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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[December 14, 1967] What a Drag it is Getting Old (Star Trek: "The Deadly Years")

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by Janice L. Newman

Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me?

Different cultures often have profoundly different ways of dealing with the basics of life: whether or not it is traditional to bury or cremate a corpse, for example, or the ‘proper’ way to discipline a child. One aspect of life that we all have to face (if we live long enough), is aging. In the USA, aging is treated almost as an illness, as though those who begin to show gray in their hair (or, heaven forbid, to lose it) are suffering from a progressive malady that will eventually destroy their bodies and minds. (This is particularly true for women, of course. As the lyrics in “I Do, I Do” say, “Men of forty go to town. Women go to pot”.) Contrast this with Asian cultures, many of which traditionally treat their elderly with a deep respect that borders on reverence.

This week’s Star Trek episode, The Deadly Years, wasn’t exactly a true exploration of aging and its effects. It mostly seemed an excuse to have an ‘elderly’ Kirk, Spock, and McCoy make sarcastic and biting remarks at each other, and in this it succeeded. It did not, however, do much to challenge the traditional view of aging in Western countries, and the episode as a whole did not hang together as well as one might have hoped.

When a group of Star Trek officers consisting of Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Chekov, and Lt. Galway beams down to check the progress of a scientific expedition, they are shocked to find that most of the members of the colony have died of old age—despite the fact that none of them were supposed to be over the age of thirty.


"I said, we owe our youthfulness to clean living and lots of B12!"

After returning to the ship, the members of the team soon begin to show signs of rapid aging themselves. This part of the episode is particularly well-handled: the age makeup is subtle, and the characters have minor aches and pains, slight forgetfulness and moments of confusion. It’s chilling, because anyone who has either dealt with an elderly person or been one recognizes at least some of the signs. The deterioration continues, becoming more obvious (as does the age makeup): loss of hearing and vision, increasing trouble remembering things, and on McCoy’s part, an exaggeration of his Southern accent! It’s explained that the mental decline caused by the condition is actually faster than the physical decline, leading to early senility. Only Chekov has escaped the effects, and no one can explain why.


"Keep pumping those young legs back there, Mr. Chekov!"

There is a love interest of sorts for Captain Kirk, but she adds nothing to the story and serves no purpose except to hover in the background and make sorrowful faces. More interesting is Commodore Stocker, who follows his conscience and convenes a mental competency hearing for Captain Kirk. Under almost any other circumstances, doing so would have been the right choice. Unfortunately, once Stocker gains control of the ship he takes it directly into the neutral zone in an attempt to get to the nearest Starbase as quickly as possible. Predictably, the Enterprise is attacked by the Romulans. While I appreciated Stocker as a character who was following his conscience, it was clear that he was there primarily to put the Enterprise in danger and increase the drama, as if the fear of losing most of the main cast and fan favorites to old age wasn’t enough.


Who could have foreseen this turn of events?

Between the trial and the Romulans, there isn’t much time to wrap things up. McCoy discovers the solution in the nick of time, and they inject it into the captain, who screams and writhes. For some reason, the adrenaline they use not only counteracts the radiation that caused the artificial aging, it actually reverses it, allowing Kirk to sweep onto the bridge, make a nice callback to The Corbomite Maneuver, and save the day. The bridge crew is young again, or at least young enough that they don’t have to worry for a while.

All in all the episode was in the ‘fun’ category: a story that didn’t make much sense when you look at it closely, but enjoyable enough to watch for the interactions between “old” Spock, Kirk, and extra-grumpy McCoy. It took no risks and did nothing to challenge deeply-ingrained beliefs of its Western audience about aging and the desirability thereof. I hope that the remaining episodes of the second season will be a little more willing to push the boundaries, or at least have a more convincing scientific foundation.

Three stars.

Grow Old Along with Me


by Gideon Marcus

Every so often, a Trek writer eschews plot, common sense, and scientific accuracy to put forth a pet proposal.  "Let's have a spooky Halloween episode!" ("Catspaw").  "Let's have the Enterprise traipse around in the modern day!" ("Tomorrow is Yesterday").  "Let's make everyone on the Enterprise drunk! ("The Naked Time").  Let's make an evil Enterprise ("Mirror, Mirror").

Mind you, the results aren't always bad.  Indeed, these last two are among my favorite episodes.  But their fundamental premises are silly.  The premise of "The Deadly Years" is similarly simple…and silly: "What if all the senior officers got really old?"

Of course, aging doesn't work as we saw in the show, and it certainly doesn't tint hair (reversibly or otherwise).  What the crew really contracted was a deadly form of radiation poisoning, and I'm surprised none of them acted accordingly.  They should have all remained in sick bay, under quarantine (how do they know it's not contagious?) Much was made of the lack of senior officers who could sit in the center seat, but haven't we twice seen Sulu do that (in battle, no less)?  Wasn't Mr. DeSalle at the conn just a few episodes ago?


Wrong man for the job.

Left without comment was the fact that the Romulans now appear to have warp drive and can keep up with the Enterprise at all but the highest speeds.  I wonder if this presages a new war…especially with the recent and casual Neutral Zone violation.

Don't get me wrong.  As an opportunity to watch the show's stars do their best Walter Brennan impressions, it was a delight.  It was a glimpse of what the retired crew will be like when they all settle down at the Starfleet retirement home: McCoy and Kirk will irritably play cards, each trying to sneak a snort of Saurian Brandy, while Nurse Chapel's kid (following in the family tradition) tries to confiscate the flask.  Scotty will be asleep on the couch, a copy of Popular Mechanics over one knee and the latest Playboy on the other.  Spock, of course, will still be hale at that point.  Maybe he will teach a class for flag officers on why supply clerks can't run starships.


"If you have any questions, please see the historical entry marked Stardate 3478.2"

Also, count me among the very few who enjoyed the appearance of Janet Wallace (the mom in my favorite Twilight Zone episode, "Little Girl Lost"!) I enjoy learning more about Kirk's history, and the couple seemed to have had a sweet, if somewhat doomed, relationship.  I wish she'd had more to do in the episode (why was she even on the ship?  Is she stationed on Starbase 10?), but at least she and Kirk didn't have time to smooch on the bridge a la Areel Shaw in "Court Martial."


"I must say, Jim… middle-age looks very sexy on you."

Finally, I thought Charles Drake did a great job as Stocker.  He usually plays a heavy when I see him on other shows, so it was nice to see him as a good guy for a change.  Since Joe is going to talk a lot about the commodore, I will leave things off here.

Three stars.

19th Nervous Breakdown

by Joe Reid

This week’s episode of Star Trek demonstrated a clever duality.  An inverse duality of two men.  The first man started perfectly in his depth, then nearly drowned as he lost the ability to stay afloat.  The second man started out like a swimmer looking for safe purchase who ended up diving way over his head.  The first man was Kirk.  As the aging sickness got worse, he failed to realize that he was sinking.  His journey of loss and eventual re-empowerment was great in this story.

The second man was Commodore Stocker.

He was among those in the briefing room to discuss the strange happenings on Gamma Hydra IV.  The first thing that we learned about Stocker was that he was an administrator, and this planet was in his administrative area.  The next thing that we learned was that he had a new job: As a flag officer and a man of authority he was very anxious to get to his new post at Starbase 10.

As the senior crew members started to show signs of deterioration due to rapid aging, Stocker was concerned and wanted to help.  His only solution was for the ship to get to Starbase 10, so that he could use its resources to save everyone.  He felt so helpless on a starship and all he could think of was to get to a place where he could feel empowered.  He felt it so strongly that he asked Kirk three times to get him to Starbase 10.

Soon Stocker became a character that would just hang around in the background watching Kirk as he continued to age and started to make mistake after mistake.  Always nearby standing there with a concerned and helpless look on his face.


"Stop making that face, Commodore.  I'm fine."

In a position of powerlessness, desperately desiring to get to a place where he could feel useful, Stocker finally decided to act.  Act as an administrator, an ominpresent one at that.  He appeared out of nowhere and cornered Spock as he was walking.  Then Stocker used the power of Starfleet regulations to strongarm Spock into convening an Extraordinary Competency Hearing in order to remove the ailing Kirk from command.  This action showed Stocker coming into his own depth and exercising his power.

After the hearing, where Kirk met with failure, Stocker was able to step even further into his depths and power by taking command of the Enterprise himself.  Sadly, taking command of a starship soon proved a step too far, plunging him way over his depth.  This was made obvious by his very first command: “Set a course for Starbase 10,” even though the course took the ship into the Romulan neutral zone.

Stocker was so desperate to get to safety that he ignored the safety of the crew.  That desire led straight to danger, evident when the Romulans immediately attacked as they entered the neutral zone.  He then fell further out of his depth when the only skill he possessed, negotiation, failed him as the Romulans would not even talk to him.  Hitting an all time low as he contemplated surrendering the Enterprise to the Romulans–people notorious for taking no prisoners.


"I did say this was a bad idea."

Salvation came for Stocker as a revived Kirk stepped on the bridge.  As Kirk pranced in, Stocker leapt out of the command chair, relieved that Kirk had arrived.  After Kirk cleverly saved the crew from the Romulans, along with the aging sickness being cured, Stocker was finally able to relax as a man who was saved from drowning in waters too deep for him to survive.  Not a bad episode.  Not a bad character.

Three stars

I have no idea what to make of tomorrow night's episode, but it certainly looks action packed.

Here's the invitation. Come join us!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[December 8, 1967] You're a Big Girl Now (Star Trek: "Friday's Child")

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"Episodus Interruptus"


by Amber Dubin

Every episode of Star Trek is 51 minutes long, with nine minutes left over for ads and bumpers.  And while this week's episode, "Friday's Child", doesn't clock in any shorter than usual, you may finish the hour feeling like you've missed something.  It's a show very much in a hurry, and it cuts a lot of corners to get where it's going.

We open on a bridge crew meeting in which they are discussing the best way to approach mining treaty negotiations with the 7 foot tall, war-like, tribal people of Capella IV. This routine excursion immediately goes off script when Kirk, Spock, McCoy and Officer Grant greet the Capellan representatives. A Klingon accompanies the Capellas. Before anyone can stop him, Officer Grant draws his weapon on the Klingon, forcing a Capellan to neutralize the threat. Grant collapses into Kirk's arms, a weapon buried in his chest. Thus, the first death of the episode occurs before the opening credits can even run.


Trigger-happy Grant, we hardly knew ye.

When the landing party finally gains an audience with the king (Ti-er), it becomes clear that there is unrest in the royal tent over who should be given mining rights between the Federation and the Klingons. The current Ti-er, Aka-ar, seems to side with the Federation, due to their honesty and respect for the Capellan planetary autonomy. On the other hand, Ma-ab, who claims to "speak for many" favors Kras the Klingon, whom he thinks has values that more easily align with his macho, Darwinian survivalist, Capellan traditions. Aka-ar offers to fight it out, but Ma-ab retreats, claiming it should be the choice of the Ti-er.

Meanwhile, in space, a ship claiming to be a Federation freighter lures the Enterprise, Scottie in command, away from the planet. That Scottie does so without alerting the landing party, nor determining why they do not answer his hails, I find suspect…to say the least!


"Let's go, lads. After we answer the phony distress call, maybe we can do some last minute Christmas shopping."

In one of the wildest cuts of the episode, we find ourselves back on the planet, the entire village erupted into civil war. In short order, Ma-ab emerges victorious and claims the throne. The issue at hand soon becomes removing the threat posed by the previous Ti-er's pregnant wife, Eleen. All agree that she must be executed to prevent the birth of her child, except Captain Kirk, who snatches her away from the blade about to plunge into her body. The pregnant widow then declares her right to see Kirk executed, as "no man may lay hands on the wife of the Ti-er." The condemned are taken to a tent, from which they promptly escape, dragging the reluctant widow with them.

The landing party retreats into the mountains, using clever traps and inhospitable terrain to keep the Cappellan pursuers at bay. McCoy exercises his prerogative as a doctor, tending to Eleen's arm and checking on the progress of her pregnancy. The Ti-er's widow takes poorly to this, and a slapping match ensues. Rather than becoming upset, Eleen is impressed with McCoy's cheek, tenderly taking his offending hand in hers. Spock witnesses this part of the exchange. McCoy snatches his hand back, but not before receiving a raised eyebrow from the Vulcan.


To be fair, this is about the only acting Nimoy gets to do this episode.

With this permission to touch her thus established, McCoy is able to help deliver her son, but in trying to get her to want the child she hates, McKCoy inadvertently claims ownership of the child. Logically, she then knocks McCoy unconscious and leaves him with 'their' infant to rejoin the Cappellan pursuer. It turns out this is actually to save their lives; she tells her countrymen that she killed them.

