Full Alert

DVD, Stargate SG-1 S8 (Full Alert)

We're back to the political skullduggery of past seasons of the series, except in this case ex-Vice President Kinsey actually ends up working for the SGC in an undercover capacity. Just as in the previous episode where they brought back Mayborn to kind of finish off his story, they do the same for the ageing, slimy, thorn in the side that was the SGC's most political opponent. And it appears he went out with a bang, presumably still aboard the alkesh belonging to The Trust, that group of ex-NID agents that were bent on destroying the Goa'uld through the use of poison, and the use of Osiris' old ship. Still with me? Actually, it's not too difficult to keep track as they do a better job of filling us in with the flashbacks than they used to, so the lore is a lot less impenetrable, especially if you've been watching along, in order. I was a bit confused about members of The Trust, which appeared to have been taken over by Goa'uld, just as they do to Kinsey, unless I missed something. Their big plan (whether that's The Trust's or some Goa'ulds'), is to start nuclear war between Russia and the US through ramping up suspicion on both sides that the other is compromised by Goa'uld intervention, all so they can wipe out humanity and nab the Ancient weapon in Antarctica (which keeps getting mentioned, in case you forgot it was the genesis for a spinoff series!). Of course, our heroes save the day and stop that from happening.

Although… how much did they really do? I liked the briefing scene where O'Neill sends Teal'c off on patrol aboard the Prometheus, Carter to work on a plan to detect the cloaked alkesh, and Daniel… well, he has to go and pick up his dry cleaning. It's a funny moment, but so true, because you have to remember that beyond being one of the leads in the TV series, he's just a mere archeologist, so he's not really the sort of person governments are going to send off on diplomatic assignments, and yet he's always been probably the most diplomatic of the gang and he gets to try out his skills on feisty Russian Captain Voronkova who he liaises with in Moscow, O'Neill sending him there to find out what's going on. It's good to see Dr. Jackson getting out and about, and doing something for the cause because it's easy to sideline him as some recent episodes have done. It's also encouraging that Richard Dean Anderson was fully featured, since O'Neill has a lot of pull with the President, and some on the Russian side: we get Colonel Chekov back again to help with the situation, which rapidly escalates to Defcon 3, then 2, meaning imminent global warfare is likely. I'm not sure the tension of the situation is all that strong, mainly because you know they're not going to actually have at it and release nuclear warheads. Not unless they were going to turn it into a very different series from what it was, with the SGC a survivor organisation trying to carry on after mutually assured destruction had ripped the world apart. They're probably in the best location for such an eventuality as they can hop through the Stargate for pastures new!

It's always nice to see Jack's house, which is where the episode begins, Kinsey having invited himself in to relay the message of what The Trust want him to do, and of course his own vengeful nature is aroused by their betrayal of him, losing him the Vice-Presidency, as Jack notes. I was never a big fan of the character, he was always nothing but trouble, and he was never going to be self-aware enough to redeem himself for his selfish, power-hungry actions, so I don't mind if this is the last we see of him, but they don't usually leave it so vague. There are, after all, rings on the alkesh, so it's possible he transported himself away to Earth before its destruction. The episode has one of those unsatisfying endings where there's barely time for them even to say it's over and things are okay, where I prefer an epilogue, perhaps a briefing scene to confirm Kinsey's destruction in their belief, and what the ramifications of near nuclear war are. It was a simple case of a rogue Russian general controlled by a Goa'uld, so it's not like it was anyone's fault, but in the real world even an incident like that would breed suspicion, doubt and distrust, sowing the seeds for breakup between the superpowers, so it'll be interesting to see if there are any aftereffects of the events of this episode, or if it's all glossed over and forgotten. The politics had never been a favourite of mine, I much prefer the alien politics and discoveries, but at least this is a four-man team episode. O'Neill isn't out in the field, but he's heavily involved throughout, and we get to see Kinsey work for the SGC (much to his disgust and irritation),  and some espionage stuff going on, which was fun, as well as all the main cast making a worthwhile contribution.

**

The Corbomite Maneuver

DVD, Star Trek S1 (The Corbomite Maneuver)

This was the true inauguration of the series. Forget 'The Man Trap,' that only got its place through being selected as the first to be broadcast, in a ridiculous schedule that had the pilot, 'Where No Man Has Gone Before,' not shown until around the third week of the series' run. If you look at the 'Star Trek Chronology,' the great work of the Okudas that gives us what I consider a definitive timeline for Trek's future, it puts 'The Corbomite Maneuver' in the premier slot as it should be, since it was the first of the series proper to be produced, and as such represents the development from the completely different cast of original pilot 'The Cage,' and the waypoint between pilots and series that the second pilot, 'Where No Man…' gave us. Good, now that we've got that cleared up, let me say that it's also worthwhile watching earlier than 'The Man Trap' because it's a better episode, as I recall, and an archetypal example of the series pretty much at its best. There remain the last vestiges of the pilots' alternate style (more on which later), but for the most part this was true, familiar 'Star Trek.' And it must have been quite a sight for those who'd bought a colour TV for the first time, with its brimming, roiling displays of colour in stark contrast to the blandness of 'Where No Man…' and even turning it up compared to 'The Cage' - for the first time we have redshirts (Mr. Leslie, or one of him, sits unobtrusively on the bridge, while we also see another shot of him in the corridors wearing blue, the beginning of speculation about Leslie brothers, and how many there are! Lt. Hadley also appears on Bridge and in corridor), most gratifyingly represented by Scotty; there're coloured lights all over the place, the ship a vibrant place to visit.

Other major pieces of the lore fall into place, with Uhura (wearing gold, which makes more sense when you think about it, though she doesn't stand out quite so much), making her debut at Communications, earpiece in place; Spock's blue-lit viewer; Sulu at his helm; Scott referred to as Scotty; and best of all, Dr. McCoy, with a full examination of the main part of Sickbay, thanks to Kirk's fitness exam. We get evidence of the kind of character this third doctor of the Enterprise holds, more interested in his Captain's health than in strict adherence to regulation, deliberately ignoring the red light of alert which is visible to him, but which Jim is oblivious to, and like previous doctors, isn't afraid to do what he thinks best. We even get a return to the bartender role of Dr. Boyce when McCoy pours Jim a drink in the Captain's quarters. And 'Jim' it is, denoting a casualness in friendship towards the Captain, something Spock displays in equal measure, although at this stage it's still Kirk and Spock, or Kirk and McCoy, they're not a triumvirate yet (DeForest Kelley even relegated to the stands of the end credits along with the rest of the 'guest' cast).

Interestingly, rather than explore the main characters, we get a more contemporary angle as we see an arc for one-shot guest character Navigator Bailey, a young, fresh addition to the crew whom McCoy feels Kirk pushes too hard, but which the Captain believes can take it. He goes from nervous rookie to losing his cool in the face of impending death, to facing up to his fears before they come to pass, rewarded by an order to accompany the Doctor and Kirk over to the alien ship. Even more interestingly, this arc is what gives the episode its heart - we can understand how he feels as we're not heroes like these other space-going people, and how would we react in such a situation? Bailey's wild inability to accept the end causes much embarrassment, but it only serves to impress when, during the countdown by Balok, in the last few seconds he returns to the Bridge to resume his station having been ordered to leave during his meltdown. It's a simple device, but it makes the crew a warm, living and breathing entity and, if it weren't for the fact that Bailey's arc had a satisfyingly final conclusion, it would have been a shame he wasn't a recurring figure on the series.

His story gets the ultimate happy ending, however, when Balok, this fearsome entity intent on destroying them for no other reason than the offence they've caused, is revealed, rather like the Wizard of Oz, to be, not a charlatan without any power, but something quite different to what he seemed, and a detente is immediate, resulting in Bailey's posting to the little alien's scout ship for a cultural exchange programme. Balok was a continuation of the first pilot's intent in creating weird and wonderful alien creatures, something avoided in the second pilot. The puppet Balok uses to unnerve the crew via viewscreen (the vastly improved rectangular variety, with those lights pinging horizontally along below which would be a staple of every Bridge viewscreen from then on), was an excellent design and like the 'green girl,' would also be seen in the end credits to become one of the most iconic images of the series, an image I can remember fascinating me as a child. In the actual episode the puppet can't be disguised as anything more than it was, in spite of Balok's rippling visual effect on the screen - the stiff, wooden movement of the head and eyes gave the game away, but it doesn't matter in this case because it really was a puppet, not a badly designed creature that failed to work. You can excuse the Enterprise crew for not seeing through the ruse due to the threat of death they were under, and the amazing things they'd already seen.

Even to my eyes today, the Fesarius, Balok's ship, is an incredible effect, a pulsing sphere made up of those models you get in school science lessons which represent neutrons and electrons circling atoms, except these expand to enormous proportions to fill the screen and dwarf the starship confronting it. Much more imaginative and alien than producing another model and putting the Enterprise up against that, and you believe in its power by comparison. The First Federation must truly be a gigantic body of great influence and magnitude. Except, like the later concept of Section 31, it could just as well be a figment of this little alien's imagination, all we have are the tricks and deceptions of one man, and though it's likely both Section 31 and this Federation are genuine organisations (in Section 31's case some of the mystery was lost for me when we saw evidence of it in both 'Enterprise' and 'Star Trek Into Darkness' as it was open to interpretation during Sloan's episodes, as a one-man band, something that was awe-inspiring and fascinating), we never heard of The First Federation again, and if Balok could deceive so easily, then who's to say the rest of what he said was truthful?

