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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 24, 1968] The New Wave comes to TV (Star Trek: "Is There in Truth No Beauty?")

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by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek is usually defined as an "action-adventure show" or maybe just a "science fiction program".  While it is the first truly SFnal production on television (The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits had their moments, but for the most part, their science fiction was primitive), for its first two seasons, it tended to hew close to its '40s era Astounding Science Fiction roots.

With last week's episode, that all changed.  The 1960s, and the experimental New Wave movement, has arrived on television.

Diana Muldaur returns to Trek as Dr. Miranda Jones, a human telepath who has never seen Earth, but who spent four years on Vulcan learning to master and tame her profound powers.  She has been tapped to serve as ambassador to the Medusans, a race of inchoate aliens of sublime thoughts and profound navigational abilities, but whose appearance is so hideous as to render all humans who see them insane.  Jones is accompanied by the Medusan ambassador to the Federation, Kollos, who spends most of his time in a box for the safety of the crew.


Ambassador Kollos is brought to his quarters by Mr. Spock and Dr. Jones

Jones is a meaty role, much more interesting than when Muldaur played Dr. Ann Mulhall in "Return to Tomorrow", and Muldaur plays it perfectly.  Her demeanor is largely arch and cool, as befits Vulcan stoicism, but there are flashes of the human, too: jealousy regarding her unique relationship with Kollos, which she feels is threatened by Spock, who can both look at Kollos and communicate with him; irritation at the parochial behavior of the Enterprise's senior officers, who can't believe she'd give up on men to live with a monster; resentment when things do not go her way.


"Gentlemen, surely we can patronize Dr. Jones a little more intensely. Perhaps if we tower over her!"

The fly in this episode's ointment is another kind of emotion: one-sided love.  Accompanying Jones is Lawrence Marvick, an illustrious engineer who is ostensibly there to contemplate how a Medusan might integrate into the crew of a starship.  His real aim, however, is to convince Jones to abandon her mission to stay with him.  To attain this goal, he is willing to resort to murder.  Unfortunately for him, when he confronts Kollos, phaser in hand, all the alien has to do is open his protective box.  Marvick is violently repelled by Kollos' appearance and, insane, takes control of engineering just long enough to drive the Enterprise into the barrier that surrounds the galaxy.  The ship becomes lost in the zone, and none of the crew can navigate the ship out.



Where 430 men (and women) have gone twice before.

But Kollos can.  Spock, with his telepathic abilities and his Starfleet training, volunteers to fuse minds with the Medusan, resulting in an astonishing hybrid, which successfully navigates the ship out of the zone with no difficulty.  I cannot adequately express how marvelous Nimoy is in this role, subtly uniting the sober Spock with the somewhat whimsical, profound Kollos in an absolutely unique performance.


Sp/ollos makes an excellent navigator.  I'd love to see a Medusan/Vulcan gestalt in a future episode!

The crew is not out of the woods, however.  Upon returning Kollos to his box, Spock inadvertently catches a glimpse of the Medusan and goes insane.  Only Jones and her telepathic abilities can save him—but her pettiness causes her to hesitate.  It is up to Kirk, frantic with worry for his friend (indeed, seemingly more worried than he was for his ship, for once) to convince the doctor to do her utmost.  In the end, what convinces her is the thought that Kollos would never forgive her if she let Spock die.


Kirk gives Dr. Jones a tough talk.  To his credit, he is immediately concerned he did it wrong.  (For the most part, he does…but one arrow hits the mark.)

I must express how excellent Shatner's performance is in this episode, as well.  Missing are his usual, scenery-chewing tics.  I have to think that the superlative jobs the cast did in this outing must be somewhat attributed to director Ralph Senensky.

Indeed, all of the "staff officers" of the show, from the cinematographer to the score master to the costume designer, work to elevate the production of "Truth".  There are unusual angles, edits, and lenses to convey the disjointedness of insanity and to give a fresh feeling to the show; the score is entirely new and very evocative (though the distinctive "fight" theme is used perhaps one time too many); Dr. Jones' dress, which turns out to be a sensor web, enabling the normally sightless doctor to navigate (an excellent twist tastefully revealed), is terrific.

To be sure, the episode is not completely unexplored territory.  Ugliness not equaling evil was a significant message in "The Devil in the Dark", with the monstrous Horta being a gentle, desperate mother being.  The Enterprise has visited the galactic barrier twice before, in "Where No Man Has Gone Before" and "By Any Other Name".  Both Spock and the ship are put in danger, two occurrences which the show-runners have made almost de riguer as plot drivers.


Amok Spock—don't drop acid, kids.

But it's the way it's all done that's special.  Beyond the first class work turned in by the cast and crew, the writer must be credited.  The pacing is unusual for Trek, with the episode's four acts of unequal length adding to the dreamy sense of madness that suffuses the episode.  There is no one crisis to be resolved, but a mounting series of crises all revolving around the Spock/Miranda/Kollos relationship.  In the end, the episode is not about Spock surviving or the Enterprise crew getting home safely, but about an unique woman in an unique situation navigating the fusion of not two but three alien races.

It's a rich, beautiful thing.  Jean Lisoette Aroeste is a new name to me.  This may well be her very first screenplay, and it is her newness that brings such a fresh cast to the show.  Just as IF has made it its mission to bring new writers into the literary SF genre, it appears that the mature show of Star Trek may be providing that same vehicle for SF screenwriters (particularly women—the upcoming script, "The Empath" is also by a TV novice, the friend of a fanzine-writing friend).

I can't wait to see how the show develops as a result.  5 stars.

You've come a long way, baby


by Janice L. Newman

Most of the time, Star Trek gets it right. Women are frequently shown in positions of power and authority, and are given the respect such positions deserve. But even in the future, they occasionally run afoul of the undercurrent of sexism omnipresent in our own society. The dismissive attitude about Lieutenant Palamas in Who Mourns for Adonais, for example, or the exasperation shown toward Commissioner Hedford in Metamorphosis (not to mention the lack of concern for her ultimate fate), jar uncomfortably against our hopes and visions of a world where women have true equality and are allowed to pursue their dreams without facing condemnation or condescension—regardless of whether their dream is to be an engineer, a mother, or both.

The silver lining is when the women turn the sexist expectations of the male crewmembers on their heads. The treatment of Dr. Miranda Jones by the senior officers of the Enterprise (excluding Spock) borders on insulting. Dr. McCoy questions her career choice, while Captain Kirk is convinced of his own ability to divert her attention to himself, and patronizingly explains to her what she really wants.

Some of the best moments of the episode are when Dr. Jones defies the men’s expectations. Consider this exchange:

Dr. McCoy: “How can one so beautiful condemn herself to look upon ugliness the rest of her life? Will we allow it, gentlemen?”

All the men at the table: Certainly not.

Dr. Jones: How can one so full of joy and the love of life as you, Doctor, condemn yourself to look upon disease and suffering for the rest of your life? Can we allow that, gentlemen?

Or this one:

Captain Kirk: You're young, attractive and human. Sooner or later, no matter how beautiful their minds are, you're going to yearn for someone who looks like yourself, someone who isn't ugly.

Miranda: Ugly. What is ugly? Who is to say whether Kollos is too ugly to bear or too beautiful to bear?

Miranda’s quick witted responses, turning the men’s words back on themselves, are enormously satisfying. Her resistance to Captain Kirk’s charms is equally delightful. As much as I dislike any portrayal of sexism in the future, Miranda’s counters made it worth it. They made me wonder about the author of the episode, who she(?) is and whether she encounters such comments in her own daily life. Were the words of Dr. Jones intended to give professional women everywhere a blueprint for how to deal with such difficult situations?

Four and a half stars.

The Ambassadors


by Joe Reid

An ambassador is one that represents their country to a host country.  This week in Star Trek we got to see several ambassadors of several races…and of more than one variety.

From the onset of the episode, when we were introduced to Dr. Jones, her desirability as a woman was heavily stressed.  Kirk paid Jones several compliments that would lead one to think that Kirk really had a strong interest in her.  These were followed by McCoy, and even Spock, who later dressed in Vulcan formal attire with the intent of honoring Dr. Jones. 

All the males in this episode seemed strongly drawn to Dr. Jones, even the poor lovesick fellow who lost his life pursuing her.  What was also clear was that Doctor Jones had absolutely no interest in the attention of these men in the episode.  She was essentially at war with those who wanted her (perhaps a necessary battle to win status as a woman).  What piqued her interest was the possibility of building a stronger connection to ambassador Kollos through a mind melding.

Her desire for Kollos was so all-encompassing that when it was revealed that Spock would have an opportunity to meld with Kollos ahead of her, she screamed out in frustration.  Her rejection of the attentions of all other men throughout the episode demonstrated her desire for Kollos.

In the end, her desires were requited.  Kollos did indeed have some measure of desire for her as well.  We saw this as when he joined with Spock, Kollos paid special attention to her, highlighting the fact that her future and his would be intertwined going forward on his world in their near future.  Although this was complicated when he also paid special attention to Uhura, Jones was able to receive confirmation of Kollos’ feeling for her when she melded with Spock in order to save his life.  That connection to Kollos through Spock was all that she needed to assuage her fears and insecurity about her future with Kollos.

This successful conclusion to the story had Spock himself playing as the ambassador from the heart of Kollos to the heart of Jones, thus ending the quiet war between men and the doctor.


Happy endings for everyone.

It was a fantastic story with solid acting, great costumes, and three-dimensional characterizations.  More of this please!

Five stars




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

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

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by Janice L. Newman

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who's Responsible?


by Lorelei Marcus

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

Successes and Failures of Fear


by Mx. Blue Cathey-Thiele

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


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

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

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

4 stars

Without Followers, Evil Cannot Spread


by Robin Rose Graves

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

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


"Segregation now, Segregation tomorrow, Segregation forever!"

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

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


3 stars.

Un-asked Questions


by Joe Reid

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

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


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

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

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

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

One star

Give kids a chance


by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 14, 1968] Outta Space and Outta Mind (Doctor Who: The Mind Robber)

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By Jessica Holmes

This month on Doctor Who, we’re headed out of space and out of time and into a place rather more strange: the land of fiction. This is a bit of a weird one.

Let’s take a look at The Mind Robber, shall we?


This is supposed to be lava. Or Dulkis has oddly foamy volcanoes.

Once Upon A Time

Trying to describe the plot of The Mind Robber is like trying to describe the plot of Yellow Submarine or Alice In Wonderland. Technically speaking you can, but doing it in a way that doesn’t sound like you’re off your head on cough syrup (which I currently am, but that’s beside the point) is another question. We’re firmly in dream-logic territory here, so you might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

With the TARDIS sitting in the path of an oncoming lava flow, it would behoove the Doctor to find somewhere else to park his motor. However, the ship refuses to start, forcing the Doctor to use the emergency unit to yoink the TARDIS out of reality entirely. And that is where the real trouble begins.

Being nowhere and nowhen, you’d think the TARDIS and its inhabitants would be safe. Surely nothing could exist outside of time and space, right? The Doctor doesn’t know, and what he doesn’t know can most certainly hurt them.

It’s not long before visions of home and voices in their head lure the three of them outside the safety of the TARDIS. When they try to return, the ship disintegrates, stranding them in a pitch-dark void.

The next we see of the crew, they’re separated and searching for each other in some sort of maze. Jamie gets shot by an English redcoat and turns into a faceless cardboard cutout. Zoe ends up trapped in a jar. The Doctor is beset by creepy children with a fondness for riddles.

It makes exactly as much sense in context.

The Doctor revives Jamie by putting his face back together (badly), and once reunited with Zoe the group try to get their bearings. What appears from ground level as a maze or a dense forest is in fact a page of written text. They’re in a world of words.

They’re then captured by tin soldiers and led to a black void where a charging unicorn tries to run them through. That’s a sentence I didn’t expect to write in the context of Doctor Who.

How do you stop a charging unicorn? Remind it that there’s no such thing as unicorns, silly. This actually works, and becomes a handy method for dealing with the fantastical threats of this strange place. In a world of imagination, belief is a powerful thing.

After another run-in with a redcoat, the Doctor gets a chance to fix Jamie’s face (he went all cardboard-y after once again trying to bring a knife to a gun-fight), the group find their way to a labyrinth. There they get separated, and the Doctor and Zoe come face to face with a Minotaur. Handsome fellow. Meanwhile, Jamie climbs Rapunzel’s tower. She doesn’t think much of him (only a prince is good enough for her), but is quite amusingly resigned to having every Tom, Dick and Harry use her hair as a rope.

Following a run-in with Medusa, some handy directions from Gulliver and a little tussle with a comic strip villain (and surprising combat skills from Zoe), the Doctor and Zoe eventually join him. Inside the tower, they find a device that’s been attempting (unsuccessfully) to predict (or control) the Doctor’s progress, narrating it as if it was in a storybook. Someone is trying to turn the Doctor into fiction.

The man behind the curtain, so to speak, is the Master (Emrys Jones). Formerly a serialist from the 1920s, he's now a servant to a supercomputer with a bit of a god-complex and no imagination.


Not shown: the gross bit of something or other the Master had in the corner of his mouth in some shots. Maybe he'd just finished his lunch when the Doctor showed up.

He’s technically a prisoner, but is quite enjoying himself. He has access to all of human literature and gets to make make-believe a reality. But he’s no longer young, and the Doctor is ageless. That’s why he’s been trying to trap him in this fictional world. In short… it’s a job offer.

One the Doctor isn't allowed to refuse, but he does so anyway.

The Master responds to his obstinance by taking Jamie and Zoe captive and trapping them between the pages of a book, both literally and figuratively. The line between those two concepts is quite blurry in the land of fiction.

The Doctor makes a run for it. He tries to edit the master tape of his narrative, but realises that writing fiction with himself as a character would trap him inside the story, and the Master would be able to do as he pleased.


This is probably the most miserable I've seen this Doctor. At one point he's on the verge of tears. Some very nice acting from Troughton. I just want to give him a hug and a cup of tea.

Getting tired of his resistance, the Master uses his powers to turn a fictionalised Jamie and Zoe against the Doctor. They trick him into stepping into a trap (which he really should have seen coming, but then again he was very upset and thought he'd lost them forever). With that, the Doctor’s imagination becomes part of the computer.

But what is this all for? The same thing every other Doctor Who villain wants, apparently. To take over the Earth.

However, the problem with plugging the Doctor directly into this computer is that he has a mind of his own. Now he can manipulate the narrative. What ensues could be called a battle of wills, but could equally be called a playground slapfight, but without anyone running home crying to Mummy about the other children not playing the game properly.

The Doctor frees Jamie and Zoe, so the Master dreams up a threat, which the Doctor conjures up a defence against, and on and on it goes. Neither side gets much of an advantage over the other, but the situation gets odder by the second. At one point Sir Lancelot ends up fighting Blackbeard. It is delightfully weird.

All this push and pull overloads the computer, and it eventually jams up, allowing the Doctor to break free. As the robots start firing on everything in sight, the Doctor and company flee. The computer blows up behind them, taking the fictional world with it.

With the narrative broken, things go back to how they should be. The TARDIS is in one piece. The Doctor and his companions are safe (as they ever can be)… and I expect that somewhere in the 20s a writer is waking up from a nap having had a very strange dream indeed.

Curiouser and Curiouser

So this is a surreal story to say the least. You’ve got companions changing faces (Hamish Wilson makes a pretty good Jamie for an episode), reality warping to fit a story, and a whole cast of fictional characters swanning about the narrative. Well, it’s a fictional story, so they’re all made up. Fictional within the world of Doctor Who. Extra-fictional. Double fictional.

You’ve got your classics like Medusa (with rather excellent stop-motion snake hair) and the Minotaur, at least one fairytale princess, a raygun-toting supervillain, and even book characters. Lemuel Gulliver (Bernard Horsfall) is probably the most prominent of the bunch. He pops up every now and then to speak in an oddly cryptic manner and offer some friendly advice before swanning off again. The reason for his cryptic speech is simple: he can only speak in words that his written counterpart used. He does his best to get his point across, but his vocabulary can only stretch so far. He acts of his own volition, but is unable to act against the will of the Master or even perceive anything that the Master doesn’t want him to see.

