Star Trek: Generations (2)

DVD, Star Trek: Generations (1994) film, In-Depth Review Part II

I can't imagine a better title for this film. Apt and fitting, combining a similar sound to the title of the series it sprang from, 'Star Trek: The Next Generation,' it says everything it needs to about the core of this film: family and the passing of time. It's about Picard's family line ending, the Enterprise-D family splitting up when their home for so many years is destroyed, the 'TOS' family losing their most important member, Soran doing everything he can to get a piece of his family back, even though it isn't real, and the different generations that have made up 'Star Trek' as a viewing experience coming together in the forms of Kirk and Picard to save millions of unsuspecting families on an unknown world.

Themes are an important part of the makeup of Trek, so a film without a strong theme becomes less true to the style that permeates all real Trek, I think. There are several strong themes in this film, from the passing of the baton to a new generation, in film terms, to the passing of time and the reminder to cherish life while you have it, which speaks to both the characters as their lives are changed, and the audience who have grown up with Kirk and the Enterprise-D, and are now there to see the ending of their stories.

The beginning seems an appropriate place to start. That ethereal music with the mysterious bottle floating through space is the best opening to any of the films because it's unexpected, builds anticipation and makes people that see it for the first time wonder. Wonderment is important to this film, as without it the Nexus may as well be a holodeck or a parallel world. The music builds to a climax that reveals the bulkhead of the Enterprise-B, rather than going for an all-out action opening as in James Bond teasers or 'Star Trek XI,' which work well, but aren't necessary for a great opening, one of the different choices of direction they made for this film.

They went as far as filming an impressive orbital sky-diving sequence to open the film, but the vision of the film pulled through and honed the entire piece almost to perfection, meaning such moments as this were extraneous. This is easiest to see if you read the novelisation which has all the deleted scenes and more, but also contains dialogue which hadn't been fully sculptured as it is in the final film so you both appreciate the extra material a book can provide, but also see how much went into crafting the lines for maximum impact in the finished film. I should say at this point that I have nothing negative to say about the film except for Data swearing (which was not big, and not clever, but childish and unnecessary to get a laugh), but one thing I noticed was how fast the names flash up on the screen. This was because there were more names than usual, so it was a necessity, but didn't fit in as well with the slow music.

To see the Enterprise-B was a joy. Some may complain that it's only the Excelsior refitted to save money instead of a new design, but it has its uniqueness, not least how it was lit by the Nexus, and there's a thrill inherent in the fact that it's Excelsior-class - Sulu's command has fathered a class of its own. That's not the only thing he's fathered, as Demora Sulu, his daughter, continues the tradition of a Sulu at the helm. After the smooth, strange opening the style becomes much more contemporary, with quick cuts and a flurry of reporters babbling questions as three legends come aboard. This whole scene is filled with nostalgia, yet also new hope for the future as another generation takes over. A negative for some is Captain Harriman who in the actor's own words (or similar) was played as an idiot.

Alan Ruck apparently came up with his own backstory to justify such a seemingly inexperienced fool taking over from Kirk, as a man who had an influential Father in Starfleet who got him the command, his nervousness coming from a desire to make his Dad proud and live up to the impossibly high expectations of being the next Kirk, made even tougher by the real Kirk's presence on his maiden voyage. One nitpick I can identify with is the B turning out to be the only ship in range of the transport ships caught in the energy ribbon. This happened again in the eleventh film, where you'd think the Solar System and Earth, the centre of the Federation, would be crawling with ships in better shape to take on a rescue mission than the unfinished Enterprise. I would suggest that there were probably lots of ships, but no heavyweight starships as big and tough as the B that could get there as quickly or do the job, and that's how I get around it in my own mind.

One of the things I love most about the scenes on the B is how Kirk and his friends are treated with a certain amount of awe, and are like living statues come down among mortals, yet the audience is allowed in on their private conversations as they poke fun at each other and laugh about the way they're treated. We're privileged to know them personally, much closer to them than the nervous, young crew who look up to them, but are ready to go out and make their own names. The interplay between all the characters is a pleasure and highlights one of the undeniable strengths of the film: the writing. It shouldn't be a surprise that Braga and Moore would get the 'TNG' cast down perfectly since they'd just finished writing the series finale, but they also manage the feat of making the voices of the older characters sound natural and true to their personas.

