TOS Rewind #77: "The Cage"

If you're reading this as the first entry of our series of Trek reviews, go read this entry first. It's the introduction and is (mostly) relevant today.

Today we are going to cover, The Cage (no original airdate)

And of course there's a podcast:



So is this going to be entry "0" or "77" which is how I have it as I write this (my entry numbers don't quite line up to the number of actual episodes because I doubled up on a few)? This episode, the original pilot, is sometimes stuck on the end of the series on video releases (like the Blu-Rays where it's placed on the Season 3 set) and someplace, I have an old Betamax tape of this episode, the version where the trims that weren't repurposed for "The Menagerie" were in black and white; sourced from Gene Roddenberry's old 16mm print which was, for many years, the only version known to exist of the complete episode. Want more detail on the tech, venture forth to our podcast, which can be found here. As Eric mentions below, this comes at the end of our series of reviews. In fact, this is the last written review we're doing; we still have a handful of podcasts to go back to as we didn't begin the project doing podcasts.

Traditionally, I have generally treated this, the old original pilot, as a mostly forgotten appendix to what I thought of as Star Trek. The only exposure I had to The Cage was its presence in The Menagerie (which was an alternate title for the pilot so that footage wasn't the only thing recycled). The background of The Menagerie tells us that it was an episode mainly designed to pad out the first season and bring the budget under control. Not knowing this, I never thought of that episode as cheap. This is mainly due to the high quality of The Cage as a source of flashback clips. The "clip show" in most television series, is usually the sign of a filler episode that contributes little to the show (Shades of Gray, anyone?) Not so for this episode. Of course this is not a review of The Menagerie, so let's take a look at the matter at hand.

So, what does a television pilot need to accomplish? In my experience and unprofessional opinion, the pilot needs to do one or all of the following.

1.  Provide a broad introduction to the world of the show and its characters. This introduction can be couched within a story arc that is launched in the pilot or just provide enough background on the characters to give us an idea of what they're about. This seems to be the way most modern television series, especially dramas, choose to begin.

2.  Provide a look into the typical situation or story that the show will encounter on a typical week. This, as far as I can deduce, is the way older television shows tended to sell themselves. After all, aside from soaps, most television dramas tended to be very episodic or even shows that were more of an anthology where different stories were told each week with different characters, such as The Twilight Zone.

3.  Provide the network, who is going to decide the fate of the fledgling show, with something to be excited about. I would speculate that when Gene Roddenberry pitched his "Wagon Train to the Stars" concept, he knew it would appeal to the deciders at NBC. Roddenberry, a veteran of television, knew how to sell. This particular pilot, however, wasn't quite what the audience--those network "suits" and the advertisers who paid the bills--was expecting.

So, my main gripe about The Cage is that I don't know that it really works as a pilot; something that really sells the show or compellingly launches the story and keeps us hooked. The story is good as a standalone or representative as an episode of a series well under way. Part of the reason I feel this is due to the fact that we meet the main character, Captain Pike, at a point where his career as a star ship captain has begun to wear him down. I do like the scene in Pike's quarters where he confesses this to his bartender/doctor; it's good dramatic character writing, but it just feels wrong to me as a successful introduction to launch the show. As Eric argues, the experiences on the episode rejuvenate Pike to the point that he is ready to move on and explore space, but I am not sure I buy it. Maybe it's nitpicking but it doesn't sit just right with me.

Other aspects of The Cage work well as a pilot. There are some solid science fiction ideas and things are explained fairly well; the show is genuine science fiction. It was a bold move to shoot this particular story as the basis for a 1960s network show. Roddenberry did create Star Trek and wrote this episode so we all owe a lot to him. However, only recently have I become aware of how much credit we should also give to the great Lucille Ball for standing behind Star Trek. From what I understand, Lucy saw something in this show that, along with Mission:  Impossible, financially wrecked her production company, Desilu. Of course both shows turned into successful franchises for Paramount, the studio that bought out Desilu, but at the time, both shows were very expensive to produce. A studio with deeper pockets might have absorbed the costs but who knows whether either show would have been tried by one of the majors. Star Trek, in particular was a show that was going to be somewhat of a risk and a more conservative company probably wouldn't have taken this risk. So, thanks again, Lucy;  all of us Trek fans owe you a lot.

I, like many other fans, do find it fun to take a look at what Star Trek was before its cast was settled. This is particularly interesting given how familiar and well loved the original cast is. Spock is the only familiar face, setting aside Majel Barrett for the moment, and even he is not yet fully formed. Spock is hardly the authoritative, logical Vulcan we all know so well. Spock is younger, more energetic, and yes, emotional. This of course plays somewhat well when the episode is used as a flashback. It would make a lot less sense if Spock had been the same rank and acted just the same. The sets and effects are, for the most part, not as good or just look more like something you'd see in a 1950s science fiction movie; just more old-fashioned.  The uniforms, amusingly enough, have aged better than the ones used in the series, especially on the women.

