That Which Survives

Redshirt has become such a generic term for a character who dies soon after being introduced that it has it's own Wikipedia entry. Different script writers use redshirt deaths in different ways. Nine unnamed crew die off screen in Where No Man Has Gone Before because an audience unfamiliar with Star Trek needs to have the damage to the Enterprise put into a context they can understand. "Ship's condition, heading back on impulse power only. Main engines burned out. The ship's space warp ability gone. Earth bases which were only days away are now years in the distance." Kirk's log entry means very little to someone new to Star Trek but nine dead is a concept which can be instantly grasped. An incident which killed nine crew must be serious. When crewman Darnell becomes the first Star Trek character to die in The Man Trap the purpose of his death is to tell us what the salt vampire does. In the case of By Any Other Name a quick and dirty fix to the story -to answer the question what happens to the Enterprise crew when the Kelvans take over- results in the memorable death of Yeoman Thompson.

It's an ongoing problem for Star Trek that in order to underline the danger facing a landing party someone really needs to die but that someone can't be a member of the regular cast. It's not so much a story telling problem as a suspension of disbelief problem. No redshirts die in The Doomsday Machine (Commodore Decker doesn't count being a fully fledged guest character as opposed to the anonymous crew who join the choir invisible in Where No Man Has Gone Before). Despite this lack of crew death The Doomsday Machine is an exciting story well told and the audience allow themselves to be swept along and, for want of a better word, to pretend that they believe Kirk might die when the transporter fails at a crucial moment. In The Apple it doesn't matter how high the death toll rises. A conga line of redshirts could have fallen into Vaal's maw. It wouldn't solve the basic problem that watching the story grind through its four acts is dull. Without that audience engagement The Apple seems stupid and the multiple redshirt deaths simply underline the ludicrousness of the five survivors of the nine person landing party being the four regular cast and one woman who beamed down.

The third season of Star Trek features the fewest redshirt deaths. Only seven by the broadcast of That Which Survives. At first glance it seems as if the production team are aware that regularly killing the supporting cast leaves the series open to parody and have decided to scale back the number of times it happens. Actually this is probably a symptom of the budget problems Robert Justman used to complain about. One simple money saving measure is to eliminate all those minor characters before filming starts. Having said that, looking at the list of third season episodes it's hard to spot ones where a few additional extras might have upped the ante and improved the story. The only obvious candidate is Whom Gods Destroy. If Kirk and Spock had beamed down with a few security guards for Garth to threaten, or confuse with his shape shifting ability, then the story might have seemed less static; the scene where Garth blows up Marta might make more sense if it was an Enterprise crew member rather than a woman to whom Kirk barely has any connection.

With all this in mind the teaser to That Which Survives surprises when a woman appears in the transporter room and kills the unfortunate transporter operator. For the first act we seem to be watching a traditionally structured Star Trek. The landing party is trapped on a planet facing a threat and isolated from the resources of the Enterprise. In Whom Gods Destroy Kirk and Spock are trapped below a security screen. In The Apple it is Vaal which keeps the landing party and the ship separated. The Empath has the Enterprise leave orbit, and the story, because of a powerful solar flare. In That Which Survives the Enterprise is transported, "nine hundred and ninety point seven light years," from the planet. In theory this should make the end of act one, when Lieutenant D'Amato is also killed by the mystery lady, the point where all tension drains from the script. The landing party now consists of Kirk McCoy and Sulu, and there is no way any of them are going to be killed. However the teleplay is written by old hand John Meredyth Lucas, from a story by Michael Richards, and he does his best to make some changes to the formula.

Aware that threatening the lives of the landing party is a dead end for generating tension, the story switches back to the ship. Losira, the strange woman with the killer touch, appears back on the Enterprise and kills an engineer then sabotages the ship. This links the planet side and ship board stories more directly than normal. The story is opened out, rather than closed down when the audience realise no one else can die, and the power of Losira is emphasised. Another interesting variation on the normal story is that both the landing party and the Enterprise crew believe the others to be dead. The side effects of the power which flings the Enterprise across space make the landing party think the ship has been destroyed, and vice-versa. This leaves the landing party focusing on survival rather than simply thinking about getting back to the ship.

Elements of That Which Survives feel like an attempt to tell a ghost story in a science fiction series; there's a mysterious planet haunted by a strange woman whose touch causes death. The recent Doctor Who story Hide was a similar attempt to tell a genre crossing story, and in both cases the shift from a haunted house/planet story to science fiction is a little awkward as the story attempts to find a scientific explanation for the spooky events. One problem is that the climax to the Enterprise plot, Scotty's trip into the service crawlway to shut off the fuel, doesn't have any relation to the rest of the story. It's tense, and a good showcase for James Doohan, but it has nothing to do with the mystery of the strange planet or Losira.

Another problem with That Which Survives is that the dialogue can be over-ripe. It's nicely sharp in places. Kirk's "if I'd wanted a Russian history lesson, I'd have brought along Mister Chekov," is great, as is Scotty's " I know what time it is. I don't need a blooming cuckoo clock, " as Spock insists on counting down the time remaining. Unfortunately in other places the dialogue skids over into the melodramatic. Sulu's "how can such people be, Captain? Such evil and she's so, so beautiful." Or, when McCoy wonders who killed D'Amato, Kirk's insightful, "something or someone did." Spock suffers from several particularly bad attacks of cute dialogue.

UHURA: Mister Spock! Are you all right?

SPOCK: Yes. I believe no permanent damage was done.

UHURA: What happened?

SPOCK: The occipital area of my head seems to have impacted with the chair.
UHURA: No, Mister Spock. I meant what happened to us?

SPOCK: ...Can you give me warp eight?

SCOTT: Aye, sir. And maybe a wee bit more. I'll sit on the warp engines myself and nurse them.

SPOCK: That position, Mister Scott, would not only be unavailing but also undignified.

SPOCK: Mister Scott, you have accomplished your task.

SCOTT: You might at least say thank you.

SPOCK: For what purpose, Mister Scott? What is it in you humans...

SCOTT: Never mind.

SPOCK: ...That requires an overwhelming display of emotion in a situation such as this? Two men pursue the only reasonable course of action indicated, and yet you feel that something else is necessary.

And so on. At times he's so weirdly literal, and funny-logical that it's tempting to wonder if Mr. Spock has been at McCoy's Saurian brandy. He's in character but acting very differently to normal. There are times when Leonard Nimoy seems to be struggling with playing funny-Spock. In the warp eight exchange his emphatic finger pointing is at odds with Leonard Nimoy's normal tight control on Spock's movement. It gives us a glimpse of how Spock might have been handled differently in an alternate version of Star Trek where the character was played much more as comic relief.

Enterprise crew deaths: Three, Ensign Wyatt, Lieutenant D'Amato, and Crewman Watkins. The most crew to die in a single episode since Obsession.

Running total: 53

By Any Other Name

When talking about Star Trek it's easy to get hung up on big name stories like The Trouble With Tribbles. While these episodes have come to define the series the real joy often comes from discovering (or rediscovering) the stories which don't persistently hang around in top ten lists. By Any Other Name is one of those episodes and it turns out to be a little gem. 

By Any Other Name has a script which constantly wrong foots the viewer about exactly what kind of story they should expect. The episode starts out looking as if it will be I, Mudd with aliens. The teaser, and act one, focus on the Kelvans plot to take over the Enterprise. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and two other Enterprise crew, are kept hostage to ensure the good behaviour of everyone else while the Enterprise is converted for the 300 year journey back to the Kelvan's home in the Andromeda galaxy. This episode being another addition to the list of stories suggesting the universe outside our galaxy is full of hideous monsters. Spock describes the Kelvans in their native form as, “immense beings [with] a hundred limbs which resemble tentacles."

The Kelvan's main weapon is a nifty little belt device which neutralises nerve impulses to the voluntary muscles leaving the target paralysed. All the elements are in place for this to be a generic Star Trek episode. The conversion of the Enterprise for its intergalactic voyage looks as if is there to add an arbitrary deadline to the story; forcing Kirk to save the day before the Enterprise departs. The aliens main advantage is technological, the belt paralyser, and when head alien Rojan mentions the neural field radiates from a central projector the episode looks set to turn into a game of hunt the power source; like Catspaw. It's easy to imagine how the next three acts will play out. A sequence of captures and escapes as Kirk tries to get hold of a paralysis projector, locate the central unit, and then turn the tables on the aliens by paralysing them until they have learned their lesson.

Still, even at this early stage it's clear the story is more interesting than average. There's an unusual amount of continuity. Spock's prison break technique from A Taste Of Armageddon (using the Vulcan mind meld to trick a guard into believing the Enterprise crew had escaped) is mentioned along with the energy barrier around the galaxy from Where No Man Has Gone Before. We also get to see the Kelvans take over the Enterprise, something which happened entirely off screen in I, Mudd. The takeover is a brisk little 60 second sequence of Kelvans appearing in key sections of the ship and paralysing the crew. It nicely demonstrates the Kelvan's technical superiority and ruthless efficiency. Plus, someone has found some money to give the Kelvans a signature effect. A blue twinkling visual when people are paralysed. This effect is completely unnecessary from a storytelling perspective. It's obvious when the the belt paralyser is used. There's a sound effect and everyone freezes (usually in some exaggerated “oh I can't move” pose, I particularly like Deforest Kelly's finger pointing, opened mouthed, position when McCoy is frozen while turning to say something to Spock). Still it's great that someone found the cash for the effect. It really adds visual interest to the scenes where it features, and its use is positively lavish considering Star Trek's normal frugal use of effects. Where you might see phasers fired once or twice in an episode, the Kelvan's belt paralyser is used twice in the teaser, and then another five times in act one.

The first real indication that events are not going to run as expected comes after the first escape attempt when Rojan tells Kirk, “this cannot go unpunished.” It turns out the Kelvans can reduce humans to small three dimensional objects, “the flesh and brain and what you call the personality, distilled down into these compact shapes.” People distilled down can be restored, but if the shape is crushed the person dies. Rojan demonstrates this on Lieutenant Shea and Yeoman Thompson, crushing Yeoman Thompson's distilled essence and killing her.

Yeoman Thompson's death may be the most disturbing seen on Star Trek. All we see on screen is a three dimensional shape being crushed to powder but somehow it's a weirdly graphic moment. What makes this killing so gruesome? It's hard to describe exactly but it's a combination of causes. There's the demonstration of Rojan's ruthlessness in forcing Kirk to watch a crew member being killed, and his killing of Thompson is literally more hands on than if he had shot her with a phaser, or zapped her with a bolt of lightning. There's the demonstration of Kirk's powerlessness, he cannot do anything except stand and watch. There's also an illogical attachment between Yeoman Thompson and the crushed shape. We've seen Thompson reduced, and we've been told the shape represents her very essence, so it feels as if we are watching Rojan's hand squeezing not just her body but somehow her brain and thoughts as well. On a more physical level crushing the object is not easy. Rojan squeezes once, twice, three times. Each time breaking the object into smaller chunks. Thompson's death would not seem nearly so prolonged or brutal if the shape had immediately exploded into a puff of power, or if Rojan just squeezed it once before dropping the remains on the floor. Lastly it's all too easy to start trying to imagine what the ruin of Thompson's body would look like. Rojan says Thompson cannot be restored to life, but presumably her body could be reconverted back into flesh and blood.

Yeoman Thompson's death is one of those moments which grips the imagination. As the story heads into act two it surprises again when the Enterprise warps out of orbit, and what had looked as if it would be a largely planet based story instead transfers completely to the Enterprise. It rapidly becomes clear that talk of the energy barrier around the galaxy wasn't just to set up the plot. We will actually see the ship attempt to do what it could not in Where No Man Has Gone Before, breach the barrier and head out into intergalactic space. At the same time Spock and Scotty have come up with a suicide plan. The barrier is composed of negative energy. On Kirk's order Scotty will flood the matter-anti-matter nacelles with positive energy and the ship will be destroyed. The result is a tense sequence as Kirk agonises over his decision. It's well edited by film editor James D. Ballas, and made more exciting by simple but effective use of the standard Enterprise control panel beeping noise as Scotty waits for Kirk's order, and by reusing part of Sol Kaplan's score for The Doomsday Machine. The whole sequence is capped cleverly by splitting Chekov's line, “we... made it,” around a shot of the Enterprise zooming towards Andromeda.

Obviously in the end Kirk decides not to blow up the ship, and it's a matter of personal taste as to whether you think his decision was correct or not for the character. As Kirk says in Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan, “I don't believe in the no-win scenario.” Sacrificing the crew and ship would feel like Kirk was admitting there are no other possibilities. It solves the short term problem of what to do with this Kelvan scouting party, but for all Kirk knows there could be others. Or the failure of Rojan's group to report in could prompt the Kelvans to send another scouting party which the Federation don't know about, or worse a full scale invasion fleet. Plus at this point Kirk still has a full compliment of crew, he doesn't know Rojan plans to reduce them, so the humans outnumber the Kelvans, and the odds are in his favour. 

The scope of the story narrows in the later part of act three, and act four. With only four Enterprise crew remaining, Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty, the solution to the problem of defeating the Kelvans turns out to be tempting them with the pleasures of the flesh. Scotty gets Tomar drunk, Kirk seduces Kelinda, Spock expertly plays on Rojan's jealousy of Kirk and Kelinda, and McCoy starts injecting Hanar with stimulants while pretending to give vitamins to the alien. Amusingly no one seems to remember there's a fifth Kelvan on the bridge, Drea. While Tomar gets drunk, Kelinda gets snogged, Rojan gets furious, and McCoy gets Hanar hepped up on goofballs, Drea sits on the bridge patiently steering the ship on its 300 year journey towards Andromeda. She must be baffled to receive Rojan's order to reverse course. These scenes allow for some very good comedy, especially Scotty's drinking contest with Tomar, but there's something disappointing about By Any Other Name ending up as another story in which clever humans outwit superior beings. It's also not helped by repeating similar themes from Return To Tomorrow, although By Any Other Name was made first and is the superior episode of the two.

If the solution to beating the Kelvans is disappointing By Any Other Name does deserve praise for ultimately being resolved by diplomacy and an offer of assistance; admittedly after a fist fight in one of the recreation rooms. A lesser story might have ended with Kirk hoisting the Kelvans on their own petard, maybe paralysing them, or reducing them to cubes and leaving the problem for the future to deal with. One genuinely nice touch about the ending is that the much sought after neural paralysers end up being a Macguffin, and irrelevant to the resolution, to the extent that Scotty passes out just after getting hold of one. Which is probably just as well. The Enterprise corridors are littered with the shapes of the reduced crew. Imagine Scotty trying to deliver the projector while drunk. Kicking a shape here, tripping on one there, knocking off a corner, cracking another, and then probably falling over and crushing a whole load of them at once. 

Enterprise crew deaths: Just one, poor Yeoman Thompson. 
Running total: 44

Misc: More messing around with the closing credits. This time we have a still not from an episode, or a makeup test but a blooper. As William Blackburn peels the Return To Tomorrow android makeup from his head someone, possibly makeup artist Fred Phillips, says, "well, son, you wanted show business. Goddammit, you got it!" and then walks into shot and helps Blackburn pull off some of the latex."

The Changeling

Uhura dies! The one thing everyone notices about The Changeling is the moment when Nomad wipes her brain. “The knowledge banks of this unit have been wiped clean,” as Nomad puts it. It's all very well for Spock and McCoy to talk hopefully about re-education but everything which made Uhura has gone. She's as dead as Scotty, but it's the death of her personality rather than physical death. It's the one misstep in an otherwise almost textbook example of a Star Trek script. The implication is that with a bit of futuristic medicine and a few reading lessons Uhura will be back to her normal self. Obviously McCoy and Nurse Chapel can show Uhura photographs of her parents, and Kirk, and Spock, and so on, but it's unclear how they plan to restore the emotional content of her memories. It's one thing for Uhura to recognise Captain Kirk but how to replicate the complicated jumble of memories and emotional states which accompanies the process of recognition? Simply hoping the audience will chalk up the complete restoration of Uhura's personality to future medicine seems to be pushing the boundaries of believability too far.

However, the script itself doesn't seem clear about what has happened to Uhura. When Spock says, “there has been no brain damage but only knowledge erased, she could be re-educated,” it's possible he literally means that only Uhura's learned information is gone. She doesn't know how to read, she doesn't know how to talk, for want of a better phrase she doesn't know how to think. Maybe Uhura has lost the ability to access the information inside her own head. There's an odd moment during the re-education scene where Uhura becomes frustrated at her inability to read English and talks in Swahili. It's easy to understand that McCoy and Chapel's immediate priority would be to teach Uhura to speak. If Swahili is Uhura's first language and if they wanted to replicate Uhura's original learning process then they might teach her that, followed by English. But then who taught her to default back to Swahili at times of frustration? It's certainly more pleasant to believe that Uhura is just learning how to remember to be herself, but then Chapel gets an odd line about Uhura seeming, “to have an aptitude for mathematics.” As if the re-education process is uncovering attributes of Uhura's new personality. Ultimately it remains unclear if the person who goes into a parallel universe in Mirror, Mirror is the same one trapped on the Guardian's planet while Kirk and Spock attempt to restore history in The City On The Edge Of Forever.

The re-education scene itself is quite sweet. It gives Nichelle Nichols something to do other than opening hailing frequencies, and is also a nice moment for Majel Barrett. Nurse Chapel is normally only seen when the script needs someone to worry about Spock so seeing her being competent at her job, and pleased for Uhura as she makes progress, does her character no end of good. This scene also makes The Changeling the first Star Trek episode to pass the Bechdel Test in that it's a scene featuring two women, who have a conversation about something other than a man.

Outside of the question of what happens to Uhura this is, as already said, a textbook Star Trek script. That's not to say it's the greatest script ever but it hits all the right dramatic beats, ramps up the tension, and gives most characters something to do. It's a meat and potatoes story, and on the basis of this script it's understandable why writer John Meredyth Lucas was asked to become producer when Gene L. Coon left after Bread And Circuses. Just looking at the act breaks shows how the story consistently develops, expanding its scope and developing the threat. The teaser ends with the Enterprise being pounded by energy bolts in a surprise attack. Act one with Nomad appearing on the transporter pad. Act two with the death of Scotty. And act three with the realisation that Nomad, with its confused mission to sterilise organic life, knows the location of Earth.

Act one is the superior act. As Kirk and the bridge crew try to locate and destroy their mysterious attacker, and then talk when fighting proves ineffective. Director Marc Daniels, and film editor Fabien Tordjmann, wring every drop of tension they can out of Lucas' script. There's a very good moment when the bridge crew all act like a co-ordinated unit.

KIRK: Helmsmen, I said evasive manoeuvres.

SULU: We're losing power, sir.

KIRK: Scotty?

SCOTT: I'm having to divert the warp engine power into the shields, sir, if you want the protection.

KIRK: Mister Spock, speed of those bolts.

SPOCK: Approximately warp fifteen, Captain.

KIRK: Then we can't out run them. Good, Scotty. You're doing the right thing.

The tension eases once Nomad comes aboard. The probe itself looks faintly comical although Marc Daniels does his best to make it a threat. There are some very nice hand-held camera tracking shots of Nomad moving through the ship with the bulk, such as it is, of Nomad's body filling the frame. The scene of Uhura having her mind wiped, and Scotty being killed, isn't just there to end act two on an exciting note. It demonstrates the danger Nomad poses to the crew even when it's being friendly. And it also underscores the danger of Spock's mind probe in act three as he tries to learn about Nomad's origin. Nomad's refusal to believe its creator was an imperfect biological unit carries echoes of Isaac Asimov's short story Reason in which a robot invents its own religion (1967 was a significant year for this Asimov short story, in January BBC2 adapted it as The Prophet for the series Out Of The Unknown with some fantastic music by the Radiophonic Workshop).

It's not difficult to dislike The Changeling. It's a linear story with no significant guest stars, the whole sequence with Uhura isn't thought through properly, and Kirk confuses a superior computer to death at the end. Despite this the science gone wrong threat Nomad represents is a very Star Trek concept, and the mismatch between Nomad's size and power can be seen as restating The Devil In The Dark's message of don't judge by appearances.

Enterprise crew deaths: 4 unnamed security guards. Nomad carries out its sterilisation function with relish and the result is the highest single episode body count since Where No Man Has Gone Before.

Running total: 30

Errand Of Mercy

Here come the Klingons, finally. They've become such an integral part of the later films and television series that it's a surprise to realise they arrived after the Romulans, 26 weeks into the first season. Like the Romulans in Balance Of Terror, the Klingons have a duel purpose. They add depth and danger to the Star Trek universe. Now we know the Federation shares borders with two hostile races. Also, in the same way the Romulans acted as a mirror for Spock, the Klingons define Kirk by being everything he isn't: cruel, brutal, and vicious. “Professional villains,” as David Gerrold describes them in The World of Star Trek, “Klingons do all the things that humans pretend they don't - only Klingons are proud of it.”

Kirk, and Kor the Klingon commander, most clearly demonstrate their mirror image relationship in their attitudes to Organia. The Klingons don't offer the Organians a choice, they just arrive and take over. However Kirk isn't offering a choice either. His orders are to deny Organia to the Klingons. “ We can be of immense help to you.” Kirk tells the Organian Council of Elders. “In addition to military aid, we can send you specialists, technicians. We can show you how to feed a thousand people where one was fed before. We can help you build schools, educate the young in the latest technological and scientific skills. Your public facilities are almost non-existent. We can help you remake your world, end disease, hunger, hardship. All we ask in return is that you let us help you. Now.” It's a sincere but conscience saving offer from the Federation. The planet Organia is in a strategic location. Regardless of what the inhabitants want the planet is going to be the subject, and location, of a fight between the Klingons and Federation. Kirk's offer of assistance is little more than, “come on in, the war's lovely,” and the one response Kirk, and the Federation can't deal with is the Organians', “not today thank you.”

It's only Organian intervention which stops the war. Imagine an episode where the Organians don't turn out to be aliens with god-like powers. Just committed pacifists with blue goats whose society has never risen above the medieval level. The Klingons would fight on Organia for the sheer joy of fighting. The Federation would fight and agonise about it afterwards. As Kirk puts it, “another Armenia, Belgium... the weak innocents who always seem to be located on the natural invasion routes.” They would convince themselves that war on Organia was unwanted but inevitable. Or, as Spock says, “curious how often you humans manage to obtain that which you do not want.”

On a more personal level Kor also acts as Satan to Kirk's, well let's not take this metaphor too far. He's not just interested in defeating the Federation, and Kirk, he wants to bring them down to his level in the process. He tempts Kirk. Listing the qualities they share and inviting Kirk to agree, and admit the two have more in common than either of them does with the Organians.

KOR: ...You of the Federation, you are much like us.

KIRK: We're nothing like you. We're a democratic body.

KOR: Come now. I'm not referring to minor ideological differences. I mean that we are similar as a species. Here we are on a planet of sheep. Two tigers, predators, hunters, killers, and it is precisely that which makes us great. And there is a universe to be taken.

Kor is played with considerable relish by John Colicos (appropriately for Biblical metaphors, Kirk's Satan goes on to play the Judas of humanity in Battlestar Galactica); all eyebrows and smirking. It's a textbook example of how to play a proper hissable villain. There's none of the tortured nobility Mark Lenard bought to the Romulan commander role in Balance Of Terror, but here that wouldn't be appropriate. Colicos makes Kor fun, a Klingon you love to hate, and like all good villains he can go from ordering the apparent deaths of 200 Organians to offering Kirk a drink while waiting for the inevitable clash between the Klingon and Federation fleets. At the end of the episode Kor has a lovely moment when he tries to persuade the Federation to join forces with the Klingons against the Organians. “Captain, it's a trick. We can handle them. I have an army.” He says, forgetting that seconds ago he was angrily denying Ayelborne's prophecy of Klingons and the Federation becoming friends and working together.

As Ayelborne John Abbott has a more difficult role. He has to be convincing, and consistent, as both a simple peasant and also another alien with god-like powers. He manages it very well. His line, “as I stand here, I also stand upon the home planet of the Klingon Empire, and the home planet of your Federation,” may be one of the most effective in the episode. It's delivered with a quiet conviction and leaves no room for doubt. Ayelborne is not lying, or bluffing, he really does have the power to do everything he claims, and yet he also clearly regrets interfering in the affairs of other races. If Ayelborne's, “as I stand here...” is one of the most effective lines in the episode then his, “we are terribly sorry to be forced to interfere, gentlemen,” as he walks into the scene, is one of the sweetest. Ayleborne may have god-like powers but he's unfailingly polite. Claymare, Ayleborne's associate, also makes a good impression. He's the grumpy old man of the Organians who actively scolds Kirk and Kor. “We find interference in other people's affairs most disgusting,” he says, and, “we do not wish to seem inhospitable, but gentlemen, you must leave.” It would have been easy for all the Organian actors to follow the lead of John Abbot when deciding how to play their characters, and match Abbot's tendency to underplay strong emotion. It's nice that they didn't because it makes the Organians more interesting to watch.

Depending on how you count them, this is at least the fourth set of god-like beings the crew of the Enterprise have encountered: the Metrons, Arena; Trelane and his parents, The Squire Of Gothos; Gary Mitchell and Doctor Elizabeth Dehner in Where No Man Has Gone Before; Charlie and the Thasians in Charlie X. Like the Thasians, the Organians reveal themselves largely to stop the plot before it gets out of control. Star Trek cannot be about war with the Klingons. That's not the series NBC bought. And it's probably not a series Desilu could afford to make. Anyway, Star Trek doesn't tell on-going stories, although later spin-off series will.

Writer Gene L. Coon does use the god-like alien idea to put two interesting spins on the plot. Firstly it allows him to restate one of his favourite messages about not judging by appearances. Previously used in Arena, where the Gorn are not the terrible aggressors they at first appear to be, and The Devil In The Dark. More importantly the Organians reformat the Klingons and make it possible for them to be returning foes.

Look at the Romulans. Currently they are stuck on one side of the neutral zone with the Federation on the other. To reappear one side or the other must breach the neutral zone. Any script with the Romulans must, or at least should, waste time explaining why each new trespass does not result in war. Worse, if one side or the other allows multiple breaches of the zone then they start to look weak. Why tell us that breaching the zone is considered an act of war, if that's not what's shown on screen.

Without the Organians the Klingons would be the same. The Klingons hate the Federation (and the Federation probably hates the Klingons). The Klingons are in competition with the Federation for resources. Why doesn't every encounter with the Klingons result in war? Well there's this alien race called the Organians who won't allow the Federation and Klingons to fight. Essentially what Gene Coon does is introduce the Klingons, clearly define them as top baddies, and then defang them without weakening them as characters. This is all done in full view of the audience it's really a very clever piece of writing.

Organia itself is a puzzle box planet. A mystery for the viewers to ponder while Kirk and Spock are distracted by more pressing issues. The inhabitants are clearly flagged up as unusual from the beginning. They show no interest in Kirk and Spock as they beam down from the Enterprise. Council member Trefayne is able to sense Klingon spaceships in orbit. Ayleborne simply walks in to the Klingon headquarters to free Kirk and Spock from their cell. If The Devil In The Dark was about Gene Coon trying to hide his plot twist in plain sight, it's difficult not to wonder if the opposite is true here. Is it possible Gene Coon was also aware the god-like alien plot had worn a little thin? The oddness of the Organians is laid on very thick. As if Gene Coon wanted to write a script where the reveal was the only possible solution. If Kirk wasn't so worried about the Klingons he'd have noticed something odd about Organia straight away. The Organian Council Chamber has doors which open and close by themselves. Not something anyone would expect to find in a, “primitive society making progress toward mechanisation.” Kirk's obviously got so used to the ones on the Enterprise that he doesn't register their presence here. 

Enterprise crew deaths: None. To quote Ayelborne, "No one has been killed, Captain."

Running total: 26

Court Martial

Isaac Asimov had a book published in 1968 called Asimov's Mysteries. A collection of science fiction stories which worked according to the rules of the mystery genre. Asimov wrote in his introduction to the book,

“I was told that 'by its very nature' science fiction would not play fair with the reader. In a science fiction story, the detective could say, 'But as you know, Watson, ever since 2175, when all Spaniards learned to speak French, Spanish has been a dead language. How came Juan Lopez, then, to speak those significant words in Spanish'. Or else, he could have his detective whip out an odd device and say, 'as you know, Watson, my pocket-frannistan is perfectly capable of detecting the hidden jewel in a trice.'
You don't spring new devices on the reader and solve the mystery with them. You don't take

advantage of future history to introduce ad hoc phenomena. In fact, you carefully explain all facets of the future background well in advance so the reader may have a decent chance to see the solution. The fictional detective can make use only of facts known to the reader in the present or of 'facts' of the fictional future, which will be carefully explained beforehand.”

Asimov became firm friends with Roddenberry, and a supporter of Star Trek. Would he have approved of Court Martial? The story certainly fits the criteria Asimov gives in the above quote.

Inside the trial format is a straightforward mystery. Is Kirk lying, or is the infallible computer wrong? Kirk says he followed procedure during an ion storm and went to red alert before jettisoning a research pod which was endangering the ship. Kirk admits he killed the pod's occupant Ben Finney, but he says Finney was too slow in leaving the pod after Kirk went to red alert. The computer says Kirk jettisoned the pod before going to red alert, and is therefore either lying or incompetent. The script doesn't cheat by relying on made-up devices like Asimov's fantastically named pocket-frannistan. Instead Spock makes a logical deduction from the available evidence. He programmed the computer, and now he can beat it at chess whereas previously the best he could hope for was a draw. Therefore someone has tampered with the computer to change the records it holds.

The closest the episode gets to gimmickry is the ending where the trial moves to the Enterprise bridge after the ship has been evacuated. The Enterprise's internal microphones are massively amplified allowing the people involved in the trial to hear the heartbeats of everyone on board. One by one, McCoy uses a noise cancelling microphone on the trial personnel to remove their heartbeats until only one can still be heard; Finney's. The man Kirk supposedly killed is still alive. He faked his own death, and the evidence against Kirk, and is still hiding on the Enterprise. Even here the story plays fair. Finney's presence on the Enterprise could have been presented by showing an inch by inch bow to stern search of the Enterprise, or by using the ship's sensors. The whole sequence with the microphone is simply a more visually, and audibly, interesting solution.

The major cast all put in good performances. In one short scene William Shatner is brilliant when Kirk is asked to explain in his own words what happened. Shatner plays the scene quietly with very little movement, or expression, and his voice stays clipped and level. Kirk starts out subdued and you can visibly see his confidence grow as he begins to hope he might turn this situation round. It's a performance helped by the directors decision to shoot the scene as a slow zoom into a close-up of Shatner's face, and the editor's decision to play the scene with a minimum of cutting to reaction shots. For a second it's possible to believe Kirk has won the court round by sheer force of personality before the inevitable crushing blow as Areel Shaw shows Finney's faked visual extract from the Enterprise logs.

Unfortunately the story comes with a massive side order of melodrama. Heightened emotions and situations are the order of the day. The tone is set when Finney's daughter bursts into Commodore Stone's office and hysterically accuses Kirk of killing her father. Then we get Cogley the computer hating lawyer. Kirk's old flame Areel Shaw being forced to prosecute him (“Because, Jim Kirk, my dear old love, I am the prosecution, and I have to do my very best to have you slapped down hard. Broken out of the service, in disgrace.”). Lots of courtroom action with people shouting “objection” and “sustained”. And finally poor old Ben Finney.

In the review of The Corbomite Maneuver I talked about television's need to compress maximum information into the minimum time. There we had Navigator Bailey the world's worst bridge officer. Here we have rambling Ben Finney. Cacking, paranoid, bug-eyed, unshaven Ben Finney who, talks about himself in the third person; the ultimate sign of TV madness. “Except for Finney, and his one mistake a long time ago, but they don't forget.” Finney's one mistake was to leave a circuit open to the atomic pile on the USS Republic. Ensign Kirk found and logged the mistake which could have destroyed the ship, and Finney went to the bottom of the promotion pile where he nursed a grudge against Kirk which turned into hate.

It's not that Finney's revenge plan against Kirk lacks sense, it's that Finney as he appears on screen doesn't seem to be the person to carry it out. If this was a spur of the moment idea he comes across as someone who no longer possesses the skills for the fast but detailed work we must assume is required to reprogramme a computer before records are accessed, and leave no obvious traces. Alternatively, if this is a plan which has been maturing for some time it seems unlikely no one has noticed just how mad Finney has become while he waits for the exact combination of circumstances necessary for his plan. It's ironic that in the episode where we first see the Enterprise personnel officer we also see Finney, her greatest failure. 

Bubbling away in the background of Court Martial are a couple of odd moments regarding the planet Vulcan. During the courtroom scenes Spock is referred to, and describes himself, as Vulcanian. Nothing odd about that, although it sounds a little clumsy. Except, in the opening moments of act one Kirk goes to the M11 Starbase club where he greets one of his ex-Academy classmates with the line, “I haven't seen you since the Vulcanian expedition.” Expedition in this case sounds like it is being used in the military sense of the word, which is strange, but also reminded me of this exchange from The Conscience Of The King.

SPOCK: My father's race was spared the dubious benefits of alcohol.

MCCOY: Now I know why they were conquered.

The Conscience Of The King was filmed 12^th, Court Martial 14^th, and in the middle was The Galileo Seven where the stranded crew display hostility to Spock which is out of keeping with their status as Starfleet Officers, if not completely inappropriate. Could these be remnants of unused backstory for Spock or the planet Vulcan? Was someone on the production team toying with the idea, or under the impression, that Vulcan had been at war with, and conquered by, Earth? These are still early days for the series. New ideas are always being tried out, and sometimes rejected. Having set up a model for time travel in The Naked Time a different one was used in Tomorrow Is Yesterday. Or look at the way Sulu is shuffled from  astrosciences to helmsman. Even concepts like the Federation, or photon torpedoes, which today are core parts of Star Trek, didn't appear until Arena. 

Kirk also gets a couple of moments which shine an odd light on his backstory. None of the old classmates Kirk meets in the M11 Starbase club seem happy to see him again. One, Timothy, all but accuses Kirk of murdering Finney, and appears to speak for the others when he says, “Ben was a friend of ours.” This scene has a very real story purpose to get the episode off to a good dramatic start, and to contrast Kirk's casual attitude with the very real danger to his career. However it seems odd in the light of Kirk's service record. Think of all the things we've seen him do. It's easy to understand why Commodore Stone starts the investigation into Kirk's actions. He has no choice. It's harder to understand the response of the other Captains but it ties in with information from earlier episodes. In Where No Man Has Gone Before, Mitchell talks about Kirk at the Academy, “A stack of books with legs. The first thing I ever heard from upperclassmen was, Watch out for Lieutenant Kirk. In his class, you either think or sink.” Then in Shore Leave Kirk describes himself as, “absolutely grim.” Their dislike here makes it easy to imagine Kirk as a bookish little prig who was hated by his fellow students. The incident on the USS Republic probably confirmed their bad opinion of Kirk as a nasty little cheeser who wouldn't even give his friend a break.

Crew deaths: None, although if Kirk really is that disliked in Starfleet, it's funny to imagine all the other dead crewmen have faked their own deaths and are also hiding on the Enterprise hoping to get Kirk charged with murder.
Running total: 25

The Squire Of Gothos

Travelling through a void, or star desert, 900 light years from Earth, the Enterprise encounters unexpected danger. Weirdly The Squire Of Gothos has the setup of a slasher movie; a group of people, on a journey, a long way from home, too far to call for help, and nowhere to run. The key difference being the lack of psychopaths. Instead the Enterprise crew meets Trelane. Squire, or so he says, of the planet Gothos.

It's next to impossible to review The Squire Of Gothos without first talking about the ending where it's revealed Trelane is a child; an alien child with god-like powers. Like the reveal of the fake Balok in The Corbomite Maneuver it changes the audience's understanding of the story. All through the episode there has been a mismatch between what Trelane can do, and the way he behaves; then Trelane's parents show up, and that mismatch is resolved. Suddenly the audience understands how a being who can create planets can also throw temper tantrums. Paul Schneider's script is a clever one, and manages the difficult trick of setting up the surprise ending in advance. Too much set-up and Trelane wouldn't have just acted in a childish way, it would have been obvious he was a child. Likewise, not enough set-up and the ending would have worked but it would have felt bolted on rather than the moment when everything snaps into focus.

The ending is also the point which most clearly separates The Squire Of Gothos from Charlie X. Both stories feature people with powers that allow them to do anything they want, and have protagonists who act childishly and want to fit in; Charlie wants to fit in socially, Trelane wants to be as bloodthirsty as he imagines humans are. Both stories have scripts which define the conflict as a one-on-one struggle with Captain Kirk, backing Kirk into a corner until he has no choice but to confront the protagonist. And, both stories end with the protagonist's parents (for want of a better word in the case of Charlie) talking them home. There are differences. Charlie X takes place on the Enterprise, we're expected to sympathise with Charlie's plight, and the end is pitched as tragedy. The Squire Of Gothos is mainly planet based, Trelane is presented as an arrogant irritant, and the tone at the end is comedic. But both scripts do often hit the same themes.

Until the ending. When the Thasians show up in Charlie X it's because Charlie has become too powerful for the crew of the Enterprise. They can't kill Charlie, or use Kirk's hastily thought out plan to drug Charlie and take him to Colony Five. What would they do there? Keep Charlie tranquillised forever, or lobotomise him? The only dramatically satisfying resolution which allows the Enterprise crew to keep their heroic status is for someone to come along and take the problem off their hands. The Thasians become an off switch for the plot. If Charlie X was a two part story, or if the Thasian's turned up at the end of the teaser the result would have been the same. The conflict between Charlie and Kirk is unresolved and Kirk becomes a spectator, he watches someone else sort out the problem for him.

In The Squire Of Gothos Kirk unambiguously wins. Kirk's victory comes shortly before Trelane's parents turn up when he refuses to acknowledge he's been beaten, and he snaps Trelane's sword. Ironically Trelane's right, Kirk cheats. He wins by not admitting he's lost. At that point you could spin the story off in any direction; Trelane could disappear in a huff; he could kill Kirk and the Enterprise crew (instinctively I feel this ending could have been difficult for the series); he could vow to come back in 100 years and torment any passing Enterprise Captain he meets. It doesn't matter what he does because Trelane is always reacting to being beaten. When his parents turn up it caps the episode, rather than finishing it.

Another difference between Charlie X and The Squire Of Gothos is the presentation of the antagonist. We're shown Trelane's power. He snatches Kirk and Sulu from the Enterprise, and then casually appears on the bridge himself during Spock's abortive first escape attempt; the first time we see an external threat invade the sanctity of the Enterprise bridge. But it's never used, as you might expect, to ransom the crew against the Captain's good behaviour. In Charlie X, Charlie constantly threatens the crew. He tells Kirk he will make people, “go away.” It's used as a sign of Charlie's insecurity. He's puffing himself up, to remind himself he is powerful. Similarly, when Gary Mitchell was upgraded by the radiation barrier at the edge of the galaxy, in Where No Man Has Gone Before, he talked of crushing people like insects, of using worlds, and finally demanded Kirk pray to him. Trelane makes no such threats. Even in the courtroom when Kirk drives Trelane into a fury the danger is to the captain, not the crew. As it also is when Trelane casually drops the Captain into the real atmosphere of Gothos. The first time the crew is placed in danger is the end of the hunt when Trelane decides he's having so much fun he says, “I must fetch all the others back to play”. This fits with Trelane's child nature. Presumably from his perspective attempting to control Kirk's behaviour by threatening the Enterprise would be like telling an uncooperative ant you will destroy the nest. A side effect is The Squire Of Gothos has a slightly lower key feel than other episodes. The audience is left to draw their own conclusions about Trelane's threat rather than having melodramatic reminders about his ability to kill everyone without lifting a finger.

With such a rounded part to work with it's no surprise William Campbell runs with the character of Trelane and plays him with malicious glee. It's one of those occasions where an actor appears to be having a whale of a time, and their enjoyment enhances the performance. It's an obvious gag but the ending where Trelane drops the English aristocrat accent and turns into whinning, wheedling child is very nicely done.

It feels almost compulsory to discuses whether Trelane could be Q, or another member of the Q continuum. Probably not. Star Trek has no shortage of god-like beings with amazing powers, we've already seen at least three different types in the 17 weeks the series has been on air; Gary Mitchell and Doctor Elizabeth Dehner in Where No Man Has Gone Before, Charlie and the Thasians in Charlie X, and now Trelane. That's before you get onto the second division races like the Talosians, The Menagerie, and the what-ever-they-ares from Shore Leave, both of whom are capable of some pretty remarkable feats. 

Is this story perfect? No. For the 18^th episode made it's slightly alarming how many elements it seems to draw from earlier stories. And, on a more minor note, the comedy ker-donk noises when Trelains mirror is smashed seem out of place. It's also, perhaps, the first time a script doesn't explore any of the characters. Instead they are dropped into a surreal situation and left to react along established lines. That said when Spock talks to Trelane he gets the magnificent line, “I object to you. I object to intellect without discipline. I object to power without constructive purpose.” But like Shore Leave, this is a story which gets by on charm. It's good fun.

Crew deaths: None. Trelane may talk about killing but it's not something he does.

Running total: 23

The Galileo Seven

It's easy to forget the the production order of Star Trek differs from the broadcast order; Charlie X, for example, was the seventh episode made but shown second. It gives the production team flexibility. A run of budget saving cheap episodes can be slotted in around more expensive stories, technically demanding stories can be pushed back, and simpler stories brought forwards. Of course this is not unique to Star Trek. The Prisoner fans have spent decades debating the correct order to watch the programme; production order, broadcast order, or some as yet undiscovered third order where everything makes sense. Shifting the episode order can create anomalies. Balance Of Terror (filmed 8^th) and Shore Leave (filmed 17^th) are shown back-to-back. Minor character Angela Martine is in both episodes so the week after her fiancé dies in a Romulan attack, on their wedding day, she is getting friendly with Lieutenant Rodriguez.

The Menagerie was made as the 15^th and 16^th episodes, out of 29, and it was shown as episodes 11 and 12. It also seems to be the first story totally written and filmed since Star Trek began broadcasting on NBC; so it's also the first story to be influenced by public reaction. This makes it a good midpoint for the series. Star Trek before The Menagerie is an unknown quantity, nobody quite knows what stories this series will do best, or how the characters work. Star Trek after The Menagerie is the series with “the guy with the ears”. It's the point where Spock completes the transition from character to hero. Spock has always been the one who uses logic to find, and voice, the hard but correct options. In Where No Man Has Gone Before, he's the first person to recommend killing Gary Mitchell. In Balance Of Terror he surprises everyone in the briefing room by agreeing with Stiles and recommending the Romulan ship be destroyed. However The Menagerie is the first time he's given a proper heroic storyline when he kidnaps Captain Pike. At first the audience is left to guess at Spock's motives, even his friends doubt him, but Spock is correct. Talos IV is the best place for Pike, and the means of getting him there are justified by the ends. It's essentially the same storyline given to Kirk in The Conscience Of The King; presented with a problem, and unwilling to involve his friends, Kirk is challenged, but proved correct in the end.

All this is to try and explain why exactly The Galileo Seven feels so out of step with the series at this point. In The Galileo Seven Spock is wrong. He makes poor decisions, is unable to take the reactions of his human colleagues into account, misunderstands the responses of the inhabitants of Taurus II, and gives an order which directly kills one of the men under his command; if not ordered to remain on guard away from the shuttle Gaetano would not have died. Finally Spock is given a scene where he openly questions his own decision making.

SPOCK: Strange. Step by step, I have made the correct and logical decisions. And yet two men have died.

MCCOY: And you've brought our furry friends down on us.

SPOCK: I do seem to have miscalculated regarding them, and inculcated resentment on your parts. The sum of the parts cannot be greater than the whole.

MCCOY A little less analysis and more action. That's what we need, Mister Spock.

Spock only saves the day when he stops relying completely on logic and, in the words of Captain Kirk, reasons it is time for an emotional outburst. Spock's decision making process is not just questioned, as Kirk's is in The Conscience Of The King, it's actually tested and found wanting. If this was a war film Spock would be the cocky Lieutenant who realises he has a lot to learn and is not yet ready for command. 

The Galileo Seven was made 13^th, a couple of episodes before The Menagerie, and held back until episode 16. One of the reasons it feels out of place is because Balance Of Terror another significant Spock focused episode aired in the meantime. Balance Of Terror, also made pre-Menagerie, fits much better because Spock is given the heroic 'man who is wronged 'storyline; character A dislikes character B because someone like B was responsible for a terrible event in A's past, when A's life is saved by B, A realises B is okay and learns it is wrong to judge people as a group. Moving Balance Of Terror means the run of episodes goes like this; The Menagerie, Spock as hero; The Conscience Of The King, Spock light story; Balance Of Terror, Spock as hero (he wins over the bigoted Lieutenant Stiles and saves the day by firing the vital phaser shot); Shore Leave, Spock light story; The Galileo Seven, Spock makes bad decisions and gets one man killed. You can see why the story jars. 

The other element of The Galileo Seven which feels off is the attitude of the crashed shuttle crew to Spock. Granted they're in a stressful situation. And, granted even before discovering the planet is inhabited by 12 foot "huge, furry creatures" which want them all dead, the seven crew know three people may have to be left behind to allow the shuttle to achieve orbit. If they're going to be abandoned along with non-essential equipment to make the shuttle light enough to take off they want some reassurance their life is more valued than the Galileo's candy floss machine, and Spock is never going to be the commander to give that assurance, but they start whining and sniping very quickly. McCoy in particular seems to be put out simply because Spock treads on one of his jokes:

MCCOY: Partial pressure of oxygen, seventy millimetres of mercury. Nitrogen one forty. Breathable, if you're not running in competition.
SPOCK: Just the facts, Doctor.
MCCOY: Traces of argon, neon, krypton, all in acceptable quantities. However, I wouldn't recommend this place as a summer resort. 

There's something very passive aggressive about that summer resort comment. McCoy gets in a dig because Spock only wants facts. Now McCoy might simply be trying to raise people's spirits with a little humour if it wasn't for the next scene being one where McCoy follows Spock outside and needles him about his approach to command being based on logic. Then the very next scene, after Spock says his decision on who stays behind will be based on logic, not drawing lots as Lieutenant Boma suggests, contains this exchange: 

SPOCK: ... Now gentlemen, I suggest we move outside to make a further examination of the hull in the event we've overlooked any minor damage.
BOMA: If any minor damage was overlooked, it was when they put his head together.

MCCOY: Not his head, Mister Boma, his heart. His heart.

In the space of three scenes McCoy moves from taking digs at Spock to openly criticising him in front of junior crew-members. And, unsurprisingly, the crew become increasingly hostile and aggressive, with Lieutenant Boma in particular being almost irrationally determined to make shows of compassion in front of Spock as he insists on burials for both dead crewmen. It all comes to a head after one of the creatures is driven off after attacking the shuttle.

SPOCK: The moment they discover they're not seriously hurt, they'll be back. Meanwhile, please check the aft compartment. See if there's anything you can unload to lighten the ship.

BOMA: Mister Gaetano's body's back there.

SPOCK: It will of course have to be left behind.

BOMA: Not without a burial.

SPOCK: I wouldn't recommend it. The creatures won't be far away.

BOMA: Not without a burial, Mister Spock.

SPOCK: It would expose members of this crew to unnecessary peril.

BOMA: I'll take that chance. You see, Mister Spock, I would insist upon a decent burial even if your body was back there.

MCCOY: Mister Boma.

BOMA: I'm sick and tired of this machine!

SCOTT: That's enough!

It's rather hypocritical of McCoy to utter that shocked, “Mister Boma” as if he hasn't spent all their time on the planet second guessing Spock's decisions, and criticising him. If he can't set a good example he shouldn't be surprised when other people think insubordination is okay. It's worth noting it's Scotty who tells Boma “that's enough”. Mr. Scott is one of the stars of this episode. He gets on with his work with quiet competence. He doesn't join in the communal whinging. And he comes up with the solution to their fuel problem. In short, he plays the sensible second in command role normally taken by Spock. Back on the Enterprise, Uhura is also given a good character moment when she suggests a way to narrow the search because Taurus Two is the only planet in Murasaki 312 capable of supporting life. It would have been easy to give this line to Kirk, or make him look smarter by seeing the solution before everyone else. It's also good writing because it almost unnoticeably solves the problem of how the Enterprise can get to the right planet in an area described as comprising at least four complete solar systems.

Robert Gist, the director, gives us claustrophobic planet scenes as well as the human tension on the shuttlecraft. He mostly keeps the camera low, even when people are climbing on rocks, and this, plus lots of dry ice, and lots of twisting rock canyons makes Taurus Two feel like an easy place to get lost. One weaknesses of Star Trek's sound stage planets is their attempt to create the illusion of space in a confined area. The rocks of Taurus Two don't look any more realistic than usual -one of the alien spears grazes a rock and causes a shower of polystyrene- but not seeing a horizon really helps, and the constant weird scraping sound, wood rubbing on leather according to Spock as the natives prepare their weapons, gives a more threatening feel than the usual ambient planet noise. The director, or editor, also makes the wise decision not to give us a close-up look at the inhabitants of Taurus Two. Although impressively bulky, they look a bit silly and the trick of having them holding regular sized spears and shields, but replacing them with giant versions in shots with the shuttle crew never really convinces; it also leads to a whopping great continuity error when a regular sized shield is dropped near Spock, Boma and Gaetano which changes to a giant version in the next shot. 

The Galileo Seven is a unique episode. The unusual personal conflict and claustrophobia makes it feels doom laden. Once the Galileo has taken off the shuttle scenes have a sombre feel; even though the audience knows the Enterprise is still in the area the crew don't. Nimoy plays Spock musing on his first command very well, you can see the disappointment behind the emotionless mask. When he is questioned on jettisoning the fuel he sits completely still, his hands locked and only his thumbs twist and twitch at the bottom of the frame to betray his interior turmoil. This is a self-doubting Spock we have never seen before, and one we wouldn't have seen at all if this episode had been made any later.

Crew deaths: Three. Lieutenants Latimer and Gaetano, on the shuttle. And Ensign O'Neill an Enterprise search party member.

Running total: 23.

Misc:

The tag scene at the end of the episode is bizarre. It's the standard crew laughs at something Spock says scene but the reaction is bizarrely over the top. Uhura, Yeoman Mears, and a blond haired crew-woman are so tickled by Spock's line they rock backwards and forwards against the communication console. Kirk laughs so hard he barely makes it back to his chair without falling over. McCoy stands next to the Captains chair and almost doubles over at one point. Sulu keeps looking back from the helm and guffawing so much you worry he's going to steer the Enterprise into a star. And Scotty has to walk across the set and lean against a wall to support himself in his hilarity, before wiping the tears from his eyes. Maybe this was the last shot of a long day, or the twenty third attempt at the same scene. The whole thing is so OTT it's difficult not to wonder if the cast is being sarcastic.