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[November 8, 1968] A Diplomatic Tiger by the Tail ("Day of the Dove")

November 8, 2023 Amber Dubin 4 Comments

by Amber Dubin

As a Captain, James T. Kirk has always been known more as a soldier than a diplomat. In the same way that Captain Kirk was forced to move past his initial, violent, problem-solving instincts in "Spectre of a Gun," here, yet another great and powerful alien species drops the crew of the Enterprise into direct contact with a combative, unreasonable opponent, making him take a "diplomatic tiger by the tail" that Captain Kirk must use every tool in his skill set to tame.

The setup is masterfully crafted from the very beginning by what appears to be a solitary alien made of pure energy that presents as a wheel of twinkling lights. Twinkling alien energy, who I will refer to from now on as TAE, is not invisible, but takes pains to silently hover just out of direct line of sight from every group of combatants it takes interest in. The Enterprise does not notice TAE on its first appearance when they beam down to an uninhabited planet, searching for what was supposed to be the ruins of a recently destroyed colony described in a distress signal. Chekov remarks, in confusion, that his readings indicate that there was no evidence of a colony nor an attack. Before the crew has time to process this information, Sulu chimes in over the communicator, warning him that a Klingon ship is approaching. Said ship immediately starts showing signs of distress, quickly becoming disabled by internal explosions to which the Enterprise made no contribution.

Commander Kang, the Klingon starship captain, makes no attempt to understand his situation; he beams down and decks Captain Kirk, yelling that since the federation has committed an act of war against the Klingons by killing 400 of his crew and disabling his ship, he is owed command of the Enterprise. TAE glows a menacing red color, apparently delighted with the increase in hostility. Thus the stage is set before the first credits roll of this episode.

The episode's opening salvo

Captain Kirk displays his newfound diplomatic skills, engaging in dialogue with someone whose assault just knocked him flat on his back. When Kang again demands that Kirk cede control of the Enterprise, our captain calmly replies, “go to the Devil.” Kang smoothly retorts “We have no Devil, Kirk, but we understand the habits of yours,“ whom he intends to emulate by torturing crewmen until Kirk hands over control of his ship.

Suddenly, a strange look comes over Chekov’s face and he jumps at the Klingon commander, practically volunteering to be first on the torture block, incoherently yelling about needing revenge for his brother, Pyotr, who had been killed on the colony they never found. In another clever manipulation, Captain Kirk gets Kang to agree to cease torturing Chekov by promising to beam the Klingons aboard the Enterprise, assuring him that there will be no tricks once they are on the ship. Of course, phrasing it like this left a loophole where he wouldn’t be lying if beaming the Klingons up was the trick—they are stuck in stasis until guards can round them up. Back on the Enterprise, Kirk quarantines the angry Klingon landing party with their distressed ship's remaining crewmen stranded.

A gaggle of steaming-mad Klingons

Before our heroes can figure out what’s going, the Enterprise crewmen start falling one by one under the same spell of violent madness that seized Chekov down on the colony site. Unlike with the Klingon crewmen, this wave of violence is very out of character for the Enterprise crew, and they turn on each other using racist, species-ist and otherwise highly offensive rhetoric against each other, the likes of which hasn’t been used on earth in centuries at this point. Chekov even goes on a slathering rampage where he outright defies Captain Kirk and goes to attack the Klingons to avenge his slain brother. This strangeness becomes particularly significant when Sulu declares that Chekov doesn’t even have a brother, as he's an only child.

Chekov disobeys a direct order.

Captain Kirk does the best job of fighting through the madness in order to refocus each crewman one by one towards finding out the root of the issue at hand. It is eventually surmised that TAE is on board, spurring the crewmen to fight and feeding off the negative emotions when its manipulations work and they get at each other’s throats. It is soon discovered that TAE is even more dangerous than originally feared, as it not only can influence the memories and emotions of its victims, but it also has the ability to warp reality itself, healing the scars of the wounded and turning nearly every object at everyone’s disposal into swords, deliberately making every weapon just inefficient enough to prolong conflict and minimize potential fatalities.

Bread and circuses, redux.

In typical Kirk fashion, the seriousness of TAE’s threat doesn’t fully hit him until a female is affected; Kang’s wife, his ship's Science Officer, gets separated from the rest of the group and is set-upon by a completely rabid Chekov. He rips her clothes, but thankfully is interrupted by Kirk and the bridge crew before he can go further. Kirk is justifiably horrified that TAE would be more than willing to push his crew towards that kind of violence. After incapacitating Chekov, Kirk entreats Kang’s wife to join him in uniting her husband and the rest of the Klingons against the real enemy; and it is with great difficulty that he does finally change Kang’s mind and get him to call the rest of the Klingons to a truce. In the end, it’s Kang’s words that finally eject TAE from the ship, as he taunts ”we need no urging to hate humans… only a fool fights in a burning house”

United in defiance.

While it is obvious to see that this episode is once again making a political commentary of our time, this one doesn't rub me the wrong way because the character foils have been fleshed out enough to be likable. Straw men have a tendency to be hollow and weak, but Kang and his wife Mara are anything but that. The Klingons may be violent and aggressive on their face, but they justify their actions with a strong moral backbone and end up proving themselves capable of being reasoned with. Michael Ansara's tremendous presence of voice and body does a phenomenal job of making Commander Kang a formidable yet worthy foe. No slouch herself, Mara shows that she is a leader in her own right, making Kirk work almost as hard to change her mind as her husband's, along the way making some very solid points about Klingon foreign policy. If anything, the Klingons are made to be anti-heroes rather than villains, and in constantly having to take their side against his own men, Kirk shows us the value of humanizing one's enemy, even when that enemy is not human at all.

5 stars.

by Janice L. Newman

When entertainment takes a stance on politics or morality, it’s often a recipe for a bad story. There are plenty of classic parables and fables, of course, but when popular television gets involved in such things sometimes the lesson feels shoehorned in or the plot feels warped around the ‘message’ the writer wanted to send. For example, The Omega Glory and A Private Little War were both attempts to make a point about current political situations, and both were subpar episodes.

“Day of the Dove”, on the other hand, does it right.

This is not a subtle story, yet it maintains a clever mystery plot and dramatic tension right up to the end. The denouement carries a powerful message that I found both shocking and welcome. Shocking, because I didn’t expect to see such blatant anti-war sentiments expressed on prime-time TV. [Janice doesn't watch the Smothers Bros. (ed)] Welcome, because I feel the same way.

There are plenty of intense moments throughout the episode, but the message can be summed up in a few lines of dialogue:

KIRK: All right. All right. In the heart. In the head. I won't stay dead. Next time I'll do the same to you. I'll kill you. And it goes on, the good old game of war, pawn against pawn! Stopping the bad guys. While somewhere, something sits back and laughs and starts it all over again.
MCCOY: Let's jump him.
SPOCK: Those who hate and fight must stop themselves, Doctor. Otherwise, it is not stopped.
MARA: Kang, I am your wife. I'm a Klingon. Would I lie for them? Listen to Kirk. He is telling the truth.
KIRK: Be a pawn, be a toy, be a good soldier that never questions orders.
(Kang looks at the weird light, then throws down his sword.)
KANG: Klingons kill for their own purposes.

(Transcript courtesey of chakoteya.)

There is so much conveyed within these few lines. In the context of the rest of the episode, they inspire all sorts of thoughts and questions:

“Question orders.” “Is it wrong to participate in unjust wars?” “Who is benefitting from our wars?” “Who stands to profit and has a vested interest in keeping a war going?” “Are the people with a vested interest also in authority? Do they have control over those in authority?” “Refuse to fight if a war is wrong.” “War may always be wrong.” “Total pacifism may be a possible path.” “If we do not stop hating and fighting, the hating and fighting will not stop.”

These are messages which, if spelled out clearly in almost any other kind of television show, would be unlikely to be allowed on the air. At a time when young men who choose to flee the country rather than accept being drafted are being convicted of treason, telling people to question orders and refuse to fight is risky. Yet the futuristic setting provided by science fiction makes it possible to convey these ideas without the hidebound network pulling the plug or insisting that it be changed. I’m just stunned that Gene Roddenberry let it through, especially after his reputed heavy influence on the script for A Private Little War. I’m not saying I want Star Trek to turn into a ‘message’ show, but I wouldn’t mind a few more episodes like this.

Five stars.

A Third Party

by Lorelei Marcus

As Janice put it, “Day of the Dove” is a ‘message episode’. It’s there to tell you something about life today under the guise of the possible future. Yet unlike my compatriots who saw a cautionary tale of ceaseless fighting in Vietnam and the larger Cold War behind it, I saw a different war entirely.

Star Trek has rarely shown racial tensions between humans and aliens of the Federation. When it is done, it’s for a very specific purpose, like Kirk aggravating Spock in This Side of Paradise. Even the Federation’s disdain for the Romulans and Klingons has less to do with xenophobia and more the fact that neither will agree to reasonable peace terms. Hence why the blatant hatred between not only human and Klingon, but also human and Vulcan, is so jarringly effective in this episode.

Star Trek is the ideal, bigotry-free future—Uhura and Sulu and even Chekov on the bridge are proof of that—but “Day of the Dove” is the closest it gets to reflecting the ugliness of racial tensions in our own world. Cloaked in the veneer of alien and human terms, I saw the hostility and lack of compromise inherent to the Democratic Convention this year, the hatred from man to man over superficial traits.

A scene from the Democratic convention—taken from the Nixon ad that aired during the episode.

Most of all, I saw small prejudices being stoked and inflamed by an outside force, turning anger boiling hot until it nearly exploded into bloody violence. I know that too well. Every step towards peace and equality we take gets slid back when another Wallace or Nixon comes along. Every injustice we commit against the Black man is another reason for him to take a rifle to the streets. Every school that fails to integrate is a generation of Whites who can’t see past the color of skin. And yet, that’s just how Wallace and his ilk want it. They benefit from it.

Wallace preaching hatred from the pulpit.

Perhaps that’s the scariest part: at least in the show, the alien seems to be fomenting hatred out of a need to feed, a necessity. Our politicians do it in the complete service of self-interest. And with the results of the election, tragically, we seem to be dancing right in the palms of their hands.

I often see shades of our world reflected in Star Trek, but never so viscerally. 4 stars.

Go to the Devil

by Joe Reid

“Day of the Dove” was this week’s episode of Star Trek. On first reading that title it evoked religious themes in my mind. I wondered if Star Trek was getting preachy again, the dove being the Christian representation of the Holy Spirit. Like in “Bread and Circuses” where the crew was jubilant that the people of the planet worshiped the son of God. When TV shows try to pass on spiritual virtues, they tend to do it in a ham-fisted way. “Day of the Dove”, although not perfect, does a decent job passing on two themes that I learned in my own religious training. One from the book of Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 12. The other from First Peter, chapter 5, verse 8. So permit me to put on my chaplain's robes as I explore the religious themes I saw in “Day of the Dove”.

Ephesians 6:12 says, “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” The crew of the Enterprise and that of the Klingon ship were made to think that they were enemies. Expertly manipulated and set upon by another, with the intent to have them fight. The real enemy was the outside force. A powerful alien entity that understood the fears, thoughts, emotions, and technology of each side to create opportunities for conflict. This scripture I quoted explains that no flesh and blood human is your enemy; we are all victims of outside forces that use us against one another. As hard as it was for Kirk and Kang to see that they were being used, it is so much harder for all of us to see that we are literally killing ourselves when we raise arms to harm others. All that does is satisfy the real enemy, that of our very souls.

The second verse that came to mind in this episode, 1 Peter 5:8 says, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour”. At the start of the episode, Kirk told Kang to “Go to the devil!” when Kang slapped Kirk, accusing him of crimes, claiming the Enterprise. As they left that planet, we saw that Kang didn’t have to go to the devil, because a space devil went back to the ship with them. The alien, always near the action, remained just out of sight. It stalked the crew, looking for minds to twist to meet its ends. Kirk displayed powerful sobriety, breaking free from the influence of the alien. Although he could not see the alien, he was able to know of its presence and resist its influence. The message for us is that it takes sober vigilance to prevent wrong actions that may damage other’s lives. It was awareness of the enemy that helped Kirk stay disaster; it may be awareness that people are not the enemy that may help us.

Kirk prepares to preach to the choir.

This episode read like a sermon. One that encouraged brotherhood over bitterness. Which brings us to the close of the episode and yet another verse that came to my mind watching it. That was James 4:7. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” This was the method Kirk and Kang used to get rid of the unwanted alien influence. They stopped giving it what it wanted, stopped seeing each other as the enemy and told their dancehall mirror ball devil to leave the ship. With both Kirk and Kang saying GO to their devil.

In conclusion, “Day of the Dove” was well acted. It had great costumes and good characterizations of all characters. Sadly, the dialogue at one point was filled with exposition, explaining to the audience what the alien was even though no one explained it to them, which I never love. It caused me to knock the score down a couple of points, but that is to be expected when TV shows—and reviewers—get preachy.

Three stars

Only in the movies

by Gideon Marcus

Despite being a show set in the far future of the 22nd Century, Star Trek has always employed themes from our current era. This has never been truer than in episodes involving the Klingons, the chief adversary of the Federation for which Kirk's Enterprise is employed.

In Errand of Mercy, we saw Commander Kor and Captain Kirk stand shoulder to shoulder, united in their defiance of the superpowerful Organians, who had the temerity to deprive them of their "right" to fight. The threat of the Organians to demolish both adversaries should they escalate their conflict to a general war, was very much a metaphor for the atomic bomb—specifically the newly minted concept of "Mutual Assured Destruction."

Thus, "The Trouble with Tribbles", "Friday's Child", and "A Private Little War"—the Klingons and Federation now fight proxy wars, engage in cloak and dagger exploits, and occasionally skirmish one-on-one. That last title was very much a product of last year, when it looked like we might "win" in Vietnam. Kirk asserted that the only way to prosecute the conflict on the planet of Neural was to arm the hill people so they remain at parity with the Klingon-aided townsfolks.

Contrast that to "Day of the Dove". Kirk and the Klingon commander (beautifully portrayed by "Mr. Barbara Eden", Michael Ansara) once more stand back to back, but they are resisting the urge to fight. It is a beautiful bit of synchronicity that LBJ the night before airdate announced a full bombing pause on Vietnam after three years of incessance. I watched the episode with tears in my eyes: for once, the hope matched the reality. Maybe we were going to stop the cycle of violence after all.

Would that it could always be this easy.

But Trek is science fiction, and we still live in the real world. Dick Nixon won the election this week, South Vietnam has retracted its willingness to participate in the Paris peace talks, and the beat goes on.

This is the second episode in a row (the first being "Spectre of the Gun") that has featured a new Kirk, a diplomat first and a soldier second. I like this new Kirk. I worry that he will run afoul of his superiors, increasingly conflicted, as John Drake was when working for MI6, ultimately becoming The Prisoner. But at least he's fighting for peace, a fight I can 100% get behind.

It's not a perfect episode, a little heavy-handed in parts, but boy did it resonate.

Four stars.

[Come join us tonight (November 8th) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek! KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings at 8pm Eastern and Pacific. You won't want to miss it…]

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 31, 1968] How the Western was won (Star Trek: "Spectre of the Gun")

October 31, 2023 Janice L. Newman 5 Comments

by Janice L. Newman

This is Not a Test

Star Trek continues to surf the New Wave in this week’s episode, Spectre of the Gun. While the plot incorporated many things we’ve seen before (both in and outside of Star Trek) it combined and presented these elements in new and innovative ways.

The story opens with the ship encountering a strange object floating in space. All of the crew receive a message, ‘hearing’ it in the language they are most familiar with: Vulcan for Spock, Russian for Chekov, and in a nice call back to earlier episodes, Swahili for Uhura. The message warns them to stay away from the area. The crew, under orders to make contact with the Melkotians (the race who left the warning) choose to disregard it and beam down to the planet. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and Chekov make up the team.

The Melkotian buoy—to Trek's credit, they didn't simply reuse the music from The Corbomite Maneuver

Shortly after they arrive on the planet, a threatening figure appears. It’s one of the aliens, a Melkot. It tells them that they will be punished for disregarding their warning. Since Captain Kirk is in charge, their deaths will be ‘patterned’ on him.