Clint Howard as the actual alien was a return to an idea from 'The Cage' - instead of doing the obvious, and having a man in a suit to create alienness, you have a human, then present them in a way that isn't normal: before, it was women with men's voices, now it's a child with a man's voice, and not only that, but a bald head as round as Charlie Brown's. Howard, brother of the more famous Director, Ron Howard, would go on to be in two more Trek series ('DS9' and 'Enterprise'), which gives his role here another slice of interest, and makes me want to open a business under the name of his characters: Balok, Grady & Muk. The child actor carries the role off very well, not just by use of the dubbing to give him a deep, echoey voice, but in his body language, the way he portrays confidence among established adult actors, yet also has a childlike joy when he guffaws. It's only a short (excuse the pun), performance at the end of the episode, but it certainly is memorable, and although the inside of his scout shows the production couldn't afford anything, reduced to hanging drapes as a solution, it also shows the creative use of budget and imagination they were able to call upon. The low ceiling and door are immediately alien, and while it might have been better to have the Landing Party go through one curtain when Balok invites them to a tour, and leave it at that, instead of wandering around behind the set to use up running time, it's a nice, positive way to end the episode, ironic that in the first to feature all three main characters, it bucks the trend for a jovial tag scene on the Bridge.

For the first time we hear the bing-bongs of the opening credits, and the bold mission statement spoken by Captain Kirk. That mission is reinforced during the episode when Kirk reminds his crew that they're out there to seek out and contact alien life, and that this incident is a chance to put their high-sounding words into practice, something very much like Picard would have said, so perhaps the historical view of the series as being gung-ho and full of cowboy diplomacy wasn't entirely accurate, and there was a level of enlightenment in that era akin to that of the 24th Century, after all. It's not like we see Kirk getting into a fistfight with Balok - for one thing it would have been over pretty quick, unless the little guy had more tricks up his sleeve, perhaps like the opening to 'Star Trek Beyond' a herd of his miniature people would appear out of the shadows and hurl themselves on the unsuspecting Captain, overwhelming him by sheer numbers (seen on this series in 'Miri' when he gets attacked by children!). Kirk is shown at his best in this episode, a respected leader, carrying authority, but not shoving it down people's throats. He's strong (Bailey's all for blowing the probe out of their path, but Kirk doesn't indulge him and shows who's boss), and not just physically, as he demonstrates in the tests McCoy makes him go through. He's hard on Bailey, who doesn't react as a trained officer should, but gives him another chance and rewards him. He listens to his crew, reassures them in a ship-wide address on the comm after Balok's threat has rung through the entire ship, and he bravely faces destruction without losing cool.

For the first time we see another of his abilities: that of standing up to bullies. In his first appearance, 'Where No Man…,' he showed his persuasive tongue to urge Dehner to go against Mitchell, and in this, after going through all the channels of diplomacy, offering apologies, requesting friendly relations, and ultimately respecting Balok's wishes and choosing to leave rather than antagonise him further, only when he's pushed into a corner with no other alternative than to attack, does he do so. And when that proves ineffective he pulls one last reserve tactic, a brilliant poker analogy when all else is lost, tempers are frayed keeping stern control when anarchy, at least from Bailey's corner, might be forthcoming, and inventing a new substance within his ship, the Corbomite of the title, to threaten the alien with destruction if the Enterprise is attacked. It's a brilliant, spur of the moment intuition, and it works, Balok backs down. He says it was a test when they meet him, but I'm not sure what threatening a race with their death would prove. That they can die with dignity? That they won't use force unless it's a last resort? Or was it Kirk's grasp of the poker play that impressed Balok? Come to think of it, I don't remember him ever being told that Corbomite was an imaginary substance, so maybe it was the invention of such a weapon that made him so conciliatory? Or simply that Kirk came to rescue him, despite his actions against them?

If Spock had been Captain, who knows what the result would have been, because, like Tuvok in 'Twisted,' he basically advises inaction because there's nothing left to do: when a game of chess reaches checkmate, the game is over, he says. It shows how blind one-track, logic-fuelled mentality can be, because Kirk doesn't see it as chess, he changes the game to poker - it's a Kobayashi Maru test that has no apparent solution, so his choice is to change the entire setup, and it's this thinking outside the box which sets Kirk up as such a great Captain, quite apart from his charisma and charm. That's what makes the episode work, it's not about some of the other archetypal Trek elements such as romantic interludes, punch-ups or comedy, it's in the 'Balance of Terror' category: a submarine episode, with all the scenes happening on vessels in space, no beaming down to studio-set planets or the great outdoors, it's a mental battle. It's intelligent, scientific in the way they talk about things (such as discussing the oxygen content in the air on the smaller ship, before they beam over), there are adult conversations such as the one between Kirk and McCoy in the Turbolift about Bailey being promoted too fast. Even the Yeoman is confident and far from cowed by her Captain, in this one.

Yeoman Rand pops up only occasionally to bring the Captain his dinner (a healthy salad, as instructed by McCoy who feels Kirk needs to improve in that area - that shows how much equals they are that the doc is quite happy to meddle with the man's meals), or, in a more important scene on the Bridge, brings coffee. This might seem demeaning to modern eyes, but the fact that Rand has the ingenuity to use a phaser to heat the coffee when power to the galley (yes, they definitely mentioned galley, in a rare reference in Trek, pre-'Enterprise'), is down, and that she has the presence of mind to do that when the whole ship is threatened with destruction and everyone knows it, systems taken down throughout, shows both bravery and practicality in her character, an ideal combination for someone who serves the Captain. If it's her role to keep the Captain running, then she's doing an excellent job. The blonde beehive is another visual stamp of 'TOS,' so it's nice to see her appear so early, and means (aside from the Season 2 character, Chekov), all the main cast appear, except for Nurse Chapel.

In terms of the other parts of Trek that we expect to see, there are a lot of those, but not everything is yet firmly tied down. The biggest must be Spock's characterisation: he continues the shouting of orders from the pilots, and even smirks at the Captain, but we're also seeing him become tied to his heritage - he mentions logic, and what it does for him; his quality of calmness and being completely unperturbed at Balok's imminent threat, more interested in sating his scientific curiosity about what their enemy looks like. And his reaction to the humans around him, such as hypocritically telling Bailey it's unnecessary of him to raise his voice, and hinting that humanity is a part of him, too, when he says Balok reminds him of his Father, then qualifies this statement by saying that his Mother felt she was a fortunate Earth woman. It's a big thing to drop in the middle of an episode, and it also ties into the scarring between he and his Father which would play into later episodes and films, so it's surprising that this early in the development it was touched on. It's a good job he does admit to a human heritage because from Kirk's talk it sounds like Earth is the centre of their world - when talking with Balok he talks of Earth people, rather than the Federation of Planets, or Starfleet. These terms hadn't yet been nailed down in production, but neither are they directly contradicted as Kirk could have been simplifying matters, especially as his ship appears to be made up purely of humans (and we'd hear in later episodes of ships crewed entirely by Vulcans, so it had to be a standard practice).

The episode gives us the impression that the rough corners have been smoothed off, and while the shape is still blocky, it's the recognisable one that we know so well. Saying that, there are still remnants of its unfinished natural development: the uniforms are almost the ones we know, three department colours, black collars, but zips can still be seen where shoulders meet neck, and there are no more trousers for the female characters. Kirk requesting department heads to the Bridge is just like in 'Where No Man…' except it's not so obvious who is and who isn't: McCoy is said to be Life Sciences head of department, Scotty is clearly the Engineering head (which still incorporates Transporter systems, along with an asian Transporter assistant, though a different one to the pilots), but is Uhura a head? Is anyone else? The sets get a good outing, with the Bridge as we know it, all sign of the 'desk lamps' gone, nor do they reappear in the Captain's quarters - instead, Kirk has a computer monitor that wouldn't have looked out of place in a 1990s house, impressive given the size and look of computers in the 1960s. There's a lot more texture, to both characters and the ship they inhabit. The corridors continue to feature hordes of people, they're wide and long, and colourful too. The Turbolift has handles at last, there's a new Briefing Room complete with Tri-screen display, and even a 'condition alert' is sounded, though not specified at Red or Yellow (the lights blink red). Kirk uses the wall comms in the Turbolift, and his chair to make announcements, the monitor in his quarters for visual communication.

They pack it all in so quick you have to pay attention if you're looking out for all the stuff that makes up this world. We see evidence of then-futuristic technology, again like the 1990s, where everyone carries little plastic floppy disks to the briefing. And we get stock shots (Sulu turning round to look at the Captain with the viewscreen in shot, would be used many times on the series), or the patented Trek roll when the ship's attack. It's not extreme yet, and actually, there's more of the subtle juddering the cast carry off excellently, than full-bodied acrobatics, but we certainly see the results of less than perfect gravity nets in these old ships (not that it was any better in the later ones), especially in the corridors where a bunch of crew, some in odd off-duty clothing, which made me wonder if they were travelling merchants along for the ride, flying from one side to the other! There's even a variation on the McCoy favourite "I'm a Doctor, not a…", though it's not quite there yet as he asks if he's a Doctor or a moon shuttle conductor. And there are the references to literary fiction which elevate the series a little, showing its intelligence, and in this case, recognising its science fiction forebears when Balok talks of his puppet as being the Hyde to his Jekyll.

The cheesiness of the effects rears its head just a little, not so much in the actual image of the spinning cube probe which confronts the Enterprise, which looked fantastic and alien all at once, but in the way the drama is delivered through the ship turning to avoid it, then the same shape coming back into the centre of the viewscreen. This makes it a bit simplistic and there's no sense of scale or place, but on the other hand there are some pretty closeups of the Enterprise, and as I said before, the Fesarius and its scout ship look as good as ever, probably better than many a design on the series. What comes through more than anything else is that this isn't schlocky sci-fi, monster-of-the-week stuff (like 'The Man Trap'?), but dedicated, world building, reality based drama between people. The crew are like a family, there's less of a barrier between them and the Captain than there was with Pike, yet Kirk retains his leadership, and when he shows confidence in Bailey it's inspirational and encouraging. In all, a typical Trek episode about trying to overcome the natural impulses of fear and revulsion, a professional ship of adventurers journeying into the unknown. It doesn't stop being tense because the drama slows, a bit like 'The Motion Picture,' to gaze at the viewscreen, and it gives us strong character creations right away, or it would have been right away if they hadn't had two attempts to iron out the concept. Third time was the charm, setting the series on the course it would take into the future for far, far longer than it could ever have imagined.

