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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