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[June 14, 1970] Talkin' Loud, Swingin' Soft (June 1970 Watermelon Man, The Landlord, and Cotton Comes to Harlem)

Black and white photograph of a besuited and clean-shaven young Vietnamese man with dark, shoulder-length hair wearing glasses looking at something below the camera and grinning
by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

There’s a volcano that’s ready to erupt on the silver screens, so prepare yourselves for a blast of truth, fury, and funk that has no patience for politeness. These three films, Watermelon Man, The Landlord, and Cotton Comes to Harlem, take a swing at the beast that is American racism as they stumble in their own strange ways trying to wrap their arms around it. These films attempt to not let their audiences off easy as they slap them across the face, daring white America to feel what it’s like to be on the wrong end of the stick. Whether you’re a white boy having your spiritual awakening in a Black neighborhood or a white man literally waking up Black, these films don’t just entertain. They challenge and provoke you with some honesty and a loud Black voice that is no longer asking to be heard.

Watermelon Man: A Punch That Lands… Mostly

Movie poster for with Watermelon Man, depicting a painting of a wedge of watermelon, stylized in palette to suggest the American flag, with a header reading'The Uppity Movie'

Sometimes a movie comes along that doesn’t ask for permission. It just barges in the front door and stares you in the face until you have no choice but to confront it. Watermelon Man is that kind of movie. Melvin Van Peebles throws a grenade into the laps of polite white America, and even when it is a bit of a dud, there is no denying that someone threw it. I was not sure if I was supposed to laugh, cry, or throw my slippers at the screen. Maybe all three. This movie does have guts, but it could have been better executed.

Jeff Gerber (played by Godfrey Cambridge, wearing whiteface so thick he looks like a walking toothpaste ad), a smug, self-satisfied, loud racist that thinks himself a “good guy”, wakes up one morning to find himself Black with no warning or explanation. The world predictably turns on him and suddenly all that privilege he wore like a second skin gets ripped clean off. He is left with the nightmare he has spent his entire life thinking only happens to other people. Insert a crash course in American racism here, delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but for some reason it works. It almost feels natural. The other shoe has dropped, and Van Peebles delivers without wasting any time easing you into anything.

Movie still of Jeff sitting at a busy and coffee-cup-strewn desk smiling and speaking on the telephone, cigarillo in hand
White before the fall.

Jeff’s life falls apart in a matter of days. He has a meltdown, his wife recoils from him, he is stopped on the streets by would-be citizens and the police, and his neighbors plot against him. It is brutal to watch. If I was supposed to laugh, it was not clear what I should be laughing at. His attempts to “whiten” himself using creams and spiritual solutions reminds me that for those of us not born with the golden ticket of whiteness – men like me, a Vietnamese immigrant who has seen the slant of every dirty look and been cowed by the title of being the “model minority” – this movie hits a nerve that is still raw. It is ultimately unsatisfying to see this happen to a white man because this is happening to a Black man and by proxy, all men who are not white.

Movie still showing Jeff seated with a drop-cloth draped over his shoulders and thick white paste slathered covering his head to the point of anonymity, sipping from a milk carton with a straw
White away your fears.

Watermelon Man is not perfect. It walks a strange line between cartoon and cautionary tale. Half of the time, it is all slapstick and Three Stooges, but when the ugliness shows up – the broken marriage and neighbors chasing him out – the movie whiffs on the gut punch. The movie wants to have it both ways and it is only funny if you’re meant to laugh at the clown without feeling sorry for him at the same time. Jeff’s resignation to his circumstances at the end is purely survival. He is not noble. He is not redeemed. He simply has no choice. There is nothing funny about that.

Peebles is angry, without a doubt. I can respect that. We need more Black men behind the camera screaming at America’s cruelties. I can understand the need to soften the blow with a bit of comedy, but this movie pulls its punches. Why are we quickly made to feel sympathy for a man who, just days before, would have gone out of his way to avoid shaking my hand? I suppose that I feel sorry for him because I understand him, but I wonder how it lands for those that do not. That is what concerns me. Maybe Watermelon Man intends to shock white folks awake without scaring them too much, but in doing so, it sells short the very fury it is supposed to be about.

I walked out of Watermelon Man with a mix of satisfaction and frustration. Satisfaction because it speaks a truth that a lot of folks would rather ignore. Frustration because part of me wanted it to cut deeper. Despite that, I appreciate this film. Van Peebles delivers a movie that nobody else in Hollywood would dare to make. In a time when the safe move is to stay quiet, Watermelon Man attempts to hit you with the truth. I just wish it was a truth that cut like a knife rather than a rubber chicken.

Picture of a young Black man with wearing a suit, ducking slightly and angled to the right, looking at the camera playfully, posed as though preparing to throw a punch with his right hand
What if we didn't pull our punches?

This movie needed to be made, and I am glad that it exists. It starts the conversation about an underlying condition in America that has been left undiagnosed for far too long. If this is where it begins, I can not fault it for being cautious. Despite being critical of this movie I think it is worth seeing if for no other reason than to see how easily skin color becomes a prison here in America.

3 out of 5 stars.


The Landlord: White Boy Woke Up

Movie poster for 'The Landlord', showing a close-up of a finger about to press the button for a doorbell, with the caption 'Watch the landlord get his'

It takes a certain kind of person to wake up one day and decide he wants to be deep. Not just rich or clever or free. He wants to be conscious. So, he runs away from home and thinks maybe if he tries hard enough, then he will be a better person. I watched The Landlord not expecting much, but it managed to get stuck in my mind long after it ended. It’s strange how a film from a country not your own can be an uncanny mirror. I, too, ran away from my home because I wanted to make a better life for myself. Of course, it was to escape a war-torn nation, but the feelings are the same. Stepping cluelessly into an unfamiliar culture should not be taken lightly.

Hal Ashby’s directorial debut is humorous, painful, and all too real. The film follows a rich white man named Elgar Enders (played by Beau Bridges) who buys an apartment block in a poor Black neighborhood in Brooklyn. He wants to renovate it, make it fancy for himself, and push out the tenants, but what he finds is they are proud, angry, funny, and most importantly, human. Of course, the tenants do not leave. This is where the real movie starts.

Movie still in which a clean-cut Elgar Enders, looking somewhat awkward but attempting to put on a social face, is caught in the act of introducing himself to a Black man and woman who flank him in the hallway
You don't see this every day.

Honestly, I didn’t hate Elgar. Is he clueless? Yes. Is he a tourist in the struggles of his tenants? Absolutely. But as the movie goes on, he does something that I have never seen a white character do in a story like this. He listens. He also sleeps with a Black tenant and knocks her up, but to his credit, he sticks around. This isn’t revolutionary, but it deserves some recognition. He has his human moments and that is what makes this movie feel real.

The beauty of this film is that it walks a tricky line, wanting to criticize Elgar and the entire rotten system that created him, but also to cheer his awakening. Sometimes it feels like watching a rich man go on a spiritual safari through Black suffering just to find himself, but we are quickly reminded that even white people get exiled when they go too far. He returns to his rich family and merely expresses empathy for his tenants and is met with cold disapproval and outright horror. No one is safe from being rejected. Not even family.

Close-up still of Elgar wearing an African printed top with a concerned and pensive look on his face with what appears to be a group of protesters carrying an American flag in the unfocused background
Dressed for a spiritual safari

It really hits home seeing the way Black and white America orbit each other in this movie. They are close enough to clash, yet never close enough to connect. As an immigrant, I recognize that tension. I have lived in those in-between spaces where I am too foreign for one side and invisible to the other. Lanie (played by the beautiful Marki Bey), the woman that Elgar falls in love with, is an attempt to bridge that gap. She is mixed race and light skinned enough to pass as white. Though their story is complicated and does not end in the usual romantic way, it feels honest. It doesn't pretend by forcing everyone to hold hands and sing at the end. It’s not entirely clear how this relationship moves forward, but I think that is also true of the relationship between Black and white America.

Picture of a Lanie smiling and in conversation, shot from over Elgar's shoulder
"You think I'm white don't you?"

The Landlord is not perfect. It tries to be funny and serious at the same time, and sometimes it stumbles. What is important is that it tries. It looks at race and class without pretending to have answers. It shows how people get hurt even when no one means to cause harm. It does not preach. It shows. It lets you feel. For me, that’s the best kind of art.

I walked away thinking this movie matters. Not because it solves anything, but because it refuses to look away. It points the camera at something that most people would rather turn a blind eye to or forget; that race and class in America are not just about violence and protests. They are about property, who owns it, who lives in it, and who gets thrown out. For all its flaws, The Landlord tries to have that conversation with humor and messiness. I think about my own future when I watch this movie. Maybe one day I will have a place here too. We all deserve to belong where we are.

4 out of 5 stars


Cotton Comes to Harlem: A Joke Without a Punchline

Movie poster for Cotton Comes to Harlem, featuring a stylized collage of drawing featuring scantily clad Black women and a pair of Black men with guns clustered around a golden automobile, with the silhouette of a bridge and cityscape in the background, with the caption 'Introducing Coffin Ed and Gravedigger, two detectives only a mother could love'

What was Cotton Comes to Harlem trying to do? All I got from it was confusion, noise, and a movie that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. It was supposed to be a comedy. Maybe even a smart one. But the longer I watched, the more I felt like I was waiting for a punchline that never came.

The film follows two Harlem detectives, Gravedigger Jones (played by, again, Godfrey Cambridge) and Coffin Ed Johnson (played by Raymond St. Jacques), chasing down a bale of cotton that is hiding nearly $90,000 stolen from poor Black families by a conman preacher. Money that is scammed from the community with promises of a return to Africa. That setup could have led to something sharp and powerful: Black liberation, exploitation, identity, the hypocrisy of a hustler that uses language to empty people’s pockets. There is room here for satire, for anger, even for real laughs, but instead, the movie can’t decide what it is. Some parts play like gritty police drama. Others feel like something out of a cartoon. I kept asking myself, “is this supposed to be funny or am I missing something?”

Movie still of three well black men dressed in suits having an engaged conversation on the street
What is the narrative here? Crime featuring Black vs. Black?

Because this film plays like a buddy cop drama that got awkwardly spliced together with a Saturday morning cartoon. One minute there’s a serious conversation about exploitation; the next there’s a man dangling from a crane with his underwear showing. The music tells you it is a comedy, but the performances say otherwise. It’s hard to laugh when you don’t know if you’re supposed to.

The two main characters could have carried the film if they had more to work with. Gravedigger and Coffin Ed are supposed to be cool, no-nonsense detectives, but we barely learn anything about them beyond their toughness. I had to check the credits just to get their names. There is no emotional core here—just scattered scenes of fighting, chasing, and incomplete jokes.