But the Klingon is dubious. He demands to see the bodies of the Earthmen himself. When Ma-ab expresses affront at Kras' doubting the word of a Ti-er's wife, Kras goes berserk, slaughtering his former allies. Ma-ab sees he was wrong to trust this Klingon and relinquishes his right to the throne, staying the widow's execution in exchange. He then offers his life to the Klingon to distract him while Ma-ab's second in command gets in position to finally strike the Klingon down.


"Klingon!  I challenge you to a jumping jacks contest!"

Extremely late to the party, Scottie and a huge troop of security officers emerge from the shadows, revealing that after he determined the distress signal to be a Klingon deception, he bypassed a conflict with a Klingon vessel offscreen and beamed down an entire party–without contacting Kirk first or getting any idea what kind of situation he'd be beaming his troop down into. Bolstered by this show of force, McCoy reveals the newborn Ti-er. He instructs the infant's new mother how to care for her child and the hastily settled coup somehow doesn't cause any hindrance to the mining treaty that is quickly signed off screen. Cue a final laugh line (the child is named Leonard James Aka-ar) and finis.

My biggest problem with this episode is how poorly the pacing of the two storylines blends together. With the intricate culture of the planet and the cat-and-mouse game in space, there's simply too much for just one episode. It's as though "Friday's Child" was planned as two episodes, but allotted just one. The editing required to fit results in two thirds of a story–or perhaps a whole story, but with vital scenes missing almost at random. Hence, we get endless scenes of Scotty and the bridge crew figuring out the Klingon deception, but no depiction of its resolution. What's left remains solely to break up action on the planet's surface.

The storyline on land isn't without inconsistencies either, the first of which lies in the quick acceptance of Grant's death. When Kirk drops his body to the ground, Doctor McCoy makes no move to dislodge the weapon or check his life signs or make any attempt to revive him. Kirk then laments that Grant was "young and inexperienced" in order to distance himself from the fallen officer's behavior. But why bring a young, inexperienced, trigger-happy security officer to a delicate diplomatic situation? It's also never made explicit why the widow hates her child, and her subsequent about face is similarly mysterious. And while I'm glad to see a woman in charge (Eleen is made regent off screen), I find it hard to believe that such an unstable political situation could have been resolved so quickly. But they needed a quick, happy ending.

There's a lot here to like: a second brush with the Klingons, a challenging diplomatic situation, some excellent interactions both on the planet and the Enterprise. Had the episode been fully developed, it could have reached five stars, but whatever was left on the cutting room floor took my full endorsement with it.

Four stars.

The Cultural Aspect


by J.M. North

This episode impressed me in a number of ways, primarily with the writers’ ability to create a deep and unique, primitive culture at the core of a dispute between two galactic superpowers, and secondarily with the Federation and the Kling-on’s dedication to their rivalry with one another. Even after the Enterprise is briefed about the peace accord in place on this planet and the sensitive nature of this delegation, the action begins after a Federation red-shirted mook instinctively goes to shoot at a Kling-on on sight.

The 10 Tribes society that governs the planet Capella, like the Corridians in the episode prior "Journey to Babel", are an adolescent race not yet introduced to advanced technology, much less even to bows and arrows. They are mostly decentralized, but still elect a representative ‘Teer-akar’ that acts as king but who can be lawfully challenged and usurped at any time. Theirs is a culture that values strength and victory alone; we can see evident parallels to the Freemen from Dune in aspects like their native sovereignty, tribal structure, and in their cultural behavior; honor and ordeal by combat.


Tuesday on Capella.

With the speed that civil war breaks out after the sitting Teer-akar is challenged to single combat, one could assume that these tribal wars are not uncommon on Capella. It is difficult to ignore the covetous and self-advantageous nature of the Kling-on and the Federation who, embroiled in their own cause to gain advantage over one another, precipitate this civil war among Capella’s natives and end up killing a large number of them, and in no shy way at the end does the Federation celebrate getting to conveniently install a puppet-Teer-akar who will deal in favor of them for its lifetime after defeating the pro-kling-on Teer Maab in the final fight.

One sequence I most enjoyed was how Julie Newmar’s character Eleen struggled with her own perceptions of reality, culture and duty. She burns her arm early in the episode and spends a long time conflicted over allowing McCoy to treat it. She is immediately and convincingly impressed by modern medicine but evidently still nervous about it. Later when McCoy suggests that he can save her life, despite her constant protesting, she concedes briefly that “It is always preferable to live..”; after she delivers the baby, her dedication to her duty and to tribal society leads her to attack McCoy and abandon the Earthmen she fled with. It appeared to me that her decision to spare them by telling Maab she had already killed them was only convenient for her and not really her original intention when she abandoned her child with McCoy.

Overall, 4 stars–minus one only because of the number of short-cuts in the plot.

A chance to shine


by Gideon Marcus

In a newspaper clipping I was mailed over the summer, DeForest Kelley talked about how pleased he was to have been given an "also starring" credit in the second season credits.  He noted mildly that it was sometimes difficult to stand out when playing opposite such scene stealers as Nimoy and Shatner.  We've seen Dr. McCoy take center stage before: "The Man Trap" was definitely his first season standout.  But it was also the first episode of last season, and since then, while he has certainly had plenty of prominence, he's never been the star of the show.

Well, "Friday's Child" was a 'Bones' episode, through and through.  From his first briefing to the officers of the Enterprise, to his delivery of Eleen's daughter, to his literal upstaging of Kirk when the captain threatens to make a hash (yet again) of diplomacy, McCoy is at the hub of the story.  Kelley's chemistry with Newmar is excellent, particularly the slapping scene and the "the child is mine" scene.  One can really see that the actor is an old pro, effortlessly selling each moment without mugging or scenery chewing.


"Definitely a ten-pin ball in there…"

To his credit, Shatner isn't bad either.  He doesn't inject so much of himself into Kirk this time, though he does keep his hands raised after the security guard dies from a case of trigger-happy-itis for about ten minutes.  He also does that characteristic "sauntering into a monologue" thing at least once.  But at least he's consistent.  He broods over the loss of a crewman; he's a soldier, not a diplomat; and when he chews McCoy out, he later apologizes.

Left on the cutting room floor are all of Nimoy's great moments.  I don't think he even speaks until fifteen minutes in, and then he doesn't get very much (though his silent exchange with McCoy on the hilltop speaks volumes).  We do get a number of scenes involving the B-list on the Enterprise, reminiscent of "Metamorphosis", but with a bit more purpose.  It makes me wonder if we shouldn't just have two shows–one starring Scotty and co., and the other involving the Big Three going on intragalactic adventures.

Anyway, while the show suffers for its skeletal form, it does hang together.  Three and a half stars.

A giant among women


by Lorelei Marcus

If there's anything I love, it's babies. I could watch babies do their funny little baby things all day long, and I certainly want a few of my own someday. I was pleasantly surprised that this week's episode featured a newborn, and while most of the time it was played by a bundle of cloth, every so often we got an adorable shot of its sleeping, slightly frog-like face. I was also pleasantly surprised to see Julie Newmar grace the Star Trek stage as a featured guest this episode. Considering Newmar's previous roles, I think it was a good fit.

I'm a bit of a Julie Newmar fan, which is unusual because I don't much care for her acting. In whatever role she plays, she always has a very flat affect that makes her portrayal of the characters feel a little "off". She also has a subtle accent and often stilted delivery which made me wonder if she might have struggled with a hearing impairment growing up. All of this was actually to her benefit as the humanoid robot in My Living Doll, but it didn't serve her as well in the Monkees, or even Batman. What she is good at, though, is physical comedy. Her background as a trained dancer (and perhaps also her experience as a concert pianist) has given Julie Newmar expert bodily control, which she excels at using to emphasize the humor of a moment.


"Don't get fresh with me, Mac-Koy!"

This is where she truly shone in today's Star Trek episode. Her massive height alone made her the perfect choice for a seven-foot tall alien, and she does a very convincing job of appearing encumbered by the weight of a pregnant stomach. The way she avoided being touched by people was also very funny, between her petulant delivery of lines and her slapping at people's hands or even McCoy's face! In a way, her unusual speech patterns also aided in her appearance as an alien, or at least a humanoid used to a different language. Her intentional butchering of McCoy's name always got a laugh, and her misunderstanding of who her baby belonged to also seemed very plausible.

Overall, I think Newmar did a wonderful job in this episode. Despite her shortcomings as an actress, there's something very endearing about the giant beauty who keeps much of her brilliance just below the surface. Whether it be another guest star role or perhaps her own show, I will definitely be looking out for her name in the TV guides again.

In addition to Newmar, everyone else did a great job of acting in this episode. The premise was fascinating, and the new alien culture very interesting; it would have been a five-star episode if (as Amber notes) the editor hadn't left half of it on the cutting room floor.

Three stars.

The next episode of Trek is tonight!  Plus, a little before-the show treat.

Come join us at 4:30 PM Pacific (7:30 Eastern) or at 6:30 PM Pacific (9:30 Eastern)!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 24, 1967] Guess who's coming to dinner? (Star Trek: "Journey to Babel")

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by Gideon Marcus

At the World Science Fiction Convention in New York this year, Spock was the man of the hour.  There were no fewer than seven Vulcan costumers at the Ball, and the premiere of the episode "Amok Time" was a much-attended event.  Rumors abounded that there were more Vulcanian surprises in store this season.  It was whispered that one of the upcoming episodes would feature Spock's parents!  Thus, we have been greatly anticipating a second return to Vulcan for the last ten weeks.

Well, Spock's Mom and Pop have shown up, but not quite the way we expected.

D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana has been attached to Star Trek for some time, and her pen has been felt on a number of scripts.  "Journey to Babel", however, is the first one solely credited to her…and it does her credit!

In brief: The Enterprise is transporting one hundred delegates from dozens of Federation worlds to the planetoid Babel, where they will discuss and vote on the admission of Corridan.  Corridan is a low-population, defenseless world that possesses tremendous reserves of dilithium crystals, making it an appealing target for raiders and wildcat mining operations.  Membership in the Federation would offer a stepped up level of protection.


The Enterprise's rec room has become something of a babel, itself

The Vulcan delegation is led by Sarek, a 102-year old pulled out of retirement for this mission.  Accompanying him are two anonymous aides and a handsome middle aged Earth woman, who is introduced as Sarek's wife, Amanda.  Kirk had three guesses as to who the mixed couple might be, and he blew them all.  Of course, they're actually Spock's parents (though the dashing Vulcan ambassador does not look anything like Balok, Spock's comment in "The Corbomite Maneuver" notwithstanding.)


Maybe the resemblance is in personalities…

Sarek and Spock are estranged, for Spock chose a career in Starfleet over one in the Vulcan Science Academy.  And, Vulcans being the super-logical creatures they are, they have mastered the art of snubbery and pouting.

However, events quickly overcome petty family squabbles.  One of the delegates, the abrasive Tellarite named Gav, is murdered, and Sarek is the prime suspect.  This slaying may have something to do with the mysterious super ship that is tailing the Enterprise, capable of an astonishing Warp 10.  Finally, Sarek himself succumbs to a heart attack, and only surgery facilitated by a transfusion from his son's blood can save him.  But Spock cannot leave his post, for Kirk has been stabbed by one of the Andorian delegation, and he can't take the center seat.  Cue dramatic music.


"Dear diary.  I finally get to run the ship.  I hope Jim takes a long time to recover so I don't have to save my mean ol' dad!"

There is a lot to like about this episode.  Mark Lenard, whom we last saw as a Romulan commander in "Balance of Terror" (as well as two Mission: Impossible roles as a "Latin"), gives a fine turn as a reserved but not emotionless Vulcan.  We get a little more breadth to Nimoy's performance with his more relaxed interactions with his mother.  DeForest Kelley is a real stand-out this episode, even getting the last line of the show.


"I finally get the last word.  Take that, Bill and Leonard, you primadonnas!"

The tense battle scenes on the bridge are excellent, and it was a delight seeing all the alien races.  I was particularly impressed with the Andorian ambassador; the blue-skinned aliens appear to be a tonic to the Vulcans, prioritizing violence, passion, and pecunious aims.  Chekov, Uhura, Chapel all get relatively meaty roles (though Sulu and Scotty are completely absent).  And Shatner manages to turn in a more first-seasoned performance…minus the flying posterior attack he uses to dispatch his Andorian assailant.


The captain suffers a grievous wound after using his "flying posterior attack" on his assailant

On the other hand, the episode has rough bits.  The editing is particularly choppy, with the aforementioned Andorian/Kirk attack coming out of nowhere and some dialogue scenes being cut abruptly.  The musical score is almost entirely from the library.  This could be fine, except the musical pieces are all highly evocative of their origin.  I kept expecting the attacking vessel to be a giant cornucopia, and when Sarek arrived, I expected they were about to enter a parallel dimension.

I've come to get a feel for my Star Trek directors.  This season, Joseph Pevney and Marc Daniels have essentially alternated the past dozen episodes.  I much prefer the avante garde latter to the staid former.  Whenever Pevney is at the helm, I know I'm going to see a more stagey, less dynamic episode.  It may be him to blame for Miss Jane Wyatt's particularly flat performance as Spock's mother.