***

It's Good To Be King

DVD, Stargate SG-1 S8 (It's Good To Be King)

Mayborn had felt like a loose end that could be pulled on again at any time should they think of a story - he'd been in the series too long for us never to see him again after he'd been dropped off by the Tok'ra on a suitable planet (not that I remembered that's what happened to him, but they remind us in the episode), so I was pleased to see him part of it again, engineered in a believable way: the System Lords are failing against Baal and the Kull Warriors (the first time they actually called them by name on the series?), and the various surviving examples (such as Yu), are scouting out previously abandoned planets to use for sanctuary (though that plan didn't seem too thought through - what difference does it make which planet they go to if they're all going to be hunted down and destroyed?), and one of those planets on the hit list, according to the Tok'ra (whom we don't actually see - I want Jacob back!), is where Mayborn was holed up. Naturally, with a title like that, and with a planet of innocent natives for his wily ways to dominate, he's become king, which is how the SG-1 team discover him: Arkon The First. As ever, he's happy to see them, because, like Gul Dukat on 'DS9,' he's deluded enough to believe that he's actually good friends with them, and that they really feel the same way in return. Okay, he's not as deluded as all that, but he'd have made a good Cardassian, what with his sneaky ways and tendency to deal with anything that stands in the way of his survival and greed.

Except, for once he's found something to dedicate his life to, something that rewards him with many perks of kingship, but which has actually got through to him so that he genuinely cares for the folk he governs - I was still expecting a double-cross all the way through. For me, the best moment in the entire episode is when he's forced by O'Neill to admit to the people his true nature, and where the prophecies came from. He's all ready to stand down, give up on them and head off into the Stargate with SG-1, knowing he's not worthy to be their king. But then one of his loyal servants speaks up and she asks him if the plans for the new water mill came from the same place as the prophecies, or the legal system, or any number of other improvements he made to their society, and it's such a warm moment as you realise that even though he was a fraud in one way, he had brought a lot to these people and rather than being outraged at his audacity and guile, they still want to celebrate what he did for them. Not to mention that it was due to him that the prophecies were made known, since none of them could read Ancient. It's touching, especially when your mind is on the track that he can't go on being their king, he's unworthy, he's unsuitable, he's… Harry Mayborn! But it also showed that he'd finally found a place for himself, where all his sleazy, underhand, selfish dealings over the years had failed. And it's wonderful to see such a disreputable, yet likeable character find redemption.

So the prophecies do all come true, and Mayborn remains king, and, presumably, the SGC recovers a vital component in Ancient technology: the ship capable of time-travel which was the prophecies' origin in the first place: one of the Ancients travelled into the future using this ship, saw everything that happened, then carved it out two hundred years before the episode. Does that mean he/she/it was watching the events unfold during this episode from some vantage point we know nothing about? How did the ship remain in the current time, does that mean the Ancient died on the planet, or was it killed somehow after finishing all that chiselling (raw deal!), leaving the prophecies and its ship to while away the time until the present? And for what purpose did it carry out this study, for the benefit of the Tare, or the people on the planet, or were they merely a side beneficiary? Many questions go unanswered, and that's probably for the best in terms of a short term story like this, but I'd have liked to know more. I was surprised to find Mayborn possessed about as much knowledge of the Ancients' language as Daniel, since he was able to decipher it, and as is always the case with TV episodes it was farfetched to have us believe that events of hundreds of years were foretold mainly on one stone pillar which didn't have that much surface area, or that Mayborn wouldn't have made a note of every prophecy there which Daniel could have read. Maybe he did, but just didn't tell them about it, always keeping his cards close to his chest, and perhaps there were many more pillars like that?

One of the best things about the episode is that we get a proper SG-1 team-up like the old days when General O'Neill (apart from being necessary for the age-old oneupmanship between him and Mayborn, and their dysfunctional enmity couched in irritated banter), joins the gang on the planet as he's got Ancient DNA within him that will enable him to activate their technology. I didn't remember that revelation before, although obviously I did recall that he was able to operate the Ancient tech which gave them the way to Atlantis at the beginning of the season. I was instantly thinking of Daniel, since he'd previously ascended, but what does it matter, the fine details has never been the most interesting thing on the series, it's the characters, so it was a joy to take us back to that almost forgotten time when the SG-1 team roamed the galaxy in all its four-man/woman glory. Teal'c too, gets a nice moment when the First Prime of Ares ends up fighting him, paid the greatest tribute when this guy gets some kind of honour, or has some respect for him out of Teal'c killing him, saying as he dies, "You are a man of your word."

The Ancient ship was a great idea, one I hope will be used to full potential in future, in other words they'll use it for time travel, because that hasn't been something the series has delved into much, and when they did, it could be some of their better stories ('1969' is one of my all-time favourites). It looked a bit like a shuttle from 'Star Trek,' even down to the ramp at the back that folds up into a door, and a couple of warp nacelles (or their equivalent), on either side. It must be increasingly difficult to come up with an original design or even an original aesthetic when there have been so many sci-fi TV and films over the years, so it's inevitable that elements will be borrowed. The interior set was suitably advanced, especially those padded seats and the mind-activated controls. Mind you, the sets were high quality, with the castle, though clearly not a building on location, and a little cramped where Mayborn's throne sat, must have been a large undertaking. We're introduced to it with a beautifully sweeping crane shot (which would probably be done by drone these days), dropping down over the walls - you can see from the pale shadows that it's indoors, but the 'period' detail and crowd help to sell it, and we do get plenty of exterior shooting, too. I wished Daniel had more to do in an episode all about Ancients' technology since he should be the one to go gooey about it all, and it would have been nice to get more scenes featuring the four of them together, but otherwise it was a fine journey back in time to when simple planet stories were the order of the day, and a fitting conclusion to Mayborn's story, if it is to be so.

***

Where No Man Has Gone Before

DVD, Star Trek S1 (Where No Man Has Gone Before)

I need to explain where I stand. I think it's ridiculous to watch 'The Original Series' in broadcast order, because it makes no sense to begin with 'The Man Trap' and hop around as they did on original transmission. Far more sense to view in production order, and that's what I always do. This was the second of two pilots for the series, the first having been rejected on the argument it was too cerebral and needed more action, but I sometimes wonder if I'm missing something, because to me 'The Cage' is much more the engaging, action-packed story, 'Where No Man Has Gone Before' a lot more plodding, but probably cheaper since they reused the sets from the previous pilot and remained mostly within them. It's a development towards the actual series, but still marks a transitionary stepping stone between the style of 'Cage,' and that of the series. The uniforms are the same subdued pastel colours, but I didn't remember the noticeable zips all over the place before. The ship is much the same, except the mini TV communicators that look like reading lamps had been stripped back a bit to some of the consoles and the Captain's chair, Kirk using it for announcements and possibly for the Captain's log. And obviously, Spock is more Spock-like and Kirk makes his debut in the centre position.

Things still aren't quite right, and seeing this episode again, I felt it doesn't hold up nearly so well as 'Cage,' or many a 'TOS' episode. It's the standard length, but it feels long, there's too much reliance on the guest stars, making the Captain less of the focus this time, yet still not infusing the story with an ensemble feel. 'TOS' never was an ensemble, it had two main stars, William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy, with DeForest Kelley eventually getting third billing. Yet both pilots are careful to build up a small section of the crew, usually younger characters, which could well have been given an episode centred around them as the later, more sophisticated series' did. Both pilots have a slightly awkward Yeoman for the Captain (the one in this, Smith, barely gets a line and mainly stands too close to the Captain, or holds Gary Mitchell's hand as they approach the barrier at the edge of the galaxy), both feature old Doctors, and both have a more emotional Spock than we're used to. At least in this one they do begin to concede to his alien attitudes, with him claiming he doesn't experience emotion, and that all he knows is logic, though his pacifist tendencies hadn't been added, as he's quite comfortable dishing out a punch when the need arises, carrying one of those 'hand lasers' from 'Cage,' and ordering a Phaser Rifle (the first mention of Phaser in Trek), from Scott to be used in an emergency against Mitchell!

In his first scene with Kirk, it's telling the pair are enjoying a game of tridimensional chess in (presumably), the rec room, rather than showing us the Bridge at full operation, Pike in the chair and the busy grind of starship life in full flow, as 'Cage' began. Here, we're introduced more gently, with a bit of banter to show how alien Spock is, not just displaying upswept eyebrows, a bowl cut and very pointed ears: he smiles at Kirk, commenting on human emotions, and I wondered if this was a card he played with each new Captain he worked under, to keep them off balance? They must have been aboard for a little while at least to be familiar enough to play a game, and Dr. Dehner claims Spock worked with Gary for years - I imagine that until fairly recently Pike had remained in command, with Mitchell serving under Pike with Spock, then Kirk has come to take over, perhaps after a layover of a few months or a year, although this is all purely speculative since we're never given concrete details. Spock shows some derision toward humanity, even noting that 'one of his ancestors' married a human female - either he was being absurdly nonspecific about his own Father, or he was deliberately keeping Kirk in the dark about how close to humans he really was! In reality they hadn't decided he was half human with a human Mother… Oddly, after wearing blue in 'Cage' Spock sports the gold command top and insignia, even though he's said to be science officer - maybe there weren't enough blue shirts to go around, what with Sulu, Dehner and Dr. Piper all in blue?