That’s just such a fascinating idea to me. It's a really interesting way to distinguish between the fictional and the real. And yet with that in mind, I have to wonder something. Lemuel Gulliver was never real in the first place, but there are characters in this story who were. How much of the original Edward Teach is left inside the fictionalised version of Blackbeard? Or Cyrano de Bergerac? Are they constructed entirely from the imagination? Or are they like the Master Controller, plucked out of time and forced to assume a role? It’s a ghastly fate when you think about it.

Come to think of it, it’s not so pleasant for the people who were never real in the first place. They might lack free will and have limited means to express themselves, but does that mean they don’t have actual consciousness? Do they think and feel, or are they just puppets with the illusion of life? Did they die when the computer blew up? Could they even be said to be alive in the first place? Am I thinking much too deeply about a surrealist romp?

Maybe we’ll leave this one to the philosophers.

Final Thoughts

What an odd serial. I still have questions about where the fiction-obsessed computer came from, or how it had such a huge degree of control over reality (or unreality, I should say), but mostly I’m just delighted. It’s so much fun! You never know what’s going to happen next, but whatever it is, it’s bound to be wonderful. Childlike glee, that’s what it gave me. I was big on the Greek myths as a child (the monster-related ones, naturally), so when the Minotaur turned up it was almost like an old friend. A big, old, man-eating friend.

Also, is it bad I’ve never got around to reading Gulliver’s Travels? I think I had a picture book about that bit with the little people but otherwise I have no idea what happens in it.

Anyway. The Mind Robber. It’s weird and surreal and sometimes things happen for no clear reason other than ‘because that’s how the story goes’, and I am…fine with that. I’m actually perfectly fine with not understanding everything. Why shouldn’t the world outside time and space as we understand it be one of pure imagination?

4.5 out of 5 stars for The Mind Robber




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

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

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by Gideon Marcus

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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


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

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


"Oooo, that smarts!"

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


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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

Cosmic Implications


by Lorelei Marcus

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

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


A relic of the empire

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Pilgrim's Regress


by Amber Dubin

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

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

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

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

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

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

2 stars.


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

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




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[October 4, 1968] (Star Trek: "The Enterprise Incident")

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by Erica Frank

This episode begins with Kirk acting strangely, and everyone on the Enterprise has noticed. He is snappish, angry, arbitrary; he gives orders that defy Federation law and threatens people who argue with him.

His crew is loyal; they have been through many hardships together—so when he orders them into the Romulan Zone, they obey, although they are obviously nervous.


The Captain's orders are final

They are, of course, discovered, surrounded by Romulan vessels of a new, Klingon design. Kirk and Spock are compelled to beam aboard the Romulan ship to discuss matters, in exchange for two Romulan prisoners sent to the Enterprise. Kirk insists their location is a matter of instrument error: by the time they discovered the mistake, they were too deep in Romulan territory to get away quickly. The Romulan Commander (the first woman flag officer we have met in the show) says that sounds like—well, she doesn't call it the produce of a hind end of a male cow, because she is being politely formal, and this is a television show for families (and the Romulans may not have cattle), but she obviously indicates that it sounds implausible to her.


Color her unconvinced

Spock… confirms her opinion. Says the captain has been irrational recently. That he ordered them past the Neutral Zone. Kirk gets angry and threatens him, and is removed to the Romulan brig. Later, he injures himself enough that they call McCoy to attend him, and he attacks Spock. Spock defends himself with the "Vulcan death grip," an attack we haven't seen before, that looks surprisingly similar to the mind-meld grip.


The closer Jim gets, the worse he looks…

The Romulans send the captain's body back to his ship while the Romulan Commander attempts to convince Spock that he'd be much happier in the Romulan empire.

Have we seen this before?

McCoy revives Kirk. (I wonder if anyone actually thought Kirk died.) Kirk tells a select few people that his supposed insanity was a ruse, a form of dodging accountability in case they were captured. This is an undercover mission. 

The interesting part of the episode, for me, is the Romulan Commander's discussions with Spock. She attempts to seduce him in multiple ways, first laying out how much more power he'd have in the Romulan empire, and when Spock says he does not want command of a ship, she switches tactics. She offers him fine Vulcan food, which he admits is better than what's on the Enterprise. Pours him drinks—first a clear blue-green liquid, and later something orange, served in small glasses like liquor. Spock eats tiny food on toothpicks, and relaxes with her.

She puts herself into the bargain: "Romulan women are not like Vulcan females; they're not… dedicated to pure logic." She drapes herself enticingly, making sure he knows what she's offering. She whispers her name in his ear, and he tells her it's beautiful.


Oiling her traps

At each point, he makes appreciative comments, tells her that the offer is indeed a good one. That he can tell he'd have more power, more freedom, more creature comforts in the Romulan empire.

Eventually, he agrees to her terms: he will lead a small party of Romulans aboard the Enterprise, and from there order the ship to surrender at a Romulan port, her flagship at its side.

It doesn't matter what the terms are. He's lying. He's obviously lying—at least, it's obvious to anyone who knows him. Maybe outsiders who think Vulcans are actually emotionless would believe that Spock agreeing that the food is good means he's content to betray his heritage and his captain and wander off to a government with helmets designed to cover pointed ears.

Predictable but not boring

Instead, it turns out Spock was stalling for time so Kirk could sneak back to the Romulan ship in disguise and grab the new cloaking device. Scotty then has to install and use it before the Romulans get their phasers online—of course there's a deadline. But if we didn't believe Spock used a death grip on Kirk, we weren't going to believe the Romulans would succeed in blowing up the Enterprise. We wonder how they will escape, but not whether.

We could see the Commander convincing herself that her seduction was working—and we could also see Spock watching her reactions, feeding her facts that would convince her that he agreed, without actually admitting to being moved by her offer. Since he's a Vulcan, she doesn't expect him to offer an emotional reaction—and she fails to notice that not only is his enthusiasm lacking, so is any admission that he's actually been persuaded.

He says that the food is better than what the Enterprise has—he doesn't say that he'd leave his position for it. "Please give up your career; we have better snacks" is not going to work on anyone who actually likes their job.

Four stars. I loved the nuanced interactions between them, and I could tell something was off about Kirk but wasn't sure what until McCoy revived him.

Rewriting the present


by Gideon Marcus

Somewhere in North Korea, 83 American sailors and officers are interned, their captain occasionally forced to make confessions as to why his spy ship, the U.S.S. Pueblo, was inside Communist waters in January of this year.  I'm sure you all remember the news—air units were redeployed from Vietnam to Japan, the U.S.S. Enterprise (the aircraft carrier, not Kirk's ship) was stationed off the North Korean coast, and there were rumbles of an impending World War 3.  Indeed, if it hadn't been for the North Vietnamese launching their Tet holidays offensive at the end of January, shifting our focus, who knows where things might have ended up?

With The Enterprise Incident, the metaphor couldn't be more blatant.  The Romulans have been remolded.  Gone are the Kriegsmarine/Roman hybrids that populated "Balance of Terror".  Now they are cloaked in Orientalism, down to the little sideburns Joanne Linville sports, with their smooth speech reminiscent of every movie that features a sinister Red Chinese or Korean.  Vina's exotic theme from "The Cage" has been reworked for the Romulan Commander (effectively, I might add).  The defense-minded Romulans, who showed no interest in capturing the Enterprise when it violated the Neutral zone in "The Deadly Years", suddenly want nothing more than the prize of one of Star Fleet's finest vessels, a greed that proves their undoing.

And so, the American public gets to have its cake and eat it, too.  The Romulan Commander has the right of it when she accuses Kirk of entering Romulan space on a Federation-sanctioned espionage mission to get the cloaking device.  Yet, thanks to a series of Mission: Impossible-style exploits, the "good guys" get away with not only bearding the lion, but stealing the lioness. Rah, rah.  We win.


For ease of maintenance, you can't beat the easy-to-remove Cloaking Device!