The story and ideas are really good. The message about the nature of escapism and addiction is potent without being too obvious or insulting to the audience. The performances are also good, given that this was a brand new show with unfamiliar characters. Besides Spock, a lot of the focus of this episode goes to Jeffrey Hunter playing Captain Pike. Hunter's performance as Pike is just a bit too much on the stiff side. This wouldn't be such a problem if Majel Barrett's Number One character wasn't also on the stiff and analytical side. There aren't enough contrasts in the cast dynamics. Spock's energetic acting helps but the cast doesn't seem to gel right off the bat. I'm being unfair of course but Shatner was the right choice at this time. The role of captain needed more humor and dare I say it, swagger. We got that and it wasn't something Jeff Hunter was really good at. I would speculate that Hunter might have played some of the serious parts of the Enterprise captain with more nuance; I don't think Hunter quite rose to the scenery chewing heights as Shatner, but I give The Shat an edge for his overall range. Again, not being completely fair. Besides Star Trek, my only exposure to Jeff Hunter has been the movies King of Kings and The Searchers. We have what we have and we can just be grateful things turned out like they did. 

I do like the idea of a woman first officer for this show. Was Majel Barrett right to play this part? I'm not really certain, but I find it hard to really judge this seeing how I've never seen her play any other similar role. NBC obviously wasn't ready to have a female authority figure on its show so maybe it's a moot point. Roddenberry certainly had his share of sexist ideas but he gets credit here for at least trying to bring some equality to television of the 1960s. Doctor Boyce is actually fine here. I like McCoy as much as anyone and while I find it hard to imagine Star Trek being what it is without him, Boyce could have a good character on the show. Boyce is certainly better than Paul Fix, who played the doctor (and a nameless doctor at that) in the second pilot. I don't want to leave out the Talosians. Unlike many Star Trek species, these beings really look alien; between the weird pulsing head blood vessels and the way their voices are recorded, the Talosians are far more effective than the average "alien of the week". 

Watching this episode makes me wonder how this story might have been done, had they, instead of reusing it in another episode, instead remade the story with the regular characters. Now that would have been interesting. What we are left with is a curious artifact from the dawn of what would become a massive sci fi/adventure franchise. Star Trek certainly didn't always live up the the promise of what Gene Roddenberry made with The Cage (of course in some ways it was surpassed) but the basic structure was put in place. Just get the in-wall TV set out of the captain's quarters!

---

Eric's turn:

This review is oddly placed. I am writing it after my review of “Turnabout Intruder,” the final aired episode of Star Trek:TOS. But given that “The Cage” is the original Star Trek pilot, this may be your entry point into our review of the entire series. No worries, though. We can work it out. (I'm a Beatles fan too.)

“The Cage” is Gene Roddenberry's first attempt at a Star Trek pilot, and he wrote and produced the episode. It was rejected by the NBC for being, as they put it, too cerebral. In an unprecedented move, however, they commissioned a second pilot, “Where No Man Has Gone Before,” and “The Cage” was subsequently folded into the two-part episode “The Menagerie.” (We go into more detail about all of this in our reviews of “Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “The Menagerie.”)

I have always fascinated by this episode. It gives a glimpse of Star Trek before it was the Star Trek we know and love. Everything is noticeably different: the uniforms, the props, the cast (with the exception of Spock), and the Enterprise herself. This is the only episode that shows the crew using paper print outs, and Pike has a TV in his quarters, which look completely different from Kirk's quarters later in the series. (Presumably, and quite reasonably, the Enterprise underwent a major refit when command passed from Pike to Kirk.)

As a story, “The Cage” is well done. In our podcast, we debate whether or not it is an effective pilot and whether Pike and his crew would have worked as well as Kirk and company. As far effectiveness goes, it accomplishes what a pilot is supposed to do: it introduces us to the characters, milieu, and situation. And given that “The Cage” is the only outing we have with what is actually the original cast, there's no way to know how things would've developed had “The Cage” been accepted by the network execs. That said, I will freely admit that it's hard to imagine having as much affection for Pike and his minions as I do for Kirk and the gang. But then again, I am almost as fond of the Next Gen characters as the TOS characters, so who knows.

What I do know is that after finishing the third season of Star Trek, one thing that stands out about “The Cage” is that it is a significantly more intelligent and sophisticated story than most of the season three episodes. In the first few minutes, Pike makes it clear that the stress and responsibility of command has worn him down to the point of seriously considering resigning. In one of my favorite scenes in all of Trek, Dr. Boyce (the ship's surgeon with a comb over that would give Donald Trump a run for his money) tells Pike: “A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away.” Pike isn't in a place where he can accept or really understand this, but the illusions the Talosians subject him to gradually bring him around.

First, he gets to experience the pastoral, idyllic life he mentioned to Dr. Boyce, and then he sees what it would be like to be a seamy slave trader. Neither experience lives up to what he imagines they would be, and as Vina points out, the Talosians have abandoned reality for a hollow, vicarious existence through illusion. And finally, in the end, Pike chooses death over captivity, because he realizes that physical death is preferable to losing everything that makes him a living, breathing human being.

This is an interesting commentary on what Roddenberry has called the “human condition.” It also addresses the very pertinent issue of drug addiction, especially the particularly insidious narcotic that is televised entertainment. (A nice bit of irony given that “The Cage” is televised entertainment.) And all of this is presented in the framework of Pike's existential crisis, with which most people can at least recognize if not sympathize.

So “The Cage” is a fascinating glimpse into Gene Roddenberry's original vision of Star Trek. And it is also an intelligent, thoughtful, very well written science fiction story I always enjoy watching. What it is not, however, is the Star Trek I fell in love with many years ago, which leaves me with a profound feeling of What If...

TOS Rewind #76: "Turnabout Intruder"

At long last we reach the end of the series with Turnabout Intruder

The podcast (surprisingly lengthy):

 

Eric starts us out (and gives me the last word, as it happens):

To quote The Grateful Dead (with a small change): What a long, great trip it's been.

