Showing posts with label Star Trek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Star Trek. Show all posts

Monday, October 26, 2015

7 Days of Halloween: Star Trek ("Wolf in the Fold")

File:Leonard Nimoy William Shatner Star Trek 1968.JPG
There's no starship but instead a room that can only be described as a brothel or a strip club featuring yet another scantily clad female, providing another example of how "Star Trek" in some ways was one of television's most sexist shows. Captain Kirk (William Shatner), Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley), and Montgomery Scott (James Doohan) find themselves in a "completely hedonistic society," as Bones claims. But have no fear--it's a fine, foggy night, according to Mr. Scott, and that is an understatement. There actually isn't just fog but a Hammer-like excess of fog, then a scream. Kirk and Bones run to the scene outside the bar and find only Scotty, who had left earlier with the lady, in a terribly panicked state with a knife that has stabbed her a dozen times. Scott cannot remember what happened. The only thing we know for certain is what Bones, as expected, tells his captain, as he does often does in this show: "She's dead, Jim."

This is the introduction to one of the least appreciated episodes of the original "Star Trek" series from the 1960s. "Wolf in the Fold" was written by Robert Bloch, who is most famous for writing Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho"; he also wrote the teleplay for "Catspaw," another horror-inspired episode of the second season of "Star Trek" (and a far weaker episode than "Wolf in the Fold"). It might be considered odd that "Star Trek" took such a departure, but such departures would become somewhat precedent. Despite being a science fiction franchise, some episodes (most famously, perhaps, being "The Trouble With Trebbels") were quite funny, and the films could be compared to westerns ("The Wrath of Khan"), comedy ("The Voyage Home"), political allegories ("The Undiscovered Country"), action (2009's "Star Trek"), and horror ("First Contact").

Kirk, McCoy, and Scott find themselves on the planet Argelius II when the crime happens. John Fiedler (recognizable to today's audiences probably primarily as the voice of Piglet in the "Winnie the Pooh" series and as a juror in "12 Angry Men") appears as an administrator from a neighboring planet (the Argelians are so peaceful that they have never had a need for a police forces), and he serves (at times in harmony and at times in conflict) with Kirk as the principal detective in what soon becomes a great detective story. Soon, the situation deteriorates, as a lieutenant from the Enterprise beamed down to add to the investigation is also killed, and again Scotty is the suspect. The prefect decides to have his wife, a descendant of ancient priestesses, conduct a ritual to find the source of these murders. She grows louder and louder in her cries during the ritual, describing an over-powering, great, monstrous, terrible evil that possesses a potent hatred of women. The lights vanish, and there's another scream. The lights come back on; she's dead, and guess who's holding her dead body?

The episode becomes more and more thrilling and suspenseful, like a great murder mystery, one that these days might be called "old-fashioned." Kirk convinces the Argelians to take everyone back to the ship, where the ship's computers should be able to detect who the murderer really is. Now, our murder mystery horror has become a great courtroom scene, as Kirk questions Scotty and the other suspects. Scotty tells his version of the third murder, that something was in his way as he tried to make his way toward the priestess. Someone? Kirk asks. No. Something.    

Alright, now this is where the article will engage in some spoilers, so if you like "Star Trek," and if you like a good, old-fashioned murder mystery, I encourage you to stop reading and watch the episode. Here we go: Kirk, Spock, and the others believe that the evil spirit the priestess mentioned is none of than a favorite subject of Bloch's: Jack the Ripper. Now we're back in the horror genre, as the evil spirit jumps from being to being, taking over parts of the ship; the spirit feeds on fear, and it will do what it can to frighten the ship's members. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy quickly devise a plan to combat it; one part involves Spock feeding the haunted ship the full amount of Pi to essentially keep it busy, and the other part involves McCoy drugging everyone up. If the evil spirit enters a tranquilized body, McCoy assures his captain that the only danger to the rest of them is that it "might take up knitting" (another example of Bloch's humor).