Only two other familiar characters make their debut with Kirk: Scott and Sulu, the first head of Engineering, naturally, the latter of Astro Sciences, with Dr. Piper replacing Dr. Boyce as department head of Life Sciences. None of them get a whole lot to do, but it is fun spotting these faces that would go on to be so strongly linked to Trek, while the third was completely forgotten. It's not that Piper is a bad character, he's just not written with much conviction, partly the fault of Dr. Dehner's starring role diluting his position (and being much more arresting, like a sixties version of Seven of Nine), compared to the old guy, and that he doesn't have much of a demonstrable friendship with his Captain as Boyce did with Pike. They're on first name basis, with Kirk calling him Mark when he's explaining he has to go after Mitchell and Dehner, but the friend of the Captain role is reserved partly for Spock, and also for Gary. I can't see Kirk's matey friendship with Gary lasting the course of their serving together - even before Gary gets changed into a powerful being I got a sense that he saw Kirk as an equal and it might have been difficult for him to follow his orders, eventually souring on each other. Spock has a much more promising connection to the Captain, not shying away from making hard observations and giving Kirk a tough decision to make on whether he will kill Gary or strand him for the safety of the ship and crew.

You can see the gaping hole, that missing piece that McCoy would fill, most notably in the final scene, very subdued and low key compared to most humorous end sequences. This is understandable for all that Kirk had just gone through, losing his best friend in a fight to the death, as well as a talented young Doctor and others of his crew, so it would have rung false to have him laugh long and loud. But he can have a little dig at Spock, who admits to feeling for Gary, and Kirk says there's some hope for Spock, but without McCoy it doesn't sit right. Spock is far from being unemotional and McCoy would have had a field day if he'd been around for this adventure: the Vulcan shouts a lot, and perhaps Nimoy was imagining, or had been told, that a lot of background noise and effects were going to be added so he needed to make himself heard, but when he's giving orders he's very strident and loud. You could say, as he probably would, that he wasn't being emotional but was simply raising his voice to ensure his orders were carried out, but regardless McCoy's homely presence and warmth of feeling was needed to fill the void.

The episode is also rather bland compared to the technicolor delights of 'Cage,' not helped by the uniforms which suited the previous episode down to the ground, but here, seen so much against bland walls on the Enterprise, fail to raise the wearers from their background. Even the matte, an effective image of the cracking station on Delta-Vega, while impressive, is merely functional, not inspirational as those in 'Cage' were. The Bridge Viewscreen is curved and ugly, the uniforms don't exactly fit right on most of the characters, probably because they were made for those in 'Cage,' and weirdly there are two shades of command gold, unless it was designed to be a different department, (red shirts still missing). We get the dark blue, the gold, and an oatmeal, porridgy variation. Piper gets to foreshadow Dr. Crusher's medical lab coat with a shorter jacket over his blue shirt during the Sickbay scenes, but that's about the most interesting development clothing-wise! That and Kirk getting his shirt ripped for the first time in what would become a running gag, except it was never for laughs, usually at a serious fight scene, but has gone down in history as a laughable trope. In reality it was merely a symbol that this Captain loves to get down and dirty, gets stuck in and doesn't waver.

The episode, especially early on, is carried by Kirk's confidence and feels slick and fast, best shown by the throwaway Turbolift scene where Kirk, Spock and Mitchell enter, ride it and exit onto the Bridge in a fluid motion that is the forefather of so many clever effects and use of sets - we don't even think about it, but they had to cut away or move the set to achieve that reality (still no handles in there, though!). If the episode, the look and some of the characters are a bit bland in comparison to what came before, they struck gold with Shatner, who replaced Jeffrey Hunter as Captain, after the actor decided not to return. He really shines as James R. Kirk– wait, whoa, hold up… James R. Kirk? It's arguably the biggest gaffe in Trek history (to rival Khan recognising the previously absent Chekov in 'Star Trek II'), when Gary magics a headstone into existence with that middle initial, when everyone knows he was James T. Kirk! The non-canon books long ago made it into an insult or an inside joke from Mitchell's and Kirk's backstories, and I can buy that, although, as in many things, it was a case of the fine details not being bolted down at this point, with room for manoeuvre. They didn't have a strong concept of canon and keeping things to a specific set of rules and facts, but things would become a lot more cleaner as the series progressed.

Though there are a lot of things about the episode I'm not as enamoured with, Kirk comes fists first, fully formed, shouting into existence, taking on the heavy mantle of Captain with aplomb, whether that be facing the threat of the galactic barrier (he doesn't do things by halves - his first episode and already he wants to leave the galaxy!), the possibility of having to kill his friend, or taking responsibility for that act personally so no more of his crew will be hurt, and if there's any way to save Mitchell you can bet he'll try to find it. It's not just his bravery and resolve that impress, but he gives us the first taste of the famous powers of persuasion that reduced many a false god or mechanical dictator to exploding logic circuits. This time it's Dehner, the ESP expert who, like Gary, has turned and continued to turn, into a silver-eyed godlike being of unknown power and magnitude. He fires shot after shot at her, verbally pounding her, exhorting her to remember being human and to be that way for a moment more, ultimately managing to convince her of the wrongness of Gary's attitudes to compassion and humility and using her power to distract him enough for Kirk to finish the job. It's a top finale, much stronger than the ending to 'Cage,' which folded quietly away. This goes out all guns (and fingers), blazing, and it is this final impression I have to assume was what swayed the decision to go to series.

There are plenty of other attractions: the history, for one. Just as in 'Cage' we dealt with the remains of an older vessel (although that was only eighteen years from the past), we find a beacon from the SS Valiant 200 years before their time. Since this is supposed to be the 23rd Century we can say the couple of centuries was a rough guide to its age, otherwise that would put it in the 21st Century, and though we know that warp vessels will be capable by the middle of that century (this century!), I'm not sure how accurate it would be to suggest it was a starship. There's also some date manoeuvring needed with Gary's love sonnet, as he states it was written back in 1996 and is one of the most passionate love sonnets of the past couple of centuries! The writers could never have conceived that the series would still be watched in 1996, thirty years later, and in fact would actively celebrate that anniversary with two special episodes from the crew's of TV shows being made then, and a third crew in a film! But again, we can take Gary's reference with a pinch of salt, and say he was referring to the two centuries before the one they're in.

Gary Mitchell could have been a much more interesting character, especially if we'd seen more of his buddying with Kirk - as it is we get to hear about how Kirk saved his life recently, and that Mitchell aimed a 'little blonde lab technician' at him, Kirk saying he almost married her. Could it have been Carol Marcus, creator of the Genesis weapon in 'Star Trek II' (the alternate version of which appeared in 'Star Trek Into Darkness')? It's well within the realms of possibility. We also hear Mitchell describe his academy friend as 'a stack of books on legs,' giving the lie to the Abramsverse depiction of Kirk as a hell-raiser who was brilliant, but scraped through with an attitude, rather than being a studied and conscientious graduate. Talking of the Abramsverse films, after the first one I was so convinced the villain of the second would be Gary Mitchell (they released a list of famous villains and said that one on the list would be used), I almost wrote it down and put it in an envelope so I could ceremoniously open it to the amazement of my associates. I'm glad I didn't, because it was embarrassing being lied to about Khan being the actual villain, but Mitchell as a cool guy, bantering older brother type would have been perfect for that alternate Kirk to deal with, something I could imagine vividly in that universe. Oh well.

For the first time we get a teaser as this pilot is more like a standard episode, clocking in at around forty-eight minutes, which for 'TOS' was pretty normal, though it didn't have the tensest of cliffhangers before the opening credits: the Valiant's beacon, described as a flight recorder, starts flashing so Kirk puts all decks on alert! At least we get the official font used for the title, though there is no 'These are the voyages…' opening monologue, and the theme tune sounds slightly different (the memorable use of clips from episodes in the end credits began here, with the Orion slave woman taking the end spot, though I think there's only about three episodes from which clips are taken - either they didn't want to give away too much or the sequence was created early in production when few had been completed). We get our first on screen episode title as would continue until the end of 'Enterprise' in 2005 (and hopefully with 'Discovery' in 2017). Other familiar tropes making their debut are the exploding consoles that deal out as much damage to the crew as an enemy, though in this case no one was hurt. There wasn't even any of the staple rolling around as they experienced severe turbulence approaching the galactic barrier - at least we get the familiar camera shake! The huge communicators continue to be used, what looked like the immortal redshirt, Mr. Leslie, was first seen (in blue at the cracking station), and as well as the Bridge and corridor sets (if a more detailed version with piping and coloured decorations), returning from 'Cage,' we also get the Briefing Room in the first pilot's style.

The theme of godlike beings was a recurring one for Trek pilots, as not only does the Talosians' attitude of amusement and underestimation at the lower form of life that is humanity get transferred to Gary, but having to deal with such entities continued in every pilot ('TNG' featured Q putting humanity on trial, 'DS9' had Sisko encountering the mystical Prophets, 'Voyager' dealt with an all-powerful caretaker of a planet, and 'Enterprise' guest-starred the never-to-be-revealed mystery man, Future Guy - will 'Discovery' buck this trend?). Gary's one of the worst in his rapid alteration into a man with powers to instantaneously transform barren rock (another 'Cage' set reused to good effect), into a blooming garden of paradise, although my personal favourite trick was the hovering 'force pull' move to bring his cup to him, Kirk grabbing it out of the air when he sends it away again, and I couldn't see any strings! His abilities make him arrogant and callous, claiming morals are for men, not gods (forgetting all about The Ten Commandments, and that God gave us morals in the first place!). The battle is really within Kirk over whether he can bring himself to kill what has become of his friend, and he goes for it full throttle when it comes down to it, denoting a strong resolve.

There were a lot less of the impressive visuals than 'Cage,' but I expect the silver eyes would have been quite uncanny and special back in the day. Even now the silver contacts are eerily effective, though it's more about Gary Lockwood's performance - at one point in Sickbay he actually kills himself for a few seconds just to see what it would feel like, and to impress Dr. Dehner, whom on first meeting he immediately has a bit of banter with, and to her credit she gives as good as she got, though Mitchell thinks of her coldly (it demonstrates if nothing else that the Bridge under Kirk is a lot more relaxed than it was under Pike). I liked the subtlety of how they show the wear to Gary, after throwing himself at a forcefield at the cracking station's brig (at least I assume it was the brig, though I'm not sure what an automated station would need with such a facility!), the silver fades for a second or two, enough time for the real Gary to show through briefly. Then as the episode goes on you notice his hair going grey with the strain of this transformation. One or two things don't appear to make much sense, such as the visual of the barrier suggesting it would be very simple to fly over or under it, but it could be that we only see something on the visible spectrum, and it stretches out well beyond that. And on Dehner's medical record we see her height as 5'2" when she's clearly above average, though it might have been her Mother's height as the card on screen doesn't make it clear and they'd never have expected people would one day have the ability to pause the screen to read it, let alone want to!

