Star Trek

By Richard Romano

Let me say right at the outset: I really did like this movie. As a Trekker of long standing (35+ years), I thought the creators did an excellent job of capturing the spirit of the original series, casting believable young versions of the classic characters (with some exceptions), and at the same time reinvigorating the Trek universe in a way some of the later series and movies never really did. The effects work is incredible, and the writing, direction, and acting were generally excellent.

But I’m still going to make fun of it nonetheless.

There are the usual bursts of illogic that are typical of time-travel stories, and it’s probably a mistake to think too hard about them. It was a clever idea, in a way, to immediately start this new series of movies (which is what I assume they’re doing) by setting this all up as an “alternate universe” in which things are not as they were in the original series. This is a nice idea that lets them veer away from the Star Trek “canon”—or thwart the inevitable nitpicking from hardcore fans (like me).

To help readers identify (and perhaps steer clear of) deeply upsetting Trek nerdiana, relevant (that is, excessively dorky) paragraphs will be identified with the Movie Mis-Treatments Nerd Alert icon. Avoiding text so-tagged will thus also save me the embarrassment of admitting that I know these things.

Caveat: If you have not seen the movie and someday plan to, there be spoilers here!

That all out of the way, let the carnage begin.

Immediately, it’s an action-packed opening. Ninja throwing stars are shot straight at the viewer. Ya got me! Oh, wait, it’s just the Paramount logo.

Bad Robot? Next week on Lost. And now, the channel 10 news at 11... Oh, wait...

And then suddenly, we are zooming down the fretboard of a Fender Jazz Bass...no, wait...I think it’s a subway car going by, or it’s the end of 2001...I’m confused already. We zoom out and it’s the U.S.S. Kelvin. It’s a pretty hot ship. It must be in the same fleet as the U.S.S. Celsius. Interesting design; I think the Federation is sponsored by the Oscar Meyer corporation—it looks like the Wienermobile 2300.

They are picking up “strange readings.” This is how every Star Trek movie opens. Someone picks up “strange readings.” Like, say, a Thomas Pynchon novel. That’s usually pretty strange reading. As the captain—don’t know his name—watches, something large with giant metallic tentacles emerges from some kind of space vortex. It’s a safe bet that it’s not good. And immediately, it starts firing on the U.S.S. Oscar Meyer. “Deploy mustard! Activate the tunnel of chili!” barks the captain. He always was a bit of a hot dog.

Lots of things on the ship blow up. Reports the engine room, “The warp drive is knocked out. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He’s apparently never seen Star Trek; the warp drive was always getting knocked out. But then this is a prequel. They’re all going to have to get used to it.

Another hit, and someone is sucked into space. The shields are failing. The captain orders shuttles for evacuation. Suddenly, a mellifluous voice says “Hello.” A white, tattooed face appears on the main viewscreen. The captain is asked to come aboard the giant space squid to discuss a cease-fire. “Your refusal would be unwise.” I’ve been called into meetings like that. The captain turns to the helmsman. “Walk with me.” If he could walk that way, he wouldn’t need the shuttlecraft.

“If I don’t report in fifteen minutes, evacuate the crew,” says the captain, walking into the Turbolift. “You’re captain now, Mr. Kirk.” And the elevator door closes dramatically, just as it always seemed to do in the original series. So, that’s Kirk? Surely not James Kirk? Actually, it’s George Kirk.

The captain takes a shuttlecraft over to the giant space squid and lands. Back on the Kelvin, they are monitoring his vital signs. “His heart rate’s elevated,” someone comments. Really? I can’t imagine why. He is brought before the leader of the space squid, who sits silent and sulking. “Look at this ship,” he is told, as a holographic spaceship appears. I mean, just look at it. “Who is your commander?” asks the captain. “I will speak for Captain Nero,” says the henchman. Nero’s too busy fiddling. “Ask Captain Nero what gives him the right to attack a Federation vessel.” What gives anyone the right to attack anything?

Nero and his henchman exchange meaningful glares, and then Leonard Nimoy’s head holographically appears. Hey, Star Trek is on! I bet it’s a rerun. “Do you know the location of Ambassador Spock?” The embassy, maybe? “I am unfamiliar with Ambassador Spock,” says the Captain. The bald tattooed guys get curious. “What is the current stardate?” they ask. “2233.04.” Wow, it’s that late? They’d better get started on their Christmas shopping. “Where are you from?” the Captain asks. That’s obviously a sensitive question, as Nero turns his staff into a poleaxe. He charges at the Captain and plunges it through him. Okay, so I think we know not to get Nero a calendar for Christmas.