Aliens can be difficult to render convincingly on television, but I was impressed at how effective the Melkot is. The image is of two glowing eyes piercing through a surrounding haze and the suggestion of a bulbous, hairless head on a stalk-like, armless body. Since it’s surrounded by mist and weird lighting, we don’t get a close look at it, which adds to the menacing quality and keeps it from feeling fake or cheesy.

No sooner does the Melkot pronounce judgment, than the five men find themselves in the middle of a western town. Except, it’s not a fully-realized town. It’s made up of pieces of scenery, just enough to suggest a town in broad strokes. It puts one in mind of a theatrical production, where a facade is used to represent a building and one can see inside a shop or house. It’s unsettling in this context: signs and clocks hang on empty air, and unlike the actors in a musical, the crew are well-aware that the buildings are unfinished.

Open air bar

It takes a few minutes and an interaction with one of the ‘locals’ to jog his memory, but Captain Kirk puts the pieces together to deduce that the setup represents the shootout at the O.K. Corral. He and his men are the Clanton brothers, destined to die to bullets shot by the Earps and Doc Holiday. Bullets that will kill them, as they discover when Chekov is shot down in the street.

Our heroes try to avoid their fate through diplomacy, trickery, and ‘the better part of valor’. Nothing works, not even the sleeping gas bomb that McCoy and Spock build together. But the fact that it doesn’t work when it should have worked convinces Spock that none of what they are experiencing is real. The bullets cannot hurt them, he tells the others, unless they believe they will.

In order to make sure the humans are all as convinced that the bullets are harmless as Spock is, he mind melds with each of them in turn. Then they stand, unworried, as they’re shot at. The fence behind them is filled with holes, but they, as Spock promised, are unharmed. Afterward Kirk has the opportunity to kill the Earps and Holiday, but chooses not to, even though he badly wants revenge for Chekov. The Melkotians, surprised at Kirk’s choice, agree to open diplomatic relations with the Federation.

A touching moment

We’ve seen a lot of these bits and pieces before. Westerns are ubiquitous, and the story of the shootout at Tombstone is an oft-visited well for modern-day storytellers. But how many of them cast the Clantons as the good guys? We’ve seen the Vulcan mind meld before, but never on multiple people in turn, and never to convince them of the unreality of their senses. We’ve seen powerful, telepathic aliens before. But unlike many of the others, the Melkotians aren’t messing around with the humans for their own amusement, or to protect us from ourselves, or to ‘test’ us. It’s clear that they don’t expect the humans to survive the punishment, and that they’re shocked that Kirk chooses not to kill the aggressors in the end. Whether the form of punishment was meant to be humane, giving the humans a familiar setting to die in, or whether it was supposed to remove the weight of responsibility from the Melkotians by forcing the humans into a ‘kill or be killed’ situation, or whether it was for some other reason entirely, we cannot know.

What we do know is that these familiar pieces fit together to make an entirely new kind of story, one that’s clever, compelling, and up there with the best of the Star Trek episodes we’ve seen.

Five stars.

Best Western

by Amber Dubin

I was pleasantly surprised that this episode marked another in the inspiring trend of season 3 episodes that absolutely knocked my socks off. The overarching premise is nothing special on its face: a shadowy, menacing entity issues an ominous warning a-la-Dante's-Inferno "abandon all hope, ye who enter here." Kirk promptly ignores the warning buoy, charging head-first into danger like the reckless adventurer we know him to be, and at first we appear to be treated to another "Catspaw"-like simulation with a western twist. This is where the similarities end between the season 2 and season 3 Halloween episodes, because this time around, the simulated world is much more intricate, meaningful and all around well-crafted.

Starting with the aliens' motivation for submerging the crew in this simulation, they explain that "you bring violence like a disease." This is a very valid threat and makes a lot of sense that the Melkotians would want to have this simulation in place to protect their planet from approaching unknown cultural contaminants.The crewmen have already refused to heed the initial warning, so it could hardly be called an escalation to issue this execution edict as judgment for their trespass. They prove themselves to be much more fair judges than some of the other alien species we've encountered, because they essentially allow a loophole in their trial, wherein the participants have one final chance to prove themselves worthy of access to their planet. It is fair too, that they design the interactive tribunal from details found within Kirk's mind, as it was Kirk that chose to disobey their warning and therefore Kirk should bear the bulk of the responsibility for their punishment.

Here come the Judge(s)

This is the first time, in my opinion, that they have found a valid reason to recreate ancient American history, as Captain Kirk has always been a stand-in for the audience's 1960's perspective, and one of the points in our history that Americans enjoy recreating most in film and fiction at this time is the Wild West. This time, incorporating our perspective is neatly explained by saying that Kirk has both the genetic memories of ancient North Americans from this era, and memories from his fan-crazed obsession with all things historical and fictional from American History. I even found it radically creative that the director manages to elegantly justify the half-finished western set pieces, as it was not only necessary that the crew know that the simulation was false, but also it was encouraged that they use that to their advantage to beat the system.

I also love that the trial that the crew endures this time is branded not as a trial but as an execution, further setting up the crew to fail as they would be inclined to see it as an inescapable punishment rather than an simulation whose outcome they could influence. The Melkotians may well have hoped the humans would fail. Certainly, they were surprised when they didn't.

I'm particularly impressed that this episode got me to do something I previously thought unthinkable: enjoy western-themed television.

5 stars

Unexpected Diplomacy

by Lorelei Marcus

Captain Kirk took an unexpectedly persistent talk-before-phasers approach to interacting with the Melkotians and their executioner puppets. At the beginning of the episode, he mentions the importance of contacting the Melkotians and implies the goal of peacefully adding them to the Federation. Given the importance of the mission, and our Enterprise captain's previous track record handling aliens, I can only imagine the training exercise Star Fleet put Kirk through to prepare him for his task:

"Alright, Captain. On the table, you will see a phaser and a communicator. The scenario is you are attempting to make contact with a peaceful alien species. Please choose the object you feel is best suited for this situation."

(Kirk reaches for the phaser and is shocked with an electric buzzer.)

"Ouch!"

"Please choose again."

(Rubbing at his wrist, Kirk reaches for the communicator this time. A green light turns on and a pleasant song starts playing.)

"Very good, Captain. Onto the next task…"

"I can't just kill them! I won't get any candy!"

In any case, I found this episode to be quite fun, particularly our new, diplomatic captain. Four stars.

We Come in Peace

by Erica Frank

"We come in peace," said Kirk… as he raised his phaser. No wonder the Melkot didn't believe him.

The Melkotians were clear that they wanted no part of the Federation. When the Enterprise decided to visit anyway –"establish contact at all costs"–the Melkotians were ready for them. (Kirk, you did establish contact; you met and conversed, and their response was No. If you meant "establish regular communications and diplomatic negotiations," well, that dance takes two willing partners.)

Kirk and his team wound up somewhere that looked more like a movie set or a stage play than an actual town. They thought this was "the Melkotians' idea of a town" rather than "a construct taking place in our own minds," despite having substantial experience with powerful telepaths who can make them experience entire landscapes that don't actually exist.

Why did it take them half the episode to attempt to leave town and discover the force field blocking their exit?

They spent most of their time trying to figure out how to get out of the impending gunfight, instead of looking for loopholes in the "reality" that they should recognize as false. However, even as they accepted the storyline they're stuck in, Kirk looked for ways to avoid the ending.

I don't know if he insisted on not fighting the Earps because he honestly believes it's wrong, or because he recognized that, in this story, once the shooting starts, his entire team will be killed.

They passed the Melkotians' test by refusing to shoot. (…Spock's getting awfully free with the mind-melds, recently.) I'm not sure I'd accept the results: Kirk knew that there was no way to win a shoot-out. Perhaps that was the point–not, "prove you are a non-violent species" (obviously not true), but "prove to us that you can find other ways to solve problems."

I like the Melkotians. They're only the third near-omnipotent aliens we've met that aren't petty tyrants. The Metron had a similar test, making Kirk fight the Gorn–they, too, were pleasantly surprised that Kirk found a way around killing. And we never learned the name of the race that built the Shore Leave planet.

Four stars.

I suppose he is the "Spectre of the Guns."

A Near-Shakespearean Paen for Nonviolence

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

With death served up on the doorstep with the morning paper, I needed this episode this week. Bracketed by political campaign ads crowing about violence in various cities and jungles, I found Kirk's passionate nonviolence struck a powerful chord. The episode's overall contrast with the morning death toll was satisfying but somehow it was Commander Spock's cool lines that I loved the most.

"A radical alteration of our thought patterns must be in order."

In that moment, the episode twists reality to reach the profound fantasies of those of us whose loved ones are – or tomorrow will – lay in the grave, or in the mud, waiting for a G.I. sniper or Viet Cong fighter to take what life they have lived and in all their future lives. To restate it, Spock's idea is that in the constructed world of this week's impossibly powerful alien, if you know you cannot be killed by bullets, you cannot. "Know" because "believe" requires the acknowledgment of the potential for doubt, but knowing requires a perfect certainty. In Spock's psychic certainty there is physical safety and real, true resurrection for the marooned crew.

This is what I love about science fiction, the fantasies that science fiction allows us, fantasies that give us enough breathing room to imagine a better world. Sometimes that world has to be far simpler for the conceit to play out. The world of this episode is much simpler than our own, which is why this trick of Commander Spock's is so intuitively effective. It felt in many moments like a stage play, and made me wonder how the Bard would have set the prologue:

Two families, both alike in indignity,
in fair Tombstone Arizona is where we lay our scene,
from lukewarm grudge break to new mutiny,
where uncivil blood makes uncivil hands unclean.

There is a little bit of a sweet Romeo and Juliet going on with Chekov in this episode, though it doesn’t entirely play out, ending up more of a joke than driving the narrative.

It really is our dynamic trio who make the episode, in their debates as to how to avoid furthering the cycle of violence the alien of the week has thrown them into. Kirk's attempt to explain was so satisfying to watch as he shouted and fought not to fight. His framing of his own family's history added a depth of character for me, as many of the passing references in this season do.

While we can understand that his ancestors were part of the genocide against the Native Americans of the American West, I like to think if Kirk was alive right now and his draft number came due, he would hike over the border to Canada. Draft dodging in this way would be a key way to keep his hands and mind and blood from being complicit in killing, whether of one man or entire families, entire communities. If no one fought, there would be no wars, and we see how that can start with someone like Kirk refusing to fight. In this case, there are no deadly consequences for the draft dodgers, as Spock's science fictional defense is perfectly effective.

In our more complicated reality, it is not so easy. There is no curtain call on the battlefield, and no alien to blame for the violence that engulfs us. So many occupied graves may make draftees feel obligated to fill in a few more before they punch their final ticket. But I do fervently hope that those who are conscripts or reservists or draftees called to slaughter can watch this episode before they board their planes and tanks, before they load up their all-too-lethal guns with human-killing bullets. I hope it inspires them as only science fiction can to consider another path, the all-too-human journey of nonviolence.

5 stars.

The Greatest Show off Earth!

by Gideon Marcus

Most of my colleagues were impressed by the story, the message, and so forth. Those are all laudable topics, and I'm glad they've covered them more eloquently than I would have. However, I just want to comment on how much I've been enjoying the third season of Star Trek, how far this show has come.

1968 is an interesting moment. Laugh-In has infected all other media. Psychedelia is de rigeur It's a time of experimentation and irreverence. As I noted in my last review, the New Wave has made it to Trek. Indeed, my friend, part-time Journeyer Brian Collins said that, if he didn't know better, he'd have thought Phillip K. Dick wrote this episode!

So it's no surprise we get all sorts of neat stuff, visually, aurally, literarily. According to my friend Maurice, the partial "limbo" that comprises the setting actually borrows a lot from the 1953 musical comedy Red Garters. However, "Spectre" uses the setting to unsettle, to connote things unfinished, and also because it's just cool and weird!

The score is once again brand new. That makes it the fourth or fifth new score we've had this season, and as usual, it is excellent and fitting. Trek has the best music this side of Hollywood Palace.

Vince McEevety's direction is, once again, excellent. I don't think it's a coincidence that his episodes ("Balance of Terror", "Miri", to some degree "Patterns of Force") have not only been innovative in their execution, but have also wrung out good performances from its actors. Shatner, in particular, has had a tendency to ham things up (very unkosher!) since the end of the 1st season. There's none of that in this episode. His encounter with Sheriff Behan, when he plaintively yells that he can't kill the Earps, his mourning over Chekov's death, his subtle reactions to his crew, particularly in the gas testing scene…all terrific. Chekov finally gets a role he can chew on, and he's great. Scotty as well. The Big Three are thoroughly in character, up to and including McCoy arguing both sides of the fence—"Cheer up, Jim!" followed by "Shut up, Spock! We're grieving!")

"I am not someone you can marry, although marriage was inwented in Russia."

And the guest stars, particularly the Earps/Doc Holliday, turn in performances that are nearly robotic, but highly emotive nevertheless. It's a hard needle to thread, but they manage it.

I find my esteem for this episode rising in the glow of the morning after, and in the conversations it has sparked with my comrades. I was going to give it 4 stars, but I think it moves up to 4.5 now.

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 18, 1968] Little monsters (Star Trek: "And the Children Shall Lead")

October 18, 2023 Janice L. Newman 9 Comments

by Janice L. Newman

Star Trek is, first and foremost, a science fiction show. But science fiction is a special genre in that it need not be constrained by the same rules as other genres. A story that’s science fiction can also be a Western, a romance, a mystery…or a horror story, such as Wolf in the Fold and Catspaw attempted to be. On the first Friday in October, we gathered our friends in our backyard and watched on our portable 13" one of the scariest episodes of Star Trek I’ve seen yet.

The story opens with a landing party (which includes the Captain, Mr. Spock, and Dr. McCoy, as has become standard these days) investigating a research colony that has fallen out of contact with the Federation. They find the research team dead, all of them having drunk poison. One member is conveniently still alive, but can only gasp out a few cryptic words before collapsing.

The heroes’ shock is interrupted and then multiplied when a group of children (of varying ages and ethnicities) burst out of the shelter and immediately begin playing noisy games, apparently unconcerned that their parents are lying there dead.

This theme is repeated when the children are brought back to the ship. At first they’re cooperative, but when asked questions about their parents and their family life they ignore or dismiss them, pulling each other into games involving shouting and running.

The whole setup is pretty creepy, with the contrast of the dead bodies and the unconcerned children being particularly effective. Soon, the viewer learns that there’s more going on with the children than meets the eye. Out of sight of the adults, they use a singsong chant to summon an alien who instructs them to ‘control the crew’ and tells them ‘you know how to do that’.

The "friendly angel" exhorts his minions as they pound the table with Nuremberg rally fervor

So begins the truly scary part of the story. The children scatter to different parts of the ship. By making a pounding gesture with one hand, they can force the crew to see what they want them to see, usually an illusion that taps into a deeply-held fear. One by one the crewmembers fall under the spell, even Spock at one point asking the Captain, “Why are we bothering Starfleet?” when Kirk orders him to send out a distress call.

Seeing the normally unflappable crew caught up in the children’s illusions is genuinely disconcerting – Sulu grabs Kirk’s arm to keep him away from the controls, Scotty threatens him, Chekov points a phaser at him – but the children in the background of each shot are the ones that carry the real menace. Whether it’s the red-haired ringleader on the bridge or the tiny boy partially-obscured in engineering, it’s clear that the kids are the ones really in charge, and that’s a terrifying thought. Maybe on a larger TV screen or a well-lit room it would have worked less well. On our small color TV, watched outside on a chilly October night, it was riveting.

Spock and Kirk eventually manage to overcome the control and, after inspiring doubts in the children’s minds about their alien friend, use a recording of the children’s chant to summon the alien. Kirk breaks through the children’s seeming apathy by showing them recordings of their parents, then cutting to shots of their parents’ bodies and gravestones. It’s tough love, but it works. The children turn against the alien and it disintegrates, yelling, “Death to you all!” as it dies.

Kirk comforts the weeping children, telling them, “It’s all right.” I’m not sure it is all right, at least not for the kids. After all, their parents are dead, and they helped kill them. Thus we are left with a lingering horror despite the ‘happy ending’.

