A very emo ‘Star Trek’

Fantasy and science fiction serve a useful social function, besides offering excuses for various subcultures to congregate at conventions: they allow fans to enter inviting worlds that, in ways, seems preferable to their own, and even offer pointers on how to survive in the real world.

At least that’s my understanding of the appeal of shows like Star Trek and Game of Thrones.

Recently, an episode of Game of Thrones ended with a punked-up version of a minstrel song called “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” played by Brooklyn band The Hold Steady. The lyrics reminded me of the kind of people who enjoy Game of Thrones: often bearded and hairy types who enjoy eating whole legs of lamb at theme parks, playing strategic games like Minecraft and imagining themselves in a time of chivalry and grateful maidens.

Yet most modern science fiction, in contrast, offers dull-gray, grim dystopias, visions of a future no one would possibly want to occupy.

That’s why J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek reboot is a welcome tonic. It offers (as did the original TV series) that rare thing in modern sci-fi: a hopeful future, one in which basic humanity and reason can flourish throughout the known universe. The Enterprise mission, after all, was “to boldly go where no man has gone before.” But mind you, not to shove its technology or code of living down other people’s throats. That’s how Star Trek: Into Darkness opens, with Captain James Kirk (Chris Pine) and Dr. “Bones” McCoy (Karl Urban) fleeing from native peoples who have discovered them gathering information on their planet. They escape the arrow-wielding natives, but not without revealing their massive rescue ship. Oops. This violates basic Starfleet Mandates: they are there to observe, not interfere, never altering the destiny or development of any civilization. (This, in itself, is an idealized view of human progress which, with few exceptions, has been built on precisely opposite principles.)

The opening of Into Darkness is a corker, as we learn that Kirk’s (very human) recklessness has forced Starfleet to take away his command of the Enterprise and split up the old gang (which again includes Zachary Quinto as an impeccable Spock). But fear not, the mission is still on: a terrorist — former Starfleet agent John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) — targets Starfleet headquarters with a gunship during an emergency meeting, then escapes to a Klingon planet called Kronos. In an unprecedented move, Kirk and the Enterprise are sent to the planet to target Harrison with photon torpedoes (shades of preemptive US drone attacks). It’s a trap, of course, and before you know it, Kirk is battling his most formidable adversary: superior acting.

No, just kidding. Pine makes a great Kirk, and all the assembled cast — Simon Pegg as Scotty, John Cho as Sulu, Zoe Saldana as Lt. Uhura — bring their own light moments to Into Darkness. But it’s Cumberbatch who really steps up as the most effective baddie since Alan Rickman slimed his way onto the screen as Hans Gruber. It’s a treat to watch Cumberbatch switch from playing a cold, emotionally arid Sherlock Holmes in the BBC series to playing a cold, emotionally arid villain.

Yet Abrams faces a challenge. He’s admittedly a latecomer to the Star Trek phenomenon: he claims he “didn’t get” the TV series, even as his friends growing up raved about it. Yet what Abrams does “get” is episodic TV pacing, and both Star Trek reboots feature about three snazzy 40-minute set-ups in a row, each resolved before the next crisis arises. All that’s missing is the commercial breaks.

Of course, Abrams has the luxury of, as he puts it, a “somewhat bigger budget” than the ‘60s TV series. No more Styrofoam boulders or lizard suits. None of the dated special effects of the movie remakes from the ‘70s and ‘80s. This is sleek, edge-of-your-seat entertainment. Add to this the trademark Abrams wit (with a script by Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtzman and Damon Lindelof), and it’s a smooth ride all the way.

The challenge for Abrams is to reach out to both Trekkies and non-fans, and he largely does that, bringing to life a crew that is much-beloved by generations deeply familiar with Gene Roddenberry’s creation. What he offers is a movie for non-fans that fans will also like. Well, some, anyway. Others — serious Trekkies — take umbrage at anything that strays too far from total earnest reverence of the characters and original scenarios.

Abrams ups the ante by playing on certain nuances of the original show — the romance between Uhuru and Spock that’s only hinted at in the TV series, the bromance between Spock and Kirk — and making them key plot points. And he actually pulls it off! It’s the emo Star Trek!

Underneath it all, there is much less of the philosophical musing that made Star Trek such a unique show. But the sci-fi ideas are still there — including a major overhaul of the original “Space Seed” episode that Trekkies know can only lead to a “logical” conclusion. And the hopefulness is there, too. Perhaps because we know that this crew is destined for a “five-year mission.” And for once, you don’t find the prospect of more sequels of this caliber all that troubling.