Stardate: 2821.5
Aboard
the U.S.S. Enterprise is Galactic High Commissioner Ferris (John Crawford), a
dignitary who is being transported, along with medicine, to Makus III. There, a
terrible plague has broken out in the New Paris Colony.
En
route to Makus III, however, the Enterprise encounters the quasar phenomenon
known as Murasaki 312. Captain Kirk has standing orders to investigate all
quasars, no matter the circumstances, and prepares a shuttle mission to do so
over Ferris’s objections. The Enterprise has just two days to learn about the
quasar before the ship must resume course for the plague-ridden planet.
Mr.
Spock (Leonard Nimoy) commands the shuttle mission, and must soon contend with
more than anyone bargained for. The “Murasaki”
effect blinds the shuttle’s instruments -- and the Enterprise too -- and hurls
the Galileo to the inhospitable surface of nearby Taurus II.
There,
on the mist-enshrouded planet, a tribe of hostile, ape-like giants threaten the
shuttle crew, which includes Dr. McCoy (De Forest Kelley), Chief Engineer Scott
(James Doohan), Yeoman Mears (Phyllis Douglas), Lt. Gaetano (Peter Marko) Lt.
Latimer (Rees Vaughn), and Lt. Boma (Don Marshall).
The
humans resist Spock’s attempts to command logically, especially as the situation
grows increasingly deadly, and their numbers begin to die.
Meanwhile,
the Enterprise searches for the missing shuttle, even as Kirk laments that the
search is like “looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Much
like “Balance of Terror,” “The Galileo Seven” seems largely inspired by another production
from film history. In this case, that
film is Five Came Back (1939), the story of a small airliner, the Silver Queen,
which crashes in a South American jungle with nine people aboard.
As
is the case in “The Galileo Seven,” a number of difficult choices must be made
if anyone is to survive the crash in Five Came Back. As
the survivors in the Amazon repair the plane, they must cast off any
unnecessary weight, repair a fuel leak, and contend with hostile natives and
their deadly weaponry).
All three of
these concepts are translated “The Galileo Seven."
The crew removes unnecessary equipment (to
lighten the load for escape velocity), and Scotty drains the crew’s phasers to use as energy after a fuel leak. And, of course, those
giant ape monsters and their over-sized spears substitute for the natives in Five Came
Back.
Intriguingly, Spock's inspiration -- to electrify the shuttle hull and scare off the aliens -- seems piped in from another work of art, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. In that book, by Jules Verne, the Nautilus's hull is similarly electrified, so as to repel attacking cannibals.
But
as was the case in “Balance of Terror,” Star Trek (1966-1969) is not content
merely to emulate. Instead, it utilizes
the outline or structure of Five Came Back (which starred a young Lucille Ball)
to examine more deeply the character of Mr. Spock.
We
are told, explicitly, for example, that this mission represents Mr. Spock’s
first command. Although in “The
Menagerie” we learn that he has been in the service for at least 18 years, this
is apparently Spock's first opportunity to lead a landing party. Naturally, Spock
believes that logic is the basis by which he should lead (and which others should follow), yet must contend with
a boatload of highly-emotional and occasionally down-right insubordinate
humans.
In "The Galileo Seven" Spock serves as the veritable calm in the storm that surrounds those agitated individuals, and one wonders what, exactly they think would be served if he were to join them in their panic and dismay.
In times of a crisis, cool heads -- not panicky, reactive ones -- are what is required, and Spock proves his dignity and intelligence again and again in this episode by not taking the bait
from Boma, Gaetano and even McCoy on several occasions. They are combative, insulting and rude, but he never stops being analytical and decisive.
Therefore, one can see how this episode is really about leadership, and what it takes to lead, inspire, and
save lives in a crisis situation. Spock
proceeds from a brilliant point of view, that “there are always alternatives,”
and then uses logic as long as it seems useful in achieving its ends. When logic is no longer useful, Spock does
what any good leader would: he adapts to the facts on the ground.
In the episode’s final scenes, he determinedly
commits an illogical act, realizing it offers the only possibility of survival
for those wards he commands. Specifically, Spock ignites the remaining fuel, creating a visible distress signal in space. His hope is that the Enterprise will see it...and he is right.
The
line “there are always alternatives” comes back in Star Trek history, after a fashion,
in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982), but as the synonymous “there are
always possibilities” instead.
