Category Archives: TV

Science fiction and fantasy on television

[May 10, 1967] Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee (The Green Hornet)


by Janice L. Newman

In January of 1966, a new TV show hit the airwaves. An adaptation of the comic book, “Batman”, with its catchy theme, over-the-top villains, and deadpan delivery by the titular character, was an instant camp hit. The colorful costumes probably didn’t hurt either, especially as networks started to make the switch to a color line up and those who could afford it began purchasing color TVs to see it.


The dynamic duo.

Batman landed with a boom, perhaps because adults found it amusing while young children were riveted by the serial-style storytelling. But in the end, there are only so many times one can hear variations of “Holy _______ Batman!” or see the dynamic duo tied up in yet another utterly ridiculous death trap, at least if one is over the age of six.

Thus, when The Green Hornet, produced by the same team, began to be broadcast in September 1966 on the same network and the same night as Batman, I didn’t pay much attention at first. It wasn’t until my husband and daughter, more dedicated fans of the boob tube than I, told me, “No, the show is actually worth watching!” that I decided to give it a chance. And you know what? They were right!

The Green Hornet follows the adventures of millionaire newspaper owner Britt Reid (played by Van Williams), who by night fights crime under the pseudonym ‘The Green Hornet’ along with his loyal sidekick, ‘Kato’.

So far the setup seems pretty similar to Batman, no?

No!

The Green Hornet has a clever twist: everyone (both the public and the denizens of the criminal world) believe that the Hornet is a bad guy. Only Britt’s secretary and the district attorney know his secret identity and the fact that he’s not a criminal.


Kato and Hornet.

This leads to lots of smart setups and interactions. When the Hornet bursts into a criminal hideout, the miscreants don’t immediately try to shoot him or tie him up (or whatever they do with Batman) because he’s one of them. He’s not particularly popular, usually demanding ‘a cut of the take’ or some similar price, but the criminals also generally do him the courtesy of letting him in on their plans and then waiting until he’s gone to double-cross him or try to shoot him in the back.

Unlike Batman, where Commissioner Gordon seems to call Batman for every minor emergency (“I forgot my lunch! Call the Caped Crusader!”) the Hornet’s relationship with the police is far more complicated for obvious reasons. This leads to situations where the Hornet has to balance his relationship with the criminals he’s trying to bring down while at the same time escaping from the police. It makes him feel more like a ‘lone-wolf’ or a true anti-hero than Batman.


District Attorney Scanlon pays the Hornet team a visit.

Britt’s relationship with his sidekick, played by young martial arts expert Bruce Lee, is also a joy. Unlike Batman’s stilted attempts to mentor Robin and Robin’s wide-eyed ‘golly gee’ attitude, the Hornet and Kato feel like true partners. Kato may be his servant in the daytime and his driver at night, but when they track down the bad guys and jump out and fight, the two of them work together side by side. Lee is poetry in motion, so much fun to watch and easily outclassing the criminals, (Five thugs versus Kato? The poor guys are hopelessly outnumbered!) It’s also refreshing to have an Asian man in a positive superhero role, especially with the ‘Yellow Peril’ stories that have been popular since the pulps so often casting Asian people as villains.


Kato–poetry in motion.

The biggest difference between The Green Hornet and Batman, though, is that The Green Hornet is smart. I don’t just mean that Britt Reid is smart, I mean that the show is smartly-written, with plots that have more complexity than anything on Batman despite the fact that The Green Hornet doesn’t sprawl across multiple episodes (with one rare exception), instead wrapping each episode up neatly, packing a surprising amount of plot into its half-hour-minus-commercials runtime.

It’s still a comic book show, and as such, has stories that skate close to being over-the-top. But unlike Batman, which gaily flings itself over that edge with abandon and seems to live by the motto, “the campier the better”, Hornet does its darndest to stay on just this side of plausibility. In the sole 2-parter, for example, aliens invade…but from the start it’s clear that Britt doesn’t buy that the aliens are real, and indeed he not only quickly discovers that they are actually humans, but identifies the ringleader Dr. Mabuse (whom you may recognize from Cora Buhlert's articles)!


Britt's not buying what Mabuse is selling.

Yet as a comic book show, The Green Hornet doesn’t hesitate to adopt some of the ‘cooler’ aspects of comic books, especially the Hornet’s secret lair, with fun hidden entrances and exits, and a couple of nifty gadgets he carries with him. Then there’s the vehicle that gets the two of them around. Unlike the gaudy Batmobile, “The Black Beauty” is a sleek custom Imperial decked out with all sorts of fun weapons.


The Black Beauty can take on the Batmobile any day–and it doesn't litter the streets with parachutes!

In short, The Green Hornet is a comic book show for grown ups. The themes are more sophisticated, the plots are more intricate, the stories are more realistic, but it doesn’t lose the ‘fun’ aspects of what make comic books enjoyable for adults as well as children. If you have ever enjoyed a superhero comic, or if you’re just tired of seeing Batman and Robin getting tied up and menaced by giant tarantulas, why not give The Green Hornet a try? You’ll be glad you did!





[April 24, 1967] You Look Familiar (Doctor Who: The Faceless Ones, Part One)


By Jessica Holmes

Another month of Doctor Who, and this time we’ve got the first half of a rather good little mystery thriller. This is part one of The Faceless Ones, by David Ellis and Malcolm Hulke.

EPISODE ONE

Materialising on the runway of Gatwick Airport in modern-day London, it’s not long before the Doctor and company get themselves into trouble. For once, it’s not bug-eyed space monsters that pose the immediate threat– it’s the coppers! The group split up and hide, and that’s when things take a turn for the deadly. In the hangar for a company called Chameleon Tours (this will later prove to be quite fitting) Polly witnesses the murder of a policeman by an airline pilot!

She flees to tell the Doctor and Jamie what she’s seen.  Meanwhile the killer, Spencer (Victor Winding) confers with an accomplice, Captain Blade (Donald Pickering). Upon investigating the body, the Doctor discovers that the man was electrocuted, inferring that the murder weapon, and therefore the murderer, was not from our world. There’s something very dodgy going on at this airport, that’s for sure.

On their way to report the crime, the Doctor and Jamie prove to be extremely observant (not) when they fail to notice Blade kidnapping Polly from right behind them. When they eventually realise she’s missing, they don’t search long enough to find her. A bit blase, don’t you think? There’s a murderer on the loose! It does annoy me a bit when characters have to leave their brains behind to allow the plot to progress.

Giving up, they try to report the killing to the airport authorities, but they can’t even get inside the terminal from where they are without a passport. That’s bureaucracy for you. However, airport security would very much like to talk to them about the police box that just turned up on the runway. Priorities!


I don't think I've ever seen someone look so infuriatingly smug.

And what of Ben? Honestly, not much. He’s just sort of lagging behind everyone else, none the wiser as to what’s going on. We'll ignore him until he does something interesting.

Following a lengthy interrogation, the Doctor manages to persuade the airport Commandant (Colin Gordon) to come and see the dead body for himself. By the time they reach the hangar however it seems that Blade and Spencer have cleaned up after themselves.

After they’re gone, the pilots bring someone out of the hangar. Whoever they are, they don’t seem very well, and it looks like they’ve got quite a painful skin condition.

In case you’re wondering, it’s not Polly. No, she’s just arrived at the gate, fresh off the plane from Zurich. And her name’s Michelle now. And she’s Swiss.

Oh, and she hasn’t the faintest idea who the Doctor is.

Meanwhile the pilots bring their afflicted friend to the airport medical bay…and it doesn’t look like the poor fellow has a skin condition, after all.

Whatever he is… he’s not human. Generally speaking, humans have faces.

The first episode kicks off a rather intriguing little mystery. By the end I still had no idea what was going on, but I was enjoying the ride all the same.


I suddenly have a craving for pizza.

EPISODE TWO

Now that they look like total liars, the Doctor and Jamie make a run for it when the Commandant calls the police.

While they’re on the run from the law, the pilots and a nurse attend to the faceless alien. They’ve apparently also kidnapped a gentleman from the airport staff, Meadows (George Selway), and have him tied down to a bed. They need him. Rather, they need his face. The nurse attaches a bunch of equipment to the pair of them, and the alien transforms, becoming a perfect copy of Meadows—even sharing his memories. The effect is similar to the one used to transform Hartnell into Troughton, though without the flash of light to mask the transition.


This is why I make exfoliation a regular part of my skincare routine.

Ben catches up to the Doctor and Jamie as the Doctor begins to wonder if Polly is really Polly. ‘Michelle’ as she now calls herself is working for Chameleon Tours. She adamantly denies remembering anything about the hangar, or anyone being killed there. However, the Doctor hadn’t even mentioned the murder. She knows more than she’s letting on.

The men confer, and the Doctor decides to try again to get the Commandant to listen to him, while Ben investigates the hangar and Jamie keeps an eye on Polly. I wouldn’t send a friend of mine to poke around a murder scene with the killer still at large, but what do I know?

Samantha's a smart lass, but she has dreadful taste in hats.

While Jamie’s hanging around the airport terminal being generally stunned by the modern world, a young woman comes to the Chameleon Tours desk. The woman, Samantha (Pauline Collins) is worried about her brother, who went on a Chameleon Tours holiday and never came back. Overhearing this, Jamie offers to help her.

Ben finds the real Polly inside a packing case, apparently catatonic. He immediately calls the commandant on a conveniently located telephone, hoping to be able to contact the Doctor.

Unfortunately the Doctor has already left the Commandant’s office, after the Commandant called the police on him. Who’d have ever seen that coming?

He meets back up with Jamie, and finds that ‘Polly’ left a short time ago. Inside her office, they find a monitor connected to a camera in the hangar, showing Ben—and someone sneaking up behind him. Unable to alert Ben to the danger, the Doctor can only watch as some sort of device freezes him.

Rushing to the hangar, the Doctor finds no sign of Ben, but he does find the strange weapon. There’s no sign of Polly, either. See, this is why you don’t send people to investigate crime scenes alone.

He finds the real Meadows, but before he can let him out of the crate, a voice calls from the other room, pleading for help. The Doctor naturally rushes in, only for the doors and windows to seal shut. The air vents begin to belch some sort of freezing gas…

The plot thickens, and things are getting a bit clearer– and more sinister. I’m starting to really like this story. It’s not over-reliant on flashy sets or effects, mostly playing out like a mystery. This episode also introduces Inspector Crossland (Bernard Kay, who has popped up in a few serials thus far), who has come looking for his murdered colleague. He doesn’t have much to do yet. Well, other than walk around and ask for information the audience already knows, but I’m sure he’ll become more important later.

EPISODE THREE

The Doctor pretends to collapse, tricking Spencer into emerging from a hidden room to check on him, at which point the Doctor zaps him with the freezing device and makes good his escape. Later, Blade orders Spencer to kill the Doctor to atone for his incompetence.

The Doctor meets back up with Jamie, who has made the acquaintance of the Inspector, who is very interested in what the Doctor has to say. The pair return to the Commandant, and the Doctor lays out his theory of what’s going on: Chameleon Tours is a front for a kidnapping operation, and people are being abducted and replaced by doppelgangers from another world. To be fair, I wouldn’t believe him, either.

However, the Doctor now has the freezing device, which he tries to use on the fake-Meadows in air traffic control. The impostor runs for it, but not before the Doctor succeeds in turning his teacup to ice. Now nobody can deny that this weapon isn't like any we have on Earth.

Samantha and Jamie, meanwhile, have been told to stay put. As you might expect,  they disobey the moment the Doctor turns his back. Samantha talks Jamie into snooping around the hangar with her, and they soon find a stack of pre-written and stamped postcards, realising that Chameleon Tours are forging postcards from their passengers to disguise the fact that they’ve vanished into the ether.

The pair bring this evidence to the Commandant, who finally agrees to allow the Doctor free rein to investigate the matter.

Meanwhile, fake-Meadows reports to Spencer that the Doctor is suspicious of him. Spencer provides him with a device to smuggle onto the Doctor’s person, which will take care of him once and for all. For some reason, the Doctor doesn’t recognise him when he returns to the office. Maybe he’s bad with faces. After all, he never noticed that the Inspector is a dead-ringer for a mediaeval Sultan and a future rebel. Fake-Meadows has no trouble sticking the device to the Doctor’s back, like a more deadly version of a ‘kick-me’ note.

Oblivious to the danger, the Doctor and Jamie return to the hangar and begin to search for the hidden room Spencer emerged from earlier.

The Inspector boards the Chameleon Tours aeroplane in order to talk to Captain Blade, following him into the cockpit, where Blade holds him at gunpoint. There also seems to be a lack of the expected equipment within the cockpit, hinting that this aeroplane is not quite what it seems.

The Doctor and Jamie find monitors in the hidden room showing the medical bay. They're about to investigate when Spencer remotely activates the device on the Doctor’s back, causing him to collapse in severe pain.

And on the aeroplane, the situation only gets worse. Once the plane reaches cruising altitude, Blade shows the Inspector the secret of Chameleon Tours; the passengers have all vanished!

Final Thoughts

So far, this is shaping up to be a good story! The twists and turns are building nicely, without throwing too many at the viewer at once.

