Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "Turnabout Intruder" (June 3, 1969)

Stardate 5928.5

The U.S.S. Enterprise races to Camus II, where several archaeologists exploring the ruins of an ancient alien civilization have fallen ill due to deadly radiation poisoning.

The scientist team leader is Dr. Janice Lester (Sandra Smith), who once had a tumultuous romantic relationship with Captain Kirk (William Shatner), but covets his success as a Starfleet captain.

With the aid of her lover, Dr. Coleman (Harry Landers), Dr. Landers engineers a plan to get Kirk alone, and then use an alien transference device to switch bodies with him.

This strategy goes as planned, and when Captain Kirk awakens after an assault, he finds himself trapped in Janice’s body. 

Janice, meanwhile, has assumed command of the starship Enterprise.

Soon, however, the Enterprise’s top officers begin to detect disturbing changes in the captain’s personality, and attempt to talk with the defensive Lester about them. When Spock learns that Kirk is trapped in Lester’s body, Lester arranges a court martial on charges of mutiny, and plans the execution of Spock.

Scotty (James Doohan) and Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley) attempt to intervene, but Janice Lester plans to hold them on charges of mutiny, as well.

“Turnabout Intruder” boasts some strong, powerful moments, yet overall is a sad and ugly way to end the run of such a brilliant series. 

As Star Trek’s final episode, “Turnabout Intruder” is notable.  Yet it is also notable for being one of those rare Treks that loses sight of the series progressive philosophy, and relies instead on dated 1960’s social context.

Here, for example, Janice Lester is a “mad” woman who simply doesn't know her place. She takes command of the Enterprise by illicit means because Starfleet apparently doesn’t have any women captains, and then is revealed – because of her womanhood -- as a person temperamentally incapable of the duties of command, thus validating Starfleet’s admission policy. 

The episode’s coda – the last “new” moment of live action Star Trek for a decade – sees Kirk musing that Janice’s life could have been as rich as any “woman’s, if only...”

Perhaps it is better that he didn’t finish that sentence. 

If only she knew her limitations? 

If only she had set her sights lower? 

If only she had realized women can’t be starship captains?”

If only she'd accepted the hand biology had dealt her?

Because of Kirk's trailing off, Star Trek fans, for generations have attempted to fill in the gap in a way that isn’t sexist or offensive. 

They have tried to ret-con the episode in a way to make it fit in with the universe we know Star Trek tried to depict, but -- if we are being totally honest -- sometimes fell far short depicting.

But the intention of the episode is clear, to disqualify women as captains, or leaders. 

Star Trek is so forward-thinking in so many ways, but we have nonetheless seen some terrible moments directed at women in the series' three seasons. “The Changeling” had a notation from Spock about women being a mass of conflicting impulses. “Elaan of Troyius” had Kirk stating that Vulcan was the only planet in the galaxy that could claim that it had logical women.

And here, we get a woman who doesn’t know her “place,” and doesn’t accept the role that her gender has assigned her. 

As much as I deeply respect the series' lead actor, this episode is made exponential worse by Shatner’s performance. He plays Lester’s Kirk as a prissy, nail-filing temptress, who gives into fits of hysteria and bug-eyes rage. I understand he was ill when this episode was shot, so I won’t belabor the point.

Sandra Smith, by contrast, does an excellent job of playing Kirk in Lester’s body, coming off as a highly believable and grounded incarnation of the good captain.

So why did I write, above, that “Turnabout Intruder” has some powerful moments?

Well, Mr. Sulu (George Takei) gets one of his best moments in the entire series in "Turnabout Intruder," refusing to stand-by and take orders while an execution has been ordered. This is a powerful statement of individual principle, and one that arrives at the height of the Vietnam War, to boot.  Instead of "just following orders," Sulu refuses to go along with the impostor Kirk's orders.

Scotty also comes off beautifully in this episode, planning a “mutiny,” and thinking out the ramifications and repercussions of every step the mutineers must take to save the real Kirk, and Spock from execution. I wrote about this aspect of the series two weeks ago, but it was clear that Scotty was becoming much better developed as a character in the third season.