This episode is only the latest in what has become a kind of motif.  Earlier this year, John Wayne's "The Green Berets" (the movie that took Sulu away from us for much of Trek's second season) turned Vietnam into World War 2, complete with a platoon with soldiers named Muldoon and Kowalski—and precious few black troops.  David Janssen, no longer a fugitive, plays a jaded reporter, who comes to learn the value of the American presence in Southeast Asia.  And so, contrary to any news you might have read this year, we win the war in Vietnam.

And just last month, the movie Anzio came out, detailing that SNAFU of a landing on the Italian coast in January 1944.  Robert Mitchum plays…a jaded reporter, who comes to learn the pointlessness of the American presence in southern Europe.  Thus, the anti-war movement comes to World War 2.

Mind you, "The Enterprise Incident" is better than either of those two movies.  It's superlatively paced, the dialogue crackles, the chemistry between Nimoy and Linville is palpable, and Shatner makes a convincing Romulan.  I'm even getting used to Scotty's new hairdo.  But the flag-waving has not been so blatant since "The Omega Glory".  Juxtaposed with the nauseating Nixon ad that aired halfway through, lambasting American policy in Vietnam and promising "peace with honor", the episode just didn't sit well with me.

Four stars.  Just have your Maalox tablets handy.

The Lady IS the Tiger


by Janice L. Newman

I’ll admit, when I watched The Enterprise Incident the other night, at first I was frustrated by the behavior of the Romulan Commander. But upon watching the tape we made of the episode with our trusty “Videocorder”, my feelings changed.

Women have an interesting, inconsistent place in the Star Trek universe. Sometimes they are slaves or seemingly exist only to titillate the male characters, like Shahna or Kara (the dancer from “Wolf in the Fold”). Sometimes they have positions of power and importance, like Uhura, Commissioner Nancy Hedford, or Sylvia. Yet even the women in the latter group often give up their position or power when tempted by romantic love. I originally thought the Romulan Commander fell into this same trap, but upon re-watching the episode, I realized I was wrong.

The Romulan Commander is doing her job.


These boots are made for commanding

When the Enterprise flew into the neutral zone, what a plum it must have seemed had fallen into their lap. After the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ response from “The Deadly Years”, perhaps the Romulans re-evaluated their policy for when a ship like the Enterprise strayed into their territory. Or perhaps this particular commander was just especially ambitious. Regardless, rather than immediately blowing up the ship, she looked for a way to capture it and its wealth of intelligence. Knowing that the crew would surely self-destruct rather than let themselves be taken, she sought a crack in their armor that she could exploit.

Her interest in Spock thus becomes a rational, considered strategy rather than that of a woman letting her heart overrule her mind. She is believably attracted to him, but she is also doing her duty. If she can ‘turn’ Spock, and if he then orders the crew to surrender rather than self-destructing, not only will she win the starship, but the cooperation of a high-ranking Starfleet officer.

Perhaps her reach exceeds her grasp. Perhaps she is too greedy. With the benefit of hindsight and inside knowledge of Kirk’s and Spock’s personalities, it’s easy to be judgemental and say, “She should have just blown up the ship,” or “She should have known better.” But these are still better than, “She should have been thinking with her head rather than her heart.”

When her actions are viewed as those of an ambitious Romulan Commander who wants to get ahead and who is loyal to her people, they make perfect sense. After all, how many times has Captain Kirk used seduction to manipulate women and get what he wants? Can we blame the Romulan Commander for taking a gamble and trying the same? She may have lost, but I can’t help but respect her for trying.

I also appreciated Spock’s acknowledgement that no other outcome was possible, because she would not have truly respected him if he’d made such a choice. No matter how attracted to him she might have been, in the end she would merely have been using him, and they both know it. If there were any doubts that she was seducing him for political more than personal reasons, this line lays them to rest.

Three and a half stars.

The bounty


by Mx. Blue Cathey-Thiele

Two officers beam onto a ship. The captain is confident and capable, skilled at manipulation, and fools even the audience. One provides a distraction and the other collects a valuable asset in a dangerous gamble.

No, I don't mean Kirk stealing the cloaking device.

It was a neat trick and one that allowed the Enterprise to escape without a trace, but I would argue that it was not the actual mission goal, or at least, not the only mission goal. As Kirk and Spock went up against the Commander – who could serve as the Romulan answer to Captain Kirk – this was yet another layer of the ruse. Romulan technology is advanced, but what is more powerful? Knowledge.

It was only in "Balance of Terror" that Romulans were even seen for the first time in a century. Additionally, Starfleet intelligence had already told some of the Bridge crew that Romulans were now using Klingon ship design. Between a cloaking device and the weapons capability to obliterate entire outposts, why switch to a design that the Fleet is not only more familiar with but has dealt with more often? The Enterprise could be destroyed before they ever make contact with a ship past the Neutral Zone. An alliance with the Klingons could change the terms of the Organian peace treaty. Klingon/Federation battles may not be possible but bringing in allies might circumnavigate the way the Organians neutralized fighting capabilities. Finding a way to disrupt a power consolidation such as that seems a far more compelling reason to risk losing the Enterprise or potentially igniting a new conflict with the Romulans.


Spock obtains the real prize of the expedition

With Kirk "dead" and the more immediate threat "discovered", Spock was free to act. He and the Commander shared cultural information, confirming aspects of what the species knew of each other. He also had time to observe Romulan command structure, the quarters of the Commander, and possibly even collect information from her mind. This would be a gamble, as they share distant ancestry and Spock can be vulnerable when connecting with another mind, but not inherently riskier than the plan for Kirk.

Whether they escape with the cloaking device or intelligence, Starfleet gains something to use.

5 stars

Mission: Possible


by Joe Reid

In his letter to the Corinthians, Saint Paul says, “…I am made all things to all men, that I by all means save some.” This episode, “The Enterprise Incident”, epitomized becoming many things to a varied audience.  This episode skillfully blended multiple themes and genres into a cohesive quilt that when looked at from a distance you realize isn’t a quilt at all.  It is a beautiful tapestry, a singular thing that through different sets of eyes will reveal itself differently. 

In the past I complained about episodes that attempted to do too many things in one airing: “The Gamesters of Triskelion” comes to mind.  The different themes in that episode were not blended, to the point of being jarring.  “The Enterprise Incident” presents a military thriller, a heist story, a secret agent tale, a romance, and a science fiction story all rolled into one.  This unified, multifaceted story is not the only reason that I loved this episode.  Here are some other reasons:

It didn’t go out of the way to tell the audience what was happening.  The events told the story.  There was no long explanation from Captain Kirk as to what was happening.  We were given no reason why Romulans were flying Klingon ships.  There was no discussion as to why the commander of the Romulans was female and whether that was common.  The audience was given no revelation as to whether or not Romulan commander had feelings for Spock or if she was simply tricking him.  In this episode things were what they were, and it was up to the audience to make sense of the event for themselves.  An intelligent tale for intelligent viewers.


Even Subcommander Tal is impressed

Another reason to love this episode is because of the amount of respect that was given to the Romulans.  There were not overtly evil, mustache twirling, or stupid enemies in this episode.  The Romulans made no logical missteps in the episode.  Their actions were based on information that they verified.  The Romulan commander didn’t take it for granted that Kirk lost his sanity, she allowed the information to be verified by both Spock and Bones before believing it.  The Romulans monitored transmissions from their own ship and acted when they discovered alien/human signals.  They remained vigilant and intelligent in every scene.  Spock and the others didn’t defeat the Romulans, they simply outmaneuvered them by being slightly more clever in the way they responded to the information that each person had at the time.  Outside of Kirk faking his death, no one was even killed in this episode, which for Star Trek is rare.

Seeing what came before it, I would have thought it impossible for Star Trek to tell a unique and novel multifaceted story, representing so many things to so many people, without speaking down to the audience.  I’m happy to say that they successfully completed the mission in more ways than one.  For that I am grateful.

Five stars




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

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

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


by Janice L. Newman

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

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

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

In a word, no.

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


Kirk's brain doesn't pass muster…

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

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

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

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


Own your own clockwork Spock!

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


Spock's brain after getting the Sargon treatment

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Two stars.

