Saturday, May 9, 2009

JJ Abrams' "Star Trek" early review: Too much and too little, but at what cost?

Well, director/producer/overlord JJ Abrams certainly went right for it in the movie that will no doubt come to be the cornerstone to whatever career he has henceforth. Whether it is a solid or a crumbling cornerstone is, curiously, still unclear to me after I've watched the film. It will much depend upon the intelligent reflection of viewers everywhere and if they bother to intelligently reflect. There's lots to like in the new Trek flick, but also lots of choices I disagree with. Most of those are because I think they don't work well cinematically, while some display a reckless treatment of the existing Star Trek mythos that could have easily been avoided but were nonetheless consciously selected. Almost as though JJ, smart little asshole that he is, wanted to give Trekkies lots and lots of carrots, but then also whip us on the ass with some sticks, implying that "Okay, girls and boys, this is MY universe now and I can do whatever I please with it, science and story and decency be damned."

The pros and cons:

1. Sweet and catchy theme music. Very nice. But Mr. Abrams, did you have to bludgeon us to death with it?

2. Pacing is nonstop. There was never a moment to catch my breath as a viewer, which led to cinematic hyperventilation. Everything was story, story, story--the rather convenient double exile to "Delta Vega" should have been a lull or core or plateau to the film but instead it's filled with an asinine monster chase sequence that has no meaning whatsoever in the film and then chock full of camp once we meet Scotty and his little friend. I would rather have had Kirk have to face the wasteland, his rhetoric spoken out into the great big nothing of a world that does not give him the special treatment he's gotten everywhere else. That would have advanced his character and he would have had to find Spock out of need and perhaps a measure of desperation. Instead, Mr. Abrams displays no patience, or presumes the audience to have ADD. The Spock/Kirk mind-meld also might have offered us respite but did not. Because Mr. Abrams needed to deliver all this crazy-ass backstory, the mind-meld failed to carry the emotional weight that I presume Nimoy is accustomed to after his years learning what it means to be an actor. Chris Pine, though he did a better-than-I-expected job carrying out his mission as Kirk, could not sufficiently emote what should have been a more touching mind-meld scene. Also, Nimoy seemed wooden as the add-in Spock at many moments, a product I think of this story just being so contrived and of the elder Spock not being given anything meaningful to do once he's in this timeline. We're given a tantalizing promise that helping Kirk directly is not Spock's "destiny," but then Spock fulfills no great destiny in the remainder of the film except at its conclusion to advise his younger self to go follow his heart. I felt Nimoy actually provided a sub-par performance overall, which was a surprise given his acting caliber. This is not solely Nimoy's fault; he dealt fairly well with the hand he was dealt, but the writers just couldn't kill off Spock, and were perhaps too enchanted by actually attracting Nimoy to this project. They apparently couldn't figure how give him a meaningful way to complete his appearance in the film. So now we're left to likely suffer future Nimoy cameos, which will no doubt elicit the same double reaction from me and many others.

3. The greatest line is given to a surprisingly great Bruce Greenwood as Captain Pike and spoken to Kirk: something to the effect of "Are you going to be the only genius repeat offender in the Midwest?" The trouble with this characterization is, with one exception I will shortly address, this Kirk is never shown to be terribly genius. He's resilient and tough and determined--he always bounces back--but he thinks with his fists all the time. As my friend pointed out, he never argues a computer to logical impasse. While one might make the case that a younger Kirk ought to be more brash than the Captain Kirk we have come to know from the Original Series, it still seemed overkill, especially for Star Trek, in which more creative problem solving is usually advocated and displayed to be a more powerful mechanism for creating change than violence. The one exception that provides evidence of Kirk's alleged genius, is, of course, the Kobayashi Maru scenario.