I liked this episode more than I’d expected to. Child actors are notoriously tricky to work with, but their performances weren’t too bad. In fact, far worse was the children’s alien friend, who they called ‘angel’ and Kirk called, ‘Gorgon’. He was played by Melvin Belli, perhaps most famous for being the attorney who represented Jack Ruby, the man who shot Lee Harvey Oswald; for an actor, he's a pretty good lawyer. Perhaps the stilted delivery to the children was intentional, but I couldn’t help but feel a better performer could have delivered the lines far more convincingly and with greater menace.

Still, it was a great start to the spookiest month of the year, and a nice return to form for Star Trek. I’m taking off half a star for the Gorgon’s poor performance, leaving it with three and a half stars.

Who's Responsible?

by Lorelei Marcus

There's a new show this season that rivals Star Trek in popularity for us young folks. It's called Mod Squad, and it stars three young adults who work as undercover cops. Unlike most of the police shows on TV, it has a lot of heart, and it's not afraid to tell it like it is. Most compelling, though, is the hope it portrays. It gives us the cops we want to see—diverse, young, relatable, and trying to do good and protect people.

The Mod Squad and their Captain (the Klingon in "Friday's Child")

The Mod Squad leads are a far cry from the militant, "law-and-order" brutes who aim firehoses at kids in a sit-in or beat protestors bloody at the Democratic National convention. All the adults of today are calling for law and order, scared of what the kids will do. Funny enough, I think we all really want the same thing: peace. But to get it, we need to stop shipping our boys to die in Vietnam, stop packing black people into city slums, and stop ogling girls like they're nothing but pieces of meat. We need change, and sadly, I don't think any of the old politicians of today can give us that change.

I feel a kinship with the children of last week's Star Trek episode. Those kids wanted freedom, and the right to happiness, and time with the ones they loved. Yet they also terrified me, because under the right (wrong) guidance, they had great power, and that power was misled. With that power, they plunged the Enterprise into anarchy, rendering each of our beloved and competent crew useless by playing on their fears. Even Captain Kirk was reduced to a dithering, anxious fool for a time. Most horrifying was the children being tricked into causing the death of their own parents. Like those kids, we (me and my generation) are pent up and we want change. We have the power to make it happen. But is it worth it if it costs us our loved ones?

From a recent Nixon for President commercial: how he wants you to see kids

But the thing is, kids aren't inherently scary—just, under the right circumstances, desperate. We don't have money or experience. We're growing up in uncertain times and we're scared to death we won't make it past 20. Ultimately, we don't want to hurt anyone. We just want to save ourselves. But I can see that fear makes us dangerous, and the adults, too. We're all scared, like stampeding zebras, unsure of where we're going, and who we're trampling in our path. I can bet those kids on the Enterprise were scared. How might the episode have ended differently if one adult stopped to see their point of view?

Who will stop to see ours? Or will we have to keep shaking our firsts to be heard, playing on fears until someone gets hurt? Something will bridge the gap, I hope. Maybe it starts with a conversation sparked by this episode. For that, and its compelling pacing, story, and acting, I give this episode four stars.

Successes and Failures of Fear

by Mx. Blue Cathey-Thiele

In the face of overwhelming odds, the core Enterprise crew remains frighteningly efficient. Those same strengths are devastating when turned back on our heroes. Scotty's steady, unmoving presence and protection of the auxiliary control blocks Kirk and Spock from the engines. Sulu's precision is narrowed to keep the ship on course and unscathed, unable to question if the weapons he sees are real. Chekov's loyalty is strained, torn between his Captain and the even higher authority of Starfleet command.

"You die, Captain—and we all go up in rank!"

The odd one out is Lt. Uhura. While her colleagues' fears and perceptions revolved around duty, she was shown a painful death in old age, reflected in a mirror only she could see. This was just the latest time a woman on 'Trek was derailed by loss of youth or beauty. Yeoman Rand, distressed over her legs in Miri, Lt. Galway afraid to sleep after aging rapidly in The Deadly Years (at least the mirror she complained of actually existed). The trio taking the Venus drug in Mudd's Women. Uhura herself already encountered this when she was offered an immortal, youthful robot body in I, Mudd – and importantly, chose not to accept. She's a professional, and there was already the perfect moment to set her fear: when Kirk's instruction to the bridge security came out as garbled nonsense. Communication is her specialty, and she's had to relearn language before when Nomad erased her knowledge in The Changeling.

Pushing the crew in the wrong direction is a masterstroke. These people are exceptional at what they do and they don't know the harm they are causing. This is where the horror crept in. Not only was the crew unaware that they were helping the "angel" towards its destination, they were convinced that they were keeping the ship safe. Modern day propaganda may not manifest visions or change perception so literally, but if everything you know is telling you one thing, how do you begin to question it? A sense of justice or duty isn't enough, and the most well-intentioned can still cause great damage. Kirk orders a security shift change, and two officers are transported to where the planet is supposed to be, only to die silently in empty space, off screen. These deaths feel entirely preventable – no one was shooting at them, there was no need to fight! And yet, horribly, there was no way for any of them to know. Like his crew, Kirk did everything right, and it still resulted in tragedy. The children induced an artificial anxiety, but the aftermath will haunt the crew for much longer. How to know if a future mission is doing more good than harm? Or perhaps even worse, has the Enterprise been an unknowing party to devastation in the past, all while under the impression of a successful mission?

4 stars

Without Followers, Evil Cannot Spread

by Robin Rose Graves

Initially, I was annoyed by yet another “magical children” plot in Star Trek, as in the first season we had "Charlie X", and overall I’m not fond of Trek including magic as a seemingly limitless device. Despite my initial hesitation, the episode won me over with its appropriately creepy tone and mastermind behind the children’s behavior, who I feel has great political relevance to our own history.

To summon the Gorgon, the children chant “hail, hail, fire and snow…” which could possibly be a play on the word “heil.” Perhaps the Gorgon targeting children for recruits was a nod to Hitler’s youth – or maybe it has something deeper to say about the followers who enable such evil men to rise to power. Perhaps the children represent naivete that can be preyed upon, a selfishness that can be manipulated, and a lack of regard to consequences. “Evil does seek power by suppressing the truth,” Spock noted of the children being unaware of what they were doing. “Or by misleading the innocent,” McCoy added. The Gorgon was not just an alien version of Hitler, but every demagogue we’ve known and are yet to know, from Lincoln Rockwell to George Wallace.

"Segregation now, Segregation tomorrow, Segregation forever!"

“They’re children being misled,” Kirk said, in defense of the children, to which Spock replied “they are followers. Without followers, evil cannot spread.” Within these lines, Spock exposed the Gorgon’s strength and weakness, and reminded us that it is the people who give leaders power, but those same followers can take that power away. That, I believe, is the true message of the episode.

Appropriately, this episode was followed by a commercial for Richard Nixon aimed at today's youth.

3 stars.

Un-asked Questions

by Joe Reid

“And the Children Shall Lead” is this week’s episode of Star Trek. It is frankly an episode that leaves much to be desired. It has too many open questions that could have been answered, but in the end were not, coupled with a threat that is so easy to spot that it makes one wonder whether the outcome couldn’t have been avoided by asking a few simple questions. How about we go over a few of the questions that might have saved our heroes a lot of hassle?

Question 1 – “Do you think that these children might be responsible for all the dead adults on this planet?" When you come to a place where all the adults and parents are dead, and you find a bunch of playing and laughing children who could care less, there is something wrong. Perhaps it would not be a good idea to take them to your ship full of adults. Those children are as queer as a three-dollar bill! Leave them on the planet and watch them closely. There is no need to endanger the crew by rushing to rescue ill-mannered brats.

"You do see these bodies, right, kids?"

Question 2 – “Who is letting all of these rude children into restricted areas?” There was a child in Engineering, a child roaming the halls driving crew members around like cattle, and multiple children on the bridge. These children were not invisible and were clearly in areas where visiting children should not be visiting. If Nurse Chapel was to see these children to their quarters and they end up roaming the ship, there should be disciplinary action taken against her. [To be fair, Kirk did order a security guard to watch the kids. Said guard was immediately co-opted by Tommy Starnes. Indeed, this is one of the few episodes with appropriate (though inadequate) levels of security) (ed.)]

Question 3 – “Did anyone else see that glowing intruder over there?” If anyone at all had been alerted to a translucent glowing alien on the ship, folks might have been more careful. Perhaps people might have anticipated a danger to themselves or to the “defenseless” children that were guests on the ship. How about we go to yellow alert until this uninvited alien is abducted? [None of the crew saw the gorgon until the final encounter; by the time Kirk suspected an alien on board, the crew had already been co-opted. (Ed.)]

I find all the things that occurred in this entry to completely lack credibility where this normally overly inquisitive crew is involved. Usually asking a few questions would trigger Kirk’s powers of “Kirk-sposition”, where the captain would exposit to a degree as to turn the very Oracle of Delphi green with envy with his level of accuracy. The fact that simple questions such as the ones presented above were left un-uttered, left me questioning why I failed to switch the television off. It was not good in my opinion.

One star

Give kids a chance

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

This is my first creepy-child Star Trek episode review since having my first child last November and all of it hit so much harder than it would have a year ago. The ages of the kids, their games, their attempts to control the world around them using whatever tools consistently work, much of it reminded me of my little guy.

Which made this exchange so horrifying I nearly turned off my TV:

KIRK: They're children.
SPOCK: Captain, the four hundred and thirty men and women on board the Enterprise and the ship itself are endangered by these children.
KIRK: They don't understand the evil that they're doing.
SPOCK: Perhaps that is true, but the evil that is within them is spreading fast, and unless we can find a way to remove it
KIRK: We'll have to kill them.

Um, what? Have you no brig? Have you no tranquilizers? Have you no compassion? [Have you no stun setting on your phasers? (ed)]

The easy slip from 'they're a danger to us' to 'we must kill them' could only be made by someone without kids, or perhaps without the caregiving responsibility for them. Like many people who give birth, my kid endangered my life during his time entering this world; but I would not more kill him than kill myself. We're a dyad, he and I, less and less biologically the older he gets, but certainly still emotionally. Once one has had that experience of one body becoming two, it is difficult to look at any child and not see the halos of your own. And the cries of children? Not only do they get the milk flowing, but the tears too.

Dr. McCoy laughing in delight at the children crying was nearly as chilling to me as the horrible ways they were manipulated by this week's evil alien.

The alien way in which the children were treated made me realize how strange life on the Enterprise must be. They had no children-sized beds, no play area, no children's library or jungle gym. I wrote in the fanzine Tricorder I about what it might take for Yeoman Rand to seek an abortion using teleporter technology, but even there I had assumed in my heart that this advanced civilization could find a way to keep families intact while allowing parents to be the great explorers we all are every single day (and explainers, and shoe tie-ers, and booty wipers and tear driers…).

There are alien contact specialists on board the Enterprise—perhaps one of them might have been better qualified to talk to them than the fellow who couldn't explain the Birds and the Bees to Charlie Evans…

The fact that the Enterprise has no children is newly shocking to me. So much of the universe must be missed by excluding that unique perspective. So many potential alien diplomatic relationships must be missed when societies first encounter Star Fleet and are confronted by a uniformed crew of mostly-singletons. Of course, there is for many people everything right and nothing wrong in being single, being child free, or some mix of the same. Both are states whose partisans I wish joy to. But parents too have our own well-earned perspectives and skills, as do the children we protect and harbor and launch out into the wide, wide galaxy.

What would this episode have been like if, as Lorelei mentioned, someone had actually tried to communicate with the children: another parent or another child? The best interlocutors are sometimes the ones most closely sited by those to whom they wish to speak, and integrating this troubled and troubling group into an existing, healthy culture of children aboard a starship would have been a fascinating twist to this story. I hope one day to watch a Star Trek where both children and parents have a voice and role in the narrative, beyond guest stars and evil foils.

Three stars for threatening to kill traumatized kids who were being manipulated by an adult. No me gusta.

[Come join us tonight (October 18th) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek! KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings. You won't want to miss it…]

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 10, 1968] Going Native (Star Trek: "The Paradise Syndrome")

October 10, 2023 Gideon Marcus 2 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

With two episodes under its belt, the third season of Star Trek has both disappointed and elated. The general reaction to "Spock's Brain" amongst the fan population (beyond the Journey) was universally negative. Buck Coulson of Yandro has even called for this season's producer Fred Freiberger to be ridden out on a rail. On the other hand, "The Enterprise Incident" wowed everyone. And so, we waited eagerly for Trek at 9:59 PM on a Friday night, a night when we could have been out drinking and carousing (who are we kidding—we're probably the only group for whom the Friday night "death slot" is actually perfect timing).

What we got was…well, closer to "Spock's Brain" in terms of quality. In brief:

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam down to a remarkably Earthlike planet, complete with pine trees, honeysuckle, and orange blossom (Spock must feel left out; when's the last time they visited a world just like Vulcan?) They are on a tight deadline: a moon-massed asteroid is making its inexorable way toward a collision with the planet. While it will take two months to reach its target, the Enterprise must deflect the body now, or the ship will not be able to sufficiently perturb the colossus from its present orbit.

Why they don't do this first is not explained. Perhaps they wanted to make sure there was something to protect on the planet before they went through all the trouble.

"I guess we do need to save this planet."

There is: a race of humans on the planet. These are also familiar, exhibiting traits of the Navaho, Cherokee, and Delaware tribes in ancient America (which sounds as plausible as a mix of French, Turkish, and Finnish cultures to me, but what do I know?) Beyond this, they discover an alien obelisk, clearly not made by the present inhabitants. A door to its interior is inadvertently opened, and Kirk falls in. After an encounter with some mind-numbing equipment inside, the captain loses all of his memory. Spock and McCoy, unable to find him, reluctantly abandon him to shift the asteroid.

Kirk emerges from the obelisk and is immediately accepted as a god. It helps that he saves a drowned child with artificial respiration and has a profound knowledge of primitive agriculture and lighting techniques. Conflict arises when he is given the Medicine Man's badge of office literally from the head of the former bearer. Worse still, in his new role he is expected to man the obelisk, which is actually a deflector station, when the asteroid approaches. Of course, Kirk doesn't know how to do this. Well, let's hope the Enterprise can stop it.

"Oy. I feel like the whole Sioux Nation is tap-dancing on my head."

They can't. They burn out every circuit on the ship trying to repel the asteroid, then to destroy it. (We do learn that the Enterprise has four forward-facing phasers, which is a nice bit of trivia.) Their warp drive destroyed, the starship must limp back to the planet on impulse power, just four hours ahead of the asteroid, and try to find a way to activate the obelisk. Spock spends two months on the problem, concluding only at the last minute that the strange glyphs decorating the structure are musical notes. When recited in proper sequence, they will open the thing up.

Spock, staying up to figure out the glyphs…or perhaps he's watching Johnny Carson.

Cut to Kirk (now known as "Kirok") atop the obelisk, the trees swaying and thunder rolling from the tidal force of the approaching moon. Beside him is Miramanee, the native princess to whom he has been wed and who bears his child. And there are lots of rocks. A whole bunch of rocks. Not tossed by the wind but by angry tribesmen who are angry that the false god can't figure out the obelisk.

"Oooo, that smarts!"

Spock and McCoy arrive in the nick-o-time to save the day. Kirk's memory is restored. He gets them in the obelisk. Spock works the machine (pressing a single button), and everything is fine. Except Miramanee. Her internal injuries are too great, and she and the unborn child are doomed. Kirk is sad. FINIS.

"Your star medicine man can save me, right?" "Um…"

Boy. The biggest problem with this episode is its contrived nature. This asteroid must be in the planet's solar system, yet the Enterprise has to go Warp NINE to reach it in time, straining its engines. Last episode, Warp Nine took the starship through the entire Romulan Neutral Zone in about a minute. Then, on impulse, it takes two months to come back. In Where No Man Has Gone Before, The Doomsday Machine, Balance of Terror, and The Menagerie, it's established that impulse may be slower than warp, but it's still faster than light. Get your technologies straight!

"Whatever you do, Mr. Sulu, don't take us out of Reverse!"

