More Star Trek episode essays

August 30, 1991

Quick recap for those people who just started reading CBG, or else missed last week’s issue for some reason–this is continuing a presentation of a series of essays I was hired to write on a dozen or so episodes of the original Star Trek television show. The ones that saw print in Starlog’s 25th Anniversary Special celebrating the TV series had any hint of criticism systematically excised, and such cloying phrases as “This was an imaginative conclusion to a grand Star Trek adventure” tacked on, with my name still affixed to these one-note adulations. These changes came courtesy of Paramount, and were not limited to my essays alone.

It’s amazing to me that there are those at Paramount who are so thin-skinned that they think essays about Star Trek in a licensed product cannot have humor, or reflect the genuine feelings of the author. I’m certain this philosophy does not come from Gene Roddenberry. After all, David Gerrold’s World of Star Trek featured a number of scathing criticisms of the original series, and most of his observations were incorporated in Next Generation. Gene Roddenberry obviously feels secure enough in his series to deal with critiques. A pity that others don’t.

Errand of Mercy

The Klingons were originally described as the Mongol hordes of space, and no where was that more evident than here, in their first appearance.

Kirk and Spock beam down to Organia and try to warn of an oncoming invasion by the Klingons. Frustrated by the passive brush-off by the Organians, the Captain and first officer are then stuck in the middle when the Klingons show up. The Enterprise officers wage a two-man guerilla war against the invaders before the Organians reveal themselves to be ultra-powerful beings, who force a peace between the Enterprise and the Klingons and even predict that one day the two warring factions would be allies…a prediction which pays off a mere quarter of a century later (our time) in the presence of Lieutenant Worf.

The Organian Peace Treaty, as it came to be known later, set the stage for most of the subsequent Enterprise/Klingon encounters. Crisply written by Gene L. Coon, “Errand of Mercy” manages to show the stupidity of war without becoming excessively preachy.

It also introduces (with all deference to Michael Dorn) the best Klingon in Trek history: the formidable Commander Kor. Brilliantly portrayed by John Colicos, Kor is the Klingon counterpart of Kirk; more alike than they’d ever admit, similar even in names. He performs the remarkable stunt of being vicious while, at the same time, polite and even regretful. Kor acts as if he’d much rather not perform such duties as slaughter and torture–he’s forced into the situation of having to use the Klingon Mind sifter (“Mind Ripper, if you will”), and appears almost apologetic…yet you cannot help but be certain that he’s enjoying it immensely.

He’s summed up in his final words, one of the most memorable closing lines in all of Trek. When he realizes that his beloved war is to be thwarted at the hands of the omnipotent Organians, he says wistfully, “It would have been glorious…”

The Doomsday Machine

There are two Trek episodes which feature (a) obvious roots and (b) some of the most tense space sequences in the history of the show. The first of “Balance of Terror,” with its story lifted straight out of “Run Silent, Run Deep” and other submarine films.

The other is “The Doomsday Machine,” Norman Spinrad’s edge-of-the-seat redress of “Moby Ðìçk.”

Commodore Matt Decker loses his crew, the men and women of the Constellation, to the planet-devouring appetite of the space-going ultimate weapon of the title. The loss unhinges him and, with Kirk stuck aboard the nigh-helpless Constellation, Decker takes over the Enterprise and almost winds up setting a Starfleet record for most commands lost in the shortest time.

Finally, forcibly relieved of command by Spock (in the exchange that climaxed in the now-famous “Vulcans never bluff”) Decker overpowers in a security guard (in a very nicely staged action scene that was the only one to ever show a vaguely futuristic style of fighting), nabs a shuttlecraft and suicidally hurls it straight into the Doomsday Machine. Decker is toast (literally) but sets the stage for the monster’s defeat. And Decker’s son, Will (presumably conceived before this) goes on to show up in “Star Trek: The Motion Picture”

The Captain Ahab parallels are obvious although, in a nice touch, Decker also evokes memories of Captain Queeg, fiddling with two little pieces of plastic in lieu of steel balls. William Windom’s Decker is a fully realized tragic hero, and we can’t help but wonder how Kirk would have handled such a loss. Would he have cracked, as Decker did? We’ll never know.

It should be noted that Decker is one of a parade of individuals whom Kirk encountered in his Academy Days…every one of whom came to some dismal fate. Reunions with Kirk weren’t fun.

This episode also provided a memorable entry for the Trek blooper reel: Leonard Nimoy disgustedly forgetting a line midway through and warning, “If you do not veer off, I shall…blow my brains out.” Now that’s a threat to conjure with.