One thing I like most, and what I see as the most heroic choice Kirk makes in the entire film, even more than risking his life for 230 million people, is fighting himself. We see the way he wants to take control and let his experience take over, but he knows he mustn't undermine the Captain in front of his crew. The most poignant moment is when Harriman realises Kirk is the one to turn to and formally asks for his help, giving Kirk the chance he's been waiting for: to once again sit in the captain's chair. At that moment, just as Harriman is about to leave, he's halted by Kirk who realises his place is not the captain on the bridge any more, he shouldn't take from Harriman what he holds dear himself no matter how much he wants to. It is no longer his place to be in command of the ship and after a brief moment of temptation as he sits in the big chair once again, he pulls himself away from the reverie, much like he does from the Nexus, later in the film. It's one of the best moments and the strongest connection between the captain's of the Enterprise-A and -B.

It makes you wonder how history might have panned out if Harriman had been the one to end up in the Nexus. Would Picard have called on him to help against Soran? I don't imagine the good Captain would be a lot of use against the devious intelligence and vicious fighting skill of Dr. Soran, but I'm sure he would have done his best. What would his Nexus have been? A place where he was a confident, experienced captain, congratulated by his Father (who I imagine like Tom Paris' Father on 'Voyager')? The way everyone works together under Kirk, Scotty and Chekov shows that they could become the next big crew. Whether the B is the flagship of the Federation as the D later is, isn't mentioned, but the Enterprise name is always important.

One link that was not quite to be was Tuvok serving aboard her. Actor Tim Russ had already had a couple of roles as a terrorist and a Klingon in 'TNG' and 'DS9,' and would shortly go on to play the full-Vulcan Tuvok on 'Voyager,' so while he's only playing a human here, there's a thrill that he's the one interacting with Scotty and Kirk - a further connection to the generational theme. We know Tuvok was alive in that time period, since he was serving on the Excelsior, so it would have been really clever had they pre-empted his appearance on 'Voyager' here, but possibly too convoluted for the average audience and again, it would have taken attention away from the story. Chekov's connection with Guinan is another glorious bridging of the time gap, comforting her after her trauma. This scene introduced Soran very well, with the camera shaking and the distraught scientist desperately pleading and shouting to go back. It's interesting that the B wasn't rescuing the El Aurians, as they thought, but taking them away from paradise. Perhaps those on the other ship (the Robert Fox, named for an ambassador or official in 'TOS') didn't die, but were pulled in?

It's great to see Kirk jogging through the bowels of the ship, smoke pushing him back, the occasional jolt from the ribbon knocking him about, with that heroic, warrior-like fanfare playing behind it all. Kirk makes a heroic decision and takes the fall, but the saddest part is not so much his death as the fact his friends will never know what really happened. Those that survived into very old age in the 24th Century may have been told by Picard, but then again he may have kept Kirk's last stand quiet so that history would remain unamended after so long, perhaps it was right to allow Kirk the dignity of his legacy from the first act rather than colouring it with knowledge of his ultimate fate, which was almost a personal thing between him and Picard. I don't believe we ever hear anyone else refer to Kirk's real death in the 24th Century, so maybe Picard really didn't pass on the full account?

Just as I don't think there could have been a better choice of writers to write the characters they knew so well, I don't think they could have chosen a better Director for this film than David Carson; a Trek Director of good repute after such a spectacular pilot for 'DS9' and such memorable episodes of 'TNG' as 'Yesterday's Enterprise' and 'Redemption.' His sensibilities to 'Star Trek' were strong, yet he was also directing his first feature film and no doubt had plenty of ideas he wanted to try. Unlike Stuart Baird, the other English Director, he knew the subject matter so well, and it shows. A shot that stands out to me is Kirk's face lit by the criss-crossed illumination as he gives the bridge a green light to go, and then the terrible scene of Harriman with Scotty, when Chekov unknowingly charges in and asks if anyone was in there. Scotty's simple "Aye" is almost as poignant as his bag-pipe playing at Spock's funeral.

