By Dean Cassella

I always look forward to seeing new incarnations of the Star Trek franchise, and this latest film, simply titled Star Trek, was no exception.  Although many disliked the last series, Enterprise, I had found it to be a refreshing change from the saccharine characters oft to be found in Voyager and, at times, Next Generation. Enterprise attempted to go back to the early, swashbuckling “cowboy diplomacy” days of the original series. So, for me the idea of extending the theme to a kind of prequel of the The Original Series was appealing. The film seems to have generated a lot of positive reviews (Rotten Tomatoes has given it 95%).

When I took my two older boys (ages 12 and 14) to see it, I was expecting, if anything, a thrilling ride. The opening of the film—it turns out that Captain Kirk was born on an escape pod in deep space—piqued my interest and then . . . it was all downhill from there. 

You may ask why I took to disliking the film, especially when almost everybody else seems to love it? This calls for a bit of explanation, so please bear with me.

Among university teachers today there is a term that is occasionally bandied about: the “digital natives.” These are the current freshmen and sophomores who were raised from the youngest age with the internet, ipods, text-messaging, etc. It has been said that they have a particularly difficult time focusing on anything that is not delivered in an electronic format, and even when it is electronic, their attention span is very short indeed. Such young adults, for example, tend to describe ‘old’ films (i.e. those produced before they were born) as “boring.” I suspect this is a result of constant exposure to video games and film editing that make the two-second-per-cut TV commercials of yesteryear appear glacially slow by comparison.  

I would further add that the hallmark feature of the digital natives’ primary and secondary education has been a steady diet of self-esteem training. Such young people tend to have an aggressively positive view of their supposed academic/professional accomplishments, and often become impatient with anybody who suggests otherwise. With many of these young adults, to insist upon correct grammar or the use of non-internet based sources when writing essays brings frustrated accusations of pedantry against teachers. Learning how to express oneself in an articulate, grammatically correct manner appears to many of them to be a waste of time. Moreover, failure to learn how to do these things supposedly will have no bearing on the exciting, high-paying careers they believe are their due.

Obviously, not every young person conforms to this dreary scenario (I have had some excellent students from this group in my own classes), but the effects can definitely be seen everyday at the State U.

So what, you may ask, does this have to do with Star Trek? Quite simply, I find the film to be mythmaking for the digital natives. The producers of Star Trek want us to believe that James Kirk was essentially a hard-drinking, muscle car/motorcycle driving yahoo with a criminal record, before deciding to sign up with Star Fleet. His recruiter, Captain Pike, explains that this is just the type of person that Star Fleet needs. The situation reminds me of a friend’s wry assessment of Terminator II at its premiere run: “white trash people save the Earth!!” Although the film barely alludes to Kirk’s three years in the academy (how boring!), we are rest assured that his extremely high aptitude scores more than compensated for his deviant misbehavior. 

I have yet to speak to a parent whose child was doing poorly in school that did not claim that said child was ‘brilliant’ but simply lacked the focus and motivation to do outstanding academic work. 

Mr. Spock, as it turns out, was a rebel in his own right. Understandably touchy about his half-human origins in a society as racist as is that of the Vulcans, Spock over compensates by throwing himself into his studies, and by striving to be an über-Vulcan. All this is well and good, until almost everybody, including his own father and his older self (thanks to yet another breach in the time-space continuum . . .yawn . . .) urges him to get in touch with his emotions! One of the most well-defined traits of the Vulcans in the Star Trek universe is that they systematically repress their emotions: to do otherwise results in a return to brutal savagery. Consider what happened to T’Pol in Enterprise when a charming rebel Vulcan talked her into getting in touch with herself and quitting her meditations … she became violent! But in modern ideology, getting in touch with your feelings and ‘letting go’ is a necessary prelude to brilliance.

There are other such problems with characterization throughout the cast of characters. One example must suffice for now: Uhura (who in the Original Series was a refined and genteel lady) is now an alcoholic. I do not see any other way to interpret her first appearance in the film, wherein she walks into a bar and orders several drinks for herself, to be filled all at once. The scene cannot help but remind me of the binge drinking problem that plagues American college campuses. In digital native lore, women are supposed to be able to hold their liquor as well as men can (no matter if this flies in the face of current research in both science and social science) and hedonism never gets in the way of brilliant accomplishment.

The film’s idea of moving into high action is to ask us to believe that a whole motley crew of greenhorns (the only seasoned officer of any note on the bridge is Captain Pike, and Mr. Sulu does not even know how to disengage the emergency brake of the Enterprise!) sets out on its maiden voyage to answer a distress call from the planet Vulcan. Pike is quickly dispatched, which then leads to a power struggle for command of the ship between Kirk and Spock.  It should be added that Kirk is, for all intents and purposes, a stowaway who was barred from participating due to misbehavior at the Academy. In the end, it turns out that the raw recruits save the day, and Kirk is transformed from a court-marshaled lieutenant to captain of the ship literally overnight. 

Now that’s what many people today, particularly, I would argue, young people, want to hear. Raw talent, which, due to self-esteem training seems to be in enormous abundance (think of Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegone “where every kid is above average”), will cover any number of follies and indiscretions, and catapult the bearer to superstardom. Although the original Captain Kirk was on the impulsive side, it was also true that he was a very hardworking and disciplined young man (how could he have been otherwise?) I distinctly remember him describing himself as drearily serious at the academy. If I were on the crew of the Enterprise, the new Kirk would inspire no confidence in me whatsoever, simply because it would be obvious that he was going to get himself killed, and me along with him.

The acting in the film was, overall, quite good, but the editing is so fast that it is sometimes hard to focus on the story. Even at those brief moments when two people are merely talking each other, the camera has to swirl around them in a frenetic way. 

In conclusion, the film may well prove to be the perfect symbol of American culture and society as it makes the transition from its Silver Age to its Bronze Age. Let us hope that, for us, there is someone left responsible enough to steer the ship.