STAR TREK: GENERATIONS
Under-Appreciated Classic
A Film Review by Sardonica
GENERATIONS is among my favorite of all Trek, and is my second favorite film after THE WRATH OF KHAN.
It took me a long time to appreciate this film. I hated it for years, despised it in the theater. But eventually, after many viewings, I was able to see where the writers were coming from, and the daring, unconventional direction and methods that were behind the story. And while I can understand why so many people didn't like it (my god, they killed Kirk!), I also think that the film deserves MUCH, MUCH more credit and attention that it has received. It truly is an understated masterpiece.
Unlike the vast majority of Trek, "Generations" is a tragedy in the true Shakespearean sense. It is a look at a part of the human condition that other Trek stories have barely even glimpsed, the idea that "Bad Things Can and Do Happen to Good People."
In other Trek, we are treated to "big" concepts, larger than life villains, heroic ideals, and intricate and powerful plotlines--and there's nothing wrong with that. But Generations dares to take a totally different and unique approach to the characters and story. It is a tragic telling of how terrible things can and do exist in the universe, and for no good reason--at least none that any of us can understand. It addresses the penultimate human question of, "If there is a God, why does he allow earthquakes and famine?", and it deals with the simple fact that the universe is not going to give us any easy answers to that question.
Now, let's take a look at the major events of the film, and I'll detail exactly what I mean when I say that it's about "Bad Things that can and do happen to Good People."
The film opens with Kirk being lost in space and presumed dead in the most unlikely of circumstances. Kirk is lost, simply because the Enterprise is being commanded by an incompetent captain. Surely, it doesn't get more ironic than that? I personally couldn't imagine a more tragic death for Kirk than to fall victim to age, red tape, and bureaucracy--evils far greater than a dozen Khan Noonian Singhs.
And this scene is not without other tragedy--Scotty is able to save less than half of the El Aurians (who have already been dealt the dark hand of tragedy, losing their homeworld to the Borg, and are now fleeing for their very lives, homeless and alone--Only to be caught in a "spatial anomaly" which will do in most of the rest of them). Crummy luck--reminds me of the way things sometimes work out in "real life."
And Scotty--the Miracle Worker--to the best of all his abilities and legendary skills, is frustratingly able to save so few of them... and in front of a slew of TV news reporters, no less. This is a reality check, a subtle means of showing that this "legend" is really a person (albeit a very talented one) and subject to all the laws of physics, Murphy, and bad luck as the rest of us.
Even the absence of Spock and McCoy (though I understand that this was a result of the actors' refusal to be in the film, rather than a predetermined plot point) nevertheless worked very well. Of course Kirk would be alone, without his true friends when the shit hits the fan. All the more tragic, I say.
Then we have Picard (during what should have been one of his happier moments, a celebration with his crew and closest friends) learning that his family has been killed in a house fire. Not murdered at the hands of an arch-enemy, but killed in a stupid, and probably preventable accident. This is the sort of thing that happens in REAL LIFE, not in the stuff of legends! And for that reason, it strikes us on a very terrifying and human level.
The film is chock-full of tragedy--and, at the sake of reiterating myself, I'll clarify that: REAL tragedy, not cinematic tragedy. The fusing of Data's emotion chip is a perfect example:
Data had striven for seven screen years to obtain emotions the hard way, by learning them and growing as a human... But when presented with a "cheap and fast" means of obtaining them, he fell victim to this temptation and went for it. Surely, he knew that Lor's emotion chip was not functioning correctly? Surely he knew that it was a dangerous, even unwise, undertaking to install the chip? But install it he did--with tragic results. While many critics seemed to find Data's humor in the film to be campy, unnecessary, or "bad acting", I beg to differ. I don't believe his humor was meant in any way to be comedic relief for the film--on the contrary, I found it to be nothing short of disturbing and inappropriate. The rashness and fallout of his misguided decision to install that emotion chip is evident in every joke he cracks: Laughing in times of danger, mouthing "Oh shit!" as the Enterprise crashes to the surface of the planet Veridian--this isn't comedy. This is truly unsettling, emotional instability. A tragedy for Data unlike any other I could envision--in his quest to become human, he opted for the "quick fix" and instead turned himself into an emotional cripple. (Note: I'm speaking within the context of Generations, I realize this plotline has been ignored in subsequent films). Data, in short, fell victim to one of humanity's most insidious downfalls: the easy road of temptation and laziness.
Which brings me to another theme of Generations: Temptation and Addiction. Let's take a look at the character of Dr. Soran:
Soran has been critically scorned as being a pretty lame villain--certainly he's no Khan, no Lor, no Q, no Borg Queen, no Gul Dukat... But then, I contend, was he ever meant to be?