It's also a bit strange that in Trek's time, ESP (extrasensory perception), is an established fact in science, as that's more of a fantastical thing than hard science, I'd have thought. You certainly tended not to hear about such things in the other series', so maybe we can chalk it up to another unfinished element of the world they were creating. To be fair, teleportation is just as ridiculous and that had already been established as a mundane staple technology of a starship. Tractor beam technology also makes its debut which is how they pull the Valiant's beacon in, something that is being worked on in real science right now. The varied makeup of gender and racial roles on the Enterprise continues as before (it looked like it could have been the same asian Transporter assistant working at the console when Scott is introduced), though banter and innuendo in the workplace seems to still be acceptable by Gary's behaviour towards Dehner, and his and Kirk's references to her when they talk in Sickbay, although Kirk may have been partly humouring his injured friend. The soft focus lenses for beautifying female characters are still missing, but then there wasn't any love interest in the episode, aside from Gary and Dehner both changing into different beings together. It's stated that other crewmembers were affected, so I wonder why they didn't transition?

As a picture of what the series might have been I have to admit that this variation, of the three (first pilot, second pilot and series), was weakest. Kirk burst onto the screen as the man we know right away, the majority of the Enterprise and the technology was established, but everything else was unfinished, undeveloped. It would take one final push to mould the series into what we expect from 'TOS,' although it happened across a number of episodes in the first season as we shall see.

**

Gemini

DVD, Stargate SG-1 S8 (Gemini)

Evil Fifth of the Evil Replicators, having created an alternate Samantha Carter, now uses her to make the SGC's special anti-Replicator weapon redundant… somehow. And then alternate Samantha Carter turns out to be Evil Replicator Carter working for herself against Fifth. I never liked Fifth, although the last episode he appeared where he created a fantasy world to ensnare Carter wasn't too bad. This one is again, not too bad, but neither is it too good. I can see why Teal'c and particularly Carter weren't in the Prometheus-based episode that preceded this one. Perhaps they filmed them both at the same time? They could have, since Daniel was on different sets for much of that episode, and there's very little crossover. I wonder if Amanda Tapping got paid double for playing two roles? It's not the first time she'd done that, but the technical side of the episode was flawless, both apparently talking to each other or standing side by side without a hint of blue screen or whatever technique they use for this stuff. Granted, it was done in the last decade, so you'd expect such effects to be polished by then (Trek was doing it as far back as the eighties, or even the sixties!), but it's still nice to see good effects work.

The episode itself is another matter, filled with techy talk and little else, Carter too quick to fully trust this Replicator version of herself, and I guessed it was working for itself, stringing everyone along, though not that it wanted to become the Borg Queen, sorry, the Replicator Queen. There's a good sequence at the end where it chucks huge soldiers like Teal'c around like toys, but it's all a bit mechanical, from plotting to action. There was an angle that glimmered the hope of something more when she talks about not being able to betray her kind, yet not being able to live like a human, basically stuck between two lives, neither of which are her own, and wanting to end it all. Instead it was just a blind to gain sympathy instead of being about the emergence of a new ally, or whatever, it's just the creation of a new enemy that wants to rule the galaxy. For some reason. I couldn't remember why the Replicators had left our galaxy, but I suppose it was the development of that weapon, which is now ineffective. For some reason. I wasn't really following all the plot details as it wasn't the most engaging episode. It's one of those where the audience is let in on the secret, and we spend much of the episode waiting for the other characters to catch up, never an ideal route to a better episode, even with the twist of personal scheming. Tapping does fine, pulling off two subtly different performances, and there is a moment of introspection at the end when she says that it's her fault, since she taught Fifth betrayal, and he taught it to her double, so it ends on a thoughtful note, but too little, too late for me.

Daniel only has a small exposure, talking about the Prometheus mission, which is apparently on again now the ship's been repaired, restocked and crew selected. It's a shame we didn't get to see the mission to Atlantis, and it will be interesting to hear what results from it, and consequently Michael Shanks probably had more lines as the voice of Thor than his best known character! O'Neill similarly doesn't feature much, beyond giving instructions via monitor, perhaps budget-saving for the production or time-saving for the actor, but I do prefer it when all four are together, as that's what the series is about. When they first had Evil Carter in the room at the Alpha site, I thought they were planning on saving money by not showing both Carters together, though that theory soon went out the airlock. It struck me that the Alpha site has very little protection. Or, to be precise, no protection - we see a training mission Fifth made Evil Carter go through, and which she relives for Sam's benefit, where she kills all the SG-1 team, along with other base members, and of course the alarm sounds and the heavy metal shutters descend, lockdown coming into effect to protect the base. What faces the Stargate at Alpha site? A little desk with three monitors on it. That's not going to keep anything out, is it! It is useful to have an alternative position from which to do business, though, because, as they were planning to do at one point, they can always do a Hoth and abandon the base, hightailing it back to Earth if need be.

The trouble with Fifth is, it always feels like a bit of an indulgence dealing with him. He doesn't seem to have much motivation (well none, now that his protege scattered his remains into the cosmos), and, as Carter said, he's like an emotionally immature child, so there's not much reason to include him or explore his character. So the episode is a bit of a treading water type of thing, not getting very far, except to set up a new threat in the form of Evil Carter, to remind us of the Replicator threat (which were never the most compelling of enemies on the series), and give something else for Carter to feel guilty about. Replicate a better story next time, please guys?

**

The Cage

DVD, Star Trek S1 (The Cage)

Mainly because of the 50th Anniversary, but also because the first new 'Star Trek' TV series in twelve years will be set ten years before it, I felt it was time to revisit the original, the series that started it all: 'Star Trek,' or 'Classic Star Trek' as it was known in the early nineties, but best known now as 'The Original Series.' I have to admit it was never my favourite of the various Treks, although when I say never, that's a slight exaggeration, as for a few years it was the only Trek I had been exposed to: back in the early nineties, probably 1992, possibly 1993, my Father called me to the TV on a Wednesday evening at 6pm on BBC2, and I was allowed to watch an 'adults' programme at a time when I generally didn't watch much of anything beyond 5:35 when Children's BBC ended for the day. I think it was 1992 because it was in the winter time, and as I remember, it was dark. And seeing this scary, uncertain, untamed series that was far from safe in my child's eyes, was a thrill, though I had no idea it would become my favourite form of entertainment as a whole, for many years to come (and to this day!). I believe 'Miri' was my first episode, as that's the one that stood out in my memory ever after - one reason I think it was autumn, because on that same evening or near to it, I was taken down to my Secondary School for the open day, and walking down through the local estate in the dark, I was imagining crazed aliens about to rush out screaming, as the 'grup' does in an early scene.

I say the series was never my favourite, but what I mean is that once I got onto the 'hardcore' Treks, your 'DS9's and your 'Voyager's, I saw it more for the aged and simpler storytelling that it was, much more attracted to the 24th Century era of Trek from 1995 when I began 'DS9.' But I was always sympathetic to 'TOS,' and didn't care for the negative views of so many in the nineties that bemoaned the cheap sets and melodramatic acting - I always had a place for the original, even while I preferred those more impressive and expanded spinoffs. It wasn't a series I was anxious to watch over and over, and it's telling that the one series I chose to collect on video (two episodes for £12.99 seems extortionate now, but was the only way to watch something whenever you wanted), was 'DS9,' but I would watch repeats and be taken back to that thrilling time in the dark autumnal or winter evenings, always loving the nostalgia and respect the later series' paid their origins. I couldn't help agreeing with the more advanced view of the 24th Century characters that it was a different time and that such people would be booted out of Starfleet now - ironic how things went full circle, starting with the ill-fated 'Enterprise' that tried to strip away the complexity of Trek in order to return it to a simpler, more action-packed style, setting the course back around to 'TOS' and its more basic, less cerebral form of storytelling, then picked up by an actual reboot of 'TOS' in the Abramsverse films, and now a new series set just prior, the same superior attitude evident in the nineties now against the 24th Century series' for their cliches and tropes.

Personally, I don't think it's generally a good idea to go backwards unless you're dealing with a specific period that demands to be explored for its cultural and political fascination, but the fact that a series was made in the sixties when TV was episodic and far more basic and unambitious than later decades, makes revisiting 'TOS' of interest in itself - it's amazing to see how fully the structure of Trek was formed, even in this first, 'failed' pilot that was famously never shown, except as flashbacks in the only two-parter of 'TOS,' 'The Menagerie.' I say failed, but I don't think it's a failure at all, and out of the two pilots I've always considered this more engaging than 'Where No Man Has Gone Before,' and you can even see a more cerebral, almost 'TNG'-like attitude on display which didn't suit the time, but has aged pretty well. Captain Pike is a conflicted man, but he's also a thoughtful character of depth, and you can imagine that he'd have done much better if he'd had what Kirk had in Spock and McCoy. Picard's attitudes and command style evidently informed Pike's, both characters created by Gene Roddenberry. From little details such as Pike's love of horses, to the full bookcase in his quarters (plus ancient TV in a cabinet - he must love antiques, just like Picard!), and even the "Engage!" catchphrase he uses a couple of times! He's somewhat remote from the crew, demanding respect and compliance - when the episode concludes with the traditional comical exchange on the Bridge, Pike doesn't really join in, a little stern with his crew, more than Kirk would have been, if perhaps with the slightest hint in his manner that he accepts the amusement of the situation. Dignity is high on his list of traits. As is humanitarianism: he suggests trade and cooperation to the Talosians, but they point to the reality that humans would learn their powers of illusion and destroy themselves as they did.

