a lot more to learn and that she would be a good part of the crew. When she was doing the Kobayashi Maru test, I thought she did a very good job for a first-timer. And I liked her reaction when she found out that Kirk had cheated on the test.

“I think Carol Marcus is the blond girl that Gary Mitchell set Kirk up with when they were at the Academy together. Kirk almost married her! (NOTE: This was all mentioned in the TV episode “Where No Man Has Gone Before.”) It was nice to finally see her. I’d like to know more about her and her son David.

“I liked seeing Scotty’s nephew, but I’m sorry I won’t get to see him in the next movie because he died in the battle. But I thought it was very weird that he didn’t have a Scottish accent!”

“I liked how Spock got promoted to captain of the Enterprise. He was more human in this one. He told Kirk that he would always be Kirk’s friend.

“What happened to Spock at the end was very, very sad. I felt, if he dies, the whole show goes with him! It was very sad when Spock said, ‘Live long and prosper’ to Kirk and put his hand on the glass. What Kirk said at the funeral was very touching—but I didn’t hear all of it because I was crying so hard.

“If it was Dr. McCoy who died, I’d be crying for days!

“If Genesis makes dead things alive, maybe Spock has a chance of coming back. I’d like the next movie to show them finding Spock alive and everything’s normal again. But I think that having Spock do the ‘Space, the final frontier’ thing instead of Kirk at the end of the movie is like a final farewell from Spock.

“The only bad thing about this movie—I wanted to see them in battle with the Klingons!

The Wrath of Khan had nothing to do with The Motion Picture—Decker, Ilia, and V’Ger weren’t mentioned once. But I hope that the next movie has a lot to do with The Wrath of Khan.”

COMING SOON: The next movie!

© All content copyright Glenn Greenberg, 2011.

Friday, August 12, 2011

RE: MARK


August 12, 2011 marks the 15th anniversary of the death of Mark Gruenwald. Mark, as most longtime comic-book fans know, was a writer and editor at Marvel Comics for nearly 20 years. His accomplishments were many, and his memory lives on for his many fans and friends. I proudly place myself in both of those categories.

As an editor, Mark (or “Grueny,” as he was known around the office) guided such classic runs as the Walt Simonson period of THOR and the Roger Stern/John Buscema/Tom Palmer era of THE AVENGERS—just to name a couple. As a writer, he was responsible for the landmark SQUADRON SUPREME limited series and a 10-year-long, fondly remembered, groundbreaking tenure on CAPTAIN AMERICA. Again, that’s barely scratching the surface. Mark was also second-in-command to Tom DeFalco, Marvel’s Editor in Chief from 1987 to 1995, as well as Continuity Cop for the Marvel Universe. That’s a damn impressive resume, to be sure. And I think it was because of all those accomplishments, and the degree of respect that Mark had achieved (and earned) from staffers and freelancers alike by the time I arrived at Marvel in July 1992, that made me feel a bit intimidated by him in my early days there.

Mark certainly hadn’t done anything in particular to make me feel intimidated. That was more DeFalco’s modus operandi (Hi, Tom!). The fact is, at the time, I was a bit intimidated by pretty much anyone in authority, and by that time in Marvel’s history, Gru was definitely high up in authority. Adding to it was the fact that Mark was a hard guy to get to know—at first.  He was pretty quiet, very reserved, maybe a little standoffish. At least, that was my initial impression of him.

But Grueny was also Marvel’s self-appointed “schoolmarm,” meaning that he led a weekly assistant editors’ workshop. And it was through this workshop that I started to get to know him a little better. Each week, Grueny would teach the art of writing and editing comics to the group that he referred to as the “future editors of America.” Mark had put together an entire course curriculum, one that would get us through an entire year. Each session began with him saying, “Media shower,” which meant that we would spend the next few minutes going around the room discussing movies or TV shows we’d seen, or books or comics or magazine articles that we’d read since the previous week. The idea was to discuss what could be learned from these other forms of media in terms of storytelling or communicating ideas. It was a very useful exercise, one that I’m not sure we all appreciated at the time.

