Star Trek Flashback: The Corbomite Maneuver

"The Corbomite Maneuver" is a pivotal episode for the original Star Trek, showcasing exactly the kind of captain that James T. Kirk can be. And fittingly, it was the first regular episode of the series ever produced following its two pilots. Unfortunately, because of the extreme number of visual effects it called for (and the impossible production schedule), it wasn't finished to air on television until the tenth episode.

The Enterprise ventures into an alien civilization's space, and is forced to destroy a threatening probe in self-defense. This in turn summons a massive spaceship whose captain, Balok, threatens to destroy Enterprise. Kirk tries a desperate deception to save his ship... and that turns out to be just one test he faces.

You can imagine how things might have gone with the original Star Trek writers. They've finally begun the series, and now behold, "here's the kind of story we'll get to tell every week!" Then immediately, they discover that it's completely impossible to tell this kind of story every week on a 1966 television budget. But at least this episode does exist as a monument to what might have been, walking so that modern Star Trek with its extensive CG and sets with AR walls could run. (Plus, the "re-mastered" version of it stays largely faithful to the original vision, though with added interactive light from the alien spacecraft reflecting off the Enterprise hull.)

Episode director Joseph Sargent is extremely ambitious with the camera in this episode -- as though he's trying to find new camera angles for a show that's been around for 50 episodes already. Look for an eye-catching crane shot in the opening scene that tracks from Spock's panel to the helm, and a later sequence that follows behind Kirk as he steps out of the turbolift onto the bridge. There's also extensive lightning tricks used on the bridge to imply the spinning Q-bert cube on the viewscreen without having to show it as often. This sort of time-consuming stagecraft would also prove to be too much for a show that needed to produce a staggering 29 episodes in its first season, and became quite rare after this.

Star Trek is still finding its way at this point. The Enterprise is very much a military ship. Leaders bark orders (and then Spock tells someone off a minute later for raising their voice). We also seem a long way from deciding who the important secondary characters aboard this ship will be. As much as this episode is about Kirk's ingenuity and ability to bluff, it's equally an episode about Lieutenant Bailey. McCoy and Kirk argue about whether he was promoted too early. He has a complete meltdown on the bridge, but then is given the most unearned of second chances, an opportunity to become a diplomatic envoy -- complete with the implication that he'll one day come back to the Enterprise. It might have been nice to give that story line to someone we'd eventually come to love. (Yet at the same time, I don't think I would have liked the show making such a Malcolm Reed out of a main character and then expecting us to like them later.)

But neither is this episode striking a completely different tone than what would emerge. "The Corbomite Maneuver" is foundational Captain Kirk, showcasing the improvisational command style that would last all the way through the Star Trek movies two decades later. Spock is already a clear fast friend with Kirk, playfully asking why he bothers to seek opinions when he's made up his mind. McCoy's first appearance (in filming order) also strongly establishes that character, as he wields his medical authority over Kirk perhaps too zealously, and grouses about what duties are not in his purview (though he hasn't quite got the "I'm a doctor, not..." formulation yet).

The ending is also classic Star Trek, through and through. The implacable enemy we've faced is revealed to be benevolent and friendly. Driving home this message is an iconic puppet and a very young Clint Howard (collecting his first of multiple Star Trek series). The casting of a child is great fun -- even if there is bit of unintentional comedy in the fact that he wants nothing more than to take the landing party on a tour of his ship. (It gives big "wanna come to my room and see my toys?" energy.)

Other observations:

• After his physical, Kirk just takes off walking around the ship shirtless and sweaty. And while there is then a moment about him deciding he has time to change... he knows what he's doing.  

• This "First Federation" seems like the Borg in reverse or something. First, they show up with a tiny cube. Later, they arrive in a giant sphere. 

• Spock makes the odd observation that the stern, unyielding Balok reminds him of his father -- planting an early seed for the character of Sarek that would eventually appear.

• What a weird, of-the-time episode this is for Yeoman Rand. Kirk complains about having been assigned a female yeoman (of all things!). But then she comes through in a crisis later... by showing up on the bridge with fresh coffee she brewed with a phaser after the power went out.

"The Corbomite Maneuever" manages to find a lot about Star Trek that in retrospect feels essential to the franchise. But it also focuses too much on the minor (and annoying) character of Bailey, and feels quite slowly paced at times. Overall, I give it a B-.