I found myself trying to locate punchlines. To understand what was being critiqued and how, and what really frustrates me is how often the movie hints at something deeper. A scam built on the backs of Black hope? That could have been a powerful blow, but every time the movie touches something real, it pulls back and throws in a silly gag…that scarcely draws a chuckle. It’s as if it’s afraid to say anything poignant.

Picture of a quartet of Black men standing at alert and looking to their left, all wearing outfits suggestive of military uniforms
I don't think even they know what's going on here?

As an immigrant, I’ve seen how people get taken advantage of by slick talkers promising a better life. I understand how easy it is to be conned by flowery language and a plausible grift. It’s not so easy to say no to someone being polite when your culture raises you to respect your elders and authority. I recognize the hunger for dignity and how easy it is for someone to sell you a dream that turns into dust. I wanted this film to get to that. To deliver on that point. For someone to feel that. But it sends no clear message and as a result, it makes no point.

Movie still of a middle-aged black woman wearing a hat with lace & flowers looking dubiously on at whatever is taking place
You can't pull a fast one on me.

I’m not against mixing comedy and social commentary, but Cotton Comes to Harlem doesn’t mix them. It smashes them together and hopes something comes of it. For me, it didn’t work.  A good idea buried under a movie that never figures out how to tell the story… or the joke, I walked away more confused than entertained.

1 out of 5 stars.


In the end, Watermelon Man, The Landlord, and Cotton Comes to Harlem create a narrative around the same wound, one that digs into how race, power, and belonging shape life in America. Each of these films carve their own path because we need more diverse voices. Watermelon Man kicks and screams and demands to be heard, The Landlord softly asks questions using a white face in Black surroundings, and Cotton Comes to Harlem cracks jokes and hopes that the message lands somewhere amidst the laughter. They don't all succeed, but they do share the same desire to expose America to the absurdity and cruelty of American racism. Whether the message is delivered by satire, sincerity, or stumble, each film shares with us the same message: this story ain't over, and even if it sometimes tries to make you laugh, it sure as hell ain't funny.



[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]


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[Feb. 2, 1968] All creatures great and small (Star Trek: "The Immunity Syndrome")

"Beyond our Experience"


by Amber Dubin

Only the best of science fiction challenges us to question the laws of physics and our reality. In this, "The Immunity Syndrome" does not disappoint. This episode takes a similar phenomenon as was seen in "The Doomsday Machine" and "Obsession" where a mind-numbingly dangerous sentient entity is found cutting a swath of destruction through space and the Enterprise is sent to find a way to stop it. This time, however, the nature of this space organism is so far beyond our experience that it has stunning implications for both the nature of humanity and for life itself.

We open on an already exhausted crew heading toward a well deserved break before they are yanked off course by a Priority 1 distress signal. As they are being informed that Starfleet has lost contact with an entire solar system and the Vulcan-crewed star ship that was sent to investigate, Spock nearly collapses onto his console. Teeth gritted in agony, he exclaims that the Intrepid and every member of its 400-strong Vulcan crew is dead.

We soon find out that Spock was right, that both the Intrepid and an entire solar system has been wiped out under mysterious circumstances. In sickbay, McCoy inquires as to how Spock could possibly have known the moment it happened and he replies with what is probably my favorite line in the entire show: "I've noticed that about your people, Doctor, you find it easier to understand the death of one than the death of a million. You speak about the objective hardness of the Vulcan heart, yet how little room there seems to be in yours."

A now more somber and grief-rattled Spock returns to the bridge and the crew resumes investigating the source of this massacre. They soon stumble on a starless patch of space that appears to be a hole in the viewscreen. Being unable to gain any knowledge from a probe launched towards it, Captain Kirk decides to take the ship closer to get a better look. With a sudden piercing noise, the ship finds itself fully enveloped in this absence of stars. Immediately half the crew collapses, their life forces suddenly drained. Scottie informs the bridge that the deflectors and power cells have suffered a similar fate. Eventually it is surmised that the Enterprise has been ensnared in a spider's web of some kind, a negative zone of energy created as a consequence (deliberate or otherwise) of a massive creature's movement through space. This creature is apparently structured like a single celled organism that consumes energy in order to reproduce and expand its influence across the universe, like a bacterial cell would as it infected a host body.

After a lot of scrambling and trial and error, the Captain and crew discover that the only way to find this creature's weakness is by sending a shuttle inside of it. This leaves Captain Kirk in the unenviable position of having to choose which of his two best friends, Spock or McCoy, will pilot the shuttle and likely never return. With a heavy heart, he chooses Spock, and even McCoy has a hard time making light of the situation the way he usually does, reluctantly watching as Spock makes his funeral march to the shuttlecraft.


Spock and McCoy: a no-win decision.

Of course the crew narrowly eke out a win, the organism is killed, and the trio is reunited in the end; yet it is the questions that arise from the existence of this creature that linger on past its demise: "Where did it come from?" "Is this the beginning of an invasion?" "Is the universe itself an ecosystem with perceivable edges?" "Did this creature come from beyond those edges?" "Is the universe itself alive when viewed with a large enough lens?"

On a smaller scale, we are given another compelling morsel of mind-taffy in the new knowledge that Vulcans feel the dying minds of their own kind. A fascinating implication is that a genocide would be impossible on Vulcan because Vulcans literally feel pain when large amounts of their kind are slaughtered. McCoy echoes the sentiment of many audience members that humans do not envy this ability: "Suffer the death of thy neighbor, eh Spock? You wouldn't wish that on us would you?"

Spock sagely replies, "It might have rendered your history a bit less bloody."

Yet here I must disagree with Spock. Spock claims this Vulcan ability to avoid massacres gives them a survivalist edge over humans, yet it is this lack of experience with societal trauma that left them vulnerable in this case. They could not conceive that the annihilation of the Intrepid was even possible, and thus they literally died in disbelief.

This episode has the cleanest script I've seen in the series so far, and it gave my brain something to chew on with a rather satisfying crunch…5 stars



by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

A Stoic’s Guide to Vulcanianism

“Damn your infernal Vulcan logic!” A sentiment expressed all too often by Dr. McCoy, but is it truly the logic that is so infuriating to the prickly old doctor? Spock’s virtual lack of emotion seems to be characterized as having stemmed from his dedication to logic, but we see logical decisions made by the captain even in his most emotional states. Even his hunches, acted on with no strong emotional component, are based on an assessment of the situation. He may not have a clear explanation at the ready, but those decisions are not made on a whim.

At the same time, we have seen Spock display genuine emotion. For example, in “Amok Time” when he exclaims, “Jim!” upon discovering that he is alive, and again at the very beginning of “The Immunity Syndrome”, whether it is grief, despair, or agony, when he is clearly suffering from the sudden death of 400 Vulcans. He would probably explain the phenomenon as pain, but I do not buy it.

Having been sent to sick bay, Spock is questioned by McCoy as to how he knew the Vulcans had died. As far as he knows, in order for Spock to know what someone or something is thinking, he had to have contact. Instead of answering the question in his usual way, Spock lashes back with what sounds like anger. As a result, it may be the most unclear he has ever been. When McCoy questions him further, he resorts to insults.

There are other occasions in the episode where Spock lets his feelings out, but this is not to nitpick about whether he has or displays them. The idea that emotion equals irrationality and a lack of emotion equals rationality is a dichotomy that has major issues even aside from the fact that it is not a true dichotomy. We know that Spock has emotions. Whether they come from his human side is not really important, but the idea that lacking emotion is somehow more logical is flawed. He is no more or less logical than anyone else on the ship. Rather, he has a clear understanding of what and why, and he carries out his duties with little excitement and characteristic coolness he calls "logic".


Lack of emotion does not equal logic.  Emotion does not mean lack of logic.

It would be unfair to expect anyone to recognize this philosophy of virtue and ethics, but what the show presents is not a lack of emotion, or "logic", but Stoicism. Spock’s resistance to desires and fears and living with the virtues of wisdom, temperance, justice, and courage are classic tenets of Stoicism.

Taking a look at his demeanor, we start to see how Stoicism plays a significant role in the way he approaches the world. Being the chief science officer on the Enterprise, Spock is a truth seeker. He is an observer that accepts what is presented to him in his exploration of the universe. There is no expectation of what the universe should or should not be. He has faced the fear of death on numerous occasions stepping in to save his friends and colleagues. Kirk relentlessly demands to be given answers. Spock responds with the only correct answer in that situation (“insufficient data”) rather than speculation. Spock carries out his duties on the shuttle craft despite a likely fascination and a desire to study this new discovery. We can imagine McCoy acting in self-interest, but it never even crosses Spock’s mind. He has no judgments about the organism that killed the 400 Vulcans. It would be understandable if he had a sudden desire to seek revenge, but instead, he continues to carry out his duties on the ship.

McCoy’s frustrations with Spock are blamed on his logic, but so often it is merely his discipline and self-control that irritates the good doctor. What McCoy understands is that Spock keeps his feelings inside. It is not that he does not have them. He just infrequently acts on them. They both care for each other, but Spock would rather sacrifice himself for the ship. Thankfully McCoy is not having any of it. So “shut up Spock! We’re rescuing you!”

Five Stars


Amoebic Anatomy 101


by Joe Reid

This week on Star Trek we got a bit of an elementary school biology review, as the creature of the week was a humongous protozoa.  What type of protozoa you ask?  Well, there are actually 20 types of protozoa and this was a giant space monster on a weekly sci-fi show.  Although, if I were to guess based on my general knowledge of actual science, this creature best resembled the amoebic variety of protozoa.  I think they even called it an amoeba at some point in the episode.  Let’s talk about how this giant twelve-thousand-mile-long amoeba compares to the amoeba that we learned about when we were children.


A real amoeba, at least, so Trek tells us.

In the interest of keeping this a reasonable comparison and not sounding ridiculous, we are going to completely ignore the following elements.  The size difference.  The ability to make pockets in space without starlight.  The powerful attractive force that draws starships to their doom, and vacuum of outer space, which no protozoa known to modern science could survive.

The amoebas that we might find in our local pond water are single-celled living organisms that have the following structures: a nucleus, containing 13 chromosomes; an outer membrane, to hold in the gelatinous cytoplasm.  In the cytoplasm there are various organelles.  Along with the nucleus, you have a contractile vacuole, which helps in motion and fluid exchange, along with multiple food vacuoles to digest food.  Mitochondria and other organelles also exist inside of amoeba.

The giant nemesis in “The Immunity Syndrome” had a nucleus, but this one had forty chromosomes.  That’s six fewer than what humans have and a fair bit more than our microscopic analog.  There was a cell membrane, but the Spock and Bones called the substance inside protoplasm.  This is technically not completely wrong.  Protoplasm refers to all living matter of a cell–including the cell membrane, cytoplasm, nucleus, and the organelles.  All that said, the crew called the substance protoplasm when they should have called it cytoplasm.  As, respectively, a doctor and a scientist, I expected better from Spock and McCoy.