I also have trouble with the length of time it takes for Spock to decode the glyphs. In prior episodes, particularly "Wolf in the Fold" and "Conscience of the King", it's been shown that the ship's computer is extremely knowledgeable and very good at coordinating facts. This should have been a trivial problem for it to solve. Moreover, why didn't Spock enlist help? After all, it's not as if there isn't anyone else on the vessel skilled at communications, foreign tongues, and music…

Did Uhura have any lines this episode? Or was it just this quick cutaway?

The episode isn't terrible. It's reasonably paced (except when scenes are padded, like when Kirk, in voiceover, tells us exactly what he just told Miramanee in person about the shipboard dreams he's been having). The score is mostly new. The special effects are tremendous. The on-location shooting is lovely, especially since we're not at the usual Vasquez Rocks location (q.v. "Arena", "Friday's Child", etc. etc. etc.)

But it could have been more. A real exploration of Kirk finally getting a beach to walk on, away from the burdens of command. Instead, between the contrived plot, director Jud Taylor's inability to restrain Shatner's innate desire to chew scenery, and the tired white-man-as-savior-to-red-savages cliché (and couldn't the show have followed the trend set by High Chapparal and cast actual Native Americans?), I can't give this tale more than 2.5 stars.

That's better than Margaret Armen's first essay into Trekdom, "Gamesters of Triskelion", but that's damning with faint praise…

Cosmic Implications

by Lorelei Marcus

I cannot deny that this episode is severely flawed in many aspects, and I think that is important to highlight. But I would rather devote my piece to the interesting universal implications brought on by the existence of "The Preservers".

As Spock explains in the latter half of the episode, the Earth ecology and Indian tribes appear to have been seeded on the planet (rather than having evolved there) by the same advanced race that left the obelisk. His theory is that this alien race sought out dying civilizations and relocated them to inhabitable planets to preserve them.

A relic of the empire

Per McCoy's following off-hand observation, this becomes an easy explanation for many, if not all, of the humanoids scattered across the galaxy.

Previously, I theorized that the Star Trek universe actually comprised many alternate Earths in a sort of condensed multiverse, leading to a vast array of inhabitable planets and human-like aliens. With the addition of the Preservers, I think this theory is still viable, but now under the assumption that the many Earths were created to seed human communities. Indeed, perhaps even the moon-massed asteroid was placed around the planet to simulate our own moon.

This raises the question whether all the Earthlike worlds, from the one in "Miri" to pre-contaminated Sigma Iota 2 to the Roman world of "Bread and Circuses", were Preserver colonies. The over-controlling computer in "Return of the Archons" may have been a Preserver artifact left to regulate the colony. "Patterns of Force" even has two planets of humanoids next to each other. Maybe the Zeons were originally rescued Jews from 1940's Europe, explaining their overly apt names so similar to Isaac and Abram.

Theorizing aside, two major questions remain surrounding the Preservers. First, who are they? We've thus far encountered quite a few super powerful races who could fit the bill, but I think the technology level and the musical basis for communications suggests a less advanced level than, say the Organians (who presumably are beyond such things).

My first thought was the Greek Gods in "Who Mourns for Adonais", but the implication is that Apollo and the other Gods were stranded on their planet after one trip to Earth, making it impossible for them to seed multiple colonies. A more likely candidate is Trelane's race. The obsession with and research of human cultures, the machine that can turn a hostile world into a clement one, and even the knowledge of music—Trelane has a harpsichord in his living room—all make the adults of Trelane's race a leading candidate. Trelane himself may have been studying an old human civilization to locate and preserve future ones.

After all, who wouldn't want to save this fellow?

This leads me to my second question: why are the Preservers obsessed with humans in particular? We have seen there are more intelligent aliens than just humans, with their own rich civilizations and history. The Vulcans are the prime example of this. Could the Romulans have originated from a Preserver colony seeded from Vulcan? It seems quite likely, particularly if the colonists were obtained during or shortly after Vulcan's warring period.

Could this mean there are also rogue Klingon colonies evolved separately from the main empire? Did they exist once but were subsequently captured and incorporated? If the Preservers did not single out humans for preservation, perhaps the reason human settlements are so often found by the Enterprise is that the Preservers seeded them close to Earth for Terrans to find.

As my compatriots and I have mentioned, this was not a great episode. However, it kept me entertained nearly to the end, and its premises create vast implications about the Star Trek universe. For that, at least, I give it three stars.

Pilgrim's Regress

by Amber Dubin

After fans fought tooth and nail to prevent the series's cancellation, you'd think the episodes in season 3 would reflect the very best writing Star Trek has to offer. Instead, for episode 3, we have writer Margaret Armen, author of "Gamesters of Triskellion," who has not yet proven herself to be the show's best and brightest. I can't imagine the way this episode turned out was entirely her fault, however. I sense the pitch for this episode went somewhat like this: "Hey Margaret, we have this leftover set from a Western near a lake that we can use for this episode. We can only spare a couple regular staff members for the field shots so make sure at least half of the episode takes place on the ship. Oh, and Shatner's been complaining he hasn't had enough space to spread his wings so make sure this one's especially Kirk-focused. Make it happen."

I imagine the resulting scramble was: "uh, ok.. Western themes.. uh, Pocahontas.. and the rest of the crew was separated by .. uh.. an asteroid! and it's Star Trek because of.. ancient alien technology! Phew, I did it!" The resulting episode feels rushed, uninspired, and at times as frustratingly offensive as I find nearly all Westerns.

They get all the creativity out of the way at the beginning of the episode when they describe the planet as earth-like but entirely crater-free, and an advanced alien obelisk is introduced that Kirk accidentally opens with a series of tones. The fact that he gets amnesia by accidentally activating a booby trap, I found pretty creative as well, even though Shatner's delivery of the moment of shock leaves much to be desired.

It's all downhill from there, however, as the very premise for why the three bridge officers are exploring the planet is completely absurd. It's ridiculous that they would be casually exploring an imperiled planet, 30 minutes before their last opportunity to deviate the oncoming asteroid's path. It's silly that Kirk wanders off by himself without telling anyone what he's doing, and even more absurd that Spock has to explain to McCoy with rocks why they have run out of time to recover their captain when he gets lost. The resulting tension on the ship is painfully contrived, as not only is it revealed that they're so far from the asteroid that they have to speed at warp 9 for so long that they burn out the engines, but they also are immediately out of options when two rounds of phaser fire seems to have no effect. It's also silly that Spock would make the decision to limp back to the planet on impulse power, directly in the path of the asteroid and it's sillier that it takes him almost that entire two months to decode the music-based glyphs on the obelisk, when it has been well-established how well-versed the half-Vulcan is in musical pursuits.

The plot on the planet is not much more cogent than on the ship. The brain-damaged Kirk immediately woos and falls in love with the chief's daughter, because all red roads lead to Pocahontas. I cannot even bother getting offended by how many times the Native Americans are referred to as "primitive," even though it's more than infuriating that the longer Kirk spends with the tribe, the more broken and rudimentary his speech becomes (although this could have been Shatner more than enthusiastically taking advantage of an opportunity to talk more slowly). The part I get most offended by is a white savior bringing with him the innovative concepts of food preservation and lamps. Native American tribes were famous for their food preservation techniques! Moreover, the concept that indoor lighting had to be introduced to Native Americans is beyond insulting. Even cavemen brought torches into their caves! How primitive are they claiming this tribe to be? Also, I simply cannot abide the idea that an entire space-faring medical team could not heal Kirk's wife's mortal wound that could only have been inflicted by a maximum of two rocks. It was obvious the character had to die so that Kirk didn't look like a monster for abandoning his family on a backwater planet, but I think it's a mark of bad writing when I can so blatantly see the intention behind weak plot points.

Overall, this episode plays very much like a holiday special. It's the type of episode to be watched when you're stuffed as a tick after thanksgiving dinner and don't feel like getting up to change the channel. It's not particularly exhausting, but it's also neither memorable nor good. Someone did spend quite a lot of time making that cloak and obelisk look beautiful, though, so for that I give the episode..

2 stars.

"We can fly! We can fly! We can fly!"

[Come join us tomorrow night (October 11th) for the next thrilling episode of Star Trek! KGJ is broadcasting the show live with commercials and accompanied by trekzine readings. You won't want to miss it…]

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[September 26, 1968] Brain drain: (Star Trek: "Spock's Brain")

September 26, 2023 Janice L. Newman 9 Comments

[Star Trek is back for its third season! Accordingly, we've devoted a great many inches to this rather uneven debut….]

by Janice L. Newman

This week we gathered all our friends together to start off a new season of Star Trek. We served dinner, then put our little portable color set outside and everyone enjoyed the lovely late summer night.

Well, everyone except me, that is. I was stuck inside with a VERY nasty cold that, oddly enough, no one else wanted to share with me. It made watching Spock’s Brain a lonely experience, but it did give me space to focus on the episode without being distracted by gasps, groans, or laughter—except my own, that is.

With the recent threats of cancelation and huge fan response, I expected NBC to put their best foot forward starting the new season. For Season 2 they knocked it out of the park with Amok Time. Could they do it again?

In a word, no.

Spock’s Brain had a lot of good elements. The set up was interesting, if fairly typical by now. An unknown alien vessel confronts the Enterprise. An alien woman appears on the bridge and knocks everyone out with a gadget worn on her wrist. When the crew awakens again, they are horrified to discover that Spock is missing. Then, in a twist I could not have predicted, they find that Spock’s body is in Sick Bay, but his brain has been carefully removed!

Kirk's brain doesn't pass muster…

Somehow Spock’s “incredible Vulcan physique” (McCoy’s words, not mine) allows him to survive without a brain until McCoy can get him on futuristic life support. However, they must get back Spock’s brain within 24 hours, McCoy tells Kirk, or they won’t be able to reconnect it.

Kirk, furious and terrified, orders the navigator to follow the trail of the other ship. When it dead ends in a known system, they must determine which of the three planets has Spock’s brain. Playing a hunch that the audience knows will be correct, Kirk chooses the one that seems the least likely.

The surface of the world is cold and barren, populated by all-male tribes of primitive humans. Beneath the ground, women live in luxury and comfort. But both groups are strangely childlike. Neither understand what Kirk wants when he demands “Spock’s Brain”.

The away team consists of Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, and Mr. Spock—or rather, his body, controlled remotely by McCoy with a little gadget. He is even more inexpressive than usual, and little ticking sounds are heard whenever he moves. If it sounds ridiculous, that’s because it is.

Own your own clockwork Spock!

The team is captured, escape, and eventually make their way to where Spock’s brain has been hooked up to the machine controlling the entire complex. His autonomic functions have been repurposed to control the air, water, heating, and so on. It’s not a new idea in SF—Anne McCaffrey’s The Ship Who Sang did something similar if I recall correctly—but it was one of the more interesting plot points in the episode.

Spock's brain after getting the Sargon treatment

The team learns that the childlike people occasionally get temporary boosts to their knowledge by wearing a funny helmet with pins sticking out of it. This is how their leader was able to remove Spock’s brain. When they force her to again partake of the forbidden knowledge, however, she refuses to help them. If Spock’s brain is removed, the machines will cease to function and her people will die.

McCoy, left with no other choice, dons the helmet himself, receives a temporary boost in knowledge and skill, and proceeds to reattach Spock’s brain. The knowledge runs out before he can finish, but fortunately he’s able to connect Spock’s vocal cords, and the Vulcan is then able to guide him through reattaching the rest.

Kirk, meanwhile, tells the leader not to worry her pretty little head, because soon the women and men will be living together like they should have been all along, and the Federation will ‘help’ them.

Spock is unusually garrulous as the episode ends, lecturing them all on Ancient Rome as the theme swells triumphantly.

Spock is all better now—he didn't even muss his hair!

The frustrating thing about Spock’s Brain is that there’s so much good in it. The acting is very good. Kelley, Shatner, and Nimoy feel like they’ve really started to slot together as a team. Their banter is smoother than ever, Kirk’s over-acting is kept to a minimum, and they deliver the most nonsensical lines with absolute sincerity and straight faces. For that alone, they all deserve Emmys.

Added to that is Marc Daniels’ excellent direction, with interesting angles and innovative camera work. The music, too, was new.

Yet none of it mattered, because the fundamental plot was such schlock that it was impossible to take seriously. Every time McCoy screamed out, “Where are we going to look for Spock’s brain?” or Nimoy robotically walked across the screen as little ticking sounds followed along in the background, I was thrown right out of the world of Star Trek and into a bad B-movie. It was funny. It just wasn’t Star Trek.

Hopefully next week the studio will have something better to offer us.

Two stars.

A Sow's Ear from a Silk Purse

by Amber Dubin

This episode started with promise, the way the scantily clad, mysteriously powerful alien women that smoothly and silently dispatches the entire crew harkens back to the hostile takeovers we’ve seen in other episodes like Norman from “I, Mudd” or the Kelvans from “By any other name.” We expect, then, the plot to follow a similarly cerebral path where this new species of alien demonstrates how their improvements upon humanoid society have allowed them to surpass us in power while sacrificing one very human trait whose immense value they’ve forgotten. That would be following a tried and true formula of an episode that, while banal, can still be entertaining. It is seemingly from this scaffold that this episode attempts to reach to higher heights, without recognizing that it never truly took the time to support itself beforehand.

This reach is visible in the beautifully presented viewscreens, the dramatic "behind the captain's chair" camera angle they debut in this episode, the smooth score, matchless acting and the shiny new svelte uniforms they've adorned the cast with. They took a step backwards with Scottie's new haircut, which is so devastatingly unflattering that it makes Chekov's Monkees wig look tolerable, but it's a small misstep when compared to the unforgivable sin of completely forgetting to attach these shiny tassels to an intelligible script or plot.

For once, Chekov's hair looks better than Scotty's…

The most obvious problem with the plot is the concept of removing Spock's brain. Spock has had his body hijacked countless other times but the insistence of using the removal of his physical cerebral organ this time, instead of just his consciousness, makes all the subsequent actions ridiculous. Also, the fact that none of the Imorgs even seem to know what a brain is is absurd. This leads me to my second biggest problem with the episode, and that is that the alien societal structure is incredibly poorly designed. Ostensibly, the species is segregated across gender lines with the females (the Imorgs) living underground, most likely for their own protection as the males (the Morgs) seem to have descended into violent, brainless savages. The most interesting implication I find with this structure is that Imorgs are described by the Morgs as “bringers of pain and delight.” This implies, to me, that their society must survive by the Imorgs periodically returning to the surface, not just to discipline the Morgs, but also to.. ahem.. milk them of their genetic material for reproductive purposes.

While this is a comical concept, the explanation for this setup makes no sense. It is explained that they became so advanced and so comfortable that their species' intelligence gradually atrophied like an unused muscle, thus requiring the externalization of said intelligence in the archival brain-training headset that certain members of society can put on to receive the combined knowledge of the ancients at their intellectual peak. Yet this raises the question: how did their loss of intelligence happen so slowly that it was unavoidable and yet so quickly that they were able to see it coming in order to store it externally to be used later? Perhaps there was a brain-eating disease that only spared the less intelligent? Yet this does not explain how McCoy's readings picked up evidence of a gradual degradation and does not explain how the best solution that these highly intelligent beings could come up with is to turn their habitat into a body controlled by a physical cerebral organ sustained for 10,000 year periods; meanwhile the remnants of their species are left to crawl around said body mindlessly like ants in a glass-bound ant hill.

As absurd as this premise makes the episode, it introduces what I see as its most redemptive quality: the positive sexism. As often as this show strives for portraying women as valued members of an advanced society, it's my personal opinion that it falls short too many times. This episode seeks to bend the needle at least a little bit in favor of a 'women being smarter than men' narrative, and I am a fan. The Imorgs, while dumb, are no more dumb than the Morgs, and I am quite fond of the fact that their highly intelligent ancestors chose the females as the more reliable receptacles into which to download the collective knowledge of their species. I also enjoyed that, while graced with the knowledge and basically the consciousness of the ancients, the Imorg priestess is successfully able to out-smart Kirk and is completely immune to his powers of persuasion. I find it infinitely refreshing that Captain Kirk doesn’t once again save the day by aggressively teaching the femme-fatale the value of love. Although when said woman decries that they can’t control the men without systems of punishment and reward, Kirk does sneak in a snide “there are other ways.” I could be reading too far into it, but the way he delivered the line made me think he was more than willing to provide instructions as to techniques that women can use to get men to do what they want (maybe he’d even suggest a hands on approach to the milking process).