Enterprise Flashback: Damage

When I last left season three of Star Trek: Enterprise, the ship had been thrashed in a battle with the Xindi. So we now rejoin our heroes with the appropriately titled "Damage."

With the Enterprise in dire need of repair, the crew is lucky to encounter another alien ship that's been damaged by anomalies in the Expanse. But hopes for a mutually beneficial trade are quickly dashed; the component Enterprise needs most is one that the alien captain is unwilling to give up. Archer must decide: to continue his vital mission to save Earth, is he willing to raid the aliens and take what they need by force? Meanwhile, we learn the reason behind T'Pol's increasingly emotional state.

From here through the rest of the season, the series really takes advantage of the fact that its visual effects are achieved through CG and not practical models. The damage inflicted on the Enterprise by the Xindi is extreme -- beyond what you could have done to a physical model on a television budget. The chewed-up exterior of ship is matched by extensive distressing of the sets. (Because the plan is to live for many episodes in this damaged state, the cost to distress the sets -- and eventually restore them -- can be spread across many episodes.)

It has to look this desperate. AND we have to have the ticking clock of Enterprise needing to make a rendezvous with Xindi allies in three days. Only then can we maybe get on board with Archer embracing a piratical plan to steal what they need. Maybe. Deep Space Nine got this dark on occasion (once resulting in one of its best episodes). But I feel the success there stemmed from how much Deep Space Nine cared about its characters and made us care. Enterprise has been far less intentional (or successful) in that regard, so I have a hard time mustering feelings for Archer's dark turn here.

But the episode tries to get us there. Archer seeks moral council with Phlox before starting down his dark path. T'Pol protests strenuously. Trip tries to tell him he's doing the right thing. And cleverly, a recognizable Star Trek actor (Casey Biggs) is cast as the alien captain, perhaps giving the sense that Archer has to do this to someone we know. Yet despite all of this, I feel like "dark Archer" is getting tiresome. I appreciate that this season has walked him gradually down this path, so that the decision here doesn't come from nowhere. Yet also, the decision here doesn't feel much farther over the line. I'm ready to see Archer struggle not to talk himself into another bad thing, but to talk himself into doing the right thing again, despite risks or costs.

I don't get any more satisfaction from the T'Pol subplot. We learn that she's become addicted to injecting herself with microdoses of trellium. Drug addiction feels like one of the go-to plot lines for a televised drama of this era, and sure, telling that story with a Vulcan character seems like an appealing novelty. Yet it also essentially undermines any character development we've seen from T'Pol this season, telling us that her emotional growth has come as a side effect of drug addition. At best, this is saying that her personal change was unintentional. At worst, there's a complicated message about drugs and self-help that I think Enterprise as a series is uninterested and incapable of exploring with any nuance.

Other observations:

• T'Pol's nightmare is packed with everything the writers could dream up -- a steamy shower scene for the commercials, and a good old fashioned jump scare for the lolz.

• Archer asks Reed to prepare the boarding party that will ransack the alien ship. Isn't this sort of personal combat planning exactly the reason the MACOs are here? 

• We're still at it with the dull villain monologuing at the Xindi council. Now they are joined by a Sphere Builder to give everyone something new to argue about.

While I appreciate the lasting consequences of Enterprise's recent space battle, I don't think this episode does nearly as good a job wrestling with the consequences of Archer's decisions. For that, and undermining T'Pol's character growth at the same time, I give "Damage" a C+.

Lightning Strikes

Recently, I've been seeing a lot of praise for the Netflix mini-series Death by Lightning. The subject matter sounded intriguing, the cast was appealing, and at just four one-hour episodes, it seemed an easily digestible bit of entertainment. So I decided to give it a try.

Death by Lightning is the story of U.S. President James Garfield and the man who assassinated him, Charles Guiteau. As it chronicles the unlikely circumstances that swept Garfield into office -- and the challenges he faced once he got there -- it follows Guiteau hopping from one swindle to another, culminating in a deception on himself that led to his fateful decision. Highlighted throughout all of this is the fact that all this history, and these two men, are largely forgotten.