And as I've said before (several times), I really regret that it ended with “Turnabout Intruder.” I rewatched this episode three times, once with my wife, to try to find something redeeming in it. No such luck. In our podcast, we raked this episode over the coals for being grossly sexist, a revolting, misogynistic polemic. I have no idea why or how Fred Freiberger (the third season showrunner) would have allowed this episode to be made. Even in the late sixties, I find it hard to believe it wouldn't have been seen as offensive and bigoted.

But aside from its stridently anti-feminist message, it's a poorly written and directed episode. Similar to the absurd plot of “The Mark of Gideon,” it's insulting to be expected to believe that Janice Lester could could obtain the detailed and confidential information necessary to convincingly impersonate/replace Captain Kirk, especially given how well the crew knows him. In addition, one would think that Starfleet would have some rather pointed questions about the questionable deaths of most of Dr. Lester's team.

The only thing reasonably positive I can say about “Turnabout Intruder” is that the acting is good across the board, especially considering the godawful dialog they had to work with. Bill Shatner also deserves a shout out for filming the episode while he had the flu. I was also impressed by the performance turned in by Sandra Smith, who plays Janice Lester. She actually sounds like a female version of Captain Kirk.

But even good acting cannot redeem such a hopelessly corrupt and bigoted story. It has cemented itself, in my opinion, as the worst episode of original Star Trek. Even so, I am loathe to end on a sour note: I want to say it's been a pleasure to rewatch every episode of Star Trek and talk about them with two of my best friends, John and Rob Knowles. Thanks especially to John for cooking up this crazy scheme!

In closing, I was born about a week before this final episode of Star Trek aired. It amazes me that that we're still watching and talking about the series after so many years. As John remarked in his written review of “All Our Yesterdays,” nostalgia can be powerful, and I'm certain it's at work with me and my fondness for Trek. But there's more to it than sentimentality. Despite blunders, and campiness, and the occasional laughable (or just plain sucky) episode, most of the stories are good. Several are amazing. They still capture and fire my imagination as they did when I was very young. I know my life would be different, probably not for the better, without Star Trek, so my eternal thanks go to Gene Roddenberry, the cast, and the crew who brought Star Trek to life. To them and anyone reading this, live long and prosper.

---

I seem to remember beginning each written review with a callout to what beverage I was enjoying at the time. Tonight it's some Irish Whisky...I'll take you home again, Kathleen!

So we reach the end of TOS with this POS. I can remember for many years having discussions with friends about what exactly is the lowest of the low for this show. For a while, I might have suggested "The Way to Eden" for its clumsy counter-culture commentary (hey, that's FOUR C'S!) or certainly "The Paradise Syndrome" with its supercharged Shatnerian performance as an American Indian reborn. My old friend Lee would always argue for "That Which Survives" as the low point. I would watch any of these instead of "Turnabout" anytime. All of the aforementioned subpar episodes have at least something to recommend them or are entertaining at times (intentionally or not). I can't really say this about this one. To remark that this episode is misogynistic is to do a grave disservice to misogynists everywhere. This is the time when you forget any hint of progressiveness that the show has ever possessed. Like the Star Wars prequels, I really find it best to just ignore this installment for no other episode tarnishes the brand of Star Trek quite like this one. 

"Turnabout Intruder" fails on multiple levels to tell any of its stories (expose on sexism in Starfleet, spurned ex-lover revenge story, etc)  except that it does portray a world where there is a definite glass ceiling (no one ever even bothers to dispute Lester's claims that the club of starship captains doesn't admit women) and that Starfleet is right to maintain it. The episode makes it pretty clear that women just can't be trusted with real power, for the only way a woman can gain power is by stealing it via a successful man's identity. The writers then refuse to allow Janice Lester to be a genuine villain by making her obviously insane. The story might have still been ridiculous if Lester had been just plain evil but by having her be batshit crazy AND incompetent, you can't take any of it seriously and you're left with a stupid story and heaps of sexist bullshit. 

It's a sign of lazy writing to make the regular characters act contrary to their nature or seem unusually incompetent. It doesn't pass the smell test that so many of the crew doesn't instantly know something is really whacked with Kirk, the way he's acting. Shit. And as much as people like to make fun of Shatner's acting, he's really just doing his job (while ill at the time this episode was shot, which doesn't show at all). Someone wrote this thing and approved it for production and that's where the blame should lie. I don't really want to spend much more time digging into this episode which I'd rather put out of my mind. So enough of the details of why the episode stinks. Watching it just makes me le sad.

I can only imagine how much of a bummer it must have been to be a fan of Star Trek in 1969, seeing this episode and knowing it was the end of the line. No one really suspected that the show would rise again and I would have taken this episode as a large NBC-Peacock shaped middle finger to end the troublesome series. I am only partway through the season 2 excellent Marc Cushman "These are the Voyages" book and look forward to his account of how the series ended. But from what I have learned, there were almost certainly other available scripts Fred Freiberger could have decided to shoot. Why, Fred, why?! We wouldn't be so hard on this episode if we didn't love the series so much. No one worries a whole lot about a rotten episode of Bonanza. We don't have the same high expectations of Star Trek's contemporaries. Of course a sign of a significant work of art or entertainment is its audience actually thinking about it beyond its success or failure as mass entertainment. 