Also, an amoeba that you look at under a microscope has a method of locomotion that involves creating pseudopodia by extending portions of its membrane to move itself about.  Our space monster didn’t demonstrate this type of motion and it wasn’t mentioned in the episode, so I cannot count that against the accuracy of details.  Outside of the nucleus, membrane, chromosomes and “protoplasm”, no other parts of the amoeba in the episode are called out by name.  Did they exist?  Perhaps.  The crew was focused on finding the most efficient way of killing the dangerous monster before it caused any more harm and before it reproduced.  Which in tiny amoeba can be done in two ways.  A process called cellular fission, where the nucleus splits in two before the amoeba breaks off the rest of its parts and the membrane pinches off creating two daughter cells.  Also, sporulation… but I digress. 

Outside of the cytoplasm/protoplasm substitution, the number of chromosomes, and the space monster powers, the writers of this episode gave a passable representation of the anatomy of an amoeba.  Is it enough to pass your Biology 101 quiz in school the next day?  Heavens no!  You need to hit those books, kiddo!  This was good enough to not pull you out to the moment when watching what overall was a good episode of Trek with great acting, a decent plot, and dramatic tension.  I liked it!  I can even forgive the crew’s strange decision to fly right into a dark blob in space that had already killed another ship.

Four stars



The next episode of Trek is TONIGHT! You won't want to miss it:

Here's the invitation!



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


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)!



[January 12, 1968] Shatner Trek: Arena of Triskelion (Star Trek: "The Gamesters of Triskelion")


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

Nichelle Nichols is a delight so it’s always exciting to see Uhura on the bridge in the opening scene, and after Walter Koenig’s performance in the last episode, I was really looking forward to more Chekov. When they were both called to be part of the landing crew at Gamma II, my hopes were high that this might be a repeat performance of “I, Mudd”. Unfortunately, “The Gamesters of Triskelion” featured William Shatner, and little else.

Immediately after stepping on the transporter platform, Kirk and the party were abruptly teleported away by an unknown force. They were met by hostiles on a planet that was clearly not Gamma II. While Uhura and Chekov were quickly captured, Kirk went on to not just best his opponent, but continue to fight until he was blindsided by another hostile. Upon which, they were greeted by, “Galt, master thrall of the planet Triskelion” who is tasked with training those that have been abducted by The Providers.


"All I want for Christmas is a pair of arms."

Meanwhile, on the Enterprise, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty are doing everything they can to figure out what happened to their captain and crewmates. In their typical way, Spock and McCoy share a moment of banter that adds some levity to the situation as their search continues. The interactions on the Enterprise continue to escalate as McCoy and Scotty disagree with Spock following a trail leading them nearly a dozen light years away from Gamma II. It’s not uncommon for McCoy to be at odds with Spock, but Scotty usually has a good head on his shoulders when it comes to command. This was not one of those times. As commanding officer, and apparently the only person currently with any sense, Spock continues to follow the trail that, you’ve already guessed, eventually leads to Triskelion.


"Have you looked under your bed, Spock?  How about on Mars?  We should check all the angles before following your hunch.  Who do you think you are?  The acting-captain?"

On Triskelion, Kirk, Uhura, and Chekov attempt to escape but quickly discover that the collars they wear are not fashionable accessories, but a means to correct and control them. A few questionable interactions later we find Kirk seducing his Barbarella-esque drill thrall, imposing his sense of western morality, and then exercising his physical prowess yet again. (Let’s be honest, there are a few questionable interactions during this scene as well.)

“What is so questionable,” you might ask? It wasn’t enough that one of the thralls enters Uhura’s chambers and we are left to wonder if something horribly indecent is happening over an entire commercial break, but a bound black man is brought out to be an exercise dummy during their training. That is until Kirk comes to the rescue and redirects the torture onto himself and is resurrected… sorry, wrong story… proceeds to defeat his torturer, a thrall that is quite literally twice his size, by strangling him from behind. I may not be a martial artist (well, okay, I am) but it doesn’t seem like Kirk took much advantage of the brute’s weak left eye, as he was advised to do. Obviously, dispatching armed opponents twice his size is just a day in the life of David. I’m sorry, I keep getting my stories mixed up. Must be all the biblical references Spock keeps making (apparently Vulcans don't have their own bible.)


"You do realize how tacky this is, right?"

The Providers are so impressed that they have a bidding war over who gets to own the “newcomers” and at this point, it shouldn’t be lost on anyone that the Providers are slave masters betting on gladiators.

If that wasn’t enough William Shatner for you, he’s featured shirtless and sporting a training harness for the rest of the episode as he charms his battle-hardened drill thrall, attempts to escape, and outsmarts The Providers by agreeing to battle three thralls to free himself, his crew, and the remaining thralls. He wins, of course. Was there any doubt?


"How about a real wager? If I win, I get to dress like this all the time."

Ultimately, the Enterprise reaching Triskelion did nothing but put the rest of the crew in danger, Uhura’s and Chekov’s involvement had little significance to the plot, and Kirk is our savior against an omnipotent being once again.

This is one of the hopefully rare occasions where the writing, directing, and editing failed to deliver. Appropriate with the number of characters featured in this episode, I rate it one star.


The B Team


by Gideon Marcus

Last year, Green Beret Gary Sadler warbled eloquent over the virtues of "Twelve Men, invincible… the A Team".  The latest episode of Trek was very definitely the product of The B Team.

We always scan the credits eagerly at the beginning of each episode.  Many is the time we've been treated with the bylines of some of our favorite science fiction authors.  Even when one turns in a substandard script ("paging Bob Bloch, Mr. Bob Bloch…"), there's still the thrill of being able to say, "I know that guy!"  And if a writer be unknown, the director is often one of a stable of familiar names: Marc Daniels, Joseph Pevney, Ralph Senensky.

This time, we got a script by a "Margaret Armen" and a director named "Gene Nelson".  While it's always nice to see the creative wealth spread around, this time the new talent let us down.

For one thing, we've now gotten to the point where writers are portraying caricatures of our favorite characters rather than developing them.  In this episode, McCoy and Scotty spend endless hours bickering with acting-Captain Spock.  While it's true that McCoy loves to take an adversarial position with respect to the Vulcan, Scotty does not (recall that he was the only one to have no truck with the insubordinate nonsense of "The Galileo Seven".) Uhura and Chekov might as well not even exist, despite a tantalizing promise of activity. 


Nichols and Koenig are stunned to learn they won't have any more lines this episode.

Instead, we get Kirk nobly educating the savages and their masters about the virtues of democracy and freedom.  Even more, we are treated to every kink and fetish the writer has ever wanted expressed on celluloid.  Lurid harnesses from space-age materials, whips, pain collars, and more Shatnerian tongue than we've seen in all the prior episodes combined.

Speaking of Shatner, Gene Nelson's sin is not overdirection but lack of it.  Kirk's actor made it clear this summer that he was going to throw in more stylized, personal traits into the captain; Nelson let go of the leash, letting Shatner run wild.  The smarmy chuckle, the goggle-eyed outstretched arm and cry (which ends two of the acts), the hunched shoulder and wide-armed delivery, the…punctuated…delivery-of-lines.

Indeed, one wonders if Shatner had anything to do with the script revision process, because if he has any tendency toward line counting, he sure made certain he got 80% of the lines spoken this time around.  I like Trek best when it's an ensemble show.  This was the Kirk show.

Add to that the entirely recycled score, the recycled costumes, and the recycled sets (we don't even get to see the trinary sun), the recycled plots ("Arena", "Metamorphosis", "Menagerie") and Gamesters ends up a very tired affair.

1.5 stars (I liked the bit between Tamoun and Chekov, and also the fact that Uhura was able to fend off her would-be-rapist all by herself).


Do One Thing and Do it Well


by Joe Reid

I imagine some stories are a lot like people.  At some point in their lives men and women must decide who they are going to be.  They come to realize that the choice is theirs.  If that epiphany doesn’t come to them, they hopefully can accept who they do become, whether by intent or circumstance. 

This episode of Star Trek was striving to be something; sadly, it didn’t know what.  Did it intend to be a reminder of the wickedness of American chattel slavery, using the crew as the enslaved?  Was it trying to be a tale of manipulation of a naive innocent?  Perhaps it was an attempted telling of a mutiny on the Enterprise or a gladiator epic on an alien world or an echo of Forbidden Planet?

Knowing my history and seeing free people abducted from their homes, being restrained, and sold as property to me harkens back to the horrific institution of American slavery.  If that wasn’t clear enough, two other scenes in the episode drove it home for me.  In the first scene, Lars, one of the overseer thralls, attempts to force himself onto Uhura, who being “property” should have no right to refuse his advance.  Thankfully, our gal proved she was no helpless damsel.  The second scene involved an “alien”, looking unmistakably like a black man, about to be punished for disobedience by another overseer.  Uhura again refused to participate in that and was about to be punished in the man’s place, until Kirk stepped in to take her place.  These scenes might mean nothing to most people, but to me they clearly reflect our dark national history.  They blatantly demonstrated the subject in a way that grade schoolers could understand.  Then it suddenly chose to be something else entirely.  It became “Svengali”.

Beautiful, young, and inexperienced.  A woman is introduced to emotions and feelings she had never felt before by a seductive man.  Being violently manipulated by him, so that he could gain access to the hidden players behind the curtain…


"How can you resist me?  We're showing virtually the same amount of skin!"

Then it became “Ben Hur”.

“Captain” and his friends are forced to fight for their lives as gladiators for the amusement of powerful rulers, who see them as toys for their entertainment.  Can he beat the odds and survive the death games of Triskelion…

Then it became the comic strip “Barbarella”.

A silver-bikini clad minx fights and loves while trying to avoid the wrath of the unfeeling Providers… I’ll stop here. 

I found the thematic shifts in the episode jarring.  Especially since it attempted the last three things simultaneously, after ceasing to be a slavery epic.  I neglected to mention the poor man’s rendition of “The Bounty” back on the Enterprise.  An almost-mutiny with comical quips between emotional McCoy and logical Spock which fell flat for me.

This entry, with Five and Dime versions of Ming the Merciless and Deeja Thoris didn’t satisfy.  Had this episode tried to be one thing well, instead of many things poorly, it could have been better.  Sadly, the excellent characterizations of Uhura and Spock, were forgotten as the thematic layering took hold. 

Two stars


Neither Fish nor Fowl


by Janice L. Newman

A couple of weeks ago Robert Bloch attempted to mix supernatural horror with Star Trek’s style of science fiction, with uneven results. “The Gamesters of Triskelion” attempted a fusion of a different genre with science fiction: sword and sorcery, first born in the pulps and lately enjoying a revival. In the right hands, like those of Leigh Brackett, such a mix can be compelling and interesting.