From this shocking and downbeat beginning we go 78 years into the future, where the film proper begins. But again, it's not what we expect: a sailing ship out on the ocean, calm blue waters under a cloudless sky provide a strong contrast with the previous scenes of space and technology, but there is a bridge linking the two parts, and that is nostalgia. The opening scenes were steeped in it, and now we see the 'TNG' crew revelling in a nostalgic reenactment of an even earlier age. It's such a wonderful touch for them to be on the first ever Enterprise, matching 'First Contact's' return to the dawn of warp travel, and giving us a breath of lightness and an excellent introduction to these characters appearing on film for the first time. The crew have not given up Starfleet for a career on the high seas of Earth, as much as it may appear that way, and the more astute will no doubt have guessed on their first viewing that this is a Holodeck recreation rather than the real thing, but it's a whimsical and charming way to introduce the characters to a film audience.

The cast have never looked better, especially in all their naval finery, but beyond the chance for good-humoured fun there is a purpose: to promote Worf to Lieutenant Commander. The whole sequence is strong, the humour comes through and Worf is a positive role model for Klingons in a film which mostly paints them as rowdy, brainless louts. Which many of them are, to be fair. Carson's directing keeps an epic story in scope, but, like Peter Jackson after him, he goes into the little details too, such as the close-up of Worf's feet edging along the plank, or later, in the Christmas tree ornaments or Picard skimming pebbles at Soran's forcefield. This style of incorporating fine detail into the bigger picture gives the those scenes more context and opens the film up to a higher level of care and reality. After reading up on the trivia of the film I noticed Worf's red knee for the first time, seen as he climbs back aboard after his unwanted dip. It was due to the ship's paint not having dried, apparently! And Troi gets to hand over the wheel to the real captain of the vessel, which is a nice touch.

Even amidst all this jollity, and the strong sense of this crew as a family, the news which knocks the air out of Picard injects a thorn of sadness to puncture the happy atmosphere, though fittingly only Troi, with her empathic abilities, notices. Another excellent detail is seen when Picard calls for the arch while crew-mates work beyond it, obviously holographic people, and the captain talks to them as he goes, continuing the illusion of the fantasy. This all stops as soon as he reads the message from Earth, and when he leaves abruptly we can see two perspectives - the ship's deck and the real Enterprise's corridors and real people walking past. It's all a show of strength, explaining how advanced this technology is, and playing tricks with the audience, much like Carson did in 'Emissary' where we first meet the Sisko's sitting by a lake which vanishes at the end of the scene since it, too, was a holoprogram.

Picard's tiredness and grief may have been easier to portray for Patrick Stewart at the time because it was the end of seven long years of work, then straight into making the film without a break. It's no wonder some of the cast look tired. The intense lighting shows every line and crack in sharp relief, most apparent in Brent Spiner's face. The scene in which Troi visits the captain and he falls apart, confiding in her the terrible news of the death of his brother and nephew in a fire is such a strong performance, without making him look weak. Indeed, he seems even stronger in the way he puts his grief aside professionally to deal with the Amargosa problem, even if he has become very abrupt and short-tempered. It reminded me of the episode 'Sarek' in which he suffers loss of emotional control after mind-melding with Spock's Dad. It's not quite as strong as that, but close.

This allowance for Picard's humanity to show through would be gradually stripped away through each film, so that he became more of a standard action hero. Some cite the fact that this film was merely a longer 'TNG' episode as a reason for disliking it, but they could never have achieved the incredible events on a TV budget, and even now to get all these things into a TV series would be a real stretch. What's the point of having a film based on a TV series if you aren't true to that style? The format has changed, sure, and the scope has become epic, but it needs to be true to itself, and that may be one reason why 'Nemesis' didn't do so well. By any measure this film was a box-office success, playing up to its format with more, and bigger sets, full-on action sequences that you want in a film for, but also the heart of 'TNG' and a host of references and ties that connect it so much more to the series than the other films did. If you think that's a mistake then maybe you should have checked your expectations: You want 'TNG' or not? If not, go and watch one of the 'Star Wars' films or a generic sci-fi/space film, because this is 'TNG' through and through, presented as a satisfying widescreen story.