"How about some lessons in healthy sexual relations?"

Despite this episode's obvious flaws, which there are many, I wouldn't overall say this is a bad episode. It's a testament to the commitment of the actors that they're willing to deliver solid performances of the sometimes silly lines with depth and sometimes deadly seriousness (Nurse Chapel’s 10 second fall alone is Oscar-worthy). In general, the characters appear much more polished than we've seen in some other episodes; and the lighting, which I think is a little too severe for Shatner's face in a couple of scenes, was an interesting departure and a bold choice. What the episode lacked in structural continuity, it tried to make up for in fluid pacing, an exceptional score, and special effects opticals that I believe have vastly improved from even the last season. Ultimately, however, the failure of editors to cut the obvious silliness out of the script makes all the high quality elements feel like lipstick on a pig.

They say you can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear but apparently you can make a sow’s ear from a silk purse. This episode makes for one very stylish pig, but if it’s just going to dunk its head in the mud, I don’t see the point of the wasted effort.

Three stars.

The Mental Divide

by Joe Reid

Star Trek has returned for a 3rd season! I've missed our weekly sneak peek into the future as well as that regular glance into the mirror of our present. “Spock's Brain” is the name of this entry. Spock's brain is the apparent focus of this episode, at least on the surface. As I stated before, Star Trek is sometimes a mirror to show us who we are or may become. In “Spock's Brain”, we don't look good.

Watching shows like Star Trek, we see ourselves as the heroes. We picture ourselves as Kirk. We are Uhura. We are Chekov. From a narrative standpoint, we are actually the silly characters that the crew of the Enterprise are fighting, kissing, lying to, or helping each week. This week, we are the inhabitants of Sigma Draconis 6. What do the people of this planet tell us about ourselves?

The people of Sigma Draconis 6, which I will call Sixers from here forward, were divided by sex. The Sixer males were ignorant of relationships with the females outside of knowing them as the ones that bring pain and pleasure. Similarly, many men in our world don’t understand women. We sometimes reduce women to being instruments of pleasure, which if not handled correctly might lead to intense pain. Of course, it doesn’t help at all if men are uneducated and uncultured. Such men are reduced to seeing women in the context of either, “Heavens! She makes me feel good!”, or “Dammit! She is a pain in the neck!”

Women gain the upper hand in the battle of the sexes.

The Sixer women, being physically weaker than the men, and as ignorant as them, defaulted to using instruments of pain and pleasure to get what they wanted from men. Although the episode didn’t offer what pleasures were given to the men, I myself am intimately aware of the pleasures that today’s women use to get their way from a man and of the pain some of them inflict when they are not satisfied. Bill Shakespeare wrote about the fury of a woman’s scorn. I find myself questioning which is better—the long deep pain caused by a woman who hurts your soul or the short and intense pain of this episode’s futuristic torture device. Both seem equally bad ways of dealing with the opposite sex, based on an utter lack of compassion.

This portrayed male/female struggle, although interesting, was not a perfect mirror to our culture in that it gave no example to the pain that men have caused women today and throughout history. Also giving no notion that men could bring pleasure to women outside of what they can physically provide through their labor. In the end, "Spock's Brain" shows us that there must be more to successful human relations than simple Pavlovian techniques.

Another key lesson of the episode involves Spock’s brain and how it was to be used on Sigma Draconis 6. Sixers females could only continue their way of life if a controller was there to run their world. Without a controller, the females and males would have to rely on each other in a different way. This may seem far from reality, but I think this lesson should be taken as a warning rather than an indictment of our society. We should be wary of any leader, religion, philosophy, or machine that promises to take care of our needs or manage our lives to such a degree that it reduces our interdependence with those around us. Women and men need each other to survive, but all are better served through understanding and love over pain and pleasure. Families need each other in the same way. As do neighbors. Coworkers. Citizens of a country. People of a planet. Dependence on a solitary thing to care for us may lead to retardation of how we relate to one another.

Why think for yourself when you can just be force-fed knowledge?

For this exciting and thought-provoking episode of Star Trek, I offer 4 of 5 stars. It told a compelling and suspenseful yarn laced with relevant social commentary and caution—exactly what one wants from science fiction.

Four stars

Third Season Drinking Game

by Erica Frank

Take a drink every time you spot bad science, male chauvinism, Federation cultural supremacy, or the Enterprise crew pretending that an alien culture has human needs, interests, and abilities. …For this episode, make them small drinks. Sips only. Optionally, take long drinks; you may bypass a few others while you're raising your glass.

I'm leaving it to others to discuss the computer technology (take a drink), the womens' clothing (take a drink), and Kirk's ethics (take another drink), so as to focus on the split communities: Women living underground in the warm, computer-controlled facility; men living without technology on the frozen surface.

How are they making their clothes with "no sign of industrial development?" Those are awfully straight seams for hand-worked leather!

They have lived this way for thousands of years, long enough to have long forgotten why, even if they had attempted to keep records. They seem mostly content (or at least resigned): The men fear the women, but they do not band together to attack them; the women see no reason to change anything until they need a new "Controller."

(I have no idea how children happen. They're aliens. Maybe they lay eggs and the Controller keeps them in an incubator.)

But we are probably supposed to believe they are human-like, just split into communities so separate they don't even have words for sex or gender. Are we to believe these people, human-like enough to prefer buildings that are well-suited for our crew, wearing clothing that seems designed for human cultures, have no concept of human-like relationships? Of course not!

We have plenty of examples of what kind of relationships humans have, if you segregate them by sex: sailors, military forces, and even nunneries have a long history of homosexual behavior.

Of course, the residents of Sigma Draconis 6 won't have "gay" relationships that look like modern human ones: They have no notion of "husband and wife." They don't raise children together, don't have one employed partner and one housekeeper. (The men probably need every able-bodied person working for survival; the women's physical needs are all met by the Controller.) So their relationships – which may not be limited to pair-bonding the way that child-raising couples tend to be – would be mostly invisible to casual, short-term visitors like Kirk and his crew.

When the Morg realize that Spock is Kirk's oath-bonded partner, his assault on the women's complex will make so much more sense to them!

Two stars – mostly for the fascination of "how does that work?"; bump it to three if you've been drinking enough to put yourself in a pleasant fog.

Anything but Star Trek

by Lorelei Marcus

I think we're entering a new era. The music feels different, as if it's finally finding its groove after many years of experimentation. The politics are different, too, with black delegates trying to sit at the convention (and a young Julian Bond making a plausible run for Vice President!), and a weird match-up between two Vice Presidents.

Most of all, the TV is different. It's all in color, and there's just so many shows, most of them new. From Julia to The Mod Squad, everyone's jumping to be the fresh, hip thing.

Except, apparently, Star Trek.

It's ironic that this show, which broke new ground on television in not just science fiction but ethnic diversity chose to take such a step back into the past for its Season 3 debut. "Spock's Brain" felt like a plot straight out of the '50s. The society separated by men and women, the spooky science beyond our understanding, and even the new, tighter-fitting uniforms made the episode feel right at home next to Forbidden Planet.

What's worse, this quaint exploration of an alien society clashed sharply with the actual Enterprise and crew. For instance, the (excellent!) scene in which the bridge crew decide which of the three Sigma Draconis planets to investigate in search of Spock's brain feels like a scene from another show—and might as well be: the sentient races on the other planets never become relevant to the episode.

The bridge becomes the briefing room in one of the best scenes of the episode.

I didn't actually have much problem with the whole "brain removal" element of the plot, just how it was executed. A lot of the lines felt forced and corny, particularly Spock's indifferent voice-overs. His dialogue should have been the highlight of the episode, not the drag. Also, the surgery montage at the end of the episode was cheap, taken straight from Ben Casey or maybe even General Hospital. I was laughing too hard at that point to care whether or not the brain restoration surgery was a success.

Don't get me wrong. I did enjoy the episode at the time, and the actors salvaged what they could with the lines they were given, but it ultimately left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm disappointed that "Spock's Brain" was chosen to be the debut of Season 3. Perhaps a tongue in cheek episode like this (assuming the camp is deliberate) could have been fine midseason, but putting it front and center feels disrespectful to the show and characters, not to mention the audience. I don't regret writing all those letters to Mort Werner to keep Star Trek alive, but I fear the result may be a degraded, less sophisticated program.

Let's hope this episode is a fluke and not representative of the rest of the season.

Three stars

Minority Report

by Gideon Marcus

I'm going to go out on a limb here. I enjoyed this episode. Perhaps it was the endless summer over which I was starved for new Trek. Maybe it was the terrific giggles I got out of every time one of the gifted cast had to seriously pronounce the words "Spock's Brain" (usually preceded by variations of "Where are we going to look for…" and "Give back…")

The story didn't bother me. Was it rushed with intriguing concepts left undeveloped? Sure, but that's par for the course. There are only 50 minutes each week with which to introduce a plot and resolve it. The rest must be done with shorthand. Indeed, the episode wastes little time, clanging into action with a red-alert signal. And while Kirk does destroy a 10,000 year old society with no compunctions, he's done so before, under similar conditions ("Return of the Archons" and "The Apple"), and the Federation has specialists to help clean up the ensuing mess. Plus, in this case, it was personal—they'd taken (chortle) Spock's Brain!

Speaking of plots we've seen before, Spock's Brain (guffaw) is really just the inverse of "Return to Tomorrow". In that episode, three disembodied brains want Spock's Body (and those of Kirk and Dr. Ann Mulhall).

Of course, in the cold light of day, when I can't be swept along by the superb pacing, the new scoring, the slick new uniforms, the beautiful Daniels-shot bridge (how about those lovely viewscreen shots?!), getting to see all of the B-team doing their jobs, Scotty's disaster of a new hair style (did Jimmy's new wife Anita approve of this?), I can see there are issues with the episode. For instance, the idea of snatching a brain to power a society is fine. The notion of finding the best brain for the job makes sense. But Sigma Draconis had three class M planets in it. Surely there were scholars on Planet 3 or scientists on Planet 4 who could have done the job. (Also, Planet 4, with a technology grade of "G" or 2030 A.D. presumably has space travel and perhaps even warp drive—why hadn't they settled/explored Planet 6?)

Also, all this gas about "ion propulsion" being the cat's meow made no sense. Ion propulsion is something we use today, which I talked about in my article on the (failed) satellite ATS 4. It is a low thrust , economical drive that uses the constant ejection of cesium atoms to propel a spacecraft. Maybe Scotty's "ion propulsion" means something different, but it sounds goofy without further explanation. It's why Trek moved from "lasers", which are new but well known, to "phasers", which are made up but sound cool. Call it "muon" propulsion or better yet (to make up a word) "buon" or something.

"She's steam-powered, Cap'n! Far beyond what we can do with antimatter…"

All that said, I want to think that this rather silly script was Trek's essay at deliberate camp, sort of how The Trouble with Tribbles and A Piece of the Action were deliberate comedy and Catspaw was deliberate Halloween creepiness. In any event, the episode accomplished the main goal, which is that I'm eager to see what's on next week…even if it means I have to stay up past my bedtime to watch the furshlugginer thing, now that they've moved the air time to 10 P.M.!

3.5 stars

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 14, 1968] Men, Women, and Monsters (June 1968 Galactoscope)

June 14, 2023 Victoria Silverwolf 2 Comments

by Victoria Silverwolf

Physicians (and Nurses), Heal Thyselves

Anonymous cover art, and it has nothing at all to do with the book.

A Piece of Martin Cann, by Laurence M. Janifer

My fellow Galactic Journeyers have reviewed a couple of Janifer's books (Slave Planet and The Wonder War) and found them lacking. Let's see if this one is any better.

The time is the second half of the 21st century. There are references to a devastating plague that happened a long time ago, travel to the planets in the solar system, and the replacement of all nations and governments with a single, worldwide authority.

Never mind all that, because these science fiction themes have nothing at all to do with the story. The novel could easily be set in the very near future, because there is only one important speculative element.

Technology allows people to enter the minds of others. This is used to treat mental illness when all other methods fail.

(The premise is somewhat similar to that of John Brunner's novel The Whole Man. In that book, however, the technique was used by a natural telepath, and did not require machines.)

Two nurses and two physicians enter the mind of a man in a catatonic state. In his imaginary universe, he is God. He has created angels and light, but nothing else. The medical professionals arrive in the form of angels as well.

Their motive is to convince the patient, through argument with the other angels, not to create anything else. Why? Because they believe a fully realized world would prevent him from ever escaping his solipsistic existence.

The process has its dangers for those who use it. We're told it can even be fatal, although there is no real evidence for this. One of the characters will suffer the consequences.

This synopsis is a lot more linear than the plot. The author frequently shifts point of view among the characters. (I haven't even mentioned the patient's mother and girlfriend, who also have important parts to play.)

The book reminds me, in some ways, of D. G. Compton's novel Synthajoy. Both works are introspective and deal with devices that allow one to share another's experiences. Both have depth of characterization, but Janifer's isn't quite as profound as Compton's.

A Piece of Martin Cann also lacks vividness. The scenes of debate among the angels are difficult to picture. Overall, the book fails to provide much emotional involvement.

I admire the author's ambition, even if I question his execution. This is definitely not an ordinary escapist adventure story. It has a touch of New Wave to it. (Although Janifer is American, the novel seems very British to me.) I might describe it as an interesting failure.

Three stars.

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Of Men and Monsters by William Tenn

In the days of yore (also known as 1963) our esteemed editor noted that William Tenn’s Men in the Walls was only half a story. Five years later, we have finally got a novel length version of the tale. Does it fulfil the promise?

Apart from a few minor tweaks, the original novella makes up the first third of the book, renamed Priests for their Learning. In order to avoid repetition, feel free to reread the original synopsis.

The second part Soldiers for their Valor follows the now exiled Eric as he heads into Monster territory, here he meets others, people from further back in the burrows. They do not have experience in fighting monsters as the front burrow people do but have more complex organization and are willing to experiment with alien science in order to try to gain an advantage over the monsters (a subject verboten among the men of the front burrows). However, they end up captured and brought to an experimental laboratory of the monsters. Eric manages to survive being vivisected but is put into the cage of a strange woman.

The third part, Counselors for their Wisdom, finishes the narrative. The woman is named Rachel and she is from the far back burrows where they have retained much more knowledge from man’s time before the arrival of the monsters. After spending much time learning such varied subjects as the nature of the current Earth (the burrow is merely one of many in this particular monster’s house), astronomy and metaphysics. After they fall in love they escape and devise a plan to solve humanity's problems.

After the strong start in the first part, I found it less interesting as it went along. Firstly, moving the majority of action from burrows to the cages in the lab removes a lot of the atmosphere that made the prior segments so effective. In addition, the unveiling of the world moves away from exploration to explanation. For example, rather than encountering the “Wild Men”, who primarily live outside the monsters houses in the open, we are merely told by Rachel that Eric resembles one. This approach leans things away from excitement and more towards tedium.

Secondly, Tenn makes a lot of the points in a clumsy manner. One example is having Eric regard Rachel like a piece of cattle, assessing her viability for mating and thereby showing his lack of understanding of love. Having multi-paragraph descriptions of his thoughts on her naked body feel less poignant and more voyeuristic. Another would be where “little brown men” are put into the cage with men from the burrows we know and they end up fighting over customs.

And then for all of that, it doesn’t end up feeling very profound or unique. I think I can understand the points Tenn is making but it doesn’t feel that different from Micromegas, Giant Killer, Gulliver’s Travels, The Twilight Zone: The Invaders, or a hundred other tales of perspective and size based conflict. On top of that, the ending just felt perfunctory to me and a little silly.

That is not to say there are not good pieces to it. I agree with the initial review that the first section is very strong, Tenn has a great turn of phrase and at points there is a real sense of adventure to it. But it doesn’t really add up to much.

I would give the whole thing three stars, but not anything more.

by Blue Cathey-Thiele

The Still, Small Voice of Trumpets, by Lloyd Biggle

Based on Still, Small Voice, a short story Biggle published in Analog, 1961. The initial work was met with optimism, but left our reviewer disappointed. Let's see how the novel fares.

"Democracy imposed from without is the severest form of tyranny."