Not unexpectedly, the Spock-Kirk friendship is also reinforced brilliantly here, as Spock shares a mind-meld with his friend, and recognizes him, despite the unusual physical shell that houses his identity. Once Spock knows what has occurred, he becomes a tireless advocate for his captain and friend, just as he once was for Christopher Pike in “The Menagerie.”

There may even be some social grounds upon which one can gaze at the episode as forward thinking. 

Consider poor Dr. Coleman for a moment. He is a man who fell in love with Janice Lester as a female. He completely commits to her (crazy) plan, which means that -- if Lester is successful -- she will be a man for the rest of her life. Yet Coleman is presumably attracted to her as a female, not as a male. 

So Coleman’s love, while misguided, is oddly loyal in a way. He is willing to put aside his own needs and desires in the relationship, so that Janice Lester can achieve hers needs and desires.

In some weird way, "Turnabout Intruder" also suggests that gender can be defined by more than one’s set of genitals. Kirk’s identity -- as a starship captain and man -- is confined inside Janice’s body. But there is no doubt that he remains Captain Kirk, no matter his outward appearance.

Finally, if one is looking for some -- any -- grounds upon which to view the episode as not horribly sexist, one can gaze at the fact that Janice Lester is a brilliant scientist, and the leader of her team. She has risen to command, and proven that a woman can command.

It’s not much, but it’s what we have to hold onto here. “Turnabout Intruder” is an apt name for the episode. The egalitarian, equality-seeking Star Trek we all know and love is replaced, temporarily -- brutally usurped -- by this backwards-looking, heavily-dated final episode.

This is a weak note to go out on, and a sad chapter for a brilliant, inspiring science fiction series.

Up next: The celebration of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s 30^th anniversary begins with a retrospective of the pilot: “Encounter at Farpoint.”

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "All Our Yesterdays" (March 14, 1969)

Stardate: 5943.7

The Enterprise enters the Beta Niobe star system, where the star is about to go supernova in a few hours. 

The starship approaches Sarpeidon, a class-M planet in the system, and Captain Kirk (William Shatner), Mr. Spock (Leonard Nimoy) and Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley) beam down to investigate a technological center

They enter a library building, and find a most unusual librarian, Mr. Atoz (Ian Wolfe), who tends to a machine called “the Atavachron” and insists that they select “verism tapes;” discs in the library which showcase different historical eras of Sarpeidon.

After accessing one tape -- of a time period resembling 17^th century England on Earth -- Captain Kirk hears a woman’s scream, and races through a doorway that is actually a time portal. Dr. McCoy and Spock race after him, but because McCoy was studying a tape of the Sarpeidon ice age, end up in a frozen wasteland.

Trapped in different time periods, the Starfleet officers must find their way back to the library, as the clock ticks down towards supernova.

In the ice age, Spock and McCoy encounter a lonely woman, Zarabeth (Mariette Hartley), who was exiled there by a tyrannical leader.  Spock, who is becoming more like the Vulcans of Zarabeth’s time period, 5000 years in the past, experiences a strong emotional connection to the woman. They fall in love.

However, Zarabeth can never return home to her time period, because of preparation through the Atavachron. She is doomed to spend the rest of her days in this frigid, frozen world.

Meanwhile, Kirk makes his way out of a prison, after being accused of witchcraft, and returns to the library. There he grapples with Mr. Atoz, who desperately wants to prepare Kirk, and then escape to his own “yesterday.”

“All Our Yesterdays” is a beautiful and successful Star Trek love story, from a season featuring too many weak love stories (“For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky,” “Requiem for Methuselah,” and “The Lights of Zetar.”)  

The fact that this episode succeeds so ably is even more surprising considering that the character who falls in love is the unemotional Mr. Spock.  Spock love stories are difficult to write well, and yet this story, from Jean Lisette Aroeste, is elegant and haunting.

Fortunately, a "logical" reason is given for Spock’s unusual emotional attachment. Upon returning to the past, he begins to act in the emotional, savage manner of Vulcans of the time period; pre-Surak. This idea is a wonderful addition to canon, and augments the already-established suggestion that Vulcans can sense each other over long distances, in the form of light telepathic contact (a factor also made evident in “The Immunity Syndrome,” and recently in Star Trek: Discovery’s [2017] “The Battle of the Binary Stars.”)