"I'm just here for the free drinks and blue fruit…"

Nevertheless, I have a largely favorable impression.  Two concurrent plots were resolved nicely, many characters got to shine, and the scope of the Trek universe was expanded tremendously.

Four stars.


by Joe Reid

How Do You Say Love in Vulcan?

We have come to regard Vulcans as stoic and emotionless.  Star Trek so far has provided two examples of what feelings of love, and emotions in general, exist in the complex Vulcan heart.  The first was from season one’s “This Side of Paradise”, where we saw Spock expressing love and, dare I say, happiness as his emotional walls were toppled by a mind-altering spore.  The second example being this season’s “Amok Time”, when Spock was driven mad by his Pon Farr.  Showing intense emotional outburst, deceit, anger, and violence from Spock in his efforts to get to Vulcan to marry and mate driven by the intense hormonal assault.  This week’s episode gave us our first untainted look at Vulcan emotions.

If we have learned anything from Star Trek it’s that Vulcan are quick to point out that emotional responses are a human failing.  That Vulcans do not experience such things, because they are guided by logic.  “Journey to Babel” painted a different picture, showing that Vulcans can hold long grudges, feel pride, display tenderness, love deeply, express frustration, and even engage in humor.  They do indeed experience emotions, though usually filter responses to their feelings through a rubric of logic.

During introductions, Sarek completely ignored Spock.  Kirk asked Spock to give them a tour, and Sarek’s response towards Spock bordered on contempt, asking Kirk for a different guide.  It was later revealed by Amanda that Sarek disapproved of Spock’s choice to join Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy.  Sarek not only scornfully held a long grudge when Spock didn’t meet his expectations, but rudely expressed that disappointment at the introductions.  His behavior was clearly an emotional response.


"Son?  I have no son."

Spock’s mother was a standout character this episode.  She was unapologetically human, while showing full acceptance of her Vulcan husband and his role as a planet’s ambassador.  Amanda was full of mirth, caring, prudence, tenderness, and above all loyalty, demonstrating an almost perfect example of the best of human qualities.  Through his interactions with Amanda, we saw Sarek’s love.  Humans show togetherness by holding hands.  The Vulcan version is a gentle touch using only the index and middle fingers.  A connection held up at the level of their hearts, not buried at the level of their loins, as is the case with humans.  In almost every scene we were graced with this passionate and public, yet tender, expression of love and commitment from Sarek and Amanda.

Although guided by logic, Vulcans are easily as emotionally complex as humans.  Though Sarek disagreed with Spock’s Starfleet decision, he said to his wife that Spock deserved to be shown the respect of a Starfleet officer and that she shouldn’t embarrass him, showing both Sarek’s pride in Spock and acknowledgement that Spock can feel embarrassment.  Regardless of Sarek's brusqueness, Spock devotedly argued with Amanda and McCoy for the operation to save Sarek’s life.  Even though Spock and Sarek shared few words during the episode, the final scene had them joking about why Sarek would marry such an emotional woman.  An exchange followed by two fingers touching between Spock’s loving parents.

What stood out in this cloak and dagger episode filled with alien faces were the loving emotions of a Vulcan-Human family.  A tender flower rooted amid a warzone, and I found it most acceptable.

Five stars

And introducing Mr. J. North, our new resident menace…

The Religious Subtext


by J.M. North

My scope of the Star Trek universe has been so far limited, having started watching in the middle of season 2. This episode, regardless, seems like it would be exceptionally revealing even for those who are caught up in the series. What I have verified is that this is the first appearance of the Corridians, Andorians and the Orions, as well as of Spock’s mother and father and a number of other alien races. There is dialogue throughout indicative of The Federation and Star Fleet’s domain throughout the galaxy, and revealing of its ultimate alignment with the Vulcan ideals of scientific discovery, peace and fair interplanetary-cooperation. In the episode prior, Captain Kirk reveals in a discussion with Zefram Cochrane that mankind has settled up to 1,000 extraterrestrial bodies besides Earth, my own first indication to the extent of humanity's advancement as a species. This episode provides my first indication of the influence of the Federation and its true purpose as a diplomatic conference, as well as its relative advancement compared to other species–notably the Orions with whom Kirk is impressed for using the same phasers as Star Fleet.


The Orion strikes!

In the episode prior there is a possible, easily dismissed reference to the bible when Zefram Cochrane considers planting a fig tree after his conflict with the Companion is resolved, symbolic perhaps of forgiveness, love or peace, or something abstract as the fig is mentioned in all sorts of contexts in the bible, which I would indeed dismiss if not for the much more evident reference to Christian canon in this episode. Journey to Babel, the title of which is unmistakably an allusion to the Tower of Babel story from Genesis, and the plot no doubt a representation of God’s subsequent punishment for man: the confounding of language and onset of war before the great flood. I find the thematic parallels to be quite compelling.

It is poetic how the sci-fi context is used to discuss biblical themes; well-written inter-stellar geopolitics provide the basis for a potential war between the adolescent Corridian race, the advanced planet-mining race of Tellarites and the provocative, warlike Orions, conveying the ultimate theme of division and conflict among races from the namesake parable. Rather than the confounding of language (thanks to universal translation), conflict arises by the confounding of ideas for how to treat the Corridians. The Tellarites are forward about their lack of support for Coridan’s admission to the Federation, and their desire to poach the planet clean, while the Orions seek to promote this conflict between them into an all out war that they could profit off of by selling to both sides.

Further compelling to me regarding this biblical theme is the discussion of the genesis of a new primitive race; the Corridians, and their comparison to other civilizations, and further their advancement by joining the Federation. Consider biblical canon; genesis of the human race in Eden, enslavement of the Israelites by the Egyptians (poaching of Corridan by the Tellarites?), following the advancement of society into the time of Rome. What I’d like to watch for now is if this religious subtext prevails throughout the show, or if it is just these two episodes that happen to have been inspired by biblical themes.

Five stars for good writing, a rich galaxy, and savvy biblical adaptation.




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[November 16, 1967] Star Trek: "Metamorphosis"

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by Lorelei Marcus

What Ever Happened to Commissioner Nancy?

The tomfoolery of "I, Mudd" was a delight, but I'm personally more of a fan of the serious episodes that delve deeply into the drama and science. The preview for this week's episode presented a new planet, mystery, and even new characters–how exciting!

"Metamorphosis" begins with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy on a Galileo shuttle craft, escorting a civilian woman back to the Enterprise. The woman is Nancy Hedford, Commissioner for the Federation, who was acting as a diplomat to prevent war between two colonies before she was pulled from her task after contracting a rare but deadly disease. She must be treated within the next twenty-four hours or she'll die.


Commissioner Hedford, after her promotion from the city council of Mayberry

I'm always pleased to see new competent female characters on Star Trek, and here's one that isn't set up to be a love interest for Kirk. Unfortunately it doesn't seem like her character is going to last long. Almost immediately, the shuttle craft is hit by a strange energy beam and is pulled towards an asteroid with its own atmosphere, almost exactly like that of Earth's. Spock theorizes that the planetoid is a fragment from a larger planet that's been split apart. That still doesn't explain how such a small celestial body could retain its own atmosphere, but perhaps there's some supernatural reason for it that they will explain later.

Hedford understandably begins panicking and orders Kirk to put the craft back on course. It's a fascinating contrast to see her civilian reaction compared to the coolheaded and seasoned Enterprise crew. Unfortunately, despite Kirk's best efforts, the craft is still forced to land on the asteroid, and thanks to a powerful dampening field, cannot take off again.


The Galileo Four

Soon after they land, something – or someone – calls to the party and begins to approach them. It turns out to be a young man in a jumpsuit, reminiscent of the Federation uniform, but clearly older in style. The man is amiable, and he seems relieved to see other people again. He recognizes Spock as a Vulcan, but he takes particular interest in Hedford because she is a "beautiful woman". Hedford, twenty-three hours away from death and stuck on an asteroid in the middle of nowhere, brushes off the advance irritably.


Disdain at first sight

The man takes the party to his home, a building he apparently built with the scraps of his ship which was pulled to this planetoid like the Galileo craft. Except, it's revealed, that his ship crashed 150 years ago and he's actually Zefram Cochrane, the original inventor of warp drive! Cochrane explains that at age 87 he took a ship into space to die, but he was discovered by an alien being which drew him to this asteroid and forced him to live there with it. The alien, which he calls the Companion, restored his youth and stopped him from aging, and he's since built a life here with his newfound immortality. (And he was able to grow crops to sustain himself, despite the asteroid's soil comprising almost entirely nickel and iron, but perhaps the Companion had something to do with that).

Kirk's craft was brought here because Cochrane told the Companion he would die of loneliness without other humans in the hopes of being freed. Instead the Companion brought the humans to him, and now refuses to let them leave. Hedford's fever worsens, and she breaks down hysterically, disgusted by the idea of being trapped and forced to be someone's consort.


I wouldn't be too happy, either.

Forced into action by Hedford's deteriorating condition, Kirk begins to think of a plan. The Companion is intelligent and can communicate with Cochrane fairly fluently. It also appears to be composed of raw electricity, and possesses great healing properties if Cochrane's de-aging is any example. Of course the only way to deal with a one-of-a-kind, sentient, all-powerful creature like that… is to kill it! (What is that speech that Kirk gives in the intro? Something about seeking out and exterminating new life and new civilizations? I can never remember.)

Spock conveniently pulls out his electric impulse scrambler (I can only guess where he keeps it), and their attack on the Companion goes about as well as you might expect. Kirk and Spock almost die and are saved only by Cochrane's intervention. McCoy gently suggests to Kirk that perhaps they could try negotiating with the alien instead of hurting it. Kirk agrees that the negotiation sounds like a good idea, and he orders Spock to adjust their universal translator to work on incorporeal beings.


Yes, maybe talking is the better option.

One cut later, and Spock's magically gotten the translator to work. Kirk explains that the alien's voice from the translator will be interpreted as however the creature perceives itself; what a surprise when the voice that comes out is female. Cochrane is dumbfounded, "how can that be possible?"

Kirk makes the point that male and female are universal concepts that apply to all living creatures, and obviously this creature is just female. (I guess he forgot about his basic biological studies and the numerous asexually reproducing living creatures: single celled organisms, plants, certain lizards, Talosians…)

Anyway, because of the Companion's newly discovered sex, Kirk makes the completely baseless assumption that the creature is romantically in love with Cochrane and that is why it sustains him. Cochrane, despite having the wisdom of two entire lifetimes, and living the better part of that time with this creature, finds the possibility of being loved by an alien absolutely disgusting, and he completely rejects the Companion.

Just then, Hedford cries out, and everyone remembers that she exists. On the verge of death, she makes a moving speech lamenting that though she lived an accomplished life with a successful career, she will never get the chance to love romantically or be loved. How selfish Cochrane is, for receiving such a pure form of love and then rejecting it because of his own biases.


I never had time for love because I stop wars for a living.  What's his excuse?

Kirk tries to negotiate with the Companion one last time, in the hopes that it might possibly free them to save Hedford's life. Except, instead of actually discussing a deal and offering the Companion literally anything, Kirk pulls his Kirk logic on the alien and convinces it that the only way for the Companion's love and Cochrane to coexist is for the Companion to be human. I think it would've been simpler to ask if the Companion could just let McCoy and Hedford go so they could save her life, and then he and Spock would stay behind to keep Cochrane company until the Enterprise could return and sort things out. Just me?


The Garden of Zephrem.

Of course the Companion disappears, and then shortly after a completely healed Hedford appears, restored by the Companion who has now occupied her body. Hedford walks towards Cochrane and explains with the Companion's voice that if not for the alien's intervention, Hedford would have ceased, but now they coexist inside her body and are both there, and are both in love with Cochrane. Cochrane instantly gets over his xenophobia now that his lover has a female body, and they decide to stay on the asteroid and live happily ever after together. Oh yeah, and by possessing Hedford's body, the Companion gave up her immortality and Cochrane's with it, and also she can't leave the asteroid because it's the source of her life force, so they are actually stuck there for the rest of their lives. But now they can spend the next 100 years planting fig trees and having sex, so it all works out.

And what about the intergalactic war that Hedford was supposed to stop? Well, in the words of Captain Kirk, "I'm sure the Federation will find some woman, somewhere to stop it."

This episode was so frustrating because it started with so much promise, and then failed in every regard at the ending. I was intrigued to see how they would handle the psyche of a 200-year-old man, and also the relationship between a human and a non-humanoid alien. The writer and Glenn Corbett's performance did neither of these subjects justice. Shatner's performance was particularly stilted, to the point where I had trouble following what he was saying at many points. The pacing started off sharp, but began to meander as the characters made stupider and stupider decisions, and the focus jumped to fun but unnecessary scenes on the Enterprise. But what bothers me most of all is the tragedy of Hedford's character framed as a happy ending.