I remember one session in which Mark enthusiastically praised radio personality Howard Stern for his ability to effectively recap past events related to the radio show. Grueny started off by asking, “Ever listen to the Howard Stern show from beginning to end?” Being a longtime Stern fan, my answer was an unequivocal “Yes.” Grueny then asked: “Ever notice how if Howard makes reference in the 9 o’clock hour to something that happened in, say, the 6 o’clock hour, he’ll go out of his way to give a full recap?” Again, my answer was “Yes.”  Grueny went on to ask, “Ever wonder why he does that?” To be honest, I’d never really given it any thought. Mark then said, “The recap is not particularly useful for someone who’s been listening to the show since 6 o’clock, but what about the people just tuning in at 9? They’d be lost if Howard only made vague references to something that they completely missed. Howard is very adept at filling in listeners on what they might have missed, while still moving the show forward.

Mark connected this back to comics: he pointed out that every issue of a comic is some reader’s first issue, and while there’s nothing wrong with extended story lines, you have to play fair with new readers. You have to give them enough of a recap so that they can pick up on what’s been going on—but do it in a way that’s not frustrating to the regular readers. I took that lesson to heart, and always kept it in mind whenever I edited or wrote a comic book. I also came to understand Howard Stern's show even better than before.

There were so many other lessons I learned from Mark about writing and editing, far too many to get into here. Suffice to say that he took his role as a “shaper of young minds” very seriously, and it was a pleasure—and an honor—to be one of his many “disciples.” Those lessons have stayed with me to this day, and I’m grateful to Mark for being such an effective teacher.

Grueny also took it upon himself to be Marvel’s “morale officer,” which involved trying to cheer everyone up and inject as much fun as possible into the office when Marvel’s financial woes started to take a very dramatic turn. One stunt he did was make dozens of black and white Xeroxes of a head shot photo of Marvel editor Ralph Macchio, and then tape them all around the company. You’d come in one day and see Ralph’s face on the trashcans, on the photocopy machines, on the posters that decorated the walls—Ralph’s head on Doctor Doom’s body, or the Green Goblin’s… you get the idea. We’d see stuff like that, and we’d know that Grueny had been at it again when no one was looking. It was during this period, the beginning of Marvel’s darkest days, that Mark and I really got to know each other better. Unfortunately, it would only be during the last two years of Mark’s life—but I’m very grateful to have gotten to spend as much time with him as I did.

After several major downsizings, Marvel’s editorial staff was a lot smaller than it had been when I first joined the company. As a result, some staffers who didn’t interact with each other all that much when the staff was large now saw each other a lot more often, maybe found that they had similar interests, and became much friendlier than before. That was certainly the case with Mark and me. I remember the times when we loaned each other CDs of bootleg Beatles recordings (please don’t tell the authorities). And how we discussed at length “Lifehouse,” a legendary unfinished rock opera by Pete Townshend. And the friendly disagreements we had on whether or not George Lucas should do new, “Special Edition” versions of the original Star Wars movies. (He was in favor of it, I wasn't.) I felt like I had found a new friend, even though it was someone I already knew.

And Mark was indeed a good friend. He looked out for people. He always tried to do the right thing—and the compassionate thing. Shortly before he died, he did something on my behalf, something I didn’t ask him to do, that I’ll never forget. For personal reasons, I decided to give up a promotion to associate editor that I had recently been given at Marvel and asked to be returned to my previous status as an assistant editor. Mark was one of the first people I told, and he was utterly shocked. His eyes bugged out in that hilarious, cartoonish way of his. “In the entire history of the company, I don't think anyone has ever done that before,” he told me incredulously. “Well, I guess I'm a trailblazer,” I replied with a sad grin. Grueny feared that my decision would put me in a bad spot with our editor in chief at the time. So, completely on his own, without my knowledge, Mark went to the EIC, said that he understood why I did what I did, and implored the EIC not to hold my decision as a black mark against me. I found out about it after the fact, and I was deeply touched by this gesture. (Incidentally, I was “re-promoted” a year later—another Marvel first, I guess!)

