Star Trek III: The Search for Spock

The odd-numbered Star Trek films always get a bad rap, but the third installment in the venerable TV show's leap to the big screen is far better than its reputation. It's just damn hard to follow Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn, which, in my opinion, is not only the best Star Trek movie, it’s one of the best movies ever made. Director/writer Nicholas Meyer and producer/writer Harve Bennett had rejuvenated the bloated, beached whale that Star Trek was in the early '80s by taking the $12M budget Paramount allotted them (about a 4th of what Gene Roddenberry and Robert Wise were given to make the lethargic and overblown Star Trek: The Motion Picture in 1979), and making a thrilling, nautically-inspired, swashbuckling adventure picture. Wrath of Kahn was not only a ton of fun, it struck significant emotional chords by embracing the undeniable fact that the cast was getting older. Meyer and his team crafted a meditation on mortality within their sci-fi action picture that was far more effective than most straightforward dramas about death, grief, and loss. In addition to bringing back Ricardo Montalbán’s character from an episode of the old TV show and turning him into one of cinema's greatest villains, that film introduced all kinds of terrific sci-fi ideas like the Genesis Device, a process for terraforming dead worlds so that they can be inhabited by new life. The film also delved into Kirk's past by introducing his former flame, Carol Marcus, and his grown son David, who are the lead scientists developing this new technology.

Star Trek II ended with the radical move of killing off Mr. Spock—back in the days when the death of a character in a work of genre cinema actually meant something. That concept is probably difficult for people under 40 to wrap their brains around due to the trend, largely started by this movie, of studios and creators reviving beloved characters from the dead via recasting, flashbacks, ghostly visitations, deep-fakes, nonsensical "do-overs," and any thinkable means of reversing a seemingly powerful and unchangeable choice. For the past two decades, I've not been able to understand how any viewer could feel even the least bit emotional when they see "the final appearance" of a character in a movie or TV show because these characters (and usually the actors) will always come back. But in 1982, the demise of Spock was HUGE and felt to many like an actual death.

As Star Trek II was wrapping up, executive producer Harve Bennett realized the film had the potential to be a major hit that would secure a continuing future for the series on film. He also knew that star Leonard Nimoy no longer resented playing Mr. Spock, as had been widely reported in the press. Right before shooting Spock's death scene, he asked the actor to come up with something that would keep the door open for a possible return of the character. The solution was simply that Spock put his hand on Dr. McCoy's face and said, "Remember." This would be the starting point for Star Trek III, which Bennett assigned himself to write. Although the TV series had established that it took several minutes for the half-Vulcan Mr. Spock to engage in a "Vulcan Mind-Meld—the ritual in which he would touch the face of another person or entity, speak several words about their minds becoming one, and soon be able to read their thoughts, emotions, and feelings—Bennett decided that the quick face-touch Spock gave McCoy enabled the Vulcan to download his entire essence into McCoy's brain. It's a ridiculous conceit. However, like the letters of transit in Casablanca, it's the type of narrative device where its sheer preposterousness doesn't actually matter, provided it is the only absurd thing the audience is asked to accept. The concept of "the Katra," a Vulcan term for "all that is not of the body," is not only simplistic, it's silly. I mean, if it just involves a quick touch on someone's face, why don't all Vulcans download their Katra into someone else before dying so they can all live forever? But Bennett, a former TV writer, was savvy enough to gamble that audiences just wanted Spock back and wouldn’t complain about the method, even though it was most assuredly "not logical."

Still, when you compare the masterful work Bennett and Meyer did on Wrath of Kahn, pulling all kinds of desperate narrative threads and ideas from the many screenplays commissioned for the second Star Trek movie into such a seamless and complexly layered work of entertainment, the way the Search for Spock script is incited feels a bit underdeveloped. I don't think it would have taken too much screentime to have Spock's father, Sarek—played so well by Mark Lenard, who originated the role in an episode of the TV series—explain to Kirk a more credible backstory for the Katra. The Vulcan tradition could have been that you give your Katra to the person you're with when you die, and they, being Vulcan, would know to bring your essence to the top of Mount Seleya and set it free to commune with all other past souls, and that would be the only "future" for Spock that Sarek sees at the start of the movie. However, since Spock was buried on the regenerating Genesis Planet, there is a rare opportunity to use a Vulcan ritual practiced only in legend, which will reunite the body with all that is not of the body. Most of these details are what's in the movie, except the singularity of the specific circumstances that enable a possibility that the ancient ritual might work this one time.

Regardless of my narrative nitpicking, I've always admired what Bennett did as a producer when he took over the Star Trek series. He brazenly ignored fan culture, which was as loud, vocal, and toxic as it is today, but lacked the power of the internet to fully impose its will and its wrath upon creators. Bennett and Meyer knew little about Star Trek when they took over the series, but they knew how to tell a story. They also respected their actors, who were thrilled to get a good script and had no objection to the direction their characters were taken in. This was not a Rian Johnson / Mark Hamill situation. Shatner had to be convinced to embrace the idea that Kirk would have gotten older, needed reading glasses, and would meet his adult son, but he got on board because there were great scenes for him to perform. Nimoy loved what Bennett, Meyer, and the many contributing screenwriters did with Spock in Wrath of Kahn, especially the heroic sacrifice and death scene.