I like Samantha, and I’m wondering if the writers are lining her up to join the crew of the TARDIS. She’s got a smart head on her shoulders and a bucketload of determination, to boot. The regional dialect (she's from Liverpool, though her accent is quite mild) is a bonus in my book, too. I believe I've mentioned that I appreciate it when the BBC doesn't force all its actors to speak in RP.

Of course, if she joins the crew it might start getting crowded. I wonder if there might be a departure on the cards soon? It would make sense, as we’re back in Ben and Polly’s time, and they have been travelling with the Doctor for a little while now. Oh, but I like Ben and Polly! Perhaps I’m wrong—maybe they’ll stick around for a little while yet. This could be a red herring. We’ll just have to wait and see!




[April 20, 1967] End of the Road (Star Trek: "Operation: Annihilate!")

Operation: Summarize!


by Gideon Marcus

The Enterprise is checking upon the farflung colony of Deneva, which hasn't sent out a message in a year.  One million souls are thus feared for. Captain Kirk has a personal reason to be worried–his brother and his family reside on this planet.


Starfleet's finest head for an interview at TRW.

Their fears are soon realized.  Beaming down to the planet, Kirk and co. determine that the entire population has been taken over by parasitic pancakes, who use pain to ensure their hosts to their bidding.  They have apparently been waiting for the day a starship came a-calling, so that they could continue their rampage through the universe (why they didn't use the ship they came in is never explained…) While investigating the planet's surface (again, only the most expendable personnel are sent, including Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty), Mr. Spock is infected by one of the alien invaders.


"Ooo!  That smarts!"

Kirk's brother, Sam, is dead, and his sister-in-law, Aurelian, taken aboard the Enterprise for treatment, soon perishes.  But Kirk's nephew, the Denevan populace, and Spock may yet be saved.  McCoy and the scientists in the Enterprise's 14 science labs throw the book at a monstrous specimen that Spock secures from the planet.  No dice.  No amount of radiation, heat, or anything else will destroy these critters (or at least, nothing that will destroy them and not also the host.)

There is a clue, however.  One Denevan took a shuttlecraft into the sun.  Before he burned up, he announced that he was "free" of the alien.  This is the clue Kirk needs (and everyone else misses).  Apparently McCoy only thought to use infrared (heat) and very high energy radiation (microwaves and X-Rays) since the captain deduces that visible light is the key to killing the beings.

Spock volunteers to enter a light chamber and be subjected to a zillion candles of light.  It kills his parasite, but also leaves him quite blind.  Turns out they didn't need to use the whole spectrum of visible light.  Only the invisible spectrum of invisible light.

Yes, I was confused, too.


"We've tried everything!  Heat!  Radiation!"  "What about… light?"  "Yes, Jim.  I said we tried radiation.  You think we're stupid?"

Turns out the key wavelength is ultraviolet light.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's generally lumped in with "radiation", but perhaps McCoy was being extremely narrow in his definition.  Anyway, Kirk dumps a bunch of "tri-magnesite" ultraviolet beacons in orbit around Deneva and sets them off.  The radiation (that isn't radiation) is so intense that it even kills the parasites that are indoors, but doesn't manage to bake the colonists (maybe the only ones who survived were Black…)

Anyway, there is a lot to enjoy about the episode, from Nimoy's performance (see below) to the absolutely stunning setting (the TRW campus, from which were monitored the space probes of Pioneers 0, 1, 2 and 5, Explorer 6, and the Orbiting Geophysical Observatories).

But the science is ridiculous, even for television.  Really Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea stuff.  The title is one of the least inspired of the series, too.

It's a bit of a shame that this is the episode that concludes the first season.  Nevertheless, the strength of the others we've seen this season suggests we're in for a great time come fall.  And in any event, it's certainly not "The Alternative Factor".

Three and a half stars.


Operation: Indecision!


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Captain Kirk seemed to be of two – or more! – minds in "Operation: Annihilate!" His curiosity wars with his concern for his ship's safety early in the episode when the Denevan vessel hurls itself into the sun; his fear for his brother Sam and his sister-in-law Aurelean's safety on Deneva competes with his commitment to civility with his crew, leading him to snap at Lieutenant Uhura in a moment of uncharacteristic and uncaptainly unkindness. (To her credit, Uhura responds with complete professionalism and competence.)

But his deepest conflict becomes clear when Commander Spock and Kirk's nephew Peter become the prey of the fleshy flying flapjacks that served as this episode's villains. Kirk watches as Spock is consumed by pain, overwhelmed by it, then fiercely begins to resist it using his Vulcan training. This moment encapsulates the sweet tension that gives this episode its flavor:

Captain Kirk: "I need you, Spock, but we can't take any chances. We'll keep you confined for a while longer. If you can maintain control, we'll see. My nephew. If he regains consciousness, will he go through that?"
Dr McCoy: "Yes."
Kirk: "Help them. I don't care what it takes or costs. You've got to help them."
McCoy: "Jim, aren't you forgetting something? There are over a million colonists on that planet down there, just as much your responsibility. They need your help, too."


"I need you, Spock."

Though Kirk brings up his nephew's fate throughout the episode, it is his relationship with Spock – and his fear for his well being – that drives much of the action. This episode, more than many others, gives us language for that relationship from both Dr McCoy and Kirk himself: "affection," "best first officer in the fleet," "need," someone McCoy needs to "take care of." The look of devastation on Captain Kirk's face when he realizes that Spock might have been permanently injured was powerful, though it did make me wonder if Star Fleet can be so advanced if it has no clear accommodations for blind people. I would hope for more from the future.


"Who put this #$&@ table here?"

Like the other reviewers, I found the science in this episode silly; I kept getting hung-up on how the Ingrahamians were flying in the first place and whether we were supposed to see them as a devious hivemind or a reactive predator. But Kirk's conflict was delicious, the acting was great fun, and it made me check my TV Guide for when the next season starts. See you all back here again in September!

Three stars.


Operation: Genocide!


by Joe Reid

If there is anything that I learned from this week’s episode of Star Trek, it is that Vulcanians are strong and powerful life forms with amazing physical and mental gifts.  "Vulcans" on the other hand are the discount Woolworth's version of Vulcanian. I seem to remember that when Mr. Spock was a Vulcanian, he could read the mind of an alien lifeform, get to know that lifeform’s intentions and desires, and find a way to help it.  Remember just a few short weeks ago, on the episode, “Devil in the Dark ", where Spock saved a misunderstood creature from the humans that were going to exterminate them?  Now in “Operation: Annihilate!”, creatures, intelligent creatures no less, are no longer afforded the benefit of the doubt to be misunderstood.  They can only be annihilated.


Woolworth's – discount Vulcans available now…while supplies last!

Dear reader, please forgive my jeering of Spock.  As a character, I find him to be a standout and thoughtful character most of the time.  Apart from the limited nature of the abilities that he displayed in this episode, I normally find him compelling to watch.  The problem that I had with this episode was the handling of the creatures themselves.  The nameless, formless, flying, buzzing, lumps of Horta excrement, that conquered 3 planets and had the amazing power to control men and make them build ships.  This seems like an intelligent species that is after something.  I find myself truly wondering what it was.  “Operation: Annihilate!”, completely ignores that, just following along with the dictate presented by the title.

The episode starts out with a mystery.  Mass insanity is gripping entire populations on planets and jumping to other planets, and no one knows why.  The best sci-fi takes us on a journey of discovery, to find out the whys of whatever the writer has brought to us.  This week, we viewers start down a path and are presented with a creature that has more abilities than any that we have seen on the show thus far.  It is invisible to scanning.  As stated before, it flies, directs populations to do their bidding, and buzzes like a honeybee, for crying out loud.


"I suddenly have a craving for pancakes with honey syrup…"

Kirk and the others at one point of the episode suppose that this creature may be part of a larger organism that exists in a great beyond.  After being presented with so many proofs of intelligence, it is disappointing that the crew of the Enterprise, so intent on meeting new life forms, drives forward towards destruction over discovery.  Towards demonization of actions, over deconstruction of intent.  Towards annihilation over understanding.

This creature had the potential to be one of the, if not the most interesting and complex creatures that we could have witnessed in the cosmos.  Instead, these single celled marvels are treated like a disease in need of penicillin.  What a waste.  If only a proper Vulcanian were present this week, something could have been made from the unsolved mysteries left unexplored in this episode.

2 stars


Operation: Vulcanalia!


by Abigail Beaman

As it turns out, Vulcans are not just pointy-eared humanoids with very little variation to their anatomy compared to humans. We learn an awful lot about Spock's people from this latest episode. Now we did know a few things. One of the earliest examples is that Spock’s blood isn’t a red color, but instead green. This is due to Vulcans' blood being copper-based instead of iron-based like our human blood. But thanks to this episode, not only do we learn more about Vulcans, but we might have learned just how secretive Vulcans are about themselves with other races.


So much to this man…

In "Operation: Annihilate!", we discover that Vulcans in fact have two sets of eyelids, after Spock recovers from blindness caused by the light that kills an invasive alien parasite living inside him. Similar (I guess) to felines, Vulcans adapted these inner eyelids to protect their eyes from the harsh and unforgiving sun on the planet, Vulcan. This allows our first mate, Mister Spock to regain his eyesight after the exposure to 1,000,000 candles per square inch. Yet then an eyebrow may raise, as earlier in the episode when he first loses his sight, Bones blames himself. Bones is sure the damage is permanent and nothing could have saved Mister Spocks’ eyes. Bones not knowing that Mister Spock has two sets of eyelids initially really bugged me. Isn't he the ship's Chief Medical Officer? But maybe it's not his fault that Spock's internals are unknown to him. Maybe Vulcans keep their racial anatomy secret. That would explain why McCoy is so irritated all the time–his patient keeps holding vital information from him!


"I blame myself."  "I blame you, too!"

Now I’m not saying this episode was good. For the most part, I actually felt very unhappy that this is the episode season one had to end on (hopefully season two will continue on with good episodes like “The Devil in the Dark” or “Shore Leave”). I do in fact feel that the anatomy Daugherty comes up with within this episode is a cop-out to ensure a somewhat happy ending. [Note: Daugherty is the Director. Carabatsos is the writer–those darn credits flash by so fast! (ed)].

Yet something I would also like to point out is Leonard Nimoy’s acting of the stoic and computerized Mister Spock fighting the human emotion, pain. Throughout the episode, after Mister Spock is infected, he tries everything in his Vulcan power to deny the pain he is in. Leonard Nimoy really shows this struggle that Spock faces; his creeps rather than strides, his voice is harsh, and every once in a while, he seems to twitch in pain. It sent shivers down my spine. I was very enthralled by Leonard Nimoy (well at least more than usual) by his acting in this episode. It was probably one of, if not the only saving grace in this episode for me (well also Scotty about to shoot Spock; remind me next time when I wanna pick a fight with him).


"Freeze, Mr. Spock!"

This episode left me empty inside, and for that, I have to rate it pretty low.

Two and a half stars.


Operation: Copycat!


by Erica Frank

The aliens in "Operation: Annihilate!" are obviously inspired by Heinlein's classic, The Puppet Masters, but the differences are definitely for the worse. These aliens don't attach themselves to humans—they sting them once, injecting them with "tentacles" that spread throughout the nervous system. This allows them to control people through pain—pain so bad it can kill. It's unclear how the aliens coordinate their efforts and communicate with each other. (Looks like more evil telepathy. Sigh.) It's also unclear what the aliens themselves do after their planetary takeover, other than flutter around in shady spaces.

These aliens have been moving through planets, causing "mass insanity" and destruction for several hundred years. If the pain immediately killed people, they wouldn't last long enough to reach new worlds. So it seems only the ones who resist control are in danger, or they'd be like a virus that burns out its host before it has a chance to transfer.

Because of this, I doubt Peter—Kirk's nephew—was at risk of death. Rather, he'd likely succumb to the alien control. He'd wake up surrounded by strangers, only to be told his parents are dead. He might well give up fighting entirely; he'd have no reason to push through the pain. So it's unclear why Kirk needs to find an immediate solution.

This episode brings too many questions. While it's common for science fiction to leave possibilities for the reader or viewer to ponder, in this case, the potential answers often make no sense.


We're supposed to believe large tentacles like these are spread throughout the nervous system… without being visible through the skin? And that removing them wouldn't stop the pain? In that case, what's causing the pain?

Kirk should be able to just declare the planet off-limits, infected, and sabotage its space travel while bringing in a full scientific team. Or will the pain quickly kill people? …In which case, how did the aliens last long enough to get to new worlds, and how have they taken over only a handful of planets in several hundred years? Or are there dozens of others we don't know about?

If they haven't been going through dozens of planets, what have they been doing for those hundreds of years? Do infected humans eventually "hatch" into a swarm of flappy blob aliens that can infect new people? Or do the flappy-blob versions reproduce on their own, with the injected hosts eventually dying along with their tentacles? Do the injected people reproduce normally, and have alien-controlled babies? (Eew.) Or will each child need to be infected?

Regarding their destruction: If they stick to shaded areas, how will bombarding the planet with ultraviolet light reach them? Any of them that are inside buildings will be safe. (And in the meantime, the entire human populace will have very bad sunburns.)