A Sow's Ear from a Silk Purse


by Amber Dubin

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

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


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

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

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

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


"How about some lessons in healthy sexual relations?"

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

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

Three stars.

The Mental Divide


by Joe Reid

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

Four stars

Third Season Drinking Game


by Erica Frank

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anything but Star Trek


by Lorelei Marcus

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

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

Except, apparently, Star Trek.

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

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


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

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

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

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

Three stars

Minority Report


by Gideon Marcus

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

3.5 stars




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TV

[June 4, 1968] (Doctor Who: The Wheel In Space [Part Two])

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By Jessica Holmes

Here we are at the end of another serial and another series of Doctor Who. For sure, it’s had its ups and downs, but does the series end on a high note? Let’s look at the ending of Doctor Who: The Wheel In Space.

EPISODE FOUR

With the astronauts mind controlled, the next stage of the Cybermen’s operation can go ahead. Inadvertently helping them is Jarvis, whose reluctance to listen to reason has turned into pathological denial. Even when confronted with incontrovertible evidence of the threat, he simply refuses to see it. This comes in handy when the Cybermen try to Trojan-horse their way aboard the Wheel in a crate of bernalium.

When things immediately start going very badly aboard the Wheel he sinks into a catatonic state and ceases to have any bearing on the plot, leaving it to Corwyn to pick up the slack. She has the good sense to listen to the Doctor when he suggests putting up a force-field around the operations room to protect it from the Cybermen.

The Cybermen waste little time killing some of the crew and mind-controlling others. They take over the workshop and see to it that the engineers restore the laser to full working order, before ordering one of them to go up to the operations room, infiltrate it, and wreck the outbound communications equipment—killing himself in the process.

Zoe, meanwhile, realises that the meteorite storm will hit them sooner than anticipated, reporting to Corwyn in her usual matter-of-fact manner. Corwyn questions her on her seeming coldness, but it seems it’s really just a case of a miscommunication. Zoe was trained to prioritise the cold hard facts of a situation over her emotional reaction to it. For space exploration it makes perfect sense. You want someone who can work the problem, not someone who runs around like a headless chicken the moment things go wrong.

There’s a parallel being drawn here between Zoe, who has had the emotions trained out of her, and the Cybermen, who have had theirs programmed out. Unfortunately the serial doesn’t really do anything with it. As of the end of the serial, her rationality has been neither a help nor a hindrance. It’s just a trait that people around her are treating as inherently bad. So, she’s a little different. So what?

Upon learning that the astronauts have brought a cache of bernalium back to the Wheel, the Doctor is quick to realise that the Cybermen are on board the station. It’s too late for the chaps down in the workshop, but as for the others the Doctor gets everyone to make small shields to wear on the back of the neck. They’ll block the mind control waves.

I’m not entirely clear on why they had to go and check that yes, the Cybermen did indeed come aboard in the bernalium crate, but the Doctor and Jamie head down to the cargo bay all the same. They find the false-bottomed crate the Cybermen smuggled themselves in. And then they hear the heavy footsteps of an approaching Cyberman…

EPISODE FIVE

The handy thing about not being able to move their necks is that this generation of Cybermen are really easy to sneak past. The Doctor and Jamie do just that. They get back to the operations room to discover that the meteorite storm is heading for them a lot faster than previously anticipated.

Fortunately, the Cybermen are kindly supervising the effort to repair the laser. By this point the Doctor is pretty sure that the Cybermen are after something more than destroying the Wheel, but can’t figure out what.

Zoe starts fretting over her lack of ability to think on her feet, feeling rather useless. Her training emphasised rote memorisation of facts and figures over developing critical problem-solving skills; another Cybermen parallel, and this one feels deserved. This whole time, the Cybermen we see on screen haven’t actually been coming up with their own plans. They aren’t programmed for that. A Cyber-Planner has been feeding them instructions.

This is a pretty interesting facet of the Cybermen, this emphasis on conformity and following orders. They don’t seem capable of creative thought. In a way it serves as a strength, enabling them to cooperate without butting heads over differing opinions or succumbing to infighting. On the other hand, it’s probably also their greatest weakness, and the thing that lets the Doctor defeat them time and time again. It’s pretty troubling to think that apparently back on Earth, young minds are being trained to behave in this way. What kind of society does Zoe come from?

The Doctor has an idea for stopping the Cybermen, but he needs the Time Vector Generator, which he seems to have dropped at some point. Jamie is going to have to go back to the rocket ship with Zoe in order to fetch it. I don’t know, has he tried having a rummage through the lost and found?

With the laser back in working order, the Cybermen have no further need for the station’s crew. Well, except for a stooge, whom they order to poison the ship’s oxygen supply. However, Corwyn happens to be in the right place at the right time to overhear them, and she uses the video comms to warn the Doctor. Sadly for Corwyn, the Cybermen catch her, and the Doctor gets a front-row seat to her death.

EPISODE SIX

Despite the kids still being out in the vacuum of space, the Wheel goes ahead and starts blasting away the incoming asteroids. The Doctor is of course horrified, but as one of the crew points out, he’s the one who sent Jamie out there. Luckily, they only hit the space rocks and not our favourite Scot.

The Doctor informs the crew about Corwyn and warns them to swap to the backup oxygen supply, thwarting the Cybermen’s plans.

Oh, and Jarvis is dead. He decided to go walkabout and walked right into a Cyberman.

With their plot gone to pot, the Cybermen realise that someone on the station must have advance knowledge of their methods, and start investigating the personnel on board the station. They soon know the source of their difficulties: the Doctor. They need to deal with him.

But they’ll need to lure him out first. They have a mind-controlled minion give the operations room a call. He claims that he’s managed to trap the Cybermen in the workshop and is heading up to the operations room. This will give the Doctor the opening he needs to fetch the spare radio components from storage so as to repair the Wheel’s outgoing communications.

Yes, the plots in this serial are rather convoluted, aren’t they?

Jamie and Zoe overhear this from the control room of the wheel, which for some reason is still receiving communications from the Cyber Planner. Don’t they know you should turn off your appliances before heading out? Going to have an electrical fire if you’re not careful.

However, the Doctor is a smart cookie, noticing the stooge’s monotone delivery and dead-behind-the-eyes expression, and warns the others to grab him when he gets to the forcefield and put a shield on him. At least someone’s paying attention.

The Doctor makes it down to the storage room all right, and finds some convenient mercury for the TARDIS before grabbing some equipment for his plan. He had better hurry. Another ship has appeared: a massive Cyberman invasion ship carrying a fleet of smaller vessels.

Jamie and Zoe return to the Wheel, coming across Corwyn’s body on their way back to the operations room.

The Doctor gets in contact with the crew, very relieved to see that Jamie is alive and well. Mostly because he likes Jamie, but also because Jamie has the TVG and the Doctor really needs it right now.

While Jamie heads down to meet the Doctor, the Cybermen pay a visit to their old friend.

The Doctor greets his guests quite civilly, and over the course of the conversation pieces together the entirety of the Cybermen’s plan.

Are you ready? Here we go.

Step One: Commandeer a rocket ship, set it adrift, use it to deliver cybermats to the Wheel, wait while they destroy the Wheel’s laser and bernalium supply. Get lucky when Jamie wrecks the laser for you.

Step Two: Blow up a distant star to create a tsunami of asteroids, despite the fact that space is definitely far, far too big for this to actually work. (If you have the technology to blow up a star, why in the world are you bothering with all this other faff?)

Step Three: Assume that rather than evacuate, the crew of the wheel will recklessly board your rocketship to look for bernalium to repair their laser.

Step Four: Smuggle yourselves on board in a crate, then hypnotise some crew to repair the laser so that the Wheel doesn’t actually get destroyed.

Step Five: Hypnotise one guy into destroying the Wheel’s outbound communications. He did it in a pretty haphazard way, so you’re lucky that the inbound comms still work.

Step Six: Kill the crew via a method that is quite easily averted by switching to the supplementary oxygen supply.

All this, so that the incoming invasion fleet can follow the radio signals from Earth, without which they can’t enter Earth’s atmosphere for…reasons. You mean to tell me that these supposedly ‘superior’ beings somehow have the ability to blow up distant stars but can’t calculate their own orbital trajectories and re-entry angles? We have people on Earth right now who can do that by hand!