Dr. Soran has no grandiose plans on taking over the universe, no desire for conquest or power. Indeed, he isn't even bent on any sort of literary revenge...! He only wants to get into the Nexus. Why? Simple, he's a drug addict.
And like a drug addict (who will stop at nothing, even destroying their own families to support their addiction) Soran will stop at nothing to get back into the Nexus. He doesn't care who or what he has to hurt or destroy to get there--he has already given over his sense of self, and his moral code, to his addiction. Surely, this is as tragic and pathetic and real a villain as has ever graced the screen of Trek?
Which brings us to the Nexus itself. A lot has been said that if it was so powerful and influential, how did Picard and Kirk so easily escape it's Siren's song? Well, here's my thought on the matter: I don't believe that the Nexus was all that powerful or manipulative. Mostly (like drug or alcohol addiction) I believe that it captured those personalities who were susceptible to its addictive influences. Kirk and Picard are both most assuredly self-realized and strong-willed characters. While they certainly may have been tempted and even tricked by the wiles of the Nexus, they also were both ABOVE giving in to it's temptations, once they realized what really going on. Now, it has been established in the film that the Nexus offers, not a life of perfect, wish-come-true illusion, but rather an illusory life of mediocre complacency--something that, IMO, neither Kirk nor Picard would or could EVER settle for.
And the tragedy continues. The Enterprise is destroyed by a old out-of-commission Klingon BoP, commanded by two lame villains, with a petty gripe? And not because of any battle mettle or brilliant strategy (a la TWOK), but rather, because they (after dehumanizing Geordi and "cheating" to get the shield frequencies) score a lucky hit on the warp core. What an end for the Federation flagship!
And even Geordi cannot prevent the core from going critical. Much like Scotty earlier in the film, Geordi is exposed, not as a miracle worker, but as a real person, bowing down to real physics. A tragedy, through and through.
And seeing the women and children evacuated in a panic to the saucer section--we are struck again by the inappropriateness of having families on a ship such as this. Yes, bad things can and do happen to good people.
And in the end, what is resolved? Nothing. Our heroes do not come out as such. They are not heroes in this particular "human adventure", they are merely survivors. They have learned a powerful lesson--perhaps one of the greatest lessons that there is: That the universe is unrelenting, bad things can and do happen for no good reason, and that God (or Q, the Organians, or the Wormhole aliens, what have you) works in mysterious ways. We can learn more from tragedy, than from high adventure.
And that's not to say that Generations doesn't have it's share of cinematic moments. The scene where Picard releases his pent-up anger and sorrow and frustration and admits to Troi that he fears that the Picard line will die with him is poignant and brilliantly punctuated with the star collapsing in on itself outside his window.
The crash landing of the saucer section is a wonderfully tragic edge-of-your seat sequence.
The shared scenes with Kirk and Picard were wonderfully character-driven and subtle--the chopping wood, the cooking of breakfast, the captains on horseback. Nothing over the top, but always true to their personalities.
And the opening scene of the champagne bottle floating through space to smash on the hull of the Enterprise-B is a particularly subtle and brilliant moment. After a careful viewing of the film, one must look back and wonder, "What exactly are we celebrating here?" On the surface, we (the audience) are celebrating a Star Trek anniversary. But in the context of the film, given that it is unmistakably a tragedy...? I think we are celebrating our acceptance of, and our willing to live despite, our own human mortality.
And a note on the Nexus time-travel: A lot of people have argued that the time travel was merely a gimmick used to cheat the plot. While I would agree with that in many other Trek stories, I don't think that's the case here. What was accomplished with Picard and Kirk's travelling back in time? Was the Enterprise saved? Was Picard's family saved? Was Kirk saved? Were the El Aurians saved? No... none of the tragedy was averted. The Nexus was not a gimmick, but a true, allegorical means of showing the futility and frustration, despite hope, in dealing with tragic circumstances.
So there it is. I LOVED this film. From the stark lighting to the character-driven story to the wonderfully apocalyptic sets. And when taken in it's proper context--as a true tragedy--and as being a VERY different kind of storytelling than most other Trek, I think it deserves a re-appraisal by its critics. For surely, there is a lot going on here, and most of it is very subtle.
Let's end with another subtle tragedy. Riker has given up, how many commands, waiting for the Enterprise-D? And in the end, when he finally gets (albeit temporary) command, he is accountable for the ship being destroyed.
In the film's final moments he tells Picard that he plans on "living forever." But we all know that he won't--because, if nothing else, this film has shown us that our heroes, like us, are all too human.
So there you have it, why not revisit a "lost" classic?