Given this mental connection to the Vulcans of 5,000 years in the past, it is natural and makes sense that Spock begins to behave in a different fashion, showing signs of emotion, falling in love, and eating animal flesh. I only wish there were as strong an explanation for Kirk’s behavior with Rayna in “Requiem for Methuselah,” or Scotty’s out-of-character actions in “The Lights of Zetar.”

Spock himself makes note of the changes in his character, and at one point nearly even kills the argumentative McCoy.  When McCoy calls him a name, Spock nearly strangles him, saying he doesn't like it, and never did.

Despite the outside forces working on the beloved character, the love between Spock and Zarabeth nonetheless feels absolutely authentic (again, something that can’t be said of the love stories in the other episodes I mentioned). Zarabeth is intelligent and strong, and alone. These are qualities that Spock might very “logically” feel himself drawn to. After all, he is an outsider among other humans, very much alone in some important ways.

The love story is made all the more touching by two factors at the end of the tale. First, Spock must leave Zarabeth, if McCoy is to go home. So, Spock must deliberately act against his desire and will to remain with Zarabeth, in essence stranding her alone all over again. 

And secondly, after he steps through the time portal, Spock returns to normal, and shows no sign of his previous attachment to Zarabeth. He is his "cool" unaffected self again.

Of course, we know Spock better than that. There is no doubt he remembers and still feels something powerful for Zarabeth. It is just that, in the present, he is better able to suppress his emotions. 

For me, this haunting ending, with Spock coldly disavowing his former emotional state, ranks right up with the codas of “City on the Edge of Forever” (Kirk’s “Let’s get the Hell out of here”) and “This Side of Paradise” (Spock’s “For the first time in my life…I was happy.”)

The tragic nature of this story is beautifully depicted by both Leonard Nimoy, as the confused and befuddled Spock, and Mariette Hartley as the lonely, desperate Zarabeth. It is a testament to both performances that this love story feels so real, and so, well...star-crossed.

If Spock’s story in “All Our Yesterdays” feels powerful and authentic, Kirk’s story proves markedly less interesting. He must battle accusations of witchcraft, and win over the trust and aid of the local prosecutor (Kermit Murdock), who is also a time traveler. The tale isn’t particularly interesting, but matters for Kirk grow even more intense upon his return to the library, and his battle of wills against Mr. Atoz and his duplicates.

Indeed, Kirk’s story becomes increasingly tense as the supernova event nears, and he must desperately attempt to locate Spock and McCoy…somewhere, in all of the planet’s history. At one point, Atoz gets the jump on Kirk, “prepares” him through the Atavachron, and nearly dooms Kirk to a life spent in the past.  These moments are very suspenseful.

The Zarabeth-Spock love story, however, ultimately became so beloved by Star Trek fans that A.C. Crispin continued the tale of their affair (and its aftermath: a child) in the novels Yesterday’s Son, and Time for Yesterday.

Less remarked upon, but no less interesting is the sci-fi idea put forward cleverly by this episode, that to travel through time -- and survive in another age -- a person must be physiologically prepared for their new home. Their cells, essentially, must be altered.  

I rather like this detail in "All Our Yesterdays," as it would preclude time travelers from moving, en masse into previous ages, and polluting a time-line. I would love to see Star Trek pick up this idea on a more recurring basis, since it suggests that time travelers can only exist for a matter of days in another era, before exposure to that age (and that age’s diseases?) kills them.  So, the events of many movies and episodes could still occur, but there would be regular danger for time travelers, if they overstayed their welcome.

Next up, the final episode of Star Trek: “Turnabout Intruder.”

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Savage Curtain" (March 7, 1969)

Stardate 5906.4

While the U.S.S. Enterprise investigates the inhospitable, volcanic world called Excalbia, a mysterious event occurs. 

A man who claims to be slain U.S. President Abraham Lincoln (Lee Bergere) contacts the ship and asks to come aboard. He shows all the mannerism of the real Lincoln.

Although Captain Kirk (William Shatner) is certain that this unusual being could not actually be Lincoln, he nonetheless beams him aboard, and with full presidential honors, to boot.  This act angers Mr. Scott (James Doohan) and Dr. McCoy (De Forest Kelley), who both fear that the alien boasts malicious intent.