This is the Interplanetary Relations Bureau's code, and a bold statement to make. IPR, tasked with guiding planets to qualify for membership in the Federation of Independent Worlds, has been working for over 400 years to unseat a monarchy in Kurr. Forzon, a member of the Cultural Survey, is called to the planet and met with no orders and no democracy – surely there has been a mistake. Something suspicious is happening in the IPR headquarters. He is taught the wrong language, dressed as an enemy, and sent into an ambush. What saves him then will save him later: beauty. The people of Kurr surround themselves with art and even the most mundane items receive decoration.

Kurr has bread and, crucially, circuses. The system is flawed, but the "ugliness" is mainly unseen. The official punishment for any offense (real or imagined) is amputation of the left forearm, the victims sent to "One-hand Villages". Out of sight is out of mind with so much beauty to observe instead. Beauty and morality are often equated, and the book falls into sexism. Artisans pass their craft from father to son in a caste system, and while women play a rounded harp, that is the only note of their artistic endeavors. IPR had attempted to foment dissatisfaction among the women of Kurr, but was met by indifference and a denial that they lacked equal treatment. (I would have liked a better explanation for this, or any explanation at all.) Later, Forzon marries an IPR agent whose most noted trait is a memorable nose.

IPR must work within the existing culture, motivating the people to take action as democracy needs to occur without apparent outside influence. The "Rule of One" allows an exception. A single technological advancement may be introduced… but no one has done it before. It sounds simple. Flintlocks, for example! But those require metalworking, trigger mechanisms, gunpowder. Technologies build on what came before, and progress may look different depending on need. This brings up questions about whether civilizations are actually "more" or "less" advanced… or just different.

Forzon has a trumpet made and given to a newly handicapped harpist, who rejoices in the ability to create music again. Not limited by caste, the One-Hand Villages take up the instrument. Kurr is enchanted, having only known string instruments. The king is as well… until he realizes that the players are one-handed and he bans them as the sight weighs on his conscience. Denied beauty, the people rise up.

Did the rebellion depend on this king having a conscience? Did Forzon play things close to his chest or did he make it up as he went? It's left muddy. Even the IPR agents, despite living so long in Kurr were confused by the cause of the rebellion- which I found hard to believe. The concepts behind the book held up better than the execution. The short story only received 2 stars, so this is still an improvement.

3 stars

by Lorelei Marcus

The Last Unicorn

Once, unicorns filled the forests. They frolicked and played and rested their heads in giggling virgins' laps, indifferent to the passage of time. Then one day they all disappeared, and only one remained. "I am the last," she said. "I must find what happened to the others."

She traveled far and long in a new world that could only see her as a white mare. She found companionship in a uselessly powerful magician and a harlot with a soft heart, who followed her on her travels. And at the end of their journey they came to face a wicked king and his brutal, frightful weapon, the Red Bull. A tale of tragedy and hope, the Unicorn reunites with her kind, but can never dream to be one with them ever again.

I can't help but feel that something is missing.

That was my first thought after finishing The Last Unicorn. I was ready to cast it aside as just another well-written fantasy novel, nothing more, but then friends and family, one after another, came to tell me how wonderful the book was. How fantastic. How excellent. I felt the mystification and perhaps jealousy that Schmendrick felt when he could not touch the Unicorn, but Molly could. Why couldn't I see how wonderful the book was? What was I missing?

I can agree that Peter S. Beagle's writing has a magical quality. The way that his words twist and conceal, describe and suggest, it caters to the human imagination – creating the sense of mystery that fairytales were born from in the first place. His characters, too, run counter to expectation and yet fall into their roles beautifully. Perhaps that is the difference for me. No matter how much Beagle allows his words and characters to push at their boundaries, they are still just words and characters to me. This book is just a story, and painfully, so are the unicorns within it. I think this is the difference between me and others. Others can believe in the magic, even if only for a little while. I simply cannot.

That said, I found the unicorns fascinatingly science-fictional, and thinking about them in an SFnal way made me appreciate the book more.

What are the unicorns? They never die from old age, but they can be killed. They see through disguises and can heal with the touch of their horn. Most importantly, though, they exist outside of time. Here is the passage that struck me most of this fact:

"Often then, between the rush of one breath and the reach of another, it came to her that Schmendrick and Molly were long dead, and King Haggard as well, and the Red Bull met and mastered – so long ago that the grandchildren of the stars that had seen it all happen were withering now, turning to coal – that she was still the only unicorn left in the world" (92).

What is unique about this paragraph is the way the Unicorn foresees the long distant future as if she were already existing there, but lacking the foresight of how her journey will truly end. It viscerally describes her experiencing her inevitable immortality, and yet she has this vision only midway through her journey, long before that time will come. Her human companions live and breathe beside her and yet also, paradoxically, are long dead ancestors in her mind. In a way, she is a fourth dimensional being, capable of seeing the present and elements of the future at the same time.

The Unicorn's ageless immortality and her ability to preserve her home forest in a perpetual spring also support the idea that unicorns are creatures with some dominion over time. The unicorns exist outside of time, adding somewhat to their wonder, and they have the ability to extend some of their immortality to the world and creatures around which they dwell. Perhaps their ability to heal is also a kind of time travel, in which they revert the afflicted body or mind to a time when it was healthy.

As inter-dimensional beings, it would also follow that unicorns would be able to tell false truth. When trapped in Mommy Fortuna's midnight carnival, the Unicorn is not deceived by the overlays the witch puts on her poor display animals. She sees in multiple dimensions their true forms and their disguises, and it is only the soaking of time that make it more difficult for the Unicorn to tell the difference

I think this leads to one of the key themes of the novel: that time affects all things and over time we as living (and eventually dying) creatures affect our world back. The mortals (such as King Haggard) bend the world around them until the earth itself is transformed and bearing their legacy. Meanwhile, the unicorns cannot change, and thus their surroundings do not change either. Their forests remain green and un-hunted, but also never grow beyond their boundaries. The Red Bull, too, is an immortal constant, but it is constrained to always require a master, never ruling its own domain or leaving a visible impact.

So it is only the humans and other mortal creatures that, while constrained by time, also reside within it. They can saturate time with meaning, and that meaning can then permeate the ground, seeping into the three lower dimensions. The unicorns exist statically, outside of time, barred from ever feeling its touch or touching it. They get eternal beauty and life, but they do not love. I do not know which existence is superior, but at least looking at it through this SF lens, I feel that I understand the unicorns and their book a little better. The unicorns are the opposite of the human experience, and by extension I think that makes us aware of what the human experience is. Schmendrick and Molly and even King Haggard are all foils to the unicorn to exaggerate how alien she is. This then reflects back how human her companions are, and how human we the readers are. The last unicorn is a fairytale, but it contains truths so vivid and tied to reality, it seems to exist outside of itself. Therein lies the true magic. Through only the power of words, Beagle creates life.

4 stars

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 4, 1968] Time and time again (Star Trek: "Assignment: Earth")

April 4, 2023 Amber Dubin 10 Comments

by Amber Dubin

Time travel is a concept which every science fiction show must one day address. Yet, unlike the plausibly possible science of navigating space-travel, successfully representing time-travel comes with much greater risk, not only of straining credulity, but of destroying continuity: tearing a time-line—or in this case a plot line—to ribbons. "Assignment: Earth", the last episode of Star Trek's second season does a better job of avoiding the pitfalls of "Tomorrow is Yesterday" and "The City on the Edge of Forever," though it is not without its foibles.

We begin with the announcement that the crew has used the technique they discovered by accident in "Tomorrow is Yesterday" to travel to the past, on purpose this time, to the year 1968 in a cultural observation mission. This mission starts going off the rails pretty much immediately as the ship starts to shake violently. Attention is drawn to the transporter room, where it is found that the transporter pad is intercepting a transporter beam of unknown origin.

Upon the pad materializes Robert Lansing as Gary Seven, a mysterious, cat-carrying, super secret agent sent from a distant "advanced civilization" in order to save planet earth. Captain Kirk is immediately suspicious of the man and the tiny silver-collared black cat, and he orders him to surrender himself for observation while they verify his lustrous claims. Seven briefly appears to comply, despite his insistence that he must be allowed to continue to beam down to the planet, or face the annihilation of earth and life as they know it. He suddenly changes his mind and he and the cat, who he refers to as Isis, launch into an attack where he puts down an entire room full of officers and repels even Spock’s Vulcan nerve pinch before being subdued by the stun of Kirk's phaser.

It then follows that Gary Seven possesses powers to back up his claim as earth's clandestine savior. He easily manages to free himself from the brig using a wand that both deactivates force fields and causes officers he targets to fall into very pleasant-looking slumbers.

It beats being judo chopped!

As he's forging a path to his escape as easily as a knife through butter, the senior officers obliviously discuss the plausibility of his claims and the risks to allowing him to carry out his mission. The dilemma, of course, is the paradox faced by all time travelers: not knowing if one's interference will derail or cause the events meant to occur in history as they know it. On the one hand, Seven could be telling the truth and by detaining him they could be dooming humanity to destruction in 1968. On the other hand, coming back to this moment could be a fated occurrence that prevented a lying, intergalactic criminal alien from destroying the earth in the same way. The opinion of the crew seems split down the middle and the discussion goes nowhere. It's worth noting that Isis is completely underestimated throughout, getting cuddled by Spock and allowed to freely roam the ship, despite it being very obvious to this viewer that she is no ordinary feline.

"A most curious creature, Captain. Its trilling seems to have a tranquilizing effect on the human nervous system. Fortunately, of course, I am immune to its effect."

While the crew is distracted, Gary Seven and Isis manage to escape to beam down to their original destination. The episode then shifts from a typical Star Trek episode to a cross between Mission: Impossible, Get Smart! and Mannix, complete with secret agent gadgets, a wise-cracking super computer and a lovely human secretary named Roberta, who's just as charismatic and whip-smart as she is goofy and unique.

At home in the Seven cave.

The supervisory secret agent checks in to his mission to discover that it's all gone wrong and Roberta is there because the agents who hired her and were supposed to be completing the mission were senselessly killed in an automobile accident before they could bring their plans to fruition.

Gary Seven has Roberta Lincoln give dictation to her typewriter.

Thus ensues a cat-and-mouse game between Seven and Isis (who are trying to complete their mission to sabotage a rocket carrying an orbital nuclear bomb) and Kirk and Spock (who are pursuing trepidatiously, not entirely sure whether they should be helping or thwarting the oddly capable team). Roberta's meddling aids both teams in their conflicting missions, culminating in a nail-biting scene where Kirk makes the last minute decision to trust Seven in the end, and the agent swiftly causes a nuclear warhead to detonate harmlessly in mid-air, thus scaring the world out of participating in a fatal arms race.

A genuinely gripping face-off.

The Enterprise's crew then confirms in their history banks that the time-line has been restored and their interference was actually predicted by the details of the event as recorded in history. This episode does not suffer from a rushed nonsensical 'it was all a dream' ending like "Tomorrow is Yesterday," nor did it have the dissatisfying 'they were never there' conclusion of "The City on the Edge of Forever." Instead, this explanation reflects my favorite and most plausible time travel theory: that contamination is impossible because all actions successfully completed by time travellers were fated to occur because they have always occurred and will always occur exactly as they did.

Overall, I'd say this episode passes muster. I only had two personal arguments with it: First, it seemed like Nimoy was the only actor on set who knew how to hold a cat. The cat seemed to begrudgingly tolerate Lansing but it was only purring in Nimoy's arms (I agree, cat). Second, the fact that they chose 1968 as the "most volatile in earth's history" was clearly an arbitrary decision to make a more comfortable crossover with Lansing's backdoor pilot set in modern times.

I'd say in the Star Trek time-line, the Eugenics Wars/WW3 seem like a much more volatile time in earth's history, and I'd argue that they could gain much more insights from directly observing WW1 or WW2. I didn’t like how the author just left a naked bias towards the particular year chosen which I felt could be easily covered up using an easily fictionizable event.

4 stars for the above reasons, and also because I thought downgrading the sentient cat to a humanoid alien woman at the end was disappointing and unnecessary.

Teri Garr is disappointed, too.

Inhumanly Perfect or Perfectly Human?

By Mx. Blue Cathey-Thiele

This episode ties up neatly and happily – on the surface. How much of what we saw is as it seems, though? Gary Seven didn't cause a world catastrophe, and indeed, may have averted one! But the question of who and what he is remains. He claims to be a human, an agent from a planet that is still unknown in the time of the Enterprise. The Kelvans in "By Any Other Name" also scanned as 'perfectly human' and were decidedly not. He's also immune to the Vulcan neck pinch…

And what of Isis? Is this a cat who can turn into a humanoid being? A woman who can turn into a cat? Or a completely separate alien species altogether? Are they partners, or is there a command structure? Perhaps Isis is Gary's handler.

Beyond this, if Gary was part of the same program as his two lost agents, he would be (according to his own description) a descendant of humans taken from Earth six thousand years ago, all raised and trained to operate on a planet that is no longer a home to them. And as Gary told Isis, they don't intend to stay long. Whether he means in the year 1968 or on Earth, the here and now is something he finds almost unlivable. After generations of living away from Earth, would any agent feel at home there? One wonders if he really does have "lots of interesting adventures in store."

A nice bit: while waiting with Spock down in mission control, Kirk’s supplemental log says he has never felt so helpless. Unlike when he followed McCoy to the 30s, he isn't here to correct a problem and set the path of history to right. As heartbreaking as it was to follow through when told "Edith Keeler must die," he was reacting and preventing a worse outcome. A known quantity, as far as he was aware. Unlike then, he doesn't know what, if any, action is necessary – and in that moment there isn't anything in his power that he can do to change things. All that knowledge, technology, and will… and he is left to watch.

Our heroes, helpless.

The whole reason the Enterprise traveled back in time was to observe a time period so tumultuous that either lack of records or sheer incredulity has the crew wondering just how we make it through. Roberta, however, doesn't have the security of hindsight, saying, "We wonder if we're gonna be alive when we're thirty." It's a bleak thought. Kirk may be reliving his history books, but Roberta is there as they are being written. She's frightened and caught off-guard by the strange people and happenings around her, but even so, she adapts. It may hinder Kirk, Spock, and Gary, but over the course of the episode she tries at least three times to get outside help. When she recognizes that Gary has to be lying and is interfering with dangerous things, she tries to talk him out of it, and puts herself in harm's way to physically prevent him from taking action. If Gary is in a spy thriller, Kirk and Spock in an historical drama, then up until nearly the end, Roberta is cast in a horror. Despite this, she manages to stay a cheery person. Surrounded by both normal—as normal as the current world can be—challenges and time travelers, she does her best. She's out of her depth but she still tries.

Roberta takes control of the situation.

Ultimately, the crew of the Enterprise is left with only their original mission to fulfill: they watch. This isn't their time, and they have neither the responsibility nor the means to change it. On the bridge, Lt. Uhura monitors the channels and hears military powers across the globe preparing to respond. Kirk and Spock are equally powerless in the control room as they are in front of Gary Seven's computer. All they can do is listen to Roberta, and step back to allow Gary to finish what he started. The only way out is through.

There was little action from my favorite crew, but within the context of the story, that fit. Gary, Roberta, and Isis were interesting new characters and I would enjoy seeing them again.

3 stars

Colonel Savage

by Lorelei Marcus

I have seen Robert Lansing star in many other shows, from Twelve O' Clock High to the shortlived The Man Who Never Was and even The 4D Man. I have always been charmed by his grave and understated performances. “Assignment: Earth” was no exception; it was delightful to see Lansing as a mild-mannered, cat-petting spy from outer space. My only grievance with the character is that he must live and die within a single Star Trek episode.

Gary Seven, Secret Agent (hey, better than Amos Burke!)

To a degree, the Star Trek setting is a strength. Gary 7 expands the Star Trek universe further beyond the Enterprise, introducing an alien world and beings that even Kirk and Spock can’t find. There is also fun in seeing different SF worlds collide. Two years ago I received audio tapes from England and reports of the new Doctor Who, an ongoing SF show on TV across The Pond. Gary 7 reminds me strongly of the Doctor, with his space-traveling machine and his plucky young human companion. (There are notable differences, of course, like his cat and stun-gun pen gadget, which feels more out of a spy flick than SF). Seeing our space-faring heroes encountering a being reminiscent of the Doctor and witnessing the adventures that ensued was quite amusing. (And sounds like a story I might have to write for the next issue of The Tricorder!)