So yes, this excessively convoluted plan serves more or less to turn the Wheel into a big signpost so the invasion fleet doesn't get lost.

Still, Troughton is really great in this scene. I love when he gets to come face to face with a villain. He has this air of being scared but trying very hard not to show it, with a slightly trickster-ish undercurrent of having a card hidden up his sleeve. The scripts may disappoint me, but Troughton never does.

And the Doctor does indeed have a trick up his sleeve, as he invites the Cybermen to destroy him…only to activate a trap. The first Cyberman steps right into an energy field, electrocuting it. The other stays back, but cannot get near the Doctor, and so leaves to await reinforcements. It’s the best bit of the serial.

Jamie then arrives with the TVG, and the Doctor can finally save the day. He plugs it into the ship’s laser in order to amplify the beam from the TVG, while Jamie goes to head off the incoming army of Cybermen approaching the cargo bay. He subdues the one Cyberman still on board with quick-set plastic, but the others are attempting to breach the cargo bay doors.

The Doctor finishes augmenting the laser, which fires on the Cybermen’s ship, blasting it to smithereens. As for the invading Cybermen, the crew of the Wheel activate a forcefield, repelling them from the cargo bay doors and out into the void.

I wonder how long they can survive out there?

Another enemy defeated, the Doctor and Jamie head back to the TARDIS, but they have a stowaway. Zoe wants to go with them. However, the last teenage girl the Doctor took with him ended up traumatised from her experiences. Is Zoe sure she can handle it?

To test her, the Doctor plugs himself into a device that displays his memories on a screen. He decides to start by showing her the Daleks…


Final Thoughts

Dear, dear, dear. This is not the ending I hoped for for this episode, nor for the current series as a whole. It’s proved to be a prime example of the mortal sins that have plagued this serial: it is badly paced, uninspired, and frankly boring. It doesn’t even use the Cybermen to their full potential, instead flattening them down into generic alien invaders. So, two stars for this one.

Zoe has some potential as a companion, I think. It might be interesting to have a girl around who can keep up with the Doctor’s wits. I like her, at any rate.

Perhaps after a little break the team behind Doctor Who will be able to come up with some fresh stories, but if they can’t, then I have real worries about the longevity of the programme. Doctor Who has a unique opportunity to be potentially unending—as long as there are always new stories to tell.




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[May 12, 1968] Slow And Steady… (Doctor Who: The Wheel In Space [Part One])

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By Jessica Holmes

We approach the end of another series of Doctor Who, and it’s been a bit of a rough one, hasn’t it? Other than the occasional standout, I feel that I’ve ended up finding every other story terribly repetitive. As I began to watch the last serial of the current run, I had hope that my faith in the series would be rewarded. After all, when Doctor Who is good, it’s really, really good, and this latest serial was scripted by David Whittaker (who wrote The Enemy Of The World, possibly my favourite story) based on a story by Kit Pedler (who is to the Cybermen as Terry Nation was to the Daleks). With a writing duo like that, things looked very promising for the serial. Was my faith rewarded? Let’s mull it over as I give you a quick rundown of The Wheel In Space.


EPISODE ONE

With Jamie still a bit sulky over Victoria’s exit from the TARDIS, things go from bad to worse for the lad as the time machine breaks down, leaving him and the Doctor stranded. To be on the safe side until he can get the TARDIS working again, the Doctor removes the doohickey that makes it appear bigger on the inside, the Time Vector Generator. The pair then split to search the rocketship for any crew or mercury for the TARDIS’ battery. They spend the better part of the episode doing this, with a break for lunch. That’s just what the kids want to watch: a couple of blokes operating a vending machine. The scene of them actually obtaining lunch is about as interesting as it sounds, but they do have a nice little discussion on how they think Victoria is getting on back on Earth.

They’re unable to find any mercury for the TARDIS, although the one place they haven’t searched is the rocketship’s control room. Unbeknownst to them, there is a countdown timer in there. But counting down to what? Out of ideas, and having at least confirmed that they’re safe for now, Jamie settles down for a nap.

Yes, it seems the ship is abandoned, drifting aimlessly…just like this serial.

There is however a robot making the rounds, and while the Doctor and Jamie are in the crew cabin, it seals shut their section of the ship.

This serial has slower pacing than 2001 (at least from what I've read), and that’s saying something.

With only a couple minutes left in the episode, something resembling action finally happens. The countdown in the control room hits zero. The ship lurches as it releases a number of silver spheres into space. The jolt  wakes Jamie up and knocks the Doctor over, resulting in a nasty crack on the head. A dazed Doctor uses the Time Vector Generator to unseal the door (it apparently works sort of like a high powered laser beam) and Jamie helps him escape the robot and run back to the cabin, again employing the TVG to see the robot off.

They’re safe for now, but the Doctor passes out from his injury.

Meanwhile, the crew of a nearby space station have discovered the drifting rocket ship. This is the Wheel, so called because it looks a bit like a wagon wheel from above. It’s an Earth vessel, observing deep space phenomena and warning spacecraft of potential hazards. They attempt to get in contact, and as they do so, something hits their outer hull. They don’t realise it yet, but it’s the silver spheres from the rocket ship.

Unable to hail the rocket on the radio, the crew of the Wheel are faced with a choice: should they leave the ship be, or blow it up on the off-chance that its autopilot is still active and may drive it into the station?

EPISODE TWO

Fortunately for the Doctor and Jamie, they have the Time Vector Generator, which Jamie flashes out the porthole in an attempt to get the attention of the space station. The Wheel detects the unusual signal, and sends some men over to investigate the rocket, soon finding the Doctor and Jamie and bringing them back to the Wheel.

Now we’re all together, let’s go over the crew of the Wheel. We’ve got Jarvis Bennett (Michael Turner), the station’s controller, who is quite high-strung and prone to stressing out. There’s also Dr. Gemma Corwyn (Anne Ridler), the medic and resident voice of reason, and the astrophysicist-librarian-maths-genius-wunderkind Zoe Heriot (Wendy Padbury). Filling out the cast are a few more or less interchangeable crewmembers of various nationalities portrayed with varying degrees of sensitivity.

Corwyn gives the Doctor and Jamie a thorough medical examination, finding that Jamie is perfectly fine but the Doctor, unsurprisingly, has a concussion.

With how long he’s been unconscious I’m surprised it’s not worse than that.

While the Doctor recovers, Zoe shows Jamie around the Wheeel, and the two don’t exactly hit it off. She laughs at his kilt, and he threatens her with a spanking. She seems quite delighted by the prospect. Make of that what you will.

For her part, though she likes him well enough, Corwyn is suspicious of Jamie’s story. He’s not exactly a good liar. Case in point: when asked, he told her that the Doctor’s name is ‘John Smith’, a name that is somehow conspicuously generic.  Corwyn and Bennett start to suspect that the Doctor and Jamie might be saboteurs. There has been growing opposition to the space program back on Earth.

Zoe and Jamie arrive at the Wheel’s control room just as Bennett is about to go ahead with blowing up the rocketship. Uh-oh, the TARDIS!

Meanwhile aboard said rocketship, the timer begins to count up. There’s something strange in the room, a couple of large…eggs? They begin to glow, and humanoid shapes become visible inside. They stir, and a silver-gloved hand punches its way out of the shell.

Could it be… the Cybermen?

EPISODE THREE

Wanting to delay the destruction of the rocket for obvious reasons, Jamie grabs some conveniently located spray-on quick-set plastic and sabotages the Wheel’s laser-gun. Bennett catches him in the act. Jamie couldn’t have picked a worse time to disable the gun.

Why? Because…well…because of a load of absolute poppycock, even by the lax standards of the programme. A star in the Hercules Cluster is about to go nova, and the radiation flux will fling asteroids and any other space flotsam right at the Wheel.