I don't know how most people engage with stories based on true events, but I often grow compelled to do my own minor research. Sometimes, the "truth" seems so strange that I seek a second source to confirm it isn't "fiction." Sometimes, I want more parts of the story to flesh out what I'm experiencing. Death by Lightning spurred both of these instincts in me.

Unsurprisingly, it turns out that events here are considerably compressed. You don't have to dig very deep to learn all sorts of details about Garfield's presidency -- things that seem very relevant to his presidency -- that don't get much (or any) time in the show. Perhaps also unsurprisingly, it turns out that the reality of this show is a heightened one. The story is shaded for the sake of entertainment, making Garfield's rise seem more "out of nowhere" than it actually was, muting the possibility of mental illness in Guiteau, and making more generic adversaries out of the politicians in their orbit.

While the tone of Death by Lightning probably makes for better television, it also leaves me wondering exactly what the message is? Is it trying to say that people will always be corrupted by the lure of fame? Is this offered as an allegory for our present political moment, as if to say that things have always been heated, that it has "been ever thus?" Is it trying to suggest that our current moment isn't so dire, because no one will remember it in a century? None of those possibilities feel good to me; they're shallow, easy, or discomforting. (Or all of the above.) And none of those points is offered with much clarity.

But... it did make me start dipping into the actual history. This show is said to be based on a book by Candice Millard. I have found myself wondering if I should seek out that book for a more complete picture. In any case, if this adaptation is offered up purely as entertainment, the cast must be commended. The show features Michael Shannon as Garfield, Matthew Macfadyen as Guiteau, plus Betty Gilpin, Shea Whigham, Bradley Whitford, Nick Offerman, and other recognizable faces in its sweeping cast. If the "message" is less ambitious, something limited like "bring forgotten history to light," then Death by Lightning seems far more successful.

In all, I give the mini-series a B-. It's probably not for everyone... but if you would call yourself a political or historical junkie -- yet like me, were not too familiar with this story -- then it might be worth your time.

Star Trek Flashback: Dagger of the Mind

Prison systems are a ripe subject for science fiction. On the one hand, it doesn't take much of a turn of the dial on reality to concoct some horrific allegorical scenario. On the other hand, a desire for some humane, technological solution can lead to fanciful wishing for another way. At some intersection of both these approaches sits the classic Star Trek episode "Dagger of the Mind."

When an escapee from the Tantalus Penal Colony stows away on Enterprise, it creates an emergency aboard the ship. But once he's captured and is revealed to be a doctor, not a prisoner, questions ensue. Kirk beams down to investigate the cutting edge mental reprogramming treatment being used by the head of the colony, Dr. Adams. And soon, he may become the next victim.

To watch this episode, you may first have to silence your juvenile reaction to the repeated use of words like "penal" and "penology." (Or maybe you're just naturally more mature.) Once I did that, I found myself not quite sure of the message this episode conveys.

To be sure, Dr. Adams is presented as a terrible villain, using his device to erase memories and program thoughts as he hides beneath a smiling facade. To me, he reads rather like a #MeToo perpetrator. Kirk initially defends him (despite never having met him), citing his reputation as evidence he couldn't possibly be doing anything wrong. Adams just can't help himself; even as an investigation closes on him, he offends again. And he never argues about the good he's doing, or the greater good that might come of it. He just meddles with minds because he can. The problem in my comparison is that you want a fictional villain to have more of a motive than "it makes him feel powerful." We never get that about Dr. Adams. Nor do we get any sense that he had good intentions in the beginning before going astray. In fact, the story seems to presume there can be no good intentions here.

In the end, when the victimized Dr. Van Gelder is put in charge of the colony, his first act is to destroy the mental reprogramming device that caused all this trouble. And while mental reprogramming against someone's will does seem like a form of torture (that's what A Clockwork Orange was all about), the episode doesn't engage at all with the potential voluntary uses. You can stop well short of "make it so someone can't say their own name without feeling blinding pain," and still have plenty of room to debate where the ethical line might be between applications like "sincere efforts at self-help," "curing someone of an addiction," or just "remembering to take the garbage out every Monday night." Sure, I suppose a one-hour episode of 1960s television probably isn't the venue to get into all of that. (And yet it kind of is, when it makes room for a Spock/McCoy debate about emotion leading to violence.) I guess at the bottom of it all, I'm bothered that a sci-fi show that's thrilling its audience with the wonders of faster-than-light travel and teleportation feels there's a technology with no noble applications.