4. The Kobayashi Maru scenario. I loved this and I hated it. Loved it because it was fun to live through what fans have imagined or read about based on Nicolas Meyer's brilliance in Star Trek II. But showing us this moment is also akin to somehow proving to devout Christians that Jesus had a Mohawk—the image of Jesus they had come to embrace based on the evidence available to them would necessarily be dethroned by the confrontation of a narrative that disputed their assumptions. In the case of religion, no one can claim the corner on truth; in the case of film franchises, this will go down as the way it was, which is somewhat unfortunate because our imaginations are more powerful than anything Abrams could stir together. Still, his rendering of the scene has its merits. Uhura and McCoy are spot-on in the scene and the Kirk's apple is mostly a playful nod to Wrath of Khan, though his flippancy throughout is too much. I enjoyed the reveal that Spock had programmed the simulation. In fact, despite my hesitancy to embrace Abrams' vision, I was completely caught up in this film and willing to follow it all the way to whatever end through the podium Kirk vs. Spock scene. But once the announcement comes through about the attack on Vulcan and all these cadets are rushed to the flotilla of starships, it's like Mr. Abrams is cannibalizing the to-your-fighters scene in Star Wars: A New Hope. This is not the Star Trek we've come to know. And while at the time I went with it, the next morning, I see this as a real break point in the film. I want to reemphasize that Abrams is a smart man who did his research and this was his choice. Abrams could have told another story here. He could have displayed the patience to expand time, wait for Kirk to grow up and sell us a story three years later. It didn't have to be time-traveling Romulan miner with a grudge match against Spock at the very moment the Kobayashi Maru trial is reaching its most interesting moment. But that's what it was and unfortunately we had to accept it. That's when I distanced myself from this film. Mr. Abrams apparently does not have the necessary patience or maturity to let a story unfold, rather than push it to be precisely what he wants. I wanted, instead, to have Kirk and Spock go at it verbally in the Starfleet auditorium. I was just beginning to believe in Kirk, and Pine, that he could be the Captain Kirk of rhetorical and pragmatic genius that we know from the Original Series and the movies. But Abrams apparently wasn't ready to give us anything other than a presumably more saleable swashbuckling Kirk with predominating arrogant and asshole tendencies. Abrams lowered the discourse and we all suffer for it.

5. "It's like a lightning storm." One of several implausible and avoidable crucial moments of the film assaults even a layperson's understanding of real science and science fiction cinematic plausibility. With seemingly every other science fiction special effect known to man appearing as "like a lightning storm," how is it that these few words could, first, adequately describe the phenomenon in question, and second, sufficiently resonate with unique and ominous meaning for Kirk, Pike, and Spock when stowaway Kirk convinces Pike that this is the same phenomenon responsible for the death of his father? Apparently Mr. Abrams does not believe film-going audiences are particularly intelligent and perhaps believed he had to dumb it down for us. Instead, he should have simply made up some unique technobabble descriptor. This is but one example of Abrams' apparent disdain for actual science--surprising given his writers' treatment of Lost. Historically, Star Trek has imagined possibilities beyond modern science but not those in contradiction with good science today. It's one thing for a character to describe the phenomenon as a lightning storm; it's quite another for this categorization to have survived as the official way to understand it, especially for someone like Pike, who was said to have researched it.

6. The other slaps in the face to science or plausibility:
A. That a runaway supernova was destroying the galaxy. This is simply as stupid as Abrams apparently thinks the viewing public is. Anyone who paid attention in science class knows supernovae are the explosions of stars when they collapse in on themselves. The explosions do not violate conservation of mass and energy. They don't runaway. Abrams should have invented a novel phenomenon to explain Nero's motivation rather than bastardize something that is known to real science. How many science class teachers now will have to explain to students that this is pure poppycock? Rather than encourage their imaginations through the powerful medium of film, Abrams has consciously chosen to lower the discourse.
B. That Chekhov could run all the way to the transporter room in the time it took Kirk and Sulu to fall to Vulcan. Come on. While movies do stuff like this all the time, this was a bit much.
C. How could an exploding Vulcan be visible from the surface of "Delta Vega"? It seemed to be larger than Earth's moon in Spock's mind-meld flashback. This was ill-conceived at best and completely unnecessary.