President Lincoln invites Kirk and Spock (Leonard Nimoy) to beam down to the surface of Excalbia, even as a pocket of breathable atmosphere and hospitable land appears there. Lincoln also assures Spock that he will meet the greatest Vulcan in history, below.

Kirk and Spock beam down, and are confronted with a silicon life-form, an Excalbian named Yarnek (Janos Prohaska). The Excalbians, Yarnek reveals, do not understand the human concept of good and evil, and have enlisted Spock and Kirk to help them comprehend it better.

To this end, they have teamed the Starfleet officers up with Lincoln, and Surak (Barry Atwater), the Vulcan philosopher who led Spock’s planet to peace through logic.

Opposing these “good” beings is a team of great evil. These individuals include 21^st century warlord, Colonel Green (Phillip Pine), the Klingon unifier, Kahless (Robert Herron), Genghis Khan (Nathan Yung) and the fiendish and sadistic Zora (Carol Daniels De Ment).

When Kirk refuses to participate in this staged contest, the Excalbians raise the stakes. They threaten to destroy the Enterprise unless Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock participate in their “drama.

At first blush, “The Savage Curtain,” by Gene Roddenberry and Arthur Heinemann seems like an unnecessary repeat of “Arena.”

In that story, Kirk must fight an alien starship captain, under the watchful eye of an advanced alien, a Metron, who has arranged the combat. In choosing not to kill, Kirk demonstrates his -- and humanity’s -- value system, and proves that the species has outgrown its infancy.

In “The Savage Curtain,” Kirk and Spock must fight a team of villains, under the watchful eye of another advanced alien, the Excalbian Yarnek, who has arranged the combat to “learn” about human concepts of good and evil. 

Again, Kirk demonstrates humanity’s value system. One more fighting, and choosing not to kill, is the crucible by which a specie’s development is judged.

Yet some qualities clearly differentiate the two episodes. The Metron in “Arena” is haughty and arrogant, gazing at man as a primitive species. By contrast, Yarnek possesses a certain brand of innocence or naivete in his fumbling quest for knowledge. Although he goes about learning in absolutely the wrong way, Yarnek’s ultimate goal is indeed information; knowledge which he will share with his people.

Similarly, the “The Savage Curtain” contends, at least subtly, with the meaning and nature of hero worship. Captain Kirk meets one of his heroes, Abraham Lincoln, and Spock encounters one of his: Surak.

The question, appropriately raised by Scotty and McCoy, is…can hero worship lead one to folly?

In this case, Kirk is willing to “follow” Lincoln to a planet surface that could instantly kill him. Kirk and Spock both admit, as well, to being beguiled, after a fashion, by Lincoln’s charm and wit. 

Although Lincoln and Surak are defined in the episode as “good,” the episode also suggests what can happen when people follow even good leaders into danger because of loyalty, belief, or faith. 

Kirk and Spock’s eyes are always open, however, and one true virtue of the episode is the way that Kirk gazes at Lincoln not just as a hero, but -- at the same time -- as an alien being making (hopefully peaceful) first contact. There’s great complexity in Kirk’s character on Star Trek, and this episode explores that complexity. He both honors and respects the historical Lincoln (and his avatar aboard ship), and simultaneously maintains a “distance” from that hero worship, considering the reality of the situation; the fact that Lincoln is an alien.  How he bridges this paradox is pure “Kirk,” and his approach confuses the hell out of Scotty and McCoy.

“The Savage Curtain” is remembered by Star Trek fans, today, for its depiction not only of noble Surak, who developed and implemented the Vulcan ideal of logic, but for its introduction of Kahless, a Klingon leader who unified his empire.  What seems a bit disappointing, at least today, is that Kahless and Genghis Khan are both viewed in two-dimensional terms, as “evil.”  Clearly, Zora, who sadistically experiments on other lifeforms and the deceitful Green qualify as evil by most fair standards, but Genghis Khan?  Kahless?

Are they truly evil? Or products of their time, and cultures?