A note on the sexism: this episode is notorious for it. Jeff Bond writes, "If you're planning on introducing your feminist girlfriend to 'Star Trek,' 'Wolf in the Fold' might not be the best starter episode." Spock makes a shocking remark that "women are more easily and more deeply terrified, generating more sheer horror than the male of the species." I agree with Bond completely, but would only add that if you're dating a feminist, it might not be a good idea to watch "Star Trek" at all with her. Not only do virtually none of the episodes or films pass the Bechdel Test, but James Kirk treats women no better than James Bond does. In another episode in season two, "By Any Other Name," the crew team up to trick superior humanoid conquerors into getting angry (the humanoids' Achilles' Heal). McCoy gives one of them "vitamin supplements" to make him irritable, Spock riles up another in a game of chess, Scotty gets another one terribly drunk, and Kirk, as expected, seduces the final one. Much has been written on Nichelle Nichols' groundbreaking role as Uhuru, but she often was not given much to do other than to inform Kirk of incoming transmissions. "Star Trek" has its flaws, and one of them is its portrayal of women. If you like "Star Trek," you'll have to accept that.

That major flaw aside, "Wolf in the Fold" is, as mentioned, a fun, funny, and surprisingly thrilling and cryptic episode, and a nice one to watch this Halloween season.  

Saturday, February 28, 2015

His Was the Most Human

To simply call him Spock, the iconic character from one of film and television's most innovative adventures in science fiction, would be a tragedy, one he might not appreciate. Leonard Nimoy, who died yesterday at age 83, was much more than Spock: After "Star Trek" ended after only three seasons, he successfully shifted to "Mission: Impossible" as a master of disguise, then hosted the documentary series "In Search Of..." before eventually having a reoccurring role in "Fringe." He starred on Broadway several times, dabbled in music (if one can call it that), directed the 1987 hit "Three Men and a Baby," and even appeared in the alternative music video of Bruno Mar's "The Lazy Song." His transition to film basically started with the remake of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers," the year before he hesitatingly returned with his fellow voyagers in 1979's "Star Trek: The Motion Picture." The film, one of the weaker entries of the series, was at least a box office hit, mostly banking on the science fiction craze of the late '70s and especially the fans of the series who eagerly awaited the return. 

But it was the second film, "The Wrath of Khan," that was not only the greatest of all the "Star Trek" films, but also the one that showcased the best of Nimoy's acting. In that powerful final scene of his, Spock offers the utilitarian intellect of the film, calmly reminding his captain of his viewpoint that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. "The Wrath of Khan" might best be remembered for William Shatner screaming at his nemesis, but its best moment is its climax, where Spock proves that he will walk the philosophical walk. "Don't grieve, Admiral," he tells Kirk with a frighteningly hoarse voice. "It's logical." Director Nicholas Meyer, who had never seen any of the original "Star Trek" episodes, was perplexed at his crew for crying during the scene. Upon later watching the series, it suddenly occurred to him why they wept.

Just about anyone could relate to Spock in at least one way. The most obvious is the fact that the character grew up with a Vulcan father and human mother. "Star Trek," as many know, was at the time exploring societal issues and controversies in a way no other series even dared. One young girl, herself biracial, identified with the character and wrote to Nimoy seeking advice. He wholeheartedly replied, telling her to be true to herself as opposed to simply trying to be popular. The current president has been criticized for being "too Spocky and not enough Rocky," but relying on the former's qualities seems to have served him better. Barack Obama, obviously, is also biracial, and perhaps this is why he told the nation yesterday that he himself "loved Spock." Beyond issues of Spock being biracial were issues of him simply being different; Robert Lloyd of the Los Angeles Times suggested that these days we would simply say Spock is "on the spectrum." Spock is different, no doubt, but he is also undeniably talented, strong, and influential. As Captain Kirk tearfully tells his crew at the conclusion of "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan," Spock's heart was the most human. 