Two stars. While the aliens were interesting and the underlying ideas were good (which makes sense; they were based on a terrific book), the plot itself was disjointed and incoherent. I was more intrigued by McCoy's frequent wardrobe changes than the story itself.



Summer reruns have begun!  Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for the pilot that sold the series: "Where No Man Has Gone Before!

Here's the invitation!



[April 12, 1967] We'll take Manhattan (Star Trek: "The City on the Edge of Forever")

Time, the subtle thief of youth


by Janice L. Newman

We’ve been watching Star Trek for almost a full season, now. We’ve seen some sublime episodes and at least one really terrible episode, but the overall quality has been high. “City on the Edge of Forever” is one of the best episodes we’ve seen yet.

The early part of the episode sets things up, with Sulu getting hurt and McCoy being called to the bridge to treat him. There’s a nice bit of banter between the doctor and Captain Kirk here, followed by a moment of horror when unexpected turbulence causes Dr. McCoy to accidentally inject himself with a drug that drives him mad. Kirk, Spock, and even Sulu have all had opportunities to do dramatic scenes where they’re half out of their minds due to drugs or other influences. It’s nice to now see DeForest Kelley given the opportunity to really let loose.


Sulu gets to smile, but McCoy gasps like nobody's business!

McCoy makes it down to the planet below and throws himself through an alien artifact that leads to the past. This is where the episode really begins, with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock quickly following him through the artifact’s archway to try to fix the timeline McCoy has broken.

Finding themselves in New York circa 1930, Kirk and Spock face many challenges: they stand out in their modern clothing, they have no money nor place to go nor anything to eat, and Spock is noticeably strange to the natives of this time – though probably not as strange as Kirk assumes. As hilarious as Kirk’s struggle to explain Spock’s ears may be, the theater existed long before the 1930s. I suspect most sane people would simply assume Mr. Spock was some sort of traveling player, possibly cast in the role of Mephistopheles.


"My friend, officer, is obviously the Prince of Darkness."

Be that as it may, the important thing is that Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are convinced that they stand out and must quickly blend in. Proving that he is indeed ‘a rat’ (as Ruth Berman noted in the latest issue of her 'zine, Dinky Bird), Kirk doesn’t hesitate to steal some convenient clothing, necessitating that they flee from a most inconvenient policeman.

They take refuge in the basement of a mission and meet a woman who will prove to be the crux of the time paradox: Edith Keeler. Edith, despite Kirk admitting that they stole their clothes and are on the run, is charmed enough by them to offer them help. She gets them a job, a place to stay, and food at the mission.

These basic problems solved, the difficulties facing the men out of time become more complex. Spock needs components that don’t exist or are incredibly expensive in order to determine what caused the time anomaly and broke their own timeline. There are plenty of great, teasing conversations between Kirk and Spock, where Kirk needles Spock and Spock ultimately rises to the challenge, despite the many hours of work it takes and the fact that he must work with equipment that he claims is hardly ahead of “stone knives and bearskins”.

Meanwhile, Kirk is growing closer to Edith Keeler. She’s a visionary who imagines a future where the power of the atom is harnessed and men will go to the stars. He’s a man from that very future. They make a lovely match…and a poignant one, when Spock determines that in order for their timeline to be saved, “Edith Keeler must die.”


Edith Keeler: Focal point of history

McCoy finally shows up, managing to just miss the captain and Mr. Spock when he’s taken in by Edith Keeler. Thankfully the drug wears off, leaving him sane again, though deeply confused. He has some nice exchanges with Edith, short conversations that nevertheless make them both even more likable. Their chemistry is almost as good as Edith’s and Kirk’s.

All the threads draw together when Kirk is planning on taking Edith out for a movie and she mentions McCoy. Kirk and Spock rush across the street back to the mission to meet their errant doctor in the doorway, McCoy joyful and relieved, Kirk and Spock fearful that the man might still be out of his mind. Turning, Kirk sees in horror that Edith is crossing the street after them, heedless of an approaching car. Kirk instinctively moves to save her but is stopped in place by Spock’s shout of warning. Horribly, Kirk must grab McCoy and hold him back to keep him from intervening.

“You deliberately stopped me, Jim. I could have saved her. Do you know what you just did?” McCoy demands.

And, in one of Trek's most memorable lines yet, Spock replies, “He knows, Doctor. He knows.”


Kirk knows.

The episode wraps up quickly after that, with the three men returning to the present day to find that their timeline has been repaired. In another memorable and surprisingly blue line, Kirk ends the episode with the words, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The best part of this episode was the emotional narrative, with the push-pull of the various characters’ motivations and needs causing real tension and tragedy. Kirk has kissed a lot of women throughout the various episodes so far, but I believed that his relationship with Edith Keeler, whirlwind though it was, was real and heartfelt. The ending was beautifully bittersweet.

Four stars.


One for the Birds


by a special guest

You know, when I heard there was going to be an episode of Star Trek by Harlan Ellison, I figured I was in for a treat.  After all, this is the fellow who gave us the brilliant "Demon with a Glass Hand" and "Soldier" on The Outer Limits (shoulda won the Hugo, by the way).  And this is Star Trek, fer chrissakes, the show that's supposed to finally bring good STF to the unwashed masses.

The teaser and the first act are complete messes.  We open up on the Enterprise being tossed about by "time ripples", whatever they are.  Mostly, it looks like a sub par episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Pot, what with endless camera jiggles and tottering extras.  Sparks fly from the helm since, in the future, no one's invented fuses.  The ship's doctor (who else could do it?) rushes to the bridge to administer Sulu some happy juice; at least Takei gets to show off that dreamy grin of his.  And then (for Pete's Sake), our Chief Medical Officer manages to jab himself with the whole vial of goof juice, sending him straight to paranoia-ville.  I guess they just don't make country doctors like they used to.

All the nonessential personnel, like Kirk, Spock, Scotty, and Uhura, beam down to Planet Glitterball to find their hopped-up Doc.  But he's too sneaky–he hides behind things!  Apparently rock walls block ship's sensors and tricorders and things.  We watch security teams walk right past the guy several times.  If I could roll my eyes any harder, I'd see the back of my skull.


"Och!  If only I could see over this rock!"

Kirk and Spock meet up with the giant, talking doughnut that plays Cinemascope films (which, to be fair, wasn't too bad an effect).  The wheels in Kirk's brains almost come off at the concept of time travel–apparently, he's forgotten he's already traveled back in time twice just in this season.  Then he proposes the most harebrained plan: go back in time a day to "stop the accident".  What does he plan to do when he meets himself?  This is Starfleet's finest?

McCoy breaks free of his security guards, though at least that's consistent–the Enterprise has the worst MPs in the universe as has been shown in, well, every goddam episode of this show.  Once in the past, Bones alters history, and suddenly the Enterprise ain't in orbit anymore.  We know it's serious because the one line they gave Nichelle Nichols this episode is "I'm frightened."  Pauline Leet is rolling over in her grave, and she ain't even dead yet.


"I still get paid for the day, right?"

Once we get to the past, as they say now on L.A.'s KHJ, the hits just keep on coming.  Spock needs to build some cockamaimie projector out of vacuum tubes, relays and bubble gum, to make his Buck Rogers tricorder work.  Kirk, his life, his universe, but most importantly, his ship on the line, falls head over heels for a local dame.  That might be tolerable, but good grief–Edith Keeler?  The moon-eyed do-gooder who vomits dopey dialogue to winos about how we're gonna go to the stars, harness the atom, and wear lamé uniforms, and those are the years worth living for.  Even that might have been alright had, when Kirk asked where she came up with her visionary ideas, she answered, "Oh, you know–Amazing, Astounding, and like that."  Instead, she just "feels it."

This is the loon that'll inspire a peace movement to keep us out of the war so the Nazis can take over the world?  Color me unconvinced.


"…and don't forget to invest in IBM."

I'm actually surprised to see Harlan's name associated with this hackwork. From what I understand, he was so incensed with what Roddenberry did to his baby that he gave up screenwriting altogether.  What I don't get is why his name is still on the byline.  When an episode of his is torn to shreds, he lets the audience know it in his own particular fashion.

Anyway, the regulars do try their best with what they've got.  Shatner emotes admirably opposite the vapid Collins, particularly when he loses her to the slowest car accident in history.  Nimoy is brilliant, as always, and Kelley is an old pro who couldn't turn in a bad performance if he tried.  The editors and set dressers earn their money, too, doing a more convincing job recreating the past than, well, most any other show on primetime.

But fer the love of Mike, don't let this be the episode Star Trek is forever remembered for.

Three stars.


War = Progress?


by Erica Frank

On the one hand: The obviously doomed romance was achingly sweet. Kirk fell in love with someone he knew has been dead for centuries. He was caught up in Keeler's idealism and hope for a starbound future, which he knows will happen. She was intrigued by a man who, while technically a criminal, is clever, charming, and speaks of Earth as one planet among many. He does not mock her for her belief in space travel, nor for faith that mankind will someday shift its resources from war to philanthropy. They resonate beautifully… and the audience knows that it cannot end well.

On the other hand: Keeler's peace movement resulting in the U.S. losing World War II is awful. It says clearly, "We should have peace someday, but that day is not today." I have questions: If her movement delayed the U.S. entry into the war, did we not react to the attack on Pearl Harbor? Or did that not happen because we were so peaceful?


"I'm sorry, Captain.  My tricorder only picks up VHF."

This story could've found another way to convey the need for history to return to its original path. It did not need to imply that the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were necessary to develop starflight. The aftermath of WWII was horrible and I reject the notion that we can only reach the stars through the painful deaths of millions of people.
Other options include:

  • Keeler's peace movement caught on, spread widely—and had harsh opposition. A group of violent, militant fanatics went rogue and entered WWII earlier, with disastrous results.
  • A ship answers Kirk's call, but its captain and crew are speaking German. Because of the strong peace movement, the atomic bomb was never developed. Hitler never rose to military power—and German and Japanese technology, not American, dominated the late 20th century and eventually pushed into space. Kirk and Spock need to fix history to return to their home, but starflight itself is not in danger.
  • The ship that answers Kirk's call is entirely crewed by Vulcans. The peace movement spread across the Earth quickly; technology developed faster. Humans made contact with the Vulcans earlier, and the two species have a blended culture. Kirk wants to return to his normal universe but does not want Edith Keeler to die—and Spock is conflicted about whether he should stay in this "better" universe.

There are several ways WWII could have had a different outcome if the U.S. had a stronger peace-and-prosperity movement. The aftermath that Kirk discovered did not need to be, "Peace destroyed the Federation."

Aside from that: The episode had several charming moments. Kirk's attempt to explain Spock was hilarious. Spock and McCoy both complained about the "primitive" technology—I wonder if they're going to compare notes later? I give it four stars; my dislike of some of the implications doesn't make it a bad story.


Right on Time


by Lorelei Marcus

I once heard our wide array of television programming described as "a vast wasteland".  While I would argue there are a few hidden gems among the muck, it is true that the majority of shows we pick up on our antennas are…not very good.  A similar proportion obtains in one of the most popular genres of television: the period piece.

Westerns are so prevalent in the wasteland that they have become virtually synonymous with "television".  Watch any film or show in the last ten years, and if there's a TV set on screen, I guarantee it will show a shootout involving a man wearing spurs, or a gaggle of howling Indians, or both.  What amazes me about these Westerns, and historical shows in general, is not their popularity, but their wild disregard for historical accuracy.  Beyond the melodramatic plots and improbably long running times of series compared to the events they are supposed to portray (how long until Saunders and Hanley get out of France, anyway?), there is an obvious lack of effort in production that makes it impossible to believe that the characters are in any other era than the modern day.  Jim West's blow-dried hair in current style, the lavish cat-eyed make-up on what's supposed to be a poor woman in the 1820s, the skinny ties and modern suits on Hogan's Heroes, the outfits the costume department lifted straight from the Sears Catalog for any given episode of Time Tunnel; these are just a few examples of the egregious lack of care that breaks the illusion for historical television.


I absolutely believe this is Rudyard Kipling in 1886.  Good job, Time Tunnel!

What does any of this have to do with Star Trek? The most recent episode, "City on the Edge of Forever", has more elements of a period piece than a science fiction one.  And yet, in its period piece within an SF shell, it does a far better job than virtually every other historical.  I could genuinely believe that Kirk and Spock had traveled to 1930's era Earth because of the extra care taken with the set and costume design.  The scenes had little touches: period signs, old cars, wood-fired furnaces in the basements.  Edith Keeler's hair lacked the obvious '60s stylings we see constantly in Combat! and Twelve O' Clock High.  This extra attention to detail was crucial to the episode, allowing the audience to be carried through the intense emotional currents without being distracted by anachronisms.  It also made Kirk and Spock seem all the more "fish out of water", with their brightly colored uniforms and pointed sideburns, which marked them as aliens even more, perhaps, than Spock's ears.  They contrasted nicely with Edith Keeler's old-fashioned outfits, emphasizing the clash of eras, making the romance between Kirk and Edith all the more poignant…and tragic.


"Nothing to see here, folks!  Just a couple of fellas hanging around."