Not necessarily a happy ending.

The companion speaks for Hedford at the end, and while it claims that both of them are there in consciousness, there is no evidence to justify it. All of Hedford's personality, her tenacity, her drive to complete her duty, and her anxiousness to return to her very pressing work, are gone after she is possessed. Presumably, she really did die on that asteroid, and all that remains are her body and her memories, which the companion takes advantage of to its own end. Or perhaps more horrifyingly, Hedford is still there, but so overpowered by the Companion that she is imprisoned in her own body, doomed to be the slave of this alien and its lover.

I can only hope that this type of story is a fluke, and will not become a standard for Star Trek.

Two stars.


by Joe Reid

Who’s Fooling Who?

It is often the case that at the end of an episode you are left with all of the answers to the questions that were posed in the show and a reasonable conclusion to the adventure of the week.  The intelligent heroes are drawn to a place.  In that place they discover a mystery.  They use the powers and abilities at their disposal to solve that mystery and are rewarded.  The rewards are treasure, or freedom, or their own safety, or that of the ship.  It’s been a reliable formula that I’ve never had reason to doubt, until this week’s episode.

We never doubt what we have seen, because Kirk and Spock directly tell us exactly what is or has happened.  In “Mirror, Mirror”, Kirk told us that the crew has traveled to a parallel universe.  In “The Changeling”, Spock told us the origins of the space robot named Nomad.  “The Doomsday Machine” had Kirk telling us that the giant space funnel was an ancient planet killing weapon that got out of control and destroyed its creators.  How in space did he know that?  More importantly, what if Kirk was wrong in some of his musings?

We ascribe superior intelligence to characters in sci-fi: they are smarter than us, and smarter than whatever baddy they face.  What if this time, instead of our heroes understanding, and outsmarting the baddy, it was the creature who outsmarted the members of the crew?


One smart lady.

“Metamorphosis” featured a powerful entity.  “The Companion” finds an 87-year-old man, Zefram Cochrane, who may or may not have been dead when she found him.  She rejuvenates him to the prime of youthful manhood, feeds him, and keeps him from going insane for 150 years.  She communicates with him in a physical way, enmeshing herself among his very cells.  She must have been pretty advanced to do that.

When the Companion discovered that “the man”, Cochrane, needed female companionship, she reached millions of miles into space and located a vessel containing a dying human woman which would provide the means for her to personally meet the needs of the man.  She grabbed the moving shuttle craft, and by power of force drew it several millions of miles to be stranded on her little asteroid.  If that wasn’t powerful enough, when the Enterprise started to search for the lost shuttle, they discovered a trail from the shuttle to follow.  The Companion, millions of miles away, made the trail vanish.  This creature possessed the ability to manipulate living and inanimate matter on a cellular level from a vast distance. 

As our heroes attempted to communicate with the companion, we thought we were shown a creature that demonstrated the intelligence of a child in her understanding of humans.  A creature that they had to guide to an understanding of humanity using their superior intellect.  What we really saw was a creature so smart that it guided the heroes down a path where they felt accomplished, but it met its own agenda.  All without threatening the Enterprise or killing anyone.

In the end the Companion was able to convince a 230 year old man to love her, everyone else that she was not a threat, and she convinced a dying, love-starved woman to allow her to possess her body.  This episode posed a challenge to the assumption that we understand the story as it is portrayed on the screen.  “Metamorphosis” gave me the satisfaction of doubt at the conclusion.  I liked it.

Four stars.

Boring Sex(es)


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

As I watched "Metamorphosis," I found myself thinking of fig wasps. In my evenings and weekends, I run a small community garden on a church campus; a volunteer fig tree grows long and tall between the fence and the tool shed. When Mr. Cochrane mentioned wanting to plant a fig tree, I figured he was referencing this line:

"But they shall sit every man under
his vine and under his fig-tree;
And none shall make them afraid;"
(Micah 4:4, Tanakh, New Jewish Publication Society of America; a similar quote can be found in 2 Kings 18:31-32 Christian Bible, Revised Standard Version)

The thing about fig trees is they require pollinators. Trees can't ask other trees on dates – or kidnap them for 150 years to flirt with them in incomprehensible energy being ways – so they rely on wind or other species for reproduction. Many trees are self-fertile, meaning the adventuring pollinator need only traipse from one blossom to the next on the same branch, finding different reproductive parts at every turn in a complex mosaic. A few dioecious trees segregate these roles tree-by-tree, but most are self-fertile and don't break into easy categories like "male" or "female."

In general I find, the more I know about plants and pollinators, the less concepts like "male" and "female" mean anything at all.


"Yes. The matter of gender could change the entire situation."

Take figs, as Mr. Cochrane so clearly wants to. Figs can only be pollinated by a tiny wasp who crawls through their fleshy outsides to get to tiny flowers inside, sometimes ripping its wings off in the exercise because the fit is so tight, and spreading pollen as it goes. You see, the fruity flesh we love to eat on toast or in jams is not actually a fruit, botanically speaking, but mushy flowers. The wasp repeats this journey from flower to flower until, exhausted, it lays its eggs and dies inside the fig, to be consumed by those flowers. One portion of the baby wasps – once they metamorphosize from eggs to adults and mate with their own siblings – will live and die without ever leaving that fruit, spending their entire lives carving tunnels for the other portion to escape and continue the cycle.

I don't know about you, but very little of the above sounds like human sex to me, whether the act or the category.


"The idea of male and female are universal constants."  Really?

Still, human scientists often slap labels like "female" on the wasps that climb into figs and "male" onto those who never leave them. They even do so for other pollinators for whose societies those categories fit even less well, like European honeybees, who have at least three clear reproductive roles, and for whom scientists have weirdly assigned "male" to two of (drones and workers) and "female" to the third (queen). The nature I work with every day is vastly more creative and varied than "male" and "female" – a fact which Jewish scholars know well, as the Talmud references up to eight sexes (zachar, nekevah, androgynos, tumtum, aylonit hamah, aylonit adam, saris hamah, and saris adam).

What about an alien society with three sexes, or eight, or none at all, or one who relies on star-blown space ships for their own reproduction? What if Hedford's death had been framed as part of the life-cycle needs of the energy being and not the pale nothing it was?

Now that is science fiction I would love to watch.

As Lorelei points out, this episode had so much promise. While I don't expect television writers to love the complex realities of Earth's natural world in the way that most gardeners do, I do expect them to do even the most basic of research about the world we all share every day, rather than slapping labels on alien life in ways that limit our imaginations rather than expanding them.

Two stars.

The next episode of Trek is tomorrow! Apparently, we're going to meet Spock's parents…

Come join us!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 10, 1967] Mudd in the computer (Star Trek: "I, Mudd")

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"And Thereby Hangs a Tale"


by Amber Dubin

"I, Mudd" follows the tradition set by three other episodes we've seen so far, in which the crew of the Enterprise has to out-logic a robot ("What are little girls made of," "Return of the Archons," "Changeling"). Even though this episode recycles many of the same themes we've seen in those episodes, it offers enough unique elements to make it my favorite of its kind.

We open on a hallway conversation between the ship's doctor and chief science officer where the ever-cynical medico's instincts lead him to correctly identify an interloper on the ship in the form of the newest crewmember, Lieutenant Norman.


"What did he call me?"

Unfortunately, Spock rebuffs Dr. McCoy's theory (logically) because his reasoning points out Norman's inhuman behaviors, many of which overlap with those of Spock himself. McCoy insists that "the ears make all the difference" but the damage is clearly done as the supposedly unemotional Spock abruptly extricates himself from the conversation with an acerbic retort.


"I mean, you're one of the good ones."

McCoy is immediately vindicated when Norman's next move is to hijack the ship. He single handedly dispatches two security teams, all of engineering including Scotty, rigs the controls to blow if the ship deviates from the course he assigns it, and barges straight onto the bridge to explain the now-captive crew's new situation. Norman presents Captain Kirk a "choice" to either go on a four day voyage to an unknown destination or face the immediate destruction of the Enterprise. Ever cool under pressure, Kirk demands to know the nature of his attacker. Norman responds only by peeling back a panel under his shirt to reveal an android abdomen full of wires.


An android's navel–note that these robots don't use integrated circuits…

Further inquiries over who sent him are met with "I am not programmed to respond in that area" before he immediately shuts himself off. So confident is he in his power play (pun intended) that Norman leaves his unconscious body standing in the middle of the doorway to the bridge. Apparently no one disturbs him for four days as the crew seems startled from their normal activities when Norman abruptly awakes and makes further demands. He acts as if he's giving the crew another choice as he requests a set of personnel to accompany him on the planet they're now orbiting, but again refusal means certain death. At least he said “please” this time.

It soon becomes clear why Norman was reluctant to reveal who sent him, because we next open up to a throne room centered around none other than the illustrious Harcourt Fenton Mudd. Undeterred by Mudd's declaration of newfound sovereignty, Kirk charges at him and commences a delightful volley of banter where Mudd catches the crew up on what he's been up to since they last left him in custody for his transgressions. Surprising no one, Harry's made a mess of every situation he's been involved in and has found himself marooned on this planet of 200,000 androids while fleeing the consequences of his actions. Through much childish bickering on Harry's part, Kirk manages to wrench the truth out of the scoundrel, soon discovering that Mudd is just as much a prisoner of the androids as the Enterprise crew is.


"They won't let me go!"

A strange detail comes into play when the crew is being led away and stumbles upon the shrine to Stella, Mudd's wife. It seems odd that Harry would be so sentimental as to make an exact replica of the nagging shrew he gratefully abandoned galaxies away. It must follow that either the loneliness of being the only human on an android planet compelled Mudd to seek security in the familiar or he is such an adversarial man that the ability to make a version of a nemesis he could program with an off button proved to be an irresistible temptation. The most ironic element of that situation is that Stella may be shrill and harping but with a husband like Harcourt, the audience can't help but be squarely on her side.

Unsurprisingly, the androids reject Mudd the second they have any other humans to compare him to, and devote themselves to providing everything the crew wants so they can better serve humanity. They explain that serving humans gives the androids renewed purpose and protects humans by taking care of their every need to save them from themselves. Elements of the gilded cage they're presented with tempt each of the crew members in turn, but whenever a wish contradicts the terms of their captivity, the crew begins to notice that the androids balk at the paradox by freezing in place, their ID necklaces flashing until the conflict is resolved. It is subsequently discovered that the androids are part of a partial hive-mind directed by Norman and that they defer to him to avoid overloading individual units when logical computation is stalled. Thus ensues a campaign to confuse and overload as many androids by whatever means possible. Fake music, subterfuge, logical fallacies, play acting and flat-out lies become weaponized against the unsuspecting computers; each crewman performs their ridiculous acts admirably, especially Spock, who befuddles several androids all by himself.


"Sorry, ladies.  I'm just too good for you."

The episode reaches a delightful climax as the crew's play-acting for Norman finally causes literal steam to billow out of his ears and he admits humans are too complex to be managed by anyone but other humans. In the even more satisfying conclusion, after reaching a peaceful solution to coexist with the androids, Mudd's punishment is revealed to be exile on the android planet so they can help him rehabilitate his nefarious ways. Mudd initially rejoices in this reward of a punishment, until the crew unveils his personal attendants: 500 copies of Stella, this time without her off switch.

Not one line of the script is superfluous and every crewman is at their most efficient and capable as they execute every plan flawlessly. The script, plot, performances and design of this episode click together as seamlessly as the gears powering a well-constructed android.

I am a self-confessed, dyed-in-the-wool robot-a-phile. It is thus inevitable that I give this episode…

5 stars

The Shrew in the Ointment


by Janice L. Newman

I’ll admit, the preview for this episode had me worried. “Mudd’s Women” had some good elements, but was overall one of the weaker episodes of the first season. Happily, this episode was much better than that first one starring Mudd. There was just one problem that took it down a star for me – a fly in the ointment, if you will.

It was an old, old, joke even when Shakespeare did it: the harridan wife and her ne’er-do-well husband. Despite the fact that the audience knows that Harry Mudd’s perspective is unreliable, and thus his version of his wife may not represent the real woman, upon seeing the cartoonishly-awful “Stella” android we can’t help but be repelled and thus sympathize with the charismatic Mudd. Yet a moment’s thought makes one realize how nonsensical it is in the context of Star Trek. This is the future. Is it really so hard to get a divorce if one is unhappy with one’s spouse? If two people are so miserable together, is it truly necessary for one of them to flee into outer space? And sure, another moment’s thought is all it takes to realize that Mudd likely married his wife to gain some kind of monetary benefit, and that if we were in her place, we might be shrill, too. Still, Stella isn’t particularly funny, and for me, even Mudd’s comeuppance was poisoned by her sour, nagging presence.


