Director: J. J. Abrams
Writers: Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtzman, Damon Lindelof
Stars: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana
Opens: May 16, 2013
Screened: May 15, 2013
John's Grade: D
This is a spoiler-free review
Don’t take that to mean that Abrams is a hack; far from it. Indeed, he is perhaps the cleverest man in Hollywood today. His single greatest talent – greater even than his ability to blind audiences with lens flares – is his ability to sell anything to prospective filmgoers, not on merit but on potential. I have never seen anybody so adept at generating hype for his work. If Abrams had nothing to his name but two cow pies and a box, I guarantee you he would find a way to part you from every last dollar in your pocket based solely on the promise of what lay inside the box. (Pssssst… it’s cow pies.)
Abrams’s uncanny skill at salesmanship is all the more impressive given his dubious big-screen track record – and it really is dubious when you examine it. He wrote and directed arguably the least of the Mission Impossible series and the terribly disappointing Super 8, and he directed a Star Trek reboot that has divided fans as to its worthiness. He was a co-writer of Armageddon and a producer of Cloverfield, movies that speak to Abrams’s “style over substance” inclinations.
But Abrams is no fool. He knows he can only pitch that mystery box so many times if you keep coming away disappointed. If he can’t be a master craftsmen of clever, moving narratives, then, he can dazzle you with spectacle and nonstop kinetic energy. Never mind that it’s all the very definition of “sound and fury signifying nothing”; Abrams makes sure you never have a moment to think anything deeper than, “Oooooh, pretty!”
And so it is with Star Trek Into Darkness. In the opening seconds, we’re thrust into the middle of some inexplicable madcap caper that has somehow landed the captain and chief medical officer of the starship Enterprise in a spear-chucking chase scene straight out of Indiana Jones. We’re off and running, literally, and you better have great lung capacity, ‘cause we’re not stopping for the next 132 minutes.
Abrams ensures that Stuff is Steadily Happening. The “SSH approach,” as I like to call it, means you’ll never have a moment to reflect on what just happened; a wise choice on Abrams’s part, since this would provide time to smell the cow pies at the heart of this particular mystery box. How does our villain, a man who is under exceedingly close scrutiny by Starfleet, have the liberty to approach a compromised member of Starfleet and arrange for his assistance in a plot that kills dozens of people? How does this villain fly a gunship into what surely must be the most restricted airspace in America? How convenient is it that transporters function precisely when and where they absolutely must in order to extract a character from a story-crippling predicament? Aren’t these Enterprise officers just one-note skill set vehicles utilized to advance the plot whenever necessary?
Don’t expect to be asking these questions during the film; Abrams won’t permit you the time. You surely won’t have a moment to ponder deeper questions like how Star Trek Into Darkness fits into the greater Trek vision, which, again, is good, because you would surely be disappointed if you did. Hope and wonder? You’ve come to the wrong place, pal. This oppressively bleak Trek certainly lives up to the “darkness” in its title, both in tone and in the hues of gray color palate, excepting interior shots of the Enterprise, which has become a whitewashed, sterilized environment.
The story, too, has been sterilized of any of Trek’s loftier themes or messages. We’re not exploring the universe or bettering mankind here; we’re just letting SSH propel us through a relatively generic sci-fi yarn where a plucky crew of under-characterized misfits squares off against a megalomaniacal military despot with scant motivations or logic behind his plots. Logic is also largely absent from the solutions the crew finds for their various and sundry predicaments. Threats never rise above “surrender or be blasted,” and the two-fisted approach is employed in the resolution of most problems. Even Spock, that paragon of logic, is reduced to MMA fighter.
Unsurprisingly, nobody learns much of anything out of all this clamor. Ostensibly, Star Trek Into Darkness turns on the notion that Spock learns what it means to care so much for a friend that you would break the most sacred rules to save him. That’s what Kirk does for Spock at the start of the film, despite Spock’s fervent protestations. But Spock is never placed in a reciprocal situation. Kirk is later imperiled, true, but unlike the initial scenario where Kirk must choose between his friend and the Prime Directive, it’s a straightforward matter of self-preservation and vengeance for Spock. There is no moral ambiguity, no difficult choices to complicate the decision-making process: the bad guys are wholly bad and must be terminated with extreme prejudice, pure and simple.
Maybe Trek fans will be too busy geeking out over the constant callbacks to Trek lore to care about the film’s storytelling failures. Abrams may not be a Trek fan himself, but he has packed Star Trek Into Darkness chockfull of references to classic Trek episodes, characters, and creatures of old, right down to a tribble. The villain himself is pulled from the pages of Trek lore. When Spock is uncertain about this villain’s intent, he dials up a cameo from a beloved member of the original Trek crew, who informs him that it is forbidden to provide information that would affect this alternate Trek timeline… and then goes right ahead and provides the information anyway. It’s a perfect example of how, in the SSH approach, characters are positioned as one-off problem-solving machines to be used and disposed as needed.
But all the callbacks really do is serve to remind us that this is a hollow imitation of past greatness. Nowhere is this sad realization more stark than in the anticlimax, pulled beat for beat from arguably the greatest moment in Trek film history. Back in its day, this moment was deeply meaningful, moving, and earned. It was the culmination of hard choices made by characters who had been impacted by their earlier experiences and found themselves truly changed by the end of the film. By contrast, the conclusion of Star Trek Into Darkness is robbed of all its gravitas within minutes, as the consequences of self-sacrifice are conveniently scrubbed away via deus ex machina. The “twist” ending is perhaps the lamest committed to the silver screen in recent memory. The outcome is so telegraphed that every drop of emotional weight is sucked from what should be the film’s most heartfelt moment. A few moments later, we’re asked to hold our breath as the Enterprise, powerless, plunges towards Earth. How can we be expected to feel genuine concern for the crew? If this were Trek by way of George R. R. Martin, sure we’d be scared because we’d know that choices carry risk and consequence, but in Abrams antiseptic future, even the ultimate sacrifice can be washed away with a splash of J. J.’s Whitewashing & Revitalizing Tonic.
Now while Star Trek Into Darkness may be hollow, it sure is visually stunning, not so much for the color palate – the red vines and painted white natives of Nibiru, the planet where the opening scene occurs, being a notable exception – as for the neat vision futurist vision of life on Earth. Scenes from London and San Francisco give us a glimpse into how sleek and stylish our lives may be 246 years from now. It’s also worth noting that despite initially resisting shooting in 3D, Abrams makes relatively effective use of the extra dimension. A space shuttle, for instance, looks impressive as it turns towards you and joins a formation. The movie cost $185 million to make, and every penny shows up in the impressive visuals.
If sights, sounds, a self-referential story, and mindless escapism are all you seek, Star Trek Into Darkness delivers the goods. Woe to you who expect a Trek movie to reflect core Trek ideals, though. Abandon all hope, ye who yearn for character development, reasoned problem-solving, or genuine emotion. This is Trek-dusted popcorn; never expect more than that and you won’t be disappointed.
Speaking personally, Star Trek Into Darkness marks the moment where I finally make my break from Abrams. I’m no different than anyone else. The man keeps sucking me in with high promise, and repeated disappointment doesn’t stop me from shelling out for his next mystery box, certain that this will be the one containing gold instead of cow pies. Well, no more; I have had it with the unfulfilled promises. Star Trek Into Darkness has pulled off a mighty feat: not only has it killed my enthusiasm for future Trek films, but it has killed my hopes of a rebirth of relevance for the Star Wars franchise. Of course, Abrams holds the fate of both Star Trek and Star Wars in his hands. He will be directing the upcoming Star Wars film, and the hype machine has already begun. Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me; fool me five times… well, that’s just one time too many. Damn you for killing my enthusiasm for two of my most beloved science fiction franchises, J. J. I’ve finally accepted that the dark object peeking out of your next mystery box isn’t the tip of Vader’s helmet.