Science fiction writers, I’ve noticed, often have difficulties with understanding just how big space is. The cluster in question, formally designated Messier 13, is twenty-two thousand light-years away. Assuming the Wheel is situated at the edge of the solar system (its precise location isn’t made explicit, but given its stated purpose as an early warning system, observatory and halfway house for spacecraft heading into deep space, I think that makes the most sense), any nova in Messier 13 would pose about as much threat to it as farting ant in the Sahara.

I’m nit-picking, but only because I’m bored.

Because they don’t have enough problems already, some stowaways have weaseled their way aboard the station. Cybermats! One of the crew encounters one. Thinking it’s some sort of space bug, he hides it in a cupboard. While left to its own devices, it goes ahead and tucks into the entire ship’s stock of the material needed to repair the laser.

Meanwhile, the Cybermen are preparing the next phase of their plan. It seems that (somehow) they triggered the nova, and another that occurred the previous week. They are trying to lure the crew of the Wheel to board their rocket in search of more material with which to repair the laser. Pity they didn’t wake up earlier, they could have saved themselves a bit of bother.

The star in Messier 13 goes nova. As tempted as I am to go off on a tangent about the speed of light, I shall restrain myself and take off my insufferable know-it-all hat.

Zoe cheerfully informs the others of the danger they’re in. She’s not quite as good at tact as she is at reciting facts and figures. ‘All brain and no heart’, as one of the men describes her. Seems a little harsh if you ask me.

One of the hapless crew runs afoul of a swarm of cybermats. He doesn’t appear to have twigged that these things are about the size of a football. Just punt them! He encases one of them in quick-set plastic, but the others overwhelm and kill him in a spectacle of truly glorious over-acting. Poor fellow, choked to death on all that scenery he chewed.

Corwyn finds his body, though by then the cybermats have fled. She presents the encased cybermat to the Doctor, who x-rays it and discovers the true nature of the threat to the station.

Alas, it’s too late. A pair of men from the Wheel have already arrived on the rocket. They immediately run into the Cybermen, who swiftly bring them under the influence of a mind-control ray. Their first command? To take the Cybermen to the Wheel.

Final Thoughts

Doctor Who is a teatime show, but I almost nodded off a couple of times while watching the first couple of episodes. I’m genuinely surprised by this, given the track record of the writers and how much I usually enjoy the Cybermen. There’s just so much padding! The whole thing drags terribly, turning any potential for suspense into a slog.

The Cybermen themselves have had another design update. They're mostly the same as their previous appearance, but have now got a little notch at the corner of each eye that looks a bit like a teardrop, as well as a notch at the bottom of the mouth slit. I don't know, i think the entirely utilitarian, featureless design of the previous iterations was creepier. The mouth notch just looks a bit awkward.

Will the later half of the serial improve on things? Perhaps, now that the antagonists have deigned to show up.

We will have to wait and see.




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TV

[May 4, 1968] Hooray for Mr. Rogers & Rowan & Martin (TV Reviews)

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by Victoria Lucas

Those of you who have followed the" adventures of Mel and Vicki" may remember that my man Mel and I–in a brief time–moved from San Francisco to New York, spending 3 months there, then moved back to the Bay Area, to Berkeley. We enrolled our relative in Berkeley High School, from which he is graduating. In my last missive, I recounted a short tale of why we were about to leave Berkeley following the terrible assassination of Dr. King, hoping to leave behind the physical violence and violent rhetoric that seemed to be taking over the community we had known as peaceful.


Fortuna, California

I am writing to you from a small town north of San Francisco called Fortuna ("fortune" or "good luck" in Spanish), where Mel and I are working as "temps" (temporary workers) for the County of Humboldt while we look for a home to buy with the proceeds of the house belonging to my mother, who died in late 1966. Our relative did not yield to persuasion but is insisting on staying in Berkeley following graduation, living with friends.

All that is background for my reviews today of 2 television shows that I probably would not have seen in either Berkeley or New York because I wouldn't have known about them. I recommend to you "Misterogers' Neighborhood" and "Laugh-In," the first a public-television offering, and the other a crass, commercial (and extremely funny) show.


Fred Rogers

"Misterogers Neighborhood" is a children's show. Although Mel and I have no children (together), we have friends here who do. We have no television either, but I happened to be at one place with kids one day when they were plopped on the floor in front of the TV watching a man whose real name is Fred Rogers, talking slowly and introducing them to what I learned are stable personalities on his show, including puppets he voices and actors who speak for themselves.


Trolley to Make Believe

Some actors and puppets portray personalities in a carefully separated make-believe area accessible via a trolley car. Once the trolley has reached the make-believe kingdom, Rogers disappears except for his voices for the puppets, and the puppets and an actor take over. I say "carefully separated," because this is deliberate: Rogers wants the children who watch his show to clearly see and understand the difference between make-believe and real. In the "real" part of the show, for instance, an actor portrays a postman who not only delivers "mail" but interacts with Rogers about real things.

The show I happened to catch was pretty mundane, but our friends told us about the first show on February 19, the very first by Rogers to be broadcast nationally on NET (National Education Television). It involved a protest against war, unlike the ones in which Mel and I and our friends had been involved in both Berkeley and New York, and held in the land of make-believe, but an antiwar protest, nevertheless.


King Friday XIII

In the land of make-believe reigns a puppet king, King Friday XIII. This king becomes a despot and tries to suppress all differences of opinion while he makes war on progress. The inhabitants of the "land" object and send balloons to the castle tied to messages of love and peace. King Friday immediately capitulates and declares the war over.

May I remind you that this is a children's show?

Live, from beautiful downtown Burbank…


Dan Rowan

The war also is definitely more than mentioned in another show I found out about in a whole different way. With no TV to watch in the evening, my FM radio found a place of honor in our tiny living room. Spinning the dial one night I found laughter. Needing some of that, I listened while relaxing in what has become my bed for probably the duration of our stay in Fortuna–an easy chair in which I have to sleep sitting up due to my asthma (an allergy to redwood sawdust).

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that what I was listening to is a television show called "Laugh-In" starring comedians Dan Rowan and Dick Martin, who mock the president, the generals, politicians, and others who support the war in Vietnam. They are assisted in their madness by Henry Gibson, Arte Johnson, Judy Carne, Gary Owens, Ruth Buzzi, Joanne Worley, Goldie Hawn, and many more. My husband Mel is an engineer and wasn't surprised at all, knowing as he does the electromagnetic spectrum in which "radio waves" lie. FM radio signals overlap with the part of the spectrum in which television operates. Local channel 6 is FM 87.9!


Dick Martin and friend…

Imagine also that I have to imagine all the sight gags. If you've seen the show you know there are a lot of them, but I know about them only from the silences followed by laughter. I only hope that someday I can actually see the show and enjoy the physical humor as well as the spoken jibes.


I'm sure it'd be "Very Interesting"

"Laugh-In" is funny, irreverent, and up-to-the-minute. I hope it survives many seasons and maybe even has some real-world effects. If I were handing out stars, I would give both these shows 5 out of 5. They are the most progressive shows I have (not seen, um . . . ) experienced on television!

Bye for now, and happy watching!


This article was pre-recorded so the writer could tune in to Laugh-In…




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 22, 1968] Bored Of The Rigs (Doctor Who: Fury From The Deep [Part 2])

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By Jessica Holmes

I am poorly, I am tired, and to add insult to injury, I had to review this dreary serial. I’m going to chug some cough syrup, and then we’ll take a look at the latter half of the latest Doctor Who serial, Fury From The Deep.

EPISODE FOUR

As the seaweed of doom continues to take down gas rigs, Victoria starts fretting. She’s starting to get sick of constantly getting dragged into dangerous situations. This is going to come up a lot over the latter half of the serial, and to be honest the scenes get a bit repetitive. It’s basically the same thing over and over: Victoria says she’s scared all the time, Jamie asks if she’s happy, she says she doesn’t know. It never goes any deeper or takes a different angle. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Meanwhile, Harris continues to search for his wife, and finds Robson alone on the beach. When asked where Maggie is, Robson cryptically assures Harris that he’ll find her soon. If you were expecting anything interesting to happen after the walking-into-the-sea incident, you will be sorely disappointed. Maggie Harris doesn’t show up again for the rest of the serial except for a very brief appearance at the end. Her involvement in the story dissolves like so much seafoam.