Grueny was a terrific host, too. Each summer, he opened his beautiful summer home in upstate New York to all of us “comics industry irregulars” for a big party that usually lasted into the wee hours. People from both Marvel and DC showed up and mingled with each other. I have very fond memories of the last party Mark threw, in the summer of 1996. Late that evening, I sat on the front yard with Grueny, Ralph Macchio, assistant editor Mark Bernardo, inker extraordinaire Tom Palmer and some others, and we were shooting the breeze, trading stories old and new, and just enjoying each other’s company. Whenever I talk to Tom Palmer these days, we never fail to mention that night, and how great it was. Of course, we had no idea at the time that it would be the last time that all of us would be together like that.

The day Mark died was one of the saddest days of my life, and I know that many, many other people feel the same way. It was so sudden, so unexpected. And we never got the chance to say goodbye to him. In an instant, he was just… gone. It was at his memorial service that I really got a sense of how much of an impact he’d made on so many people’s lives. He had been so respected, so admired and well liked, by… well, by everybody. I don’t know of anyone who has an unkind word or thought about him. I remember thinking at that memorial service that that this was the kind of legacy I would like to leave behind.

After Mark’s death, I wrote and edited a special memorial edition of the Marvel “Bullpen Bulletins” page, which focused on his life and his many achievements. It was one of the toughest things I ever wrote, because it was something I never would have wanted to write. But I was determined that it be as close to perfect as possible, because it was so important. Not just to me, but to Marvel and everyone at the company. This was to be our official tribute to Grueny, and I remember how nervous I was while putting it together. I called some of the biggest names in the comics industry to ask them to provide quotes for the piece, and the outpourings of affection and admiration for Mark were extremely touching. I remember how Mike Carlin, who had been Mark’s first assistant at Marvel and had become one of his closest friends, called from California, where he was on a business trip, just to leave me a message with his quote, so that he could be included in the tribute. To this day, that edition of “Bullpen Bulletins” is one of the things I’m most proud to have worked on.

And, to shift into a somewhat darkly humorous vein, I can now reveal that Grueny and I became close—very close, in fact—even after his death. You may recall that his ashes were sprinkled into the ink for the trade paperback collection of his SQUADRON SUPREME limited series. It was an idea that Mark would have loved—in fact, I think he may have suggested it while he was alive. As his wife Catherine had pointed out, it was often said about Mark that he really put himself into his work, and now that statement would be taken literally.

Tom Brevoort and I were the editors of the SQUADRON SUPREME trade paperback, and during the period in which we planning it out, and making the arrangements to put Mark’s ashes into the ink, Catherine Gruenwald dropped off the ashes in our office. The ashes were stored in a plain, black, plastic container. I felt that just wasn’t good enough for our man Grueny, so I took a color Xerox of a photo of Mark dressed up in a tuxedo (scroll all the way up and you’ll see it) and taped it to the side of the box so that anyone coming into the office would know what—would know who—was inside. And there the ashes sat, for a period of about three months. And each morning, I’d come in to the office, sit down at my desk, look at the box, and say, “Hi, Mark!” Ralph Macchio also joined in, often picking up the box and carrying on complete conversations with the remains of his old friend. Demented? Maybe. Funny? Definitely. And somewhere, Mark was watching it all and laughing up a storm. (By the way, Tom Brevoort still has the box in his office, and the photo of Mark that I taped to its side is still on it.)             

I’ve written this particular column to do my part to keep Mark’s name alive, to give people who only knew him as a name in a comic book—or who didn’t know of him at all—at least a glimpse of the Mark Gruenwald that I knew. I still think of him very often, and I’d like to think that our burgeoning friendship would have only gotten stronger had he lived. It’s not often that you meet someone who can enrich as many lives as Grueny did.  He certainly enriched mine. 



