Now seems as good a time as any to watch it, so...tonight on #wenchwatches
This film was of course famous as "the one with the whales". And it's been a divisive one throughout Star Trek fandom. Many loved this film, many loathed it. As a kid, I was in the latter camp. I would dread a rewatch of 4, but you needed it to complete the three film arc. As I grew up, I discovered many who said this was their favorite of the Star Trek films at the time. This let me to reconsider my childhood opinion.
Let's watch!
I've warmed on this film considerably over the years. It was famously put that after the Enterprise crew had experienced "Life and Death and Life again, it was time to lighten up a little." This was one of the first films that reminded me those who create these films are people, just as human as you or me. We've seen examples of this sort of "production team catharsis" before in other more famous projects.
The anime FLCL was very much a way to the production team behind Evangelion to net a much needed reset. The less known series NieA_7 was similar for the team behind Serial Experiments Lain. In that way, Star Trek 4 is in good company.
Star Trek 1 was a tempestuous production that nearly didn't happen at all. Star Trek 2 bloody and cold and paid for in the "series dearest blood." 3 a much, much needed rejoining despite further death. Time to lighten up indeed.
There's a number of firsts in this film that go by in just the first act alone without much comment. This may be the first time we've seen any sizable portion of the Federation Council on camera. We've seen select members in previous films and The Original Series, but never more than a handful of actors.
This rolls right into the next reveal. One of the first Klingons see on camera who is *not* a warrior in the conventional sense.
Instead of the typical rubber, black fur, metal, and spikes, the Klingon Ambassador's outfit is soft and a kind of cornflower blue. It feels very much like a ceremonial purposes, a culturally specific demarcation. It's more than that, however, as we quickly learn from John Shuck's performance.
Here we have the first klingon which *feels* klingon. There's a powerful, almost Shakespearean presence to the man.
This contrasts heavily with the more villainous presentations from TOS. You can clearly see where they built the entirety of The Next Generation's version of klingons from just this opening scene.
The final first is more subtle. Star Trek 3 *feels* like a modern film. It feels sharper, the depth of field better, and a clarity of color the previous three films lacked. While ILM did return on this film, something in their technical toolkit changed to render it so.
Much of the first act is establishing. Reminder, this was released in 1986, and while consumer video wasn't unheard of, it was no where near as popular as it was in the 90s. Audiences would need to be reminded of what had happened in the previous film. To it's profound credit, Star Trek 4 does an excellent job in this regard.
Through the Ambassador's presentation to the Federation Council, we're given the highlights of The Search for Spock. as well as the current sociopolitical circumstances. It goes by quickly enough that we barely notice the exposition. The use of it as "evidence" allows such a brief replay without breaking the audience's immersion.
Running in parallel with this are two other subplots, bringing together all of the necessary elements to have a good plot. On Vulcan, our Enterprise crew is readying their commandeered Klingon craft to return to Earth, presumably for a court martial. Meanwhile, in space, a brutalist cylinder makes it's way toward earth as well. It has no apparent weapons, fires no shots, issues no threats, and disables all craft in it's path by robbing them of power.
The antagonist's craft is actually a favorite of mine. Before this, I had rarely seen a fictional spacecraft that looked so simple, yet also not. The rough texture on the ends, as well as the nearly mottled "concrete" pattern of light it reflects is just delicious to the eyes. The ship design does one better; it adds a oddly textured sphere held in place by a powerful energy beam.
And then there's the *sound*.
I've went on and on about sound design before. It feels so unappreciated in film, yet I *adored* how the craft sounded here. A droning pulse combined with that shrill, almost mournful trilling.
It's only later we learn what trilling really is. When listened to it from under water, we get to this film's plot device; it's whalesong.
But not just any whalesong, humpback whales, and ones that...went extinct by the 23rd century.
Oh.