7. A potentially meaningful scene near the film's end was completely trashed due to Mr. Abrams' impatience and disturbing lack of moral responsibility. It was good writing for Kirk to hail Nero and offer to beam him and his crew aboard. This is what the Federation values and what a good Starfleet captain would do. While it's amusing and telling for Spock to disagree, it is entirely inappropriate and immoral for the Enterprise to simply open fire on Nero's ship when Nero declines Kirk's offer of assistance. This is a bastardization of Star Trek values and I cringe when I think of what young people whose first experience of Star Trek is this movie will take away from scenes like this--the others including gratuitous violence and killing. The message: We can blatantly disregard rules of moral decency whenever it suits us. And we will suffer no repercussions; instead, we will be rewarded with promotion. In the action to fire on Nero's ship, Kirk and company are just as guilty of genocide as is Nero. I want to clarify this point by comparing a scene in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, when Kirk and the Lord Kruge are battling on the cliff of the Genesis Planet. In that case, Kirk offers Kruge his hand to keep from falling to his death; only when Kruge takes his feet and tries to pull Kirk down does Kirk let go his higher self and boot Kruge in the face and ultimately to his death. Kruge not only has refused assistance but has taken advantage of the offer to pull down Kirk too. It becomes a question of survival. In the Kirk/Nero offer, Nero wields no such power. He is helpless and unable to take the Enterprise with him. There are a few things an actual Starfleet crew would have done in that moment. Either taken Nero's refusal at its word and got the hell away from the black hole or attempted to rescue Nero's crew anyway. Under no conceivable circumstances was it appropriate for them to unload on Nero's ship. It didn't make sense cinematically and it damages the ethos Roddenberry's Star Trek has represented. This method of conflict resolution--sneak around and sabotage and/or attack to impose one's will--is antithetical to what Star Trek has historically advocated. Witness Star Trek: The Motion Picture, where there is no villain and conflict is resolved by coming to understand one's presumed adversary, helping it to attain its goals. Witness Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, where Khan is clearly an adversary, but Spock's self-sacrifice is the solution to their Kobayashi Maru scenario--not sticking it to Khan. Star Trek III approaches the vigilantism displayed by Abrams, but as discussed above, ultimately avoids it (furthermore, in the following film, Kirk is faced with consequences for his actions—reduction in rank from admiral to captain. He is put in his place, even while he is implicitly commended). Witness Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, where again there is no real villain and conflict is resolved by facilitating communication (whales to probe). Witness even Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, where a psychological maturation enables the characters' survival and Sybok is not deemed a villain so much as he is understood as having been deceived. Witness Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, where the villain is not so much "the" villain as one element of an ultraconservative conspiracy that has brought together even political enemies by playing to their common fears and prejudices; it is the choice of those even with prejudice to surpass their own failings that enables the conflict to be resolved. Nothing so engaging or redeeming is to be found in JJ Abrams' Star Trek. It is pure shoot-em-up. I frown on this decision, which Abrams, who has now inherited the Star Trek mantle, will have to sleep with for the remainder of his natural life.

8. Nero is flat and plastic. We shouldn't have to read a comic book prequel to understand a villain's motivation or to empathize in some way with him. Nero is poorly written in the film and a poor decision. Also, in what even the most simple writers group can criticize about someone's creative work, showing is superior to telling. We shouldn't have Nero telling people he wants them to feel his pain. This is poor characterization and debased cinema. While Khan is arguably Kirk's shadow, an exiled and oppressed Caliban out to enact vengeance, Nero's is ridiculous, an echo of the idiocy of Berman's Nemesis villain. We don't understand his pain so how can we access his character? Why do we care what he does? And how can we believe it? Throwing the time-travel hunting-after-Spock scenario does not make us believe his character. He was a disappointment.

