These past two weeks have seen more than their fair share of Klingon in the Mathern/Wissman/Zummo household. In an effort to bring myself up to speed for J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek, I’ve been indulging my sci-fi jones, having imbibed the first four Trek films, starting with The Wrath of Khan, working my way through The Voyage Home, then rounding back to end it with The Motion Picture—passively rending my libido ineffective. This month, I’m a Trekkie, damnit.—-
The 11th entry into this revered canon wields a double-edged sword in my case as A) it is indeed sexy enough to pull me back out of the void (not unlike the explosion propulsion vs. black hole suction plot device seated firmly in the film’s exhilarating climax) and B) my saturation of The Shat was thoroughly unnecessary as I would have found Star Trek thrilling with or without prior knowledge of its universe. Though one could say my desire to catch up was only logical.
It almost didn’t happen. The movie, the events contained within and my own viewing earlier this evening. For one, we nearly missed the showing, taking a wrong exit on top of not allowing ourselves enough time to drive within a legal speed limit up to the theater. Some of us may or may not have had to even, upon hearing the show was sold out, buy a ticket for Monsters vs Aliens and sneak in anyway. Beyond that, a major plot line of the new film involves a violation of the space time continuum, disrupting forever the future destinies of our favorite Enterprise crew (and allowing future entries a bit more room to breathe), which, now that I think about it, couples nicely with the wonky viewing sequence I chose in netflixing the older films. That said, though the existence of the film itself doesn’t fit quite so neatly into a “What if?” scenario, all you need to do is ask yourself, “Did I want to see another Star Trek?” On the record, you do now.
Star Trek X (a.k.a. Nemesis) barely made its modest production budget back in 2002, which is to say that after advertising and promotion, it probably lost money. I wouldn’t know, I can’t remember the ads. In fact, I can’t remember anything at all about X (beyond a bald protagonist and a bald antagonist) and I’m sure you’re in the same boat. Vessel. After directing the underrated Mission Impossible III (Tom Cruise shoots down a fighter jet with a machine gun), J.J. Abrams was beckoned by M:I and Star Trek parent company Paramount to beam aboard in a producer capacity for retooling the classic series. As the story goes, when he read Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman’s script, Abrams couldn’t let directing duties go to anyone else. When you see it, you’ll see why. The old Trekkian standbys never feel like clichés or even paid tribute. “Reverence” has been floating around in more than a few reviews out there and if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em. It’s reverent.
Answering my own earlier question, I had no desire to see a new Star Trek film when Paramount announced in 2006 or thereabouts, that their intention was to do just that. I couldn’t even remember if I’d seen any old ones (I had, turns out. In China, no less). Not even the inclusion of Abrams at the helm could elicit much interest, which is why really his Star Trek is so great. The film’s not so much a quantum leap beyond M:I 3 or Lost (though the metaphor sits nicely) as it is the work a superb pop talent reaching his potential much quicker than expected. Because, to be sure, this is pop entertainment and it sits right up there with the best of Steven Spielberg (an Abrams hero and it shows). George Lucas is discharging bodily fluids from every place that counts.
All four Treks I’ve seen were recalled in this latest film, the most intriguing reference being Kirk’s Kobayashi Maru Exercise revealed. And of course no true Trek reboot would be complete without another vengeance-preoccupied (and again bald) antagonist who has the means of destroying a planet and the balls to go through with it. This time around, the balls belong to Eric Bana, the most menacing meanie with a devastating drill since the Underminer destroyed a middle school parking lot in The Incredibles. Though his Nero might not be as remarkable as Khan, Bana’s cooler to look at (no distracting prosthetic man-cleavage) and he succeeds in his own right as being one of the better sure-fire pop culture movie villains of late. For those who haven’t been paying attention, that’s a crowded house (though I don’t see the Academy handing out that Best Supporting Actor three years in a row. Nero’s no Joker or Anton Chigurh). He’s a badass. He’s more than a little sad. And he’s almost entirely unrelatable. Hey, it’s Star Trek.
Watching the new actors take on these classic roles never feels as Muppet Babies as it could have. But, at times, especially when OG Spock Leonard Nimoy is onscreen, you miss the old gang. Though everybody brings that requisite “something new” to their character, the novelty is never as intriguing as those flashes of reference to the old school. There were times watching Chris Pine as Capt. Kirk when I’d lean over to my Monster’s vs Aliens friend with an, “OMG! That’s sooo Kirk!” Which, for the record, is 100 percent of the time better than an, “OMG! That’s sooo Shatner!” (Thankfully and surprisingly, was never the case for Mr. Pine). Zachary Quinto IS Spock, though his take on his character is less like his predecessor’s than any other Enterprise noob. More than any other actor in the new crew, however, Karl Urban really is Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy. Must…resist…Real McCoy! Make no Bones!…OK. Seriously though. It’s fascinating to see the varying degrees with which each performance echoes its prior, because from Sulu to Chekov, they all pick a different number on the “1-10 How Alike Are You To The Other Guy?” Scale and it all just juxtaposes so beautifully. That said, Urban is certainly the most 10, never imitating DeForest Kelly, but always recalling him. He was my favorite actor to watch when taking into account the few other roles we’ve seen him in (Lord of the Rings, The Bourne Supremacy). This one is something completely new and a cut above. Oh, and while we’re on the cast, Chris Pine is funnier than William Shatner. That’s right. I said it.
Though my opinion will never end the debate (God, if only I had the friends to debate this), to me, this is the best Star Trek movie if for one reason only—Abrams’ Star Trek is truly of my (our) time. The former Trek heavyweight, Wrath of Khan, hit the bigscreen three months before I was born and though I have yet to see movies 5-10, there seems to be a rule of diminishing returns that can be applied to the series. For example, in IV the Enterprise crew go back in time in a Klingon warship to 1986 San Francisco to rescue a pair of blue whales. Kirk goes out on a date to a pizza place. Spock puts the Vulcan Death Grip on a colorful street punk who won’t turn down his radio on the city bus. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed The Voyage Home (Nimoy’s directing skills really take off) as much as I did the three priors. Maybe not a rush out to Best Buy for the DVD box set kind of enjoyed, but at least a, “Hey Grandma, guess what I want for Christmas” level of enjoyment. Which is something. No, the reason why Star Trek just has to be the best is that it’s one hell of a muthervulcan warp-speed thrill ride. And people today need that. Watching the old films I’d remind myself( thank you Denzel Washington circa Training Day), “The shit’s chess, it ain’t checkaz!” Probably even aloud for The Motion Picture. They were always a slow burn and hey, that was great. I’m sure my cathartic scream/fist pump when Kirk outwits Khan, remotely lowering his stolen Starfleet Vessel’s shields with the universal captains’ code that, of the two, only Kirk was privy to—I don’t want to know how many notches I slipped in my roommates’ estimations. That was no noble scream. It’s just that this time around, there are like, twenty of those moments. The shit’s not chess, it’s The Eliminator. Star Trek kicks ass. Don’t hate. If upping the number of money shots whilst retaining a high level of braininess turns a Star Trek film into an action film, so be it.
I was watching the ‘making of’ featurette on Kill Bill Vol. 1 the other day and in an interview Quentin Tarantino was waxing poetic on the difficulties of action film directing. How, if you are able to harness all the elements that go into creating a Die Hard or Hard Boiled, you transcend the genre and your movie becomes high art. Now, who can disagree with that? I like In The Mood For Love as much as the next guy, but when it comes to the best of the best, it doesn’t get much bester than enjoying a movie you can enjoy with anyone. As I’ve already mentioned, the script is great and J.J. Abrams hit this one out of the park.
In terms of cinematography, Star Trek has shots for the history books. Every frame is at the very least, a keeper. There are these arty light flares in nearly every frame that not only make the movie look brilliant, but seem downright practical, given the glare from all the LCD screens, photon torpedoes and, naturally, stars. The pacing is superb, though it felt a little off leading into the climax. I’ve since chalked this up to my dreading the film coming to a close. At a brisk two hour running time, the fix must be repeated. You don’t need a second opinion, you need round two. Star Trek is that sexy model from Entourage who sleeps with Eric and then the morning after, ehem, straddling him on their hotel bed, smiles down at him, saying she never met a guy who didn’t want her again in the morning.
I won’t lie to you, I’ve been wanting this movie hard and was ready to like it. Last summer The Dark Knight stretched my stomach, as they say, leaving me hungry (though this one is nothing like that one). And to boot, watching the growing number of unanimous praises for Star Trek these past few days has put me in an even more compromising position to superfluous gushing. Given said weakness, one of the more auspicious signs to push against this trend came this morning when I saw, after 45 consecutive positive reviews, the 46th was indeed a pan and it came from none other than Armond White of the New York Press—far and away the most pretentious and utterly mind-boggling of the film critics I am familiar with. Here’s an excerpt from his rave on Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull, “During a marathon chase scene—one of those non-stop, gear-shifting, three-ring-circuses-on-wheels that you expect from the series—a brief interval shows a character bounced from a hurtling jeep and then moving bodily through trees as if in an aerial ballet. The details of this swinging, rapturous jetée must be seen to be believed.” I believe he’s referring to Shia Labeouf. Vine-swinging through trees. With spider monkeys. I think we’re going to be OK.
Star Trek is the best broad science fiction movie since Terminator 2. With any luck and the aid of T2’s director James Cameron and his upcoming Avatar, 2009 will be for sci-fi what 2008 was for the comic book flick. Star Trek sets the tone in high fashion. We’ll see in a few weeks how close the latest entry in that most holy of Cameron catalogues comes to touching the new Trek’s high bar.
If you know me well, you will know the Mathman has a tendency to be hyperbolic, but please. This time I mean it. Go see the feel-good movie of the year. Really. And not in the way those stupid Slumdog ads meant last Christmas. Star Trek is objectively awesome—clearly designed and enacted with the kind of care to designate it so. Still not sold? Pretend I’m someone who doesn’t watch more movies than you. That, my friend, would be highly illogical.
http://www.trekyourself.com/
This article appears in May 6-12, 2009.