Unfortunately, the author of the “Gamesters of Triskelion” script was not the right hands.


Is "Margaret Armen" actually a pen name for Jon Norman?

Simply throwing various elements from popular sword and sorcery stories into a blender does not make what comes out at the end a classic, especially when the elements chosen are: slavery, gladiatorial-style games, hand-to-hand combat with primitive weapons, grotesque yet humanoid monsters, physical punishments via whips, ‘magical’ punishments via devices, an evil ‘wizard’, and a naive maiden warrior who must be ‘taught’ what ‘love’ is.

Nor does taking various elements from Star Trek and throwing them into a blender make a good Star Trek episode. McCoy being intransigent with Spock, Kirk seducing a beautiful woman to secure his escape, Kirk getting his shirt ripped off, Kirk fighting a death match to the exciting strains of the “Amok Time” score…these have all been used to more or less good effect in previous episodes. Sadly, here they felt nonsensical, annoying, and contrived – to the point that the episode felt more like a piece an amateur might write for a fanzine than a polished script for a nationally-broadcast TV show.

In the end the result is neither a good sword and sorcery story nor a good Star Trek story.

One star.



Next episode might be better – don't miss Thoroughly Modern Billy (Shatner)!

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



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


by Gideon Marcus

The place: Omicron Ceti 3.

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

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

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

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


Love in the green grass.

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

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


A risky and painful maneuver.

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

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

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


To thine own self be true


by Abigail Beaman

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

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


Pull up a chair.

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


Spock, just hanging around.

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


Love hurts.

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


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

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


Not happy, but at least, perhaps, satisfied.

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


Debating Paradise in a Vacuum


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

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


Sandoval's paradise.

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


Kirk's paradise.

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

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

Five stars


The Best of the Best


by Janice L. Newman

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

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

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

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

Five stars.


Too Many Shirts


by Erica Frank

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


Happy Sulu

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


This Side of Potential


by Robin Rose Graves

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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



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

Here's the invitation–beware the Blob!



[February 8, 1967] Hung Jury (Star Trek: "Court Martial")

Better Than Perry Mason


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

In Court Martial, we see Star Trek trying on a new genre: courtroom drama. Like a good Perry Mason episode, we have twists, turns, dramatic monologues on the subject of rights, stodgy courtroom pedantry, and a wicked villain who gets his comeuppance before the hour is up.

But it being Star Trek, it added some important layers to the genre. Our Perry Mason – a stolid Luddite named Samuel T. Cogley (Elisha Cook Jr.) – is less dapper and more dogged in his defense of Captain Kirk. Unlike any Perry Mason I can remember, the prosecutor is a woman (Joan Marshall as Areel Shaw), and the four judge panel is played by actors who can trace their family trees to nearly every continent on Earth, including Commodore Stone (played by the excellent Percy Rodriguez), Starship Captain Chandra (Reginald Lal Singh), Starship Captain Krasnovsky (Bart Conrad), and Space Command Representative Lindstrom (William Meader).


A nice cross-section of ethnicity, if not gender

Percy Rodriguez was born in Montreal and is of Afro-Portuguese descent (that gets us three continents right there). Reginald Lal Singh was born to Indian parents in what was then the mainland of the British West Indies and is, as of May 26, 1966 the independent state of Guyana (which gets us two more continents, plus a second count in Europe’s column for the British passport). Then add in the unnamed Ensign who appeared to be of East Asian descent, and we don’t even need to count real-life U.S. Army Colonel Bart Conrad, who as it happens, also worked in several episodes of Perry Mason.

I don’t list these actor’s family histories to distract from their professional credits, but to note that Star Trek manages to reflect our world in ways that many theoretically more realistic shows do not. Afterall, we are a country which first elected Dalip Singh Saund to the U.S. Congress in 1955, and seven years later, appointed Thurgood Marshall to the Second Circuit Federal Court of Appeals, the brave lawyer who argued Brown v. Board of Education before the still all white, all male U.S. Supreme Court. (Perhaps 1967 will be the year at least one of those descriptors changes).


The Supreme Court, in 1962

Today, there are dozens of Black judges serving on the federal, state, and municipal bench – including Vince Townsend, a municipal judge in Los Angeles County who played a judge in the 1963 Perry Mason episode “The Case of the Skeleton's Closet” (and, because the world is tiny, I have heard that Judge Vince Townsend used to be roommates with Judge Thurgood Marshall). So why do we need to look hundreds of years into the future to see judges and captains and prosecutors who reflect our real world?


Perry Mason, in the courtroom

As interesting as the casting was for this episode, the plot itself also held my attention. First, we think we’re about to follow a routine investigation into the tragic death of a crewman. Then his daughter appears, wild with grief and accusatory in speech. Things begin to shift for Captain Kirk, his colleagues turning their shoulders at him, an old flame warning him of impending disgrace, and a trial which forces his nearest and dearest officers to testify fairly damningly against him.

But then in hops our very own Perry Mason, with clever words about rights and the flaws of technology. Cogley convinces the judges to return to the Enterprise where my very favorite moment of the episode happens: a luscious soundscape of heartbeats that is slowly narrowed down to a single, unknown body, stowed away belowdecks.

Well, second favorite; as I am sure Erica will concur, watching Captain Kirk roll around on the floor and tear his shirt on the carpet isn’t a bad use of screen time either (another common Star Trek cliché that Perry Mason never included).


Two absolutely convincing stunt doubles fighting in Engineering

The episode lost most of its tension at this point, as we waited for an increasingly barechested Captain Kirk to corral the previously-thought-dead Lieutenant Commander Finney and stop him from crashing the Enterprise into the planet’s surface.

The little twist at the end, where we discover Cogley has now agreed to represent Lieutenant Commander Finney, was a nice touch.

This episode gave meaty, well-developed roles to Areel Shaw and Percy Rodriguez, giving them space to explore courtroom theatrics and protocols in roles many drama’s casting directors would have given only to white men. Though parts of this episode flagged, that delightful choice carried it through for me.

Rating: 4 Stars.


Wrong Way Street


by Abigail Beaman

While I know a majority of my peers rated this episode highly, I was let down by the ending of the episode. I feel that Trek has worked best when it left me with some warning or moral, and to have it just devolve to fisticuffs and Kirk half naked at the end just seemed to disappoint. And believe me, I like when the cast gets half naked.

Perhaps I was just expecting a different story. "Court Martial" opens up with what we believe will be a man versus machine parable, with Kirk versus the computer of the Enterprise. Instead we end up with man versus man: Kirk versus Finney. I feel like if Marc Daniels had followed through with the theme "don’t trust machines on everything", I would have happily rated this episode above a four.


Computers–who needs 'em?

My biggest issue is with Finney being alive. It raises many unanswered questions. What was Finney’s plan after Kirk got indicted? How did Finney manage to change the computer without being spotted? How did Finney even get out of the pod before it was sent off? How did messing with the data stored in the computer also mess up Spock’s chess programming?

In the end, I was just disappointed and annoyed. While the story started off strong, it ended up crashing in the climax, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. That’s why I rate it 2.5 stars.


Our Perception: what can and can’t we trust?


by Andrea Castaneda

I agree with my colleague, Abby, though perhaps the premise saves this episode a little more for me. “Court Martial” was, to me, one of the more intriguing episodes in the show of the series. We’re presented with high emotional stakes, see a more vulnerable side to Captain Kirk, and take a deeper look into how StarFleet operates. But what I liked most about this episode was how it analyzes man’s perception in contrast to the cold hard evidence of the machine.

The courtroom scene reminded me a lot of Sidney Lumet’s “Twelve Angry Men”. In that film, eleven men of a jury believe a man guilty of murder, but one juror still wants to discuss how there can be doubt. The film goes on to dissect how one’s perception can be warped by emotion, physical limitations, personal beliefs, etc. In the end, they conclude the provided evidence is insufficient, and the defendant is spared from the electric chair.


Twelve Angry Men, perhaps the seminal courtroom drama of the last decade.

This episode shared similar themes. Kirk starts out unwavering in his confidence. But when presented with seemingly damning evidence, he’s shaken. With a defeated tone, he says to himself “but that’s not the way it happened.”

But unlike “Twelve Angry Men”, Spock subverts the idea that man’s memory is inherently flawed. When the prosecution asks him how he could know Kirk did the right thing if he didn’t see him, he states that one doesn’t need to observe him at all times to know he did. Just as one doesn’t need to see a dropped hammer fall to know it has in fact fallen. And while he does concede that this is– at the end of the day– his opinion, his confidence in Kirk is what prompts him to prove the computer is wrong. And of course, he tests the system via chess.

Where the episode missed an opportunity, however, was how they chose to end it. I was hoping that once Spock proved the computer was faulty, it would lead the court to reevaluate the evidence and/or rule that the man’s death was due to a programming glitch. But instead, it’s revealed that the dead man was alive the whole time, and that this was all part of a half-baked revenge plot. He and Kirk wrestle while the Enterprise is set to crash, but Kirk once again saves the day. And with that, what started out as a sober courtroom drama winds up as a James Bond movie.

Ridiculous as that ending was, I still thoroughly enjoyed the mental analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of one’s perception. It gives me as a viewer something to think about once the episode ends. Unfortunately, the conclusion of events– including Kirk’s unprofessional kiss with the prosecution lawyer– compels me to declare “Court Martial” a mistrial.

Three stars.


Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics


by Lorelei Marcus

"Court Martial" is the second trial-centered episode we've seen on Star Trek, though unlike "The Menagerie" (and many other episodes) there are no God-like aliens or other fantastical features. Which is why "Court Martial" is one of my favorite episodes: because of its focus on technology and its ability to straddle the line between implausibility and familiarity.

The source of conflict in this episode is the malfunction of the ship's "computer". The show portrays this computer as a piece of machinery so complex it can recognize verbal commands, act as an archive of all human knowledge, and even play chess! Yet it's so small that it can fit into a panel console [I think those are just the teletype terminals. Cogley's law computer seems self-contained, though. (Ed.)] This is far more advanced than anything we have today, or anything that could conceivably be developed in the next 50 years.


"Computers. I know all about them."

However, the audience is not totally disconnected from this incomprehensible device because the computer represents more than itself. When Kirk first meets his defense lawyer, he is startled by the lawyer's reliance on paper books over computer banks. In the Star Trek future, physical books are an antiquated and nearly extinct form of information storage. While this is a rather extreme (and grim) prediction, the situation does reflect a trend toward a reliance on technology over physical media happening in our society today.

Rather than read the paper or a novel, we increasingly watch the news or a Western on television. We've long since switched computation work at NASA from "computers" (actual human beings doing calculations) to IBM's metal monsters. It isn't a stretch to see a future where the development of computers alters the very way society operates and exists, eschewing personal bonds of trust and the evidence of the human eye. Someday, we may even leave justice to the computers themselves – after all, they cannot lie, can they?