Nimoy was at his best when he played Spock. Watch some of the best episodes of the original series -- "Charlie X," "The Corbonite Manuever," "The Managerie," "The Galileo Seven," "The City on the Edge of Tomorrow," "The Return of the Archons" -- and you will see some of Nimoy's finest work. To call Mr. Spock emotionless would be a mistake, for Nimoy knew that Spock was half-human, not fully Vulcan, thereby requiring the character to be completely the master of his emotions rather than simply devoid of them. Some of the episodes, like "Devil In the Dark," demonstrated that sometimes, frankly, Nimoy hit the wrong mark. He later claimed that his co-star and friend for several decades, Shatner as Captain James Kirk, was away from the set to attend a funeral. When he returned, the scene was explained to him: Nimoy as Spock performed a "mind meld," transferring a bizarre alien's thoughts to his mind. "Pain!" Spock yells. Shatner asked if Nimoy could show him, and Nimoy sort of performed a tame version of his previous performance. Shatner grew frustrated and asked rhetorically if that's how he did it, to which Nimoy said no, before really shouting "pain!" again, eyes completely closed and tense. Shatner didn't miss a beat: "Will someone get this man an aspirin?" Nimoy didn't speak to him for two weeks. But, as mentioned, they remained close. In addition to their three live action seasons and one animated, the two joined their fellow trekkers for a total of six "Stark Trek" films from 1979 to 1991, two of which Nimoy directed ("The Search for Spock" and "The Voyage Home," which is the second best of the original six). Nimoy also directed Shatner in an episode of the latter's TV show "TJ Hooker," and they even lent their voices to two computer games in the '90s, but with the most recent "Star Trek Into Darkness," Nimoy surpassed Shatner's record for the most "Star Trek" appearances. Nimoy, portraying Spock Prime, guiding Zachary Quinto's younger Spock in the alternate timeline, sort of served as an ambassador to the newer fans of the franchise, humbly and appropriately passing the torch in J.J. Abrams' "Star Trek" in 2009. His cameo in the most recent one might have been unnecessary, but it was, in retrospect, a nice final appearance from him.

But by now Nimoy's ambiguous feelings toward the character that made him famous at age 35 and a permanent part of American pop culture even in death are fairly well known. He claimed that when he was walking in an airport, a woman approached him with her young daughter, and excitingly told the girl that before her very eyes was the television character she so very much loved. But the girl looked up and did not see Spock, with his raised eyebrow, pointy ears and overly regulated emotions. Instead she saw a man with shaggy hair and street clothes, and the girl was disappointed. Nimoy's response eventually came in the form of his first autobiography, titled "I Am Not Spock." I have not read the book, but apparently Nimoy meant it to be a discussion of the character and how he performed the role, not a bitter rejection or insult. But there was certainly a negative reaction, and to clarify, he later wrote another autobiography: "I Am Spock."

LLAP

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Star Trek Into Darkness

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. This is how Captain Kirk rationalizes working with a terrible foe. Is it logical? Is it safe? A confusing sense of morals and ethics is what drives J.J. Abrams' newest "Star Trek" adventure, "Star Trek Into Darkness," and yet it's still a lot of fun. That's what is most appealing about J.J. Abrams in his role as directing the "Star Trek" films: he understands the delicate balance between action and thought, rarely focusing too much on one or the other. Consider that in one scene Starfleet is attacked by a merciless killer--it's a loud, somewhat intense fight scene with lots of laser blasts. Only moments later, we get an allegorical debate on the ethics of counterterrorism. Most of all, the filmmakers here understand the character-driven nature of the series. The action scenes are all good fun, but the ones that are more lasting are the character scenes.  "Star Wars" fans should rest assured with Abrams directing "Episode VII" next year.

We're more or less on a new adventure here, as Starfleet is attacked by a callous Starfleet officer, John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch). Captain James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) is ordered to hunt him down and destroy him. Harrison knows that he can hide in dangerous enemy territory where Starfleet would not dare chase after him, but chase they do. I could be a bit more specific in these details but as expected, the plot is a bit confusing with likely more than one hole in it. Regardless, when I watch space opera of this kind, I'm not necessarily after perfectly comprehensible details. Who cares about details when there's such a terrifying performance by Cumberbatch? Cumberbatch is particularly enjoyable as the villain, with a deep low voice that is haunting; I can only imagine that Pine, Zachary Quinto and others were just a bit frightened on the set. (Though, as an actor, Cumberbatch could probably afford to relax his jaw a bit and tone it down.) Fans will be happy that virtually every character is given something to do instead of simply pressing buttons. Scott (Simon Pegg) conflicts with Kirk about new weapons being brought on board the Enterprise, while Spock (Quinto) continues not so much to struggle with his emotions but to struggle to clarify them to those who do not understand him. Sulu (John Cho) gets to take the helm for some scenes and threatens his enemies not to test him, or else he will unleash the firepower of the Enterprise. (I'm sure George Takei was smiling.) And Pine was good as Kirk in the first one, but here he is really good, perfectly comfortable in his role, striking the right balance of brilliance and arrogance. But I think the best performance is by Peter Weller as the hawkish cold warrior intent on provoking wars with Starfleet's enemies. His constant lectures towards Kirk, not-so-subtly calling him "boy," fuel the disconnect between the two.