Kahless simply hails from an alien race that the Federation has warred with (as we’ve seen in Star Trek: Discovery). This fact of heritage does not make him evil.  Instead, he is the archetypal Klingon, a great warrior and leader from a warrior race. His people revere him. We know from the Star Trek films, and The Next Generation Era that Klingons are not evil. They merely possess different beliefs. It is disappointing for the Original Series -- which has often stressed the idea that Klingons and humans can become friends (“Errand of Mercy” and “Day of the Dove”) -- to simply label a member of this race “evil.”

Perhaps this is doubly disappointing, because “The Savage Curtain” reveals some genuine thematic complexity in Kirk’s final speech to the Excalbians. Yarnek professes confusion/disappointment that both good and evil forces resort to physical conflict. Because of this fact, he can’t discern which philosophy is which. He sees no operational difference.

Kirk sets Yarnek straight by noting that while the “evil” team fought for its own selfish reasons (survival and dominance), the “good team” fought to save the Enterprise and her crew.  Kirk warred not for power or glory, or because he wanted to win.

He fought because innocent lives were at stake.

From Kirk’s speech, a crucial point is made. Good and evil are the same in terms of fighting, but different in terms of their goals.  The sad thing, however, is that Kahless is not allowed to be viewed this way by the episode. He unified his people, and by that perspective would surely count as a great, unselfish good.

One facet of this episode that is not often discussed is the role of Mr. Scott. Whatever the third season’s alleged detriments, it is fair to state that Scotty, during this span, evolves to become a more well-developed and prominent character. In “The Savage Curtain,” he is right there, beside McCoy, offering vital counsel to Kirk, and showing a bit of rebellious spirit too. In another episode, “Turnabout Intruder,” Scotty takes charge in a difficult situation, and organizes a mutiny against a Captain Kirk impostor. 

Throw in the (inferior) Scotty love story, “The Lights of Zetar,” and some excellent character moments in “The Enterprise Incident” and “Is There in Truth No Beauty,” and one can easily imagine a fourth season of Star Trek in which Doohan’s named followed De Forest Kelley’s in the opening credits. One can see, in the third season, Scotty ascending to join the Big Three.

Finally, there is a lovely scene in "The Savage Curtain" that re-iterates Star Trek's commitment to diversity and equality in the galaxy. Abraham Lincoln calls Uhura a "negress," and then apologizes for his selection of words. Uhura responds, sincerely and elegantly, that she lives in a world in which words such as that no longer carry the ability to scar. Kirk adds that everyone in the 23rd century has moved past prejudice to experience "delight" in who they are, and what cultures and ethnicity they represent. This was a powerful and affirming philosophy in 1969, and is so today, in 2017.

“The Savage Curtain does not leap to mind as a great or particularly innovative episode of Star Trek, but nor is it counted among the worst in the series. It’s a solid installment, and one that has influenced ensuing generations through the introduction of characters like Surak and Kahless.

In this way, perhaps, “The Savage Curtain” overcomes its broad similarities to “Arena.”

Next week: “All Our Yesterdays.”

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Cloud Minders" (February 28, 1969)

Stardate 5818.4

The Enterprise has been tasked with stopping a terrible botanical plague on Merak 3. To do so, the ship requires supplies of the rare mineral known as zenite. The only zenite in the quadrant, however, can be found on the planet Ardana, a member of the Federation.

As Captain Kirk (William Shatner) learns very quickly, Ardana is a world of “violent contrasts.” The government, artists, and social elite are all housed in Stratos, a floating city in the clouds. Meanwhile, those who support the city, Troglytes, live in dark, dank condition on the nearly inhospitable planet surface.

Kirk and Spock (Leonard Nimoy) are attacked by “disruptors” -- a Troglyte reactionary group -- at the collection site for the Zenite. When it looks like the needed material may not be forthcoming ant time soon, Kirk must attempt to negotiate the social breach, befriending a Troglyte named Vanna (Charlene Polite), and earning the enmity of High Advisor Plasus (Jeff Corey), who runs the city and believes that all Troglytes are inherently inferior.

Spock attempts to get through to Droxine (Diana Ewing), daughter of Plasus, while Dr. McCoy (De Forest Kelley) learns that the “diminished mental activity” of the Troglytes is caused by exposure to the Zenite in its natural form, not any physiological or genetic inferiority.