Speaking of characters disappearing from the story, Van Lutyens also makes an abrupt exit after going down into the impeller shaft to check for a blockage. Something pulls him into the foam, and he vanishes, never to be seen again. We’re later told that he isn’t dead, but his part in the story is cut short.

However, the moment he leaves, someone else shows up, because this story has found itself short one Outside Authority Figure. The new Outside Authority Figure is Robson’s boss, Megan Jones (Margaret John). I do rather like her, she’s quite no-nonsense but willing to listen to people. That said, Harris’ story of aggressive parasitic seaweed is a bit hard to swallow, so she authorises him to send out some helicopters to survey the rigs to verify his story.

While she’s discussing matters with Harris, the Doctor and Jamie are down in the impeller shaft looking for Van Lutyens, leaving Victoria alone with Oak and Quill. It may surprise you to know that she promptly gets kidnapped. I know. I’m shocked. Jamie finds her soon enough, and he fusses over her in a way that I find quite sweet.

The helicopter pilots sent by Jones to survey the rigs report back that the unresponsive sites are covered in seaweed. Harris’ proposed solution is to evacuate the remaining rigs and then reduce the whole complex to rubble.

As if summoned by the talk of potential harm to his precious rigs, Robson shows up to yell at everyone for even thinking about it, then storms off again just as abruptly. Having seen his odd behaviour for herself, Jones is now willing to entertain the Doctor’s theory that he’s being controlled somehow. He doesn’t believe that the weed itself is intelligent; rather it’s a plant simply doing what plants do: growing. However, it does have the ability to parasitise sentient beings who will then work in the best interests of the weed. It’s not explained very well, but I think this is what is happening. There is a kind of fungus that does a similar thing to ants.

Another rig falls to the weed, and now it’s the base’s turn to fall. There’s foam coming up the pipeline, and the weed is trying to break through. As the Doctor says, the battle of the giants has begun.

Wait.

What in the world is that even supposed to mean?

EPISODE FIVE

Luckily for Robson and his life’s work, the Doctor doesn’t believe that simply blowing up the rigs will be sufficient to destroy the weed. However, he does have another thought. Remembering how earlier Victoria came under attack in the oxygen stores by a man in a gas mask (to be honest I had forgotten that detail but in fairness to me I’m sick), the Doctor theorises that pure oxygen is toxic to the weed. They have a way to stop it!

Or rather, they did have a way to stop it. Having overheard the Doctor quite loudly explain his theory, Oak and Quill nip the oxygen problem in the bud by stealing all the canisters. Well, we can’t make it too easy for the Doctor. It’s only the fifth episode.

With Robson in his quarters under surveillance (for now) and Van Lutyens nowhere to be found, the Doctor realises that there must be some other agent of the weed present on the base. Fearing discovery, Oak and Quill immediately make a break for it. Jamie catches Quill, however. He feels quite pleased with himself, but the Doctor isn’t sure it’s the old McCrimmon punch that did the trick. Before he gets a chance to elaborate, the Chief Engineer calls everyone back to the impeller room. The weed is trying to break out.

Speaking of breaking out, Robson is no longer in his quarters, having subdued his guard with the power of his bad breath. Everyone’s too transfixed by the weed to notice him sneaking in the back of the impeller room and absconding with Victoria when nobody’s looking. Poor Victoria. Someone needs to get her some self defence lessons.

Robson boards a helicopter with Victoria, and eventually the Doctor realises his ward is missing. It doesn’t take him long to work out that she’s with Robson, and thanks to the base’s surveillance it’s not hard to find Robson’s helicopter and hail him on the radio. Victoria is once again a bargaining chip. If the Doctor offers himself up to the weed, Robson will let her go.

Taking another helicopter, the Doctor and Jamie head out to the rig complex, where they find one of the towers covered in a particularly large amount of foam. This is the nerve centre of the weed. Within the tower is even more foam and a rather sudded-up Robson.

I’m sorry, is that meant to be scary? It just looks like he’s been messing around in a bubble bath. Move over, Daleks. Doctor Who has a new recurring enemy: Fairy Liquid!

EPISODE SIX

As is typical for Doctor Who, the baddie of the month wants the Doctor’s assistance in its evil plan for matter to conquer mind. The Doctor protests that such a thing is against the laws of nature, but I can think of a few kinds of other ‘vegetable matter’ that have some very interesting effects on the mind.

Luckily for everyone present (except poor me, and my eardrums) Victoria has got an impressively loud set of vocal cords. The piercing sound of her screams is sufficient to incapacitate Robson, giving them the opportunity to escape.

Unfortunately, the Doctor can’t seem to flag down the pilot of the helicopter he arrived in, so rather than waiting a couple of minutes he settles for the next best thing: taking Robson’s chopper for a whirl.

The Doctor does not know how to fly a helicopter, but try telling him that.

Did you know that helicopters can do a loop-de-loop?

I do now.

This is quite a drawn out sequence. Clearly it cost the BBC quite a bit to hire the helicopter and stunt pilot and they were damned if they were going to leave a single second of footage on the cutting room floor.

By some stroke of fortune he makes it back to the base and lands the helicopter safely. However, the base is running out of time, and there’s still no way to defeat the weed. Or is there?

On their way back to Harris and Jones, the trio pass the medical centre, where they learn that Quill has made a full recovery from his weed problem. But what killed it off? Victoria, of course. Specifically, the fact that she screams at a specific frequency that is apparently deadly to the weed.

If they can harness the sound of Victoria’s screams, they can use her as a sort of sonic weapon. Well, her propensity for wailing like a banshee had to come in useful eventually. I’m sure she used to be good for more than just screaming and getting captured, but there you go. That’s Victoria in a nutshell: the one who screams a lot.

I do find it quite a pity. She had so much potential but lately she has been written as little more than the archetypal damsel in distress. It’s a waste of a perfectly good character, and I find it disappointingly regressive. It is possible, I believe, for a female character to be gentle and feminine without her primary role in the story being to give the men something to rescue from danger.

Daft as it is, the Doctor’s plan works, Victoria’s amplified screams echoing down the pipeline and destroying the weed at the source. With the nerve centre destroyed, everyone who was controlled by the weed returns to normal. Maggie’s fine, Robson’s fine, and even though he remains offscreen, Van Lutyens is tickety-boo too.

All’s well that ends well. Or is it? In an unusual turn of events, the Doctor sticks around for the denoument, joining everyone for a meal at the Harris’ house. It’s not him who is reluctant to leave, however; it’s Victoria. Tired of being thrust from one dangerous situation into another, Victoria has finally had enough, and she wants to stay in one place. The Harrises are happy to have her to stay for as long as she likes, but of course staying in one place isn’t really the Doctor’s style. He did promise her father that he’d keep Victoria safe, and now he has an opportunity to actually follow through on that promise. Jamie is concerned for her being alone in a time that isn’t her own, but it’s not like there’s anyone left for her back in the 1860s.

The Doctor and Jamie bid farewell the following morning, and I will say this for the episode: it offers a satisfying companion departure, which is not a given for Doctor Who. Remember when Dodo literally just vanished offscreen mid-serial and went home without as much as a toodle-oo?

The Doctor’s a little sad to see her go, but poor Jamie really struggles with Victoria’s decision to leave. I always did suspect that he might have had a soft spot for sweet Victoria.

Final Thoughts

I suppose it is quite interesting that immediately after facing an enemy of pure consciousness, the Doctor’s next fight is against an enemy with no consciousness of its own except that which it steals from others. Unfortunately, the weed feels nowhere near as menacing as the GI. It does have its moments from time to time (like with Oak and Quill), but much of the time the story asks the audience to try being scared of…foam.

Other than a mildly interesting villain concept and a surprisingly well-done companion departure, this story is the television equivalent of a lettuce sandwich. It’s flavourless, unsatisfying, and so dull. It is yet another base under siege, and not a very good one.

And what is there left to say about the base under siege plot that has not been said already? It’s formulaic, repetitive, has a tendency to go round in circles, and it’s repetitive. At the risk of repetition…I’ll leave it there.

2.5 out of 5 stars for Fury From The Deep.




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