Pike is actually what the episode is all about, and just as the alternate Kirk in 'Star Trek Beyond' is trying to decide whether he can muster the enthusiasm to continue as a starship Captain, Christopher is having the same doubts - you can see they were trying to have some kind of reference back to the origins of it all in the latest film, though I suspect not by intent: the intelligent thoughtfulness on display in this episode is many times more compelling than Chris Pine's bored space-Kirk. Pike's a man who's been through the mill, his most recent fight for survival putting all into perspective. He's an introspective man, full of self-doubt evidenced by his speech on deciding who lives and who dies. The battle on Rigel VII (could this be the event 'Discovery' will be about?), is still fresh in his mind, and being the figurehead and authority of the United Space Ship Enterprise with 203 lives under him, lies heavy on his shoulders, even experienced as he is, and with the best balance of character. He thinks of running away to a new life on Regulus, or as an Orion trader, trying to believe that a starship captain isn't the only life available. We find him weary in mind, something that can be kept from the crew, but not his doctor/bartender, Dr. Boyce, an excellent creation that could well have been as fascinating a presence aboard the Enterprise as McCoy. Several characters stand out as having the potential for much deeper study in episodes to come, and I can't shake the feeling that in spite of the legendary nature of the actors and characters that we eventually saw on the series, this crew could have been equally as indelibly tied to pop culture as Kirk's.

You have Number One, a lieutenant, second in command to Pike; the obviously alien presence that is Spock; Dr. Boyce; the Yeoman, the navigator and another guy that were in several scenes. It shows how little those last three made an impression when I don't even remember their names, but they certainly had the potential, especially the Yeoman (Colt?), as the slightly bold Captain's assistant that doesn't hold back from standing up to him, albeit meekly. And the blonde navigator gets in on the action, as much a face as Spock's when they're blasting the rocky outcrop or seated in one of the prime positions on the Bridge (not sure why his hand is bandaged - I wonder if there's a cutscene somewhere?). But this is Pike's show, and despite the longer than average running time (around sixty-three minutes), he remains at the forefront of the story, the others not as well drawn and reduced to supporting the B-story of the crew's vain attempts to rescue their Captain (finally deciding to beam in through rock, which was always a bit of a no-no!). From a historical perspective, you'd think Spock would've been the highest profile, after all he's the only one to become a regular after the reaction to this pilot did away with the rest. But this isn't the Spock we're used to - though he looks much the same as the cool, logical Vulcan we'd come to know on 'TOS,' he's a lot younger, which is incredibly fortuitous, and one of the first random successes of something falling into place that would later have greater meaning or bring improvement to Trek (for example, Spock dying in 'Star Trek II,' or Worf joining 'DS9'), little course changes that would bring big dividends.

I'm not sure they even state what species he is or comment on the fact that he's not human, he's simply there and accepted as a normative part of the ship's crew, yet (had this particular episode been shown back then), he must have made a huge impact on audiences of the day (he certainly did in the series proper). He was probably a little easier to identify with in this version because he wasn't particularly alien except in face and ears (I do wonder what would have happened if the original idea to have him painted red with a big plate in the centre of his chest and a tail, would have helped Trek to go down as quite the serious science fiction series it attempted to be, and was a wise decision to avoid!). It's so easy to take him for granted with fifty years of hindsight as arguably the most recognisable character the franchise produced, especially when he isn't the centre of attention, just a member of the crew, and seemingly not a particularly important one. He may be third in command as his role does seem to be largest after Pike and Number One, but when we're so used to seeing him fully formed and in authority, albeit from the science career angle, it's strange to see him played so differently. Of course, this more emotional version was what the Abramsverse writers used to account for their young version being all emotive and pouty, not realising what was great about Spock was his reservedness and cool professionalism as a logician. Indeed, this version of Spock is of historical interest only, he doesn't carry the same weight as the rejigged version did: you can tell they hadn't entirely pinned down the character at the time of this production.

If an alien on the bridge of your starship that wasn't terrorising anyone, or being hunted, would have been dramatically different and unexpected for the time, it must have been equally as diverting and exotic to feature a woman in command. You can see right from the off Roddenberry's utopian vision of inclusion and equality - the concepts of the technology, the organisation and the varied people aboard were all so fully formed it's incredible, as is the strong use of music to create atmosphere, with a soundscape of effects enhancing the well designed sets. If anyone had told me this was actually the second pilot after they'd had time to refine the ideas a bit, I'd have believed them, because I think it's so well crafted with such strong vision. There aren't the same hallmarks of racial and gender mix as in 'TOS,' it is mainly white men, but you do see an asian Transporter assistant, black people in the background, and a few women. It's not quite as specific as 'TOS' with its archetypes of a black character, an asian character, the female character, different ages… But again, I can imagine the series being a success with this cast, because it almost feels like it would be a win with any cast unless they were utterly useless: the amazing technological vision hasn't dated as much as would be expected in our age of vast, speedy advancement - the last fifty years, Trek's lifespan, would easily be deemed the most highly advanced period in human history, and the most rapid in development, yet the core values of story, tied to a powerful and iconic vision withstand the test of time magnificently!

Sure, there are inconsistencies such as no phasers, but 'hand lasers' as navigator boy calls them, a dot matrix type printer on the Bridge (though much quieter than the real thing!), or the most perplexing of all, reference to 'time warp' and the 'time barrier' having been broken. Time warp can simply be equated to warp speed, perhaps it was the fashion of the time to refer to it in this manner, and the time barrier can also be accounted for - travelling at faster than light speeds is a form of 'time' travel (in theory), but I would put it down to the breaking of the latest warp speed barrier. In this case it could be Warp 7 as I believe that was the speed they went to on their journey, and when the time barrier's being spoken of it's in explanation to the crash survivors on Talos IV, with the addendum that they can now go much faster than the ship these people travelled in (SS Columbia), eighteen years before. So it's quite plausible that in that time a new warp factor limit had been achieved, it's just the terminology that sounds jarring. It's astonishing how close to the now-familiar futuristic technology they reached, even in 1964 (the pilot's date seen at the conclusion of the end credits). The ship herself only has minor differences, with pointy additions to the front of the nacelles, and there are lots of miniature screens attached to flexible necks dotted around the sets - when Pike goes to his quarters I assumed the one on his bedside table was a traditional reading lamp, but it's shown to be a visual communicator. There are several on the Bridge - I imagine they got rid of them for the series as it might be costly for people to communicate visually all the time, replacing them with the wall-mounted audio comm system.

We get to see the Bridge, the Captain's quarters, a stretch of corridor, the Briefing Room, and the Transporter room (as befits a new gimmick they aren't afraid to show it off in all its glory - amazing to think this simple idea was put in place purely as a money-saver to prevent them from having to land the ship each week!), as well as people going into a Turbolift (which appears to be empty of the operating handles). The stations are much the same, although they aren't terribly ergonomic in design, with some operators forced to lean over them and splay out across the board. The Viewscreen is present and correct (though smaller), and this may be just my fancy, but I thought Spock was operating it by hand gesture - of course he could have been gesturing for a crewman to change the image, but all we see is his finger moving and the picture changes so I chose to see it that way, though it would be unbelievably prescient for them to have imagined such original futurism, well out of the sphere of predictability. We also have planets with an atmosphere capable of sustaining human life, classified Class M, a designation that would be used constantly through five decades of Trek to come. Aside from a hand laser instead of a phaser, and the complete absence of a Tricorder, the only completely recognisable device they carry is the Communicator. It's a larger, more robust and less sleek design, but it features the same flip-top lid that made it so memorable. Plus the familiar sound effects are all there, from the blinkies on the bridge to the swish of the automatic doors.

The lighting of the sets and the muted, almost pastel shades of uniform (which even have the correct logos for command, sciences and operations on the badges, as we expect, even if Boyce's is a bit lopsided!), more akin to those seen in 'The Motion Picture,' strangely appeal to me more than the bright colour of both lighting and uniforms in the series where the garish department colours of gold, blue and red were designed to help sell more colour TVs, and 'TOS' to those with colour sets. The more muted designs of this pilot appeal more because they give greater contrast to the action on screen (and I love those jackets they wear to beam down, an idea 'Enterprise' imitated to great effect - we also see boiler suits for some, such as Boyce and the Transporter technicians wear, maybe the doc had come from surgery?), in the same way I preferred the 'First Contact' uniforms used on 'DS9' to the 'TNG' colour chunk, or the coloured shoulders of 'Voyager.' These have the same feel of the series, but look more practical and functional - they still help the colours of the production to pop, whether it's the beautifully real matte painting of the castle on Rigel VII, or the coppery red caged animal which could be a relative of the Mugato. Pike's vivid blue eyes, or Vina's striking blonde hair - it's like those old films from the fifties that seemed to have turned up the colour filters to maximum to give us something completely different to black and white photography, almost as far from real vision of the world, like 'The Wizard of Oz' and others. The women are treated more seriously, too, with none of the soft camera focus for female characters, no woman-tinted lens to represent Kirk-o-vision! Everything combines to make this seem more real than 'TOS,' which has gone down in pop culture for many things, including a cheesiness that isn't as apparent here.

There's still some of that: the aforementioned red-painted gorilla suit is a prime example, as is the bird costume (the last surviving Xindi Avian? Yes, I really want it to be that, the Talosians having captured it centuries ago), with some poor soul having to run around in them, but even there we get a strong sense of outlandishness and the weird unknown, the ability of the series to present undefined terror or horrors (seen again in the coming of the warrior on Rigel VII). We see them stomp or flap around their cages, but from the camera angle we can only see so much of them before they're hidden by the rock wall, the flailing shadows on the walls leaving a creepier impression than the costumes themselves. The scene would have been much better served if we'd only seen the shadows, and if the cells had been poorly lit, as demonstrated by a third cell which we're tantalised by only seeing the shadow. Yet part of the enjoyment of Trek is in the design of the species, especially in 'TOS,' and they always went for it full-blooded, the designs not always working out, but sometimes excelling themselves (the Horta, for example, or the Excalbian). I like that something of that monster mash began right here in the pilot, even if they do look a little silly - though the gorilla suit looks a lot less silly up close when it's right in our face, the Talosian Keeper turning into a vision of it in an attempt to frighten Pike, whose hands are strangling its neck - a hugely memorable image, not least because it became one of those clips in the end credits of the series.