9. Moments of puerile gratuity or Trek mythos insult.
A. "Centurian slugs"! An insult and debasement of Khan's Ceti eels. Why not just waterboard Pike and show it? Also, once Pike is rescued, why doesn't he reassume command of the Enterprise? If he can shoot the Romulan as Kirk rescues him, and stumble away with Kirk, certainly he is not so incapacitated?
B. "Delta Vega"! Instead of lifting an existing planet from the Trek lexicon, Mr. Abrams should have made up a completely different planet. The real Delta Vega has a lot of story and backstory to it; why mess with something like that? Oh, I remember, so we can make some CGI monsters eat each other and go skittering down an ice cliff--that must be why. And, the name sounds good.
C. Scotty beaming into a water tank--I found that funny, but why did we need him being sucked through the tube? This was just silly and should have been cut or reduced to Kirk simply letting him out of the tank.
D. Kirk going from cadet to captain in less than two cinematic hours. Come on.
E. The drill falling next to the Golden Gate Bridge. Come on.
F. The engineer parachuting with the explosives. Owen. Knew he was a goner as soon as he wasn't Scotty.
G. Earth being Nero's target. After Abrams destroyed Vulcan, we knew Earth would be saved. No real tension.
H. How many ledges did Kirk pull himself up from? Three? Four? Five? Forty-seven? Come on now. We got it--his abdominal muscles are strong.
I. Jettisoning the warp core(s?) and that the resultant explosion would push the Enterprise beyond the singularity's event horizon. This made no sense, as such an explosion within the event horizon would have been drawn into the singularity. I guess Mr. Abrams didn't hire very good science consultants or else didn't listen to them--but that's right, we the viewing public are too stupid to care. Let's just give them bigger and bigger explosions and they'll be happy.

10. It wasn't all bad. Mostly the movie was enjoyable, though incredibly flawed. Some nice touches:
A. A shuttle named Gillian.
B. The number 47 (Klingon warships).
C. Scotty: "Can I have a towel?"
D. The Vulcan education pits. Interestingly envisioned and executed.
E. Orion woman cadet with Kirk as Uhura's roommate.
F. Anything McCoy--that actor did an excellent job channeling DeForest Kelley.
G. Spock to the Vulcan Science Academy: "Live long and prosper."
H. The bowels of various starships being less antiseptic, and, as my friend pointed out, "industrial."
I. Excellent performance by actor portraying George Kirk.
J. Riverside, Iowa shipyards.

11. Biggest surprise: Uhura and Spock. (Though the advertising promotion implying Kirk and Uhura as an item provide evidence of Mr. Abrams' extraordinary ego, transcending that of either Kirk or even William Shatner--Abrams loves to pull stuff on his viewers. Perhaps he gets a power trip out of this kind of thing.)

12. Best actor: Zachary Quinto as Spock.

13. Best scene: Uhura and Spock in the turbolift.

14. Most emotional scene: premature death of Amanda.

15. Didn't work for me--pulled me out of the "fictional dream"--but not horrible:
A. Sarek and Spock.
B. The Enterprise bridge.
C. Kirk's eye color (why not give Pine hazel contacts? This is the 21st century.)
D. Should have nailed down Kirk's mother's name as Wynona.
E. Why is Kirk's pregnant mother on board a starship out in the middle of nowhere?
F. Did we even need the convertible scene? And what's with the airbrushed atmosphere in the distance--did the matte painting crew forget to add in the shipyards? And are there huge quarries/canyons in Iowa?

That's all I've got for now. Perhaps more later. I see this as a pretty good movie, but it's pseudoTrek. While it was better than I expected/feared, it disappointed by not appealing to our better human nature and instead lowering the discourse. Star Trek has never ultimately been action/adventure hero's journey at its core, but that's what Abrams thinks will sell, so that's what we're left with.