The tragedy is not just that we only get to see Gary 7 once, but the very limitation of his screen time means his actor doesn't get quite enough time to breathe. Lansing thrives in a starring role where he can mold the show around him to his mood and level. His portrayal suffered for having to split the spotlight with the regular Trek heroes, leaving only glimpses of the potential of what he and the character could have been in their own show. I mourn the loss of what could have been, but for giving me anything at all, I give the episode five stars.

That's a wrap!

by Gideon Marcus

This was the first episode we got to see secure in the knowledge that there will be another season of our favorite science fiction show. I will say this for it—it's different! Sure, we've seen the Enterprise go to past Earth before, and we've seen lots of period pieces (this episode must have been particularly cheap), but the intersection of two powerful races, and the focus for much of the episode on an independent guest star, made for a very unusual experience.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. In some ways, it dragged down the pace of the episode, reducing Kirk and co. into a bunch of bystanders. On the other hand, that's how life is sometimes—you're not always the star. In the end, I'd say this was a successful experiment, but one not likely to be repeated…unless Trek turns into a true anthology show, which I would not necessarily be opposed to.

Some things the show did extremely well. The integration of the very recent Apollo 4 launch was particularly good. I also appreciated the incorporation of Fractional Orbital Bombardment System (FOBS) technology. This is absolutely accurate, though I think only the Soviets actually are testing such a system. Several of their "Kosmos" tests have actually been launches of nukes on rockets that sail into space and then deorbit before completing a first orbit, thus allowing them to land anywhere. It's a terrifying development, and one I hope will be banned if the superpowers update last year's Outer Space Treaty.

We'd probably use a Titan, not a Saturn, but this is a divergent history.

As for how "Assignment: Earth" serves as an ending to Season 2, well, it's kind of an odd duck. It doesn't hit any of the main subjects we've seen thus far—no Klingons or Romulans, no Vulcan notables; just a joyride through time. I feel that the show might have been better served ending on a more Trek-ish episode, something like Mirror, Mirror or Journey to Babel. Instead, we got the 22nd Century's equivalent of Wild, Wild West.

Well, I guess it fits in alright. After all, like the season as a whole, there were high points, low points, but overall, we enjoyed the experience. Moreover, we got to see Robert Lansing, which is appropriate given that Trek cribbed the iconic "Enterprise theme" from Lansing's show, Twelve O' Clock High.

3.5 stars.

Live long and prosper, and we're looking forward to resuming Trek coverage in September!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 18, 1968] I Would Advise Yas ta Keep Watching (Star Trek: "A Piece of the Action")

January 18, 2023 Tam Phan 10 Comments

by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It’s hard to contain the joy that this episode brings to my heart. I’m a sucker for gangster films, like “Ocean's Eleven” and “Bonnie and Clyde”, but I have to admit, I’m always wary when a film does time travel. Period pieces tend to get things wrong one way or another, but “A Piece of the Action” somehow gets it all wrong in exactly the right way. This episode is chock full of amusing interactions that will engage you if for no other reason than it being delightfully fun.

Earth-like alien planets with humanoid populations have awkwardly made their way into Star Trek (e.g. "Miri", "A Taste of Armageddon"). This time, we finally get a plausible explanation for one. In this week's episode, the Enterprise is ordered to report to Sigma Iotia II. The spaceship Horizon went missing about 100 years earlier and is suspected to have contaminated the culture of the planet. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam down to the planet’s surface to meet with a Mr. Oxmyx to see what they can do about the contamination.

Let the contamination begin!

They are greeted by armed men wielding Tommy guns in an old-fashioned city suspiciously similar to America in the 1920s. Our landing party is escorted to see Oxmyx and discover that the Horizon crew left an old Earth book called “Chicago Mobs of the Twenties” on the planet. It was mentioned that the Iotians are imitative, which would account for their desire, given a blueprint, to emulate our past. It explains the culture and style, but it's clear the mimicry is skin-deep, which makes sense if they only have one book to go on. For example, during their negotiations, Oxmyx haphazardly shoots billiard balls around the table, and in the next scene when the henchmen are playing poker, it’s not any version that I’ve ever seen. It’s convincing until it’s not, but it’s convincing because it’s not.

"Don't tell me how to play Old Maid!"

Kirk interrupts their game to show them fizzbin (a fictitious game in which Kirk improvises the rules). It’s so absurd that he contradicts himself while explaining the rules of the game. Do you want a third Jack or not? Only Kirk knows. While the henchmen are distracted, Spock and McCoy clobber their captors and successfully escape to the radio station. Kirk decides to split off to find Oxmyx and is captured by Krako’s men. Typical.

Krako, Boss of the south side territory, is seen awkwardly throwing darts over his shoulder before Kirk enters, escorted by Krako’s men. He attempts to negotiate a deal with Kirk that would make Krako top Boss. Kirk isn't necessarily opposed; his aims aren't actually that different from that of the Iotians: Each Boss wants to take enough territory to become top Boss and Kirk thinks a unified government is a good idea, too. The difference is method–Kirk wants negotiation to determine the top Boss, not war. The deal falls through, of course. Krako doesn’t seem like the type to negotiate, stating that, “the book tells us how to handle things.”

A wild series of events ultimately gives Koik the perfect excuse to play a hunch. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Koik and Spahck don the local garb and comically make their way back over to Krako’s place. The deal is that the Fed is takin’ over and he’s offered a piece of the pie, but little does he know, Koik’s got other plans. They put the bag on all the mob bosses while Krako’s on ice, ya see. Koik shows a small display of power and negotiates a deal to have Oxmyx be the head of the Syndicate with Krako as his lieutenant. The Federation gets a 40% cut.

What happens when you mess with the Federation.

This episode gives us a lighthearted look at the mob and a unique perspective on how an alien species might mimic a culture. Without minor details to guide them, it’s understandable that they wouldn’t know the rules to 9-ball, poker, or darts. Shatner’s Shatnerisms played well in this setting, and it was fantastic to see Spock have every logical reason to not object to Kirk playing a hunch. Not only that, but he gets to deliver the best line in the episode (adapted to title this article). The supporting cast was wonderful, and I’ve got no beef with this episode.

Five stars.

Against the Odds

by Lorelei Marcus

I will be the first to admit that, despite all it accomplishes, Star Trek has some major recurring flaws. Any show, particularly one that presents a world technologically beyond anything we can understand today, requires a modicum of suspension of disbelief. Such suspension becomes tested as increasingly outlandish claims are thrown around by the characters (particularly our beloved Captain Kirk) and such theories become the basis of the solution for an entire episode. Think Kirk divining the original purpose of the Doomsday Machine, or Jack the Ripper's ghost haunting across space-time (seriously THAT'S the most logical explanation for a series of interplanetary murders?) Sometimes the setup itself can destroy one's immersion, like "Miri" beginning with a planet completely identical to Earth. Or maybe it's a contradiction of preestablished rules in the universe that breaks an episode; Kirk seems to conveniently forget about the Federation's noninterference clause in "The Apple" and "Return of the Archons".

"A Piece of the Action" does everything I've mentioned above, but it does it right. I had my doubts when I first saw the preview for this episode. The Tommy guns and pinstripe suits made me expect another time travel jaunt like "City on the Edge of Forever". Instead, the explanation for the 20s gangster background is quite reasonable and SFnal: a hundred years ago the Federation tampered with a preindustrial planet, and the society of that planet has been modeled around the information the Federation left for them, including a textbook on gangs in the twentieth century. How concise and satisfying an explanation! And it also provides reason for why the Federation later implemented the noninterference clause – to avoid situations like this.

Imagine what they might have found if the Horizon had left the Bible…

This is the cue for Kirk, in his cowboy Kirk fashion, to decide that the structure of the society is not up to his personal moral standards and therefore he has the right to change it. Except this time it makes sense. As Kirk explains the episode, the anarchist state of this planet is the Federation's fault, and in this special case the noninterference clause has limited application because they have to fix the damage they've caused.

Even then, they try to minimize contact between the natives and Starfleet's advanced technology to allow the society to progress and mature on its own course. This has the added bonus of leading to some rather amusing fistfights.

Finally, while the solution of the episode does rest on Kirk's hunch, this too is set up in advance. Kirk both consults the ship's computer and Spock to suss out a logical course of action to save the planet. Only when both sources fail to give him answers does he decide to act on instinct instead. And when he finally carries out his plan, it actually makes sense! He manages to unite all of the gangs into a central government by posing as a larger, more threatening authority. All it takes is Shatner's progressively more dramatic Chicago accent.

I couldn't give this episode higher praise. It elegantly evades the pitfalls of Star Trek while also telling an engaging, funny, and science fiction story.

Five stars.

Embracing the Absurd: A Motto

by Andrea Castaneda

Truth be told, I had a difficult time formulating my thoughts for this episode. At first, I wanted to discuss the themes of authoritarianism. Then I was tempted to look at the governmental structures of a “lawless” society. But the more I thought back on the episode, the more I realized I was overthinking it. “A Piece of the Action” had me laughing with delight rather than putting me in deep thought. And perhaps that was the intention: a lighthearted way to play “cops and robbers” through the world of Star Trek. But even if one can peel back the layers, one can glean a simple lesson: when you find yourself standing in absurdity, embrace it.

First and foremost, I have to commend the writers for playing to Shatner’s strengths. From the comically over the top accent to donning a pinstripe suit, you could tell Shatner was having a gas the entire time. If I were a betting woman, I would wager good money that he was bouncing up and down in his chair as he read the script. Spock, meanwhile, did an excellent job at playing the “straight man” to Kirk’s ostentatiousness. His rigid and awkward attempts at playing a mobster not only highlighted how ridiculous the situation was, but also gave us some great deadpan deliveries.

As for the story itself, well, we’ve established how absurd the premise is. In fact the show explicitly states that there are no logical solutions out of this, shown when Spock goes through his various computer simulations. So, what can the crew of the Enterprise do? The only “logical” thing: outdo the absurdity. And that’s where the episode shines.

"What's the computer suggest, Spock?" "I've…got…zilch."

A mobster henchman foreshadows the concept at the start of the episode, telling Kirk, Spock, and McCoy “that innocent act don’t work on me.” And as predicted, their attempts at peaceful diplomacy only get them into more trouble. But their luck starts to turn when Kirk realizes the mobsters, in all their bluster and moxie, are pretty easy to manipulate. Playing to their sense of stubborn pride, he makes up a card game and flatters them enough to get them to drop their guard. When dealing with the bosses, he learns to come down to their level, framing concepts like taxes into terms they understand. Finally by the end of the episode, Kirk has smooth talked his way into becoming the head honcho of this cartoonish cabal of bosses and wise guys. It’s ludicrous, but still plausible enough to work.

This episode could have very easily become inane, puerile, and flat out stupid. But the self awareness from the writers and actors alike, combined with Shatner’s enthusiasm, gave it a charm that had us laughing along with them the entire way.

If I were one for clichés, I could say that embracing absurdity is a lesson we all can benefit from from time to time. But being realistic, I would say the writers wanted a palate cleanser for what appears to be a much heavier episode next week. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll be rummaging through my closet to see if I have anything pinstripe.

Four stars.

Pinch-hitting

by Gideon Marcus

Last week, I noted that the usual show runners had gone AWOL, to the detriment of the episode's quality. This week, I was made trepidatious by the unknown names "David P. Harmon" (writer) and "James Komack" (director). Moreover, the previews had led me to believe that this was going to be another silly time travel episode.

In fact, what we got was not only a thoroughly entertaining second-contact story, but one of the best made episodes of Star Trek we've seen in a while.

The editing and cinematography is some of the crispest and original we've seen to date. There's nary a flat moment, thanks to the quick cutting and innovative camera wrangling. Even the music, which I think was entirely from the library, fit the episode to a "T" – from the lilting strains lifted from "The Trouble with Tribbles" to the bombshell introduction tune from "Mudd's Women".

The director did an excellent job of reining in Mr. Shatner this time around. While many of his favorite tics were on display, they did service in differentiating "Koik the Boss" from "Kirk the Captain." And while Shatner often shone, he did not steal the scene.

Part of that was the snappy writing that put truly funny and effective lines in the mouths of Bones, Spock, and Scotty. Part was the performances Komack elicited from his stars. Even Uhura, though she gets very few lines, is memorable; the smile she gets when she realizes what Kirk has planned for Jojo Krako is just delightful.

Speaking of which, how about those guest stars? Anthony Caruso (Bela Oxymyx) is an old hand, of course, and Vic Tayback, who is everywhere these days, and who does a creditable impression of George C. Scott in The Yellow Rolls Royce, is fantastic as Krako.

George C. Tayback

Finally, the sartorial touch of giving each gang's henchmen different headgear (fedoras for Oxmyx, straw hats for Krako's, bowlers for Tepo's) was brilliant.

Five stars!

This week, the Enterprise will be fighting the paramecium of doom!

Join us tomorrow at 5:00 PM Pacific (8:00 Eastern) or at 8:00 PM Pacific (11:00 Eastern)!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 4, 1968] How much for that fuzzy in the window? (Star Trek: The Trouble with Tribbles")

January 4, 2023 Joe Reid 5 Comments

No Tribble at All

by Joe Reid

Following on the heels of an episode that I found to be problematic, with the introduction of the outer space ghostly version of Jack the Ripper, Star Trek fans everywhere have been gifted with an episode that is a successful combination of the sci-fi and comedy genres. Brothers and sisters, “The Trouble with Tribbles” was well written, well-acted, and well scored. It was not just good sci-fi and good TV; I would go as far as considering it an instant classic, a technicolor rendition of some of my favorite comedies in the vein of Dick Van Dyke or Lewis and Martin.

The episode started off giving a small a hint to what was in store. The Enterprise was speeding along in space. Kirk, Spock, and Chekov were meeting to discuss the upcoming mission to Space Station K-7. It is at the meeting that Chekov makes a quip about the Klingons being so close to K-7 that we could smell them. It’s then that Spock jumped in, playing the straight man, letting him know that smelling people in space was illogical. The actor who played Chekov was able to stretch his comedic legs in this episode. The young man took almost every opportunity to make funny statements about how everything was either discovered by or invented by Russians.

Davidushka Ivanov, now sporting his own hair!

Soon after the Enterprise got an emergency distress call from the K-7 space station. They rushed in to come to the rescue with their phasers ready to blast and found that there was no emergency or attack to speak of. Kirk was angered by this and butted heads with the Federation official that was just the type of weasel to get under Kirk’s skin. It was here where we started to see a series of gags being set up. We had one situation where everyone else knew about a magical new grain except Kirk, which irked him to no end. Scotty turned from bookish to a bad influence on young officers by getting into a fight when someone insulted the Enterprise. A salesman named Cyrano Jones, trying to make a few space bucks and get free drinks from the bar on K-7, unleashed a locust swarm of cute, furry, rapidly multiplying critters that ended up getting in everything, everywhere. These "tribbles", the namesake of the episode, were the glue that bound this ensemble together. Yes, they were troublesome, but it was in a way that made for a fun time.

Enough fun for everyone!

By ensemble I also mean the cast. All the actors had plenty of lines and were important to the story, the Klingons included. We also saw the crew showing off comedic timing, slapstick antics, and giving each other funny looks when things went awry. All of the characters and situations that were set up in the episode were hilarious and served the story well. The tribbles and the Klingons made this episode very Star Trek and the wonderful acting made the comedic notes hit their marks.

"Hey, plebe in the back–thanks a lot for the help!"

By the end of the episode there were a mess of tribbles, a mess of a brawl, and a mess of a situation that Kirk and crew had to fix. Which they did to the satisfaction of all. I’ve purposefully kept the small details of the episode to myself, so as not to diminish the joy of anyone who hasn’t seen this episode. This episode needs to be watched. Check your local listings to find out when the next airing happens in your area. It will be worth your time.

Five stars

Cute, but Dangerous

by Robin Rose Graves

It’s easy to understand the appeal of Tribbles. Soft fur, sweet purring to melt your heart and a friendly disposition (that is, if you aren’t a Klingon). It’s no wonder someone thought these would make an excellent pet! Or the perfect merchandise, as Cyrano Jones noted, their prolific nature made for easy stock.

