Cult-TV Movie Review: Spectre (1977)

Paranormal scholar (and egotist) William Sebastian (Robert Culp) summons his old friend, alcoholic physician Dr. “Ham” Hamilton (Gig Young) to help him in his pursuit of knowledge of the supernatural, and in particular, one diabolical case. 

Hamilton’s presence is necessary -- despite a recent falling out between the two men -- because of Sebastian’s unusual physical condition.  His heart has been injured in an occult fashion. A voodoo doll effigy of Sebastian was stabbed with a pin, and now it may be fatal for Sebastian to exert himself physically. 

Unfortunately, Sebastian has not been able to locate the actual doll, and prevent further injury.

After contending with a succubus in his study using The Apocryphal Book of Tobit, Sebastian informs Hamilton that he has had his housekeeper, Lilith (Majel Barrett) cast a spell to rid him of his alcoholic addiction.  Sebastian needs a stable Hamilton on his next investigation, in London.

There, Sebastian plans to help Anitra Cyon (Anne Bell) determine if her brother, Sir Geoffrey (James Villiers) has been influenced by a demonic figure. Not long ago, a Druid tomb was found beneath the family estate. This subterranean Stonehenge, called “The Fire Pit” is believed to possess occult powers.

Sebastian and Hamilton investigate further and discover that a demon of corruption and lust -- Asmodeus -- is indeed using the body of one of the Cyon siblings, but it is not Geoffrey who is possessed, but rather Mitri (John Hurt).

And worse, if Geoffrey fails to act as Asmodeus’s priest, the demon has a replacement in mind: Sebastian.

Spectre (1977) is the late Gene Roddenberry’s (1921-1991) final failed pilot or TV movie of the disco decade.

Previously, the Star Trek creator had attempted to make series from Genesis II (1973), Planet Earth (1974), and The Questor Tapes (1974), all to no avail. Today, I would love it if an enterprising producer resurrected any of these creative genre projects for our twenty-first century era. Each one possesses incredible promise.

Certainly, Spectre’s occult/supernatural approach qualifies it as a proto-X-Files, especially with the focus on partners of opposite temperaments. There is also a Sherlock Holmes and Watson aspect to the central relationship of Sebastian and Hamilton.  Culp and Young possess a nice chemistry with one another here.

Spectre also fits in, generally, with the TV movies of the 70’s, including The Night Stalker (1972), and The Norliss Tapes (1973) in terms of subject matter. The decade saw a continuing fascination with demonology and occult trappings.  But Spectre differentiates itself with the added bonus of Roddenberry’s trademark kinkiness. The TV-movie possesses an undercurrent of sexuality.

Specifically, the TV movie features a scene with a succubus – a “carnal,” minor demon -- who attempts to seduce men to her death.  This is one of the best scenes in the telefilm.

And then Spectre features the (infamous) S&M bondage scene in the second act. To describe the sequence more fully, Ham awakes in bed (in the middle of the night) with a surprise lover, and then is joined by a dominatrix and a young woman who appears to be a school girl. A panel on one wall in the bedroom slides away to reveal a secret shelf of whips and chains. In a very funny scene, Sebastian walks in on the befuddled Ham, as he contends with this sexual surprise.

Additionally, if you catch the European version of Spectre, you’ll also see a lot of female pulchritude and nudity in the closing demon worship sequence. Apparently nudity was added for benefit of strong overseas sales.

The kinky, funny aspects of the tale definitely mark this as a Roddenberry production, but Spectre carries other value as well. The whole subplot involving Sebastian as the victim of an occult attack, involving a voodoo doll, is fascinating, and differentiates this from other programs of the era. Although this was the era of standalone televisions, rather than serials, it is fascinating that Sebastian here boasts this built-in background with the occult that could inform many stories.  I wonder what other dark rituals he explored in his hunt for the truth, before reconnecting with Ham.

Indeed, Sebastian’s back story is fascinating. He is a behavioral scientist who worked with law-enforcement to catch Charles Manson, and mass murderer Richard Speck. He became convinced that logic and science couldn’t adequately explain the “unspeakable” evil of these individuals and begin to investigate the supernatural as a possible reason. In fact, he nearly fell under the thrall of Asmodeus, until his humanity re-asserted itself and he refused to become the thing he hated. Now, apparently, Asmodeus is offering him a second chance to act as his acolyte or priest on Earth.

Would Asmodeus have offered him another chance?  Grounded ever more deeply in demonology, would Sebastian have accepted the offer?