The alien design is largely impressive, the Talosians an absolute triumph. I always referred to them as the 'bottom-heads' as a child, for the cleft at the rear, and their pale, bulbous shape, something both amusing to a child, but also hideous and disturbing - the production value is high, we see actual veins expanding and contracting on those bloated brain cases, something you probably wouldn't expect from a series made back then. They look real, and that's the key to successful alien makeup, but it's not just the inspirational surface design, it's also how the actors who play them carry an atmosphere of smug power, as if everything is proceeding according to plan. They're so advanced they don't even need to communicate verbally, something that has long been a herald of advanced intelligence in sci-fi, the popular idea that humans will continue to develop, and that we could turn into something aesthetically disgusting, but more powerful, with a terrible knowledge. Perhaps it's a human fear as deep as that of survival, the speculation on the potential future if we were left alone to 'advance' ourselves (something no less of an issue now as it was in the early 20th Century, with genetic manipulation becoming a reality), and the shrinking away from the values we hold to become callous and lacking in the warm, but messy emotions that are the norm for us. Spock would take on the characteristics of the Talosians in the series, perhaps Roddenberry saw the success of his vision in that race and wanted to explore them a bit more, giving Spock telepathic ability and an emotionless exterior so that you don't know what he's thinking.

Spock isn't actually as out of character as we might remember. Don't get me wrong, he does display ridiculous levels of openness for a Vulcan, but he also has that innate calm. That may have been Nimoy's interpretation of the role, rather than trying to be alien, but, for example, he reports the loss of the Captain in a completely detached and cold manner. He forgets decorum in his delight over the singing plants, the most famous of his missteps, grinning at his Captain, and he's also prone to treating his own illogical conclusions and speculations as fact, such as claiming just by seeing the Talosians that they have brains three times the size of ours, reaching the conjectural conclusion that they could probably swat this ship like a fly! It was a bit of a jump, especially for a Vulcan, though it's what audiences of the time would have been expecting, the attitude being that aliens were obviously dangerous and more advanced. He also shouts in surprise when Number One and Colt are beamed away, and he tends to be a bit loud and intense when he's in command on the Bridge. It may be that he was having a really bad day, or the recent visit to Rigel VII had given him licence to try being emotive for a change. Or perhaps it was an ordinary expression for a Vulcan in his twenties, barely out of his teens? We've never been given concrete facts about the Vulcan puberty because they're all so secretive, we just assume they were always logical from birth. So it's great fun to know that we'll be seeing him ten years later in his life, and on and on until the character's death, the longest exploration of one character in Trek, I would think.

I'd never considered that the Talosians might have influenced Spock as a character before, but that's the delight of revisiting these old episodes and giving them some thought because you can begin to see so much more than you thought was there. You could even make the case that Spock's encounter with the Talosians (even if he never got close to them), may have influenced his attitude and encouraged him to pursue a more emotionless path. It's certainly possible. Not that they were a particularly appealing race to human eyes, but to Vulcans… We're introduced to them expertly as silent observers with that creepy twanging, nightmarish music that would become so familiar as the herald of something alien. They look self-satisfied as they watch Vina's work on Pike and the crew, coolly observing, but with an aloof attitude informed by filming them from below. The masterstroke was in using women, then having men's voices and no impression of gender, as it automatically makes them unnatural and difficult to categorise and process to us. Not only are the bulbous heads and mental powers a popular conceit of early sci-fi, to go with flying saucers and space rays, but the idea of a greater intelligence watching us was common, waiting for some unknown moment to do something, like a spider that crouches on the floor, its legs held motionless, yet we know at any moment it will suddenly scuttle across at frightening speed… Again, it's the survival instinct that gives us these chills and compares what we see to something in nature. Of course, in reality, everything is in nature, because aliens aren't real, just a projection of the imagination of humans, which is influenced by what we see around us, so it all comes back to the mind.

The look of the Talosians and their cavern, is top notch, fantastic production value for the time (and I wonder if 'The Time Machine' film from 1964 was an influence - Vina sounds like Weena; and going down into the caves of the aliens…), even holding up today as strong design work (a false perspective was used in the corridor stretching off to the back of the set, I believe, just as it would be in the Enterprise's engine room in 'Star Trek II'!). Even the planetary surface, while easily recognisable to eyes familiar with Trek's planet sets, has a reality to it. Yes, the ground is flat and sandy to cover the studio floor, with no elevation aside from the mountainous area, and the background is painted, but the styrofoam rocks are in place that would become a staple, and the whole layout of the place, while a relatively small set, still manages to convince that they're on a planet. The singing plants, a notorious catalyst of Spock's most emotive moment, grinning as he does at the sound they make (and I can sympathise, since it would be cool to tap plants like cymbals and make different sounds - at least he didn't go the whole hog and start banging out a tune, like Data's 'Tiny Little Lifeforms' moment in 'Generations'!), are the least effective visually, looking like the cut out plastic shapes stuck on wire that they are! But even there, sound makes a huge difference and gives them a reality that just seeing them doesn't. They have no purpose other than to demonstrate the alienness of this world, but that's another core idea of Trek: that there's always something to interest us out there.

The effects work may be a little rough around the edges (such as Pike shifting position when the illusions change around him), but it supports the on screen action wonderfully. Right from the opening shot after the credits (which feature 'Star Trek' in a more grounded, basic font than the classic one which would give off an air of weirdness and cheesiness, a wacky, wild ride, skewed and unpredictable, at least that's what I take from it; plus no episode title), we see the kind of ambition they have, the camera zooming in on the incredible model, which is so easy to take for granted, but was a miracle of inspiration and design, iconic in its simplicity, but yet real, believable far from hokey. We zoom right into the top of the saucer section, directly onto the Bridge, and though the transition isn't perfect, it's something I don't believe Trek attempted again for over thirty years, until they had the CGI ability to zoom in or out of Voyager's windows. What an introduction! It reinforces the fact that this is a real ship, like a submarine, with real people going about real daily tasks on real missions, not some crazy B-film. We also get the familiar effects of the hand laser beams, enhanced by the power of sound, especially when we get the mounted version that whines and bellows like a cannon as it attempts to take out the mountaintop where Pike was kidnapped. It sounds powerful, and it looks it, but I love the idea that the Talosians make the illusion that the top isn't blown apart, when, in fact, it is, as we see later, though amazingly their technology isn't affected: the lift still brings them up from below the surface without a hitch!

I can't help wondering why the Talosians didn't simply get Vina to persuade Pike to enter the lift with her, instead of leading him there, then jumping out and dragging him down (though it serves the purpose of showing the audience what they're capable of), in full view of his crew. Maybe they underestimated the crew, assuming they'd simply leave when they couldn't get him back? They could have taken all the humans - maybe they had a strict policy of only two per species, but that wouldn't make sense with their grand plan to breed Pike and Vina and create a race of human slaves to serve them! I guess they suspected Pike would alert his crew if Vina revealed an underground lair, and would proceed with more cautiousness, bringing the other members of the team along, so they had to act. And they only wanted the best of the species, Pike fitting Vina's ideal of a man. In their own way they were benevolent, as we learn that they reconstructed Vina after the Columbia's crash, though managing to muck up her anatomy because she was alien. Even though she was humanoid like them. And had the same limbs, torso, etc, as them. Okay, maybe it was the internal organs they got confused and this created the deformity she endured on the outside? They were benevolent as an owner would be to a pet, or a scientist to a research sample, somewhere between those two points, but they definitely hadn't lost all compassion, even though it was tempered by self-interest. They also accept the realisation that humans are too violent to be kept in captivity, and give Vina what she wanted in an illusory Pike and her youthful good looks back, allowing the humans to leave. It leaves me wondering what happened next for him - she gets to live out illusion, he goes back to reality.

They had a kind of worthy goal in that they wanted to train Pike and his offspring into serving as artisans and technicians, and who knows what else, to rebuild their stilted civilisation, regardless that they'd be captives. In a way it might have been a fascinating life, one that the Captain, in his wish for a new path, and escape from the responsibilities of his position, might have been open to, had it been presented as a choice. The Talosians and their mind reading weren't as effective as they thought, not really able to fully comprehend the thoughts or character, of their captives, as Pike proved by standing up to them (primitive thoughts blocking them, a bit like 'This Side of Paradise' where anger rejects the spores' power). Vina tried to do this, and pitifully, without the hope of rescue from a dedicated crew above the planet, was eventually forced to give in after continual tricks and punishment, year after year. So they weren't that benevolent really, and everything they said could be seen as having their spin on it to make it seem more attractive and reasonable, and in reality they were cruel and heartless, forcing a terrible nightmare life on this traumatised girl. Who knows what horrors they put her through before breaking her spirit, yet she remained human, didn't go insane or become a dribbling wreck, so they must have been subtle as well, not just brutal. They must have been conniving and measured, having all the time in the world to carry out their heinous conditioning. It's no wonder she has no shame, and obeys them implicitly, not sensing Pike has the resolve to free them both.

They try the same tricks on the Captain, and maybe they would have broken him down, too, given time, but they were a little too experimental, allowing him his Number One and Yeoman, which in turn showed that they didn't have a set plan of action, upsetting Vina and making her jealous, initiating all the strong emotions that they were no good at reading, thus making a rod for their own bottom-heads. They made an awfully good try at Pike, giving us great insight into this man we've only known for a few minutes - whether it's Jeffrey Hunter's anguished performance, or the pleasing and compelling view into his own history, present and fantasy future, this examination is the linchpin which makes the episode such an enjoyable one. We'd already heard about the Rigel VII fight, and now we get to relive it with him against a large warrior (or 'war-yer' as Pike calls him, in the same manner as Klingons on the later series' would!), the Kaylar - I got a bit confused with this, as I thought the name was so, but when I went back afterwards and checked the subtitles, it was "The Killer!" On further research in the Encyclopaedia I saw it was indeed given the title Kaylar (nothing to do with Worf's girlfriend on 'TNG'). It was an odd sequence, with this slightly deformed, but somewhat spindly giant, attacking. We don't really get a sense of the horror of war that was implied through Pike's talk with Boyce earlier in the episode, it's more of a straightforward man on man fight.

Not entirely true: though ineffective, we see Vina join in the fight, she's not shown as being a helpless weakling, despite wearing the fantastical princess' dress, denoting her need for a knight to save her. But then Pike wouldn't have been drawn to the weak type, I think, his instincts to protect were naturally encouraged, but he needed to have some respect for her, too, which I think is why we see her fighting spirit, previously crushed by her captors, revived, knowing she's fighting for a companion in her existence, despite knowing it's wrong to trap this man, she's gone beyond moral thinking thanks to her conditioning, something that has to be defeated, partly by Pike, and partly by her jealousy at not being the centre of his world when the others are brought in. You can see Roddenberry's more progressive views in the treatment of the female characters. For one thing they wear trousers, not miniskirts (another thing that made the series seem more frivolous), making it feel more militaristic and less voyeuristic, except for the Orion slave girl scene. In 'Enterprise' the perceived balance against this green woman, a slave forced to dance for her captors, was retconned into being the Orion women actually being the ones in control through the use of powerful pheromones, but seeing this scene again, the impression I got was that she was in control, no retconning required. Maybe the concept of the slave women was the issue, because this isn't reality, here we see her enacting the deepest, most embarrassing fantasy of Pike's mind - he'd already discussed becoming an Orion trader, and now we see him as one, though he probably wasn't referring to trade in people!

The Orion makeup was another of those iconic images, used in the end credits, perpetuating it in the minds of viewers. It's amazing that (aside from the non-canon 'Animated Series'), green Orion males weren't seen until the final season of 'Enterprise,' forty-one years later, and Orion females were almost as nonexistent. Probably something to do with the difficulty of applying the makeup - as ever with colour you can always see the pink inside of the mouth and inside skin of the eyes, the pinkness of which can't be disguised (without even more, and unpleasant, work). There's a great story about Majel Barrett being the test model for the makeup, each time making it more and more green until they found out that a technician was mistakenly correcting the image each time because he didn't realise it was supposed to be that way! Barrett gets the main female flag-flying role as Number One, though she remains pretty restrained and doesn't make a huge impact. But I like that she isn't the typical (for the time), whiny woman, or dumb beauty, she's a functional, and functioning leader of the crew, open to hearing their opinions (as seen in the Briefing Room), respected without question when Pike leaves her in command during his absence, and under the circumstances she does a solid job in the role, trying all that can be done to recover her Captain.

There are hints she'd like to be more - even early in the episode I sensed disappointment she was left on the Bridge instead of going with the Captain, but at that point I was in two minds whether she might simply be ambitious and wanting to impress him, or that she likes him and wants to be trusted and relied upon, not left to mind ship. Later, from the Talosians and their rather rude habit of reading people's minds, we learn she often has fantasies involving Pike, though fortunately we weren't made acquainted with them! That's another thing that makes this feel a bit more like 'TNG,' with Picard and Crusher having a bit of a frisson to their friendship right from the start, and it would have made for an interesting situation in future episodes for the Captain and Number One - there's no reset button as he knows the truth, though I'm sure was professional and courteous enough to ignore it. The Yeoman's also shown to be a big fan of his, which is why she's the other woman to be presented as an alternate mating choice - preceding Janice Rand in the series she is obviously in favour of him, and I suppose the Rand thing was a continuation of this and Number One, combined into one character (though Rand was quite different, not nervous around the Captain). I couldn't help noticing the painted fingernails Number One sported, and what appeared to be a wedding ring, though I suppose it could have been decoration.

Perhaps Pike had already twigged his Lieutenant has an unprofessional attachment to him, which might have precipitated him saying he still can't get used to having a woman on the Bridge, though it's more likely he didn't realise. It's easy to be taken out of it by the sixties attitudes, but maybe Pike had been used to serving with an all-male crew, or at least, senior staff, on other ships? He then makes the comment that, no offence to her, she's different, of course, which wasn't much consolation, I'm sure! It shows the Captain isn't above putting his foot in it, but she's too restrained to show much response. The Captain obviously relies on her and respects her as his Number One, a bit like Janeway and Chakotay would, or (eventually), Sisko and Kira - no sense of romance, purely a professional and successful partnership. I think Pike had enough problems without needing to get into the difficulties and intricacies of shipboard romance!

Mind you, maybe that's one reason why he considers dropping his commission and heading off to pastures new? In one illusion Vina takes him to where he grew up, the Mojave Desert, which in the 23rd Century has been turned into a verdant paradise of green grass, trees and plants, ideal for his love of horse-riding. We see civilisation in another effective background matte, but it's the carefree chance to settle back and have a picnic on a beautiful day with his more proper wife and companion, Vina (or the Talosians), trying a different tack this time, when protecting her wasn't enough of an encouragement. He can't help but be impressed, even though, like Kirk in the Nexus, he still can't give in and accept it as reality. It remains a gilded cage, and though Vina promises to please him, be whatever he wants, whatever woman he wants, wherever he wants to be, he remains focused on escape, not giving in to temptation, in spite of the innuendo that she won't even wear clothes if he wants. If anything, the whole experience reenergises him and forces him to realise that his place is on the Bridge, having lived the fantasies of other lives, a common human pastime, never satisfied with our lot. Vina almost cracked it, that his real fantasy is not what he could do, but what he couldn't. The change in her as the Orion is almost as scary as the aliens instrumenting it all, no longer the scared, subservient maid, but siren-like, in control, drunk on her own power over Pike.

Ultimately, when it comes down to the choice to remain in the fantasy world alone, to live out her days in captivity, or face death with her fellow humans after Pike engineers escape, Number One setting a hand laser to overload, she chooses death and makes her redemptive choice for all the fell influence she'd had on Pike for her captors. She's no longer pitifully in fear for her safety, trying to ensure Pike complies because she doesn't want to experience the pain the Talosians can inflict (and as they do to Pike, in another hugely memorable moment when he's plunged into a burning hell, sweat pouring off him in a stream). Thanks to these other examples of her race, she's realised the noble path is the better - if the Talosians had her they might try to entrap other human vessels in future. It's a key moment for a strong character, and gives the episode its ending where it could be seen as a bit anticlimactic, with the threat putting the Keeper off, and they're off the hook, the episode succeeding so well because of Susan Oliver and Jeffrey Hunter's ability to carry it. It may only have been the equivalent of a film of the week, cunningly reused in the series to save money, but it gave the Enterprise an immediate history to build upon, a ship that had seen some things, had been around the celestial block a few times. In an age when everything has to be new and the first, we can forget what history can mean, and what age brings with it: experience, knowledge and a deeper perspective, all vital to the ability to pull off good drama. And this episode does pull off good drama, setting the series up for an incredible future that is still in existence today.

There are so many films and TV series from that era that deserve to have been further explored, to have been allowed to fully reach the potential that their concepts promised, but so few were given that chance. 'Star Trek' got that chance many times over, perhaps more than it ever deserved or needed, yet at the same time this episode proved, if proof were necessary, that Trek wasn't just Kirk and Spock, but that it had legs, that the universe they initiated here was vast and vibrant, teeming with exotic and fascinating life, but was also not a substitute for exploring the human mind and morals. Because this episode put all those things in motion, not just the memorable aliens, technology and action, but peering into what makes us tick, the redemptive, noble qualities that need to be pushed into the open, wrestled with, not just the acceptance of a visceral experience in combat and the fight for good against evil. This episode achieved all that and set down an irrevocable template that would last for as long as we hold up the positive qualities of heroism and self-sacrifice, never giving in and being willing to give all in the battle. Probably my favourite quote of all 'Star Trek' comes in this episode from Dr. Boyce: "A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away." It's a powerful message, especially in this day and age. No less the one about things not always being as they appear, not to accept what we see before us as undeniable truth, but to dig a little deeper.

Fantasy becoming more important than reality has been a constant theme in Trek, throughout the years, and it takes more than Pike's urging for Vina to see what a life for children these circumstances would be like. Her fantasy is to have a family, but does she really want them to live enslaved as she and Pike are? She's forced to face up to reality, in the same way that so many characters have had to in the Trek realm. The Holodeck (not yet invented, but which you can imagine the crew we see in casual clothes might have just come from, a sunny beach program perhaps), could be a kind of antidote to that, a place to expel those wishes, get them out of your system so you can continue to live happily in the real world. Trek has often said this, while dishing out episode after episode and film after film, and wanting us to watch it, buy it, enjoy it. But it is important to remember that life isn't fiction, but a real, living, breathing existence. Trek helps us to get by when we're down, but shouldn't become the Holodeck for hiding away in, instead a tool for inspiration - that's when it's at its best, when it inspires us to think and act, to explore in the same way that our heroes do, to take the good bits from what we see. I'm not advocating everything in Trek as wise and good, nor all points of view to be acceptable and healthy (I certainly don't support IDIC, the Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations that so many mindlessly repeat as the great legacy of Roddenberry, which on closer inspection makes little sense), but Roddenberry did succeed in giving us moral television that had enough of the good stuff to make it something to enjoy and champion over so much depressing, negative entertainment. Most of Trek builds you up, I only hope the new series will live up to its illustrious progenitor: 'The Cage.'

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