The Changeling

Quick: Name two original Trek characters who died and came back.

The obvious one is Spock. And then, if you’ll think a moment or two, you might recall Montgomery Scott, who was killed and then brought back within the space of a few minutes by the formidable Nomad, a.k.a. “The Changeling.”

For every parent who ever whined, “My children never call, never write, never come back to visit me,” this episode will cure them of that. Nomad was originally an earth probe (created by one Jackson Roykirk) which encountered some sort of space-going machine sentience (the Borg? Hmmm?) and now, through a mishap of programming, goes around obliterating all life forms not deemed “Perfect.” Upon encountering the Enterprise, it mistakes James T. Kirk for Jackson Roykirk, taking Kirk to be its father, and decides to return to earth to sterilize that planet for imperfections.

Nomad almost trashes the Enterprise before Kirk points out that Nomad, in having erred as to Kirk’s identity, is not perfect. Nomad, realizing the truth of this, blows himself up (although graciously waiting until they’ve managed to beam him off the ship.) Kirk’s display of logic elicits a compliment from the master logician himself, Spock. Kirk then stupidly serves up the straight line, “Didn’t think I had it in me, did you, Spock,” to which the Vulcan flatly replies, “No sir.”

What I remember most about this episode is what happened some years later when David Gerrold, at a Trek convention, asked a ballroom full of gullible Trek fans (myself included) , “By the way, do you know how you make Nomad float?” To which we replied, “How?” And Gerrold responded, “Two scoops of ice cream, some club soda, and Nomad.”

I’ll get him for that someday.

A Piece of the Action

Okay, youse mugs, so what’cha got here is a, whattaya call, classic episode that features those mugs, Koik, Spock-O, and Sawbones in a major-league caper straight outta Damon Runyon.

Seems there was this ship called the Horizon, visited his joint called Iotia. And they left a book behind called Chicago Mobs of the 1920s. And the Iotians, being, whattaya call, imitative…they made this here book their personal bible and built their whole culture on it.

So Koik, Spock-O and Sawbones figure they gotta fix it, see? ‘Cept the gangster stuff is so much a part of the Iotian culture that the only thing they can do is play along. So Koik–and ya gotta admit, the joe learns fast–puts together, like, his own mob, with 430 guys, some serious muscle, and enough heaters to knock out a whole block of mugs without breakin’ sweat. Koik tells the Iotian bosses, Jojo Krako and Bela Oxmyx, that they gotta make nice to each other and with the Federation, ’cause the Feds are movin’ on in. And Koik plays Jake with the Iotians and the Iotians gotta, you know, be square with each other. And Koik tells us what the scams gonna be, and that’s all she wrote.

Me, I’m still tryin’ to figure out how this blower that Sawbones left behind works. ‘Cause I got me a feeling that when I do, I’ll be cuttin’ myself in for a piece of the action.

Assignment: Earth

Clearly intended as a spin off for a new series (you can tell because Robert Lansing, as the mysterious Gary Seven, is the only guest star ever to be credited at the beginning of the first act) Assignment: Earth was a nifty little time travel story that expanded upon the snapping-around-the-sun stunt pulled in “Tomorrow is Yesterday” (and was integral to Star Trek IV).

The Enterprise returns to earth of the late 60s and encounters Gary Seven–an earthling raised by equally mysterious aliens. Armed with a smart-ášš computer and a nasty little pen/weapon called a servo, Seven appears determined to cause a rocket mishap that will trigger World War III. Seven’s allies are a shape-shifting cat named Isis and a slightly addled secretary, Roberta Lincoln (Teri Garr.) Kirk and Spock race to stop him while, at the same time, realizing that they’re not in their correct time and could quite possibly cause more harm than good.

A fairly tongue-in-cheek episode, as most of the time travel to (then) contemporary earth seemed to be, “Assignment: Earth” was the last episode of the second season and, until the massive write-in campaign, almost became the last episode, period. It was scripted by Art Wallace and Roddenberry and, although it never made it as a pilot, Roddenberry (along with Gene Coon) recycled a number of the basic concepts into “The Questor Tapes.” “Questor” was, in execution and style, superior to “Assignment: Earth,” and yet was no more successful in selling. And then elements of “Questor” were grafted into Lieutenant Commander Data,” which just goes to show that if you keep with an idea, sooner or later you’ll hit paydirt with it.