The best parts of Spectre involve character background (Sebastian’s) and the character interaction between the two protagonists. There is a jaunty feel to the TV movie, which distinguishes it from many other occult films of the era.  If Star Trek had gone supernatural -- with its joie de vivre, colorful characters, and occasional tongue in cheek -- we might have gotten a masterpiece here, of supernatural series. 

Instead, we are left with a lot of “what ifs?”  And that’s the “specter” that hangs over this made-for-TV movie (and backdoor pilot) for forty years ago.

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Menagerie" (November 17 and 24, 1966)

Stardate 3012.4

The U.S.S. Enterprise receives a message diverting the vessel to Starbase 11.  There, Commodore Mendez (Malachi Throne) insists that no such message was sent.

Mendez also reports some grave news. Fleet Captain Christopher Pike (Jeffrey Hunter/Sean Kenney) has been badly injured during a rescue attempt aboard a cadet vessel. Although Pike survived the incident, he was exposed to delta rays is now horribly scarred. He is also confined to a life-support chair, and is only able to answer “yes” or “no” through an indicator light. As Dr. McCoy (De Forest Kelley) points out, Pike is as alert as ever, but he is trapped in a convalescing body.

Pike is the former captain of the Enterprise, and was Spock’s (Leonard Nimoy) commanding officer for many years. Accordingly, Mendez suspects that Spock sent the phantom message so he could see his former friend.

The truth is somewhat different.

Spock abducts Pike and hijacks the Enterprise, stranding Captain Kirk (William Shatner) at Starbase 11.  Spock immediately sets a course for Talos IV, a mysterious planet that Starfleet officers are forbidden to have contact with.

Violation of this edit is punishable by the last death penalty on the books.

Kirk pursues the Enterprise in a shuttle-craft, and attempts to stop his apparently-mutinous first officer.  When Spock is held for court-martial, however, exonerating evidence is presented…straight from the mysterious Talos IV.

On a view-screen on the court room, images from nearly two-decades earlier play out. They reveal the details of Captain Pike’s visit to Talos IV, and his strange encounter with the beings there.

Star Trek’s only two-part episode -- the brilliant “The Menagerie” -- began as a production expedient. Because Star Trek was expensive -- not to mention complicated to produce -- there was the ubiquitous worry that deadlines would be missed, and an episode might not make it to air.

The result was a clever re-use of the original pilot, “The Cage,” with new wraparound or bridging material featuring the regular cast, standing sets, and so forth. Few would have imagined, no doubt, that a glorified “clips” story would become one of the most beloved episodes of the series, or for that matter, one of the best Star Treks ever made. Yet that is precisely what happened.

“The Cage” by itself is a clever, intelligent story about mankind’s indomitable nature, and humanity's refusal to give in to emotions or appetites (such as desire) in the face of, essentially slavery. 

But the bridging material included in "The Menagerie" adds so much to the story-line. It is the yin to “The Cage’s” yang.  

If “The Cage” is about the ways that illusions can be a trap (like an addictive “narcotic,” in the words of the teleplay,”) then “The Menagerie” is an even-handed, book-end opposite conclusion.  

Sometimes, perhaps, an illusion can be legitimately, life-saving. Sometimes, it can be a refuge from suffering.

In exploring that idea, “The Menagerie” deepens the character of Spock significantly. Not only because we meet a younger, apparently more impulsive version of him in the material from “The Cage,” but because we come to understand that beneath his cool, glacial exterior, he does feel. He does care.

And the bonds Spock forges with his friends are strong...even unbreakable. Here, he exposes himself to legal jeopardy and possibly death in order to save a friend, Christopher Pike. He acts against regulations, against orders, against prudence, even, to enact a positive outcome for a man whose life has been destroyed.  

The question, of course, is this: are Spock’s decisions based in emotion or in logic?   

I could very well our dispassionate friend explaining the utter illogic of Pike’s continued suffering, as well as the illogic of a zero tolerance policy towards visiting Talos IV.  In this one setting, in this one case, there is only one logical place for the injured Captain Pike -- Spock’s friend to live out the rest of his days. And that place happens to be Talos IV.

Uniquely, the Star Trek movies present a kind of mirror or reflection of this episode's ethos. In Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984), Kirk risks legal jeopardy and death, too, to visit a forbidden planet called Genesis. 

