Television and Cinema Verities: The Black Hole Edition

The script at the end said... I forget now how it was worded, but it made it clear that there was an ending that they were going to keep secret until they shot it. My assumption was, "Oh, boy, this is going to be a good ending. This is Disney, these guys know what they're doing, they're really gonna put something great out there." And when I saw the picture, I was really confused about what that ending was all about. So, with the exception of the ending, I liked the picture a lot."

- Robert Forster discusses the making of The Black Hole (1979), at A.V. Club.

Advert artwork: Battlestar Galactica (Mattel) Edition

Cult-TV Flashback: Star Trek: Voyager: "Deadlock"

If Star Trek: Voyager (1995 – 2001) had played its cards right, it would have added an alien nemesis to the enduring outer space franchise as terrifying and fearsome as the Borg once were. 

In particular, the first seasons of the 1990s program featured an alien race of the Delta Quadrant known as the Vidiians. These aliens were hideously deformed, technological advanced beings who suffered the effects of an incurable plague. 

What made the Vidiians truly so terrifying, however, is the fact they weren’t out to explore other worlds peacefully, or make new friends.  

Instead, they wanted to harvest the organs of any compatible life form they could find. Certainly, the Borg wanted to “assimilate” new technologies and drones to their vast collective, but the Vidiians would kill you in a heart-beat for a healthy liver.

The Vidiians were at their dreadful, menacing, and merciless best in the second season Voyager episode “Deadlock” by Brannon Braga. 

The story, not unlike “The Best of Both Worlds” on The Next Generation (1987 – 1994) features a scarifying sense of momentum and inevitability.  It's one of those episodes that moves fast, with great purpose, and events seem to overwhelm both the characters and the audience.

In “Deadlock,” Voyager discovers that it is entering a region of space controlled by the Vidiians.

Captain Kathryn Janeway (Kate Mulgrew) decides that it may be prudent for the ship to cloak itself inside a nearby “plasma drift,” and hopefully remain out of sight.  But the ship encounters some sort of subspace turbulence in the drift.  The warp engines stall, as if they have “sprung a leak.”

This turn of event couldn’t happen at a worse time, because not only are the Vidiians nearby, but Ensign Wildman is very pregnant, and going into labor. When the ship's systems start to fail, the baby's life is imperiled, even after a "fetal transport."

The plasma drift also causes all of Voyager’s matter to double, creating a duplicate ship, but one joined at the heart -- the warp-drive -- with “our” Voyager. This means every person, from Janeway down to the newborn child is also duplicated.

The two Janeways confer about the crisis and the possibilities of separation, but before long, the Vidiians find Voyager in its hiding spot, and 347 of their shock-troopers board one of the ships to begin organ harvesting…

The opening acts of “Deadlock” are laden with terrible techno-babble that means nothing, a common problem of both Star Trek: Voyager and the episodes written by Brannon Braga. Yet despite this pitfall, “Deadlock” works, in part because it has the (brutal) courage to play out its nightmare scenario: a Starfleet vessel overrun by Vidiians. 

In short order, we see Tuvok (Tim Russ) and Paris (Robert Duncan McNeill) shot down by the soldiers, their organs cataloged and harvested for return to the Vidiian population.  The episode also shows us Harry Kim (Garrett Wang) during a hull-breach, but it is the deaths associated with the Vidiian march that, for me, remain the most terrifying.  One of the most upsetting images of the episodes sees the Vidiian away team practically salivating at the thought of taking the Wildman baby, a new-born.

"Deadlock" is also abundantly clever in the way that it plays with audience perceptions of “our” Voyager. At first, the version of the starship we have followed all along seems hopelessly crippled, and Janeway must contemplate destroying her own ship.  

Then, a second Voyager is found -- with a whole crew and a functioning ship -- and we breathe a sigh of relief because, essentially, we know our beloved characters won’t die.  Then the kicker is that it is the other Voyager -- the whole Voyager -- that is boarded by the Vidiians, leaving the other Janeway to destroy her ship….which she promptly does.

"Welcome to the bridge..."

“Deadlock” is a particularly strong episode for Kate Mulgrew -- and for Captain Janeway -- as she plays the same individual attempting to “cheat” death in two, essentially, hopeless situations. 

And making matters worse, Janeway must consider not only the safety and well-being of her own crew, but the safety and well-being of the other crew, which is also, paradoxically, her own crew.  It’s enough to make the head spin, but one quality I admire about Janeway (especially here) is how she takes the weird situation at face value and -- based on the available science and the facts -- works her way through the danger. I’ve always liked Janeway quite a bit as a character, and she’s actually my second favorite Star Trek captain, after James Kirk.  

In part, this is because Janeway is actually an expert in a field  other than diplomacy. She’s a scientist and engineer first, not just an ambassador with a portfolio, and many episodes (including “Parallax”) reveal how her training in those fields help bring about good outcomes in crises. Given our anti-science culture today, I find Janeway especially refreshing. She's smart as a whip, and never uses the excuse that she's "not a scientist" to avoid grappling with a problem.

Voyager was always at its best when it verged on being a horror show, which is another reason that "Deadlock" works so effectively.

I  also absolutely love “The Thaw,” another second season story, wherein Janeway must outwit a devilish, holographic clown (Michael McKean), and I am similarly fond of the third season episode “Macrovirus,” in which giant, airborne germs decimate the crew, leaving Janeway to single-handedly combat them and save the ship.  

These episodes come closest to fulfilling Voyager's potential.  It  is a series about a starship alone in the great unknown, without the resources of a command structure to fall back on.  Episodes like the one I mention focus on the danger inherent in such a scenario.

Later seasons of the series brought the Borg back again and again and again, watering down their threat substantially, but those return visits, while demanded by Star Trek fans, I suppose, are not that effective.  

Imagine, instead if Voyager had continued to use the Vidiians as a primary villain.  

We could have had five or six years of some really scary stories about contending with a race that sees humans only as organ donors… 

Star Trek: Voyager: "Deadlock" Promo

Outré Intro: Star Trek: Voyager (1995 - 2001)

Whether Star Trek: Voyager (1995 - 2001) is your favorite entry in the long-lived space opera franchise or not, it is pretty much undeniable that the series' introductory montage is the most beautiful and gorgeously realized in Trek history.

The original Star Trek (1966 - 1969) remains my overall favorite series in the Roddenberry universe for many reasons, but in this terrain, it simply doesn't compete. If you go back and watch the opening credits for Star Trek, even with high-definition special effects, you can see that it doesn't quite capture the majesty, mystery or wonder of space. 

At least not in the way that Voyager's opening manages. Indeed, I have readers asked me to feature a Star Trek series here on Outre Intro, and I have resisted for a variety of reasons.  

DS9's (1993 - 1999) opening is sedentary and dull, even though the series itself is great. 

I never took to Enterprise's (2001 - 2005) non-traditional theme song. 

And The Next Generation (1987 - 1994) got close...but Voyager perfected the "space art" formula, revealing deep space as a realm you would actually want to explore.

Specifically, Voyager recognizes a fact that Space:1999 (1975 - 1977) learned in the seventies: outer space looks a lot cooler when you're not looking at it simply a black background with pinpricks of light.  A colorful nebula helps break the visual monotony.

Accordingly, in Voyager, space is a living place of fire and ice, of fog and shadows.  In short, it looks like a place you might actually want to spend money to visit.

This is not a small deal. 

By the 1990s, the American space program had become "routine," taken for granted by most citizens. The shuttle program was aging, but one bright spot (after initial problems...) was the Hubble Telescope, which revealed some of the most beautiful cosmic imagery one could imagine. Voyager's introductory montage seems to have been created with this ideal in mind, forsaking the traditional image of outer space as nothing but blackness and snowflake stars.

As the montage commences, cosmic rays are visible, stretching across a section of space. The light and particles are golden, suggestive of heat, but sort of a welcoming heat, in a sense.  In the next frame, we see that these are emissions from a bright star, and a lone starship passes within our view.

We move through the wave of particles, and when they dissipate, disappearing from view, the series title comes up. 

Importantly, the lettering of the word VOYAGER is gold too, exactly like the light we saw from the sun.

Next up, the great starship passes by our eyes. It moves above us, so that we get a good, detailed look at it.  It is familiar, like the U.S.S. Enterprise, in shape, but different too.

Instead of a saucer, we get an arrow head, or spear point. That seems appropriate for a ship blazing new trails, in unexplored space.

Next up, the Voyager cuts through what looks like a glowing fog-bank in space, and we get only intermittent views of her, as we might get similar views of a submarine at sea, moving just beneath the ocean's surface.

Next, an asteroid tumbles through view, and there is, perhaps, a cosmic string in the background, letting off white light.

A planet surface becomes visible, and in the foreground an icy, mountainous moon.  Once more, the array of sights is dazzling and beautiful, and a repudiation of the idea that space is a barren, empty place, devoid of light and life, devoid of beauty.

The message: this is an exciting show worth watching, and space is a realm worthy of exploration.

Another gorgeous sight: we move through the rocks comprising the rings of an alien world.  

I love this next sequence of shots, as it suggests one reason to love film (and television). Both media, at their best, can take us to places we have never been, but perhaps imagined in our dreams.  This shot, moving through the rings of a Saturn-like planet, at least for me, fulfills that idea.

A color inversion is next, as Voyager moves beyond an eclipse of some type.  Again, the montage seems to stress color and a variety of environments.  This shot looks like "negative" space, and like nothing we would expect to encounter.

In the montage's final sequence of shots, Voyager warps into a nebula, into -- importantly -- a zone of light, and varied colors (crimson and blue).  It's destination is not a world of black and white, but wondrous color.   This is what awaits us in the stars if we are brave enough to tackle them.

I absolutely love the visuals of this montage, and how they are coupled with Jerry Goldsmith's remarkable, inspiring and bombastic score.  

In some sense, the montage -- in terms of visuals and sound -- does its job too well. Some Voyager episodes simply couldn't live up to the wonder and awe  promised by this picturesque opener.

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: Godzilla: "The Time Dragons"

In “The Time Dragons,” the Calico detects a nuclear satellite falling from orbit on a collision course with the ship.  Godzilla is summoned, but when he catches the falling object, the exploding uranium causes both the giant monster and the Calico to travel back in time, to a prehistoric epoch.

In this prehistoric age, the area is geologically unstable, and the Calico crews help save a tribe of cave-men from local threats including a tar pit, flooding, and a diplodocus. Peter, meanwhile, is nearly dinner for a carnivorous plant.

Godzilla and the Calico eventually make it back to the present -- to the moment immediately prior to the satellite’s fall from the sky -- but something else has come along to the present with them: a giant, combative dinosaur.'

The season finale of Hanna Barbera’s Godzilla (1978) is a fine note to go out on, one that -- like the best episodes of the series (“Colossus of Atlantis”) -- is crowded with ideas, and not just giant monster fights. 

Here, a time travel story is pretty compelling, even if some key issues are side-stepped.  For instance, if the Calico emerges from the time warp before the point it left, shouldn’t there be two such vessels now?

Similarly, none of the characters enunciate much concern that by saving the cave-men of the region, the crew is actually altering their own time-line, and the shape of the future.  Perhaps that tribe was selected (by nature) to become extinct.

In short, no one stops to weigh their actions, or consider the idea that an act in the past (like the killing of a man-eating plant) could have repercussions for the timeline’s future.

Finally, it’s also a shame that there is no discussion of Godzilla that relates him to prehistory, presumably the age in which his species thrived. Would Godzilla feel more at home in this epoch, an age of giant creatures?  Perhaps…

The crew never once voices the obvious idea that Godzilla has come home, and that, for his own good and happiness, perhaps should remain in this home.

Still, “The Time Dragon’s” book-end structure makes for some fun moments, with the meteor appearing at the episode’s beginning (to hurl the Calico and Godzilla back in time) and at the episode’s end, to hurl his dinosaur opponent back instead. 

Sadly, “The Time Dragon” is the last commercially available episode of the 1978 Godzilla, so starting next week I’ll be reviewing a different series instead.  I must admit, I really like this program and its occasional high-concept lunacy. If the second season should become available, I’ll continue blogging the Hanna Barbera series from that point.

Next week, I begin blogging Korg, 70,000 BC, a live-action Hanna-Barbera series from the mid-1970s.

Saturday Morning Cult-TV Blogging: BraveStarr: "Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here."

In “Hail, Hail, The Gang’s All Here,” evil space pirates come to New Texas, and look up their old cohort, Handle-Bar. They want him to open the gates to Fort Kerium, allowing them to sweep in and take over the town with Tex-Hex. 

Handle-Bar, fearing that BraveStarr will think less of him because of his criminal past, contemplates their plan, but comes down on the side of right, despite threats of blackmail...

In this episode of BraveStarr (1987) we learn more about the background of Handle Bar, saloon owner in Fort Kerium. 

He was a space pirate along with “Rat Face” and other goons before going to prison and paying his debt to society.  As BraveStarr and the judge note, “a man can start fresh” on New Texas, and it looks like that was Handle Bar’s plan. He is clearly embarrassed and ashamed of his former life, and attempts to hide the space pirate tattoo he still has on one arm.

The notion of Handle Bar grappling with his past is coupled, in “Hail, Hail, The Gang’s All Here,” with a prologue in which BraveStarr searches for the missing pieces of his own past.  The Shaman tells him it is more important who he is now, than where he came from.  That message, of course, can be applied to Handle-Bar and his crisis as well.

At the end of the episode, the message is put in more direct terms, as the Filmation approach prefers. “Judge people by what they are, not what they were. Friends forgive friends.”

In terms of the BraveStarr canon, this episode isn’t one of the more adult, or interesting ones. Once again Tex-Hex is fixin’ to make trouble, and once again he’s stopped. Once again, BraveStarr is wise about who he chooses to be his friend.

Also, I found the visual design of the space pirates to be underwhelming. They look like refugees from a late 1970s Disney movie.  By that I mean they are of a more fanciful nature than seems right for the downright gritty world of BraveStarr. 

Rat-face (of Aldebaron II) is literally a humanoid rat, and his cohort is an elephant man, replete with elephant trunk.  So there are aliens out there who are humanoid version of Earth animals?  

It just seems weird, and spectacularly lacking in creativity to feature such obvious and childish-looking aliens.  But that fact established, the pirates have an awesome spaceship.