Except, of course, they can. Because people can, and computers are still, even in the far future, servants of people. That, I think, was the point of the episode, and a good one.

Four stars.


The measure of a man


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It doesn’t always feel good to do the right thing, but there’s something to be said about having complete confidence in your integrity when it’s under scrutiny. Kirk walks confidently into most situations as if he always has the right answers. Ben Finney is not Jim Kirk. Without even getting to know him that well, it’s still abundantly clear that the infraction that he received wasn’t the real reason he wasn’t a senior officer.

As the records officer, Finney seemed to be doing just fine. After all, he was an officer aboard the Starship Enterprise. It’s not clear if there are many other starships, but as far as we know, the Enterprise is a very important one. [Last episode, it was revealed "there are only twelve like it in the fleet" (ed.)] If Spock’s and McCoy’s commendations aren't enough to tell us how much prestige is represented in the ship's crew, Kirk’s commendations practically flaunt it. I assume that Finney’s service record must be relatively strong to serve on such a ship, but his actions in “Court Martial” tell us everything we need to know about why he’s not captain of his own starship.


Captain material?

Finney’s ability to sabotage the ship shows us that he’s clearly competent, but his plan lacked any forethought; a trait that is expected in leadership. What did he think was going to happen once Kirk was court martialed? Life couldn’t go back to normal for Benjamin Finney. He was on record as being jettisoned and presumed to be dead. It’s not as if he could return to being Enterprise’s records officer. At the very least, he’d have to escape the Enterprise and go into Richard Kimble-style exile. He didn't even manage to do that!

In short, he didn’t have the fortitude to move on from a decade-old perceived personal slight, instead developing a grudge. He didn’t have the integrity to own his mistakes, and so he blamed Kirk. He failed to weigh the possible consequences of his actions, either in the past or of his current half-baked scheme. But I don't condemn Finney for this. For all of his flaws, Finney is a perfectly understandable character, a human character. I get him, even if I don't grok him, and his relationship with Kirk was poignant and interesting.

In the end, no one is perfect: not the records officer nor the computer he works on.

4 Stars


The Little Black Box


by Janice L. Newman

As a fan of mysteries, I really enjoyed Court Martial. The episode did a good job of building tension throughout, even making the audience second-guess ourselves. One thing that I thought was an interesting touch was the recordings made of the events on the bridge and played back later for the purposes of the trial. We saw something similar in "The Menagerie", but in that case the playback was facilitated by the aliens. In Court Martial the implication is that the recordings are done automatically, presumably for circumstances like those in the episode.

This year (1967) regulations are going into effect that state that all planes must have a ‘black box’ installed—that is, a flight recorder that can help explain the cause of a crash after the fact. Having cameras on the bridge that record everything is a natural extrapolation of this new technology and makes perfect sense. And when the audience ‘sees’ Captain Kirk push the wrong button at the wrong time, even many of us are fooled for a moment, wondering, ‘Maybe he just made a mistake?’


A Soviet flight recorder – a "red box"?

It’s not a perfect episode. The denouement, where Captain Kirk is permitted to face the man who has a personal vendetta against him and engage in fisticuffs, didn’t make much sense. Nor did Finney’s plan: did he plan to hide out for the rest of his life? Was he going to get Harry Mudd to make him a false identity? What about his daughter?

Despite these caveats, I liked the mystery and the story overall, and particularly found the dramatic scene where each person’s heartbeat was screened out to be nail-bitingly effective. It was also refreshing not to be dealing with godlike aliens. I give this episode four stars.


The Return of Shirtless Kirk


by Erica Frank

Other viewers have covered the plot, the characters, and the nuances of the legal system. I'm going to focus on something more fun: The clothing, and occasional lack thereof.

We never meet the people who design Starfleet's uniforms, but they must be very influential. There's so much variety! You'd think people living on a spaceship would have limited resources, but no: everyone has uniforms in several colors and styles.

A trial is a formal event, which calls for formal apparel. Naturally, Starfleet's fashion designers rise to the occasion. First, we get Kirk in his side-wrap shirt, while he meets with Commodore Stone to discuss the accusations against him. This seems to be more formal than the normal pullover uniform.


Kirk's wraparound green uniform


The Commodore's outfit is similar to the Enterprise crew's standard ones, but his insignia is a sparkling flower brooch. Very nice.

Kirk changes back to his gold pullover to meet with an old friend; she's in a wild pink-and-green paisley gown. Later, in the courtroom, she wears a red minidress, very similar to Uhura's outfit, only with another flower brooch. I might have mistaken it for mere jewelry if I hadn't seen the same on the Commodore earlier.


This is what lawyers in Starfleet wear when they're not in court.

Dress uniforms—which is what I assume the officers are wearing in court—are satin, with gold trim, and the insignia is an array of triangular gemstones. They seem to open down the front; I approve of Starfleet's apparent policy that the more formal the outfit, the easier it should be to remove. (I'm glad someone in Starfleet is focused on practical issues.) As one would expect, the Commodore has more sparkles than a mere captain, even considering Kirk's impressive record.


Which of Kirk's triangles is the Grankite Order of Tactics? Is the thing on the side the Prantares Ribbon of Commendation? (Do enlisted personnel just have one or two little triangles?)


He can fight a Gorn on a planet full of gemstone rocks and not lose a thread, but when he's up against anyone he knew at the Academy, he loses clothing. He must have been terrible at strip poker.

This episode raised some questions, like: Why must Spock win at chess to prove that computer records can be altered? But I am willing to look past quite a few loopholes to see Kirk half-undressed and on his knees.

I'm not quite as shallow as that sounds. I'm just aware that we viewers often put more thought into the worlds and societies than TV writers have time to develop. I watch this show to have fun; I enjoy the science fiction elements as best I can, but when they're a bit weak, I am happy to be distracted by petty pleasures.

Three and a half stars. I know too much about the law to give it four.



Week before last, it was I Dream of Jeannie.  Now, it looks like the Enterprise crew will be on Wild, Wild West!  Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific).

Here's the invitation!



[January 26, 1967] Cold-blooded murder (Star Trek: "Arena")

Before we dive in, here's a couple of photos we just got back from the Fotomat, taken right before we watched the episode!


Captain Kirk and the Myth of Empty Land


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

This week’s episode opens with Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy happily discussing the promise of a lush dinner for the crew of the Enterprise on the Cestus 3 colony, “out of the edge of nowhere,” after they were invited to a sumptuous visit by the local human Commodore.

When the team beams down they find destruction, death, scorched earth, and a lone and bloodied survivor. The crew takes fire from unseen enemies who Mr. Spock determines are sophisticated, cold-blooded, humanoid creatures.

Captain Kirk brings the survivor aboard the Enterprise before ordering the delightfully competent Lieutenant Sulu to follow the “alien” ship they believe is responsible for the massacre. Then follows a chase, like we saw in The Balance of Terror, during which the survivor explains to Captain Kirk that the the colony was suddenly attacked several days before, unable to defend itself.

Again and again, he asks Captain Kirk, voice rising in panic and distress: “Why did they do it? Why?”

Kirk decides the unnamed, unidentified enemy’s motivation was “invasion” and convinces Spock that the only option they have is to destroy the “alien” ship.

Eventually, a godlike species ("The Metron", yet another in a long series on this show) intervenes in the hunt, identifying the “alien” enemy ship as the "Gorn" and forcing Captain Kirk into a mano a mano fight with the alien captain on a planet where they must make their weapons off the land. Captain Kirk finds heaps of diamonds, sulfur, potassium nitrate, coal, and sturdy wood. As he freely takes of them to build a hand cannon to kill the Gorn captain, the formerly voiceless alien speaks. He explains to Captain Kirk that his ship attacked Cestus 3 because:

Gorn Captain: “You were intruding! You established an outpost in our space!”
Captain Kirk: “You butchered helpless humans –”
Gorn Captain: “We destroyed invaders!”

Observing this exchange through the magic of Metron, Spock and McCoy realize perhaps “[w]e were in the wrong” and “[t]he Gorn simply might have been trying to protect themselves.”

The makeshift gun works. Crouching over the Gorn with the alien's own chipped obsidian blade, Kirk decides to spare his life, thus surprising and delighting this week’s all powerful watcher species. Back on his ship, Captain Kirk feels proud of himself for declining to kill the Gorn captain, ending the episode with a warm smile.

The plot of "Arena" hinges on the myth of empty land, the 19th and 20th century colonialist theory that whole sections of our human world were uninhabited before Europeans arrived. Many of us descended from Europeans learned this myth in our homes and schools. Many people who lived in those lands since time immemorial learned of this myth at the muzzle of European guns.

To give a specific example, let’s consider a childhood book of my mother’s: American First: One Hundred Stories from Our Own History by Lawton B. Evans (1920). The first chapter (“Leif, The Lucky”) tells the story of Leif Erickson arriving and finding a land full of bounty, the kind of place a sensualist like Dr McCoy would enjoy: it is full of grapes and food and sturdy wood. It continues to tell the story of his brother, Thorwald, who arrives expecting a lush and welcoming land but instead, “Indians attacked his party one night, and killed Thorwald with a poisoned arrow.”

I can almost imagine Thorwald asking his crew: “Why did they do it? Why?”

Because, as the Gorn captain said, Leif and his Norsemen were the invaders. The land they came to was not empty, just as Cestus 3 was not empty. And just as Captain Kirk explained to (if he did not quite convince) his first officer, sometimes people protect themselves by cutting invaders off at the pass; in both this week’s episode and America First's first chapter, that tactic worked. At least for a time.

The stories in America First continue, from “Daniel Boone” and his handmade weapons to “Dewey At Manila Bay” and his hoards of coal. They share elements of this week’s episode: an initial erasure of indigenous people; coveting of resources; exploitation of those resources; horror at violence done to invaders (while remaining silent on violence done to those invaded); and finally, a pat ending that makes the reader feel good about his and her ancestors’ role in the story.

I read and watch science fiction to be given more than patness and comfort. I want us not only to reach for the stars, but reach into our own hearts, to give us tools to understand our complex histories, and sit with the realities of the violence that underpins many of our histories. I want to see our heroes do more than fight their way out of problems.

I am glad the episode takes a stab at addressing the "empty land" myth, and at the same time disappointed that its hero does not. In the end, Captain Kirk seems to have some realization of the Gorn captain’s perspective, but the episode ended before we saw any true change of heart. I want to see real attempts at understanding the “alien” perspective for longer than the time it takes to put down a knife.

Three stars.


A Weak Echo


by Erica Frank

This episode was obviously inspired by Frederick Brown’s 1944 story, “Arena.” In both stories, aliens have attacked human settlements and space battles follow. In both, a near-omnipotent being interferes, reducing the conflicts to a single contest: One representative of each, placed on a barren world, instructed to fight. The godlike entity will then remove the loser’s contingent.