As is the case in “The Menagerie,” he does so to save his friends, both Spock and McCoy. He must alleviate their suffering.  

In both examples, one cannot escape the conclusion that Star Trek has made a judgment on “rules.”  

It is more important to achieve a good (such as saving a friend) than it is to adhere to a policy, rule, or hierarchy. 

When one considers all the occasions in which Kirk chooses “normal human development” over the dogma of General Order One, or the Prime Directive, this philosophical viewpoint becomes even more apparent.  

Rules are good. They give us all guidelines.

Helping people is better.

The original “The Cage” possesses a much more “cerebral” philosophy for certain. Pike’s adventure is not about helping friends, about succumbing to your feelings or even logic.  

Rather, it is about the opposite. It is about how a starship captain, Pike, must remain disciplined in the face of sexual fantasy. 

If Pike succumbs to his appetites, to his sexual desires, he will be responsible for fathering a race of human slaves. The Talosians keep tempting him with those fantasies. They are inventive and relentless in their attempts. For example, they set up a scenario in which he is a knight in a shining armor, protecting a virginal princess from a Kalar barbarian.  Here, he is asked to fulfill his biological male role of protector.

And then the  Talosians tempt Pike again with a scene of domestic bliss.  He is home, safe and well-established. His beautiful wife adores him, and he her. 

And finally, unforgettably, the Talosians tempt Pike with Vina’s (Susan Oliver) final appearance: as a seductive “animal-like” Orion Slave Girl.  Vina's dance is one of the great moments in Star Trek, the promise of alien contact that is dangerous, different and desirable.

I have written here before about the kinky aspects of the original Star Trek, and the way that the later generations prove far more conservative (as a whole) in their approach to sex, and sexual fantasies.  

“The Menagerie” is a prime example of Star Trek getting its kink on.  The ship’s captain is attacked, essentially, with sexual fantasy after sexual fantasy, but he must not crack; must not succumb. 

The underlying theme of “The Cage” aspect of this episode is that appetites and desires must be controlled, lest a negative future be wrought.  Pike can indulge in every fantasy, every kind of sex he can imagine. But in doing so, he risks focusing on the selfish; on the personal, and not seeing the big picture. He would fail to consider the welfare of the human race itself.  It's a classic conflict between desire and morality.

The provocative sexual aspects of "The Menagerie" might be today viewed as somehow sexist by some, especially since female crew-members are referred to at one point as “breeding stock.” 

And yet, at the same time, “The Cage” is amazingly progressive in one very remarkable regard. Number One (Majel Barrett), a competent, highly-accomplished female, is second in command of the Enterprise during Pike’s voyages. 

She is depicted leading a landing team, in command during a strategy briefing aboard ship, and in other situations that demonstrate well her skill, training and judgment.  So of course, the network axe Number One. Who does she think she is?

Alas, there would be no other female character of Number One's ilk in Star Trek until the age of Deep Space Nine. Crusher and Troi on Next Gen were always firmly ensconced in caretaker roles, and Tasha Yar was so underdeveloped that viewers rarely if ever got to see her in a leadership role.

“The Cage” is also forward-thinking in its presentation of Captain Pike.  Although he keeps horses, he is much, much less cowboy-like than is Captain Kirk.  Indeed, Pike seems a more direct antecedent of Jean Luc Picard than he is of James Kirk. Pike is introspective; he is moody. He is reserved…and private.  Thus Pike does not feel like a product of 1960s TV. He is very un-Bond-like and un-cowboy-like at the same time.

“The Cage” also features fewer Western tropes, in general, than we see in many Star Trek episodes of the regular series. It feels ahead of its time, and spectacularly so.

“The Menagerie” is also brilliant in a way that was certainly not intended. 

More than any other episode in the original series, it establishes the reality of the Star Trek universe by granting it…history.  

In this episode we see a future that is twenty-years earlier than Kirk’s time. It is a clunkier time in terms of technology, and appropriately so given the arc of history. There are Flash Gordon ray guns about, goose-neck monitors, and large communicators that have their circuitry visible under transparent materials.  

We see older uniforms, a younger Spock, and more.  We see a starship bridge that is recognizable as such, but clearly of an earlier design.

My point is basically this: Had Star Trek attempted to invent this “earlier” future, it would have cost the series a lot of money, and been been practically impossible to do so. 

But by importing an earlier production into its continuity -- in the form of “The Cage” -- “The Menagerie” presents a whole, incredibly believable, fully-realized three-dimensional “history” to the series we know and love. The differences and similarities in production design make the universe feel as though it is always developing, always in motion.  "The Cage" actually feels like it comes before Star Trek in history.

A critical flaw of Enterprise, I feel, is that it always looked like it came after Star Trek, and so didn't have the right vibe for a prequel.  It didn't feel like history. It looked and felt like something new.

When I finish blogging the first season of Star Trek, I’ll present my list for the ten best episodes of that span, but without giving too much away, “The Menagerie” will certainly make that list.

It dynamically expresses Spock’s under-the-surface humanity at the same time that it grows the universe dramatically, and transmits a message about discipline in the face of temptation.

Next week: “The Conscience of the King”

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Naked Time" (September 29, 1966 )

Stardate 1704.2: The U.S.S. Enterprise (NCC-1701) orbits distant Psi 2000, an ancient world on the verge of breaking up. The crew's mission: to recover the planet-bound science team, and monitor the disintegration of the planet.

Unfortunately, the landing party (consisting of half-Vulcan science officer Spock [Leonard Nimoy] and Joe Tormolen) discovers that the entirety of the science team is dead...and dead under very odd conditions indeed. 

One woman has been strangled. An engineer is dead at his post, frozen to death because life support was de-activated, and another man died in the shower fully-clothed. 

Tormolen unwittingly brings this unique form of "space madness" back to the starship after removing a protective glove (to scratch his nose...), and coming into contact with a contaminated console.

This "disease" spreads rapidly aboard the Enterprise as Captain Kirk and the others see "hidden personality traits forced" into the open among their comrades. 

This symptom means that Mr. Sulu (George Takei) becomes a swashbuckler. 

This means that Nurse Christine Chapel (Majel Barrett) confesses her undying love to Mr. Spock. 

Even the logical Mr. Spock is infected too, lamenting the fact that he could never tell his mother that he loved her. Kirk is not immune, either.  He admits the personal cost he's paid to serve as captain of the Enterprise, not the least of which is his isolation from the men and women he leads.

"No beach to walk on," Kirk muses wistfully.

Soon, events spiral out of control. A contaminated Lt. Kevin Riley commandeers Engineering  and shuts down the engines. This means that as the planet breaks up, the Enterprise can't escape orbit. Scotty (James Doohan) proclaims dramatically that he "can't change the laws of Physics" and re-start the engines cold.   

Things look grim until Kirk snaps Spock out of his crying jag.  Once rational again, Spock realizes that there is a formula for cold engine start up, one that has never been tested.  

In the end, Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley) finds a cure for the disease, and the Enterprise barely escapes Psi 2000 as it cracks up, utilizing a dangerous new intermix formula which generates a time warp. 

"The Naked Time" (By John D.F. Black and directed by Marc Daniels) is not just an exciting Star Trek story from early in the series' historic first season, but the prototype and creative wellspring for much of episodic science fiction television. 

In essence, "The Naked Time" finds a useful plot device -- here an alien molecule/disease that acts on the human blood stream like alcohol intoxication -- by which the writer can excavate the hidden, buried, or repressed facets of the lead characters. This is important because there are things that characters will never realistically reveal to others, all things being equal. 

All things aren't equal, here, however, and the characters reveal new, deeper shades.

Star Trek went back to this "Naked Time" well at least a few times over is three seasons, with variable results. "This Side of Paradise" employs alien spores to give Spock a love story, to great emotional effect. 

Oppositely, the third season's "And the Children Shall Lead" uses Gorgon-powered evil tykes to reveal that Uhura is afraid of aging, and expose Kirk's fear -- again --  of losing command. That episode is generally considered one of the worst of the series


Star Trek: The Next Generation went boldly where the original series had gone before in a story called "The Naked Now" in 1987, which revived the threat (alien disease) to vex the crew of the Enterprise-D.  Ironically, the disease there seemed to reveal less diverse behavior among the crew; basically that all the women on the ship (Crusher, Troi and Yar) were sexually-deprived.  The answer to this deprivation, amazingly, was more suppression.  Captain Picard opined in the episode's coda that they would make a fine crew "if" they could "avoid temptation."

Another facet of "The Naked Time" that bears repeating: technically, it's the first time travel episode on the classic series. 

Spock develops a formula that sends the Enterprise back in time three days, or seventy-one hours.. In the final scene, he says to Kirk that time travel is now longer a theory but a reality. Kirk opens up the door to a whole bunch of stories by replying "we may risk it some day." 