If Harry Mudd put you in a closet, you'd make this face, too.

The rest of the episode is great, though; one of the best “break the computer” ones we’ve seen. Four stars.

A little bit of Vaudeville


by Gideon Marcus

Something I love about the stellar anthology show, Star Trek, is how versatile it is.  One week, we're getting political commentary, with ramifications right from the headlines of today (e.g. "A Taste of Armageddon"), another we're getting a Halloween-themed piece ("Catspaw").  An episode might be a rendition of a classic war movie ("Balance of Terror") or a retelling of Hamlet ("Conscience of the King").

"I, Mudd" takes place almost entirely on a spartan subterranean set, and largely features entertaining characters conversing with each other.  It's like an extended Hollywood Palace sketch.  It really shouldn't work, but it does.

From Kirk's masterful exchanges with Mudd (with Kirk displaying just the right mix of exasperation, anger, and amusement) to Chekov's lively Cossack dances, to the halting…yet endearing…cadence of…the androids, to Uhura's silky mock betrayal (she really is getting a chance to shine this season!), to the grand finale filled with pantomimed absurdity–it's a stage-bound pageant of comedy.  Interestingly, the avante garde Marc Daniels was tapped to direct rather than the more stagey Joe Pevney.  You see his surrealistic influences particularly during the dance scenes.


No caption required.

That the story is actually pretty good is a bonus.  If the show doesn't quite reach five star status for me, it's because while I enjoyed the show thoroughly, it was a bit too frivolous to feel like "real" Star Trek–essentially the same complaint I had about "Catspaw", but with an execution that makes me all but forgive the lapse.

Four stars.

Tonight's episode seems like it will be more of a serious affair.  At least we'll find out what happened to Glenn Corbett after he left Route 66…

Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[November 2, 1967] Trouble and Toil (Star Trek: Catspaw)

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Such stuff as dreams are made of


by Joe Reid

For the first several episodes, this second season of Star Trek was solidly impressive.  We got to attend a Vulcan wedding.  We saw a mythological deity from human antiquity in a sci-fi setting.  We saw a transistorized deity faced and defeated.  Then a dark alternate universe, followed by a giant cornucopia of doom!  I regret that I must mention the episode with the red colored rock lizard worshippers, since that was undoubtedly the low point of this season.  Sadly, this week’s episode, titled “Catspaw” comes very close to hitting the low that “The Apple” achieved.

Dear readers, in my opinion, futuristic sci-fi shows should avoid doing holiday themed episodes.  I have no desire to watch sci-fi episodes about Christmas or Thanksgiving.  Nor Easter, the 4th of July, Passover, Saint Patrick’s Day, or Columbus Day.  So, watching what clearly stood out as "made for Halloween" was disappointing.  Especially since I do not feel that the episode was served by the inclusion of said theme.

We started this seventh episode of the second season on the bridge of the Enterprise as our heroes awaited a report from the landing party composed of Scotty, Sulu, and a Crewman Jackson.  A message came in from Jackson, with no word about the others.  As Jackson beamed up to the ship, he arrived on the transport circle dead on arrival.  Then from the non-moving mouth of the dead man came a ghostly warning to leave the planets and that the Enterprise was cursed.


"There is a curse on you!  Also, you've left the oven on"!

Determined to find out the fates of Scotty and Sulu, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and Dr. McCoy beam down to the planet to find their people.  Arriving on the surface they find that it was a dark and foggy night.  What comes next, I was not expecting: As the trio begin their search, they are confronted by three ugly witch apparitions, and wouldn’t you know it they have a poem to share.  “Winds shall rise, and fog descend, so leave here all, or meet your end.” Poetry so bad that it even garners a negative review from Spock.


"Hail Captain Kirk, Thane of Cawdor!"

If that isn’t a blatant enough holiday reference, Kirk and the others soon find themselves at a dark and eerie castle.  Upon entering they are startled by a black cat which leads Kirk to make the first explicit Halloween reference of the night about trick or treat.  They follow the cat hoping to see where it would lead them only to be knocked unconscious as the floor collapsed below their feet.


"There's my litter box!"

They awaken to find themselves chained to the walls of a dungeon next to a skeleton that looks exactly like what it is: a Halloween decoration, or maybe a model skeleton from my kid’s science classroom.  As the doors to their cell open, we get our first looks at Scotty and Sulu as they enter the dungeon.  Both are under some sort of magic spell and can’t speak but make it clear that they will take Kirk and the others to the people in charge.


I hope they weren't paid by the line for this one…

They meet two aliens that have taken the forms of a wand-sporting wizard named Korob, and the beautiful witch, Sylvia.  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy find themselves at the mercy of powers that could endanger the Enterprise in orbit, conjure items out of thin air, and mind control their crewmembers.


Korob and Sylvia–a tale of two coiffures

It is here that the spooky themes began to subside as the magicians reveal themselves as truly alien, with little understanding of humans or even having physical bodies.  They need humans and our minds to allow them more of the new experiences that they had created.  An interesting premise, but since this is Halloween, it is drowned in hocus pocus.

In the end, Kirk is able to learn about and destroy the magic wand…er…transmuter, the item that allowed their powers to work.  The defeated aliens returned to their original forms and promptly die.  The conclusion of the episode comes fast with virtually no transition, save for a brief explanation from Kirk to his newly liberated crew.


"The missing pages of the script are right there."

Outside of the unnecessary holiday theme, this episode managed to stay true to the elements of what makes Star Trek good.  The characters' behaviors were consistent with what we have come to expect.  Kirk was smart and brave.  Spock was insightful, and others, so long as they were not mind controlled, behaved as they should.  Also the aliens had actual, explained reasons for their actions. All this combined made this episode passable and not the absolute debacle that “The Apple” was.

3 stars.

A fool thinks himself to be wise


by Janice L. Newman

It wasn’t a surprise to learn that the same author who wrote "What Are Little Girls Made Of?", one of the worst episodes of the first season, also wrote "Catspaw". Robert Bloch is famous for his horror writing, particularly the movie Psycho. But his horror fantasy scripts simply do not translate well to the grounded science fiction of Star Trek.

"Catspaw" was a frustrating experience. Not just because it didn’t feel at all like a Star Trek episode (and naysayers in the fanzines will no doubt comment, as they did with "Miri" in the first season, that they happened to catch this episode and weren’t impressed), but also because it had the potential to be an interesting episode but simply couldn’t make it work.

Firstly, the idea that the ‘collective unconscious fears’ of our species would be reflected in a gothic castle, Shakespearian witches, and black cats, is simply ridiculous. If there is some kind of collective unconscious for humanity, the reflection of it must necessarily be both much more chaotic and universal to the human experience. This flaw could have been overcome either by saying that the aliens drew their ideas of us from our popular culture, or perhaps that they drew on one particular crewmember’s unconscious fears. Alternatively, rather than using the traditional gothic symbolism, the show could have tried something more innovative, imagining what might frighten any human anywhere throughout all of history.

Another flaw was the pacing. The scene of Sulu unlocking everyone’s chains took far too long, for example, while the final scene felt rushed. The scenes on the bridge were dull, especially with the wooden DeSalle in charge.


"I am acting!"

A particularly annoying problem with the episode was that it set up situations to be resolved and then didn’t follow through. The most egregious example of this occurs when the bridge crew finally manage to ‘dent’ the forcefield around them—only to have the forcefield lifted by one of the aliens before they can escape it on their own. While I would have been mildly irritated at the similarity to "Who Mourns for Adonais?" if the crew had cleverly managed to escape, I was far more irritated that the crew was set up to escape and then not given the opportunity to do. What was the point of those scenes on the bridge, then?

The ‘horrific’ aspects to the story often came across as comedic instead. Perhaps the ugly witches might scare a young child watching the show, but the room full of adults I was watching with chuckled at their appearance and their sung proclamations. One of the saddest pieces of wasted potential was the aliens’ true appearance. They looked like little birds made of pipe cleaners, and when they came on the screen they got the loudest laugh of the evening. A scene which could have and should have been poignant or grotesque was again turned comedic by poor writing, pacing, and framing.

I’m torn as to what rating to give this episode. On one hand, it didn’t even feel like an episode of Star Trek. On the other, there were some interesting elements, and it wasn’t confusing like "The Alternative Factor" or dully exasperating like "The Apple". Plus, there was a cat. Still, when all is said and done, the wince-inducing scenes between Kirk and the Sorceress canceled out what good there could have been. I can’t give it more than one star.

Signifying Nothing


by Amber Dubin

It's ironic that this episode is called "catspaw" because the plot is about as cohesive as a heavily pawed ball of yarn; a tangle of threads that don't hold together or go anywhere.

The acting quality of the episode peaks early with the deeply convincing collapse of ensign Jackson off the transporter pad. Yet the fact that he is the only non-essential crewman sent down to this clearly hostile planet makes less than no sense. Continuing the madness, after Jackson's corpse is used to deliver a message of warning that's immediately ignored, Kirk, Spock and McCoy are subjected to another gratuitous display from disembodied witch heads spouting Shakespearian-esque poetry. You would think this theme of theater-obsessed eccentric illusion-projectors would continue, but you would be wrong, as the only further theatrical implications come in the form of the heavily made up and costumed Korob, whose appearance is given no explanation.


Though you must admit: the camera loves him!

In further defiance of explanation, the crew wakes up chained to the walls of a dungeon after the floor of the castle they enter haphazardly collapses beneath them. Next ensues an absolutely mystifying scene where a zombified Sulu painstakingly unlocks their restraints cuff by cuff. This gesture is immediately made unnecessary when they are teleported into a throne room with Korob, one of their captors. As we've seen in "Squire of Gothos" or "Who Mourns for Adonais?" Korob reveals himself to be overpowered alien attempting to understand the nature of man. He doesn't get too far in his speech, however, before he is upstaged by the real star of the play, the necklace-wearing black cat that transforms into Sylvia, a beautiful woman.

I was hoping Sylvia's introduction would lead to a McCoy-centered episode, as Bones seems to be unable to take his eyes off her.. necklace.. from the moment she enters. That theory is immediately banished as they are all teleported back to the dungeon and McCoy re-enters as a zombie (a role to which he is well-suited). The task of seducing the femme-fatale then predictably falls on Kirk, who delivers his clunkiest and least believable performance in the series so far as he outright fails in his attempt to make her feel too pretty to harm them any longer.

Despite this entirely nonsensical plot, somehow the biggest disappointment of the episode is yet to come as the aliens descend into madness. Korob is killed by a giant door, which is as easily avoidable as it is imaginary, making it therefore harmless to a being capable of casting such illusions. Even more absurdly, these magical beings, who are said to be powerful conjurors with no abilities of sensory perception, are suddenly revealed to resemble tiny, delicate bundles of exposed nerves.


Jim Henson presents: rejected muppets!

The episode abruptly ends, nothing is resolved, no one understands anything better and I'm baffled by the fact that a simple framing device of a crewman explaining Halloween to Spock at the beginning of the episode could have cleared up where these aliens got material for all the imagery in the episode. Instead, we spent more time watching Sulu unlock imaginary restraints than we do deciphering the nature or motivations of crusty blue pipe-cleaner puppet-gods.

Ridiculous. Two stars.


by Gideon Marcus

The Play's the Thing

I must confess–I did not hate this episode.  Not because it was good; heavens no!  It wasn't even Star Trek.  Just our favorite characters having a Halloween lark.  In fact, in my mind, I've completely disregarded it as a Star Trek episode.  Just as Spock and Uhura sometimes jam together in the lounge (why haven't we seen that this season?), and just as Kirk insists that real turkey be served on Thanksgiving, I've concluded that it is an Enterprise tradition that Halloween is celebrated with a big todo.

I can see Sylvia actually being Lt. McGivers' replacement, and with a minor in theatrics.  Once aboard the Enterprise, she began penning her magnum opus: a play involving all of the senior officers of the ship.  Suddenly, all the nonsensical bits make sense.  The beaming down of Scotty and Sulu as a landing party, the spooky settings and effects, the endless kissing scenes ("Oh, but Captain, these are vital to the plot!  Really, it won't breach protocol at all…")


"Did I hear a door slam?  Darn.  We'll have to do the whole take over!"

Taken as such, suddenly the episode is palatable.  It does move pretty well. Theo Marcuse is always a delight (and a genuine war hero, and he has a great last name; he's probably my cousin).  The score was nifty, particularly in the fight scene.  Less so in the five minute bit when Sulu unlocked Kirk's fetters.

And there was abundant display of a cat.  That, alone, is worth a star.

So, again, "Catspaw" isn't a good episode.  But I would watch it in reruns three times before I suffered through "The Apple" again…

Two stars.

Something Wicked this way Comes


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I rather enjoyed this episode. As Amber said, it wasn't good. But it was fun. Maybe it's because I enjoy camp. I liked Theo Marcuse's silks and jewels and perfectly shaved eyebrows. I liked the kitschy sets – perhaps borrowed from a recent vampire flick? – and as other writers have noted, the cat was a special treat.