While I don't think this episode is perfect, I do believe that out of all the historicals in this wasteland called TV, it is a diamond in the rough…as opposed to a cowpat in the road. I hope it inspires other show creators to pay a little more attention to the historical accuracy they bring to their works.

Four stars.


A Mixed Manipulation


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

All of us, when we dive into fiction, are looking to be manipulated. We're looking for emotions to experience, fears to heal through catharsis, fantasies to live out. Good fiction is a massage for the brain. But most of us don't enjoy crude manipulation, any more than we'd enjoy laying down on a leather massage table only to be punched in the back of the head.

Some threads of "The City of the Edge of Forever" felt like crude manipulation; as Erica points out, the bizarrely binary nature of time travel was a particular disappointment. Why must a good woman die for the world to go on? Couldn't she have come to the future with Kirk? Perhaps to live with her fellow pacifists on Vulcan? And while I agree with Lorelei that the costuming and stage setting were convincingly period, the virtual lack of Black, Jewish, Latino, or Asian characters in 1930s Brooklyn was startling; WASP-y crowd after WASP-y crowd filled the street. California accents abounded. The extras in this episode didn't sound or look like the New York City I know.


The demographic melting pot that is The Big Apple

Some threads in this episode were beautifully subtle. The delicate domestic dance between Spock and Kirk as they set-up their Depression-era household was tender and sweet. The mutual courtship between Edith and Kirk, with each laying claim to the other in soft and clever ways, was heartfelt and poignant. The doomed nature of their love only made each spare moment they had together that much more precious. The careful, realistic challenges that Kirk and Spock faced upon their arrival drew me in completely: scrounging for money, making trade-offs between tools for the future and bread for tonight, picking up odd jobs as they came – we haven't seen our crew dive into these kinds of workaday lives before and it provided a deeply satisfying sense of their characters. These moments felt like the best manipulation a viewer could ask for.


Kirk and Spock reliving their dorm days at Starfleet Academy

On the balance, I very much enjoyed this episode. I feel as if I know Kirk and Spock far better than I did a week ago and am excited to see more of their partnership develop. If only it could not be at the expense of the women around them, I would be an entirely happy gal.

Four stars.



Next episode takes us to Space Park in Redondo Beach!  Come join us tomorrow at 8:00 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for a show and fanzine readings…

Here's the invitation!



[April 6, 1967] But what of Star Trek? ("The Alternative Factor")


by Janice L. Newman

Star Trek has given us some of the best science fiction on television. It’s also, like any weekly show with scripts written by different authors, had some mediocre episodes. But watching with a large group every week, we’ve found that even episodes that had many detractors still had at least a few fans among us.

Until now.

“The Alternative Factor” started strong, with an unexplained phenomenon causing everything in the universe to briefly ‘wink out’. There are several tense exchanges between Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, and then one between the captain and “Starfleet Command” (though without the delay which one would expect at such a distance). These exchanges set the stage for a fascinating mystery.


"We've got word that this episode is a stinker, Captain.  You're on your own."

Unfortunately, from that point on, the episode degenerates into an inconsistent, near-nonsensical mess.

During the phenomenon, a person appears on the previously barren planet below. The captain orders the being beamed aboard the ship. The being is unsubtly named “Lazarus”, though we never actually see him give his name, only hear Captain Kirk call him by it later in the episode. Lazarus behaves strangely, begging for help in destroying ‘a monster’. He’s then apparently given the run of the ship, despite the fact that they are at battlestations.


"Say, the coffee's pretty good in this place!"

What follows feels more like a French bedroom farce than an episode of Star Trek. When the phenomenon occurs, we see two inverse silhouettes fighting, and Lazarus is replaced by a different Lazarus, though this is so poorly conveyed that eventually Kirk and Spock must have a conversation heavy with explanation (that lasts five minutes!) in order to tell the audience what’s supposed to be going on. One of the versions of Lazarus is supposedly mild and calm, but the vast majority of the time Lazarus has interacted with the crew he’s been an eye-rolling, scene-chewing maniac. The differentiation of ‘good Kirk’ and ‘evil Kirk’ in “The Enemy Within” was so well done that the clumsily handling here is doubly offensive.


"Bad" Lazarus choking on a piece of scenery

The fact that Lazarus is allowed to roam free to wreak havoc is consistent with previous episodes of Star Trek (see: “Charlie X”, for example) but even after he’s under suspicion of having stolen critical dilithium crystals, he still easily slips through security’s incompetent fingers (when they bother to put a security guard on him at all).

Eventually, Kirk ends up going through a ‘corridor’ between universes and encounters the rational version of Lazarus, who explains that everything the other Lazarus has said—the claims that his civilization was destroyed, that he’s a time traveler, that the rational Lazarus is a monster in human form—are all nothing more than the ravings of a madman. The insane Lazarus is prepared to meet and fight his antimatter counterpart even if it means destroying both universes.

The rational Lazarus outlines a plan where he will trap the other Lazarus in the corridor between their universes and, with Captain Kirk’s help, destroy the ships which act as the doors at either end of the corridor. Though he himself will be trapped for eternity fighting himself, the universes will survive. Captain Kirk helps him implement the plan, mournfully says, “But what of Lazarus…and what of Lazarus?” (a line they liked so much they used it twice) and the episode is, thankfully, over.


"But what of…" "Yes, Jim.  We get it."

What was particularly frustrating about this episode is that there were plenty of ways to make it more coherent and less nonsensical. Instead of having the ship’s crew behave utterly incompetently, Lazarus could have changed locations whenever the phenomenon occurred, allowing him to slip through their fingers without making them seem like buffoons incapable of basic reasoning. Instead of Kirk going along with the plan outlined by the rational Lazarus, he could have attempted to stun the insane Lazarus, and had him escape anyway. Throughout the story ideas are thrown in that seem to come from nowhere, for example, when the sane Lazarus states that destroying the other ship will also destroy his own, it’s the first the audience has heard of such a connection. The ending is poignant, but could have been so much more so if the story had made more sense. The worst thing a show can do is make you ask, “But why didn’t he…? Why didn’t they…?” and I found myself continually plagued by this damming question throughout the episode.

Better editing, more careful writing, and thoughtful direction could have made this story one of the classics. Instead, it’s the worst episode of Star Trek we’ve seen thus far.

One Star.


Bad Comedy


by Joe Reid

Dear Reader, I’d like to preface my thoughts on this weeks’ episode of Star Trek with a number of more pleasurable thoughts.  First being that the month of March just ended and almost everywhere in this wonderful country we live in the weather is beautiful.  Nature is on full display.  Jack MacMahon was just appointed the General Manager of the San Diego Rockets.  That’s good news to local basketball fans.  Lastly April Fools Day came a couple days early courtesy of Mr. Gene Roddenbury. 

My first exclamation of disbelief was provoked very early in the show.  The crew was going about what appeared to be routine business.  They were exploring a mundane new world, with no life, and no civilization; then the makers of the show boldly went to a place of utter confusion.  I said “you have got to be kidding me”, as a red space cloud was layered over the screen in a strange thrusting motion.  It had to be the most meaningless moment of television that I have witnessed in a long time.  The cheesy effect lacked meaning until characters explained to the audience what it was.  At that point it went from being meaningless to ridiculous, but let’s continue.


Trek optical team's finest hour

The second time this airing caused me to question my TV set was not much later in the episode.  It just so happened that the red space cloud effect caused life to appear on the dead new world the crew was in the process of scanning.  The captain decided that it would be a smart idea to visit the planet HIMSELF and say hi to the new life form.  This life form turned out to be a severely accident-prone, waif-bearded swooner named Lazarus, played by Robert Brown.  The first thing this biblically named beatnik does is jump off a rock to apparent death.  If only we were so lucky as to have lost this troublesome character at his first “death” we could have been spared witnessing the unfocused, angry, conniving, and as I previously mentioned swooning performance that Brown brought to us.  The rest of the mainstays were no better.  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy took every opportunity to provide Lazarus with unguarded access to anything that he wanted.  Which forced me to say, “you have got to be kidding me. They can’t be that dumb”.


"Good thing they didn't think to keep me locked up!"

It would be my earnest desire to say that there was only one more instance of low points of the bad joke that this episode was for me.  But like his namesake in the Good Book, Lazarus kept coming back to Life and causing more trouble for the crew of the Enterprise, and they deserved every bit of it for all of the dumb choices the characters in the episode make.  Even up until the last scene, with an unsatisfying twist ending, this episode was a painful stinker of a show.

This episode deserves to receive the lowest rating that I can give, and I would if not for a standout performance by the lovely Janet McLachlan, who played Lt. Charlene Masters.  Her performance was real and grounded, making up for the abysmal performances that surrounded her in this episode.

2 stars



by Gideon Marcus

I think I understand what happened last week. There are obviously two "Alternative Factors" – one matter, one…doesn't matter.

We didn't get the good one.

In another universe, Roddenberry produced a coherent episode, one in which we actually saw the sane Lazarus on the Enterprise and could distinguish him from "crazy Lazarus with Band-Aid", one in which "engineering" actually looked like the engineering sets we've seen before, one in which a better special effect was employed than superimposing the Triffid Nebula over the screen followed by the "EXTRA! EXTRA!" newspaper effect.

In the alternate Alternative Factor, the bugaboo wasn't antimatter, which every Starship in Starfleet utilizes safely in its warp engines. In that episode, there was an explanation for why Lazarus needed dilithium crystals (after all, it's not as if they were necessary to swap universes).  In another reality, there was an explanation why destroying one of the Lazarus ships destroyed the other.

In that alter-episode, it is addressed that one can't actually wrestle another person, even an identical person, for an eternity.  Someone is going to get hungry.

On the other hand, perhaps in this posited installment ("The Other Element", perhaps it's called?) we might not have gotten Lieutenant Charlene Masters, who was a welcome addition to the crew, very Cicely Tyson-esque.


Even the redoubtable Lieutenant Masters couldn't save our version of the episode.

Nevertheless, she's still not enough to pull the episode above a dismal 1.5 stars.

(credit to Tam Phan for the idea for this piece)


Next week's episode promises to be better.  Come join us tonight at 8:00 PM (Eastern and Pacific). We'll be reading a fanzine, too.

Here's the invitation!



[April 2, 1967] On The Immortality Of The Crab (Doctor Who: The Macra Terror)


By Jessica Holmes

In Spanish, there’s a rather delightful way to say you’re daydreaming: ‘Pensando en la inmortalidad del cangrejo’. It literally means ‘thinking about the immortality of the crab’.

The Macra Terror by Ian Stuart Black is a serial that I think will quite often have you pondering on crab immortality, and I don’t mean that it’s thought-provoking.

The first thing you’ll notice about this serial is that there are BIG CHANGES AFOOT. Not in anything trifling like the main cast, but they’ve gone and changed the style of the opening titles. Now they flash up a great big picture of Patrick Troughton’s mug on the screen, in case we forget what the main character looks like.

EPISODE ONE

The Doctor and company arrive in a colony that I can only describe as Butlins IN SPACE. For those of you who aren’t from my neck of the woods, Butlins operates holiday camps where they put on lots of group activities and shows and stuff. Not my cup of tea, but they’re inexpensive and very popular.

An unfortunate soul called Medok (Terence Lodge) has run afoul of the law, however. His crime? Not being deliriously happy, and for very good reason. He’s been seeing monsters.

The gang run into him (literally) outside the TARDIS, and the authorities soon arrive to take him for brainwashing, and take the gang for a makeover.

Yeah, haircuts and beauty treatments take up a surprising amount of the episode. The Doctor smartens up for all of ten seconds before promptly turning back into a complete scruffball. It’s mildly amusing, I suppose. I got bored.

It’s also clear quite early on (though it takes the characters a while to notice) that there’s something deeply weird about this place. Is it the singing shift-change announcements with lyrics like ‘we’re happy to work!’? Could it be the fact that they apparently have a ‘beauty president’? Or perhaps it's the omnipresent giant screens broadcasting the face of their beloved Controller (whose FACE is Graham Leaman, but whose VOICE is Denis Goacher, a fact that will make more sense later)?

Can’t quite put my finger on it.

Curious about what Medok has been claiming to see, however, the Doctor visits him in his cell and sets him free, meeting up with him later at a construction site. There, Medok tells him about the Macra: huge beasts, like giant insects with great claws, moving about in the dark. A few people have seen them, but those who fail to keep their mouths shut soon find themselves in the hospital for ‘correction’.

Oh, and there’s one just outside the building site at this very moment…

This is not a strong start. I get what the writer is trying to do here. It’s all a bit ‘Brave New World’ with a side order of creature-feature, but it’s just falling flat for me. The dialogue is very blandly written and quite wooden. It serves its basic function, but not much else. Let’s see if things improve from here.

EPISODE TWO

The encounter with the Macra gets Medok and the Doctor hauled in front of the colony's Pilot (Peter Jeffrey). Medok covers for the Doctor, telling the Pilot that the Doctor was only trying to apprehend him. The authorities send Medok back to the hospital, and the Doctor returns to his quarters.

