MY MOVIE SHELF: Star Trek

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 18 Days to go: 14

Movie #422:  Star Trek

This was the very first blu-ray I bought, for our very first blu-ray player back in Christmas 2009, a gift for my husband (when he was still just my live-in boyfriend). It was billed (the format, not the film) as the best way to watch movies at home ever, and boy, was it. The fact that this J.J. Abrams reboot of the classic series/films is utterly fantastic certainly doesn’t hurt.

I never really liked watching Star Trek on TV as a kid. My mom was a big fan, so it found its way on pretty often, but I just couldn’t tune it out fast enough. Even the siren song of Wil Wheaton (who makes a voice cameo in this film as a Romulan) in Next Generation couldn’t hold my attention for long. I did get dragged to several of the films over the course of my childhood and adolescence (my favorite was The Voyage Home), but an affinity for it never really took. However, I absorbed enough of it to understand, to appreciate, and to be completely blown away by this version.

The challenge of any reboot is how to make the material new and fresh while maintaining the spirit of the original. Often there’s the risk / worry of rehashing old stories over and over (as in the case with Spider-Man’s origin story), or deviating so far from beloved canon (or that are just bad films) that the fan base decries and abandons the new work (as is the case with countless reboot attempts). Abrams avoided all of these pitfalls in his Star Trek reboot by employing a simple yet brilliant structural tactic: an alternate reality.

We open on the USS Kelvin, a Star Fleet ship about to be destroyed by time-displaced Romulans led by Nero (Eric Bana, bald and badass) looking to exact revenge on Spock from the future (Leonard Nimoy) and settling for any member of the Federation. Aboard this ship is one George Kirk (Chris Hemsworth), a first officer who gets made captain when his captain is killed and who evacuates the ship before it falls to the Romulans. Among the evacuees are his wife and newborn son, one James Tiberius Kirk. This one inciting event erases everything that came before — every episode, every film, every relationship, every everything — and starts the world anew.

In this world, Kirk (Chris Pine) has never known his father, who died on the Kelvin. He’s grown up willful and rebellious. He has no direction. He comes to Star Fleet as a recruit on a dare from Captain Pike (Bruce Greenwood), but he’s far too cocky and disobedient to be considered admirable or a leader. He’s not given command of the Enterprise. Instead, he’s grounded pending academic suspension. It’s grizzled friend Bones (Karl Urban) who gets him on the ship, where he’s rivals with the Spock of this reality (Zachary Quinto) — and in which Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and Spock are romantically involved. Suddenly, everything is possible all over again, and all new stories are set to be told. What’s past is still past (as Spock Prime can attest), but what’s ahead can be anything. It’s so obvious, and so clever, and so great as a structural, foundational move that it’s even given me hope for the upcoming Star Wars sequels.

The casting in this film is essential, naturally, because that’s the one aspect that really does need to emulate the earlier version, and it’s superb. In addition to the main cast, there is the adorable Anton Yelchin as Chekov, the fantastic Simon Pegg as Scotty, and the beautiful, perfect John Cho as Sulu. There are even crazy weird cameos, like Tyler Perry hanging out as some Federation big wig and Winona Ryder, six years Quinto’s senior, noticeably aged to be Spock’s mom.

Of course, the film itself — its story — also has to hold up to scrutiny, and it does. It clocks in just over two hours long, and yet the narrative is rich, layered and detailed, with lots of different locations, conflicts, and obstacles to tackle. It’s tightly plotted and well-paced, and it’s undeniably my favorite foray into the Star Trek universe. May it live long and prosper.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Stand By Me

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 172  Days to go: 121

Movie #266:  Stand By Me

I was just a smidge younger than the four main boys in Stand By Me when it came out, but I still had a pretty hard time relating to it. I mean, I liked it a whole lot — it’s funny and thoughtful and even suspenseful and frightening in places — but these boys were not like boys I knew. Or if they were, then I didn’t know any boys all that well. (My brother wasn’t even born yet when this movie came out, so I never really got to experience boys up close until I was much older.) These boys were worldlier than I was, by far. I don’t know if it’s simply because girls don’t have penises, but I was never aware before this movie that it was important for it to be a “fat one,” or how traumatizing it might be for a leech to be on your balls. I also had never heard swears like these before. I didn’t even know what a pussy was, but it sounded really bad. I’m also not a big fan of barfing, but I suspect that’s just my shocking lack of a sense of humor at work, because clearly, barfing is hilarious.

In their small Maine hometown (because Stephen King, natch), four best friends set out on a hike the weekend before they enter junior high in order to see a dead body. