Showing posts with label Leonard Nimoy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leonard Nimoy. Show all posts
Monday, 25 July 2016
FILM REVIEW: Star Trek Beyond
Star Trek holds a special place in my heart, as it has done for many people for its 50 year history, combining thoughtful science fiction with adventurous derring do, characters we have all come to love and a positive, progressive ethos that spoke of the best of humanity. I reviewed Star Trek Into Darkness here back in 2013 and it was written, like this one, in that initial post-viewing glow. I liked aspects of Into Darkness then, but over time, the frustrations I spoke of during that film deepened. I watched it once more and came to resent it a great deal. I'm still not over it.
Into Darkness made the mistake of infecting Star Trek with a cynicism the show rarely possessed and the way they approached the story, the bizarre retread of Khan and the appropriation of Trek history was such a disappointment that I was ready to outright ignore the Kelvin timeline and await Bryan Fuller's TV series. I speak of this now to provide some context to my emotions going into Star Trek Beyond. I've been deeply reserved throughout the marketing campaign, growing more cautiously optimistic when the early positive buzz started filtering through, but still very hesitant.
It is, therefore, a joy to report that not only did I enjoy Star Trek Beyond, but it has managed to almost entirely renew my faith in the Kelvin timeline; STID means I will never be 100%, but hey, this is one hell of a comeback.
Captain James T. Kirk is three years into his five year mission of discovery and boldly going with the rest of the Enterprise crew. He's a little weary and considering making a promotional step that would take him out of the captain's chair and behind a desk. When a distressed refugee arrives at the Yorktown starbase (a truly phenomenal piece of design) needing help to retrieve her crew, it is, naturally, the Enterprise that is tasked with the rescue mission. They head off into uncharted space and straight into a trap that scatters the crew. Kirk, Bones, Spock et al. are forced to combine their smarts to outwit their rather angry opponent and get the crew of the Enterprise back together again.
What strikes me most about Beyond is that it feels, from the start, like a Trek story. The world around them has a tangible history to it, allowing for subtle callbacks to the Federation's history that fans will understand. Unlike the heavy-handed reference-flinging of its predecessor, Beyond simply allows its world to exist rather than feeling the need to consistently and loudly point it out. Much of this comes for an inherent respect of the property that they're working with, helped enormously by Simon Pegg and Doug Jung's screenplay. The love of Trek practically bursts through the screen on occasion and it's hard not to get swept up in such enthusiasm.
And, like the best Trek tales, Beyond manages to combine its adventurous tone with a thematic weight and properly worked character arcs. The key message here, oft-repeated, is the idea of 'strength in unity,' what the Federation stands for across the galaxy. The bad guy, Krall (an imposing Idris Elba), believes it's all empty rhetoric and that his particular brand of conflicted, battle-scarred individuality is the way to go. It sets up an intriguing opposite to Kirk who acknowledges the need for his crew at all times; he's never the individual hero here, but part of a team.
Justin Lin's direction yields some beautiful moments of sublimity including a gorgeous shot of Kirk surveying recently wrought destruction from a position of powerlessness. But Lin also can't seem to keep still. There are great looping camera movements around characters or through Yorktown, all of which look very pretty, but becomes a little tiresome as the film goes on. The editing during the action sequences falls into one of the common traps of never quite being able to convey what is happening. Some fights are more than a little confusing, which is a shame during some of the higher concept action sequences as there's some inventive choreography going on there.
When it comes to the cast, Chris Pine is one of the major strengths of Beyond, depicting the loneliness of command early in the film before slotting instantly into the leadership role as the narrative demands. He anchors the core conflict of individuality versus community in his performance that, at times, feels Shatner-esque in tone or expression, but without resorting to the parody of the character that the other two films lapsed into on occasion. This Kirk is a product of his father's death and all the anxieties that come with that and it's in the little moments that that comes forth, such as a close up of his hand nervously gripping his chair arm during a battle sequence that feels deeply human. It's not all drama though; the wicked sense of humour gets a chance to shine frequently.
That sense of humour spills into the other characters too, especially Bones and Spock. Karl Urban and Zachary Quinto are the most Bonesy and Spockish they've ever been; their expanded relationship is given the time to explore their respective roles as representatives of the heart and the head. They have a conversation about mortality, a theme of the film that gets a little lost in the action elsewhere, but here feels like a near-perfect microcosm of how they work together as the clash of heart and hea. The Bones-Kirk-Spock trifecta is also seen more and carries a real sense of how the trio's inter-dependence becomes essential to their relationship. It's the closest they've come to matching their Prime timeline counterparts and it bodes well for future instalments.
