My Take: Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)


There is something askew in the construction of Star Trek Into Darkness. As A.O. Scott notes, “‘Star Trek’ is essentially ‘The Office’ in space: an endless workplace comedy with bittersweet moments and secondary characters who spring vividly out of the background … Or it would be a sitcom without the galvanizing presence of evil...” This is a fair observation -- the film relies heavily on the trivialities and idiosyncrasies of its characters for entertainment -- but I would argue this statement does not strike at the core of this film.

Into Darkness’ story is nonsensical and bombastic. It’s messy and overly complicated. “Why would a Starfleet Admiral ask a 300-year-old frozen man for help?” Captain Kirk asks at one point. And I’d be damned if I could come up with a response. What is the villain’s motive? Eradicate all beings inferior to himself? Start an intergalactic war with the Klingons? Destroy the Starfleet HQ? Save his crew? A bit of each, it seems, but never articulated with a clear singular purpose.

Despite the exceedingly questionable plotting, director J.J. Abrams still infuses the film with a vibrancy and an energy rarely seen -- or experienced -- in summer films. It’s loud and fun and exhilarating. A space jump through careening space debris was especially thrilling. However, Abrams burrows ahead so quickly that there’s no time to stop and process. This is where the film starts to fall apart -- its pacing borders on overwhelming. The story never breaks, never breathes. Storytelling is all about setup, punchline, setup, punchline. You must lay the foundation of the act, let it marinade, then tap it to make your narrative point. Into Darkness seems to forget to relax, lunging forward from climax to climax, trying to one-up itself with each subsequent action set piece.

Given its source material, Into Darkness actually does very well -- I thoroughly enjoyed it as a summer popcorn flick. Indeed, Andrew O’Hehir notes “this is a brawny, mass-audience, popcorn-transmission vehicle … There’s absolutely nothing wrong with 'Star Trek Into Darkness' – once you understand it as a generic comic-book-style summer flick faintly inspired by some half-forgotten boomer culture thing.”

But beyond this film, it seems to me that summer movies are resorting to increasing levels of arbitrary twists and flourishes. And this is an alarming trend. Let me try to make some sense.

Much like The Avengers, Oblivion, or the more recent Iron Man 3, Into Darkness can’t quite decide on the story it wants to tell. So it stuffs more and more ideas into the pipeline, hoping one will resonate with the audience. These movies all try to say a lot; but in that confusion, they end up muddling any semblance of a clear theme or message. I often test myself with my personal set of questions -- call them my unofficial guide to dissecting a story, if you will -- “What did the hero want? What did the villain want? Who succeeded? And how did that change them?”

The problem I’ve noticed recently is that blockbusters rarely have a clear point. What is the hero’s motivation? Vengeance? Escape? What does the villain want? Destruction? Power? If you can’t construct -- and more importantly, articulate -- the bare minimum of the narrative, no amount of glistening CGI or explosions will be able to cover those holes. Story always comes first; everything else is superfluous.

I’ve never been a big fan of Star Trek. But over the years, I’ve watched enough episodes to understand why the show was and still remains popular. Its greatest appeal stemmed from its storytelling, its philosophical musings, and its scientific patina. Notice how the TV show from decades past had minimal, if any, special effects. There were no explosions, no space jumps, no giant spaceships firing missiles at one another. The entire mystique was built upon a solid foundation of intriguing stories and captivating ideas. And that I fear, is what we are quickly losing today.

I have nothing against Into Darkness or J.J. Abrams. He tackles projects with verve, enthusiasm, and a great technical proficiency. But for all his strengths, Abrams doesn’t quite boldly go anywhere -- he cautiously caters and strategically follows, resigned to telling thoroughly enjoyable but exceedingly insubstantial stories. And that is a damn shame.