Who Mourns For Adonais?

DVD, Star Trek S2 (Who Mourns For Adonais?)

And the award for most improved episode goes to...

I had the impression that I liked this episode from past viewings, but I wasn't sure about that, especially after watching a good chunk of the way into it on this occasion. It begins with the wackiest, most silly 'Star Trek' ideas, perhaps up to that point in the series, with a giant transparent green hand bearing down on the Enterprise from out of the blackness of space to hold them suspended in its grip. It's one of those things that has gone down as being very Trekky, so much so that the last film featured it in the end credits, among other recognisable references (and I have the feeling it also showed up in that daft, psychedelic 'Short Treks' episode with the Tardigrade and 'Star Wars' droid fighting it out through the Enterprise's history, 'Ephraim and Dot'). It may be remembered well, but that doesn't mean it's well remembered, and it's not even an original idea in what it does, since only three episodes ago in 'Catspaw,' the ship had been just so held in space. There's an odd scene at the start where Scotty's going uncharacteristically gooey over a young lady, set up for later, and then we get a floating head in space - is it a Cytherian or a fake god, the $164,000 question? Yes, it's a fake god, prefiguring 'Star Trek V' by over twenty years. He invites our crew down to his planet and we're off. And so is the episode, apparently, very little to grip onto, but it was early days.

Apparently with the motive of shaking things up, Spock is forbidden from beaming down since he reminds this super-being of Pan, thanks to those pointed ears (perhaps, as in 'Friday's Child,' he'd be expected to come up with a solution to their hostage situation more quickly and without the resident brain box there's more tension?). He probably hasn't met a Vulcan before in all those five thousand years of waiting, although it does make me wonder what he was doing all that time. We know for 'The One' a thousand years is like a day, and a day like a thousand years, so maybe he followed that rule and time has passed swiftly for him. On the other giant green hand, perhaps he had other, non-human visitors to practice on, in which case it's ominous that we see no sign of them, and an idea of where things might go for our crew. There's no guarantee that any aliens ever visited, the Enterprise is far out in space, after all, although the planet is known, but had been deemed not worth exploring as yet. Was that a directive put into human heads by this Greek god so he had time to prepare for their arrival, or was he sleeping much of that time and only now awakes from his millennia of slumber? However I looked at it, so far: so-so, when it comes to getting something out of the episode. I was so uninspired that I didn't even really appreciate the excellent production design.

It's clear they had a goodly sum to spend on these early episodes as each of the first four has either been a location shoot or an elaborate studio soundstage redress that has been impressive to see. Not remembering the exact episodes in the season off the top of my head I'm expecting a lot of the latter half to be ship-bound as the cash dries up, but for the moment it's lavish and a far cry from the reputation of creaky sets. Just as we had that little extra touch in 'Metamorphosis' of wispy clouds in the sky, this time we get the tall trees swaying gently in the breeze, as well as a separate woodland enclave - the greens department should have been awarded their own laurel leaves, if there was a greens department, because it all looks good. Because of high hedges and the central temple in which Apollo, for that is whom he claims to be, sits like Abraham Lincoln's statue in the Lincoln Memorial, our eye is always drawn inwards to that area with its columns and the marble picnic table bearing a huge bowl of fruit (expertly avoided being overturned when Scott goes flying!). Because I was so underwhelmed by the episode as a whole to begin with, I didn't appreciate the artistry and spatial awareness of this set, but as the story grew in my estimation, so the scales fell from my eyes and the quality of the stage, for that is what it is, was revealed. A little like the Western town and its simple theatre-like fronts in 'The Spectre of The Gun' to come, this had a simplicity that was also a frame for the story, that focused your mind on the characters and events - this episode could very much have been a stage play, like most of the best Trek stories.

If you think about it, the episode is pretty derivative, it has the usual tropes that the series had developed and you could almost say it's a remake of 'Space Seed': they find a man of the past, someone who has been waiting for humanity so that he can fulfil the purpose of his life and be a leader of men; he requires adoration and obedience; and has a weakness for women. Who knows, if ship's historian Marla McGivers hadn't chosen to stay with Khan (sealing her death sentence, though she didn't know it then), she might have been the crewmember who was part of the Landing Party in place of Lieutenant Carolyn Palamas, the A&A officer (Archeology and Anthropology, nothing to do with motor vehicle breakdowns!). Perhaps Palamas is a replacement for that lost crewmember, even if their disciplines are somewhat different, as she clearly knows her history. The difference between Khan and Apollo is that, while they're both deluded about might giving right, Apollo has the greater case for thinking that way since he does have powers beyond our understanding. Or does he? It's not very clear what kind of being he and his kind are. Sure, we have Kirk coming up with a theory on the fly that sounds good, all about how the Greek gods of ancient mythology could have been real beings, aliens who came to Earth with all their technology or power and seeking worship from the primitive humans of the day (even the Bible itself hints about 'mighty men of old'!), but it's a bit off-the-cuff speculative, and if anyone it should have been Palamas who came up with the idea really.

