The Alternative Factor

DVD, Star Trek S1 (The Alternative Factor)

What of Lazarus? That's the open ended question Kirk poses as a final conundrum to leave us with. But my question would be, "What of Lazarus' beard?" It was never a thick, bushy, well-cultivated hair growth at the best of times, but it goes from straggly goatee and Fu Manchu moustache combo to a few hairs loosely struggling under the category of 'beard' in the space of a couple of scenes! Literally, Lazarus' beard growth diminishes from being on the ship one moment to beaming down with the Landing Party with a few faint follicles the next. Either the Transporter has that effect on certain people from antimatter universes, or something fishy was going on… It would be easily explained away if we'd had the anti-Lazarus replace our version, but we know it's the same guy because he's wearing the 'bandage' (as McCoy calls it, but it's more like a plaster - Kirk must think his Doctor incredibly inappropriate if he really was joking about the disappearing patch, perhaps to cheer him up, but in his defence he was under a lot of stress at the time, pressure from Starfleet Command, the ship's safety, and a perplexing mystery, so he wasn't thinking straight or he'd have paid more attention!). This isn't the only sign of an episode in a part of the season where there's a distinct impression that the budget, time and patience was being stretched. This was about the twentieth episode produced (give or take the original pilot), so I can imagine that no matter how well organised and machinelike the production had become, things must have been getting strained by this stage.

The other big factor (the alternative factor, you could even call it), in deducing this is the fact of the location shooting being replaced by stage scenes towards the end - once Kirk's travelled through the corridor between universes he appears in the other and you can see how dark the sky has become, a big arc light glaring at him to make it seem like day, but they can't hide the fact that it was late evening with fading light. Then the very next scene is Kirk walking towards Lazarus' spaceship on a set, when previously it had been lodged neatly in a natural landscape. They do a fine job of approximating the great outdoors of the planet, but it is noticeable. Kirk himself also comes across as quite tired and stressed, but that could be as much to do with the pressure put on him by his superiors (the first time an authority from Starfleet Command has appeared on the Viewscreen to give Kirk his mission directly). Even with these glaring production faults I can't help but be drawn to this episode and I always think well of it. It's something to do with the weight of such a huge mission, the atmosphere of doom and desperation, the weird Jekyll and Hyde flipping of Lazarus, seeing another part of Engineering (an alternative factor, you might say), where the Dilithium Crystals are housed, the thought of a hole in reality which has let something terrible in, and the eternal struggle set in motion by episode's end, giving it an intangible, bittersweet, almost melancholy regard for one being's sacrifice for the good of two entire universes that puts me somewhat in mind of the two Sybok's fighting each other at the end of 'Star Trek V.' What must be endured for the needs of the many.

I suspect that film found a few things from this episode to influence it, with its religious theme a clarion call: Lazarus outright declares his mission a holy cause, though we later learn he is the mad one of the pair, so whatever he says must be examined with scrutiny (he's like the anti-Van Gelder - that Doctor from 'Dagger of The Mind' seemed insane, but was actually fully rational, if not in control, whereas Lazarus, though driven, appears calm, with purposeful intent, and is actually bonkers). His mission to destroy a monster is actually to kill himself in another universe, whom the sane target suggests is because his mind was turned by the discovery of this parallel existence and couldn't cope with the idea of another version of himself. This isn't exactly the greatest rationalisation for someone going mad, but we can assume he was already possessed of an extreme personality, this only serving to further warp his mind to the extent he can only succeed through murdering his alternate. This isn't the case for pretty much any other parallel universe story we'd go on to see in Trek, with perhaps the Intendant of the Mirror Universe the only one to be as extreme as Lazarus (well, she, and full-bearded Riker screaming about the Borg taking over his universe in 'Parallels'), but even she was more enthused and intrigued by meeting her double than wanting to kill her.