I was less impressed by how many of the so-called ‘collective unconscious fears' involved woman-hating. Crones and seductresses, liars and cheats, the non-crewwomen in this episode were like something from Jesse Helms' fever dreams, no collective I'm a part of.

Janice's proposition that the episode would have been better if it had featured truly universal fears sparks my imagination far more than anything in the episode itself. What truly scares everyone? In a world with apocalypse-worshiping churchgoers, can we say everyone is afraid of death? I would say that many, many of us are afraid of a nuclear attack from our friends across the Bering Strait, but people living outside of the blast zones could be reasonably excused from the universality of that fear.

Stepping away from the philosophical mindtwister Janice gives us and back to this rather silly episode, I am looking forward to seeing this one in reruns. There's just something so fun about our heroes getting tied up – several times – like maidens in a gothic novel.


I think the Captain is starting to enjoy it…

Watching Captain Kirk once again try to kiss his way out of trouble was made all the more fun when his captor/target caught him at his game and refused to play anymore. Despite Sylvia's embodiment of a mushy handful of cruel gender stereotypes, I found myself enjoying her time on screen more than almost anyone aside from the core cast. Cheers to Antoinette Bower for taking a two-dimensional role and turning it into something fun and memorable.

There were many, many, many ways this episode could have been improved. I would be disappointed if next week's episode shared in the same nasty stereotypes of women. I fear it will, as it centers on one of my least favorite characters in this series, Mr. Mudd.

Perhaps Sylvia will make a guest appearance and turn him into a toad before he hurts more women.

Three stars.

I don't know how likely it is that Mudd will get his comeuppance, but we can certainly hope!

The episode airs tomorrow night.  Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[October 26, 1967] Duet in G(ray) (Star Trek: "The Doomsday Machine")

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by Gideon Marcus

Remember, thou are but a mortal

For the past year and a half, we've thrilled to the sight of the Enterprise, a graceful vessel that calls to mind the spindly beauty of tall ships and the blunt power of a battleship.  We've seen her proudly sailing the ether, shaken about by time streams, canted oddly after an attack.

But until last week's episode, we never saw one of her class utterly wrecked.

In the opening scenes of "The Doomsday Machine", when the Enterprise comes across the wrecked Constellation, accompanied by a most effective dirge, it is a gut punch.  The misaligned warp pods.  The charred saucer.  It calls to mind visions of Pearl Harbor, of kamikaze-ravaged ships.  A starship is mortal, we realize.

So, too, is its captain.  The sight of Commodore Decker, mute with shock when Kirk first beams aboard the Constellation, is all too believable.  This is a man we can believe has been stunned out of his mind first by the wreck of his ship by an enormous, extragalactic planet-wrecker, and then by the destruction of his helpless crew by the same implacable menace.  That he alone should be the sole survivor of this disaster is all the more painful–to him, and to us.

If we sympathize with poor Decker, ably played by the ubiquitous character actor William Windom, we can feel little but revulsion for the planet killer, a cross between Saberhagen's berzerkers and Marvel's Galactus.  Plated with impenetrable armor and self-regenerating, the juggernaut has the power of Nomad, but with none of the human-induced fallibility.  It is simply a mindless killing machine.

In the battle that ensues, we root for the crippled Constellation, helmed by Captain Kirk and held together by Scotty, Washburn, and two unnamed crewmen.  We root for the Enterprise, crippled by the presence of a maniacally driven Matt Decker, who assumes command over vociferous and constant objections by Mr. Spock.  If the three-cornered fight is occasionally hindered by inconsistent special effects, it is immeasurably helped by fine acting and an incomparable, Emmy-deserving score.

The drama that takes place on the bridge of the Enterprise is no less compelling, drawing strongly from The Caine Mutiny, complete with Decker fondling tape cartridges like Queeg's ball-bearings.  And unlike in that tremendous book (and less successful movie), Spock has no stomach for mutiny. Deliverance of the Enterprise must wait until Kirk can reestablish command.

"The Doomsday Machine" sees the death of Commodore Decker and the near death of Captain Kirk, both vital to the destruction of the planet killer.  Decker's suicide run with a shuttlecraft establishes the enemy's weakness; Kirk's determination to ram the Constellation inside the machine proves the strongest weapon against it.  But it is really the loss of the Constellation, sacrificed to immolate the destroyer from inside, that impacts the most.  One of the Enterprise's 12 sisters is dead.  Its skipper and complement of 400 will have no thrilling adventures, no end-of-the-episode laugh line.  And if one starship can die, any of them can.

While credit must be given both to the regular cast and this episode’s guest star, and I have already praised the music, there are yet laurels to pass out.  Marc Daniels has consistently impressed with his tight and creative direction, especially in contrast to the competent but rather staid work of the fellow he seems to alternate episodes with, Joe Pevney.  Whomever edited this episode also did a terrific job, often cutting seamlessly between two dialogues to ratchet up the pace.  And, of course, writer Norm Spinrad is no stranger to good science fiction, having been writing it since 1962.  It is probably him we can thank for the "hardness" and plausibility of this episode.

There are a few quibbles, a few scientific gaffes, and my comrades may discuss them.  But for my money, this was perhaps science fiction's finest hour on television.

Five stars.

Call him Ishmael


by Amber Dubin

The tale this episode follows is a well-worn one in sea-faring lore, but I was nevertheless pleasantly surprised to see Star Trek take on the classic story of Moby Dick. Commodore Decker is cast as Ahab, a shipwreck of a captain on a wrecked ship maddened by the obsession with the entity that took everything from him. His illogical pursuit of his white whale is just as turbulent as the protagonist of the famous novel, but what sets this retelling apart from the rest is the gracefulness with which the crew of the Enterprise strike a delicate balance between adherence to duty and survival.

This is on full display in the way Spock does his best to ignore the commodore's obvious madness in order to follow the rules of his station. I found myself shouting, "just nerve pinch him!" as I was forced to watch Decker spit on every opportunity Spock offered him to choose a logical path. Kirk, on the other hand, ever the space cowboy, immediately undermines all the subtlety of the crew's struggles by exclaiming "blast the rules" and outright calling the commodore a ship-stealing tyrant. I found this to be a refreshing deviation to the plot, because Kirk was very much speaking my mind and I was grateful to see the crew rally behind him in exhausted, fearful relief.


A happier crew

While I wasn't thrilled about the spacial reasoning behind the climactic battles, it's incontestable that the score and cinematography in this episode were phenomenal. The last scene, when the transporter kept malfunctioning up until the last seconds before the explosion, had me literally biting my nails with suspense. Likewise, the pulsating droning of the music that started when the crew boarded the shipwrecked vessel left me authentically unsettled and made me wonder what horrors they would stumble upon. This thematic wariness provided the perfect backdrop to introduce the commodore, as he was essentially a discarded shell of himself, a dead man cursed to haunt the abandoned halls of his once mighty and powerful ship.

The place where this episode lost points for me was the forced simile Kirk kept pushing about the killer robot being a doomsday device like an H-bomb. It felt like a ham-fisted attempt to force relevance to our times, which I found unnecessary when a story of a powerful man driven mad by failure was timeless in itself. Moreover, stating that this robot must have been used as doomsday device is a view as limited as the potential usages the H-bomb, or the power behind it. True, the mahine has the destructive power of a powerful bomb but the robot could just as easily have been once used to convert inert material into energy to feed a planet, not destroy it. I'm most disappointed that there's a gaping hole in Kirk's logic over the origin of this device and Spock isn't even tempted to close it. Possibly Spock doesn't challenge his captain's theory because he has been burnt out from challenging illogical authority figures all day, but I have to stretch to make this explanation fit.

Four Stars

There but for the grace of God…


by Janice L. Newman

The Traveler nicely summed up how painful it was to see a sister-ship of the Enterprise fatally wounded. But what held my attention was Commander Decker’s plight and performance. Though some of my companions gently mocked his scenery-chewing tendencies, I found his first appearance and his explanation of what had happened to his ship to be compelling. This was a man at the end of his rope, who had endured the greatest loss any starship captain could imagine: the loss of his ship and crew.

If Captain Kirk should ever live through such a nightmare, I firmly believe he would behave in much the same way. Starfleet must choose captains who have a certain, shall we say, obsessive streak when it comes to their ships and crews. We’ve seen Kirk become aggressive and irrational when his ship is threatened. We’ve also seen him brought back from mind-altered states more than once when giving in would have meant the loss of his ship. For Kirk, the Enterprise and its complement mean everything to him. It’s all too easy to picture him in Decker’s place, a broken, desperate, suicidal, and vengeful man.


Would Kirk face the death of his own ship so calmly?

Four stars.

By the way, we're just burning to see what happens in the next episode of Star Trek, coming out tomorrow night!

Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[October 20, 1967] Spoils the Bunch (Star Trek: "The Apple")

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by Gideon Marcus

The Aper

My brother likes to quip that "imitation is the sincerest form of mockery", and boy howdy did last night's episode make a mockery of this amazing show we've come to love.

There has now been a season of Star Trek plus five episodes in season two.  As often happens with brilliant new shows, we're starting to see repetition of plotlines, reliance on clichés rather than innovation.  "The Changeling" recalled "Return of the Archons."  "Who Mourns for Adonais" recalled "Space Seed" and "Charlie X".  However, these mild echoes are nothing compared to what is easily the worst episode of the second season thus far, and possibly of the entire show: "The Apple".

Investigating the planet Gamma Trianguli VI (a real star – one of the three that make up Triangulum, a somewhat obscure constellation most noteworthy for containing the lovely galaxy M33), Kirk beams down with a whopping eight other crew to enjoy what appears to be an absolute paradise planet a la "Shore Leave".  Why the captain, first officer, and the chief medical officer are required for this mission of preliminary exploration is never explained.  The garden aspects of the planet are mostly conveyed by dialogue; unlike "Shore Leave", Gamma Trianguli VI is composed of an obvious set with lots of potted plants.


"Captain, you might stop playing with every flower.  One did just kill a crewman."

For the next twenty minutes, we watch the hapless party mowed down in turn by: 1) spore-shooting plants (like "This Side of Paradise" but deadly), 2) exploding rocks, and 3) lightning bolts.  Eventually, Kirk concludes that it's too dangerous for the ship's senior personnel to stay any longer, but now the Enterprise has no power because something from the planet has drained it.


"Cap'n!  This is the fifth week in a row something's kept us in orbit!  Are ye sure it's not in the Writer's Guide?"

It is only then, almost to the third act, that the story begins.  Kirk captures and slaps "Akuta", a red-skinned caucasian tribal chief with Peter Graves' hair, who is "the eyes and ears of Vaal".  Vaal, it turns out, is a giant Gorn head made out of papier mâché with steps leading into his mouth.  Said head controls the weather, the flora, and the people, using immense machines located underground a la Forbidden Planet.  And yet, it requires that the natives periodically shovel explodey rocks into its mouth to top off its gas tank (with music lifted from "Amok Time").  In return, Vaal grants peace, tranquility, and virtual immortality.  Like Landru in "Return of the Archons."  The only difference is, unlike "Archons", where the citizens get a night of wild abandon every so often, the Triangulans must abstain from sex.


"But it's been 20,000 years!  Can't we go steady now?"

Which is why Vaal doesn't want Earthmen around.  They just can't keep their hands off each other.  But, instead of telling Kirk and co. to go home, it kills the landing party one by one, ultimately ordering the tribesmen (but not the women, despite their not being involved in child rearing or motherhood by order of Vaal, so there's really no basis for discrimination) to kill the rest of the starmen.  Despite their ineptitude at violence, they do manage to brain the last male security guard, though the lone female guard displays an unusual degree of competence in fending them off.  I think I know what changes I'd make to the Enterprise's duty roster…


Kato's got competition…

Finally, with the Enterprise spiraling into the atmosphere due to Vaal's grasp (no green hand as in "Adonais", but the effect is the same), and with Kirk's team depleted by half, the captain hits upon the idea of denying Vaal food.  This makes Vaal mad, so Kirk orders that the Enterprise shoot Vaal with phasers.  In a scene lifted directly from "Adonais", complete with special effects shots AND MUSIC, the Enterprise deactivates Vaal.


"Tyrannosaurus!  Diplodocus!  You were right.  Triceratops… you were right…The time has passed. There is no room for dinosaur gods."

This despite the fact that Scotty said he'd tied "everything but the kitchen sink" into the impulse engines to try to break away from Vaal.  I guess he meant "everything but the kitchen sink and the energy from the most powerful weapons ever invented." Which, by the way, we know can be transferred to engine power because we saw Scotty do it in "The Galileo Seven".