© All content copyright Glenn Greenberg, 2011.




Saturday, July 30, 2011

STAR TREK THROUGH FRESH EYES, PART FIVE

For me, Star Trek: The Motion Picture was a major event.  It’s what really sparked my ongoing interest in Star Trek. After my older sister took me to see it during its original theatrical run in late 1979 or early 1980, I started reading all of the Star Trek novels and comic books that I could get my hands on, and began watching the original TV series on a more regular basis.




For my eight-year-old daughter Maddie, I imagine that The Motion Picture was just another installment of the series overall. After all, we weren’t seeing it on the big screen, we were watching it on TV, just as we’d watched everything that came before it. It simply couldn’t have the impact on her that it had on me. But that was okay. Plus, it was something of a turning point for her, because The Motion Picture wasn’t quite what she was used to—after watching all three seasons of the original series (see here, here, and here) and the animated series, Maddie had become very comfortable with the Star Trek universe and the characters inhabiting it. But The Motion Picture featured different uniforms, different theme music, different-looking Klingons, far more elaborate special effects, a totally spruced up U.S.S. Enterprise, and a noticeably older crew. It was fun watching Maddie take in all of the changes, and amusing to see how readily she accepted them—well, most of them.

Just before hitting the “play” button and starting up the DVD, I recreated a little bit of my personal history when I told Maddie the exact same thing my sister told me as we sat down in the theater to watch the movie all those years ago: “It’s a little slow-moving. You might get bored in spots. There may be stuff you don’t understand. But try to patient. Give it a chance, and I’ll answer any questions you may have.” Maddie nodded, just as I did way back when, and we dived in…

Star Trek: The Motion Picture


An enormous energy cloud with great destructive power is headed to Earth, wiping out everything in its path (including three Klingon battle cruisers and a Federation space station). The only Federation starship within interception range is the U.S.S. Enterprise, which is being extensively refitted and is not fully ready for duty. James T. Kirk, now an admiral, uses the crisis to convince Starfleet Command to give him back the Enterprise and let him confront the mysterious threat. But Kirk soon finds that he’s not familiar enough with this new Enterprise and that he’s competing with his own Executive Officer, Will Decker—the man who was supposed to be the ship’s new captain until Kirk snatched it back from him. Along the way, Spock rejoins the crew, after failing to purge himself fully of his human side after several years of intensive effort on Vulcan. Having sensed a powerful consciousness at the heart of the cloud, one possessing totally emotionless, purely logical thought patterns, Spock believes that this entity, whatever it is, can help him finally achieve his goal. The Enterprise enters the cloud, with Kirk and his crew determined to make contact with the mysterious intelligence behind it to and stop it from threatening Earth.


I’ll say right off the bat that I like Star Trek: The Motion Picture. I like it a lot. But even I’ll admit that it’s slow-moving. And I fully acknowledge—and have mentioned in previous installments here—that it’s extremely derivative of past Star Trek adventures, particularly “The Changeling” from the original series and “One Of Our Planets is Missing” and “Beyond the Farthest Star” from the animated series.


Further, it does seem like producer Gene Roddenberry and director Robert Wise were influenced heavily by Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. So I totally get why the film’s detractors say that the characters are stiff, that they lack the warmth, the humanity, and the charm that they had in the original television series. Upon first glance, that certainly does seem to be the case.


And it must also be acknowledged that the two major new characters introduced in the film, both of whom end up being crucial to the plot and the final resolution, are woefully underdeveloped and fail to make any real impression. The audience forms no emotional attachment to either of them and, therefore, can’t really feel anything for them when they meet their ultimate fates.






Decker, played by Stephen Collins, is bland, mild-mannered, colorless. The only really interesting thing about him—the fact that he’s the son of Commodore Matt Decker, from the terrific original-series episode “The Doomsday Machine” (in which he was portrayed quite memorably by William Windom)—isn’t even acknowledged in the film. 