Ironically -- despite the overt set-up here -- follow-up Star Trek time travel stories utilized a different method of time travel all together: a slingshot around the sun at high warp velocities. This technique appeared in "Tomorrow is Yesterday," "Assignment: Earth" and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

Focusing on the episode itself, "The Naked Time" expresses something unique and very individual about the series, and this may element prove the dividing line between adherents and detractors. 

Specifically, all the havoc in the episode commences when Tormolen takes off a glove to scratch his nose, and is contaminated by the infection. Some people will complain about this plot point. They'll ask: how did a man ascend to a position of authority on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, after presumably rigorous training in Starfleet, and then turn around and do something so stupid, so thoughtless, so reckless? I sympathize with those literal-thinkers who have a problem with this. 

However (and this is where I fall on the subject), the glory of the original Star Trek (and one largely sacrificed to catsuits and soap opera plotting in later generations), is the continuing recognition of mankind's foibles. 

Humans do make mistakes from time-to-time, and many stories in the original Star Trek canon are possible only because humans do something wrong, or reckless, or silly. I happen to appreciate this facet of "The Naked Time" and Star Trek. I believe that even when we reach the stars, we'll still be the same flawed creatures we are today. That doesn't make us bad. As Kirk would say, it just makes us human.

What else happens in "The Naked Time"?

Well, Nurse Chapel alludes to some kinky rumors about Vulcans. "The men from Vulcan treat their women...strangely," she muses with a look that suggests she wouldn't mind playing the willing victim if Spock were her victimizer. This is another reason I love the original Star Trek series: it can be downright perverse and kinky.

We learn from Kevin Riley that there's a bowling alley on the Enterprise. That's a little strange. So TV doesn't survive past 2020 in Star Trek, according to "The Big Goodbye," but bowling thrives into the 23rd century?

Nimoy is terrific in this episode. No surprise there. He has good writing on his side, of course, but he brings a lot to the table. I love how Mr. Spock attempts to hold himself together by quoting multiplication tables. There's something very right about that: the logic of Math/Order trying to hold down the chaos of emotional distress. It doesn't work, but it's a noble attempt.

Finally, "The Naked Time" reveals another element of Star Trek that disappeared after this generation: the captain's undying love for his ship. 

"Never lose you," Kirk says here, while under the influence. He's referring to the Enterprise, and talking about her like she's his lover.  His passion for the ship borders on obsession.  In the original series, the Enterprise was a main character, and a love for this particular ship by Kirk and others is an element that informed many of the best stories. 

One might contrast this mad obsession with Captain Picard's blase, rote response at the destruction of the Enterprise D (paraphrased) in Generations: "I'm sure this won't be the last ship to carry the name Enterprise..." 

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: Series Primer

So, who here has never seen Star Trek (1966 – 1969)?

If you are a reader of this blog on any sort of regular basis -- and of my generation, perhaps -- you are likely a regular Star Trek watcher, at least, if not an out-right fan.  I count myself, obviously, as a fan and admirer of the original series, and the entire franchise too.

On September 8, 1966 -- nearly fifty years ago -- Star Trek aired for the first time on NBC-TV (after MGM and CBS passed on the property), and so I will be devoting significant space on the blog throughout 2016 to celebrate this momentous anniversary.

The first question, of course, might be: what is the context that brought Star Trek into the world? 

That tales begins with Gene Roddenberry (1921 – 1999), series creator, producer, writer, and so-called “Great Bird of the Galaxy.” 

To conceive Star Trek, Mr. Roddenberry drew upon a variety of historic literary works, such as those by Jonathan Swift, C.S. Forester and A.E. Van Vogt.   

Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels provided Roddenberry the idea of a two-pronged narrative: one that functioned as adventure first, social commentary second. From Forester’s Hornblower tales, Roddenberry drew his main character: a stalwart (but lonely) captain operating alone on the frontier, commanding respect from both his crew and adversaries.  And Van Vogt’s tales of the spaceship Beagle provided the outer space veneer of Star Trek.

From the film and TV world, Roddenberry drew inspiration from Rocky Jones: Space Ranger (1954), Wagon Train (1957-1965) and Forbidden Planet (1965).

Roddenberry’s unique genius, however, was his addition of new sophistication to these tales of adventure and science fiction, and -- even more than that – his pulling together of all the diverse antecedents under one crucial umbrella of philosophy. 