Fortunately, this was not the end for Trek and while the show ended on a downer note, for me this does not diminish the high notes of the series at large. If you really love something, you have to accept it, warts and all. It has been rewarding to really dig into every part of this series that I've loved since I was a child. One of the highlights of this "little" project has been to watch this series in order in which it aired, something I had never done. The show doesn't really require that as it is very episodic, unlike much or today's television programming. I have some thoughts regarding the remastered effects but I think I'll work that in when we discuss The Cage.

While this isn't really the end of the line for this set of reviews (we're doing the original pilot, The Cage next), it is the end of the series. I can now sleep soundly knowing that much of the rest of the Original Series is great and the rest of the Trek universe is full of good (and bad) content. We have the current run of feature films, for better AND worse. And who knows, maybe Star Trek will return to the format where it really does best:  television. The time is right. Between the freedom to create new worlds and creatures using modern effects and the presence of high budget serious drama on cable, it could happen. There are plenty of creative constraints placed on television today but they are not all the same ones that made it so difficult for Star Trek to fulfill its mission. There is far greater creative freedom now and a guaranteed audience. Why not try something new?

Like Eric, I've greatly enjoyed going through this series (even the bad ones) with him and Rob. It's taken a LONG time to finish but we have. I am duly impressed that Eric sat through Turnabout Intruder three times; now that's taking one for the team. Once we record podcasts for the early episodes we didn't do the first time around, I am looking forward to continuing our discussions into other areas we all want to pursue. Thanks Eric and Rob, and anyone reading this. And now if you'll excuse me, it's almost THE RED HOUR!!!!


Next time:  The Cage

TOS Rewind #75: All Our Yesterdays

Today we look, ahem, back on All Our Yesterdays (3/14/1969)

The podcast for this episode:


What is it about time travel that is makes it such a compelling idea in science fiction? As often as the device is used, it is an often welcome trope in the genre, even today (Doctor Who, anyone?). There are many aspects that draw us to it, but one of the attractions of traveling in time is the idea of escape. Escape from any number of life's complications, for it can be easy to delude one's self into thinking that living in the past would be simpler and easier. I have plenty of nostalgic moments (the bulk of my YouTube videos are nostalgic in nature) and I am often thinking about the past but if I'm honest, I don't really think I'd rather live in any particular period of the past. However, I could think of worse ways to escape a planetary catastrophe than to travel into the past and live there (paradoxes notwithstanding).  In the case of this episode, an escape is made by the planet's inhabitants into their own past to escape the nova of their sun. There are plenty of holes one can poke in this idea but as a time travel story idea, I like it quite a bit.

We get so used to time travel plots in sci fi having certain sets of rules, mainly revolving around paradoxes, changing of history, etc but this story doesn't seem to concerned with that for, after all, having entire planet's population travel into its own past would seem to invite all sorts of complications where it comes to history. But the this time, the story goes with the wrinkle that anyone who travels into the past must be "prepared", as the episode calls it, so that his/her molecular structure matches up with the period being travelled to. The episode is pretty vague about how this works, fortunately, but it does specifically say that once you've gone through the time portal "prepared", you cannot come back to the present and live. Despite the fact that these rules are really in place to further the plot, I rather enjoyed a different take on the time travel theme.

The two main sections of this episode revolve around Kirk being trapped in what looks like 16th Century England/Disneyland and Spock/McCoy being stuck in an ancient ice age/stock footage. The Kirk subplot is rather simple and while his meeting one of the planet's future people fleshes out the story, this part is really just there to delay Spock and McCoy's situation from being resolved. The Kirk side of the story is entertaining, but you pretty much know how it's going to come out.

The Spock/McCoy section is by far the most interesting. By having Spock be trapped in a time period  long before Vulcans conquered their primitive emotions, we get to see him slowly revert to a more barbaric Spock, full of passion and yes, anger. Zarabeth, the woman who takes Spock and McCoy in, is actually an interesting character with a real background. Zarabeth is a political prisoner, trapped in the past by some despot. The prisoner can be forever trapped in the distant past and the dictator or whoever can say they didn't execute anyone. Clever. So Zarabeth is extremely happy to have some company and takes a liking to Spock. Spock, in his proto-Vulcan state, falls for Zarabeth. Eventually she reveals that she is only certain that she cannot go back; perhaps Spock and McCoy can.

This reveal is a good example of how well the episode is paced and its information given out. We the viewers don't really understand the whole story and the details are dished up very strategically. We rarely feel like we're far ahead of the characters with regards to what's going on with the story. Not every episode handles this so well. The way that Spock struggles with his emotions is acted well by Nimoy and this is where the interplay between Spock and McCoy really plays well. McCoy realizes what's going on and at the risk of Spock losing his shit and possibly kicking his ass, has to push things with the now emotional Vulcan to try and get home. The scenes between the three of them feel genuine and allow us to invest in the characters enough that the ending scene where Spock and McCoy ponder the now long dead Zarabeth is quite touching. I should also point out that Mariette Hartley really sells her roll which is fortunately well written. 

There are things here and there that one can criticize, such as the silly scenes with the librarian, Mr. Atoz (har har) but for the most part this is a strong episode, one of the best of the season. That's not saying much I realize. It would have been far better for them to have ended the series with this episode, a bright spot of the season. This is still a personal favorite I will most definitely return to.

---
Eric's take:

2015 is turning out to be a bad year for the original Star Trek cast. Leonard Nimoy passed away on February 27^th, and Grace Lee Whitney, who portrayed Janice Rand, died last Friday, May 1^st. Yeoman/Commander Rand appeared in the first season of original Trek as well as Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Star Trek II, IV, and VI, and an episode of Star Trek: Voyager. Ms. Whitney lived to the venerable age of 85 and will be fondly remembered and missed. RIP. 