Lazarus' language certainly ups the stakes and helps us believe in the vague story motivation of the 'winking out phenomenon' as it is scientifically monickered to account for the entire galaxy going out of phase, or, well, winking out for a second or two - the Commodore that calls up Kirk to give him his orders says the effect has occurred in every quadrant of the galaxy… and beyond! I like that, because it makes it sound like the galaxy as we would later come to know it: the pie-shaped oval cut into four slices, one for each quadrant, and if they can somehow detect things happening even outside our galaxy that's something else that hints at an even greater understanding of, and scope to, the event than we'd ever seen before. It also makes me think of the anomaly waves from the Delphic Expanse of 'Enterprise,' and while they didn't have the power to pull off warping the three-dimensional structure of the sets in those days of limited visual effects, they do a brilliant job with simple devices: a star field with some kind of galactic nebula appears interposed with what we see, as if space itself is leaking into the ship. And later, the marvellously realised corridor, lit up in neon blue with the negative image of whomever enters it, the turbulent camera view swirling, floating, weaving and tripping in nightmarish, hallucinogenic form, everything slowed down and sluggish. Even on the planet when Lazarus rushes towards his enemy and the image blurs, blasting winds kick up dust and bend plants, flashes fill the screen, and people are flung around, it's so full of indescribable weight of moment.

It would be easy to see the entire episode as a daft, eccentric and wacky B-story out of some fifties sci-fi serial, with bad makeup, indeterminate production values and pulpy, almost indecipherable ideas muddled together. Even Lazarus' little spaceship (a 'time chamber,' a 'time ship,' as Lazarus calls it), looks like some retro cool design from the fifties. The momentousness only adds to its feeling of unreality: if Kirk doesn't get to the bottom of this it could mean the end of all life, not just in our area of space, or even our galaxy, but our universe, and a parallel duplicate too! The stakes couldn't be much higher, yet the puzzle is abstract and uncertain. What should he do? He's trying to help Lazarus, but it's not until he meets the other one that he realises he's been working with the wrong one whom, if he'd succeeded in getting through to the antimatter universe, would have set off a catastrophic explosion. At least, I think that was the threat… It doesn't matter when Kirk goes through to that side, or, seemingly when the other Lazarus comes over here (so maybe it's only when both meet in the same universe?). There's much that doesn't make sense, its logic impenetrable for being so vast a concept of destruction on a magnitude we can't conceive of, because we can't conceive of Everything (or even Everything x2).

The Commodore's orders don't even make a lot sense: he mentions evacuating the surrounding areas of ships and colonies, and sending in the Enterprise to work it all out without any backup, but if this could spell the end of everything there'd be no point moving anyone anywhere and Starfleet Command would be better spent throwing all their resources at this problem! That may have been before they knew about the likelihood of annihilation, then just the possibility of an invasion (a Code Factor 1 message: invasion alert! Another one? - we only just explored that in 'Arena'!), but even so, the responsibility rests heavily on Captain Kirk, his ship the bait. The inconsistency in the production side of things, from Lazarus' beard to the move indoors from a previously open and expansive external environment are added to the inconsistency of the story. So what is there to like? The atmosphere of the piece, and it is this, combined with a strangeness that, when added together with the out of tune production and uneven storytelling, actually makes the whole thing more cohesive for being universally messy and confused. It's hard to pin down, but I suspect, had this been turned into one of the films (say, Harve Bennett took a shine to this one rather than 'Space Seed'), it would have fared as badly as 'Star Trek V.' And I would have liked it a lot. Because I like 'Star Trek V' a lot: sometimes ambition supersedes petty concerns over effects and story logic, sometimes it's enough to be presented with something baffling, so vast and incalculable that its charm is what makes it, and I think this has some of that kind of charm.

It can be a little boring when Kirk and Spock are discussing their outlandish speculations on the fate of the galaxy and what might be happening, and they're deep into discussing the technical issues and spouting the technobabble. But it's all done in earnest, with seriousness, which the Kelvin Timeline films could never do because they'd always be doing it with tongue in cheek, cocking a snook at the audience, winking… the winking out phenomenon would have taken on a whole new meaning; a demeaning meaning; the alternative factor, if you will… I'm starting to bleat and babble like Lazarus himself, but that's the sort of episode it was. It helps that, like Sybok, I like Lazarus. He seems as earnest as anyone else in the story, he has these great, serious, emotional pleas to be believed, and to explain, and to find and stop the terrible being he is sworn against. "He is death - anti-life," is his description, which fires the imagination, and you think that no shambling rubber monster suit is going to cut it this time, and indeed, nothing could live up to the imagination after such admonitions and warnings. So it was he, himself, that was his own nemesis (shades of 'Star Trek Nemesis' and many other duplicate doppelgänger stories), the calm, rational, cool version from the antimatter universe stark and strong contrast to his wild accusations and tales.

A lot of trouble could have been avoided if the crew of the Enterprise had lived up to their brave Captain, intelligent Science Officer and warm Doctor, most specifically the Redshirts. What of them? I'll tell you what: they do a terrible job! The guard assigned to Lazarus when he's on the Bridge should have stuck close to this unknown guest, but instead he doesn't follow him directly into the Turbolift when the man storms out. On the upside this does give us the chance to see a bit of the technology at work, but so subtly you wouldn't even think of it - Lazarus walks in, the doors close as the Redshirt waits calmly, then walks in when they reopen, and Lazarus walks out alone when he exits, so you can tell from that they're deliberately implying that the Turbolifts aren't in name only, they really move some! It was about a second between Lazarus entering, the door closing, then opening again to admit the Redshirt which tells you how fast they can go. It doesn't excuse the guy, of course, just as letting the Captain do all the work is no excuse for Redshirts on the Landing Party! They just stand there watching as Kirk struggles with the slippery Lazarus, and do nothing to help! Nor does Spock, who could have easily reached over and dropped the guy with a touch. It wasn't like Kirk ordered them to help, though, so maybe he prefers to do it his way and doesn't require interference? And I have to say, if it had been Scotty manning the Transporter Room instead of Mr. Redshirt Work Experience Student, Lazarus wouldn't have got off the ship!

Scotty is notable in his absence, as is Sulu, especially right after an episode where everyone was clearly involved. Uhura does her usual communications work, and there's an added frisson that these are priority messages from Command coming in, but apart from that… Oh, Mr. Leslie (or Mr. Lesley if you go by the end credits), gets his best episode so far: not only does he man the Helm, sit in the Captain's Chair (again), is given orders, the Captain addressing him by name, he even gets the odd line or two. So where's the Mr. Leslie action figure, and why no appearances in the motion picture series? He was robbed! But seriously, it is good to have the usually silent regular figure on the Bridge actually a part of the story a little bit, even though it's at the expense of Mr. Sulu. Sulu probably didn't mind being absent for that shift, considering a repeat of the old ship wobbles and people thrown around (which hasn't happened as much this season as I'd have expected). Their timbers were most definitely shivered this time. There's even a repeat of what happened in Phaser Control in 'Balance of Terror,' only this time the noxious gases fill up the Engineering 'B-side' and Spock doesn't have to rush down there to pull anyone out. And I must mention Kirk using the cool little mini computer again - this time it's in Sickbay, and it has a disk in it. Talking of which, Uhura drops one of those disks into the armrest on the Captain's Chair, which I had never seen before and didn't realise it had that capability - that must be one high-tech chair!

The lasting impression of the episode is one of mystery and awe, the impossible sacrifice of a man locked in eternal physical combat with his own image a potent symbolism for something. Maybe the episode isn't very well regarded because it doesn't make a lot of sense and it does come across as muddled and confused, but for me it retains a poignancy that I must have first felt in childhood (possibly the same reason 'Star Trek V' strikes a chord, too). There's no gathering on the Bridge at the end, everything isn't fine - yes, the ship's safe, but at great cost to one individual, no matter how freely he took on the responsibility. And I like the look of the episode, mainly featuring outdoor locations, seeing a bit more of the ship, and generally the atmosphere of portent. When they stated that if Lazarus' ship was destroyed in our universe it would be destroyed in the antimatter one also, I don't think it meant that if anything was killed or destroyed here it would destroy it there in parallel, it was just the ship that was the doorway at each end of the corridor between, and shutting off one would do the same to the other. It was fun to realise I watched this almost fifty years to the day of its original broadcast, but the only answer to the question 'what of Lazarus?' is that he'd still be fighting the good fight.

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