In particular, Roddenberry imagined man of the 23^rd century as a being who had not only developed interstellar technology (via the warp drive), but had evolved to be less savage, less violent, less argumentative in nature. Humanity had evolved since the 20^th century and was able to face the universe at large not with fear or suspicion, but with curiosity and reason.

Roddenberry did not create Star Trek alone, of course.

A number of talents brought the series to life, including the late, great writer/producer Gene Coon (1924-1973), who developed such concepts as The Prime Directive and highlighted character interaction. The cast -- including William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, De Forest Kelley, James Doohan, Nichelle Nicholls, George Takei and Walter Koenig -- brought the series’ personalities to vivid and immortal life too.

In terms of plot, Star Trek involves the starship Enterprise and its crew, operating in the distant future, encountering aliens on strange new worlds and exploring new civilizations. Today, we associate the Enterprise and its personnel with Starfleet, The United Federation of Planets, and even alien races such as the Vulcans.

But as we go back and re-watch Star Trek in its first steps, one can see that all these details are not yet ironed out.  It’s a strange paradox of Star Trek, actually.  The first season is often regarded as the best in terms of overall quality of storytelling, and yet in terms of terminology and continuity, it is at its weakest.

For instance, Starfleet Command is referred to UESPA (United Earth Space Agency), Space Central, Earth Command, and Space Command in early episodes.  It is not until episode #15, “Court Martial” that the term “Starfleet Command” comes into the lexicon. 

Similarly, Spock is referred to as a “Vulcanian,” not a Vulcan, throughout the first season.  One story -- the eighteenth in the first season, -- “The Squire of Gothos” sets the voyages of this Enterprise as occurring at some point in the 27^th century! 

The Enterprise also is powered by lithium crystals in early first season episodes such as “Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “Mudd’s Women,” before Dilithium crystals become the standard in later stories.

Characters seem to shift a bit in the first season as well. Mr. Spock (Leonard Nimoy) starts out barking orders in a very loud voice (“The Corbomite Manuever), before becoming a calmer, more even-toned character.  Mr. Sulu (George Takei) changes jobs from ship’s physicist to helmsman in the first season, and Lt. Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) changes uniform colors, from gold to red in early episodes. It is clear that these aspects of the franchise are still being worked out.

Despite such specific vacillations in terms of continuity, Star Trek is, by and large, brilliantly-written from Day One. The stories are vivid and colorful, the performances dynamic, and most importantly, the ideas contained within these stories remain timeless and stimulating. My son, who is 9, and into Minecraft and Terraria, has become an ardent Star Trek fan on my latest re-watch. The stories -- about human nature and friendship -- endure because they stir the mind and the heart simultaneously. 

Also, and scholars, critics and fans write about this far more infrequently, Star Trek is also often funny and, well, kind of kinky.  The characters boast a sense of humor about themselves and their adventures, and the series is highly sexual. Later incarnations have shorted the kinkiness, to some extent, and that’s a shame, since sex is a significant aspect of human nature. 

The original series, clearly, remains Star Trek’s foundational text: the Old Testament to The Next Generation’s New Testament, perhaps. 

In these seventy-nine 1960s episodes, we meet Vulcans, Klingons and Romulans – all of whom continue to figure into the franchise to this day. We are also introduced to the Mirror Universe, Khan, tribbles, time travel and other standards of the Trek universe.

We also encounter spaceship designs (exterior and interior) that have influenced TV and movies for decades, and encounter instrumentation -- communicators, phasers and tricorders -- that have inspired a generation of engineers and their inventions.

In upcoming episode reviews, I will study character development, universe inconsistencies, and most importantly, the optimistic philosophy of Star Trek.  Before starting the episodes reviews, next week, I will gaze, this Thursday, at the concept that I believe characterizes Star Trek the most: identity.

Next Tuesday in this space, the human adventure begins with the very first Star Trek episode aired, “The Man Trap.”

Television and Cinema Verities #51

“Reality is incredibly larger, infinitely more exciting, than the flesh and blood vehicle we travel in here. If you read science fiction, the more you read it the more you realize that you and the universe are part of the same thing. Science knows still practically nothing about the real nature of matter, energy, dimension, or time; and even less about those remarkable things called life and thought. But whatever the meaning and purpose of this universe, you are a legitimate part of it. And since you are part of the all that is, part of its purpose, there is more to you than just this brief speck of existence. You  are just a visitor here in this time and this place, a traveler through it.” 

- Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek