Well, it doesn’t suck.
Despite J.J. Abrams repeatedly telling me to stay away (“Not your father’s Star Trek”, but what if I’m the father you’re referring to?), my son, his wife, and I went on opening day. I’ve been thinking how to put all this down ever since. Where to begin?
The opening sequence is simply brilliant. Watching the USS Kelvin get smeared by The Villain is a vivid experience. A small sample is watching members of the crew race for their emergency stations as the ship comes under attack. Without warning, a wall rips open and several are blown into the silent, lethal vacuum of space. The moment is made all the more horrific by going from screaming sounds to (literally) deathly silence.
Most of the first half of the film lives up to this promising start. A scene where young Kirk steals a car and throws it off a cliff is just awful, though, and meeting Spock as he beats the snot out of a school bully is painful. Despite these stumbles, characters are introduced in good order. Some of the dialogue was written by someone with a tin ear, but relative to what’s to come, that’s a quibble.
Most of the acting is better than all right. Simon Pegg, as Scotty, is a little disappointing, though I suspect he’ll grow into the part. Zachary Quinto does an admirable job as Spock, catching many of the character’s nuances just right. John Cho (Sulu) and Anton Yelchin (Chekov) don’t quite suck but I was glad when they weren’t on screen. Zoe Saldana’s Uhuru isn’t bad, but it’s rather embarrassing that a key scene involves her stripping down to her underwear (and people complained about Nichelle Nichols’ feather dance).
Karl Urban, in contrast, is a revelation. His performance, as McCoy, is not only perfect, but an homage to DeForrest Kelley, the man who first breathed life into the character. It’s remarkable.
As for Chris Pine as Kirk, he’s better than I expected but the problem is fundamental. In an interview, Pine said he based his character on Indiana Jones and Han Solo. Not bad…if you’re playing an adventurous rogue. Which he’s not. Contrast that with William Shatner, who said he based his performance of Kirk on Alexander the Great, one of the greatest military commanders in history, one who was undefeated because he didn’t believe in being defeated (i.e., just so I’m perfectly clear, “I don’t believe in the no-win scenario”).
That’s not a rogue, that’s a leader. That’s who Kirk is. And who this Kirk isn’t.
It’s not Pine’s fault, it’s the writers’. The problem is that the rebooted Kirk doesn’t make any sense. Every other character’s background is left alone. In contrast, Kirk’s history, from birth, is rewritten by that brilliant opening sequence. The original Kirk became who he was because he was inspired by a father who was an active member of Starfleet. He had lifetime to know, live, and even work with his father.
This Kirk, on the other hand, was raised by…who knows. Rumor has it, it’s his drunken, abusive uncle, but that’s no where shown in the film. (And if that’s true, then his mother is shown abandoning her son to such a person.) Yet somehow, Kirk is Kirk, despite living an entirely different life. Nature versus nurture? The original Kirk was arrogant because of a lifetime of effort, achievement, and success, guided by the role models he grew up with; this Kirk is arrogant because he’s a punk. Somehow, a one-minute speech turns him around.
Sure.
And so the film starts to unravel. Eric Bana’s Nero, The Villain, doesn’t help. He’s flat and unsympathetic. He’s on a rampage for some reason, kills people on sight just because, and puts his entire scheme of revenge, vengeance, retribution, etc., on hold for 25+ years because the plot requires him to do so. During this time, no one will attempt to locate this marauder or even discuss his existence.
Why? Who knows. As we barrel into the second act, Star Trek can’t be bothered to explain what the hell is going on. It’s just time to blow something else up. When it does deign to explain what the hell is going on (kinda, but not really), it’s in the worst way possible, with an expository dump (the only reason for Leonard Nimoy to be in the film).
The film has luscious visual effects, or at least I think it does. It suffers from the rapid cut, shaky cam, extreme close up style that is so in vogue today, so who really knows. An Autobot could have exploded on screen and you wouldn’t have noticed.
The production design is a mixed bag. Early shots on the Kelvin, on Earth, and on Vulcan, are great, but the bridge of the Enterprise is just silly and Nero’s ship makes no sense. The truly dreadful choice was filming real-life “industrial areas” as the ship’s engineering spaces. This looks so cheap, words fail me.
On a more positive note, there’s Michael Giacchino’s music (no pun intended). Like the film, it’s hit or miss, but more hits than misses. His action cues are generic and repetitive, but the more somber moments are lush, emotional, and addictive. What I really appreciated, though, was the care and grace he showed with Alexander Courage’s original theme music. The orchestration and arrangements used are fantastic, and it’s to Giacchino’s credit that he made someone else’s work shine so brightly.
In the end, what’s it all mean? When the film was done, I said, “That rocked!” That feeling lasted roughly an hour, as we discussed the characters and plot and they all started falling apart. While it doesn’t suck, it’s disappointing, a film that seems to pander more than inspire, one that never attempts to invoke any sense of wonder or even an enduring emotion. It’s light and fluffy and unsubstantial.
Like cotton candy.
Comments