The two stories have some crucial differences, however.

Most importantly: In the original, the human is naked. (The alien probably is, but it looks like a giant red beach ball.) In the Star Trek episode, Kirk is not only not naked, his shirt doesn’t even get torn. (Despite fighting an alien with fangs and claws! Did the budget department object to constantly replacing his uniforms?)

In the original, the stakes were much larger: The nameless cosmic entity will eliminate the loser’s entire species; in Trek, “the Metron” only says he will destroy the loser’s ship. (He seems annoyed that they’ve brought their petty squabble to his region of space.) Brown’s “Arena” mentioned prior battles, skirmishes leading toward a full-scale war. In Trek, this is the first time they’ve met, which makes Kirk’s instant hostility seem arbitrary and contrived.

Just last week, Kirk insisted they were peaceful explorers, not warriors. Now he’s jumped to “alien invaders seeking conquest—kill them all” without considering any other options. He chases the alien ship, ignoring Spock’s requests for diplomacy, pushing the Enterprise nearly to breaking… until the Metron stops both ships and places both captains in their arena.

Brown’s human protagonist—Carson—and his alien are separated by an invisible force field, unable to attack each other directly. Their battle involves wits and endurance, not brute strength. Kirk throws rocks.

Unlike Kirk, Carson attempts to negotiate peace with his enemy; it “replies” with a mental wave of hatred and bloodlust. Unlike the Gorn, there will be no diplomatic relations in the future. Instead, Carson must find a way to kill his enemy—with the entire human race as the stakes of the battle.

I won’t ruin the story for you, but the result is predictable. The question is not “who wins,” but “how?” In this, it is again much like the Star Trek episode: We do not wonder whether Kirk (and his ship) will be destroyed, but how they will prevail.

The original is much more satisfying than the Trek episode. Carson’s explorations and growing understanding of his situation make sense; Kirk has more resources but ignores technological options (including fire) until his rocks fail to kill.

However, this episode of Trek was not without points of interest: the Gorn was an intriguing alien, and the Metrons use their immense powers to enforce peace in their area; they don’t treat “less advanced” species like toys for their amusement. I hope to see both of them again.

Three stars, even though Kirk remained fully clothed throughout.


Will the real civilization please stand up.


by Andrea Castaneda

This episode exemplifies what happens when a good idea isn’t executed well. I appreciated how this "Arena" explored the idea of barbarism vs civilization. But the way the storyline unfolded left me with some conflicting messages.

Throughout the episode, we’re presented with three different tiers of civilized society: the allegedly barbaric Gorns, the more rational Humans, and highly advanced Metrons.

When the Gorns are introduced, they're framed as violent aliens who attacked Cestus III unprovoked and showed no mercy. Then we have the humans of the Starship Enterprise, who we can identify as the more rational species. But as Captain Kirk's desire for vengeance shows, we can be prone to our own bloodthirsty tendencies. Then we have the Metrons, a species so advanced, they command the laws of physics at will. And while they claim to be the epitome of what a truly civilized world looks like, they still deemed a trial by combat the best course of action rather than, say, a civil trial (even Trelane offered a trial!) But then again, had they chosen that option, we'd have been robbed the spectacle of Bill Shatner fighting a man in a rubber lizard suit.

I was particularly struck when, after much rock throwing, a brief chemistry lesson, and lots of underwhelming stunt choreography, Kirk finally defeats his opponent. The impressed Metron suddenly shows up (dressed as if a cherub from a renaissance painting appeared on the cover of Vogue) to commend Kirk on his display of mercy, yet in the same breath offers to destroy the Gorns anyway!

At this point, I wondered whether the Metrons were really as advanced as they claimed. After all, by declaring the crews of both ships guilty by association, they could have potentially killed many innocent lives. At least with Captain Kirk, who had much more emotional investment in the outcome, he realized when to hold back.

I suppose the moral this episode left me with is that no society, no matter how advanced, is immune to the perils of barbarism.

Three stars.


Fight or Flight


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

I have to say that I’m really enjoying Star Trek so far. “Arena” isn’t the best episode for reasons that others have already expressed, but the last few episodes of Star Trek have left me with questions of what the Enterprise’s goals are in seeking out new life and civilizations.

We’ve seen that Kirk takes exploration seriously in “The Galileo Seven”. He stops to explore a quasar while transporting lifesaving medicine to a waypoint for a colony in need. He’s battled and bluffed his way through confrontations in space and has also shown prowess in hand-to-hand combat, but are humans exploring the galaxy just to get into fights? It’s understandable that conflicts are sometimes unavoidable, but at times, it seems as though Kirk is just looking for a reason to arm his photon torpedoes. I’m not saying that it’s unheard of for explorers to be capable of defending themselves, but it does seem a bit odd that Kirk’s approach to alien life tends to be confrontational and aggressive.

Kirk goes boldly where no man has gone before, but when does bold become brash? Seeking out new life seems dishonest when it often results in unnecessary conflict. He’s almost immediately opposed to General Trelane’s behavior in “The Squire of Gothos” and now, without asking any questions, he immediately chases after a fleeing ship with the intent to destroy it. To be fair, they did destroy a colony full of seemingly innocent people, but if Enterprise’s role is mainly to explore the galaxy, it’s not clear based on Kirk’s actions. At no point did the Enterprise's captain even try to communicate with the Gorn. Initiative was left to the other party, who reached out to him, explained his viewpoint, even offered his version of mercy.

I think Kirk just got lucky in the end. It made no sense for him to spare the Gorn and there was little indication that he should. What bothers me is that it’s yet another arbitrary standard enforced by a supposedly morally superior alien. Kirk’s mettle was subjectively assessed to be passable using a lousy test that was barely passable in its own right. This would have been a more interesting episode if Kirk’s mercy was rewarded with peace between humans and Gorn rather than a heavy-handed pat on the head by an almighty alien. Good boy, Kirk. You’ve shown mercy. If only there was another way a superior alien could coax a human into showing mercy than a gladiatorial contest.

3 Stars


Ineffective effects


by Janice L. Newman

Thus far, Star Trek has proven itself a cut above just about all other science fiction shows currently playing in the USA. The stories are often sophisticated, the alien menaces sympathetic, there are questions of morality and nuanced plotlines that you simply do not get in, say, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. The special effects, too, are often innovative and surprisingly convincing. The ship made of lights in "The Corbomite Maneuver" stands out, but even effects used across multiple episodes like the glitter of the transporter or the beam of a phaser just work, never jarring the viewer out of the story with how fake they seem. The salt monster in "The Man Trap", despite being the quintessential ‘man in a suit’, managed to be scary rather than ridiculous, and the bulbous-headed alien in "The Corbomite Maneuver" looked fake because, in a brilliant twist, it was.

"Arena" proved to be a disappointment in this, well, arena.

The first half of the episode is interesting. The ‘warzone’ that Captain Kirk and several of his crew find themselves in works well enough, using explosions combined with clever light effects similar to those used for the phasers. However, when Kirk is sent to confront the ‘Gorn’, we encounter one of the first special effects that threw me out of the story entirely.

The Gorn is a man in a suit. It’s a very good suit: well-designed and detailed. It’s clearly meant to be intimidating, with lots of teeth, faceted eyes, and big muscles. Unfortunately, it’s painfully obvious that the poor person inside the suit can barely move. The Gorn is slow, lumbering, and stiff. I can handwave some of this away. Maybe the Gorn’s planet has different gravity, or properties that give its particular bodily development an evolutionary advantage. Yet when Kirk fights the Gorn almost in slow-motion, giving time for the Gorn to swing back, I couldn’t help but immediately be reminded of every cheesy children’s sci-fi show and every low-budget sci-fi movie where a man in a suit tries to be convincingly scary.

They did their best. Kirk uses his speed to his advantage, darting around the rocks while the Gorn plods after him, convinced its superior strength will win in the end. It should be compelling, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t engage with it. I just couldn’t see the Gorn as anything but a man-in-a-suit.

There’s also the point that a supposedly advanced race that ostensibly values mercy and peace set up this “Arena” with the components of gunpowder and other tools available such that the two leaders can brutally kill each other, with the lives of their respective crews hanging in the balance. But others have already made that point.

Three stars.


Nothing if not consistent


by Gideon Marcus

I'm going to be the contrary one today.  Everyone else, for various reasons, has given "Arena" some flavor of three stars.  I'm going to give it a lot more.

Jessica makes a valid point.  The episode neatly brings up the "empty land" myth.  But unlike Jessica, I feel the showrunners did their job.  Indeed, they did it twice.  For it is not just Gorn land that was trespassed, but that of the Metrons.  If the Gorns (and by extension, the Skraelings of Vinland) are justified, then surely the Metrons are also justified in whatever actions they want to take to rid their space of the noisome invaders.  That their morals don't necessarily match ours is not surprising; "advanced" is a loaded term.  Kirk and the Gorn were the equivalent of two roly-polies unwanted in a garden.  The Metrons simply put the two of them in a little dish to see what would happen.

Personally, I don't believe the Metrons ever intended to kill anyone (or let anyone die), similar to Balok in "The Corbomite Maneuver".  They were just having fun and teaching us a lesson at the same time: Don't barge into unknown space without knocking.

As for Kirk being a lousy diplomat, point conceded.  But his actions are nothing if not consistent.  In "Balance of Terror", he dithered over engaging the Romulans despite a crystal clear course of action.  In "Arena" he is determined not to make that same mistake again even though, as Mr. Spock points out, the circumstances are not necessarily the same. 

And Mr. Spock, what a gem you are.  In "The Galileo Seven", he consistently finds solutions that result in the least loss of intelligent life, regardless of species.  Here he tries repeatedly to do so again, to the point that he is curtly silenced on the bridge by the captain.

We are frequently given to believe that Kirk is a brilliant commanding officer, someone to be admired.  But more and more, Star Trek is showing us who we really should root for.  Not the headstrong captain who is starting to favor his guns to his communicator, certainly not the overemotional McCoy, who seems to exist only to tease Spock about being an alien.  No, it is the cool, rational (if not always "logical" in the way Jessica would define the term!) Mr. Spock.  And maybe Mr. Sulu.  He was pretty nifty this episode, too. 

And Uhura.  That officer's got some good pipes on her.

Four and a half stars.



It looks like the Enterprise is going to meet Major Nelson this week!

Come join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific).  Here's the invitation!



[January 12, 1967] Most illogical (Star Trek: "The Galileo Seven")

Zero sum game


by Janice L. Newman

Ever since his masterful performance in “The Naked Time”, I’ve been eager to see more episodes featuring Leonard Nimoy’s half-Vulcanian, half-human character, “Spock”. This episode revolves around Spock, but it unfortunately does a poor job of what it sets out to do.