Bennett knew Nimoy was interested in directing and offered him the chance to helm the next film. The savvy producer knew that "Leonard Nimoy directs The Search for Spock" was a great promotional gimmick! Bennett's screenplay, while not on the same level as Wrath of Kahn, is simple and solid. When Admiral Kirk learns that there might be a chance to save his friend, he and his loyal crew defy orders, steal the Enterprise, and venture to The Genesis Planet, where Kirk's son and the Vulcan officer Saavik have discovered the planet has somehow rebirthed Spock's body from its photon torpedo coffin. Moreover, the script is funny. It deals with some out-their events, so it doesn't take itself too seriously except during appropriately emotional moments, which are highly effective. The Star Trek films got funnier and funnier as they went along from the deadly serious The Motion Picture to the goofy The Final Frontier. That humor was a characteristic of the series that fans also loved. Bennett seemed to intrinsically know that as many fans who hated him for doing things like killing Spock and blowing up the Enterprise, just as many fans (as well as audiences who were not Star Trek obsessives) would appreciate the humor, great character moments, and storytelling.

Star Trek III goes out of its way to give each of the supporting characters a scene where they shine. This was clearly something that Nimoy also saw as important now that he was going to be in charge of all his fellow actors. Nimoy had been instrumental in making sure the supporting cast was respected. He had refused to take part in Star Trek The Animated Series back in 1973 until the production company hired OG cast members Nichelle Nichols and George Takei (who were originally not hired for that cost-conscious series). Nimoy also hired television actors for lead roles in the picture. Much to the studio's chagrin, he cast Christopher Lloyd, best known for his Emmy-winning role as the spaced-out Jim Ignatowski on the sitcom Taxi, which had just ended the prior year, as the main baddy. Lloyd, at least, would be under layers of Klingon makeup, but when James B. Sikking from Hill Street Blues was given the role of the cocksure commander of the fancy new starship Excelsior, the studio went nuts. "These are TV actors; you can't put them in a movie, was not a smart ultimatum to give a director who was himself a TV actor who had difficulty crossing over to film. Nimoy also cast John Larroquette, who had just started his mult-Emmy-wining stint on the sitcom Night Court, and Phillip R. Allen, a familiar face from countless guest shots on everything from Mary Tyler Moore and Bob Newhart to Dark Shadows, Happy Days, Kojak, Eight Is Enough, Quincy, Baretta, Dallas, Matlock, and The Fall Guy.

Unfortunately, Star Trek III looks a bit like a TV show in the way it’s lit and photographed. Television cinematographer Charles Correll (who also shot Animal House) gives this movie little of the dark, foreboding tension Gayne Rescher brought to Wrath of Kahn, nor the epic sweep of Richard H. Kline's photography in The Motion Picture. Correll and Nimoy can't hide the studio-bound, paltry-budget nature of their production as artfully as Mayer and Rescher did. Still, where it counts, the movie manages some evocative looks. The dimness of the Enterprise bridge as it is helmed by just five officers; the stark close-ups of Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov as they begin the self-destruct sequence in order to escape; the submarine-like red lighting of the Klingon bridge when their ship is hidden under its cloaking device; and The Genesis Planet itself as the new world destroys itself as rapidly as it came into effect. Most of the planet's exteriors are clearly shot on a soundstage, but the way the filmmakers use that stage and some rather primitive practical visual effects more than effectively sells the idea that Genesis could not live up to its promise as anything more than what the Klingons see in it, a force pf planetary destruction rather than creation.

Effects house Industrial Light and Magic more than comes through with the space shots. From the scene of the Enterprise escaping from space dock to the beloved ship's ultimate fate orbiting The Genesis Planet, the scenes in space are almost as thrilling as those in Wrath of Kahn. The most impressive addition is the Klingon Bird of Prey. Modified from the design in the TV show, this small, avian-like warship might be the coolest-looking spaceship ever devised for a movie. Its ability to hide behind a self-generated energy surge makes it all the more spooky and ominous. The musical stings composer James Horner contrives to accompany the various shots of the Bird of Prey are also inspired. Most of Horner's score is recycled from his work on Wrath of Kahn, but what he comes up with for the Klingon ship is as brilliant as anything in his oeuvre. I also love how, in the end, Horner references the vocal part of the original Star Trek theme—the only time in any of the movies where that memorable musical motif is utilized instead of the signature opening bars of Alexander Courage's theme music.

All in all, Nimoy does a fine job on his first directorial outing. The movie is a tight and lively entry in the series, featuring a lot of fun set-pieces and then turning more somber in the third act. The lengthy finale on planet Vulcan is quite effective, even though there isn't a single member of the audience who has any doubt as to whether the refusion of Spock's living essence with his new body will be successful. The fact that the film has a Vulcan director overseeing the elaborate Vulcan ritual that will bring him back to life could lead to an indulgence or two, but Nimoy makes the process rather "fascinating" by incorporating some of his own Jewish traditions into the way the Vulcan culture is depicted (as he memorably did at key times in the series). The presence of Dame Judith Anderson (Rebecca's sinister Mrs. Danvers) as the Vulcan high priestess doesn't hurt either. It all adds up to a satisfying conclusion to a satisfying picture. The success of The Search for Spock guaranteed that Wrath of Kahn was not a lucky fluke and that audiences wanted to see more of this series. Several more Trek films were made, as well as the many subsequent TV shows, and Nimoy would direct the next Trek movie, The Voyage Home, which became the highest-grossing and most beloved of the Star Trek movies.