Whales. It's contrived, isn't it? It certainly seemed that way by the 90s when I had enough of a concept of the outside world to think it weird and cheesy. Granted, the idea of the whales going extinct was a very real possibility in the time. Even though this lighthearted film could have decided to do nearly any damn thing, they decide to plug into environmentalism to leverage their media presence for some small modicum of good in the world.
Another element that went unnoticed to me all these years was...the cold war. While this isn't a cold war film much like Wargames or tangentially, The Manhattan Project, the majority of the film is set in the 1980s. The film exploits this for some cheeky humor.
As any Trek fan knowns, Checkov is Russian. And given this film is set in the US in the 80s, the sequence of all him asking where the "nuclear wessels" are is an even more delightful moment.
This same scene also had a wonderful moment for the production crew. They were literally filming downtown, not with extras, but walk-ons from the street. A rule is such walk-ons do not need any special credit or contracting as long as they aren't in a speaking role.
And then one of them *does* speak. While the film crew kept rolling to keep things natural, after yelling "cut" was some excitement.
Apparently, one of the production crew loved the take so much that they had to run down the street to catch her so as to sign a release. Even the shooting of this film had some goofy moments.
This is actually one thing this film surprisingly gets right. While the content is lighthearted, it's premise a bit silly but not farcical, the dialog is genuinely funny.
The razor whit of McCoy's comments hearkens back to some of the best exchanges between himself and Spock in The Original Series.
You'd think that Spock would come across as particularly artificial and out of character with humorous dialog. On the contrary, his deadpan delivery feels entirely consistent and played well by the script.
Spock is indeed not himself, and still recovering from, you know, being dead and then not dead. This allows for some enjoyable playing with the character's normal behavior through awkwardness instead of mischaracterization.
The goal here is also cleverly two fold. We not only get to have fun with Spock being more Spock them usual. It's also character development. Instead of leaning on the difficulty of his recovery, it happens largely in the background throughout the film. By the end of the movie, Spock is much more himself once more. It's a clever trick while not ignoring the plot.
It's not just McCoy or Spock, but the film is giving many of the characters some moments to shine. Scotty is often known for occasionally humorous one-liners and pithy statements rather the humor, but the movie really gives him one of the funniest moments in cinematic history.
"Hello, computer".
Like the rest of the film, it's silly. It's ridiculous on its face, but it still feels completely natural. The audience knows much of the genre conventions of Star Trek, down to being able to talk to computers. The character *doesn't* know computers of the era can't do that either. The intersection of the two is a good, mutual chuckle. The film isn't laughing at it's audience, it's *lampshading*. That is, it points out a thing for effect that normally would not be.
The timing this film has with its scriptwriting is something I didn't appreciate until now. As fun as the second act is, it lasts just long enough to be entertaining without wearing out the welcome.
Okay, we've had our fun, maybe we should get back to that whole saving the world thing?
"Noon tomorrow!?"
The third act is often when the film experiences a dramatic rise in action. It's when the central premise of the film needs to be confronted. This part of the film also usually coincides with the part of the Heroes Path known as the Depth of Despair. It's a moment where the story denies the protagonists the achievement of their goal for one moment longer.
You could argue that Checkov's capture by the Navy is part of that Depth of Despair, but the threat feels so distant. And that's intentional, the film is tipping is hand, letting us know our heroes will succeed, even if they have to cause a little chaos in a hospital. It's perhaps the most fun sequence the entire film has, and it comes at exactly the right moment.
Genre films with an environmental message often are heavy handed. What Showa-era Kaiju fan didn't roll their eyes at the hamfisted messaging squeezed in in the closing soliloquy? Sadly, Star Trek 4 is no different.
The whaling sequence is perhaps the most heavy handed the film gets. It's designed to elicit maximum emotional reaction after all the investment we were given in George and Gracie.
@socketwench - Fun fact, the copy of the early script I had, which I've since lost, had the whales as Adam and Evie. A LITTLE ON THE NOSE THERE.