On that sad note, we come to “All Our Yesterdays,” the penultimate episode of Star Trek: The Original Series. As has been mentioned several times, I and my fellow podcasters fervently wished this had been the last episode. It is one of the best of the third season, and (like many Trek episodes) takes its title from Shakespeare, in this case, “Macbeth:”

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death.

- Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5)

I won't rehash our entire podcast, but the idea behind this episode is that the inhabitants of the planet Sarpeidon escape the impending disaster of their sun going supernova by traveling into their own history. The time travel aspect is hardly new, but it introduces an interesting twist by making it necessary for people to have their physiology adjusted by the Atavachron (the time machine) so that they can live in the past permanently. This aspect of time travel was never discussed in any other Star Trek episode, and I don't recall ever reading or seeing anything about it in non-Trek SF. It also forms the basis of a crucial plot point when Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are faced with the imperative to return to the present or die.

In terms of drama and storytelling, the B plot, Kirk in Sarpeidon's equivalent of the sixteenth or seventeenth century in England, is entertaining but not inspired. Spock and McCoy in the planet's last ice age, however, is excellent. The idea that Spock would revert to the mental state of Vulcans of that era (i.e. pre-logic) is interesting, especially given the suggestion that it might be due to him not having been processed by the Atavachron. It is Leonard Nimoy's performance, though, that really sells it. He makes Spock's regression subtle but steady and utterly convincing. This is one of Nimoy's best performances. And Mariette Hartley, who guest stars as Zarabeth, does an excellent job playing a woman who is desperate from crushing loneliness. This is due in part to Hartley's solid acting and partly to what is surprisingly good writing for the end of the third season. Zarabeth is portrayed as a strong, smart woman who is, as McCoy points out, highly motivated. In our podcast, we talk about “Misogyny Corner,” but in this episode, there really is nothing that fits in that category. (This is particularly remarkable given the next, final episode “Turnabout Intruder.”)

Finally, it is poignant, and perhaps ironic, that Zarabeth cannot return to the present with Spock, for the same reason that Spock cannot remain in the past with her—Zarabeth has had her physiology adjusted by the Atavachron and Spock has not. 

On a personal note, I greatly appreciate the economy and effectiveness of the dialog in “All Our Yesterdays.” In screenplays, it is often necessary to do exposition via dialog, but that is also difficult, and it is frequently done poorly. Not so in this episode. Kudos to the writer(s)!

I also want to mention that this episode was the springboard for one of the best Star Trek novels: “Yesterday's Son” by the late A.C. Crispin.

In closing, the only major complaint I have is that the librarian is named Atoz (A to Z). Really?! Oh well, that is a minor flaw in an otherwise good, if not excellent, episode. If only it had been the last one aired...

Next time: “Turnabout Intruder”

TOS Rewind #74: "The Savage Curtain"

Help me, Spock! For today we get to review, The Savage Curtain (3/7/1969)

Here's the podcast:



This is an episode that I may slightly like more today than I did in my youth. The space scenes are practically nonexistent and the hand to hand combat is, shall we say, lacking. However, today I appreciate some of the other elements that didn't mean a whole lot then.

Alas, we have here another Trek story where some random aliens test humanity (or at least humanoids, as there is a Klingon and a Vulcan in the mix) by pitting our heroes against some notorious opponents. The concept, in its broad form was pretty tired by this time in the run of the series and you can just imagine the writer(s) scratching their heads to come up with a new wrinkle on the formula.

How about having the crew meet Abraham Lincoln?!

As goofy as the premise of the giant floating image of Abe in space is, I rather enjoyed the scenes were Lincoln is aboard the Enterprise. Kirk is obviously thrilled to be meeting one of his personal heroes and the other members of the crew play along. Of course Kirk knows he isn't meeting the real Abe but plans to enjoy the encounter while he tries to figure out just what's going on. Kirk gives a scaled back "risk is our business" talk while he and the crew debate beaming down to the alien planet with Mr. Lincoln. Again, this is a redo but I didn't mind it so much.

Once the action turns to the planet's surface, the game begins with the introduction by a representative of the world's inhabitants, a weird rock creature with pincers for hands. Fun. The costume/effect for the alien is not so bad, especially for a budget-starved Third Season episode. At this point we meet Surak, the remaining "good" guy and the "evil" opponents. There is enough time spent with Surak that we get some actual development of the Vulcan peoples' backstory. Surak, the original hippy Vulcan, does live true to his ideals. Those ideals are ones that Spock understands, even if he doesn't necessarily agree with them. Spock always has more flexibility which is true to his character. I enjoyed seeing Spock alongside a different Vulcan character besides Spock's father. 

Surak, and the introduction of Kahless, the Klingon figure give this episode more importance than it might otherwise merit. Unfortunately the villains are poorly represented. Kahless is introduced and does little else but participate in the melee. Genghis Kahn and Zora (?) are just filler, though Kahn does get to throw a few spears. Colonel Green is the only one of the baddies that has any character at all and he's pretty predictable. Philip Pine gives a good performance as the sleazy despot who talks about mutual cooperation while he plans to attack. In the end, the episode doesn't really have enough time to fully explore the good v. evil ideas and gives us a pat unsatisfying conclusion. The crew is victorious and the aliens learn some dubious things about good and evil. So, with all these planets where apparently powerful life forms capture and torment Federation people, does Starfleet just tell everyone to avoid the area like the plague or do they get a force of ships to come back and deliver some payback?