Kirk realizes that filter masks could prevent such exposure and heal the Troglytes. But Plasus refuses to believe that the Troglytes could ever be the intellectual equals of the Stratos city-dwellers.

Based on a story once called “Castles in the Sky,” by David Gerrold, “The Cloud Minders” has long been controversial in terms of its genesis. Back in the early 1980’s, Gerrold and producer Fred Freiberger each had their respective say about the episode in Starlog. That dialogue, in many ways, has formed the conventional wisdom about the story.

And what is the conventional wisdom?

That, specifically, “The Cloud Minders” -- a story about social inequality -- missed the mark to some degree.

By focusing on the filter masks, the critics suggest, the episode suggest that the Troglytes will keep working, and keep being unequal in the society. The real issue -- the racism and ethnocentrism of the Stratos city dwellers -- is largely unaddressed. The Troglytes, with their gas masks, can now be happy slaves!

I don’t concur with this interpretation. And I think the argument is silly.

My feeling about the show’s finale is this: Before Kirk’s intervention with the filter masks, the Troglytes can’t effectively “disrupt” Stratos. They are affected by the gas, and not able to rally a truly effective strategy to combat the establishment. By giving the Troglytes the tools to fight for themselves, Kirk is making them a worthy opponent to the establishment. Their grievances will be redressed, as the Troglytes return to normal.

I don’t necessarily see this as a weaker resolution, but one that maintains, at least to some degree, the independence of the Enterprise. I think it’s a better solution, at least in terms of drama (and drama as it applies to a continuing series).

How so? 

Well, Kirk and his party ameliorate a health concern, but don’t overtly involve themselves in the politics -- or civil war -- of a sovereign Federation member planet. I don’t believe the episode would have worked effectively had Kirk merely taken sides, and helped the disruptors overthrow Stratos. 

Writing in terms of history now, often on Star Trek much of the drama often arises from the fact that starship crews seek to help planets they encounter but can’t fight their battles for them. Instead, the captains and crews can sort of “nibble” around the edges of the problem in hopes of fostering legitimate and meaningful change.

I would argue that “The Cloud Minders” is squarely in that tradition. Kirk has helped wrong a right, but he also hasn’t smashed a culture based on his own moral judgement of it.

None of this means that the episode is perfect.

In particular, “The Cloud Minders” handles Spock very badly. Just a season ago, Spock was willing to die rather than discuss Pon Farr with his very best friend, James Kirk.

In “The Cloud Minders,” he discusses Vulcan mating with Droxine, a woman – and non-Vulcan -- he has only just met.  The contradiction is jarring. 

Of course, one might argue that Spock only adhered to that secrecy because he was a Pon Farr virgin, so-to-speak, at the time of “Amok Time.” Here, having gone through it, the experience needn’t be handled with such sensitivity. 

But, that explanation is likely a stretch, considering how Tuvok handles the experience on Voyager (1995-2001): with extreme privacy and secrecy.

Also, Spock’s monologue and reverie about Stratos -- in which he flashes back to events already established, and re-hashes the plot -- seems a terrible waste of time, and an unnecessary bit of editorializing. It is quite clear from the performances of Shatner and Nimoy that Kirk and Spock don’t approve of the “segregated” nature of life on Ardana. No need to spoon-feed the audience the same information already communicated.

Finally, though Droxine is lovely indeed (and garbed in a fantastic Star Trek gown), it is not clear why Spock would be attracted to someone so set in her ways, and so prejudiced in her thinking. Droxine is a very shallow person, and not the type of person I see Spock being drawn to. She supports, after all, segregation.

And in some sense, that is what “The Cloud Minders” is really about: segregation between the haves and the have nots. As Spock notes, those on Stratos who receive the rewards are totally separated from those who shoulder the burdens, in this case, the Troglytes. The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer. As Spock observes, such a system does not suggest “wise” leadership. One group of citizens is haughty and entitled, while possessing no useful skill set. The other group of citizens barely eke by, a situation that, of course, fosters utter resentment.

The brilliance of Kirk’s move -- giving the Troglytes the filter masks -- is that he has presented the Troglytes with the platform or stability to fight back, and use their superior bargaining position. Freed from the negative effects of Zenite, they can now use their power to extract basic rights and freedoms from the people of Stratos.

