J.J. Abrams’ second installment in his rebooted Star Trek series begins with a perfectly-formed action set piece which, despite its breakneck pace, finds enough time to pose key questions about “the prime directive”. Long-time fans will doubtless be elated about the inclusion of this particular piece of Trek-lore, after Abram’s first film – 2009’s Star Trek – drew a great deal of criticism from Trekkies for not paying enough attention or respect to the franchise’s roots. For the uninitiated, “the prime directive” is a core principle of Federation law which forbids Starfleet’s intervention in the development of “pre-warp” civilisations. A blatant allegory for non-interventionist global politics, the directive has been used as a plot device to generate moral dilemmas for Trek captains since its first appearance in the original TV series in 1967. Though far from obvious at the time, references made to the directive in the opening moments of Star Trek Into Darkness actually give a good indication of the direction the film takes as a whole – one defined by both moral dilemma and reference to Trek history. Unfortunately, neither theme is handled particularly well by the film-makers, as we shall explore below.
The film pits Captain Kirk (Chris Pine), Commander Spock (Zachary Quinto) and the rest of the Enterprise crew against enemies both foreign and domestic, as they attempt to hunt down the mysterious John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch), a terrorist waging a one-man war against Starfleet. Their pursuit takes the crew deep into the territory of the antagonistic Klingon Empire, where they quickly discover the truth about their covert mission and the real identity of Harrison and his allies, with deadly consequences for Starfleet’s best and brightest. Alliances will be broken, friendships tested and sacrifices made before the credits roll, making Star Trek Into Darkness a film which is packed with violent and emotional spectacle.
The film is indeed spectacular in the literal sense of the word as it races from one breathtaking set-piece to another, be it a skirmish with snappily-redesigned Klingon warriors, a heart-stopping space-leap between two starships, or the overwhelming sight of a tumbling space craft levelling half of a futuristic San Francisco. Abrams’ talent for shooting grandiose action sequences proves to be the film’s greatest strength, though the humorous yet touching interaction between the main characters manages to keep the movie grounded whenever style threatens to overwhelm substance, and is a credit to both the actors and writers involved. Special mention must also go to Benedict Cumberbatch, who works menacing wonders with what on paper is little more than a pantomime villain role, and Peter Weller, whose Admiral Marcus becomes a memorable character when he could merely have been an extended cameo.
Where Star Trek Into Darkness really falls down, though, is in its approach to the twin themes of moral dilemma and Trek history. The question of whether the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few is posed repeatedly in a heavy-handed and somewhat clumsy manner, whether through the aversion of a massive natural disaster through one person’s death, the destruction of a ship full of people to ensure the military advancement of a species, or the sacrifice of an individual to save their crew-mates. In all but one of these scenarios a handy third option eventually presents itself, sparing the characters from engaging properly with some rather sticky moral problems. This convenience suggests that the point of the exercise is not a meditation on moral philosophy, but rather the aping of the film’s televisual and cinematic predecessors, which would frequently pose such questions to their characters, and by extension their audience, often without providing convenient answers. A subplot involving the attempted execution of one character without trial also feels less like an allegory for targeted drone strikes recently employed by the US military in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and more like another attempt to shoehorn in moral dilemma for the sake of paying homage to the Star Treks of yesteryear.
It is this tendency towards homage which is the film’s greatest weakness. While it is understandable that Abrams and the film’s writers would wish to make reference to the original incarnations of their characters, particularly as 2009’s Star Trek drew criticism for not being enough of a “Star Trek” film, the whole point of the ‘alternate timeline’ conceit which underpins Abrams’ movies is surely to have the freedom to tell fresh stories with familiar characters. While it makes sense within the film’s fictional universe for certain characters and situations from the original films to be re-used, it is frustrating as a viewer to see great chunks of classic story-lines simply given a modern make-over, and smacks of laziness on the part of the screenwriters. Spock’s rather awkward delivery of a classic line towards the end of the film sums it up perfectly; the viewer is uncomfortably reminded that what they are seeing is a very deliberate reference to an older film, and the effect is jarring. Homage is all well and good, but there must be a line, and Star Trek Into Darkness unfortunately crosses it. For all its towering spectacle, the film ultimately feels like a tribute act to the original article.
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