Another
great line in the episode establishes Spock’s respect for all life, even if it
is openly hostile. “I’m frequently appalled by the low regard you Earthmen have
for life,” he says, and Spock has a point.
The denizens of Taurus II -- as blood-thirsty as they may seem -- are on
their own planet, and it is the crew of the Galileo that comprises the invading
force under these circumstances. These primitive beings don’t act all that differently than we might,
were an alien vessel to land on the surface of Earth, in close proximity to our
homes. The humans aren’t able to contextualize this experience, and thus prove as
vexing to Spock as the ape creatures do. They just want to kill, out of a need to defend themselves. Spock's saner head prevails, though at a cost (especially for Latimer and Gaetano.)
What
I love about Spock is that as an outsider, he can comment on this matter of humanity's low regard for life. At the same time that he is on
humanity’s side, he can point out that our brutal, murderous, fearful impulses
run deep.
Boma and Gaetano are extremely disrespectful and rude to Spock, yet
he still does everything within his means to save their lives, thus actually proving his respect for life. They view him as
callous and disregarding of life, yet the opposite is true. Spock is playing an a whole different level, realizing that he must save his
crew while not attacking or destroying alien life…which abundantly has a right to exist on
its own world.
When
“The Galileo Seven” focuses on Spock, his value system, and his attempt to
better understand what leadership is, the episode really works brilliantly.
By
contrast, the scenes aboard the Enterprise are not nearly so effective or well-wrought.
For
example, Kirk is nasty and mean-spirited to Commissioner Ferris from the first
moment the character appears on the bridge.
And here’s the thing: Ferris is right. Many people are dying in New Paris, and so that is where the captain’s primary responsibility must rest. No matter Kirk’s standing orders regarding quasars, he
makes a mistake putting a scientific study ahead of an emergency.
One must
assume Kirk had some idea that a quasar could result in scrambled scanners and
communications. One must also assume
that Kirk knew he would be working against an extremely tight deadline: just 48
hours.
Also
baffling is the fact that Kirk assigned his first officer, chief medical
officer, and chief engineer to such a dangerous, time-limited mission.
What exactly is Scotty’s purpose in this
investigation? McCoy’s?
Yet
instead of taking responsibility for his choice -- and also decimating his command staff
-- all Kirk does in “The Galileo Seven” is take a piss on Ferris.
Really, given Kirk’s verbal affronts, Ferris
acts with tremendous (and commendable) restraint. Kirk really should be reported to his higher-ups for jeopardizing not
one mission, but two, and then for taking out his anger on the commissioner.
But,
“The Galileo Seven” also sadly includes a not-really-great aspect of Star Trek that
re-appears in the franchise again and again.
What is this trope?
That Starfleet officials (and
particularly diplomats) are viewed as arrogant, know-nothing, power-hungry, and
occasionally corrupt individuals.
These
officers have names like Stocker (“The Deadly Years,”) Fox (“A Taste of
Armageddon,”) Nilz Baris (“The Trouble with Tribbles,”) and Morrow (The Search
for Spock) to name just a few. The overall impression is that only Kirk and
Enterprise crew members know best, and are reacting from honest or pure motives.
It's a little naive.
Outside of that select group of crew-members stands the “the purview
of the diplomats” (to quote The Undiscovered Country), and it is a terrifying
place, apparently.
This cliché of wrong-headed
superiors continues into the era of The Next Generation and Deep Space Nine,
and it’s a bit offensive not because diplomats are always right, but because
these individuals usually appear to create some sort of artificial dramatic
threat or challenge for the main characters and their camaraderie.
It’s easy to create an outsider to do that, instead of having a regular character voicing a provocative view-point. yet it would be wonderful,
too, to show that the wisdom of the Federation and Starfleet extends to those
high-up in hierarchy, as well as those on the front lines of battle/exploration.
Basically,
“The Galileo Seven” has an A story and a B story. The A story is a space-age
Five Came Back and a fascinating exploration of Spock’s ability to lead (and
deal with human prejudice).
The B story on the Enterprise is a time waster that
relies on Kirk making bad decisions, and also on the presence of a character who exists solely to be a
pain in his ass, even though his cause is actually just and worthwhile.
Finally, the episode has an absolutely risible conclusion. Everybody on the Enterprise bridge guffaws -- for an uncomfortably long time -- at Spock's stubbornness, and boy is the scene cringe-inducing. Spock's comments aren't that funny.
And on a realistic basis, should Captain Kirk be encouraging the tormenting and mocking of the dignified Vulcan science officer on the command deck of his starship?