Without the Troglytes, Stratos will, literally, fall.

Many writers and fans see in “The Cloud Minders” resonances of the science fiction classic, Metropolis (1927). That movie also concerned an uprising against an unfair and imbalanced social structure, with the workers striking back against the rich and powerful.  “The Cloud Minders,” however, is a different animal because it must also negotiate the role of a third party: Starfleet.  

And that’s where, I believe, some of the episode’s cleverness arises. Kirk’s unnecessarily brutal treatment of Plasus is, after all, a result of his exposure to Zenite. When Kirk expresses his distaste, he has a reason for acting in a manner not appropriate for a starship captain.

Some fans also view it as a weakness that Ardana was granted membership to the Federation, even though its society is patently unjust. I don’t view this as a weakness of the story, but as a strength. No world is perfect, and the Federation, in hoping to grow and expand, obviously chose poorly in accepting Ardana’s application for membership.  Perhaps Ardana’s application was accepted only because of the presence of zenite.

I have always wondered if the events of this episode jeopardized Ardana’s membership in the United Federation of Planets.

Next Week: “The Savage Curtain.”

Star Trek 50th Anniversary Blogging: "The Way to Eden" (February 21, 1969)

Stardate: 5832.3

The Enterprise intercepts the stolen star cruiser Aurora, which is headed towards the Neutral Zone, and then Romulan space. 

The son of a Catullan diplomat, Tongo Rad (Victor Brandt), is one of the young troublemakers on board, and Captain Kirk (William Shatner) is ordered to treat Rad’s party as guests, despite their law-breaking.

This assignment is more difficult than it may appear at first blush because the leader of Tongo’s group is Dr. Sevrin (Skip Homeier), a scientist and genius, who has also a carrier for a new -- and deadly disease -- Synthecoccus Novae.  

This is a highly unfortunate development because Sevrin’s cult is in search of the mythical natural world Eden, where it wants to start over, away from the synthetic, artificial worlds of the Federation. Among Sevrin’s followers are Adam (Charles Napier) and Irina Galliulin (Mary Linda Rapelye), both of whom will die if Sevrin is allowed to exist in that environment in his condition.

While Kirk struggles to get through to Sevrin and his followers, Spock (Leonard Nimoy) enlists Chekov (Walter Koenig) -- Irina’s old lover -- to locate Eden.

Once the planet has been located, Sevrin and his followers use ultrasonic frequencies to incapacitate the crew, and set foot on Eden.  The mission is doomed, and Kirk and his crew must save the survivors.

It is terribly easy to mock this episode of Star Trek (1966-1969).

Space hippies! Men in skimpy costumes! Ew!

And the space folk songs? They need auto-tune! 

Some Star Trek fans can be such a loathsome, self-hating bunch at times, can’t they?  

All of those complaints have much more to do with the particular audience than the flaws of this particular tale.  It's easy to mock. It's more difficult to examine, truthfully, what is being explored in this drama.

“The Way to Eden” is often counted as one of the worst episodes of the series, and yet I wouldn’t rank it that low, given what it attempts to say. Very few episodes of the original series question the Federation, or Starfleet.  The future is a place of progress, equality, and satisfaction.

But what if you long to live outside this “perfect” world? 

What if you long for a simple, non-technological life? Sure, you could colonize a world like Omicron Ceti III? 

But what if you don’t even want to fit into a traditional work structure at all? Or work as a farmer? 

What if you just want to check out, quit working, and just be one with nature?

What if, as Spock notes in “The Way to Eden,” you are one of those “many” who is “uncomfortable with what we have created. It is almost a biological rebellion. A profound revulsion against the planned communities, the programming, the sterilized, artfully-balanced atmospheres?”  

What if you are one of those who “hunger for an Eden…where spring comes?”

Those who dislike the episode find the very concept of hippies dated, but the question to ask: is this concept, as explained by Spock, dated, or actually forward-thinking?  If Spock himself can sympathize with this idea, why is it so hard for some Trek fans to identify with it?