The other crew members are served well with Sulu and Uhura each getting their turn in the spotlight. The use of Uhura as the audience proxy with Krall is a clever play on her communications role, her conversations with him offering us insight into his history and motivations. The late Anton Yelchin's enthusiastic performance as the adorable Chekov gives the film its bittersweet note and he's a joy once again here, all badly pronounced Vs and gesticulation. Newcomer Sofia Boutella's Jaylah slots in well to the existing line-up and allows for that strength in unity theme to be played out in another format as she learns to work with the crew.
Above all, the message of hope that runs through Beyond feels needed now more than ever. There is no problem here that can't be solved with a little ingenuity, no obstacle that feels insurmountable if everyone is working together. In the current unsettled political climate, it feels particularly timely. The threats are clear and present, the stakes high, but you have faith, just like Kirk, that the crew will find a way out of whatever dilemma they've wandered into because that's exactly what they're good at. It's an enormously positive message and a love letter to the power of a united population. And that, to me, is quintessential Star Trek.
Now if I could just stop thinking about Madness every time I read the title...
- Becky
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Anton Yelchin,
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Saturday, 3 October 2015
FEATURE: Shocktober '15 - Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
Humans, as a species (particularly us Westerners), are spectacularly afraid of our own extinction, especially if it comes at the hands of monsters we don't know or understand. It's always been there, but recent centuries have seen this fear explode with the advanced knowledge that scientific research has afforded us. Way back in Frankenstein, Mary Shelley's eponymous creator feared that providing a female mate for his vengeful creature wouldn't keep to his promise of a peaceful life, but would instead create an army of likeminded creatures intent on wiping out the human race. Post-Charles Darwin and his Origin of Species, the idea that some random biological adaptation could take over from humanity as the dominant species began to run rampant throughout fiction.
Darwin's ideas of adaptation gave these fears scientific weight; humans were no longer at the top of the food chain by deific design, but by sheer, dumb luck. What would happen if a new adaptation came along? One which is smarter, faster, more deadly. Dracula is fraught with this idea that humans could soon be locked in what Darwin termed a 'struggle for existence' with a species that was much stronger and capable of consuming humanity in the form of the vampiric Count. It isn't enough to be scared of extinction, but we're also scared of losing our humanity, becoming something monstrous that may look human but is anything but. As 20th century horror and science fiction progressed, so did this idea of humanity's extinction, brought about by monsters who had adapted themselves into the ultimate killing machines.
Not only did scientific research make this feel like a more distinct possibility as the 20th century advanced, so too did the political situations that humanity found themselves in. The biggest science fiction boom since HG Wells arrived in the 1950s, a decade defined by uncertainty and paranoia thanks to the arrival of the Cold War and McCarthyism, forcing everyone to question their neighbour. The first adaptation of Jack Finney's The Body Snatchers capitalised on this dread in 1956, its protagonists unable to know who to trust as their friends and family are slowly subsumed into the emotionless pod people. The alien invaders are a unseen threat, benign in their evil and intent on eradicating humanity quietly and peacefully.
Phillip Kaufman's updated remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers doesn't have McCarthyism to infuse its scares with, but with an audience still reeling from the events of the Watergate scandal, it isn't without its own fitting context. One of the running themes throughout the 1978 film is that of the San Francisco infrastructure working against the remaining humans. Donald Sutherland's Matthew repeatedly contacts the police for help only to find them unresponsive and later, entirely taken over. City Hall becomes the base from which the duplicates distribute their pods to further take hold in the city and the wider governmental safety net is non-existent. It's a population let down by the infrastructure that is supposed to protect them, but is instead working to corrupt them in its efficiently systematic way.
Kaufman mounts the tension beautifully, layering on the odd circumstances steadily to produce a slow burning dread that never really lets up. It's a methodical approach to the story, much like the invasion itself. Little hints that something odd is going on build into more unnerving moments before the film crescendos into outright horror. He also uses a sense of the uncanny to render seemingly innocuous occurrences into something more disturbing; the blinking light of a ringing phone distorted through frosted glasses or footsteps on a pavement, gradually quickening into a sprint as a chase begins.
The low-key performances of the cast, all keeping their internal hysteria just bubbling under the surface, are essential to producing this unsettling effect. Sutherland's Matthew and Brooke Adams' Elizabeth are pragmatic heroes, attempting to solve the mystery and stay alive long enough to fight back provide an emotional core to the narrative. Leonard Nimoy and the additional baggage from his most iconic role is also well used as the apparent voice of reason, a sinister satire on self-help culture and humanity's hubris. A young Jeff Goldblum is also a lot of fun in his supporting role and his neurotic tics provide some nice jitters.
Its pessimistic ending, famously opposite to the more hopeful novel, feels inevitable after the the weight of despair that permeates the rest of the narrative. It speaks of a population disaffected by those leading them and fearing that their culture and way of life has been taken from underneath them. And for a film that tells the story of how humanity is lost, these emotions - the hope in the face of adversity, the despair at being let down - make it feel very human indeed.
- Becky
You can find my other Shocktober '15 reviews here.
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