The Pilot, meanwhile, decides his guests would benefit from some brainwashing. The Doctor wakes Polly up before the voices in the walls have too much of an effect on her, and Jamie manages to resist, but Ben’s completely under the Pilot’s spell, and even runs off to snitch when the Doctor rips the brainwashing equipment out of the wall.

A little later, Ben and Polly have their own run-in with the Macra, briefly snapping Ben back to his usual self as he comes to Polly’s rescue. However, by the time they get back to the Doctor, Ben’s once again mind-controlled. I can tell because for some reason his accent changes. Apparently you get free elocution lessons with your brainwashing.

Finding brainwashing equipment in the Pilot's quarters, the Doctor realises that somebody is brainwashing the Pilot himself. The group (sans Ben) start to question the very existence of the yet-to-appear-in-person Controller. There’s something fishy about the place, and it all seems to stem from him.

The group demand to see him in person, and surprisingly he acquiesces. But the Controller is no longer a young man with a jawline you could use to cut glass. He’s old. Very old. And it doesn’t appear that he’s the man in charge any longer, if he ever was. It's been his face on the screen… but not his voice.

And it appears that he has outlived his usefulness.

The Macra aren’t a new threat to the colony after all. They’ve been running it all this time.

This episode’s a bit more interesting, and the reveal with the Controller is quite well done, even if it is a bit ‘Wizard Of Oz’. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE CRAB BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

EPISODE THREE

Now that they know the truth, the real Controllers send the gang down to the pits to mine for gas, where they reunite with Medok. The Doctor remains on the surface to supervise and meddle, and manages to reverse-engineer the formula for the poisonous gas that the colonists are mining, but can’t work out what it’s for.

Down in the tunnels, Jamie steals the keys to an access door from an overseer, and sneaks into an abandoned mineshaft. Medok goes after him, but almost immediately runs afoul of a giant claw.

Jamie finds him dead and runs into the beasts that killed him, but that’s not the end of his problems. Learning that Jamie has gone out of bounds, Control vents gas into the old shaft. If this gas is so valuable, the Doctor is puzzled that they’d waste it on killing Jamie. It must have another use. Bear in mind he doesn't have any way of knowing what exactly is going on inside the shaft. He can't see the Macra, or communicate with Jamie. He just knows that Jamie is in there. And yet he manages to come to the conclusion that there must be Macra in the mineshaft, and they must need the gas to live. He’s right, but that’s a leap of logic bordering on omniscience. It’s not very satisfying to watch the invisible hand of the writer blatantly hand a character information.

The Doctor and Polly scramble to stop the flow of gas, but the Macra are encroaching on Jamie…

EPISODE FOUR

The Doctor manages to pump fresh air into the mineshaft just as the Macra begin to drag Jamie from his hiding spot, and then there’s a convenient rockslide just to make doubly sure they’re dead.

With that problem dealt with, Jamie escapes the tunnel and runs into something much worse: cheerleaders.

To escape them, he dances the Highland Fling. It’s… quite something. Unfortunately, Ben catches him, and reveals him to the authorities. It seems the brainwashing is starting to wear off however, as Ben clearly struggles with himself as he betrays his friend.

On the run from the authorities, the Doctor and Polly end up finding their way to the control room, and spot the Macra within. They’re like parasites that have completely hijacked the colony. The Pilot needs to see this.

It’s a struggle to get him to come with them, but the Pilot manages to resist Control’s command, and he’s horrified to find out that they’re telling the truth. Apparently a lifetime of brainwashing doesn’t come with any cognitive dissonance. However, the group are apprehended, and forced into a room which begins to fill with toxic gas.

Ben chooses this moment to finally shake off his brainwashing and come to the rescue, messing around with the gas inflow and outflow to create an explosion. Somehow. And it only blows up the Macra in the control room. This bit is not very well explained at all.

All’s well that ends well, and the colonists try to elect the Doctor as their next pilot. That won’t do at all, so the gang heads off on their merry way, dancing through the celebration as they go.

Final Thoughts

So, that was The Macra Terror. Was it terrifying? Uh, no. Perhaps to younger children, but I’m not scared of crabs so there’s nothing about making a crab BIGGER that makes it any scarier to me. The Macra model itself is quite impressive in terms of scale, I’ll give it that much.

Character-wise, nobody’s interesting enough to comment on, and the plot doesn’t have much going for it either. It’s just a bit dull. On paper the idea of a colony being secretly controlled for an ulterior purpose sounds quite interesting, but the execution just feels flat. Rather than ‘oh my goodness!’ my reaction is more ‘Oh, and?’ because it ultimately doesn’t seem to matter that much.

Everyone finds out they’ve been under the control of a bunch of evil crabs for the past few decades and they just go right back to business as usual once the crabs get blown up. I think there was a missed opportunity to examine how the colony might adjust once the influence of the Macra was lifted. Their entire culture revolves around working and keeping the masses mindlessly happy and obedient. What happens to them when their entire reason to be here is suddenly removed? I’m not asking for half a dozen episodes of political fallout, but maybe a single conversation isn’t too much to ask?

All in all, it’s a pretty forgettable story. Not dreadful, but if you didn’t get to see it, don’t worry. You’re not missing much.

2.5 out of 5 for The Macra Terror




[March 30, 1967] The Peacekeepers (Star Trek: "Errand of Mercy")


by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek offered a mirror to our present day world of Cold War tensions with its latest episode, "Errand of Mercy".

The episode begins with two mighty star nations, the United Federation of Planets ("a democracy") and the Klingon Empire ("brutal, savage") about to go to war.  And not a border skirmish, but a full on, fleet vs. fleet conflict that may see one of the parties laid to heel.

In between them, strategically located, is the planet of Organia.  Its inhabitants are humanoid, seemingly primitive.  As chance would have it, the Enterprise gets there before the Klingons, and Kirk (accompanied by Spock) attempts to persuade the Organians to accept a Federation protectorate, in exchange for defense, technology, education, and other benefits of enlightened society.

The Organians rebuff a bemused Kirk, assuring him that there is no danger.  Whereupon the Klingons arrive, quickly establishing a military governorship.  Unable to convince the Organians to fight for their freedom, Kirk and Spock attempt a two-man resistance effort.  They are quickly sold out by the Organians, but then rescued from prison by the self-same natives. The Klingon Commander, Kor, orders the slaughter of 200 Organians every hour until they are returned. Again, the Organians assure our heroes that nothing amiss is occurring.

Ultimately, two mighty battle fleets square off in the vicinity of Organia.  This proves to be the last straw.  The people of Organia demonstrate heretofore unseen power, their spokesman, Ayelborne, appearing in person on the Klingon and Federation homeworlds, announcing the immobilization of all combatants.


The Organians reveal their true power

In a nice moment, Kirk and Kor express their outrage at not being allowed to settle their differences through war.  They quickly come around when it is clear they have no choice.  In the final act, Kirk broods over his belligerence, feeling much chagrined.  Spock explains that they have many millennia to go before they, too, can become Gods.

We've seen many episodes where the Enterprise meets much more advanced races: "Charlie X", The Squire of Gothos", "The Corbomite Maneuver", "Arena", "Shore Leave".  Some might even be tired of the theme (I am not–we should expect half of the beings we encounter to be far beyond us; cosmic timescales favor this).  But "Errand of Mercy" is the best of this type of show we've seen so far, illuminating our frailties as a species beautifully.

"Errand" is aided by some of the best casting we've seen in the show.  John Abbott imbues Ayelborne with dignity and strength, suffused with a penetrating mildness.  And John Colicos, who I've seen before on Mission: Impossible, is affably delightful as Commander Kor.  By turns irritated and almost entreating, Kor comes across as, if anything, a lonely man.  He is isolated by his rank, by his position as an obvious intellectual and aesthete in an Empire of thugs.  Kor seems to want nothing more than to have a friend, and the only person who might qualify is his mortal enemy, Captain Kirk.  To echo Mr. Spock, "fascinating."

I appreciated the justifications for war laid out by both sides, as they appealed to Ayleborne to allow them to continue their fight.  The Klingons, Kirk says, raided planets.  The Federation, Kor insists, was hemming the Klingons in, cutting them off from territory that had always been theirs.  Yes, the American/Soviet parallels are strong (to the point that Kor boasts that the Klingons will win due to their unswerving dedication to their state, and their positions as cogs in its system).  Juanita Coulson, in the latest Yandro, praised the show for its economy of writing, how much they back into almost throwaway lines.  This episode does a lot with a little.  In this, they are aided by director John Newland, who did most of this year's excellent (but abortive) spy show, The Man Who Never Was.


And Sulu took the center seat again!

There were some complaints voiced about the show during our viewing.  Two observed that Kirk was too quick to take the Organians at face value, asking the wrong questions (when he asked any) as to why they felt so secure.  To that, I note that 1) Kirk is, as he says in the episode, "a soldier, not a diplomat"; his behavior is entirely consistent with what we've seen in prior episodes (viz. "The Squire of Gothos" and "Arena").  2) A war had just been declared, with shots already fired.  Kirk's focus was, shall we say, narrow.  This also may explain why Spock was unusually accommodating in his impromptu guerrilla role.

Indeed, that's what I love about this episode.  The Organians put themselves into a form humans can understand, and yet it's still not enough.  Both Kirk and Kor (an intentional similarity of names?) are irritated with these beings who do not behave as they "should".  The only beings with whom they share any common ground are each other!


"In another life, I could have called you 'friend'.  Wait.  Wrong episode.

Another viewer noted that the Federation, as American analogs, would have simply taken Organia, as the Klingons ultimately did (or tried).  And perhaps they would have.  I like to think the humans (and Vulcans) are better than that.  At the very least, Kirk tried to persuade them peacefully.  But given the deliberate portrayal of the Klingons as the Federation through a glass darkly, I think the viewer may have had a point.  And probably one intended to be gotten by the writer.

Speaking of which, Gene L. Coon is a name that has popped up several times recently.  Between writers Coon and D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana, it does seem that Star Trek is reaching a consistent maturity.  Gone are references to "Earth" (though the "Federation" has a single homeworld, per Ayelborne the Organian).  The show seems to have settled on "Vulcan" over "Vulcanian".  The characters are firmly established.

With the arrival of the Organians, one wonders if the character of the show will change drastically.  Are the Organians a galactic phenomenon, or do they only care about their sector of space?  That they didn't intervene in the war with the Romulans suggests the latter.  If the Organians are strictly local, will the Federation and Klingons find other frontiers to fight about?

I can't wait to find out!  Five stars.


A Peaceful Fantasy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I've written before about alien cultures reacting to Federation colonialism – from the Horta last week to the Gorn a few weeks before. In this episode, we got to see what Captain Kirk hoped was the beginning of if not colonization, then as Gideon puts it, "protectorate status."

And we saw the Organians gently reject this and all such overtures. Over and over again, we hear varions of of, "Captain, I can see that you do not understand us. Perhaps…" and "We are in no danger."


"Mellow out, man.  Everything's cool!"

At first, like Captain Kirk, I thought the Organians unbearably naive. But it turns out that Captain Kirk, and I, were arrogant. They were in no danger; capable of unilaterally ending a war that promised galaxy-wide devastation with a thought. They were ably prepared to defend themselves and the two societies who so wished to do violence around them.

Of all of the god-like aliens we have seen, I liked these the best. No capricious squires or whiny, cruel children; the Organians had a philosophy, the discipline to live by it, and the power to ensure they remained unbothered by outside forces while on their paths. I can imagine the Horta or the Gorn would have envied those powers, though as Commander Spock pointed out, "it took millions of years for the Organians to evolve into what they are. Even the gods did not spring into being overnight."


Spock comforts Jim for being a primitive.

I find these forms of power fantasies deeply satisfying. Every day, we see the power of violence, of guns, of bombs, of war. To see, if only for a few, technicolor minutes, a power to stop war? To prevent violence? To ensure cultural continuity and security in the face of attempts to colonize? That is a fantasy I enjoy a great deal. Lest I sound too star-struck, I will note that I would have preferred to see any Organian women, any evidence of many cultures mixing together, of creativity, of growth, rather than the mild stasis that seemed to characterize their society. But for what it was, it was good to see.

Just don't ask me to live there.

Four stars.

An Actually Superior Superiority


by Elijah Sauder


In this episode of Star Trek, we saw not just the most powerful god-like-beings we have seen, but also the most compelling. In our previous encounters, the god-like-beings' powers were potent, but only in a localized region of space. In this episode the Organians immobilized the entire Space Force and Klingon Empire’s armies. To quote (approximately) Kirk, “We never had a chance; the Organians raided the game.”


"Mooom!  He started it!"

As humans we want to feel in control and to exert such control through whatever means necessary; we meddle, we fight. But the Organians did not exhibit the same behavior. They expressed disgust at the thought of meddling, and when they meddled, it was in the most pacifist of ways. This gave them a suggestion of superiority far greater than that of the previous powerful beings, who flaunted their power in a way that was nothing more than human.

I very much enjoyed this episode through and through–not just as a show, but as a writer’s vision of what we should strive to be. Looking around at the violence and overreach of global superpowers we see today, what would it look like if we could transcend our primal nature to something better?

I give this episode 5/5.