As Bones investigated Tribble biology after Lt. Uhura agreed to part with one of her Tribbles’ offspring, he concluded that Tribbles are “born pregnant” or “bisexual” in nature, meaning they are capable of impregnating themselves. This made me wonder what kind of environment Tribbles originated from that would cause them to evolve these unique features. For one, they are obviously a type of prey, producing more offspring than will live to maturity. Not only are Tribbles prolific, but they waste no time in reproducing, suggesting that Tribbles have a short lifespan and are so endangered in their native environment that they can’t waste time in finding a mate. If a Tribble does not immediately produce, they risk extinction.

But while not actively aggressive, Tribbles proved to be, as the episode title suggested, troublesome.

Not to mention cumbersome.

Without their natural predators to keep their numbers in check, Tribbles multiplied out of control. In this episode, it was rather comedic how they spread throughout the Enterprise and gobbled up an entire supply of grain. But imagine if this episode took place on planetside instead, how devastating the effects of these adorable little critters could be. They live to eat and reproduce and as we’ve seen with the grain, Tribbles never seem to get their fill. On a foreign planet without predators, they would devour entire crops and local flora into extinction, causing colonies to starve, as well as any other grazing alien life – and should those grazing prey die, their predators would in turn starve. Tribbles might be the universe’s cutest bioweapon. Clearly there are laws to prevent the spread of harmful alien life, as at the end of the episode, Cyrano Jones faces 20 years in prison.

On the other hand, if Tribbles are edible and nutritious for humans, I’d argue they’d make the perfect source of protein for space traveling vessels.

"Tribbles and beans for dinner again?"

Even if Tribbles aren't tasty, they probably will make for some tres chic fur coats.

The concept of invasive species (a la rabbits in Australia) is an interesting aspect of space travel which science fiction doesn’t often address. This episode does so well and all the while being delightfully entertaining.

Five Stars.

A soldier, not a diplomat?

by Erica Frank

One of the fascinating parts of this episode was comparing Kirk's interactions with the Klingons to those with his own government officials.

With captain Koloth of the Klingons, he is cordially hostile: Both he and they are aware that their governments are rivals, bordering on enemies. There is no official warfare between them, but they both seem to know it's coming someday. They smile and talk politely while they are both aware that they would cheerfully kill each other to protect their people.

The station master does not have the authority to deny them access, but Kirk apparently does, since he can set rules about their visit. But he also knows that just saying "go away" without reason will escalate the hostilities, so he confines himself to requiring guards on them. There's no way to know if the resulting bar fight was better or worse than whatever would have happened if the Klingons had had free access to the station.

Nobody is happy to be here and yet everyone is smiling. Except for Spock. He doesn’t count.

On the other hand, we have Kirk's relations with Baris, the Agricultural Undersecretary. With him, he is not cordially hostile, but shows outright, direct animosity. He chafes under the forced authority. This is not because he can't follow orders (he obeyed the "Code 1 Emergency" call without question), but because he believes the Undersecretary has poor judgment and is wasting valuable resources–that is to say, the Enterprise's resources and crew's time. And he's not at all shy about telling him, even in front of the Klingons, that he's unhappy to comply.

In the end, the Undersecretary's fears were pointless; no number of guards could have protected the already-poisoned grain. And the presence of the Klingons turned out to be a blessing: without them, and the tribbles' shrieking anger (or fear), they would not have identified Darvin. They might have noticed that the tribbles didn't like him–but without the Klingons for comparison, they wouldn't have known why. They probably would not have uncovered his role as an enemy agent.

We don't have any evidence that Koloth was aware of the plot at all, but once it was discovered a Klingon agent poisoned the grain, he'd be under heightened scrutiny. Kirk gives him an easy out: Leave the area immediately, and nobody has to go through an interrogation that might kick off a war. Kirk can afford to be generous; after all, they did provide him a convenient way to spot their turncoat.

The only question left in my mind: Who are the people of Sherman's Planet, and why don't they get to choose which government will rule their skies?

Five stars.

Strange new worlds

by Lorelei Marcus

I appreciate any Star Trek episode that expands the scope of its fictional universe, but "Trouble with Tribbles" was a special treat. We get an expansion of the Federation's internal structure and range of command: not only is there an undersecretary of agriculture, but the Federation appears to be directly responsible for new colony projects. Private venture still seems to be a driving motivation for the seeding of new planets, but the Federation is in charge of approving and carrying out the operation as the central governmental figure in the universe. The Enterprise and her twelve sister ships comprise Starfleet, the Federation's military arm, tasked to defend against hostile alien empires.

Speaking of which, we also get our third glimpse of the Klingons, still at odds with Starfleet over space territory, and our first mention of the Organian Treaty after its establishment. The Treaty plays a decent role in the episode, and it's so refreshing to see a science fiction series utilize elements from previous episodes to create a believable and concrete universe. I enjoyed the anthology format of Twilight Zone, and even the more episodic nature of the first season of Star Trek, but I am loving this new direction for continuity across episodes even more.

My favorite part of this week's show, however, was the variety of new characters and locations. Getting to see several rooms in and the exterior of the deep space station K7 was very exciting. The completely new sets and models brought the station to life, and emphasized how narrow our perspective on The Enterprise really is. The adventures on Kirk's ship are but a narrow sliver of the possible stories to be told in the Star Trek universe.

Dig this nifty two-person transporter!

Furthermore, this was one of the few instances we get to see members of the Federation who are not part of Starfleet. The tribble tradesman in particular interests me, because he represents a world of people we have yet to see. Nearly everyone we've encountered so far comes from fairly similar backgrounds, either Starfleet Academy trained, a colonist, or an alien. Cyrano Jones is just an asteroid-hopping merchant, probably with little traditional education, and from unknown origins. He is the common man, working to earn enough credits to make a living, and the type of person we hardly see as we are led to the fringes of the galaxy aboard The Enterprise. He reminds us that there are billions of people out there within a thriving bureaucratic and economic structure that spans the galaxy, all of which is just offscreen. Never before have I seen such an ambitious attempt to portray a universe with such depth through the medium of television.

Five stars.

This is the face you'll be making if you don't join us for Trek tomorrow!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[December 28, 1967] Stumbling Bloch (Star Trek: "Wolf in the Fold")

December 28, 2022 Janice L. Newman 6 Comments

by Janice L. Newman

‘Twas a few nights before Christmas when we all gathered around our TV set for the newest episode of Star Trek. I felt a pang of fear more suited to October than December when I saw the episode’s byline: this was yet another Robert Bloch script.

Robert Bloch gave us What Are Little Girls Made Of? and Catspaw. It’s clear he has a taste for fantasy and horror, but less interest (or at least less skill) when it comes to writing science fiction. I hoped that this episode would be different. And for a while, it seemed like it was.

The episode opens with a scene on Argelius, a ‘pleasure planet’ where dwells a society of hedonists. Before the opening credits even play, though, one of the planet’s resident’s is murdered and Scotty is found holding the knife!

The circumstantial evidence is damning, but Scotty can’t remember anything. McCoy expresses concern that Scotty recently suffered a concussion and may therefore not be responsible for his actions. After some discussion with Hengist, an imported bureaucrat from Rigel Four, and Jaris, the plant’s prefect, McCoy and Kirk are allowed to beam down a “psycho tricorder”. This device, operated by a pretty lieutenant who beamed down with it, will supposedly produce a record of all of Scotty’s conscious and subconscious actions from the past day, enabling him to demonstrate that he isn’t guilty.

Unfortunately, the machine must be operated in private. Why is this unfortunate? Because no sooner are Scotty, the machine, and the lieutenant left alone together, than there’s a scream and Scotty is found once again standing over the body of a murdered woman.

"I can't leave you alone for a second!"

Since the modern approach to finding the truth hasn’t worked (and no one considers sending down another lieutenant, maybe a male one this time?) Jaris states that his wife, Sybo, will use her empathic contact talent to discern the truth. As she prepares herself for the ritual, we’re introduced to a couple of other interested parties: the father and the fiance of the first woman to be murdered. The fiance shamefacedly admits that he was ‘jealous’, clearly a great taboo in this hedonistic society.

Sybo begins her ritual, which is set up much like a seance. The group hold hands while seated around a low table, the lights are off, and Sybo cries out that there is evil present, finishing with a shouted, “Redjack! Redjack!” and a scream. When the lights come up, she is on her feet in front of Scotty, who watches with horror as she collapses, a knife clearly visible in her back.

"Don't give it to me, Scotty! I don't want it!"

Up to this point I was actually enjoying the episode. I love mysteries, and have consumed plenty of the greats: Conan Doyle, Dickson Carr, Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, you name it. I was ready for this to be a locked-room mystery with an unexpected solution.

Well, it did have an unexpected solution. But it wasn’t discovered via clever logic or deduction.

After the death of Sybo, Kirk and McCoy convince a grieving Jaris that the ship’s computer can give them the name of the murderer if they feed it enough data. When they begin doing so, their extrapolations make sense – at first. But Kirk and the others make increasingly ridiculous leaps of logic (which always turn out to be true) until they reach the inevitable conclusion:

It turns out the murderer is…JACK THE RIPPER! Who is actually an alien entity who FEEDS ON FEAR! Who upon discovery proceeds to shed his body and TAKE OVER THE SHIP’S COMPUTER!

"Either these are slides of my last prostate exam, or we're in trouble…"

It’s as silly as it sounds. It was particularly frustrating, in fact, because the mystery could have had a satisfying ending with the unexpected reveal that the nebbishy Hengist was actually the murderer. There was no need for the melodrama and lightshow and supernatural elements.

But this was a Robert Bloch script. I guess you get what you pay for.

The first half was four stars (it would have been five if it had had a satisfying resolution). The second half was two stars. Averaging it out, I give the episode as a whole three stars.

Something Blue

by Joe Reid

As a dedicated watcher of Star Trek, I look forward to the discovery of the aliens they encounter. Not every episode showcases new alien life, but it happens often enough and it is fun enough to keep things fresh. This week I found myself disappointed with the creature. It came off as if Bloch attempted to follow the popular advice given to young brides when crafting this week’s creature. There was something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. The “Wolf in the Fold” as the title of the episode alluded to, was a hodgepodge of disparate things that didn’t really work for me.
Starting with something old. The creature of the week was made out to be something ancient and evil. How ancient, you might ask? Around 80 years in the past from today (1967). Granted that might seem old to a character in the far-flung future. My patience was further strained by the addition of “Jack the Ripper” as the creature's identity. To me, it came off as a cheap trick, including a recent historical boogie-man to be the antagonist.

"Jack the Ripper?! Isn't that dumb?"

Something new and something borrowed took the form of the creature being composed of traits that were done better in other episodes of Star Trek. In previous episodes, as recent as this season, we were introduced to “The Companion” in “Metamorphosis” and the smoke monster from last week’s “Obsession” with examples of non-physical aliens. Even in last season’s “Charlie X”, we saw powerful aliens that didn’t have bodies. Non-corporeal aliens were new and better represented in these other episodes. Borrowing from them so near to the last use of the concept feels ill timed, and it reduced the impact for me. Even the crew wasn’t surprised by the unfolding of the monster's nature when they figured it out.

All these parts together, the ancient killer with no body, unless it does have one, as it did at times so that it could eventually be killed, the invisible spirit-like apparition wandering through the cosmos with a penchant for killing attractive young women and framing hapless men, was not that interesting or entertaining once the creature was fully revealed near the end. Granted, this episode had some redeeming elements: the mystery, the action, the colors, the costumes, the beautiful exotic ladies, and the crew of the Enterprise. All would have been better served by anything other than reused concepts and popular English criminals.

This all brings me to my final thought on the episode. Regarding something blue. Rather than being something within the episode, the blue comes is the countenance of the audience. Specifically, myself. This episode made me blue at the end because I have come to expect better from this show. I hope that the upcoming episode will see improvements and avoid use of borrowed concepts.

Two stars.

by Lorelei Marcus

The second sex in Star Trek

What do a brilliant, alluring dancer, a regal high priestess descendant, and a competent lieutenant, high in McCoy's medical team, have in common? They exist only to be murdered for their sex.

I was tantalized by a new alien culture that, like the Vulcans, 200 years ago achieved societal pacifism by rejecting emotions like hatred and jealousy. Yet unlike the Vulcans, they chose to keep positive emotions such as love. What an appealing concept for a love-starved culture like our own, that feeds on foreign war and internal inequality. There is something to learn from Argelius II and its successful methods for preventing all war and violence.

Make love, not war.

Except, these are not the virtues Captain Kirk, or McCoy, or Scotty draw from this planet. They only see that the women here are free to have sex with whom they choose, and enjoy it frequently. Of course that means Argelius II is a pleasure planet, obsessed with hedonism (because apparently free love isn't a concept in the Federation?) Even then, they miss who that pleasure is for. Argelius II is not Orion, with slave girls and servitude. In this society, women are not here for men's enjoyment. They have sexual equality to men, and can choose who and who not to sleep with, and anyone using violence or pressure to force sex is the highest taboo. If only the highest officers of the Enterprise (a ship with a crew evenly divided by sex) saw that.

Every time I heard Kirk talk about women I felt a growing distance from my own species. "The women here… I know a place where the women…" Women are not things, we are not objects, we are people. Generalizing us as "the women" strips away that humanity until all that remains is the imprinted fantasies of men. Seeing the heroes of one of my favorite shows on television speak this way was revolting. Even logical Spock was not immune, claiming "women are more prone to fear and horror," a completely baseless generalization.

But perhaps the most offensive fault of the episode was the women themselves. Never before have I seen so many interesting female characters introduced in quick succession, only to be discarded just as quickly. Narratively, this episode reinforces the dehumanization of women by using them as plot devices rather than characters. Structurally, inside the story and out, women are something else from men; women are not human.

These views do not fit with the universe of Star Trek. Even the promising concepts of Argelius II's society directly contradict such ideology. I suspect the personal opinions of the writer bear some of the responsibility for this disconnect.

Three stars, one for each woman who deserved more time on the screen.

A few of my favorite things

by Gideon Marcus

We've complained in previous episodes about how Kirk always knows the answers, and that his deductions are taken as the truth because he says so. Sure, intuition is a captain's prerogative (as he asserts in "Obsession"), but sometimes, it seems more lazy writing than preternatural abilities.

That's why I really enjoyed (parts of) "Wolf in the Fold". In particular, I like that in the future, lie detectors are infallible, and computers have vast data banks and ability to correlate seemingly unrelated facts. Spock was able to simply ask the ship's computer, based on what had been discussed in the room, who the killer was and even the physical nature of said killer.

"Don't blame me. I just report what the script tells me to."

What impressed me was how real it felt. In some shows (e.g. Lost in Space or The Twilight Zone), the computer is an anthropomorphic being with emotions and human motivations. It reasons like a person, not like a machine. In other shows, a computer has as much independent capacity as a toaster–all it can do is strictly interpret the programs of its human tenders.

The Enterprise's computer strikes a middle path, drawing logical conclusions from existing data at the request of the crew. Imagine one day being able to speak into your pocket computer, the FriendlyVac 2000, and ask something like, "What is the best way to get to Pismo Beach?" or "Which stock is outperforming its capitalization?" or "What color is the most popular for fashion this week?"

Science fiction's job isn't to predict the future, but Robert Bloch has created a convincing possible eventuality, and I dug it.

I also appreciated Scotty's performance this episode. He was near tears in frustration and guilt at appropriate moments. He also put on a great smile at the beginning. Speaking of great smiles, how about that Sulu?

I was less enamored with the fourth act, in which the Enterprise is put in its weekly requisite degree of peril. The show would have been a lot better as a futuristic version of Burke's Law, I think.

Also, while Shatner didn't hunch his shoulders or do the sideways saunter, his verbal tics were in full evidence this episode. It is a shame, given how nuanced and strong his performances were last season, that he has elected to become a caricature of himself. Memorable? Yes. But not in a good way.

Maybe no saunter, but plenty of punctuated swagger.

For these reasons and the ones articulated above, I give "Wolf in the Fold" two and a half stars.

Well, we're finally going to get to see this "Tribble" thing folks have been buzzing about for a few months. Let's hope we have more fun than Kirk!

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction