Star Trek Into Darkness (2013, Dir. J.J. Abrams):
Bruce Wayne auf weidersehn,
Dirty Harry, Make my day,
Terminator, hit the north,
Alan Moore knows the score,
Riffs? Yeah! Can U dig it?
– Pop Will Eat Itself
Give J.J. Abrams this: he knows the power of a good riff. Weaned during the bold new age of Lucas, Spielberg and cable TV, his brain has been hard-coded with certain cinematic memories like a chorus from a favorite tune, and his filmmaking career has been built on referencing, reheating and repackaging these moments, in shiny (if not quite brand-new) boxes. As far as populist moves go, it’s genius, since these memories are part of our cultural DNA. Simultaneously appealing to veterans in the audience who nod when he steals a reference (Hey! I know where that’s from!) and the kiddies who are encountering all this for the first time (Hey! That’s neat!), Abrams covers all the bases. Look no further than his Super 8, a film set in the 80’s which is not so much a valentine to vintage Spielberg as it is a monument to Abrams’ moviegoing childhood, the wellspring of all these appropriated fantasies — the film experience as edifice and memorial. It’s small wonder that out of today’s filmmakers, he has been the one pegged to resuscitate old warhorses like Star Trek and Star Wars.
Abrams’ 2009 reboot of Star Trek pulled off a difficult juggling act: unlike other recent Trek movies and series, it was peppy and slick enough to work as an event film for the cineplex crowds, while channeling enough of the original series’ sweaty, technicolor flair to appeal to the oldies. That the story imploded on itself much like the planet Vulcan did under Romulan attack was beside the point — the film’s goodwill and eager-to-please cast was enough to carry the day. The stakes might not be higher in Star Trek Into Darkness, but from the get-go it operates at a disadvantage. Having invented an intriguing alternate universe for Captain Kirk and company, how to set sail into new seas? Would the new series find its own voice, or would it be content to plunder from old Star Trek stories and villains?
Not surprisingly, Abrams and his usual gang of collaborators (co-writers and producers Bob Orci, Alex Kurtzman and Damon Lindelof) hedge their bets. The first two-thirds of Star Trek Into Darkness is a clever tip of the cap to the original series’ predilection for tackling the social issues of the day in a sci-fi context: reeling from terrorist attacks by the mysterious John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch, going fire and ice), the Federation teeters on the brink of war, and we get the conundrum of a post-9/11 “kill ’em all” mentality threatening to override the old-school Trek values of peace and exploration (remember the late Cold War shenanigans of Star Trek VI?). Kirk (Chris Pine), obsessed with vengeance after the death of mentor Admiral Pike (Bruce Greenwood) during one of Harrison’s assaults, must wrestle with his better angels, with the eminently logical Spock (Zachary Quinto) on hand for sage advice and male bonding. When the pursuit of Harrison takes the Enterprise crew to the Klingon homeworld and an encounter with a familiar villain (at least, familiar to anyone who’s seen this movie), the stage is set for a nerve-rattling finale.
Star Trek Into Darkness buzzes along agreeably for its first hour or so; Abrams can still put on a show, and as always, he’s an expert hand with actors. Even though they have less individual moments to shine this time around, the main cast are more settled in their roles (the lone exception is Pine, who still seems far too callow as Kirk, even though the plot demands him to be reckless and foolhardy), and the filmmakers know when to go for the big “wow,” as when the Enterprise rises from the depths of the ocean (Trekkies will point out the technical impossibilities, but just roll with it), or when Kirk and Harrison must jetpack across debris-strewn space and through an airlock only a few meters wide. They’re also capable of understatement during a dramatic moment, as when Spock gets a memorable grace note with a dying Pike. There’s a fair amount of the speeches and debates that define Trek, but not to worry — Abrams usually smash-cuts to the next breathless action sequence or moment of peril whenever the talk threatens to slow the narrative.
That nerve-rattling finale, though? Fuggedaboutit. At heart, Abrams and his team have a TV sensibility — they know how to set balls juggling in the air and queue up multiple plot threads that should ideally be resolved over the course of an entire season, but they still don’t have a clue how to conclude a feature-length movie in satisfying fashion (some might say the same of their TV shows). When Harrison is revealed to be (spoiler alert) the most famous villain in Star Trek history, the movie proceeds to backtrack down the same dusty path trod three decades before by Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, right down to one of our heroes sacrificing himself to save the ship (but with a slight twist and a quick happy ending, because Abrams would rather be a showman and throw in a twist than actually present something that has consequences). Even worse is a final footchase through San Francisco that resembles a Star Wars prequel in its needless CGI (why have just a chase when you can have a chase on moving conveyor-belt ships?). Every potentially interesting avenue or character beat the film opens up — Kirk getting busted down in rank for his hot-headedness, the possibility of all-out war with the Klingons, the tenuous and not-quite-convincing romance between Spock and Uhura, the mysterious motives of Dr. Carol Marcus (Alice Eve), who doesn’t get to do much but emote and strip to her undies — is eventually shunted aside for empty “my ship is bigger than yours” spectacle. For all the pizzazz on display, by the time Darkness collapses in a heap of implausibility and been there-done that at the end, it’s clear that Abrams is only capable (or interested) in spinning some yarn and recycling a few moves; from moment to moment we may be entertained (or numbed, depending on your tolerance for the noisy action scenes that conclude the film), but a riff minus a song can only go so far.
Maybe Abrams’ true calling all along has been the Star Wars movies, which have preferred myth and high-tech thrills over the story-centric, high-minded ideals of a Star Trek. Spock’s public lover’s quarrels with Uhura might strike a false note in the context of Trek (no self-respecting crewman, let alone Vulcan, would air his dirty laundry so readily), but close your eyes and you can hear Han and Leia trading barbs. Likewise, Darkness‘s denouement stresses the importance of family, a subject that seemingly comes out of nowhere (although J.J. has shoehorned it into just about every project he’s ever been on), but one doesn’t need to stretch to envision Wookie group hugs in the next Star Wars movie. Darkness concludes with the crew initiating its five-year mission to “explore strange new worlds”; we’re back where we started, as the Kinks might say, caught in an eternal return, and new ideas are needed more than ever — which means that Abrams must be passing on the mantle, because it’s clear that he is still that pubescent teen from Super 8, drunk on the act of moviemaking and lacking the facility to figure out how to finish what he’s started.