The Dittoverse


by Lorelei Marcus

A crucial part of the science fiction genre is aliens, and Star Trek gives them to us in great variety.  We have the completely unfamiliar aliens like the salt-monster from "The Man Trap" or the silicon-based carpet monster from "The Devil in the Dark".  Then there's the God-like beings, which display evolution well beyond the people of the Enterprise.  My favorite aliens, though, are the humanoid ones, because their existence suggests a great deal about the Star Trek universe.

The Klingons are the third race of aliens we've seen that seem to be technologically and evolutionarily similar to the humans of the Federation.  First were the Vulcan(ians), and then the Romulans, though there is strong evidence that the Romulans are distant relatives of the Vulcans, and thus constitute one species.  The Klingons seem to have a similar relationship to humans based on their appearance, customs, and technology.  Perhaps the Klingon Empire is the result of a colony ship like Khan's, launched during Earth's warring period.  Yet I suggest there is a larger mystery afoot.

Minor differences aside, there is also a distinct resemblance between humans and Vulcans [and apparently an ability to interbreed (ed.)].  Initially, one could attribute this to the limitations of Star Trek's make-up department, but I propose there is an explanation for not just the connection between humans and Vulcans, but every humanoid alien seen and to be seen on the show.


Amazing fashion sense aside, the Klingons are remarkably humanoid.

This answer lies in "Miri" (the episode, not the character).  "Miri" introduces that 'mirror Earths' exist, worlds that appear exactly like the Federation's homeworld, yet with distinct populations and even timelines.  While we've yet to see another identical Earth like the one in "Miri", we have seen many habitable worlds and humanoid aliens.  What if a common ancestor of the humans, the Klingons, the Vulcans, all started from the same place, on the same world, at a certain early point in its evolution?  Then, this proto-Earth was progressed countless times in separate timelines, each evolving into the cultures and creatures we know.  Each of these separate Earths were somehow folded into one space, perhaps with some space-time affecting technology like a Starship's warp drive.  We already know time travel is possible using the Enterprise.  Why not an accidental collapse of the fourth dimension as well?

There is a simpler solution, of course.  All of these identical worlds could be deliberate constructs for some higher being's experiment.  Personally, I think this explanation is less interesting, but with the number of God-like aliens we've seen, probably the more likely.

Either way, I love science fiction that makes me speculate on the very fabric of the universe.  This episode is definitely a great additional piece to the puzzle that is Star Trek.

Four stars.



I have no idea what to make of this next episode of Star Trek.  Come join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) and help us figure it out.

Here's the invitation!



[March 22, 1967] The Lurking Fear (Star Trek: "The Devil in the Dark")

The Devil’s Advocate


by Andrea Castaneda

There appears to be a recurring theme in Star Trek that showcases how a planet's native species respond to human interaction. In “Arena”, “Galileo Seven”, and “Man Trap”, we’re presented with an outright hostile response that thwarts the possibility of a sustainable settlement. “Devil in the Dark " appeared, at first glance, to go in this direction. However, it is the way this week’s “monster” is framed in an empathetic light that sets this episode apart.

The episode proceeds predictably…at first. On planet Janus VI, a mysterious thing is killing man after man deep in the Pergium mines. Enter the Starship Enterprise, who are called to investigate the matter. After getting briefed by colony chief mining engineer Vanderberg, Kirk and his crew set out to track down and kill whatever this creature is. But not before Spock examines a perfectly spherical rock, describing it as a “geological oddity”. Vanderberg refers to it as a silicon nodule, saying his team found thousands of them after they opened a new level.

It didn’t take a lot of brain power for me to deduce that the nodules were probably the creature’s eggs. The mining operation threatened its nest, so the creature began to defend it. The Gorn in “Arena” and primitive species in “Galileo Seven” responded with a similar hostility to the perceived “invaders”. Why would this creature be any different?


"This egg-like thing? No idea what it is."

Suddenly, alarms blare, the crew rushes outside, and to their horror they see there’s been another attack. Not only is another man left dead, but the creature has taken a vital piece of equipment, one necessary to sustain human life. And while Scotty’s ingenuity buys them time, they now have a race against the clock. Perhaps that’s why Kirk takes on a more militant approach, ordering his men to shoot the creature on sight.

Eventually, Kirk and Spock come face to face with the creature at last. Looking like a blob made out of a shag rug and Chef Boy-ar-dee, it approaches them, and the men fire their phasers. Wounded, a piece breaks off, and it retreats back into the rock. Examining the piece, the men conclude that it is a silicon based lifeform–explaining why it didn’t appear on their carbon-based lifeform scans. As the men speculate about what the creature is, a fear dawns in Spock that it may be the last of its kind.

We are given a similar situation in "Man Trap", in which a lone shapeshifting salt-sucking creature kills many members of the Starship Enterprise to survive. But as the conflict hinges more on McCoy's personal affection for the creature–who looks like his old flame–its death is more symbolic of McCoy choosing duty over love. We get one mournful moment when Kirk reflects on the now extinct species, but it is framed as something that had to be done.

But this is where “Devil in the Dark” makes the most significant deviation from the format. When confronted with the creature again, Kirk has a change of heart when he sees it recoil from the sight of the phaser. Realizing it may be more than just a mere animal, he asks Spock–who now wants the creature dead to save Kirk–to touch minds with it.


Heart to…heart?

This was the moment that made this episode stand out for me. Speaking through the Vulcan, the creature identifies itself as a Horta and explains how she only started the attacks after the miners destroyed her eggs. Because the rest of her species died out, something that happened every 50,000 years, she was left as the lone protector of the eggs.

We are given a similar exchange in "Arena", when the Gorn tells Kirk his kind "destroyed invaders" of his planet, but it isn't nearly as emotionally charged as the Horta’s. Through Spock, the creature sobs, lamenting the impending doom of her kind and calling the humans “murderers” and “devils”. Kirk now realizes the misunderstanding and calls McCoy to heal and save the creature.

Unbeknownst to them, the angry mob of miners overwhelm the Enterprise’s security team, and rush to claim… whatever the Horta has for a head. But Spock, having learned her species’s history, convinces them that she is benevolent by nature. As proof, he explains that she had known about the human colony for the last 50 years, only attacking in recent months as a last resort to protect her species. And by some miracle, the men’s anger is suddenly quelled, having seen the error of their ways. It is, perhaps, an over-generous portrayal of human forgiveness. But maybe the agreement of letting Horta hatchlings help in their mining operations–thus giving them more profit–is what helped let bygones be bygones.

“Devil in the Dark” isn’t a flawless episode. But the moving portrayal of the Horta lamenting her lost future is what made this episode one of my favorites. It offers a new perspective for what the native species of a planet may feel when confronted with the “alien” humans. Still, I can't help but spare a thought for the salt-creature of "Man Trap", and even the Gorn in "Arena", who also may have felt the same sense of existential anguish.

Five stars.


FUTURE IMPERFECT


by Joe Reid

I love and enjoy a good sci-fi story. I am a lover of the works of Mr. Robert Heinlein and other masters like him. In the pages of a good sci-fi book you have fantastical worlds and brave people that are navigating those worlds for the adventure, to save those they care for, and to just plain do what is right and honest. Good sci-fi is so unlike our present world, where the strong, by hook or by crook, take what doesn't belong to them for the benefit of some high and mighty master who already got more scratch than a dog with fleas. Scratch stands for money, for those of you unfamiliar with street lingo.

So this episode comes along and reminds me a little too much of the world we live in. It starts off underground on a planet with the cleanest looking miners I ever laid my eyes on. They have a problem. Something is stopping the means of production of whatever it is that these miners in their all too clean jumpsuits need to mine. That problem is these workers are dying for some reason. Notice that it takes 50 of these men dying before the corporate bosses do something about it.


"You'll be just fine… Bob, was it? Ah, who cares?"

What do their bosses do about it? They do what all big money types do. They send in a fixer to make the problem go away. In comes the crew of the spaceship Enterprise. Their leader Captain “Jim” Kirk shows up and it is pretty obvious early on that all he cares about is making sure that the miners get back to producing. It doesn't matter that there’s 50 men fewer to do the work they were doing before. Money is money!

For almost all of the episode, Kirk is single-mindedly focused. Getting those space rocks moving is more important than anything else. So much so that when we learn that the creature that is killing the miners is a new form of life never seen before, Kirk would rather eliminate it than try to communicate with it. Dr., or Mr. Spock (I get confused about which is right) tries to stop him from killing the creature, but it is to no avail, as the call of space dollars drowns out any call to “seek out new life and new civilizations”. Kirk cruelly dismisses the concerns of his friend and pulls rank on him to force compliance out of the creature. So much for friendship huh, Jim?


"I'm right behind you, Spock."

In the end, it appeared to the viewer that Kirk had a change of heart and started to care about something other than money. He then uses Mr. Spock to talk to the creature, putting Spock at personal risk. For what? So that Kirk can save the creature? Bring back the dead miners? Nope! Having discovered that the creature was smart and didn’t want its species to be killed off, Kirk understood that he could use that fear to make even more money for the corporate interests that he works for. Thinking just like the greedy men of our world, and crushing any hope that the future will be a better place for any of us.

[I'll also note a striking thing Joe said after the episode: "Everyone's happy. The natives work for free, and in return, they get to keep their lives." One wonders if the Horta would have been preserved had they not been such good miners… (ed.)]

Before ya’ll get too upset with me, I know, this is just a TV show. It isn’t real. I'll tell you what though. Things we see on TV and read in paperbacks might very well be real. Only, not just yet. It is the kind of real that we hope to see someday. The kind that we will make happen in time.

And that's why I didn’t care much for this episode of Star Trek. Instead of providing a hopeful vision of the future, I just got to see the same kind of motivations that leap up at me from the pages of newspapers. I hope that the creators of this show can offer me something more hopeful in other episodes. If Star Trek keeps looking like downtown Detroit, where big corporate bosses only care about profits and send their stooges to enforce their desires, I fear that there may not be much future for this picture of the future.


Friendly interaction in Kercheval, Detroit, last summer.

3 stars


A Vulcanian’s Best Friend


by Abigail Beaman

If you were to ask my opinion about Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, I would of course start gushing over how much I love the cast and concept of the show. It has to be one of my favorite programs that I sit down and watch regularly. Each character has a unique personality that sets him and her apart from each other, so much so that I can remember their names.

While Captain James T Kirk is charismatic and headstrong, Doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy is cantankerous and hot-headed; but no one stands out as much as Mister Lieutenant Commander Spock. The reason is simple: he is half-Vulcan(ian?), an alien race whose members either lack emotions or repress said emotions. Due to his half-Vulcan side, Mister Spock is best described as a logical, calm, and stoic computerized man. And while it seems he gets along with most of the crew, despite his emotionless stature, there seems to be just one person that Spock truly cares about on the Enterprise. That man of course is Captain Kirk.

How do I reach this conclusion? Well, simply the only time Spock seems to break his stoic behavior and disregard any morals he has (without the aid of a certain flower’s spores) is when Kirk is in trouble. This episode shows just how deep the relationship runs between the half-Vulcan scientist and the charismatic human captain.

At the start of the episode, Spock makes it clear that he doesn’t want to kill the Horta, as he believes it to be the last of the species, a reservation he expressed in "The Man Trap", too. Spock in other episodes also has demonstrated that he values life above all else. It seems that preserving life is a moral of his and to break it would be like him breaking his stoic, Vulcan behavior. Even when Kirk tells the security team that they are to kill the Horta on sight, Spock disregards this direct order and tells the team to try to keep it alive if possible.


"Spock, what did I just say? Kill, not capture."

That is, until Kirk is at the Horta’s mercy. Spock’s opinion of the situation changes entirely: he tells Kirk to shoot it, to kill it before it kills him. The fear that Spock displays not only in his voice but also his movements clearly paints a picture, that Kirk is someone Spock cherishes greatly. Spock runs down the cave to save his friend only to find out Kirk has had a change in heart. Spock was not only ready to kill the Horta, but to sacrifice his own morals for Kirk. I don’t know about you, but the only time I would consider betraying my morals is for someone I consider a true friend, not someone who I work with.


"I'm quickening my pace, Jim!"

Clearly, the relationship between Spock and Kirk goes beyond that of just co-workers. It's a revelation that has been a long time coming, and a welcome one. Which is why I felt compelled to discuss it over any other aspect of the episode. That Spock sees Kirk as someone he cares about, enough to break his “Vulcanian cool” and morals to save, leaves me reassured. Maybe Spock can't be "happy", as he stated last episode. Nevertheless, even if Spock is an emotionless alien, he still can find a kind of companionship in his best friend, Jim Kirk.

Four stars.


Fighting Fire with Empathy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I loved the twistiness of this episode. First Kirk wants to kill the Horta, then he defends it with not only his own life, but his crew's bodies. First it's a monster, then a mother. First Spock is his usual cool, emotionless self, and then he is screaming in pain as he connects himself mentally to the Horta. First the silicon nodules have "no commercial value" and then they become the hope of a new golden age of mining on Janus 6.


"Oooo, that smarts!"

Just like in "Arena," in "The Devil in the Dark" we are confronted with the colonial shortsightedness of Starfleet. Janus 6 is a "long-established colony" whose longtime colonists have somehow managed to miss an entire species of rock-dwelling creatures. Now, their 50,000 year breeding cycle might explain this, but stepping away from the specifics, it does remind me of modern failures of imagination, particularly in cases of colonial governments failing to understand the places they seek to control.