Oscar-winner Michael Giacchino's score is haunting, particularly the piano tune that accompanies Harrison and his actions. I'm a harsh critic of CGI, but Abrams and his team at ILM have made visual effects that actually (mostly) looked quite good. They back up half-a-dozen exciting scenes, like the opening chase through a bizarre jungle hued in red or a roller-coaster head-dive through a debris field. And instead of a gratuitous amount of green screens, Karen Manthey provides some really nice, elaborate sets. But one consistent flaw in every Abrams movie is his inability to sustain a film passed the second act; indeed, with "Star Trek Into Darkness," the third act is just as clunky as it is in his other films. Still, he and his writers (Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtzman, and Damon Lindelof, his collaborator on "Lost") put together a nice, albeit somewhat unoriginal story. I'm not a fan of spoilers at all, and it will be delicate not to spoil anything. That being said, there are numerous surprises here, and some of them might cause more eye-rolling than amusement. The writers have enjoyed going further with adjusting the "Star Trek" mythology and flipping everything. Indeed, there are scenes here that mirror scenes in previous "Star Trek" films (again, I won't elaborate on why); I was touched by these scenes, but alas, not as much as the originals. Still, the scenes are clever, as is this movie.  I think I might like it more than its immediate predecessor.

On a personal note, "Star Trek" from 2009 was the last movie I reviewed for the Daily Kent Stater in undergrad.


film, movie, cinema, J.J. Abrams, Chris Pine, Kirk, Spock, Star Trek, Star Wars, Zachary Quinto, Benedict Cumberbatch

Friday, August 6, 2010

Arbitrary but Admirable Movies

The DMZ

File:Dmz reunification memorial.jpgWhat I like to consider the "Pather Panchali" of Korean cinema, Park Sang-ho's 1965 Korean semi-documentary "The DMZ" (or "Bimujangjidae" in Korean) is a film once thought to be lost forever but was recently discovered. While possessing nice shots and a definite amount of risk (filming in the actual DMZ surrounded by troops and landmines cannot be too safe), it's not particularly well-made (the original film reviews agree with me), and it requires a tolerance of things like 1960s Konglish subtitles, but it is a film of impressive themes and emotions. Its actors--a boy and a girl playing two children lost in the DMZ searching for their mother--are sometimes annoying but mostly natural and interesting to watch. The idea for the film was sparked when director Park was visiting Japan and met with some Western tourists. The tourists asked him about Panmunjom and seemed to take a thrill in the idea of such a place, without recognizing the danger, tragedy or either countries to the north or south of the so-called truce village. He decided to make this film. It might be assumed that Park hoped and believed that within several years the peninsula would be united in one, but such is the tragedy of Korea.

The Lady and the Reaper


File:CathedralOfTrier Skeleton.JPGThe film that deserved the Best Animated Short Feature Award at last year's Oscars, "The Lady and the Reaper" is an eight-minute piece from Spain. It starts sentimental, then surreal, then absurd. We see an aging woman, longing for her husband and ready to pass away. One night, she dies, and her spirit happily takes the hand of the Reaper to go to the other side--until she's saved. Briefly, a Time magazine photo is seen introducing us to a "famous doctor who saves another miserable life." This doctor is proud of his accomplishment, regardless of the fact that his patient wants to die, but his stubbornness is only matched by the persistence of the Reaper, as the two begin in a seemingly-endless battle over this woman. It is probable that many could make arguments about end-of-life issues with this film, but it is also doubtful that such an idea was the intent of the film. This movie is funny, wonderfully engaging and has a very effective musical score from Serio De La Puente. In my formative years as an ESL teacher, I would show this to my students, regardless of age or level, and of course the activities and assessments would vary, but it was usually a very enjoyable lesson.

The Cow

Dariush Mehrjui's "Gaav," or "The Cow," is about a universal theme regarding a working individual in unordinary times. In this case, he finds himself pitted against every member of the community. Ezzatolah Entezami plays a villager whose proudest prize and accomplice is his cow. While journeying away from the village, the cow is killed by a rival village. The community is concerned that Entezami's character will be unable to cope with the loss. As a community, they decide to tell the villager that his cow has run away. In an interview, Mehrjui talked about how the film was produced in 1969, at the time of the Shah's hightened propaganda about Iran entering a new period of modernity. He noted that the Iranian government was ashamed that Iran was being represented by its "un-modern" villages at international film festivals. But Mehrjui felt the absence of art films of Europe and America in Iran, so he made this film. Incidentally, the film launched the career of Entezami, who is considered one of Iran's greatest actors. The film is also regarded as the start of the Iranian New Wave, and it was also supposedly a favorite of the Ayatollah Khomeini.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

File:Leonard Nimoy William Shatner De Forest Kelley Star Trek 1969.JPG
After the seriousness of the previous "Star Trek" film, "The Search for Spock," the cast and crew decided to take a much more light-hearted approach. Practically a slapstick comedy but also with a sincere environmental message, Captain James T. Kirk (William Shatner) and his crew approach Earth to find that their planet is being destroyed by an alien species. Spock (Leonard Nimoy) quickly (in a matter of seconds) decides that it must be because whales are extinct, so they must return to the past (1986) to bring back a humpback whale to communicate with the aliens. Once that ridiculous exposition has passed, the film becomes incredibly enjoyable, as the characters try to make their way through San Fransisco. Chekov cannot understand that 1986 was still during the Cold War, and that it might appear supicious for a man with a Russian accent to be asking for directions to the nuclear vessels (or "nuclear wessels"). Scotty cannot figure out how to speak to the computer, speaking into the mouse as if it is a microphone. Bones finds the primitive surgeries of the hospital to be similar to practices used in the Dark Ages. And Spock's state is disguised by Kirk as being the result of too much drugs in the 1960s. It doesn't help their cause as they explain that in the future there is no money, thus making it difficult to pay for dinner.

Thirteen Days

President Kennedy is warned that the missiles are within range of American cities, that the government would only have five minutes notice, and that the missiles have the potential to kill eighty million Americans. He is surrounded by a group of various factions, led by pacifists like Adlai Stevenson, pragmatists like Robert McNamara and hardliners like Curtis LeMay. The tremendous amount of pressure on the Kennedy administration is efficiently demonstrated in this movie, a movie I would consider virtually the only film justifiably shown at full-length in a social studies classroom. Kennedy, played by Bruce Greenwood, is advised primarily by his brother, the Attorney General Robert Kennedy (Steven Culp) and his chief of staff (Kevin Costner), a role which was largely exaggerated for probably several reasons. Regardless, it's a fascinating film.

Powaqqatsi

Godfrey Reggio's "Powaqqatsi," the sequel to his "Koyaanisqatsi," is a similar-themed documentary. While its predecessor focused on the juxtaposition of nature and modern technology, "Powaqqatsi" has a focus on the impact on humans, specifically on the cultures and work ethics of third world nations. What drives this film, and Reggio's others in his trilogy, is Philip Glass's awesome score, particularly the opening moments as well as what is usually titled "Anthem: Part 2," which was used in trailers for films such as "Philadelphia" and "Dead Man Walking" as well as a sequence in "The Truman Show" (also scored by Glass, a decade later). Michael Dare wrote, "If I could send just one film to the stars as a tribute to the beauty and passion of our species and planet, I'd have a hard time choosing between the two films of Godfrey Reggio. They're both masterpieces, affirming and lifegiving, raising the art of film into the stratosphere. The common language of no language makes his films perfectly international; I can't image anyone from any country seeing them and not walking away with the same message--that our homeworld is beautiful and giving, that all humans are equal in the sight of mother earth, that if we take from her more than she's willing to give, we must suffer the consequences."

Harakiri

Known as the essential "anti-samurai" film, there are many reasons to watch this movie. Its eerie and almost demonic cinematography is reminiscent of more well-known Japanese films like "Onibaba" and "Throne of Blood." Masaki Kobayashi's "Harakiri" is a repudiation of feudalism and authoritarianism, set in the Edo period, as Japan ended its isolation and began the Empire of Japan. Imperial Japan was obviously a period of severe aggression, and it seems to be that Japan feels a great amount of guilt because of this but also wishes not to specifically apologize for its aggression. Anyway, this period served as an allegory for the film. The film's most powerful moment, for most, is its scene of seppuku, or, as it is defined, Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment. The character must use a dull blade (he has sold his sword for food for his family) to commit the act. Supposedly, when the film was shown at the 1964 Cannes Film Festival, members of the audience fainted. See Joan Mellen's Criterion Collection essay and NonStoptoTokyo's Youtube post for more information about the film.

Murmur of the Heart

"Murmur of the Heart," directed by Louis Malle, explores a very unique family. The family, not dissimilar from other families depicted in films, particularly in French films, is led by an opinionated father, with an independent mother, two rambunctious older boys, and one younger boy who happens to be fourteen-years-old and desperate to lose his virginity. His route of doing so cannot be described as conventional, and can be viewed as quite shocking, but much time has past since 1971 when the film played in America, so I will not be the one to provide the details (just go ahead and watch the film). This boy, played by Benoit Ferreux, is more mature than his older brothers but willing to go along in search of his identity, and thus we have a quintessential coming-of-age story. He tries cigars and prostitutes (until that is spoiled by his older brothers), but his quest is postponed (or is it?) due to his heart condition, which requires a hospital stay away from the city. Here, perhaps, he will find what he is looking for.

The Purple Rose of Cairo

While Woody Allen's "Crimes in Misdeamnors" four years after this movie carried with it such a heavy weight which was a feature in some of his later films like "Match Point," "The Purple Rose of Cairo," while serious in romance and the emotions of disappointment, was much lighter. Like any character in an Allen film, Mia Farrow's leading role is one who despite her misery finds solitude in Depression-era America at the movies. Continuing to see the same romance film over and over again, she eventually falls in love with one of the characters, played by Jeff Daniels. A crisis is soon to unfold, as the character Daniel's plays in this fictitious movie jumps out of the screen and begins to talk with Farrow. The crisis, of course, is that now the movie cannot continue with its important character, so the studio sends the actor (also, obviously, played by Daniels) to try and convince this character to return to the movie. As might be expected, a love triangle commences. This movie's sentimentality is perfect, expressing a nostalgic tribute to movies without becoming too engrossing and is one of Allen's finest films.

Young Mr. Lincoln

While exaggerated in many parts for obvious reasons, I was surprised at how accurate many other parts were; the mysterious case Lincoln the lawyer must solve and the way in which he solved it are not entirely an invention. Henry Fonda in the title role (the same year his good friend yet ideological opponent Jimmy Stewart played another idealist politician in "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington") also looked remarkably similar to a younger Abraham Lincoln. I once asked on IMDb about the makeup effects, as I was convinced that Fonda's cheekbones and forehead were made to appear more robust as Lincoln's were; I was reminded that 1939 also saw the release of "The Wizard of Oz" and its even more impressive makeup techniques. Lincoln, as many are aware, was a complex president, a man of ambiguous nature who signed the Emancipation Proclamation yet who was the only serious politician in the country who endorsed such a silly idea of colonizing American blacks from American soil to Liberia. He was a man who is regarded as a principle figure in freedom yet was the closest an American president has come to tyranny. He fought a war to free slaves yet did so with the sole purpose being to keep the Union in tact. Lincoln was a man of depression, serious thought, and haunted by death. Yet these serious themes are largely ignored here, and Fonda's Lincoln focuses on the Lincoln of humor, wit, intelligence and storytelling.