2001: A Star Trek Odyssey

Star Trek: The Motion Picture graced theater screens a little over a decade after the eponymous TV show was unceremoniously canceled at NBC. Despite a massive letter-writing campaign (one of the first of its kind) lobbying to keep the show on air, show creator Gene Roddenberry had lost all enthusiasm in the face of studio budget cuts. Warnings that the show was living on life support despite fan feedback and that he should expect the cord to be unplugged drove Roddenberry into a deeper depression.

Gene's lack of creative input, coupled with the budget cuts, all but guaranteed the show's cancellation. But despite the best efforts of NBC executives, Star Trek continued to live on throughout the ‘70s. Reruns of the show via syndication became increasingly popular, and the fan base continued to grow through fan conventions and meetups (also amongst the first of their kind). Following a successful letter-writing campaign urging President Gerald Ford to rename the first Space Shuttle after the U.S.S. Enterprise, the show's influence could no longer be ignored. Star Trek reached a pop culture peak it could never have dreamed of achieving in its original lifetime. 

Armed with this strong continuing relevance, Roddenberry worked his way back onto the Paramount lot and pitched ideas once again. Thoughts were thrown around for both another television show and a movie, but in the wake of the Star Wars phenomenon, a movie with the Star Trek name seemed like a predictable success.

Unfortunately for fans of both, the resulting picture had almost nothing to do with the preferences or aesthetics of a film like Star Wars. You've probably heard this movie cited as the most boring one of the group. Folks felt cheated. Instead of a thrill-a-minute flick, they instead received what was perceived as a cold, calculated novel of a film. What I wish more people understood however, is that it is anything but.

Sure, in a lot of ways, the movie represents the opposite of what the original show had to offer. Gone are the bright, distinct uniforms and Jolly Rancher buttons. Hello wood trim paneling and dentist outfits, an aesthetic that remains wholly unique in the history of the franchise—Ilia’s in particular stands out as the most inspired of the new uniforms. After this film, the costumes would morph into a more stuffy, naval aesthetic that unfortunately pervades the rest of the series.

Also gone is the sense of comradery and warmth that the Enterprise crew brought weekly. Now, the actors more often express concern and frustration. No one seems happy to be there, and how much of that is meta and how much of that is directed seems indeterminable. But despite these things, the movie takes on the best of what the show had to offer. If anything, it outdoes its source material and remains the most human of all the films.

In Star Trek: The Motion Picture, the Enterprise crew faces a threat unlike any other when forced to reckon with an unimaginably large alien force calling itself V’Ger. Shrouded by a large cloud, V’Ger seems to destroy everything in its path… and it’s heading directly for Earth. Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and his crew, having dealt with threats of this nature during their five-year mission, are rallied by the space force Starfleet to once again helm the Enterprise and investigate the matter.

From frame one, the Jerry Goldsmith score slowly submerges us into a feeling of anticipation without rushing towards the point. The first shots of the Enterprise ship go on for SIX WHOLE MINUTES… but there’s a feeling when watching today that a scene like this will never be seen again (for better or for worse).The model work on display is some of the best pre-CGI. The subtle details, like the exhaust burns near the torpedo tubes on the K't'inga class Klingon ships as they pull closer to frame, drawing ever closer towards the mysterious threat that our protagonists eventually face, is incredibly captivating. Something about the tactile, hands-on work displayed in these models and makeup effects brings immense gratification. 

Douglas Trumbull of 2001 and Silent Running fame leads the brilliant VXF work, and composer Jerry Goldsmith’s work would go on to define the Next Generation of Star Trek scores. The way his orchestra will soothingly underscore a non-verbal emotional moment, and then suddenly drive it home with the reverberating sound of synthesizers is one of the many alluring aspects of the picture.

Director Robert Wise brought back the original Star Trek cast in addition to these new collaborators. Wise’s sci-fi experience (see The Day the Earth Stood Still and The Andromeda Strain) and his deft hand behind the camera brings a much-needed focus to this first film of the franchise, especially when coupled with Roddenberry’s authoritative grip on the story and script. This comes as no surprise, as Roddenberry was famous for rewriting other writers’ scripts on the show. In fact, Roddenberry attempted to argue with the WGA for shared script credit on The Motion Picture, but the Guild ultimately rejected this appeal. 

This first entry highlights the enduring conceit of the entire franchise: it's about the journey of personal understanding we all undertake, and how terrifying it can be. While it's fun watching Kirk and co. phaser baddies and punch giant lizards week to week, the original show was always at its best when it focused on the "where no man has gone before" aspect. Not necessarily the physical exploration of the space around us, but the exploration of the unknown possibilities within ourselves—and what that journey means for those who are important to us and the greater universe we share. The film places a great amount of importance on peace. Kirk tries to talk and philosophize through the issues that face him, not resorting to violence. The Enterprise only fires one torpedo in the entire runtime, and it's just at some rock.

“Jim, this, simple feeling... is beyond V'Ger's comprehension”

As the film progresses, the crew learns more about V’Ger’s mission, and discovers how it parallels their own. Even something like V'Ger, more advanced than anything, shares with us the most basic of desires: to understand who we are and what our purpose is. But V’Ger is missing the indefinable human quality that fuels our own journey in answering these questions. Kirk, Spock, and the crew come to realize this; and eventually utilize it to try and save the day.

I'm not sure if Gene Roddenberry ever truly understood his own work. It seems that fans had to inform him of the utopian future he just happened to create as the setting for his network "Wagon Train to the stars” adventure serial. But boy, did he seize on this newfound sense of humanism like no other. The first Voyager probe was launched in 1977, followed by Voyager II later that same year. At the time, this stood as one of America’s greatest scientific achievements. It's no wonder that Star Trek: The Motion Picture takes such inspiration from this contemporary triumph of space exploration. It’s easy to imagine Roddenberry, telling anyone who would listen that THIS is what it is all about. WE as a species accomplished this. Aliens didn't build the pyramids, Kubrick didn't fake the moon landing. HUMANS did this, and we should all be so proud. The Motion Picture oozes with this sense of wide-eyed amazement and wonder at the human journey, and for me, almost nothing else in the franchise comes close to matching it in that.

Unfortunately, neither Paramount nor fans were so taken with it. Despite the solid financial success of this film, the franchise would continue without Gene's personal involvement. His role was reduced to a ceremonial executive consultant credit and Paramount happily burdened him with most of the blame for the film’s reception. The later films would pivot away from the first movie’s style and pacing, leaning more into the emerging action/adventure blockbuster that had been kicked off by Star Wars. It can't be called a mistake, but in retrospect, this quick change of direction might be one of the weaker decisions for the franchise in the thematic sense. This and probably TRON stand as the last gasps of that heady ‘70s sci-fi vibe. Stories like these will never see that height and spectacle in pop culture again.

I must admit, it's been a rough time for me personally. I just turned 24, and everything since then has seemed hell bent on reminding me that the road ahead will not always be easy. But, in times like these, Star Trek has always been and has continued to be of great comfort to me. There's something about the earnestness of its vision, the promise that while in the present world things may seem so bleak, there is a future worth living for. It never fails to enrapture me. I'll never live to see the kind of future Star Trek displays, but maybe our descendants will. I don't know when, and it doesn't look like it's coming anytime soon. But at least for now, I can take comfort in the promise.