“The Way to Eden” is all the more tragic, I would argue, because a valid quest -- one that Spock supports -- is co-opted by an insane power-hungry “cult” leader. I know some people see Dr. Sevrin as the man that President Nixon once called the most dangerous individual in America,:Timothy Leary.  

But in retrospect, I would say he has much more in common with Charles Manson.  Sevrin is the dark side of the hippie dream.

Why are the young and the idealistic susceptible to such leaders? 

I would submit that this question is really what “The Way to Eden” is about. Youth is about rebellion, and about turning against the establishment, to one degree or another.  Sadly, some young people hitch themselves to madmen like Manson in that act of rebellion, even while possessing a desire for peace and love.  Yes, their naivete is exploited badly.  

But this does not mean that their dreams or hopes are evil, or even wrong. In the 1980's the mainstream culture did a lot to discredit the hippies, but nothing discredited the counter-culture more than the likes of Manson. After his cult, the baby was thrown away with the bath water, in some sense.

Don’t we want the young to question what we have built? So that it will be better? 

It is sad that in both real life, and in Star Trek, such dreams are stolen by madmen with their own insane agendas.  

What remains so remarkable is that “The Way to Eden” aired before the hippie dream ended, and thus saw clearly -- in 1969 -- the danger inherent in some of the counter-culture’s leadership. “The Way to Eden” is actually the opposite of dated. It is prophetic, predicting that the counter-culture movement would end discredited, and maligned because of men like Sevrin.

“The Way to Eden” finds a perfect way to use Spock on Star Trek, I feel. It is appropriate that the outsider to humanity -- the man constantly questioning his place in the universe --- would find something appealing in the idea of a brand new world, one free of the definitions or divisions of his own.  

Spock sees validity in the “cause,” rather than standing in judgment of the youngsters, and that seems like a clever choice on the part of the episode writer. Spock is a counter-culture figure in his own way because he has substituted his own “alien” way for the establishment way. He's a pacifist, a scientist, a vegetarian, and caustic, at times, about humanity.

I also rather like how Kirk is treated in this episode. For him, everything comes down to maintaining order on the Enterprise. He doesn’t want to be a “Herbert,” and he scolds Scotty for judging the youngsters ("why do young minds have to be undisciplined ones?"). But he also can't have chaos on his ship.

At the episode’s end, Kirk tells Spock that he “reaches.” This means that he understands why Spock feels the Eden movement is worthwhile. Again, Kirk is the equivalent of a naval officer of the future, a military man, in a sense. 

If even he can understand the “hippies,” then what they seek is not pie-in-the-sky, or worthless. It's human.

Chekov’s sub-plot in “The Way to Eden” doesn’t come across nearly as well, by comparison. He treats Irina like a scolding-parent at times, which doesn’t make him seem the young, open-minded ensign we saw in “The Apple,” or  in“Spectre of the Gun.” 

If even Kirk can loosen up and admit that he “reaches,” then it seems Chekov would be a bit more receptive.

While it’s true that the symbolism in the episode is obvious -- Adam eats a poison apple in paradise -- the idea is worthy of further exploration. 

Consider that it is not knowledge, in this case, that caused the innocent to eat a poisoned apple. Rather the “acid” apple that Adam ate came from his placing trust in the wrong person; the wrong leader.  

Again, consider the void in leadership in the late-1960’s and late 1970’s. In the months preceding “The Way to Eden,” America lost both MLK and RFK in separate assassinations. Those in search of a new Camelot or Eden turned to darker, less stable sources of inspiration. Just weeks after “The Way to Eden” aired, the Manson Family killed Sharon Tate. 

I understand why people complain about the hippies and the songs here, but those who dismiss “The Way to Eden” so easily seem to be seeing only the hippies, and hearing only the songs.  

The story - about a noble quest perverted into something insane by a mad leader -- is actually the story of what my friend Johnny Byrne called “the wake up after the hippie dream.” The summer of love gave way, finally, to a season of madness and violence, at least for some. “The Way to Eden” seems to see this possibility in a clear-eyed and prophetic way.  

The mechanics are familiar: outsiders hijack the Enterprise for a quest not of the crew's design. But the ideas underlying the familiar story tell us a lot about our world as Star Trek came to an end.

Next week: “The Cloud Minders.”