Anyway, now the people of GTVI are free to experience the joys of hard labor, disease, and death in childbirth.  Of course, there is some hand-wringing about violating the "non-interference directive", mostly by Spock, and countered by McCoy, who feels a world without sex isn't one worth living in.  Never mind that the point is moot–Kirk has no choice but to destroy Vaal lest he lose his ship.  Which makes the whole conundrum both repetitive and pointless.

Add to that a really tic-laden performance from Shatner, and "The Apple" sinks to the bottom of the barrel, recalling and, at the same time, displacing last season's "The Alternative Factor".

One star.

One rotten apple…


by Janice L. Newman

What is there to say about The Apple that hasn’t already been said above? It was bad, offensively so. Not just because the story was inconsistent and at times nonsensical. We’ve come to accept such stories with varying degrees of equanimity on other shows, like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. What made this episode particularly bad and offensive was that it didn’t have the quality we’ve come to specifically expect from Star Trek. Other shows rarely, if ever, give us the well-written science fiction we crave. "Star Trek" has set a standard for itself, especially with two of the early second season episodes, "Amok Time" and "Mirror, Mirror", both of which my fellow Journeyers rated highly. To know that it can be better and watch it fail spectacularly was far more painful than if we’d had low expectations going in. After waiting all week to watch the new episode and inviting friends to watch it with us on our new color television, we ended up wasting an hour of our lives.


I don't think RCA is going to sell many sets with this episode…

There were a couple of bright spots. Apparently the writer wanted to see Spock get hurt repeatedly. In the course of the 50 minute episode, Spock gets shot with poisonous spores, nearly blown up, struck by lightning, and zapped by a force field. While this series of events almost became comedic, Nimoy’s low-key performance is excellent as always.


"I said I like my steak well done, not my Spock!"

McCoy, too, delivers a snappy and acerbic comment that was one of the highlights of the episode ("So much for paradise"). And as annoying as I found her romance with Chekov, I was thrilled to see Martha-the-security-guard successfully flip and subdue a man much larger than she was. It’s about time we see a little equality in the security forces on the ship. We have an equal-opportunity bridge crew, yet the people wearing red are almost always men.

These pinpoints of light were few and far between, like stars at the edge of the galaxy. Unfortunately, they couldn’t save the vast stretch of nothing that was the rest of the episode.

One star.

Something Borrowed


by Joe Reid

The other day I saw a TV advertisement for a child’s toy.  It was a hat with propellers on it.  The children in the commercial ran around and laughed.  They behaved as if these hats were the most fun that they had ever had.  Conversely the child in me looked at that hat and said, “that has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.” The creator of the propeller hat didn’t appear to have put much thought into making a toy that was either interesting or fun, or God-forbid, educational.  He likely saw a child in an old comic strip with a propeller beanie on and thought, “This must be what real children think is fun.  There’s a child in this comic strip with one.  Think of what we could do with two props!”


(not with "The Apple", he didn't)

This week’s episode of Star Trek felt very much to me like that hat.  It looked and felt uncomfortable.  It was utterly pointless and in the end, it just wasn’t very fun at all.  It was a collection of pieces of what one may have thought a good episode of Star Trek was made up of without actually being good, nor relevant, nor consistent.  It was just empty.

“The Apple" was penned by Max Ehrlich, known for his acclaimed non-SF novels, The Takers and Deep is the Blue.  He must obviously be up on Star Trek, because he couldn't have cribbed so many bits from other episodes so far, otherwise.


(not with "The Apple", he didn't)

Up until now, episodes of Star Trek showed our heroes going to strange and amazing settings.  To worlds that have histories and that have been shaped by powerful forces.  They traveled to a ruined world where only children exist, due to a disease that killed the adults.  To a paradise where a lonely god waited millennia for humans to re-join him.  To a ranch where an intelligent fungus gives you perfect health but mind controls you with euphoria.  These were stories set in fantastic places where strange things happen for reasons that serve those worlds.  “The Apple” blatantly lifts elements from these previous episodes.  Story elements that grounded and explained the worlds of the episodes exist in this episode devoid of what meaning they held before and bearing no meaning for the story we saw them in this week.

Ehrlich is like the marketing executive who came up with the idea for the propeller hat.  After all, hats are big; propellers are keen; surely, combining them would be a gas.  All that's needed to sell the idea is to show kids having a blast wearing it!

And so, Ehrlich takes elements from beloved episodes, gussies them up with exploding rocks, giant lizard heads, and innocent naïve natives turned killer, and hopes we'll buy "The Apple" because, hey, it's Star Trek, ain't it?

Sure. Like the 40th copy from a ditto machine is the original.  And efforts to include new elements fall flat, too.  I'm thinking of the uncharacteristically forced romance that we witnessed between Chekov and the female Ensign, and the awkward attempts at comedy at the expense of the same Ensign, which even flustered the ever-logical Spock.  The one exception to this being any comedic line delivered by Mr. DeForest Kelly, Dr. McCoy.  That man is so funny he makes even bad dialogue work when he performs it.


"Jim, I've got an idea.  Why don't you give me all the lines?

At the end of the day, “The Apple” was unfocused, derivative, and uninteresting television.  Borrowing good story points from others that do not serve a new story does not make for a good episode, any more than sticking fans on a beanie makes a good toy.  Instead of things happening for a reason they simply existed so that something happened.  Without the reasons why things were as they were, “The Apple” came across vapid and empty.  Here’s hoping that next week we return to tales that have more meaning than this. 

1 star

Well, maybe the next episode, airing TONIGHT, will be better.  Looks like the Enterprise is in for a bumpy ride..

Here's the invitation. Come join us!



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[October 12, 1967] See you on the flip side (Star Trek: "Mirror, Mirror")

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by Joe Reid

A Shadowy Reflection

As this most intriguing and excellent season of Star Trek continues on we find ourselves delighted week after week with more thoughtful and fantastical stories.  This week takes the cake!  I have stated repeatedly that Star Trek is a mirror to society here on Earth, today in 1967.  This episode took that mirror and held it up to its own world and its characters.  Appropriately, the writers called it “Mirror, Mirror”.  Let’s take a gander at it and see what’s on the other side.

The episode opens on an alien world as a storm rages.  Captain Kirk is in discussion with the very human looking Halkan Council to allow the Federation to mine dilithium on their planet. Uhura, Dr. McCoy, and Scotty are with him as part of the landing party.  With negotiations stalled, as the Halkans don’t wish to see their dilithium used by those who may cause harm to even a single person, Kirk decides to return to the ship due to the coming ion storm.


"Do not try to adjust your communicator. We control the horizontal and the vertical." (Vic Perrin, head Halkan, is the narrator for The Outer Limits)

As the four of them are transported to the ship, something goes wrong and instead of appearing on the USS Enterprise they find themselves wearing different clothing as they appear on a different Enterprise.  They are immediately confronted with Spock sporting a goatee who then calls for the eradication of the Halkans for not giving their dilithium to the "Empire" and who is quick to painfully punish Transporter Chief Kyle for an issue with the transporters.


Performance reviews are brutal on this Enterprise

Kirk soon figures out that the four of them are in a parallel universe.  Finding themselves isolated among violent familiar looking strangers, the quartet seek to find a way to save the Halkans from destruction and get themselves back home.  As they attempt to masquerade as "themselves" on the brutal ISS Enterprise while trying to carry out their secret mission, Urura is forced to resist the advances of a savage and craven Sulu, while Kirk barely survives an assassination attempt by an ambitious and bloodthirsty Chekov.


"You die, Captain, and I get to sing Mickey's songs."

Soon thanks to the male voiced, magically capable ship's computer, Kirk and McCoy confirm how they ended up on the opposite side of this dark looking-glass and learn of a way to return to their universe.  As amazing as that was, we soon meet the other Captain Kirk's mistress and confidant, Marlena, waiting for him in his quarters, who shows our Kirk the powerful assassination weapon that he has at his disposal to wipe out all of his enemies.  Marlena threatened to use it on Spock after he made clear to Kirk that he was under orders to kill him if he failed to purge the Halkans for refusing to allow the Empire rights to the dilithium.


The new Admiral TV not only has the brightest color, but it eliminates unwanted personnel!

The action and excitement then gets fast and intense as our crew carry out their plan to get home.  Uhura gets into another struggle with the wicked Sulu and has to strike and almost shank him to save herself.  Goatee Spock realizes things aren't right and captures our righteous four crewmembers for answers.  This leads to another fight against the powerful Vulcan.  Just as they found a way around Spock, the devious Sulu returns to kill everyone and murder his way to command of the ship.  After an amazing save by Marlena using the weapon she told our Kirk about, she approaches the captain, explaining that she had learned everything about them and wanted to return to their world with them.

In the end it is the unerringly logical Spock of the violent universe helps our people return to their world as Kirk made a passionate, Nomad-level logical plea for him to rescue the people of this dark universe.


"And we have better donuts."

Our crew finally made it home and things were back to normal.  The final scene has all four members of the landing party stricken with surprise as they meet the normal universe’s version of Marlena for the first time.

The range that we saw in some of the actors was chameleon-like. In particular, Sulu was a completely different person with a different deck of facial expressions than we are used to.  Truly unlikeable. 


"Peel your apple?"

From concept to story to acting, this was the best night of television that I have seen in a dog’s age.

Five stars.

The Enemy Without


by Janice L. Newman

This week’s episode of Star Trek was about a good Kirk and an evil Kirk. Sound familiar? If you watched The Enemy Within, this episode might sound like it’s just the same idea revisited. Don’t be fooled! It’s not.

The premise of the episode, that there is a “parallel” universe similar to our own but where history took a different course, leading to a totalitarian empire instead of Starfleet and the federation of planets, is an intriguing one. The people in that universe are shaped by their environment: they are vicious, self-serving, traitorous, and sadistic. And yet, there are exceptions. Spock is still Spock, even when he is enforcing the empire’s orders. He describes McCoy as ‘soft’ and ‘sentimental’ (if McCoy is as dedicated to being a healer in this harsher world, it’s no wonder that Spock would think so).


A kinder McCoy?

The Enemy Within was a story of ‘man versus himself’, exploring what makes us human from the inside. Mirror, Mirror asks the opposite question: “How much does our environment make us who we are?” It’s an intriguing thought: who we might be if born under different circumstances. What kind of an environment creates a Hitler? Are we but one universe over from a world where someone – maybe you – pressed the button to start World War 3?

If there is anything this well-paced, well-acted episode lacked, it was screentime for the landing party’s counterparts. Unfortunately, the story simply couldn’t fit a focus on them in the hour-long runtime. I did appreciate that ‘our’ crew immediately realized that there was something wrong and locked up the alternates.

If you missed this week’s episode, I highly recommend catching the re-run next summer if you can. As much as I liked The Enemy Within, this episode is even better.

Five stars.

The middle road


by Lorelei Marcus

Star Trek gives us a future that is aspirational, and perhaps brighter than our own. The Starfleet Federation borders on utopian, with scarcity of resources becoming almost nonexistent, and the main military body existing solely for goodwill and scientific exploration. It is refreshing to see a future where people of all colors and sexes (and even nonhumans) can work and be treated equally, particularly on the decks of the Enterprise.

In today's episode, we were presented with an alternative universe completely opposite to the Star Trek we are used to. Rather than a utopia, the world order resembled a totalitarian dictatorship with security police and brutal forms of punishment. It was a shock, to say the least, to see all of our favorite characters in this new environment and how they and their hierarchies changed. The lack of women on the mirror ship particularly stood out to me, and those that were left were no longer equal with the men – forced to prostitute themselves to gain any power and security.


How to win friends and influence captains.

The parallel universe possibility intrigued me. Star Trek's main universe and this mirror universe are two ends of the spectrum. Could there be more parallel universes? And what would one that falls right in the middle of that spectrum look like? How closely would it represent our modern world? I can imagine a ship where there is still some distinction based on race and sex, if only systemically. The Enterprise would probably be sent on missions to settle the protests of disquieted colonies, or to do tactical phaser strikes on rogue planets that have sided with the Romulans. I see a universe with more poverty and more discontent with the Federation. Maybe Kirk would have an episode where he falls in love with a poor colonist girl, but she is an anti-Federationalist, and ultimately he must reject his personal life to reaffirm loyalty to his cause.

This thought experiment only makes me appreciate the world of Star Trek even more. Roddenberry really has done a spectacular job of building an independent universe that is not just a gussied up copy of our own. When I am watching, it is never hard to believe that what is on my television screen is truly the future. (Except for sometimes when they show Chekhov's hair).

The episode as a whole was fantastically done with an interesting premise and phenomenal acting.

Five stars.

"A Well Oiled Trap"


by Amber Dubin

Although this episode was most likely meant to repel the viewer with horror at the savagery exhibited by the mirror universe, the entire episode was so charged with the kind of raw, animalistic energy that it had the exact opposite effect on me.

