In the Fifth at Starfleet Towers
May. 26th, 2009 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
altarielSo I went to see Star Trek again. I was worried that second time around it would turn out to be nothing more than a series of things exploding noisily. Having read a few reviews around LJ, I also wondered whether I’d be irritated at how Kirk’s recklessness gets enabled and rewarded by those around him. But I enjoyed it just as much again, probably even more so, given that I wasn’t fending off unwanted attention, and I was able to reflect on the stories being told between the set-pieces.
In the Fifth at Starfleet Towers
On a panel about the future of Trek at Eastercon 2008, we discussed how the franchise was going to have to nurture a new generation of fans if it was going to survive. Well those clever chaps over in Hollywood were clearly there before us: look how young they all are! Are you OLD enough to be driving that spaceship!? Star Trek is a rites-of-passage film, a story about moving from childhood constraint to adult recognition. As I rewatched, I found myself thinking of the useful distinction that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fjm draws when discussing children’s literature between the SF juvenile (at its peak during the period 1950-1970, and concerned with entering an adult world understood in part as the world of work) and the YA novel (which dominates children's literature from 1970 onwards, and is concerned with an adult world defined primarily in terms of relationships). I think Star Trek attempts both.
Older adults are remarkably absent in Star Trek (is there really nobody else on the Enterprise to promote to first officer?!). Kirk and Spock both lose a parent on screen (losses which are symbolically significant to their individual emotional narratives); Pike is removed from the action. The youthfulness of Chekov is remarked upon. Scotty and McCoy are slightly older than their colleagues, but both are in the position of having to start again. The new crew of the Enterprise – the Academy’s finest – must prove their competence in a real situation, outside of the artificial environment of the Academy, and its controlled (and easily cheated) tests. They are justifying being handed the keys to the car. (Much like JJ Abrams: perhaps we can read this extra-diagetically as well.) In the course of the adventure, they make mistakes (leaving the hand brake on) and they have successes (those fencing lessons turn out useful after all). They put their training into practice, and they come good.
Do I think that this is part of a fetishization of youth in a culture neurotically anxious about death, mortality, physical decay etc. etc.? In this case, no. It strikes me as a new story for Trek: TOS and TNG show us adults working as professional teams; so does DS9, really, although the teams are more fragmented and mutually mistrusting, the adults more fucked-up. (I can’t speak for the other two shows.) One of the narratives that links the TOS films is coming to terms with ageing (particularly Kirk in The Wrath of Khan). Also, there is so much kicking of young people in Western culture at the moment that it’s nice to see a bunch of plucky young things running around trying their level best to be brave and clever.
This burgeoning professional competence (and therefore the desired recognition) is achieved, in part, through growing emotional competence. This is why I finally decided that Kirk’s recklessness and cockiness are not what is rewarded at the end of the film; rather they are tempered by the events of the film, and it is this maturation which is rewarded with command of the Enterprise. Kirk’s emotional journey is about learning self-control (a lack symbolized by the early loss of his father, symbol of law and authority). Kirk has to learn not to waste his audacity on crashing cars and cheating in tests, but instead develop the judgement to guide this fearlessness towards making good decisions that result in the best possible outcomes. At the start of the film, young Jim saves himself but crashes the car. At the end of the film, he saves everyone and saves thecar Enterprise too. (Compare with his father, who saves everyone else, but at the cost of both himself and the car.)
Spock, meanwhile, already has substantial professional recognition (‘one of our most distinguished graduates’), but his ability to do his job is compromised by the sudden disappearance of emotional certainty. This is of course symbolized by the loss of Amanda, the mother who has hitherto provided a convenient external locus for Spock’s emotions, thereby arresting their integration into himself. When the separation is forced by Amanda’s death, Spock falls back on a rigid enforcement of authority, but even here his judgement is impaired: in marooning Kirk, he is (as Kirk notes), almost certainly in breach of regulations. Not only is emotion compromised, Spock’s reason is coming under threat. After Kirk forces the crisis, Spock is emotionally secure enough to be able to be publically demonstrative towards Uhura, where before he had been uncertain enough to deny her the deserved posting. (Quinto’s performance is notably gentler after this, almost tender; much more self-deprecating and self-aware.) In contrast to Kirk, Spock has to learn how – and when – to lose self-control.
In many ways, Star Trek reminds me of a boarding school story. The parents are barely present. The teachers are distant figures attempting to guide the gifts and talents of their protégées and occasionally enforcing discipline. Two of the class have been held back in the fifth for a year (McCoy and Scotty). But at the end of the film, everyone has earned the right to progress to the sixth, where Spock will be Head Boy, and Kirk the Captain of Games. Arguably, Star Trek is still mostly about boys. Uhura is fearless and successful in demanding the professional recognition that is her due (transfer to the Enterprise), and assured and wise in her emotional dealings with Spock. Yet we see nothing of her journey towards these adult states. What would this film look like? Star Trek wonders too, when Kirk finds himself eavesdropping on Uhura and Gaila. What do women talk about when they’re on their own? Their jobs and their feelings, apparently, much like everyone else.
In the Fifth at Starfleet Towers
On a panel about the future of Trek at Eastercon 2008, we discussed how the franchise was going to have to nurture a new generation of fans if it was going to survive. Well those clever chaps over in Hollywood were clearly there before us: look how young they all are! Are you OLD enough to be driving that spaceship!? Star Trek is a rites-of-passage film, a story about moving from childhood constraint to adult recognition. As I rewatched, I found myself thinking of the useful distinction that
fjm draws when discussing children’s literature between the SF juvenile (at its peak during the period 1950-1970, and concerned with entering an adult world understood in part as the world of work) and the YA novel (which dominates children's literature from 1970 onwards, and is concerned with an adult world defined primarily in terms of relationships). I think Star Trek attempts both.Older adults are remarkably absent in Star Trek (is there really nobody else on the Enterprise to promote to first officer?!). Kirk and Spock both lose a parent on screen (losses which are symbolically significant to their individual emotional narratives); Pike is removed from the action. The youthfulness of Chekov is remarked upon. Scotty and McCoy are slightly older than their colleagues, but both are in the position of having to start again. The new crew of the Enterprise – the Academy’s finest – must prove their competence in a real situation, outside of the artificial environment of the Academy, and its controlled (and easily cheated) tests. They are justifying being handed the keys to the car. (Much like JJ Abrams: perhaps we can read this extra-diagetically as well.) In the course of the adventure, they make mistakes (leaving the hand brake on) and they have successes (those fencing lessons turn out useful after all). They put their training into practice, and they come good.
Do I think that this is part of a fetishization of youth in a culture neurotically anxious about death, mortality, physical decay etc. etc.? In this case, no. It strikes me as a new story for Trek: TOS and TNG show us adults working as professional teams; so does DS9, really, although the teams are more fragmented and mutually mistrusting, the adults more fucked-up. (I can’t speak for the other two shows.) One of the narratives that links the TOS films is coming to terms with ageing (particularly Kirk in The Wrath of Khan). Also, there is so much kicking of young people in Western culture at the moment that it’s nice to see a bunch of plucky young things running around trying their level best to be brave and clever.
This burgeoning professional competence (and therefore the desired recognition) is achieved, in part, through growing emotional competence. This is why I finally decided that Kirk’s recklessness and cockiness are not what is rewarded at the end of the film; rather they are tempered by the events of the film, and it is this maturation which is rewarded with command of the Enterprise. Kirk’s emotional journey is about learning self-control (a lack symbolized by the early loss of his father, symbol of law and authority). Kirk has to learn not to waste his audacity on crashing cars and cheating in tests, but instead develop the judgement to guide this fearlessness towards making good decisions that result in the best possible outcomes. At the start of the film, young Jim saves himself but crashes the car. At the end of the film, he saves everyone and saves the
Spock, meanwhile, already has substantial professional recognition (‘one of our most distinguished graduates’), but his ability to do his job is compromised by the sudden disappearance of emotional certainty. This is of course symbolized by the loss of Amanda, the mother who has hitherto provided a convenient external locus for Spock’s emotions, thereby arresting their integration into himself. When the separation is forced by Amanda’s death, Spock falls back on a rigid enforcement of authority, but even here his judgement is impaired: in marooning Kirk, he is (as Kirk notes), almost certainly in breach of regulations. Not only is emotion compromised, Spock’s reason is coming under threat. After Kirk forces the crisis, Spock is emotionally secure enough to be able to be publically demonstrative towards Uhura, where before he had been uncertain enough to deny her the deserved posting. (Quinto’s performance is notably gentler after this, almost tender; much more self-deprecating and self-aware.) In contrast to Kirk, Spock has to learn how – and when – to lose self-control.
In many ways, Star Trek reminds me of a boarding school story. The parents are barely present. The teachers are distant figures attempting to guide the gifts and talents of their protégées and occasionally enforcing discipline. Two of the class have been held back in the fifth for a year (McCoy and Scotty). But at the end of the film, everyone has earned the right to progress to the sixth, where Spock will be Head Boy, and Kirk the Captain of Games. Arguably, Star Trek is still mostly about boys. Uhura is fearless and successful in demanding the professional recognition that is her due (transfer to the Enterprise), and assured and wise in her emotional dealings with Spock. Yet we see nothing of her journey towards these adult states. What would this film look like? Star Trek wonders too, when Kirk finds himself eavesdropping on Uhura and Gaila. What do women talk about when they’re on their own? Their jobs and their feelings, apparently, much like everyone else.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 07:44 pm (UTC)In many ways, Star Trek reminds me of a boarding school story.
*hearts and starts pondering Stalky & Co*
The re-gendered casting looks awesome. I'd like to see that film one day - I wonder how long it will take Hollywood to catch up?
no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 08:34 pm (UTC)Someone has done drawings of the regendered crew, based on that publicity still I linked to. Gorgeous.
I wonder how long it will take Hollywood to catch up?
Alas, I cannot see it in my lifetime. But that is OK, because there is the internet to give us the glorious idea, which we can then imagine in full for ourselves.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 09:26 pm (UTC)But that is OK, because there is the internet to give us the glorious idea, which we can then imagine in full for ourselves.
Yes, there is it is and so we have. Hurrah for the Internet and us!
My first viewing included a lot of: "OMG! Spock!" I had totally failed to learn that we were going to get two Spocks. (Three if you count wee Spock as well.) And there was a big wibbly-wobbly thing in space and then a spaceship that looked like a GIANT METAL SQUID! SQUIDS IN SPAAAACE! SQUID SPACESHIPS IN SPAAAAACE!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-26 10:09 pm (UTC)*explodes in pouf of delight!*
And to think I spent money on Terminator when I could've seen Star Trek again
Date: 2009-05-26 11:06 pm (UTC)And oh, oh Uhura! I was so excited by the single trailer line, where she very seriously told Kirk, "I hope you know what you're doing." I was so hopeful that perhaps this exchange indicated some kind of trusted, but no-nonsense relationship, where she actually was a significant force in helping Kirk think through his decisions as commander. Alas, no dice.
But perhaps next time...
Dwim
no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 08:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 03:03 pm (UTC)"BETTER DROWNED THAN DUFFERS. IF NOT DUFFERS WILL NOT DROWN."
Date: 2009-05-27 03:08 pm (UTC)It's so contrived, that you have to see it as wish-fulfilment. Which is fine, lots of children's books spend the first chapter making sure no pesky adults are going to get in the way of the action with reminders of bed-time or how that idea might be a bit dangerous.
I found I had to really work to pull out Uhura's story in a way that I didn't with Kirk and Spock (which was all there on screen). To be fair, I had to work on, e.g., Chekhov's too. I don't think there was much space in the film to do more than establish Kirk and Spock for a new audience. At the same time, it's really noticeable when you gender-flip the casting and see where that takes you.