For example, the refusal of the U.S. Forest Service to use the wildfire management strategies that the Tongva Nation, Chumash Bands, and other peoples have used since time immemorial in what is now called California. Last November, this led to the tragic death of 10 hotshot firefighters in the Loop Fire near Los Angeles. Like the Horta, that wildfire burned hot and seemingly without reason; but wildfires, like Hortas, often have a logic of their own. The canyons that burned in the Angeles National Forest had been left uncleared for decades of misguided fire-suppression policies. When all of that mass had built up, of course it burned too hot and too fast to stop. The failure of the Janus 6 geologic survey team to find local life built up another kind of conflagration, one that killed 50. One hopes they won't make that mistake again.


The Loop Fire

Though we can't use Spock's Vulcanian skills to read the minds of wildfires, one of the beauties of science fiction is the hope that we might one day communicate with someone as different from us as blood and stone, or fire and water. The tension between what is and what could be, the twistiness as we get from here to there, is the fun of the genre, and this episode did a great job of letting us enjoy the ride.

4 stars.



In the next episode, Kirk and Spock go to the California Renaissance Faire. Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific)!.

Here's the invitation!

 



[March 12, 1967] Computerized Futures & Humanity (Out of the Unknown: Season Two)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Computers seem to be appearing in everywhere these days, and now are coming into our schools.

Brentwood School IBM 1800

For the last few months, the Brentwood School in Palo Alto, California have been spending 30 minutes a day being taught by specially rigged up IBM 1800s.

One screen is setup to display images, whilst information is relayed over the headphones. The children will then answer simple questions using their “light pen” to write answers on another screen. If they answer correctly, it will move on to the next problem. If they do not, it will attempt to reexplain the problem in a new way, to see if it can help the child understand.

This kind of teaching appears to be effective, although it is likely to be a while before it is commonplace. The computers are still very expensive and there were issues with them breaking down (even, if the kids brought in a “get well soon card” to one of them). However, this kind of future is exactly the type that is being talked about in the latest series of Out of the Unknown.

Returning to the Unknown

Out of the Unknown Title Card

It feels to me that Irene Shubik was paying close attention to the response to last season. The most beloved stories of 1965’s series were probably Andover and the Android and The Midas Plague. As such the plays we have this season concentrate heavily on robotics, changes to the nature of humanity and scientific control of people’s lives.

Return of the Robots

Starting with our mechanical friends we get 4 tales of robots (although one I will address in a different section as not to spoil the twist occurring later in the episode). Perhaps unsurprisingly, given Shubik’s friendship and his fame in this arena, two of these tales are from Asimov which round off the season.

I have seen them both classified as comedies, however I would not place them within that genre. They are certainly not as laugh out loud funny as The Midas Plague was. Rather they are satires of human nature.

Satisfaction Guaranteed
Yes…definitely a robot!

The first is Satisfaction Guaranteed (originally a Susan Calvin story but she has been removed, apparently so she could be used in the second tale’s frame without confusing the viewer) and concerns the creation of a humanoid servant to a housewife. At first, she is reticent about his presence but, as time goes on, she finds herself developing feelings. I had not been a fan of the original short story, but I found this one engaged me, particularly as I feel the ending is made more ambiguous and downbeat.

The Prophet
“There is no master but The Master, and QT1 is his Prophet”

The second is even more impressive, The Prophet, adapted from Reason in Asimov’s famed I, Robot collection. In this episode, Susan Calvin tells an interviewer the story of robots on a space station developing a belief that the power source of the station is their Master and humans are merely inferior earlier models. The design work and performances on this are excellent, and the additions of the Calvin frame and religious touches to the robots’ ceremonies make for an interesting and thought provoking spin on an already much lauded tale.

Fastest Draw
The Marshall approaches…finally!

Less successful is the adaptation of Larry Eisenberg’s Fastest Draw. It wasn’t a particularly noteworthy story to begin with (our John Boston gave it just two stars) and it doesn’t amount to much on screen either. Having a millionaire want to relive a western using automata doesn’t end up being much more than a stretched-out version of a plot you might see on Gunsmoke or The Virginian. There is so much talking and padding the appearance of The Marshall is not so much a great reveal as just relief that events are finally unfolding. I think Robots and Westerns are just not meant to mix, on screen at least.

Whilst robots are a major part of the series, we also have Frankenstein-esque tales of scientists changing what it means to be human.

Frankenstein Marks 2, 3, 4 and 5

Frankenstein Mark II
If the Radio Times can show an image of the creature, then so can I!

The most obvious example being Frankenstein Mark II, and not just in name. It follows Anna, whose ex-husband has seemingly vanished. After investigating she discovers he has been part of an experiment to change his body to be perfectly adapted to spaceflight. The unfolding mystery and horrific elements of this episode are well done but there just isn’t quite enough meat on this story as I would have hoped.

Too Many Cooks
Yes, that is indeed a lot of Cooks!

Watching Too Many Cooks, part of me wondered if Larry Eisenberg came up with the pun first and built a story around it. Humanity is in competition with a race called “The Sentients” from Alpha Centauri, to improve the position of the Solar System a plan is put in place to secretly duplicate their most successful scientist, Dr. Andrew Cook. As with some of these other pieces it starts out strong but by the end, I am left wondering what the point of it all was. It raises a number of interesting moral questions but then just lets them sit there without any real exploration. I still enjoyed it overall, just feels a little like a missed opportunity.

Second Childhood
Charles regains his youth, but at what cost?

From duplication of an individual to a rebirth. Second Childhood starts out in a very memorable fashion with a game show, where the rich can risk a million pounds to win a prize money cannot buy. When Charles wins the jackpot, he is able to undergo an experimental operation to regain his youth. It then becomes an interesting morality tale following Charles, in some ways reminding me of Wells’ Invisible Man. Unfortunately, the ending is the kind of obvious twist that reminds me of the forgettable joke stories we used to get during Avram Davidson’s tenure editing Fantasy & Science Fiction.

Walk's End
A not quite so restful rest home

The final of this class of tales, Walk’s End, starts promisingly enough, with the unusual setting of an old people’s home, where something strange is happening to the residents. With the exception of some apocalyptic novels like Aldiss’ Greybeard, we don’t get many stories of old age in science fiction, here we get two. Whilst Second Childhood approaches it from the perspective of trying to recapture youth, this is about continuing old age, a very interesting topic given the current trend of people living longer. However, I felt it didn’t really develop anywhere and the ending was also less impactful than I believe was intended.

One interesting feature to note about these plays is they are all new for Out of the Unknown, even Too Many Cooks by Larry Eisenberg is an unpublished piece he submitted for adaptation. As in the first season, these seemed to also be the weakest of the stories, perhaps due to the writers not having as much material to work from?

However, the largest selection of tales this season are those where people find themselves in computerized futures, where their lives are no longer their own.

Tomorrow’s World

The Machine Stops
If wonder if you can pick up KGJ on this?

The Machine Stops opened the season and has rightly been acclaimed as among the best productions the show has yet done. Following closely E. M. Forster’s tale, humans live inside an environment completely controlled by The Machine, no one has to leave their rooms at all, they can make calls, learn, be entertained, give lectures and more all without standing up from their chairs. Whilst Vashti is content in this world, her son Kuno wants to explore life outside The Machine. It is a strongly constructed play, with beautiful design work, and a stand-out performance of Yvonne Mitchell as Vashti.

Curiously, in the Radio Times preview for this episode, it is stated that the set design was inspired by the Edwardian era as they felt the concerns were of the period. I personally think the idea of human disconnection due to over-reliance on machines has become more prescient, not less, as we enter the computer age, and this makes it even more a powerful piece for that.

Level Seven
Nice and safe down in Level Seven, nothing could possibly go wrong…

Level Seven has an interesting history. This script was written by the much-acclaimed J. B. Priestley (famed for such works as The Good Companions, I Have Been Here Before and An Inspector Calls) for an unmade 1960 film adaptation of Mordecai Roshwald’s novel. This was purchased for the series, but it was too long and had a number of elements which would not work on TV. However, Priestley refused to make the edits, so it was up to Shubik to make the necessary changes in-between her producing work for the series.

In spite of this troubled genesis, it is an incredible and powerful play. It is a story of nuclear war, yet for much of the episode it is all kept at a safe tidy distance, as this is meant to be an impenetrable base for launching nuclear attacks from. The people live in this bubble as the realities of war are merely seen through screens and computer displays and they try to go on with their lives as the world above collapses.

One issue is that I could not help but compare it to The Machine Stops at times. Take these two sections of dialogue. First from The Machine Stops:

You talk as if God made The Machine. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men but men.

And then from Level 7:

We built the machine. We were very clever people, and the machines told us what to do and we did it.

I still think they are both strong and worthwhile plays, but it does highlight the limitations of choosing to concentrate on such similar themes in a single run of episodes

Tunnel Under The World
Travelling through the titular tunnel

Talking of stories that feel familiar, I imagine anyone watching the series would be unsurprised to learn Tunnel Under The World comes from the pen of Frederik Pohl, responsible for last year’s Midas Plague. Rather than an unhappy man struggling to cope in a world where he is forced to consume, here he is forced to endure endless advertising. What makes the play interesting, from our perspective, is that we see the day repeats in almost exactly the same manner, only the nature of adverts he experiences changes, even if it is for the same few products. Mr. Pohl clearly doesn’t like the advertising industry much, but he knows how to spin a fascinating yarn about it and this goes in an unexpected direction for those not familiar with the original story.

The World in Silence
Hopefully Sarah learnt more from the teaching machines than I did from the episode.

On the other hand, I don’t have much to say about The World in Silence. Set at a Further Education College, students are now being taught by teaching machines. But following a realignment the students seem to develop a kind of hive mind and take over the college as part of a computer system in themselves. Much like the story it is adapted from, Six Cubed Plus One by John Rankine, I felt there wasn’t enough there to build a tale around and I had trouble maintaining interest in it (in spite of the wonderful Deborah Watling in the lead).

The Eye
Who watches the watchmen? Us, apparently!

I did wonder if the same problems would plague The Eye (adapted from Private Eye by Henry Kuttner) with a story that is just discussing a possible murder case by watching it on a TV screen. The premise is that with someone’s life completely observed, the investigators can determine the guilt of anyone by simply watching through the events as they see them. But what they cannot know is what is truly in someone’s mind.

It did manage to use its format to its advantage and kept me more engaged than I expected, even if I felt the ending was a bit weak. It was not the strongest play Out of the Unknown has produced, but still very tightly constructed and well worth your time.

Lambda 1
Try walking next time, much healthier!

Lambda 1 I have saved reviewing until last as it is easily the strangest. Transport in the future is being performed by Tau, international journeys barely take any time by travelling directly through the Earth via atomic space. On its way between New York and London, the Tau ship Elektron, slips into the theoretical Omega phase and becomes stuck in atomic space The controllers in London attempt to find away to retrieve them, whilst the passengers find themselves in a realm of nightmares.

Lambda 1 was not a short story I had personally rated highly (although Mark Yon gave it 4 stars) but the uniqueness of this play from the others in 1966 makes it memorable and shocking. It is probably destined to be one of the most controversial of the series entries, where viewers will either love or hate it. Personally, I came down on the positive side, appreciating the attempt to do something different, even if I didn’t quite understand all of it.

Into the Known

Irene Shubik
Irene Shubik

So, a strong season overall; however, I do believe it could have benefited from more variety as we had in the first run. Robots and Orwellian fiction are a key part of SF, but we have seen this show can do space voyages, time travel or alien encounters just as well.

Another season has been already confirmed and it is planned to be broadcast in colour later this year. Whilst news has emerged that Shubik is moving on to running the BBC’s top anthology slot, The Wednesday Play, she has said she will not leave her current post until all the scripts are in place for a third series. This should hopefully avoid any delays and the future looks bright for Britain’s premiere science fiction television show.

Doctor Who
Sorry Doctor Who!



[March 8, 1967] Absolute perfection (Star Trek: "This Side of Paradise")


by Gideon Marcus

The place: Omicron Ceti 3.

The hazard: A lethal showering of Berthold Rays, destructive to all animal tissue.

The mission: The Enterprise has the sad duty of following up on a new Omicron colony, where there are unlikely to be any survivors.

Yet, when the starship arrives, the colonists are not only alive and well, but in perfect health.  Too perfect–even scars and excised organs are healed.  Colony head Elias Sandoval talks of the new paradise they have found, and he flatly refuses to leave the planet.  If only the Earthers knew what they were missing, they'd understand.

They soon do.  First Mr. Spock, then the rest of the landing party, and finally the entire crew of the Enterprise succumb to the same spell as the Omicronites.  All facilitated by a particular plant (fungus) that has taken root on Omicron.  Each of the humans is hit by a shotgun blast of spores, and immediately they feel a burst of contentment and connection with their fellows, as well as an overriding urge to live on the planet. Spock, in particular, has extra incentive to stay: for the first time, he is capable of expressing love, and one of the colonists is a scientist who has held a torch for the Vulcanian for the past six years.