As for the bald Lieutenant Ilia of the planet Delta IV, played by the late Persis Khambatta, well, we barely get to know her—and there’s virtually no development of her character—before she gets zapped by the mysterious entity V’ger and replaced by an identical, emotionless mechanism. And as many have argued, Ms. Khambatta’s performance was pretty mechanical before her character got turned into a mechanism.

Decker and Ilia’s romantic history and the present-day tension between them (which would be grafted onto the characters Will Riker and Deanna Troi years later in Star Trek: The Next Generation) just aren’t very interesting. Not enough is done with the set-up. And that’s a problem throughout the movie—not enough is done with the potentially intriguing elements that are set up.

Just from reading the synopsis above, you can see a lot of potential for drama, interpersonal conflicts, and a gripping, exciting showdown with a vastly powerful entity with an unknown agenda. But Star Trek: The Motion Picture shies away from any of that. It suggests all of the above, it flirts with exploring these things, but in nearly every instance, it backs off. The inherent conflict between Kirk and Decker, which should have been a central element of the movie, is never fully developed and eventually, it just disappears and they start getting along just fine. Dr. McCoy suggests early in the film that Kirk is obsessed with being in command of the Enterprise, and that he may be putting his own needs ahead of the mission’s. But this notion is never really explored—in fact, it’s never brought up again. We don’t get to see Kirk doing any real soul searching, questioning his own behavior, realizing the truth of McCoy’s words, and overcoming his obsession. It’s a missed opportunity for some real characterization.

However—I would argue that William Shatner’s performance as Kirk is actually quite nuanced. It’s a more mature, more complex, more controlled portrayal of the character, with a lot of layers—and a lot of humanity. Nowhere is this more evident than in the scene where Kirk gazes upon the newly refitted Enterprise for the first time—the look on his face is the look of a man reunited with his long-lost, greatest love. Later, we see Kirk try desperately to reconnect on some emotional level with the newly returned Spock, and the deep hurt he feels when Spock responds with cold indifference. It’s not Shatner’s best performance as Kirk (that’s still to come), but it’s a compelling one that reveals new facets with each repeated viewing.



And there’s a very good reason why Leonard Nimoy’s performance as Spock throughout most of the film is so stiff, so robotic, so remote—it’s a story point. He’s just spent several years trying to purge himself of his human half, of all traces of emotion. He doesn’t rejoin the Enterprise crew to help them in their mission, or to renew old friendships—he’s there to make contact with the vast intelligence he sensed, V’ger, in the hope that it can help him in his quest. And when Spock mind-melds with this entity, he realizes that despite all of its knowledge and intelligence, despite the pure logic of its thought patterns, V’ger is empty, cold, without hope or meaning. It’s at this moment that Spock realizes that logic and knowledge just aren’t enough to be a complete being. He embraces his human half, he acknowledges his emotions—to the point where he even sheds a tear for V’ger because he’s now found his place in the universe while V’ger remains barren and lost.




In that sense, Star Trek: The Motion Picture is probably the most important Spock story ever told, because it shows the culmination of his lifelong character arc. While the film was largely ignored by all subsequent Star Trek productions, Nimoy’s portrayal of Spock going forward was very much influenced by what the character experienced in it. 


And there are a lot of other elements of that I really love:


The new Enterprise—it’s absolutely gorgeous, and my all-time favorite version of the ship. I’ve never been one to like sudden, drastic change, but this is one that I embraced wholeheartedly right from the start.




The music—Jerry Goldsmith’s score for Star Trek: The Motion Picture is probably the best thing he ever did. Powerful, resonant, stirring, and triumphant. And as a nice tip of the hat to the original TV series, Alexander Courage’s classic theme music shows up several times in a slower, moodier arrangement.