Continue reading [January 12, 1967] Most illogical (Star Trek: "The Galileo Seven")

[January 4, 1967] Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast (Star Trek: Shore Leave)


by Erica Frank

We join the Enterprise on Stardate 3025. The crew has had a rough few months and desperately needs some downtime. Fortunately, they have found what seems to be an ideal uninhabited planet for shore leave.

While the planet seems almost fairy-tale idyllic, with open meadows and pastoral lakes and meandering paths, it is soon clear that something strange is afoot. McCoy sees what he is sure is a hallucination: A man-sized rabbit holding a pocketwatch, muttering "I'm late" before hopping out of sight.


Not what we expected on an alien planet.

But the scan results are clear: No animal life found on the planet. No birds, no mammals, no insects.

Nobody asks why there are paths through the woods and around the lake, if there are no creatures to make them. Nobody asks why there are tree stumps. Nobody asks what's pollinating the flowers. …Nobody notices the antenna that tracks their movements.

A Grin Without a Cat

They split up to investigate, and Kirk finds someone who cannot possibly be here: Finnegan, a fellow he knew from the Academy. Finnegan was a practical joker who targeted Kirk all the time.


He looks like a fun fellow. (This looks like the ship's uniforms, but it's sparkling silver. How many outfits does Starfleet have?)

Finnegan immediately throws a punch at the Captain, but their fight is cut short when other crew members are in danger—Kirk rushes off to protect Barrows from Don Juan. Then Sulu gets chased by a samurai while the other team hides from a tiger. Spock beams down into this mess, and they discover their phasers aren't working and communications are down: they'll have to deal with the planet's problems on their own.

McCoy decides, "This is all hallucinations," and gets himself stabbed by a charging knight. It seems McCoy has forgotten every hallucination-inflicting alien they've encountered so far, starting with the salt vampire: The lance may be a hallucination, but the damage is real. If he thinks it's all hallucinations, why did he encourage Yeoman Barrows to swap her uniform for the princess dress they found? Is he happily imagining that she's actually wandering around naked?

While the team looks for answers, Finnegan reappears. Kirk, never one to skip out on a fight, chases him. Finnegan is tricky and tough, but Kirk refuses to give up.


I like Finnegan. He can punch the shirt off strapping young captains.

Kirk fights better once his shirt is torn. (I think Kirk gets special tear-away uniforms to enhance his fighting skills.) He eventually overcomes Finnegan, as he never could as a student, and grins. Spock, bemused that Kirk enjoyed the fight, realizes what's happening: Something is reading their thoughts and providing them the exact experiences they're seeking, even if those are dangerous.

They need to warn the others and figure out how to stop it. But first: They must escape the tiger and an airstrike! (Did the producers just have some airstrike footage they wanted to use? The samurai wasn't dangerous enough?) Kirk and Spock dodge for shelter together, pulling each other to safety as they dodge dangers from land and sky.


I'm sure this embrace was very relevant to the plot.

The surviving crew members meet back at the Glade. A very angry Kirk demands they stand at attention, not even thinking, while he looks around for… something, someone.

A man in a green robe walks out to greet them. He's the caretaker of this place, a kind of amusement park: Anything you imagine can be your exciting adventure here.

Kirk points out that adventures are substantially less fun when people die—but it turns out nobody is dead; McCoy was healed in their underground facilities. No harm done, all in good fun, and so on.


The druidic version of Mr. Green Jeans remains nameless.

Kirk asks the caretaker who his people are, but he demurs: "Your race is not yet ready to understand us." However, he welcomes them to enjoy the planet. With communications restored, Kirk orders the other teams to beam down for their shore leave.

This was a delightful episode. I believe this is the first time we've encountered godlike telepathic and technological powers that are not used to threaten and control people.

I hope to see more aliens like this, an advanced race that uses its abilities for peaceful, benevolent purposes. They aren't going to share their technology with still-warlike humans, but they open their vacation resort to those who need a break from their busy lives.

Five stars. Fun to watch, a return of Shirtless Kirk, and an immensely satisfying conclusion.


“Drink Me”


by Janice L. Newman

This was a fun and rollicking episode. At the same time, I found it unsettling.

In order for the story to work, the crew have to behave in ways that are out of character for a military crew. Not only do they not seem to notice the discrepancies Erica noted above, but they allow themselves to be distracted, separated, and discombobulated throughout the story. When Kirk meets his childhood sweetheart, he can’t take his eyes off her, unable to finish his sentences even as he’s having an important conversation with a member of his crew. Yeoman Barrows has no hesitation about changing into a fairy-tale dress she randomly finds, and McCoy has no hesitation in urging her to do it. When Sulu finds a gun under a rock, he picks it up and starts firing it.

These are not the actions of trained specialists.

The only thing that really makes sense is to assume that the planet has a built-in relaxing effect on the mind. Whether there’s some sort of drug in the air or something even more sophisticated — perhaps some sort of ray along the lines of what we saw in “Dagger of the Mind”, except this one causes mild euphoria instead of forgetfulness — it’s a little disturbing.

It’s perfectly logical that such a planet might have “something in the air” intended to help its visitors let go of their cares and worries. The people and things they encounter aren’t real, after all, and this might have a dampening effect if one thinks about it too hard (Kirk’s first love was nothing but a complex robot, yet even knowing this, he doesn’t hesitate to take his own shore leave at the end of the episode, very clearly looking forward to enjoying her charms). Some kind of ‘euphoria effect’ that helps the attendees of this planet-sized amusement park suspend disbelief in order to enjoy themselves seems almost a necessity.

However, the crew encounters and is influenced by whatever it is without any chance to say ‘no, thank you’. Even at the end, Kirk tells the Enterprise to start beaming people down, presumably with the intent of informing them of what kind of planet it is, but never mentions the euphoria effect. Do the crew even realize their minds have been affected? Will they recognize it after they leave?

As someone who values her ability to think in a straight line, I found the idea of being drugged without my knowledge disconcerting at best, and outright violative at worst. Not to mention, we don’t know how far the effect goes. Could it become addictive over time? Could it have other long-term consequences?

The existence of the euphoria effect is all extrapolation anyway, so maybe it shouldn’t bother me so much. But the alternative, that the crew just behaved unprofessionally and out-of-character for no reason at all, is even worse! Either way, it knocked the episode down for me a little, bringing it to three and a half stars.


”Pleasure Planet”


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

When we think of science fiction, we don’t often consider what entertainment will look like in the future. Our technology is so advanced that it’s hard to imagine what we might be able to accomplish in our lifetimes, let alone in the distant future–and so often, science fiction focuses on the advanced ways we might harm each other. But how about how we might please each other, or ourselves? Color television is the pinnacle of modern entertainment, and it seems that, in every episode, with marvelous plots and better special effects, Star Trek keeps pushing those boundaries.
“Shore Leave” conceives an entirely new level of entertainment.

Currently, Disneyland is the only thing that comes close, and if you’ve ever had the chance to visit, you’ll understand the boldness of that statement. But where Disneyland brings one man's imagination to life (that of Walt Disney, sadly gone from this world as of last month), "Shore Leave" presents an entire planet designed to grant your every wish. Maybe calling that an amusement park is an understatement, but there’s no better way to describe the way my head is still spinning with all the things that I would love to do if granted that opportunity.

Though, with all its ability, it seemed that the planet required a bit of suspension of disbelief on the part of the participants to be fully engaged. Maybe the planet was causing the landing crew to be less restrained. It’s not too much of a stretch to believe that the planet was also able to put people’s minds at ease. The vision is really what’s important. The point was to create a pleasure planet, and they accomplished that.

We, the audience, know that it’s not real. Even the emotional McCoy eventually determined that it wasn’t. It didn't keep him from being run through with a lance, but that’s beside the point. Of course, McCoy wasn’t permanently harmed in the process of fulfilling any fantasies, but he also couldn't fully enjoy himself until he let go of his inhibitions. It wasn’t until Kirk gave into his desire to “beat the tar out of Finnegan” that he was able to take full advantage of the planet’s capabilities. It was never made clear as to why the crew was acting a bit strange, but maybe this is just a reminder that suspending my own disbelief might make this a more enjoyable experience.

If entertainment comes anywhere close to this in the future, we’re in for a treat. Until then, I’m looking forward to the next episode of Star Trek on my color television.

Four stars.


Getting to know you


by Gideon Marcus

We've gotten hints of Captain Kirk's background before "Shore Leave"–we knew he was a stack of books with legs in his Academy days.  That he almost married a blonde woman Gary Mitchell steered his way.  And that he suffered on Tarsus IV under the iron hand of Governor Kodos. But for the most part, the history of James Kirk has been a mystery.

In one swell foop, we get confirmation that Kirk was "positively grim", we learn that he once deeply loved an older woman (the "blonde"?), that he was hounded by an upperclassman named Finnegan.  We also find out that the Captain enjoys an occasional Vulcanian backrub; I imagine Spock has special nerve pinches for tight lumbars.

Also fleshed out is McCoy, who finally gets to carouse after his traumatic "reunification" with a former flame back in "The Man Trap".  The doctor is quite charming, really, and I can see why he caught the eye of Yeoman Barrows (though I have to wonder if this relationship would have been kindled elsewhere than in the befuddling airs of the Shore Leave planet).

And finally, we're learning something about the universe as a whole.  There are three types of science fiction universe: those with lots of aliens, those with few aliens, and those with only humans.  Star Trek clearly takes place in the first of those types of settings.  We have seen almost as many races as we've watched episodes.  Most of them are indistinguishable from humans, but the Talosians, Vulcanians, Romulans and Thasians make clear that there are far out aliens as well.

So numerous are the aliens, and so familiar are the forms of many of them, that I suspect there will be some kind of explanation for the phenomenon.  "Miri" already has suggested one.  I look forward to the revelation when it happens.

In any event, a poll of our usual watching crew has elicited a wide range of appraisals for "Shore Leave", from 3 to 5.  For myself, there was never a moment I was not thoroughly enjoying the episode.

Five stars.


And come join us watching the next episode tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific):

Here's the invitation!



[December 24, 1966] Unquiet on the Romulan Front (Star Trek: "Balance of Terror")

Déjà vu


by Gideon Marcus

Under a blanket of unwinking stars, a lone vessel patrols on the trackless expanse between civilizations.  A distress call is heard: one, two, now three voices stilled in the night by an unknown raider.  Not long ago, the enemy had been defeated but not broken in war, and it seems the old adversary has returned.  Now, the navy ship probes out an unseen predator, cloaked in darkness, wielding torpedoes of death.

"The Enemy Below" (1957) Gregory Peck, Kurt Jurgens, 4:30 Channel 4

Er…strike that.