Back on the U.S.S. Wienermobile, the Captain’s life sign monitor indicates that he has been terminated. He’s dead, Jim. I mean, he’s dead, George. They all detect that the enemy ship is firing again. Everyone freaks out. Things blow up, wires fall from the ceiling, bodies fly through the air. Kirk orders General Order 13—Evacuation. I think a more Specific Order would be warranted at this point.

As people start heading to the shuttlecrafts, a very pregnant woman is wheeled down a corridor. She calls Kirk. The woman is George Kirk’s wife, and she is about to have their baby. George promises he will be right behind her. Unfortunately, the autopilot is knocked out, so George has to stay on board and...do something so that everyone else can escape. He tells the shuttle pilot not to wait for him.

As the shuttle departs and George fights off the enemy ship, his wife gives birth. He celebrates by ramming the Kelvin into the giant space squid.

Over the communicator, he hears a baby crying. His wife is handed their son, who actually looks a bit like William Shatner. “What is it?” George asks. Um, it’s a baby. What do you think it is, a German shepherd? “A boy,” she says. Ah. “A boy?! Tell me about it.” It’s five seconds old, there’s not much to say. It’s small, moist, and humanoid. “What are we going to call him?” George asks. “We could name him after your father,” she suggests. “Tiberius? You kidding me?” Hm...George Kirk’s father ruled Rome from AD 14 to 37 before being murdered by his nephew Caligula? Interesting. “Let’s name him after your dad. Let’s name him ‘Jim.’” And with that, the Kelvin explodes on impact. He’s dead, Jim.

And then we get the movie title, and we immediately cut to a 20th-century sports car racing across the landscape. The on-screen graphic—hey, that’s the Lost font—says that it’s Iowa. The car is being driven by what looks like a ten-year-old. Ah, I remember this bit from the movie trailer. This is a young Jim Kirk, who was obviously not the sharpest tool in the box as a kid.

The carphone rings—Hmm...Nokia still exists in the 23rd century? His stepfather chastises him for taking the car, and for good reason.

In the original series, Kirk had a brother, George Samuel Kirk, who was killed by the flying flapjacks in “Operation: Annihilate.” In that episode, he looked decidedly older than Jim (actually was played by Shatner with grayed hair and moustache). Presumably, he was actually younger and being Jim’s brother aged him prematurely. I guess he was technically Jim’s half-brother, as his mother remarried after George Kirk went to his fiery doom. I hate that I know these things.

Anyway, young Jim quickly hangs up the carphone and clicks on its iPod-like feature. Ugh; Beastie Boys songs are still around in the 23rd century? There goes the future. Jim tries to open the convertible roof, but it flies off instead. Now why would that button exist?

He passes another kid, whom he apparently knows, and a futurecop appears on his tail. He tries to outrun the cop. Great; I’ll bet he ends up on an L.A. freeway. He veers off down a dirt road, trying to elude the cop, and unwittingly heads toward a giant cliff. In Iowa? I guess there was a massive seismic event some time before the 23rd century, or perhaps it was the result of the Great Corn Uprising of 2137. As he speeds toward the cliff, the kid jumps out as the car plummets over the side. So...this is going to be the great space hero and savior of the galaxy? Huh. At the moment, he’s dumber than a bag full of hammers.

The radio is still playing as the car is demolished on the canyon floor below. I guess that’s why Nokia is still around in 200 years. The cop approaches the kid. “Citizen, what is your name?” Kane? “James Tiberius Kirk,” he says smugly. And...?

We immediately cut to the planet Vulcan, and what appears to be a learning center (i.e., school). It is a vast chamber filled with pits in the floor. Students stand at the bottom of these pits and 360-degree screens shoot test questions at them from all directions. Why do I have the feeling that this is what public schools are like in India? One of the students is a young Spock.

Interesting juxtaposition: young Kirk: rock stupid. Young Spock: staggeringly intelligent. And who becomes the hero? Sigh.

After class (or whatever it was), young Spock is confronted by a trio of bullies who tease him for being half human. Well, you know, it’s a safe bet that any given kid is going to be teased about something, so it may as well be something good. But wouldn’t bullying be considered an emotional response to...something? I mean, is it logical? But even Vulcan bullying takes place on a whole other level. “I presume you’ve prepared new insults for today,” says Spock. “Affirmative.” “This is your thirty-fifth attempt to elicit an emotional response from me,” says Spock. Yes, but who’s counting? Oh, he is. “You are neither human nor Vulcan and thus have no place in this universe,” is one comment. But is that logical? Most of the lifeforms in the universe—the Trek universe—are neither human nor Vulcan. So nyah. Anyway, the kids proceed to call Spock’s father a traitor, and his mother a whore. Well, that elicits an emotional response, and Spock pushes one of the bullies into a pit and proceeds to beat the Vulcan crap out of him.

Spock’s father is sent for, and Sarek (the guy playing him doesn’t much look like Mark Lenard) and Spock have an abrupt conversation. “Emotions run deep in our race...” Just ground the kid, for crying out loud. This is cruel and unusual punishment. Sarek goes on at great length about the place of emotions and the control of them. Blah blah blah. “You suggest that I be completely Vulcan, and yet you married a human,” says Spock. It’s a fair point. “As ambassador to Earth, it is my duty to observe and understand human behavior. Marrying your mother was logical.” It’s a good thing Sarek isn’t a marine biologist; Spock’s mother would be a manatee or a sea cucumber or something.

Some years later, a young adult Spock is preparing for his appearance before the board of the Vulcan Science Academy. His mother—Winona Ryder, who’s no Jane Wyatt—tries to cheer him up, and gives him some clothes she shoplifted. Oh, wait... Spock tells her that should he complete Kohlinar (that’s the ritual Vulcan purging of all residual emotion, and not a seminar conducted by former German chancellor Helmut Kohl) she should not think it a reflection on her. She is quick to point out that whatever course he chooses “you will always have a proud mother.” Well, except if he goes into the printing industry.

Then, Spock stands before the Vulcan Science Academy admissions board, a bunch of stuck-up prigs if ever there was one. They heap accolades on his academic achievement, but are perplexed that he has also applied to Starfleet. “It was logical to cultivate multiple options,” says Spock. “Logical, but unnecessary.” Huh? Anyway, he has been accepted. But soon he is damned with faint praise: “It’s truly remarkable, Spock, that you have achieved so much despite your disadvantage.” What, the haircut? “Your human mother.” Is utter lack of tact logical? Well, he shows them: he turns them down. If the admissions board had been wearing monocles, they all would have flown out of their eyes in unison. There is a tacit gasp. “No Vulcan has ever declined admission to this Academy.” “As I am half-human, your record remains untarnished.” Zing! “Thank you, ministers, for your consideration. Live long and bite me.” Prosper, actually. But it’s the way he says it...

Meanwhile, back in Iowa, a woman wanders through a loud, crowded bar. It’s Road House all of a sudden. She walks up to the bar and orders “A Klavney Fire Tea, three Budweiser Classics, two Cardassian Sunrises, and a Slusho Mix.” Wow, she can certainly drink, can’t she? And Budweiser still exists in the 23rd century? Well, there’s no accounting for taste. Wait...Klavney Fire Tea?

I also note that the bar menu is a flexible electronic display with moving and changing graphics.

I also note that the freakish-looking guy next to her actually looks like the kinds of people you find in these kinds of bars. Oh, but I kid Iowa.

Almost immediately, a young guy starts hitting on her. Yep, Jim Kirk. He is striking out, big time. “If you don’t tell me your name, I’m going to have to make one up.” “It’s Uhura,” she says. Uhura is apparently her last name, and she refuses to divulge her first name. He won’t give it a rest. Oh, just go Google it.

Her hailing frequencies are decidedly not open, but he perseveres nonetheless. “So, you’re a cadet, you’re studying. What’s your focus?” “Xenolinguistics.” Which is different from “Xenalinguistics,” or the study of the dialogue in Xena: Warrior Princess. She is surprised that he knows what that is. “Study of alien languages,” he says, “morphology, phonology, syntax. It means you’ve got a talented tongue.” The movie just lets the double-entendre go by and quickly moves on. There is some verbal jousting, which is interrupted by a beefy co-cadet coming over to presumably save her. “You’d better mind your manners,” says beefy guy. “Relax, cupcake, it was a joke,” says Kirk. Cupcake?

And, surprise, a bar fight breaks out. Kirk gets a few good hits in, but soon he ends up on a table bleeding from any number of facial orifices. A loud whistle stops the fight—it is the cadets’ commanding officer.

A short time later, the commanding officer and Kirk—who has napkins wedged in his nostrils to stanch the bleeding—are sitting at a table. It turns out that the commanding officer is Captain Pike, who has yet to be confined to a wheelchair and speak only in beeps, one beep for “yes” and two beeps for “no.”

Wait a minute. This guy is older than Captain Pike (played by Jeffrey Hunter) was in “The Cage,” which supposedly takes place some years after this.

Pike apparently did his dissertation aboard the U.S.S. Kelvin many years ago and knew George Kirk. And you, sir, are no George Kirk.

Anyway, “He didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.” What about when he died in that fiery crash into the space squid? Seems like a bit of a no-win scenario. Kirk mentions this. “It depends on how you define winning,” says Pike. I’d define it as “not losing.” Beep?

Pike points out that Kirk’s aptitude tests are off the charts. Aptitude for what? Crashing cars and getting into bar fights? Pike encourages him to enlist in Starfleet. Kirk pooh-poohs the idea. “If you’re half the man your father was,” says Pike, then, well, his father would be twice the man he is. “You can be an officer in four years. You can have your own ship in eight.” You can be having sex with green alien women in nine. So Starfleet is really easy. Kirk blows off Pike, but Pike gives it one last try. “Riverside Shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow, 0800. Your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes and saved 800 lives....I dare you to do better.” That’s pretty easy, actually: just don’t kill 800 people. Really quite simple. Kirk looks at him blankly. So...that would be two beeps, then.

After Pike leaves, Kirk takes out a little toy starship. Where did that come from? Does he carry it with him everywhere he goes? And it explains why he lost the fight if he had it in his pocket and landed on it. Or did Pike give it to him as a little recruiting tschotske?

As Kirk drives home, he stops and stares wistfully at the setting suns of Tatooine...er, I mean at a giant scaffolding containing a half-built starship.

The next morning—surprise—he drives over to the shipyard and joins the shuttle. He runs into Captain Pike. “Four years? I’ll do it in three.” Uh huh. Pike is no doubt rethinking the whole thing. Two beeps for sure. Inside the shuttle, Kirk whangs his head on an overhead beam. Don’t worry; there’s nothing inside there to damage. The cupcake guy from the bar fight stares daggers—or perhaps cupcakes—at him. Kirk sits down across from Uhura, who does her best to ignore him. Yeah, just wait until “Plato’s Stepchildren.”

There is a bit of a fuss as a cranky doctor comes on board complaining about how he gets sick in things that fly. Hmm...I wonder who this could be. He sits down next to Kirk and says, “I may throw up on you.” This is just like any commercial airline flight I have ever been on. “I think these things are pretty safe,” says Kirk. “Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats.” That sounds delicious! “And wait till you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles.” Again, this is like any commercial airline flight I have ever been on. He goes on and on about the perils of space travel. So why is he in Starfleet which, by definition, operates in outer space? “Got nowhere else to go. The wife took the whole planet in the divorce.” Wow, she must have had one heck of an attorney. “All I got left is my bones.” And a nickname is born, although I always thought it was because doctors were typically referred to by the slang term “sawbones.” He takes out a flask and has a swig, then offers it to Kirk. “McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” he introduces himself. You know, Bones didn’t become a crotchety old guy until the movies. He wasn’t quite that ornery in his younger years.

It is suddenly three years later. Wow; tempus fugit. The giant space squid is still out there. It’s been twenty-five years since it first appeared. What have they all been doing all this time? Playing pinochle? Judging from Nero’s face, not shaving, that’s for sure. He is summoned to the bridge as “it’s time.” Finally! They have arrived at the coordinates they calculated for...something. “We wait,” says Nero. “We wait for the one who allowed our home to be destroyed, as we have been doing for twenty-five years.” Well, he is patient, I’ll give him that. One of the henchman asks, “Once we’ve killed him?” “Kill him?” retorts Nero. “I’m not going to kill him. I’m going to make him watch.” No matter what he’s talking about, it sounds upsetting.

There is a flash of light, and a weird space vortex opens up. The strange spinning ship he had a hologram of appears and heads toward them. “Capture that ship!” orders Nero. “Welcome back, Spock.” To that same old place that you laughed about. Welcome back...

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, at the Starfleet Academy, Kirk and McCoy are walking across campus. McCoy reminds Kirk that “I’m a doctor,” and tries to talk Kirk out of taking the Kobayashi Maru test again.

If you’ve seen Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, you know that the Kobayashi Maru was the no-win scenario test that all potential Starfleet officers are supposed to take. Kirk is reported to have beaten it by cheating. This is not to be confused with the Kobayashi Magoo test, which involves having to pilot a starship without wearing one’s glasses and inadvertently bumbling into humorous situations.

Later, Kirk demonstrates that even in his Academy days he had a thing for pastel-colored alien women, as he is getting all Kobayashi Maru with a green-skinned coed.

However, her roommate abruptly comes home, and Kirk is ordered under the bed. The roommate is Uhura, and she immediately starts undressing. As she does so, Kirk ogles her Porky’s style from under the bed while she talks about how she had picked up an alien transmission from a Klingon prison planet that said that forty Klingon ships were destroyed by something. She then realizes that someone is under the bed. She is aghast to discover that it’s Kirk, and she hastens to mention to him that he is going to fail the Kobayashi Maru test in the morning.

And we are at the test. Kirk is cocky and calm and eats an apple noisily. Yeah, just wait until “The Apple.” As the virtual Klingons attack the faux starship, the computers flicker, and suddenly the virtual Klingons’ shields have gone down, and the faux starship can fire upon them and rescue the virtual crew of the virtual Kobayashi Maru. The test proctors are confused but not amused. It turns out that the Kobayashi Maru test was devised by—dum dum dum—Spock.

As a result, a hearing is called to investigate the matter, namely that Kirk violated the code of ethics. He insists he should be allowed to face his accuser directly, and Spock steps forward. He points out that Kirk had installed a subroutine in the test that changed the conditions of it. “In academic vernacular, you cheated,” says the guy conducting the hearing. A murmur goes through the crowd. Kirk then points out that “the test itself is a cheat, isn’t it? You programmed it to be unwinnable.” “Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario,” counters Spock. “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios,” says Kirk, obviously drawing on his vast years of experience. (The old Kirk in Wrath of Khan could get away with this line.) Surely some Starfleet military historian can cite many examples of no-win scenarios. Perhaps they should have a course on it. Then Spock goes where no man should have gone: “You of all people should know that a captain cannot cheat death.” Ah, playing the dead dad card. “The purpose of the test,” says Spock, “is to face fear, fear in the face of certain death.” Oh, like the SATs, if I remember correctly. Or the Regents Exams in New York state.

Before the hearing can continue to its logical conclusion—i.e., Kirk getting expelled—a aide rushes in with a message. “We are receiving a distress call from Vulcan. With our primary fleet engaged in the Lawrentian system, I hereby order all cadets to report to Hangar 1 immediately.”

Wait a minute...the primary planet of the Federation—Earth—is completely unguarded? All the other ships are away somewhere? Is that wise? And the only ones who can save Vulcan—a Federation member planet—are a bunch of cadets? (Then again, this was the premise of many a previous movie.) As everyone disperses, Kirk and McCoy glare after Spock. “Who was that pointy-eared bastard?” Kirk asks. “I don’t know,” replies McCoy, “but I like him.” Waka waka.

In the hangar, all the cadets get their ship assignments. Kirk has been put on academic suspension and is grounded until the board rules on the matter. “Jim, the board will rule in your favor, most likely,” says McCoy. They will? On what does he base that assumption? Does Starfleet like students that cheat?

McCoy rushes off to his own ship, then has an idea and grabs Kirk.

Meanwhile, Uhura has been assigned to the U.S.S. Farragut and she is not happy. She bitch-slaps Spock, who apparently had sung arias about how brilliant she was. She had all along asked to be assigned to the Enterprise. Spock says she had been reassigned so as not to create the impression of favoritism. Huh? Is promoting an exceptional student favoritism? Anyway, she gets her way and Spock assigns her to the Enterprise. Man, Starfleet is a bunch of pushovers.

Meanwhile, McCoy has an idea to get Kirk on the Enterprise. He injects him with a vaccine that starts to give him the symptoms of a disease. McCoy’s logic is that Starfleet code has it that the transport of a patient is up to the discretion of his attending physician. That is, Kirk is McCoy’s patient and thus where McCoy goes, Kirk goes. And since McCoy is apparently one of the chief medical officers on the Enterprise, McCoy has to go. I think for Starfleet black holes are less of a threat than loopholes.

In the original Star Trek pilot “The Cage,” Dr. Boyce (played by John Hoyt) was Captain Pike’s Chief Medical Officer. In the second pilot, “Where No man Has Gone Before,” Dr. Piper (played by Paul Fix) was Captain Kirk’s original Chief Medical Officer. Then again, there is nothing to suggest that McCoy wasn’t on either of these ships at the time in a lesser medical capacity. In fact, John Hoyt’s character in “The Cage” was a decided influence on a young McCoy and perhaps this is what turned him in a prematurely ornery old guy.

As the shuttle heads into space to rendezvous with the Enterprise, Kirk is feeling ill. “I may throw up on you,” he says. Promises, promises.

They arrive and gaze in wonder at the U.S.S. Enterprise. Well, at least we don’t spend twenty minutes flying around it like in Star Trek: The Motion[less] Picture.

NON-NERD ALERT: In the commentary track for this movie, the question is raised: what does “NCC” (as in the Enterprise’s serial number NCC-1701) stand for? I am extremely happy to report that I haven’t the slightest idea.

The interior of the Enterprise comprises vast warehouse-like spaces and more pipes and ductwork than Brazil. Does one typically find vast open spaces on a spacecraft? Isn’t it usually best to keep space to a minimum?

Spock takes his position on the bridge, and Captain Pike points out that this is the maiden voyage of the new Federation flagship—the Enterprise. Beep.

All the other ships in the fleet warp out toward Vulcan. As Pike orders the Asian helmsman to “punch it,” they go nowhere fast. The helmsman introduces himself as Hikaru Sulu, and admits he does not know why the ship isn’t moving. “Is the parking brake on?” asks Pike. Zing! No. Two beeps. “Have you disengaged the external inertial dampener?” asks Spock. You know, have you turned off the made-up technobabbly thing to make this joke work? Sulu realizes his mistake, presses a few buttons, and away they go.

Meanwhile, in sickbay, McCoy is carrying Kirk in, and gives him a sedative. Kirk passes out.

Back on the bridge, everything is moving along swimmingly. Pike turns to the navigator. “Russian whiz-kid. What’s your name, Chankov, Chirpov—” “Ensign Chekov, Pavel Andreivich” is the reply.

Oh, that is so not Chekov.

There is a bit of funny business as the computer does not recognize Chekov’s authorization code “Wictor Wictor,” and he struggles to pronounce “Victor Victor.” (He is also unable to rent the movie Wictor Wictoria.) Say what you want about the wacky Russian accent (initiated by Water Koenig, of course), but it’s entirely possible that the Russian language—and thus its accent—will evolve in a couple hundred years, just as all languages change over time. So I don’t have a problem with 23rd-century Russians saying “nuclear wessels.” However, I did have a problem with 21st-century Presidents saying “nucular weapons.”

And wait a minute, Chekov was— wait, hang on, better flag this...

Chekov was an ensign in the original series, which takes place at least fourteen years after the events of this movie. (In “The Menagerie,” the two-parter cobbled together from the original pilot, it is pointed out that Captain Pike’s adventures took place fourteen years before the time of the original series.) So Chekov stayed an ensign for fourteen years? Not much of a whiz-kid. Plus, in the original series, he was supposed to be young and a fairly new recruit and not thirtysomething, which is what his presence here as a seventeen-year-old would make him.

Chekov then makes a ship-wide announcement about a lightning storm in space that was detected in the neutral zone and that Wulcan—er, Vulcan—is experiencing seismic disturbances.

In sickbay, Kirk wakes up abruptly and says “lightning storm.” McCoy then notices that Kirk’s hands have swollen massively. “Good god, man!” Ah, so that’s who the Violent Femmes were singing about in “Blister in the Sun.” (“Let me go on, like a blister in the sun/Let me go on, big hands I know you’re the one.”) Turns out that Kirk is having a reaction to the vaccine McCoy had given him. Let’s give Kirk a great big hand!

Kirk says, “We’ve got to stop the ship” and races out of sickbay. Kirk is on academic suspension and is basically a stowaway, so I’m sure the captain will listen to him. No problem! He goes in search of Uhura. McCoy keeps injecting Kirk with various drugs. Forget the early days of Star Trek; I think this is the story of the Rolling Stones.

Kirk takes off and runs through the brewery...Brewery? Yes, the U.S.S. Enterprise has giant beer vats. Well...I may have to enlist in Starfleet! (“The lager’s at full power, Captain, the liver canna take any more!”)

Kirk finds Uhura and asks her about the transmission from the Klingon prison planet he had heard her talk about from under the green woman’s bed. As he is asking her this, his mouth goes numb and he can no longer speak properly. Or he had drained one of those giant beer vats. McCoy says, “Numb tongue? I can fix that.” “Was the ship Womulan?” Kirk asks Uhura. Great, now he’s turning into Chekov. Send him to the Agony Booth! McCoy jabs him in the neck again. Uhura says that, yes, the ship that attacked the Klingon fleet was Romulan. Now we’re getting somewhere.

On Wulcan—I mean, Vulcan—some sort of device hovers above the planet and an intense shaft of energy drills into the planet surface. The source is the giant space squid. On board, Captain Nero is informed that a bunch of Federation ships are on their way. You would think the Vulcans would have some kind of reaction.

On the Enterprise, Kirk races onto the bridge and insists that they stop the ship. Pike is surprised to see Kirk on board. He unleashes a lurid stream of beeps. Kirk is trying to explain that Vulcan is being attacked by Romulans. No one is really buying this. “Based on what facts?” Spock asks. “That same anomaly, a lightning storm in space, that we saw today, also occurred on the day of my birth.” No, that was just a birthday cake. “Before a Romulan ship attacked the U.S.S. Kelvin.” Kirk then points out the attack on the Klingons the previous day by Romulans. “And you know of this Klingon attack how?” Pike asks. Kirk looks over at Uhura for back-up. “Sir, I intercepted and translated the message myself,” she says. No one else in the Federation picked this up? “We’re warping into a trap,” Kirk insists. “The cadet’s logic is sound,” concurs Spock. Wow; that’s saying something. “And Lieutenant Uhura is unmatched in xenolinguistics, so we would be wise to accept her conclusion.” You mean no one else in Starfleet knows Klingon—the Federation’s primary enemy?

So this also means that Uhura remained a lieutenant for at least fourteen years?

Pike orders the bridge communications officer to scan for transmissions in Romulan, although said officer admits he can’t distinguish between Romulan and Vulcan. Oh, come on. Uhura points out that she can speak all three dialects of Romulan. “Uhura, relieve the Lieutenant.” Uhura pauses. No, not like that! Just take over his post. Um, I mean, take his position. I mean, that is... Oh, never mind.

The Federation really doesn’t seem to have its act together if these young cadets are the only ones with any basic skills.

It turns out that no one is picking up any transmissions at all from the area. “That’s because they’re being attacked,” says Kirk. Oh, would you just give it a rest.

They come out of warp at Vulcan and immediately find themselves in a vast field of wreckage and debris. They scrape against a dead starship, then come face to face with the giant space squid. Nero orders them to fire torpedoes. One hits the ship, and people fly around. Shields are down to 32%. Spock points out that the Romulan ray that is drilling into the planet is blocking all communications and transporters. Of course it is. And it’s also knocked out the ship’s plumbing, too, right?

Why would a drill interfere with communications and transporters?

Nero is about to fire on the Enterprise one last time, when he notices the hull. He then calls the Enterprise. “What does NCC stand for?” No, wait...

Nero appears on the main screen. “This is Captain Christopher Pike, to whom am I speaking?” “Hi, Christopher, I’m Nero.” Well, he’s being strangely cordial. No giant pike through Captain Pike? Pike insists that the Romulans have declared war on the Federation. “I do not speak for the Empire,” says Nero. Still fiddling, eh? “We stand apart, as does your Vulcan crewmember. Isn’t that right, Spock?” He has a certain Ben Linus quality about him, doesn’t he? “Pardon me,” says Spock, “but I do not believe that you and I are acquainted.” What, you don’t recall, that little bar on Vulcan, a few too many Klavney Fire Teas, and I do mean tease...

Nero tells Spock that they are not acquainted...yet. I guess a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet. Nero orders Captain Pike to come over to the Narada in a shuttlecraft for “negotiations.” Is this shuttle diplomacy? Beep.

Both Kirk and Spock protest that he will be killed if he goes over there. Ah, but Pike has a plan. “I need officers who have been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat.” Shouldn’t they all have training in hand-to-hand combat? Just what exactly do they teach at the Academy? Sulu raises his hand. “Come with me,” says Pike. “Kirk, you, too. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.” Huh? Chekov has the conn. Really? Beep beep.

On the space squid, Nero dramatically orders: “Prepare the red matter.” Is that his subtle way of saying that they’re painting the ship?

On the spinning ship they captured, there is a giant red gumball in a glass case. Bite the Big One indeed. They extract a small bit of it and load it into a torpedo.

Pike lays out his plan. Kirk, Sulu, and engineer Olsen will spacejump from the shuttle onto the device that’s scrambling transporters and communications, disable it, then beam back to the ship. Sounds simple. What could possibly go wrong? “Mr. Spock, I’m leaving you in command of the Enterprise.”

Pike barks some more orders. Then, “Kirk, I’m promoting you to first officer.” What? Everyone pretty much asks this same question, especially Spock. “The complexities of human pranks escape me.” They’re really not all that complex. “It’s not a prank, and I’m not the captain, you are.” So...chain of command means nothing in Starfleet? Aren’t there rules about this kind of thing? It seems they have rules and regulations for staggeringly trivial things, like letting doctors travel with their patients, but they skimp on the big issues, like who is actually in command at any given point.

In “The Cage,” Captain Pike’s second in command was Number One, played by Majel Barrett. I guess she was hired much later.

“Careful with the ship, Spock, she’s brand new,” says Pike as the elevator closes at just the right dramatic moment. Uncanny. Spock arches his eyebrow. Oh, go beep yourself.

I will say this about the guy playing Spock. He’s pretty good; and the resemblance to a young Nimoy is quite uncanny. However, I guess Vulcan males enter puberty much later, because he lacks Nimoy’s baritone. Even in the original series, Spock had a distinctive deep voice. This new Spock is still waiting for his voice to change.

Spock heads back to the bridge and calls sickbay. “Dr. Bury, report.” That’s an unfortunate name for a doctor. McCoy answers. “It’s McCoy. Dr. Bury was on Deck 6. He’s dead.” He’s dead, Jim. Or Spock. “Then you have just inherited his duties as Chief Medical Officer.” “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Was McCoy born old and grouchy?

In the shuttlecraft, Olsen, Kirk, and Sulu take their seats. It bears mentioning that Olsen is wearing red. Not predicting anything, I’m just saying... Kirks asks Sulu, “What kind of combat training do you have?” “Fencing.” Yeah, just wait until “The Naked Time.”

And they jump. As they near the platform, Kirk calls the Enterprise. Hey, I thought that thing was jamming all communications. As they are within 3,000 meters of it, they pull their parachutes. However, Olsen—who is wearing a red shirt, after all—waits too long to pull his chute and whangs into the platform. He slides over the edge and is engulfed in the drilling ray. He’s dead, Jim. Yep, as ever in the Star Trek universe, a red shirt equals death.

Kirk, of course, lands with only minimal difficulty, and he manages to retract his chute back into its pack. Pretty cool. A Romulan emerges from a hatch, and Kirk runs over to try to tackle him. The Romulan has a weapon and as he is fighting Kirk, it fires into the air—right through Sulu’s chute as he is coming down. Of course. Kirk’s own phaser is knocked out of his hand and falls over the edge of the platform. Pike will dock the cost of it from his paycheck, I suspect.

Sulu manages to land as another Romulan emerges. There is a strange vent that releases a massive burst of flame every so often. I think I see where this is going...

Sulu takes out a knife and it expands into a sword. He slices off his chute and starts dueling with the second Romulan as Kirk is slugging it out with the first one. See, they played it as a joke, but the fencing came in handy.

Kirk loses his footing and falls off the edge of the platform, hanging on by his fingers. The Romulan tries stamping on his hands, but Kirk is too deft and manages to keep moving his hands. The Romulans apparently have the reflexes of a giant sea tortoise.

Sulu finally manages to defeat his Romulan by pushing him onto the vent that ejects the flame. He’s dead, Jim. Sulu then saves Kirk by running the Romulan through with his sword. He pulls Kirk onto the platform. (Why do I suspect that it was at this point that George Takei walked out of the theater.)

As it turns out, Olsen had the explosives with which to blow up the platform. Of course. So they decide instead to grab a gun and start blasting everything randomly, which is surprisingly effective. Uhura announces that the jamming signal is gone.

On the space squid, Nero is told that the drill has been sabotaged, but they have reached the planet’s core. I gather from Nero’s expression that that’s what they were trying to do. “Launch the red matter.” And they do.

Chekov has been monitoring the planet’s gravitation, for some reason, and he tells Spock, “They are creating a singularity which will consume the planet.” “They’re creating a black hole at the center of Vulcan?” Spock asks. And they used red matter to so it, too. (I wonder if this movie is a loose adaptation of Stendahl’s The Red and the Black.) They have minutes before the planet is destroyed.

Spock orders them to contact Vulcan and signal a planetwide evacuation. Shouldn’t the Vulcans have been detecting this all along? And didn’t they see the dri