So, maybe it's best not to dig that deeply, and stay closer to the surface level. In that sense, it's an interesting episode for McCoy -- who can just tell something is off even if he can't put his finger on what. (But also, he's all about messing with Kirk, assigning to the landing party someone he seems to know has a history with the captain.) It's a big episode for Spock, who performs the series' first mind meld -- though the technique hasn't quite settled into what it would eventually look like. And it's a big episode for Kirk, who is... for reasons?... able to resist the effects of the evil mind machine to some extent. (Maybe it just takes several sessions?)

Other observations:

• These early episodes highlight the differences between the original series and The Next Generation. The vibe is much more militaristic here, with barked orders, talk of what's required in log entries, and loads of background actors filling implied positions on a cramped-feeling ship. 

• Kirk had a fling at a Christmas party with someone named Dr. Noel? A bit on the nose, isn't it?

• It's dumb for the security guard on the bridge to stand with his back to the turbolift door. Sure enough, when Dr. Van Gelder bursts onto the bridge, he gets the jump on the guard.

• The music certainly wants the audience to be suspicious long before Kirk is, serving arch stings whenever someone in the colony flatly recites something they've been programmed to say.

I feel like "Dagger of the Mind" takes too long to spring its trap, especially when the audience knows something is wrong. That and a muddled message make it a weaker installment in my book. I give it a C+.

Lace Up These Boots

This week's contribution to the pop culture zeitgeist is the final season of Stranger Things. (Most of it, anyway.) But I must honor this blog's tradition and write about Netflix's buzzy show from one or two cycles ago: Boots.

Set in the 1990s, Boots centers on young Cameron Cope. When his friend Ray enlists in the Marines, Cameron joins him -- even though both are aware that Cameron being gay would end his military career before it even begins, if people knew. Over the course of eight episodes, the two endure boot camp, each confronting their own inner demons as they meet a colorful cast of recruits and drill instructors.

Boots is based on the memoir by the real life Cope (Greg Cope White), The Pink Marine. But without having read that book, my assumption is that it's merely a touchstone for TV show and not a road map. For one thing, Cope White's actual enlistment took place in 1979, a time even more hostile to a closeted gay recruit. For another, Boots may be centered on his story, but it's far from fixated.

I started the series wondering if this boot camp show would be too gay to attract a wider audience, and quickly found myself wondering if the show would actually be too much of a boot camp cliche to retain my attention. But this is a smart show, well aware of the existence of Full Metal Jacket. It knows that it's audience knows all the tropes it might depict -- but it has eight episodes (rather than half a movie). That's plenty of time to develop other characters and make us care about them.

That's exactly what Boots does, and exactly why it works. We get to know two feuding brothers who've enlisted together, a criminal grasping at military service to avoid prison, a young man struggling to compartmentalize his feelings about family back home, a live wire oddball who might just be crazy, and many more. And that's just among the recruits. We also spend time with Cope's mother back home as she struggles to understand why her son has enlisted, with the drill instructors and their lives outside training, and with the captain of the base who must navigate the pressure of being one of the few women in such a position.

Very deftly, Boots manages to show, not tell, that being gay in a military that's institutionally hostile to that is just one struggle -- not the only struggle a person might have. And it doesn't minimize that as it showcases other problems. The show also manages to balance comedy and drama well, with plenty of charming and silly moments to juxtapose against the very serious topics it also touches upon.

The effective cast includes star Miles Heizer as Cope, Ana Ayora as Captain Fajardo, Liam Oh as Ray McAffey, Cedrick Cooper as Staff Sergeant McKinnon, and Vera Farmiga as Barbara Cope. And Max Parker seemed to get a brief bump online for his portrayal of Sergeant Sullivan. (Might he be "the next big thing?" Stay tuned.)

Boots was surely named for its setting at boot camp -- and by the end of the eight-episodes, we're done with that. Will we get a second, less-fittingly titled season? Hard to say. There is talk. The show felt like a satisfyingly contained one-off to me... but the final minutes of the last episode certainly tee up a possible first duty assignment for some of the characters. But if eight episodes of Boots is all there ever is, it's well worth watching. I give the show a B+.