Love in the green grass.

Kirk, whether through happenstance or strong will, is the last to be infected by the Omicron disease.  Nevertheless, fall under the spell he does, leaving a moment of utter bathos for the viewer.  Is all lost?

But we know Jim Kirk.  This has happened to him before, in "The Naked Time".  In the end, his love of his ship (which is not just the girders, engines, and phasers, but also the people who crew it) snaps him out of his Lotus-Eating trance.  Realizing that violent emotions are the key to breaking the hold of the spores, the captain beams Spock back aboard the vacant ship and hurls insult after insult at his first officer until the ensuing scuffle returns Spock to sanity.


A risky and painful maneuver.

Together, they then induce irritation in the colony members and deserted crew on the planet through a subsonic communicator transmission.  A mass fracas breaks out, freeing the humans from the thrall of the spores.  A much-chagrined Sandoval realizes that he and his people have accomplished nothing in the three years they have been on the planet, but produce minimal food and tend to the spore-plants.  He accedes to Kirk's orders, and the colony is abandoned.  Paradise lost, indeed.

This is the story in thumbnail, of course.  I am leaving it to my colleagues to expand upon the myriad aspects of this episode that make it so brilliant.  We've seen elements of this plot before: the stagnant, placid society with an external controller was just seen in "Return of the Archons".  The members of the crew acting uncharacteristically emotional/somewhat intoxicated was explored in "The Naked Time".  But the execution of these married threads, the bared souls of our favorite characters, the implications, both technological and philosophical, all are eminently fascinating.

This is my favorite episode of Trek yet.  Five stars.


To thine own self be true


by Abigail Beaman

I would like to start off by noting that I have not seen the earlier episode, "The Naked Time", and from what I’ve heard, these two episodes are extremely similar. Which in all honesty, is sad, as I very much enjoyed this episode and hate the idea that it might be a retread. I also feel that, if I had seen "The Naked Time", I might have a lot more to say, but alas you’ll be getting whatever crummy ideas come to my head based on my incomplete knowledge.

Now even though I missed Naked Time, I’ve also heard (as I am a doll who fancies a bit of tittle-tattle) the episodes may air over the summer! So if you missed any Star Trek episodes (and I pray that you haven’t like I have) free up your schedule now for the reruns during 1967’s summer! Now back to the topic at hand.


Pull up a chair.

How would you describe Mister Lieutenant Commander Spock? Would you say he’s stoic? Or maybe the word emotionless comes to mind? My impression of the half-human, half-Vulcanian, is that Spock is a calm, logical, and controlled being who is amazingly portrayed by Leonard Nimoy. He in fact plays the normally cold Spock so well, that, seeing Leonard Nimoy happy and swinging on a tree was actually extremely off-putting for me (although I did love seeing Nimoy smile)!


Spock, just hanging around.

What I’m trying to say is that Spock is a being who simply can’t or won’t show emotions. That’s who he is, who he wants to be (and who I've come to fully accept). Now we don’t know if Spock has ever shown emotions, but none of the Enterprise or past co-workers for that matter, has seen Spock show emotions (except, I hear, in that "Naked Time" episode…). They all knew it was due to his Vulcanian heritage, and that Vulcanians either don’t feel emotions or flat out avoid them. When he gets sprayed with the spores, we see Spock show pain, as he seems to be fighting back his emotions, and even if it isn’t physical pain and just him trying to prevent showing even a sliver of emotion doesn’t that tell you something? He doesn’t want his emotions. To him emotions are illogical. Perhaps, even shameful.


Love hurts.

I haven’t forgotten the elephant in the room, that being Leila. While yes I want Spock to be happy (as his wife, I want the best for him always), Leila is not the girl for him. What she wants can never be achieved. She wanted to change Spock into someone who would love her, but that wouldn't be Spock. Even when she is off the spores (drug parlance intended), and knows what they did to her mind, she still wants to be on them so she can be happy and love Spock without all the pain it brings her. That’s why I feel nothing but pity for her. At the end of the episode she does, in fact, accept that Spock is who Spock wants to be. He is in his own “self-made purgatory” and so is she. Spock’s is to shun emotions, while hers is being in love with a man who shuns emotions.


"We all live in our own self-made Purgatories…"

That’s why one of the biggest lines uttered in this episode, “For the first time in my life, I was happy” feels like a stab in the back to fans (and might I say lovers) of Spock. Some people believe it’s Spock being wistful for an emotion he felt, at last, and can no longer feel again (and it’s torturous, to say the least, as a wife of Spock, to know I can't make him happy), but I would argue Spock is instead ashamed of showing that emotion. It’s something he has, and will likely continue to actively avoid his whole life. He was happy, but at what cost? Being happy isn’t Spock. Being logical and computerized is Spock. He is in his own “self-made purgatory”, and it seems Spock is himself, when in it.


Not happy, but at least, perhaps, satisfied.

This episode did have some downers, like the introduction of spores being able to regrow organs, and the crew just sorta saying “doesn’t matter, let’s leave”, but it’s a solid episode I can get behind. I would rate this episode a high 4.5 stars.


Debating Paradise in a Vacuum


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

What would you give to have perfect health and no worries? At first glance, it looks like Sandoval and the colonists have it all figured out. There’s no clear reason as to why they should leave, but Kirk says otherwise. Is he right? Initially he wanted to save them from the radiation. Yet, he continues to press the matter even after he quickly discovers it’s no longer a threat, which leads me to believe that his version of paradise is not the same as Sandoval’s.


Sandoval's paradise.

Kirk’s version of paradise requires some type of progress. For him, living in a world without it might be the furthest thing from paradise, but that’s not necessarily true for others. How does Kirk know what kind of progress is acceptable? Sandoval just wanted to build a garden. Couldn’t that also be considered progress? If one is content with life, isn’t achieving enlightenment a form of paradise? Does Kirk have the right to take that away from someone?


Kirk's paradise.

On the surface, one could interpret this episode as yet another bout of Kirk imposing his ideals and beliefs onto other cultures. But is it? Where “Return of the Archons” fails, “This Side of Paradise” succeeds, giving us a slightly different perspective where (I believe) Kirk’s intrusion is warranted. In both episodes, everyone is under some influence that causes them to behave in a way that is abnormal, and though the difference is subtle, it makes all the difference. In “Return of the Archons”, there’s an already existing culture. They’ve been living this way for a very long time, and the only justification for interference is that an uprising might well have been inevitable; Kirk just sped up the process. In “This Side of Paradise”, however, the colonists had desires and goals before they came under the influence of the spores. Kirk’s interference was necessary to break the colonists free from behaving out of the norm, and that none chose to go back to the spore-drugged existence is telling. Of course, one could argue that Spock and Kalomi might have been perfectly happy together (indeed, Spock implies it would be the only way he could be happy), but Spock chose a different path in the end.

There is a clear anti-drug metaphor in this episode, which I appreciate. It’s not much of a paradise to me if you’re not in your right mind and don’t have the capacity to make decisions for yourself. It may have made them physically healthy, but mentally, it was a different story. Then again, maybe ignorance is bliss.

Five stars


The Best of the Best


by Janice L. Newman

I have to agree with my friends above: this was one of the best episodes of Star Trek yet. As I watched I was drawn into the emotional core of the story, but I also couldn’t help but note how well crafted it was. The writing, the pacing, and the carefully set up reveals were very, very well done.

One sequence stands out in particular. Kirk, having avoided being infected by the spores, makes his way to the bridge. He encounters one of the flowers that his own crew have brought aboard, and tosses it aside in a rage. Several scenes later, he returns to the empty bridge and sits there, alone, expressing to the uncaring computer his frustration, helplessness and grief at the loss of his crew. And just as the audience thinks Kirk has reached the lowest point and are wondering how–nay, expecting that he’s going to turn things around…he gets hit with a blast of spores from the forgotten flower. It’s masterful.

This script was also particularly well-written, with memorable lines like, “I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's.” And although the music was once again mostly recycled from earlier episodes, it was carefully integrated: the musical stings and cues emphasized the action without overwhelming it.

This episode is one of the best examples of how different Star Trek is from other so-called science fiction shows on television. It’s a nuanced, bittersweet story written for adults, and as such, it’s already miles ahead of Time Tunnel and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. Maybe even The Twilight Zone. I cannot wait to see what the Star Trek writers, actors, and directors come up with next.

Five stars.


Too Many Shirts


by Erica Frank

This is Sulu's third incident of mind-altering effects resulting in bliss. If this keeps up, he's going to become known as the Enterprise's resident accidental "stoner." (He is a botanist, after all…) I suppose the need for agricultural labor kept his shirt on this time. Pity.


Happy Sulu

Nobody else is shirtless in this episode either. Is the planet a bit chilly? Are there no nudists aboard the Enterprise? Does Kirk only lose his shirt to violence, never to joy? And even the spores cannot overcome Spock's modesty. Such a shame.

Setting aside the emotional effects, the spores have tremendous medical possibilities. Surely Starfleet will want to study them—a plant that protects people from deadly radiation and heals past injuries? Incredible! Side effects include… happiness and contentment? What an amazing retirement colony Omicron Ceti 3 could be!


"And they've got shuffleboard at 3:30!"

Of course, in order to get such a place built, they'd need a way to regularly snap people out of the influence. The colonists have managed to sustain themselves but failed at their development plans. Also, we saw no children on this "colony" planet. That may be one of the other side effects of the pollen—one that would prevent it from functioning as a growing colony, but could be a tremendous benefit for a medical center or retirement home.

Alternatively, it could become a prison planet: used to house violent offenders who've been deemed to have no hope of integration with society. Would Khan's people have accepted this planet instead? I suppose Kirk would consider that a "waste of potential." And the Federation itself may have uses for this one.

The Federation should immediately start researching how to set up a permanent center, possibly with a starbase in orbit to snap key personnel out of their euphoric stupor. Perhaps the ground crews would wear gas masks while residents breathe freely. Of course, there are the deadly Berthold Rays to consider: the spores give immunity; anyone without them is limited to short-term visits. But even with that problem, I'd expect the Federation to value a planet where people return to perfect health while living in blissful peace.

Unless there are some unknown after-effects that McCoy failed to discover, OC3 seems like a wonderful planet, just not suited for the plan the Federation originally had for it.

It would, however, be delightfully suited for a planet-wide Be-In, a sprawling agrarian society with no violence (no ambition, I can hear Kirk's voice in my mind), no competition (no innovation), no war (no progress). And—if the settlement were in the warmer parts of the planet—no shirts.

Five stars; this one leaves me with happy thoughts, even though I know the possibilities will probably be ignored.


This Side of Potential


by Robin Rose Graves

After the episode’s close, I realized the true message and how the spores are ultimately nothing more than a device through which to convey it. This is a topical episode, representative of the issues that plague us now: the false respite of heroin abuse, the sirensong of Communism. Social commentary absolutely has a place in science fiction, and I don’t entirely hate how this episode is shaped by the message it tries to get across, but I feel it’s at the sacrifice of further exploring the fascinating nature of the spores.

In order to maintain a symbiotic relationship with humans, the spores keep their hosts alive in an environment that would otherwise kill them within a week. In return, the humans cultivate the plants that release these spores. The strangest part of all, this is posed as a problem rather than a brilliant discovery.

The spores not only kept the colony in perfect health for three years, but allowed them to regenerate organs as well as allowed humans to live on the planet despite the presence of harmful Berthold rays. I can’t help but think these plants are the perfect tool for the spacefaring crew of the Enterprise. It would allow them to venture on planets with otherwise hostile environments and to provide lifesaving medical treatment crew probably couldn’t even receive in a hospital, let alone on a starship.

This has been part of a trend I’ve noticed in Star Trek. Interesting ideas are introduced when convenient and abandoned the moment they no longer serve the story they’re trying to tell. Androids. Planetary computers. Time travel (twice!) This, of course, is a symptom of television's episodic nature, necessary to a degree so one doesn't necessarily have to watch all of it to understand what's going on.

Yet it still frustrates. Perhaps even more frustrating is when it happens with characters – particularly whenever there is a female guest star. In this episode, it’s Leila, a woman who has a history with Spock that has never been mentioned before this moment (and I have full confidence will never be referenced again as the story progresses), and who just so happens to be on Omicron Ceti 3.


It was nice knowing you, Leila. I'm sure we won't see you again.

We’ve seen the same thing happen with random past love interests appearing and disappearing in episodes “What are Little Girls Made Of,” (Chapel's Roger Korby) “Shore Leave” (Kirk's Ruth), “Court Martial” (Kirl's Areel Shaw) and even in the series debut episode “The Man Trap” (McCoy's Nancy). Not only is this giving us flat female characters and then sweeping them aside the moment they are no longer needed, but it is also cheating our male characters of development as well. If the series isn’t going to explore the science of its world, at least it could give better attention to its fascinating cast of characters. I say that out of love, because I like the crew (maybe not Kirk so much…) and I want to know more about them, but Star Trek isn’t delivering.

I give this episode 4 stars for what it did, but not 5, because I know what it never can.



Next episode promises to be very different.  Join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for a Star Trek:

Here's the invitation–beware the Blob!