Like most 'TOS' villains, this godlike entity has his weaknesses, most especially a power source that needs charging up though the adoration of his adherents (like Kirk, that's just a theory I came up with, but he does suggest that he needs worship in the same way humans need food, so…), and one that is fallible to weaponry (especially when he needs to rest after using the power), but also the inability to think three-dimensionally (to use Khan's famous mistake as a metaphor). He's waited so long for humans to find him, and according to him that is the only reason he stayed on this planet (though we don't know if this is the only planet he pitched camp), having a somewhat flattering faith in the simple humans he knew to eventually achieve space travel and come to him. Of course we're taking all this on trust, and being a petulant and impatient type (especially for one who waited five thousand years for worship, he seems very testy when he doesn't get it!), it could be that his poetic language and grand tale-telling is just that, he's merely trying to impress, or perhaps is self-deluded. The question is why he never returned to Earth? If I remember correctly, and this is where the episode starts to show something deeper than mere silly sci-fi, he tells Palamas he left because all the other gods gave up the ghost and scattered themselves to the winds, moving on for pastures new, effectively (a bit like the Caretaker left behind by his kind in 'Voyager'). He was the one that couldn't let go and so rather than follow them into oblivion/the next life/another galaxy or dimension/whatever, he chose to make his home on the unremarkable Pollux IV and wait.

It's quite a tragic story, and Apollo himself is a tragic figure, this being who only wanted what he considered his due, but who was outgrown, unwanted and left alone with only his hope for comfort - to offer the simple life to his followers, as it was thousands of years ago without the need for technology or strife, but also without the challenges of exploration that this era of humanity embraces. He could have moved on as the other beings did, and as he eventually does in his anguish, and although Kirk's wistfulness at the end is a trifle misplaced (after all, would he really have allowed he and his crew to be enslaved just to please this misguided being for even a moment?), the triumph of the episode is in making this angry, toga-wearing false god into a sympathetic character who you feel sorry for, not just for the outcome, that was inevitable, but for the spurning of Palamas on Kirk's orders (that made me think of Burnham's casting off of young Spock in 'DSC,' though here it made much more sense), when in fact she wishes she didn't have to, his rejection by the little people (as Q would call them), a devastation, being a simple enough soul that that was all he really wanted for his existence. He's no subtle, crafty fellow, he's almost childlike in his quick emotions, yet also magnanimous in the sense that he doesn't just rain down lightning and destroy them all, and wants to have these people to provide for. He's set himself a role that simply isn't necessary and is looking for what he needs in the wrong place, and that well-written characterisation lifts the episode above the initially simple setup of the crew finding a Greek god and having to beat him.

Apart from Apollo being eventually so well developed (and always well acted by Michael Forest who never returned to official Trek, but did play his character again in a 'fan film,' I believe, decades later), there were two points in the episode that changed my whole appreciation of it, or lack of, to really getting on board. The first comes with Kirk's plan to deal with their captor (that's another thing - they've been held captive in every episode so far this season!), by risking their lives to force him to use his power, thus weakening him enough that those who survive can try to overpower him (wisely, as many opponents of the Captain would have liked to do, he silences him by depriving him of air in a Darth Vader way, though foolishly doesn't remove Kirk's voice indefinitely, not realising this was his greatest threat!). It's not the boldness of the plan, nor the bravery of it, but in its failing I was impressed. Palamas isn't in on the action since she's already become consort to Apollo and the first conquest over to his side (if he'd simply politely asked for followers there's a chance she and others on the ship might well have been won over to him, but he had to force it and go for total dominance), so she doesn't know what's being attempted, but she sees what's likely to be the result of it and remains loyal enough to her Captain and crew that she steps between them to cool Apollo's wrath, much to Kirk's chagrin, saving their lives, but ruining their chance to escape. Showing a plan failing raises the episode above standard fare because there's always much more to be learned from failure than an easy victory, so the episode doesn't take shortcuts and becomes something more because of that.

It's not just that, it's also that we see the desperate compassion of Palamas. Yes, she was easily won over to this imposter who is also genuine, a pretty gown enough to get her on side, but that only led to her listening to his genuine nature and the flattery that he was drawn to her (even though she was the only woman in the party!), but she still has her Starfleet training within her - like McGivers, the adversary they face slots into exactly the kind of character she admires, but she isn't selfish enough to sacrifice the lives of others to hold onto what she wants and is attracted to, which shows the selfless nature of people at this time, or in the service at least. It comes down to Kirk needing to have the words to make her face up to the situation. Kirk's gift is his persuasive tongue, but it's also the power of truth that courses through him and forces Palamas to make the right choice, loyalty to her crew over loyalty to Apollo and her real feelings. It's about overcoming personal emotions rather than indulging them, and if you're expecting me to bash 'Discovery' at this point, you'd be right: they could learn a lot from 'TOS,' though sadly it seems far too many of the writers know far too little about the series they're supposed to be prequeling… Having just forced myself to re-watch 'DSC' Season 2, emotionalism is such a dominant force of that series, but this episode demonstrates what I love about Trek: self-control.

With Kirk seeing that Palamas is the last hope for his ship and crew the episode goes up another notch as he appeals to all that is good in her, loyalty and duty over wonder and strong feeling, a personal struggle for her, and a course that you can't be one hundred percent certain she'll follow through on. But she does. Apollo is enraged at the rejection and this is where effects, both physical and visual, match the production design, with thunderbolts and a madness of rage pouring from him as the camera pushes in on this vision of wrath, meaty arms upraised as light flashes around, the foliage and Palamas blown about in the tempest. This is the time to strike, and though the Enterprise has been out of action for most of the episode they find a way to send down their own lightning, the power and precision of Phasers proved as they stream down on the temple, source of Apollo's power, leaving only burnt rubble, while the grounds and statues around are left untouched, a truly powerful weapon. It's clear after this that there's more to Apollo than his temple powerhouse since he's still able to magnify himself to giant proportions after its destruction, and it's as if he lets go of the physical world when he disappears as he earlier described the rest of his kind doing, leaving us with a mythical impression of him that they were more than mere mortal entities, appealing to our sense of mystery, especially one that will now never be solved.

In reality, like Khan, Apollo could well have come back in the films had they chosen that direction, he has that larger than life theatricality that Trek film villains often portray, though it's hard to see how a vengeful ex-god would work in a personal revenge story against Kirk since the character seemed more far-seeing and 'big,' not just in the physical sense, but in broadness, an ancient being that wouldn't get mixed up in subtle affairs such as this, even though all he wanted was to be part of the world of men. It was really just a desire to return to the past, bring back the old ways, the glory days, the grand times, and in that respect he's even more of a sympathetic character, this needy god, this pilgrim of the past, a past lost and forgotten even by races that still live. It's this ability to dive into a kind of poetry about the past and touch on a mythology that we share with Trek characters since what is a couple of hundred years compared to thousands, so this shared understanding of mythological history gives the viewers a bond with them. The episode isn't only concerned with such aspects of legend and myth, there's quite a lot of technology on display, perhaps as a way to emphasise the spare, simple world Apollo wishes to restore: not only do we see all the regular devices any self-respecting Landing Party wouldn't leave without (Phasers that get melted and fused, Communicators, Tricorders - even Dr. McCoy's scanner which he almost surreptitiously uses to scan Apollo), but more high-tech equipment up on the ship.

Sulu's foldout viewer is used again, as are the stylus 'clipboards' so favoured by Yeomans in this time (and seen in 'DSC'), which Spock gives Lieutenant Kyle, as well as the hand viewer Palamas wrote her report on and gave to Kirk at the beginning of the episode, and some crewman is using a kind of portable computing device next to Sulu's station as if in association with what he's doing, so there's a lot of technical stuff going on. Most importantly, Uhura shows that she's more than a glorified receptionist, getting down and dirty underneath her Communications station in order to fix a problem while wearing the blue technician's overall on top of her uniform. She knows her stuff and has some level of engineering understanding to be able to sort out the issue, Spock showing complete confidence in her, which is nice to see as they gradually, almost imperceptibly, add thin layers of detail to the lesser characters. I love the view from inside the hatch, something later series' did plenty of times, but wasn't as common on 'TOS.' It might appear old-fashioned with all these printed circuit boards around, but I always put that down to it being more complex than we understand, so naturally we compare it with things we know and in fact it's not what it appears, consistent with all the other futuristic tech on the series. One thing suggests a communications miracle since despite the fact they can't hear from the planet Spock somehow knows the being's name is Apollo and I don't think he said that until they'd beamed down. There's also the issue of the hand missing from the visual when the ship fires Phasers.

It appears that one of those rare scenes (at least for this stage of the series), when all seven regular characters appear on the Bridge at the same time, occurs early in the episode, but I'm not sure. We see all of them in the scene when Scotty comes to the Bridge, but Chekov's seat is empty and I wasn't sure where he'd gone, but if you look at the start of the scene it looks like him with head down working on some device on the deck near Spock's station, though it isn't certain to be him as he never looks up. Otherwise it was a lovely sight to see. Chekov gets to take Spock's role in the story, at least in the sense that he's the one waving a Tricorder around, though his main role appears to be to promote Russian greatness as the source of everything! I wonder if this is a result of Shatner's concern that Spock not be too integral to every story, and it certainly makes a different balance for the Landing Party away from the trio of Kirk, Spock and McCoy that had been used in all three previous episodes of the season. Scotty has a little more to him, even if it is out of nowhere that he's into young Palamas - the stunt work where he's thrown around by Apollo was pretty good! We learn that Starfleet officers are still receiving wages in this era since Kirk says Chekov's earned his pay this week, though he could have been talking metaphorically. Kirk also nails down how many serve aboard the good ship Enterprise, telling Apollo he has four hundred and thirty people aboard, which I think we may have heard already but it's always good to have technical details reiterated.

Perhaps Kirk's most challenging line comes when he tells Apollo that mankind no longer has any need for gods - I'm sure most Trek viewers would have got on board with that seeing as it's quite a humanist franchise, but much to their dismay, no doubt, he goes on to say 'we find the One quite adequate,' which is more evidence that Christianity is the main source of faith even in the 23rd Century, in line with the attitude of America at the time and which still persists deeply in the culture and day to day life, though you wouldn't necessarily know it from later Treks (although Captain Pike did mention church a few times in 'DSC,' in keeping with 'TOS'), so I appreciated that, though it would be far from the most pro-Christian episode of the season. It could also be there to reassure viewers that the prevailing worldview of the time wasn't being attacked when the theme of the episode is that humanity doesn't need 'gods.' I love that they treat the Greek gods as something pagan from history that had been moved beyond, yet the real God of history is still as real as ever, and with the Captain the one to say the line it gives it more weight than if it had merely been some lowly Ensign who'd expressed the attitude, though naysayers are always quick to suggest Roddenberry was 'forced' by the network to put such a line in and that he would have been against it, blah, blah, blah. But the truth is, it exists, and unless they recut the episode at some point to remove all such references, it remains there as a historical record (it should also be noted that Roddenberry was a complicated man with shifting views right up until he died - I always suggest reading 'The Last Conversation' which proves that).

For an episode that started so poorly I find it delightful that it grew in magnitude and power like Apollo stretching up above them (an effect that worked well), but it's also true that while the green space hand side of the story was going a little too far into silliness, it wasn't treated that way by the characters, they sell its reality more than by amazed or fearing expressions (as if travelling through V'Ger), by approaching it with respect and analytical data as they deal with anything they encounter, Spock reporting that it is a field of energy not living matter. This attitude of reality stops the episode from appearing to be 1950s B-film cartoonishness, even if on the surface it has that quality. Quality is something the episode gains, its traction taking hold as the personalities take over the story from the initial effects, and why it succeeds so well. Despite following Trek convention of beings of power who need to rest after using the source of same, or can be talked round with fierce logic, it's the personal that elevates it - Apollo was never going to be the type to listen and accept reason and rational argument because he has the power to get what he wanted and he knew what he wanted and had no moral compunction, in fact it was a completely different worldview, one that could only be defeated by engagement since they could hardly dismiss his claims or power over them in the physical, so freedom had to come through emotional means. That they throw in an explanation for the myths of ancient gods (like the Ferengi being the Roswell aliens), being based on fact, is almost a throwaway side dish of the episode which shows that it's neither schlocky sci-fi, nor the hardline stuff, but exactly what Trek did best: personal issues with science fiction trappings.

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