Robert Lansing went on to be the Equalizer’s ex-boss, and Teri Garr went on to hook up with even more eccentric people than Gary Seven, such as a mad scientist, a guy who built mountains in his living room, and a guy who talked to God, before finally ending up taking showers on David Letterman.

The Enterprise Incident

A very curious episode in which virtually everyone and everything is out of character, and yet, by and large, it works.

Kirk has apparently been thrown against one-too-many bulkheads because it would seem he’s completely lost it. Seemingly acting on his own, he sends the Enterprise into Romulan space, gets captured and then killed at Spock’s hands. Spock has a dalliance with the female Romulan commander (leading to all kinds of later-year fan speculation as to the possible parentage of the half-Romulan/half-Vulcan Lieutenant Saavik), Kirk disguises himself as a Romulan (a scheme revealed to Mr. Scott in the sickbay in a scene that looked as if Shatner, in pointed ears and eyebrows, is desperately trying to keep a straight face. Scott’s expression is priceless.) and eventually we learn that it was all a scheme to get the Romulan cloaking device. A nifty stunt which has never been followed up on for the remainder of the third season and, for that matter, five feature films and four seasons of Next Generation.

Ostensibly inspired by the Pueblo spying incident, “Enterprise Incident” offers us a very curious and one-time-only view of the Federation. The Enterprise on a spy mission? Spock flirting (albeit it in the line of duty.) And why did Chapel know that there was no such thing as a Vulcan death grip, but the Romulans–a Vulcan off-shoot race, for crying out loud–didn’t.

Yet for all that, the show is entertaining (especially compared to much of the rest of the third season.) The reason is two fold: First, the acting was a cut above much of that season, especially in the very carefully handled seduction scene between Spock and the Romulan Commander (Joanne Linville.) Amazingly, simple stroking of fingers had a remarkable unearthly erotic charge to it.

Secondly, the script presented everyone acting strangely, giving the viewers the feeling of anticipation: the audience knew something was wrong, and was anxious to find out what it was. That the cause was a spy mission prompted fans to say, “Oh, that’s what this is all about” and admire the Mission: Impossible-like cunning, rather than say, “But…Starfleet doesn’t do that kind of thing.”

Turnabout Intruder

This, the last episode of Trek, had potential to be the most ludicrous of the series. Credit Shatner here: He pulled it off.

Janice Lester (Sandra Smith) enacts a mind-switch and takes over Kirk’s body, depositing Kirk’s body in hers. S/he now has command of the Enterprise and proceeds to act in such a loopy manner that all the senior officers turn against her.

If this episode were done today, it would have been a panic to focus more on the womanizing Kirk, trapped in a female body. As it is, the story is more about Lester-as-Kirk.

Perhaps this is preferable, since Sandra Smith is never totally convincing as Kirk-as-Lester, picking up none of Shatner’s cadences or mannerisms that would have made it a fully credible performance. On the other hand, given the constraints of series television, it’s possible Smith never even met Shatner before filming began, so she can’t be faulted.

Shatner, on the other hand, has a field day. He runs the emotional gamut, from swaggering, quiet confidence at the beginning of the impersonation, and then desperation as things fall apart until he is, as Scotty puts it, “red-faced with hysteria.” Shatner as a female is by turns dangerous (the deadly “Go to your posts” warning to Sulu and Chekov), hilarious (never more so than in a scene with McCoy in which Kirk is calmly, and understatedly, filing his nails, without quite crossing the line into limp-wristed parody), and even downright spooky (Lester-as-Kirk is virtually breathing in the ear of his/her lover, Dr. Arthur Coleman, one hand on Coleman’s shoulder, convincing Coleman that Kirk-as-Lester must die.)

One wonders what was going through Coleman’s mind when he aided Lester in the transformation. His girlfriend was going to be in a man’s body. If this rather decisive alteration in their sex life was disturbing to him, he didn’t indicate it. As it is, the plan is thwarted, Janice Lester is back in her body, and Coleman consoles her with, “You are as I have loved you.” If any two people ever deserved each other, it’s them.

And, as giddily entertaining as the episode was, Trek deserved better than to have that episode–and season–be the final word. Fortunately, it got it.

Peter David, writer of stuff, will be writing at length about Terminator 2 next week, including discussing the extremely curious time paradoxes presented therein. Spoilers will abound, so if you want to read the essay, not have plot points blown for you, and still intend to see the movie, either see it within the next seven days or else clip and save next week’s entry until you’ve had a chance to take it in. Consider yourself warned.