"Balance of Terror" (1966) William Shatner, Mark Lenard, 8:30 Channel 9

It has always been hinted that the Enterprise, the featured ship on Star Trek, is a military vessel.  Indeed, its role seems not unlike the frigates of the 19th Century, showing the flag at ports of call, projecting power at critical junctures, providing relief when requested.  But in this latest episode, we see Kirk and crew in a full-blown military situation, fighting a tactical battle with huge strategic ramifications.

"Balance of Terror" succeeds best at the big-picture stuff.  All at once, the burgeoning Earth civilization has at least one border.  Prior to this outing, there had been just one contact with a spacefaring race, and that ("The Corbomite Manuever") a particularly asymmetrical one. 

With the introductions of the Romulans, Earth now has an adversary of roughly comparable strength and abilities.  And what an intriguing adversary!  Mark Lenard, who I've seen on various other TV shows, gives a fine turn as the Romulan commander, war-weary but canny We also learn a bit more about the Vulcanians, and that their peaceful, logical ways are a comparatively recent development.  I would love to see the Romulans return as a regular foil for the Enterprise crew, though that may prove logistically impractical.  After all, the two nations are separated by a large Neutral Zone, and communication between them is explicitly limited.

The brooding cinematography of "The Man Trap" is back on display, and it is attractive ("Miri" director, Vince McEevety is also back).  Shatner is once again compelling in his role as commander, though there are not too many contributions from the ensemble this outing (though Kelley is awarded a few good scenes).  I appreciated that men and women are not only shown serving side-by-side effectively on a warship, but that they are also allowed to have human relationships, even to the point of getting married.  A far better future than the one envisioned by Dr. Richardson a decade ago, when he opined that spacefaring would be an all-stag operation, one which women would partake in only as prostitutes to satisfy the inevitable male urges.

Where "Balance of Terror" falls down, although not too often, is the tactical end of things.  Uncomfortable gymnastics are required to stuff Trek into a destroyer vs. sub plot.  Do the crews really have to stay silent to avoid being heard across thousands of kilometers of vacuum?  Why do the Enterprise's phasers shut down after their first salvo?  What, exactly, was the purpose of the two ships lying dead silent next to each other for half a day if Spock was just going to accidentally push the ping button on his console anyway?  Better if that had been a deliberate action.

Also, while I appreciated the anti-bigotry message that pervades the episode, it seemed odd that Stiles and Sulu would immediately suspect the presence of Romulan spies aboard the Enterprise—before we even saw that Romulans looked like Spock.  Given that it had been a century since humans and Romulans had had contact, and that neither side had ever seen each other or spoken directly to each other, how would the Romulans have a chance to infiltrate themselves into Earth space, and aboard a military vessel, at that?

Finally, why the hand-wringing over whether to engage the enemy or not?  The Romulans were the clear aggressors, they were on our side of the Neutral Zone, and the Enterprise specifically dispatched to investigate.  I can see Kirk worried about losing his vessel and his crew, but I'm not sure why he, and Sulu and McCoy, were advocating holding back for fear of starting a war.  After Pearl Harbor, were we (America) really concerned about making the Japanese mad by fighting back?

On the other hand, we've learned over the past half season that McCoy will always advocate the opposite of whatever Spock endorses.  If Spock had turned around and suggested retreat, McCoy would have urged for the attack.  Those two…

Anyway, it's a good episode, a promising one, but pacing issues and a derivative plot keep it at four stars.


A Dangerous Game of Peekaboo


by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It was about time that we finally got to see some bigger conflicts in the final frontier. Until now, all we’ve seen is petty squabbles between humans and the occasional alien. This episode marked the first time we find Kirk in a position where making even a single poor decision could have catastrophic repercussions that land him on the wrong side of history. Will Kirk be a hero, or will he allow the Romulans to start a war?

We’ve seen some of the ship's combat capabilities and some interesting tactics in past episodes, but not until “Balance of Terror” have we seen Kirk use the Enterprise in combat. In truth, I was interested in seeing how Kirk fared in battle. It was a thrill to see both captains make mistakes that the other capitalized on. They learned and adapted, and there’s just something beautiful about that dance between experts.

This was one of the more exciting episodes of Star Trek, but “Balance of Terror” fell short for me by turning Stiles into a revenge driven maniac and Kirk into a timid commander. Stiles was right: the Romulans had crossed over the neutral zone, destroyed several science stations, and were sneaking back across to report to their home planet, yet Kirk hesitated. It is lazy writing to have a leader who has every reason to act, but chooses not to because it creates more drama. 

But Stiles was right the way a stopped clock can be right. The way that he conducted himself was out of line. Stiles' bigotry is a deep-seated family affair. He didn’t even know what the Romulans looked like before he suspected Spock, the only alien aboard. Subtle hatred turned into fully-realized racism as soon as the Romulan captain was revealed. Kirk’s attempt to rein in his navigator with “their war, Mr. Stiles” did little to dispel his hatred.

Stiles’ mindset is unfortunately not uncommon. It’s all too familiar to me as a Vietnamese man. There are very few of my race in the United States, and I often get mistaken for a Japanese or Chinese man. There’s no doubt that I share some common ancestry with those nationalities, but it would be like mistaking an Dutchman for a German…or a Vulcanian for a Romulan. We are not the same, even if we look the same (to less discerning eyes). I appreciate Kirk’s repeated expressed opposition to bigotry. I am also glad that, in the end, Stiles learned the error of his ways. There is no place for bigotry on the Enterprise, especially when one considers that the fellow who plays Sulu (the best crewman) likely was imprisoned just for his race just twenty years ago.

I enjoyed the sniping interaction between Spock and McCoy in the last episode ( "Conscience of the King"), but it was just out of place here. McCoy’s objections to battling the invading Romulan seemed contrarian for no reason other than to continue the Spock vs. McCoy theme. I know the writers are capable of writing more complexity into this relationship, and I hope they do so. Still, I'm glad that Spock and McCoy's bickering has no racial basis; sometimes family just has to argue over everything.

Quibbles aside, I enjoyed the show. I hope to see the Romulans again and to see Kirk return to form.

4 Stars


Mirror images


by Andrea Castaneda

Andrea Castaneda here, news photographer extraordinaire.

Truth be told, I don't consider myself a huge Star Trek fan. I appreciate the show, yes, but it’s not something I've specifically sought out. But with “Balance of Terror”, I can now see why Star Trek is already beloved, even groundbreaking. 

There are two things I love in a show: well established emotional stakes and sympathetic antagonists. And this episode did a great job at showcasing both.

I appreciate how the show opens with a wedding ceremony. It’s a simple one, with the couple in uniform with only a white fascinator in the bride‘s hair. Captain Kirk seems genuinely moved by the young couple’s love. It's a nice moment of calm before the storm, and it sets emotional stakes for the episode that parallel the larger, political ones.

I also liked the organic way in which Kirk explained the Neutral Zone to his crew. It feels believable that there may be many on board who don’t understand the specifics, and the show explains it succinctly enough to clue the audience in without boring them.

Then we encounter the Romulans. We learn about their military philosophy, how they descended from the Vulcanians, and how their technology is a force to be reckoned with.  We meet the commander of the Romulan ship, coiffed with a haircut reminiscent of Julius Caesar. He comes across as a shrewd man, but not a cruel one. And after learning more about the Romulan philosophy, one can understand why he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

And this is where I enjoyed the show the most.

The commander is a savvy military man, meaning Kirk must step up. Kirk shows his military prowess, observing the enemy, consulting with his crew, and anticipating the Romulans’ next move. Yet Kirk does not revel in his victories. Instead, he expresses concern for his crew, self doubt over what happens “if he’s wrong”.

Meanwhile on the Romulan ship, their commander is simultaneously impressed and frustrated by Kirk’s outmaneuvering. After gaining the upper hand, he becomes torn between his duty and his desire to go home; duty wins out and compels him to move forward.

In the end, the Enterprise’s crew prevails, and the audience celebrates with them, yet I felt for the defeated commander. Yes, he initiated the attacks on Earth’s outposts. But the way he yearned for home was relatable, inspiring sympathy.

It’s what made the final exchange between him and Captain Kirk so memorable: “You and I are of a kind. In a different reality, I could have called you friend.”

It’s a fitting end for the antagonist, though I did wish we could see more of him.

Something that wasn’t made clear was why the Romulans were attacking in the first place other than a vague national desire for military conquest. I hope we see some diplomatic fallout over this incursion in a future episode. Also, I was disappointed in the resolution of Stiles' bigotry. Spock had to risk his life to prove that he's "a good person", relieving Stiles of actually examining his own prejudices.

Nevertheless, the episode created a great sense of vulnerability and concern for the characters and the intergalactic relations in general. And thanks to the earlier wedding scene, the one death of a lesser crewmember had a much more emotional impact.

Four stars.


A First True Trekian Tragedy


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I think this episode was the first true tragedy in Star Trek and I deeply appreciated the depth it added to both the characters and the worlds they live in. In the episode, we see both sides of a conflict, shown through two commanders contesting their wills, driven by their cultures, their own personalities, and each holding within them their own tragic flaws. We already know one of Kirk’s major flaws, laid bare in The Enemy Within: he can be indecisive in the face of conflict. As Tam notes, the Romulan commander does not share this flaw. But he tends towards aggression, to the point of self-destruction. He seems to imply this is a cultural characteristic, in addition to a personal one:

Romulan Commander: When he attacks, we will destroy him. Our gift to the homeland, another war.

He continues critically, describing what he thinks his and his crew’s lots are:

”Obedience. Duty. Death and more death. Soon even enough for the Praetor's taste. Centurion, I find myself wishing for destruction before we can return.”

He certainly gets it.

The question rises for me, whether this episode could be a Greek or a Shakesperian tragedy. It would be interesting to contemplate the extent to which Dr McCoy is serving as Greek Chorus, commenting on the main action, speaking for the Gods who desire more peace and less death; but, to me and asking Tam’s forgiveness for bringing up the Bard again, it feels more Shakesperian. We see “two households, both alike in dignity,” fighting and hiding along a functional demilitarized zone. The Romulan Commander has Othello’s battle smarts and there is something of Prince Hal’s early relationship with Falstaff in his conversations with his Centurion. The Commander’s death – drawn out, with a monologue, intrinsically tied to his tragic flaw–feels ready-made for the wooden stage of the Globe.

But Kirk and the Romulan Commander’s tragedy is not the only one in Balance of Terror. The story begins with a wedding and ends with a funeral. We see no tragic flaw in Angela Martine or Robert Tomlinson, unless it was his obedience. To me, that makes his senseless death and her bereavement feel like a modern tragedy: one with no purpose, no pat lesson, just the reality that after death and destruction, we need to get up and keep going. Angela’s expression as she gives the last line of the episode, telling Kirk “I’m all right,” reminded me of the expressions of thousands of widows of the soldiers, airmen, marines, and sailors killed in Vietnam this year on all sides.

Five stars.