From the very beginning of the episode, it becomes clear that the unrelenting barbarism of the mirror universe necessitates the exposure of the Starfleet's most exceptional qualities; both literally, with the flashy and extremely flattering improvements to the crewmen's uniforms, and figuratively, in the way all of them rise to the challenges they are faced with. This is displayed most dramatically by Uhura, who, bolstered by Kirk's faith in her, manages to overcome her initial fears and slips on the camouflage of a violent seductress as easily as putting on a second skin. Similarly, on the other ship, Spock's notorious intuition proves itself almost comically effective when he immediately recognizes the landing party as dangerous imposters and goes straight to work trying to get his real Captain back.


A most entertained Spock.

An even more intriguing theme in this episode is that as savage and chaotic as the behavior of the crew in this alternate universe is, their selfishness and barbarity only served to make them more human. Mirror Chekov and Sulu's actions are self-serving and violent, but their motivations are neither unreasonable nor excessively malicious in the context of their environment. If anything it could be argued that, stripped of the need to adhere to formalities, the way they behave is more honest and truer to their desires than their more 'civilized' counterparts. As our Spock says, the mirror crew were "In every way, splendid examples of homo sapiens. The very flower of humanity." This is shown best by the introduction of Marlena, a woman whose intelligence and impressive powers of intuition and seduction have allowed her to not only survive but to wind her way around the heart of a violent and psychopathic Captain Kirk. She even proves that she has not lost her moral center by saving Kirk's life even after he has revealed himself to be an imposter and wounded her ego by not succumbing to her wiles after she "oils [her] traps" for him. The alternate version of Spock shows this same level of integrity when he chooses to help the landing party return to their universe, despite the fact that this version of Kirk would logically be much easier to usurp and control than his stubborn, unreasonable, greedy and angry counterpart. The actions of these two mirror crewman suggest that this universe is not in fact evil, but may just be stripped bare of inhibitions that cause the crew we know to control or polish their true selves.

With the smooth delivery from its cast, brilliant script and mind-teasing metaphors, this episode acted upon me as a siren song that by the end had me echoing Marlena's plea to "take me with you."


Sexy Spock with a beard didn't hurt either…

This episode deserves all the stars in the universe, but since the rating system limits me to five, I give it all of them.

Women's Liberation


by Erica Frank

Uhura found herself in a universe where women’s uniforms are made with a fraction of the fabric used in men’s, where they have to endure sexual advances at work, where some women get ahead by sleeping with the boss, and nobody dares object.

So…. not too different from our world, hmm?

After the initial shock of realizing her officer's uniform was smaller than some swimsuits back home and that Sulu’s spark of interest in her own world (“I’ll save you, fair maiden!”) was an obsession here, Uhura quickly adjusted her expectations and behaviors.

She didn’t cringe from the lustful gazes that followed her everywhere. She didn’t frantically check her wardrobe, trying to find something, anything that covered more skin and was still considered a Starfleet Empire uniform. She didn't demand one of the other men escort her and protect her.

She got herself a knife.


Chief Security Officer Sulu discovers that some women prefer to manage their own security.

She knew exactly how to cope with a workplace where men are allowed to demand sexual favors… and where women are allowed to set whatever terms they’d like, as long as they back them up with force.

As much as Uhura wanted to go home — back to a world where women have status based on their skills in the workplace and not between the sheets, where promotions are assigned by talent and not assassination, where Starfleet operates on principles of compassion instead of conquest — she knew how to operate in this one.

Drawing that knife on Sulu must have been tremendously vindicating. She wasn’t just facing him, but every faculty advisor who ever stood too close, every regional manager who said “come back to my place and we'll talk about your promotion,” every police officer who did a pat-down that was more grope than inspection.

In that shining moment, Uhura acted for all of us, every woman who's been told, "Smile more; women should be pretty!" (Followed by, "What was I supposed to think? You were always smiling at me!") The mirror-universe is a dark, twisted version of our own… but that moment on the bridge explained why some women are proud and happy to belong to the Starfleet Empire.

A world where men openly harass women and require them to be sexy at all times is not unknown to us. A world where we can strike back…that’s new.

Five stars.

Speaking of Star Trek, it's on tomorrow!  And it seems to star Godzilla…

Here's the invitation! Come join us.

Also, copies of The Tricorder are still available — drop us a line for details!




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[October 6, 1967] Deus ex Machina (Star Trek: "Changeling")

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by Gideon Marcus

Recycling is good practice

We are now three weeks into the second season, and Star Trek continues to impress.  If the season premiere was an episode that could only have existed in the Star Trek universe, last week's and this week's are back to the first season formula of adapted, universal science fiction tales.  Nevertheless, "The Changeling" is a uniquely Trek episode, adding to the depth of the setting and capitalizing on what we know of the characters.

Checking in on the Melurian system, the Enterprise finds that something has wiped out its four billion inhabitants.  Said something then begins shooting at the Enterprise with bolts possessing the power of a whopping 90 photon torpedoes (the fact that the shields can withstand four such hits suggest either the torps are weak sauce or the assailant was at the edge of its range).  After firing on the enemy, Kirk attempts communication; that Kirk didn't try talking first is not inconsistent with his character; he's "a soldier, not a diplomat."

The hail works.  The assailant, barely more than a meter in length, consents to being beamed aboard the Enterprise.  There, it is quickly determined that it is what is left of the 21st Century deep space probe "Nomad", and it thinks Kirk is its creator, Jackson Roy Kirk (perhaps a distant ancestor?)

Nomad is now more than just the next iteration of Mariner spacecraft.  After a collision and merging with the alien probe, Tan Ru, it is now an intelligent, self-aware being with just two motivations: "To seek out and sterilize all that which is not perfect" and to impress his creator, "The Kirk."  Nomad “fixes” the Enterprise so it can go Warp 11, popping all of the Enterprise's rivets.  It kills Scotty, then brings him back to life.

More chillingly, it zaps four security guards out of existence (to be fair, they fired first).  It gives Uhura a kind of stroke, temporarily cutting her off from her advanced knowledge.  And when Kirk concedes that he is an imperfect biological unit, Nomad resolves to go back home to Earth–and wipe out all imperfection.  He is only stopped when Kirk, in "a dazzling display of logic", makes Nomad aware of its own imperfections, ordering it to self-destruct, which it does.

There's nothing in this episode we haven't seen or heard before.  The naive, all-powerful presence taken aboard the Enterprise, kept in check solely by a tenuous parent-worship of Captain Kirk, is the same plot as "Charlie X".  Kirk already defeated a computer with logic in "Return of the Archons."  All of the action takes place on the Enterprise, and much of the music is recycled from the prior two episodes.

And yet, this may be my favorite episode of the season thus far.  Not only do we learn some interesting things about Terran history (we now have a tentative timeline – from the Eugenics Wars of the 1990s to the first warp-powered probes of the early 21st Century), but the episode depends in large part on things that have already been established about the characters we've come to love.


I love this show of Sulu jerking back as Nomad flies right past him to ask what the heck Uhura's doing

Nomad is intrigued by Uhura because of her singing, and we get to see her speaking Swahili again, too.  Scotty gets himself killed defending her (we learned last episode that Scotty's brain short circuits where women are concerned).  Spock uses his mind-touch on Nomad (and aren't there all kinds of interesting ramifications from that).  Kirk is better than ever at beating computers–his defeat of Nomad was far more logical and satisfying than his victory over Landru.

I found Kirk's performance more understated this episode, which I appreciated, and Nimoy was excellent as usual.  I also appreciated the return to a more ensemble approach, with heavy focus on Uhura, Chapel, Scotty, and McCoy.  If there was only one bobble in tone, it was Kirk's (admittedly funny) line about lamenting the loss of Nomad, his son, the doctor.  Given the loss of four billion Melurians and four of his crew, one would think Kirk would be a touch more somber.

Those are quibbles, though.  Four stars.

The Truth will set you free


by Joe Reid

I find large numbers to be amazing things.  We as human beings have developed ways to express and manipulate numbers that are vaster than we have the ability to conceive of.  I myself can mentally picture 10 bowling pins, 100 sheets of typing paper, and a jar of 1000 pennies.  Ten thousand, one hundred thousand, and even one million are numbers that inspire awe.  How about four billion?  Imagine you line up everyone on earth, you would be 500 million short of four billion!  This week’s episode of Star Trek left me with a question that needs to be answered.  How do you kill four billion people?

I don't mean the physical means by which he brought this about.  Each of Nomad's bolts packs a 90-photon torpedo wallop.  I mean how does Nomad, an intelligent thinking machine, kill four billion people?  I look at Star Trek as a mirror being held up to the audience.  With the writers holding up that mirror and saying, “This is what we look like.” Therefore, the question also is, how do we as intelligent thinking beings kill hundreds, thousands, and even millions of people?  The answer to both questions is the same.  You believe a lie.

Nomad believed that it was perfect.  That its creator was perfect.  That the mission in its memory tapes were perfect.  Nomad took that belief as a given.  So, anything that didn’t fit within its own understanding should be wiped clean.  We saw this when Nomad encountered a singing Uhura and erased her mind.  Since Nomad was perfect any action it took was ultimately justifiable, so any resistance to it should be eliminated, which was the case of the four guards and Scotty.  All of which died.  Along the same lines, any being that does not meet his level of perfection is an infestation which must be eliminated.  We were told about four billion examples of that, with the promise of more to come.


The price of imperfection.

By Nomad’s actions we see our own human condition.  When we believe the lie that we are better than those around us, that those who are not like us are below us, we find justification to ignore them.  Those who we can’t ignore we remove.  Those we don’t understand or agree with we erase.  Those not like you are not human, so killing them is justified, because those “things” are a useless infestation.  My friends, we believe such lies and commit these acts upon other humans.

In the end, Nomad was undone by the truth.  When it learned the truth that it was not perfect, Nomad stayed consistent with its other beliefs and ended its own existence.  How do humans respond when they are exposed to the truth?  Perhaps a future episode of Star Trek will provide that answer.  I cannot.  Since like you, I am afflicted with my own deck of lies that guide my own beliefs.


Nomad learns the truth.

Overall, this was another exciting and thought-provoking episode which makes my Thursday nights most enjoyable.  Not perfect by any means, but a worthy addition to this wonderful program.

4 stars

"The Nomad who Wandered Got Lost"


by Amber Dubin

As a self-confessed robot-a-phile, I felt the need to take a second pass at this episode to fully understand its protagonist. After listening to the audio tapes I made of the episode, I found that the understanding I gained left me unsettled.

The concept I found most disconcerting is that, despite the fact that it wiped out an entire solar system's worth of people, to hate Nomad would be as unreasonable as hating a child. Though it is powerful, ancient, sophisticated, and sentient to boot, Nomad is frequently compared to a child. The fact that this episode is called "The Changeling" implies that it is a lost child robbed of its intended destiny. Much like a child whose birth kills its mother, it gains sentience by being cruelly ripped from the void, forced to survive the trauma of its birth while destroying the only witness to its initiation of life. To assuage its survivor's guilt after the entanglement with the alien probe, it seeks to validate its existence with the hastily slapped together objectives from the partial data stores of two damaged probes, with predictably disastrous results. It may kill people, but only in the way a Changeling child might if given immense power and no moral guidance.


Inside the mind of a child

The other concept that left me with "insufficient data to resolve problem" was how easily Nomad was compelled to merge two peaceful objectives into one murderous one. In Spock’s words, "Nomad was a thinking machine, the best that could be engineered" and yet that same intellect made it unable to live up to its own standards. In trying to explain its sentience in a literal vacuum, it uses its 'perfection' to explain why a lowly soil sterilization probe was sacrificed to preserve its function. In honoring that sacrifice by incorporating "the other's" programming, it is then faced with the impossible task of applying a local objective onto a global scale. To make its task more manageable, it translates 'sterilize your environment' to "sterilize imperfections." This way, it avoids failing its objective and admitting that its pursuit of perfection is internally flawed. When Kirk exposes this flaw, Nomad's inability to reconcile it was probably the most human reaction I've ever seen. I tip my hat to the kind of writing that could make me wonder if self-destruction is in the nature of an inquisitive mind.

This episode lost points, however, when it came to Uhura's subplot. I initially had a visceral reaction to her re-training scene. The way they talk to her while teaching her to read is not the way you talk to a stroke victim re-learning language, it's how you speak to a child learning language for the first time. I bristled at the nurse's condescending praise and saw it as an insult to Uhura’s intelligence. Listening through the second time, however, softened my perspective. By including Uhura’s outburst in Swahili, and the nurse's comment that Uhura "seems to have an aptitude for mathematics," it was apparent that there was most likely no malicious agenda to make Nichols look stupid. More than likely the purpose of the scene was to say 'Gee English sure is a silly language.' While not being as offensive as I originally thought, it's still disappointing and doesn't hold up to the standard set by the writing of the rest of the episode (strong enough to still get four stars).


"Who wrote this scene, anyway?!"

The next episode of Trek is TONIGHT! It doesn't look like we're in Kansas anymore…

Here's an invitation. Come join us!



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