After all, we just saw, on the planet surface, what happens when humans treat this character so informally, and lightly. They are encouraged to be nasty to him, and to question his orders.
One
last observation about "The Galileo Seven:" I like the actress who plays Yeoman Mears, but it is
impossible, again, not to consider how much stronger a show this would be if it
were Grace Lee Whitney’s Yeoman Rand aboard the Galileo with Spock and the
others. Rand is greatly missed
in these shows, and instead we get a rotating list of mostly interchangeable yeoman
(Barrows, Mears, Ross) instead.
Next
week: “The Squire of Gothos.”
John I totally agree with your analysis of "The Galileo Seven". This is one of my favorite episodes of all Star Trek series, like "Balance Of Terror". I always missed Grace Lee Whitney’s Yeoman Rand after she departed the series. All the other Yeoman's were just used to fill the void of a once permanent Grace Lee Whitney’s Yeoman Rand. I agree, she would have made "The Galileo Seven" even more intense with Kirk worrying about her along with the other primary characters of Spock, McCoy and Scotty.
ReplyDeleteAnother reason I loved Star Trek:The Motion Picture in 1979 was seeing Grace Lee Whitney’s Rand back on board the Enterprise.
SGB
John,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this review. Your observations continue to dig deep and explain in straightforward fashion what makes these episodes special, or conversely, what doesn't work. Things I've never even thought of after years of watching them, you effortlessly and carefully examine. It's great.
It's been noted by John Crawford that Shatner really made his experience during filming not very comfortable. Maybe he was method acting? Your review reminded me of this fact, even though most actors had nice things to say about working with The Shat. John Crawford, interestingly, refers to his Lost In Space episode "The Time Merchant" as one of his favorite experiences. I always admired Crawford's range as an actor, even though he is somewhat one-dimensional in "The Galileo Seven."
Steve
I agree with parts of your analysis and not with others, especially the shipboard scenes. The Enterprise is an exploratory vessel, and Kirk, like every captain in Starfleet, must try to fulfill competing orders to humanitarian missions and scientific investigations whenever they crop up. It's worth pointing out that he never attempts to avoid the humanitarian mission or declare Ferris wrong; he just insists on delaying until the last possible instant the departure for the rendezvous point. This is perfectly justified, since Enterprise is destined for a rendezvous with another ship which they can still make at the appointed time even with the delay--they can't meet up with another ship that hasn't arrived at the rendezvous point yet, so leaving earlier is to no advantage. He intends to fulfill his obligation as soon as he must, but no sooner.
ReplyDeleteIt's Ferris who can't seem to wrap his head around this fact, as he needlessly and officiously announces every five damn minutes what everybody already knows! I'd have been tempted to hit him.
Yes, overly officious, annoying bureaucrats and/or semicompetent high commanders are indeed a Star Trek trope, but no more so than on the average police drama. I don't find this particularly irritating because anyone who has served in the military has encountered far more of these types than the law of averages would suggest is possible. In many places, the echelon is filled with people who didn't get promoted on merit and competency, just as many diplomats are appointed as a result of political campaign contributions! If you've ever worked in the trenches for people who are more concerned with ass-covering and flying under the radar so they can never be blamed, you know the type. Many of Star Trek's writers served in WWII/Korea or were close to those who did, including Roddenberry, so this point of view is not surprising to find.
I think Ambassador Fox is redeemed in the end, as once he realizes they're in the kind of trouble he didn't anticipate, he actually pitches in to help and avoids undermining Kirk's creative solution! And Commodore Stocker is not portrayed as corrupt or stupid, but merely out of his element as a starbase commander who has never had a field command and doesn't possess the sort of experience needed at a crucial time. Such commanders abound in the services, where people who haven't had a field command in many years, if ever, are thrust into positions of authority the people below them have to bail them out of--often without credit. To his credit, Stocker admits his deficiencies but can't figure out an alternative, but he's not portrayed as a bad guy.
No, I'm much more annoyed by this episodes blatantly insubordinate landing party members, to include McCoy. I think Spock's struggle to identify solutions without being heedless of human needs could have been depicted without that kind of open conflict. My mental canon always has included Boma's reductions in pay and rank for blatant insubordination and defiance of orders, McCoy's official reprimands and restrictions for insubordination and failure to reprimand a junior officer's insubordination, and Kirk letting both of them have it with both barrels in a major-league dressing down.