DeForest Kelley is wonderful. He gets all the best lines and gives us a McCoy who’s only gotten more grumpy, more sarcastic, and more anti-authority as he’s grown older. He’s a lot of fun whenever he’s on the screen. It’s not a particularly big part, but he provides some necessary heart, soul, and down-to-earthiness.




The “new” Klingons look great, as do their upgraded battle cruisers. In fact, the opening sequence, in which the Klingon ships confront the energy cloud, is one of the best parts of the film.




I even like the new Starfleet uniforms—though I know I'm in the minority there.

Finally, it’s great to see the cast still looking youthful and vital. Not that they ever looked bad in the later films, but they’re still playing the characters as relatively young in The Motion Picture, and for the most part, they manage to pull it off.


Important note—there are actually three versions of Star Trek: The Motion Picture that have been released (and of course, I’ve seen ‘em all): the original 1979 theatrical version (recently released on Blu-ray), the 1983 Special Longer Version originally aired on ABC (available for years on VHS), and the 2001 Director’s Edition, released exclusively on DVD. The Director’s Edition was overseen by Robert Wise himself and produced to bring the film more in line with his original vision for it. (Long story short—because he was working under a very tight deadline and was wrapping up post-production until the very last minute, Wise never had the opportunity to fine-tune the film, to do a test-screening to determine what worked and what didn’t. He’d always felt like what got released was a rough cut. The Director’s Edition enabled him to finish the film the way he’d always intended.)

In my opinion, the Director’s Edition is the best version of the film. It’s paced better than either of its predecessors, it’s got great character moments missing from the 1979 edition, the editing is tighter and brings out new dimensions in the characters and their relationships (particularly Decker and Ilia, who need all the help they can get) and it’s got some all-new special effects that improve and clarify the storytelling significantly. Naturally, Maddie and I watched the Director’s Edition. Which brings me to…




MADDIE: “I liked it. Sometimes I thought it was a little slow-moving, and I didn’t understand some parts of it.


“I couldn’t believe that Spock would give up his studies on Vulcan to go back to the Enterprise. But then Spock was being very cold and unfriendly to everybody, and I didn’t like that. I knew something was the matter with him when everyone greeted him on the Enterprise and he just walked away. But I liked how Spock finally realized that being totally logical and without feelings was not the right thing for him.

“Dr. McCoy didn’t change one bit! In the original series, he was so funny, and I was glad they didn’t change him.

“I didn’t like Kirk’s new hairdo. It was all up and curly and puffy. I liked his hair on the TV show better. Other than that, I didn’t think Kirk had changed at all.

“I thought Kirk was right to take the Enterprise back from Decker because Kirk had more experience—but he didn’t know the new Enterprise the way that Decker did, so it was good to keep Decker on the ship.

“I didn’t get to really know who Ilia was and I would have liked to know more about her. The same with Decker. But I liked how Kirk and everybody tried to make the Ilia robot remember the real Ilia and how she felt about Decker. And I liked that Decker joined with V’ger—Voyager 6—because it meant that he could be with Ilia again.

“I liked the new music and I enjoyed when they played the music from the TV show whenever Captain Kirk was reading the captain’s log.

“I didn’t really like the new uniforms. I thought it was weird that the ladies had to wear pants—what if they had short hair? Someone could confuse them for men! I liked the uniforms on the TV show better. They had different colors and you could tell which department each person worked in by the color of their shirts.

“I liked the new Enterprise. It was more powerful. But I wish we could have seen the old Enterprise alongside the new one so we could see all the changes. When Kirk was going over to the new Enterprise, it would have been cool to see the old ship in his mind, and then see the new one.

“I liked the new bridge because it was more technical and there were so many new machines there and all the people who work on the bridge now had their own little desks.

“I liked when the Enterprise would go into warp speed, but I thought that the way it looked was kind of stolen from Star Wars.

“I thought this was a good start for the movies, but I hope the second one is faster and has more action, maybe more with the Klingons.”

COMING SOON: Take a wild guess!


© All content copyright Glenn Greenberg, 2011.