So, I'm sure Eric will label this one with a resounding "meh". I have to say, the episode is quite flawed and derivative but it does stick with me. Or maybe I'm just grading this one on a season 3 curve.

Eric?

---

“The Savage Curtain” is yet another mehpisode, but I am somewhat fond of it because it features Abraham Lincoln (or Kirk's conception of Lincoln). I too am fascinated by our sixteenth President. And having him show up in the teaser is actually fairly effective as a hook. It is also interesting to see Surak for the first time. He behaves as one would expect the father of Vulcan philosophy to act. And it's fun to meet Kahless as well, although he does nothing except scowl and fight. (The founder of the Klingon warrior tradition is given much better treatment in TNG and DS9.) But this is where the positives end.

The plot of an alien intelligence testing the Enterprise crew is derivative and pointless. At least in “Arena” there is a sense that Kirk might lose to the Gorn. But here there is no doubt that Kirk and Spock and their heroes will win. And the contrived motivation of the Enterprise engines exploding after X number of minutes/hours is beyond tiresome at this point.

The plot offers no surprises or real interest. The only villain with any appreciable lines is Col. Greene, and he is predictably teacherous. In the end, no real people die and nothing of consequence happens. Yarnek and his fellow Excalbians gain no appreciation of the difference between good and evil, despite the pseudo-philosophic discussion with Kirk. The only effect that might be positive is that Kirk and Spock feel they've met monumental historical figures, but even then, Lincoln and Surak are only Kirk and Spock's idealized versions—thrilling for them, no doubt, but ultimately meaningless. Which also sums up “The Savage Curtain.”

Next time: “All Our Yesterdays”

TOS Rewind #73: "The Cloud Minders"

Up next:  The Cloud Minders (2/28/1969)

Our podcast:

 

This time, Kirk and the Enterprise crew get a lesson in, uh, labor relations?

Okay, so not quite. We're back in the familiar trope of dealing with a society where the division of labor and the fruits thereof are pretty well divided into haves and have-nots. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? A difference this time is that the society in question is on a planet that is a member of the Federation, not some backwater primitive planet. Unfortunately this is one of the few elements of this episode that doesn't feel like a complete retread. 

Once again, the Enterprise is sent to deliver some Unobtainium ("Zenite") to combat a deadly plague on some other world and time is of the essence. Kirk must do (sigh) anything to deliver the goods. The needed shipment gives Kirk the justification to meddle in the conflict going on and once again show those guys how cool we Earthers are. Heh. At least this time we don't have the Prime Directive standing in the way. 

The setting for most of the episode, the cloud city (years before Star Wars), is interesting and the sets more distinctive than most third season episodes. Also, distinctive is the outfit worn by Droxine (what a name!), the daughter of the planet's leader. She is obviously interested in Spock and while I'm always glad to see Spock recognized for his appeal to the ladies, the scenes between the two range from awkward to silly. Also silly is Spock's internal monologue which states the obvious and seems out of place. 

The Zenite fails to appear and Kirk, after several arguments with Plasus, the leader, decides to deal directly with the workers to get the shipment. The toxic gas that effects the brains of the workers in the mines seems like a contrivance, and really not a necessary one. Isn't the issue of inequality itself enough without the gas? The use of masks allows the episode to have a showdown between Kirk and Plasus, which is amusing/dramatic but it also gives us a false sense of closure. The workers may now be smartening up but the conflict itself is far from resolved. 

I like the fact that the leader of the workers is a woman; nice change there. Plasus is a pompous ass but he seems credible, given the scenario, though he seems unmoved by the events of the story. As we don't really have any way of knowing what becomes of the society once the Enterprise is on its way, the episode doesn't really have much impact other than, "those silly people, not using masks!" So we're left with a story where we care more about how Kirk and the crew deal with the task at hand than we do with the conflict of the planet. I enjoy seeing the characters work around these obstacles but it feels a bit stale. This is a far cry from "seek out new life and new civilizations".


---
And now Eric's turn:

With “The Cloud Minders,” we're back to another mehpisode. Like its companion mehpisodes, the basic idea (in this case, the inherent problems and immorality of a society malignantly separated into Haves and Have-Nots), is interesting and worth exploring, but the execution is lacking. 

To begin with, I'm sick and tired of the “In order to stop a deadly plague, the Enterprise must obtain ____ substance, available only from ____ planet.” And, of course, there is a time imperative and there is some obstacle to obtaining the desperately needed substance. This plot device is so overused in third season Star Trek, it's like fingernails scraping a chalkboard.

I'm also perplexed by the reason for having the raw zenite emit a gas that affects the mental status and capabilities of anyone who breathes it. I suppose an argument can be made that it was needed as an excuse for the stratosians' bigotry against the troglytes (a blatant derivation of the term “troglodyte”) who labor in the mines on the planet. It also sets up the confrontation at the end of the episode, but it is still a rather obvious plot device that serves no real purpose—bigots such as the stratosians need no justification for their bigotry.

What I did like about this episode is that, ultimately, nothing is resolved between the stratosians and the troglytes. Kirk gets the zenite, and the troglytes get the gas masks that they need to protect them from the debilitating zenite gas. They're still the Have-Nots, and the stratosians are still very much the Haves, but with their improved mental status, the troglyte impetus to rebel will be even greater and more cunning. As the troglyte Vanna says “...our demands have just begun!” So Plasus, the stratosian leader, and his ilk have a big problem on their hands, and they richly deserve it.

Next time:  "The Savage Curtain"

TOS Rewind #72: The Way to Eden

Groovy!  It's time for The Way to Eden.

Our swingin' podcast for this episode:



So let's get this out of the way now:  this is by no means the worst episode of the series. I may have placed the episode near the bottom when I was growing up (the honor for my least favorite during those years goes to this one) but today it seems to have slightly more to recommend it.

The outrageously campy outfits and songs are entertaining in of themselves which elevates the episode to at least the level of Spock's Brain. However, it's better than that, but first let's get the bad stuff out of the way.

Star Trek often made commentary on the issues of its time but it did this best when it was not quite so literal. By having the people portraying the youth counterculture be so much like real 1960s hippies (well, at least Hollywood's idea of them), it comes off as tone-deaf as a 1969 episode of Dragnet where the cops have to deal with LSD-using kids. 

The characters are dressed in super-groovy costumes and one of them even plays pseudo-folk music on his space-guitar. The whole thing is amusing, at least until the songs wear out their welcome, but extremely hard to take seriously. The flip side to this is the way the episode has most of the usual cast being so stiff and humorless. Kirk's "inflexibility" is a cheap way to garner sympathy for the seekers of Eden. This gets to a problem: the episode doesn't really want us to take the characters very seriously. Their leader, Dr. Sevrin, is morally compromised, if not actually insane and the others follow him without challenge. Only Irina, Chekov's love interest, seems to question him and does nothing even when it becomes obvious that he will kill to achieve his goals. The others are painted as childish, to the point of having one of the characters be the son of an important Federation official, and only interested in having a good time. Maybe you shouldn't put your idealistic dreams in the hands of a Nazi!

The saving grace of the script is the way life in the Federation is questioned. The characters are skeptical of modernity, as it appears to work in the 23rd Century. People seem to spend a lot of time in artificial environments and eat replicated food. It seems only fitting that some portion of the population might question or outright reject this life. The way this subject is approached is fairly weak but at least it's being brought up. This angle is helped by Spock voicing this point of view; he is apparently at least understanding if not sympathetic to this idea. Of course Spock is way too cool to be lumped in with the Squares like Kirk and Scotty. The plot point of having "Eden" being located within the Romulan Neutral Zone seems like an unnecessary story driver. Having the space hippies commandeer the Enterprise wasn't enough?

The acting is mostly fine, considering the way the characters are written but the songs are pretty bad and seem there partially to pad out the running time. This may be one of the only times where the syndication cuts of the series might actually improve the episode. The actor playing Irina has this horrible Russian accent that makes Natasha from the Bullwinkle cartoons seem authentic but I suspect she was directed to read her lines this way. Beyond being just stiff and uncool, Kirk and the others seem oddly ineffectual; Sevrin seems to gain control of the ship way too easily. Skip_Homeier, who plays Sevrin also played Melakon on the episode Patterns of Force, does well with what he's given to do. It's no surprise that he had a long career as a character actor. He manages to appear serious even with those bizarre ears.

Sometimes you just have to laugh and go with the flow, brothers and sisters.

---

Eric's turn:

I'm taaaaalkin 'bout... “The Way to Eden,” possibly the cheesiest episode of Star Trek ever produced. The closest contender, at least in original Trek, is “Spock's Brain,” but I find “The Way to Eden” to be more fun. Maybe it's the music...

Seriously, I see this episode as a follow-up to the first season's “This Side of Paradise,” where Kirk proposes that humans “...can't stroll to the music of the lute. We must march to the sound of drums.” In “The Way to Eden,” however, we see a group of people determined to defy that way of life. Unfortunately, the treatment of the “space hippies” is grossly uneven. They are portrayed as fatuous, even puerile, but under Dr. Sevrin, they manage to knock out the Enterprise crew and effect an escape from the ship. I suppose my gripe is the disparity between the hippies' trappings and their intent.

As is typical of third season episodes, the idea being explored is interesting, but the execution is lousy. Apparently, the producers were unaware of the nature of the 60s counter-culture. I wasn't there for it, but everything I've seen and heard leads me to believe the flower children didn't dress and wear tattoos that look like a 6-year old girl's pastel dream house. And their music, although kinda fun in a laughable way, bears no resemblance to the music of the counter-culture. At first, I thought the reason for these errors was contempt on the part of the producers, but after further pondering, I think it was more ignorance and a profound lack of creativity and imagination. They (Fred Freiberger and co.) simply thought that those kids would dig the crazy costumes and hair. Sigh...

Setting aside that egregious blunder, our intrepid, 23^rd century flower children actually have an understandable, not unreasonable, goal: to free themselves from the complexity and artificiality of life in the highly technological Federation. And Spock understands this, he even supports it (with the caveat that they really shouldn't follow their resident nut job, Dr. Sevrin). In fact, the strongest validation of their purpose comes from Spock at the end of the episode when he tells Irina “I have no doubt but that you will find [Eden], or make it yourselves.”

Next time: “The Cloud Minders”

TOS Rewind #72: "Requiem for Methuselah"

Well look what folks in 1969 got to watch on Valentine's Day:

Requiem for Methuselah (2/14/1969)

Our podcast discussion:


Those few who tuned in that night didn't exactly get a happy romance, though I suppose if you're home watching Star Trek on a Friday night Valentine's Day, then maybe the bummer of a love story works somehow; or doesn't work, but I'll get into that below.

I have to say that the premise of an immortal person who has lived throughout the ages, a witness to history, alone with himself, is an intriguing one. It's as if the people who came up with the Highlander films wanted to take this idea a step further, where the main character becomes almost a superhero. Instead of a bad-ass sword fighter, we get an old man who's been many of history's great figures and artists. That part gets a bit silly, "yeah, if there's any art you liked, it was probably done by me". The more credible, as far as it goes, idea is that of the immortal person who really is just the witness, not the subject. The character becomes slightly more plausible if he makes more of an attempt to not be noticed as the centuries go on. I also had to question how this guy would have such immense power. He is still a human being, right? He's not a Q or other omnipotent being. Flint may have lots of wealth (it's mentioned that the planet he's on was "purchased") and access to any of humanity's technology, but the things he's able to do seem way out of whack with anything anyone in the Federation can do. Also, at the end of the episode, McCoy says that Flint is going to age and die at a normal age, having left the Earth. Isn't it funny that Flint doesn't know this?

Having said all of this about Flint, I mostly liked the character. Part of the reason for this is the way that James Daley does the role; he really sells the "been there/seen that" business. Flint also seems to have gotten all the best dialogue lines of the episode. Sure, Flint's robot seems to be made from an old kitchen colander and spare parts from Nomad, but he sure has a lot of tricks up his sleeve, including a convincing android companion.

The romance angle of this episode is the real problem for me. I just don't buy the way that Kirk falls totally in love with Rayna within a few hours time. Maybe in a different story with different characters, this might be believable, but not with Kirk. There's also a somewhat creepy, underdeveloped father-daughter thing between Flint and Rayna. At first, we think she's been created to be a platonic companion or child figure. Sure, this sounds like the problematic relationship between Morbius and Altaira in Forbidden Planet, a film that Star Trek owes much to, but there is later on,  a definite romantic angle when it becomes clear that Flint, who eventually gets jealous,  wants Kirk to "show her the ropes," in a manner of speaking. Kirk can always be counted on to take care of this of course but it's unlike him to get emotionally attached, especially once it's been revealed that Rayna is an android. The final scene where Spock melds with Kirk to make him forget her is touching, mainly due to the affection the main characters have for each other, but rings hollow for me as Kirk's emotional state doesn't feel right.

Star Trek often explores ideas within its stories. There are two main concepts presented in this episode:  the nature of a man who does not age and artificial life. Either one of these ideas would have been more than enough material for a single episode but within this one, both are shortchanged, particularly when it comes to an android attempting to grapple with emotions. This issue was dealt with more effectively elsewhere in Trek; What Are Little Girls Made Of, for example and multiple Next Generation episodes.

The only comment I have about the remastering for this episode is that the imagery they used to depict Flint's castle seems way too over the top. It's nice to see something other than the reused painting from "The Cage", but this seems to have gone a bit far.

---

Eric?

As I write this, I am still saddened by the loss of Leonard Nimoy on February 27^th. Science fiction has been an important part of my life for as long as I can remember, and that love affair began with Star Trek and its most vital element, Spock. He was the mirror that was held up to humanity, and he came to embody all that is best in Star Trek. As a literary character, Spock's only rival is, perhaps, the redoubtable Sherlock Holmes. And while Gene Roddenberry created Spock, Leonard Nimoy brought him so endearingly to life. For that, Mr. Nimoy has my undying gratitude. He was 83 when he passed, and in addition to acting, directing, and producing, he was also an accomplished poet and photographer. More importantly, by all accounts, he was a genuinely decent, loving person. Indeed, he lived long and prospered.

And appropriately, “Requiem for Methuselah” has an excellent example of why Spock is a great character. In our podcast for this episode, I was fairly harsh. Since then, however, I rewatched it a second time and found some themes I previously missed. Consequently, my opinion of it has improved. 

“Requiem for Methuselah” was written by noted science fiction author, the late Jerome Bixby, who also penned the classic episode “Mirror, Mirror” and the not-quite-so-classic, but still excellent, “By Any Other Name” and “Day of the Dove.” (As a side note, Bixby's last screenplay was for the 2007 film, “The Man From Earth,” which deals with themes and characters similar to those in “Requiem for Methuselah.” I highly recommend it.)

Initially, I found it rather ridiculous that Kirk could fall so deeply in love with Rayna in such a short time. After my second rewatching, though, it made more sense. Kirk and Flint are alike in many ways: they are both strong, authoritative, charismatic, masculine, and very lonely. And since Flint designed Rayna to be his perfect companion, it's not unreasonable that Kirk would quickly find her to be an ideal match as well.

More importantly, however, I found an interesting theme that is closely related to what Mary Shelley examined in her classic novel “Frankenstein.” Flint, like Shelley's Doctor Frankenstein, successfully creates human life in a laboratory using non-living material. Unlike Frankenstein, however, Flint's creation, Rayna, ultimately fails. And the way she fails is actually poignant; she can't live with the intensity of her newly awakened emotions for both Kirk and Flint. Interestingly, both Flint and Frankenstein ultimately suffer Rayna's fate, except where Rayna is guilty of nothing, their crime is hubris. It doesn't matter that one succeeded where the other failed.

Finally, in our podcast I was unduly harsh in my assessment of the closing scene where Spock, in an act of touching compassion, removes Rayna from Kirks memory in order to ease his friend's pain. This is actually a good example of what I noted in my opening comments: Leonard Nimoy's portrayal of Spock lends such a beautifully endearing quality to the character. I have a new appreciation for both.

Next time: “The Way to Eden”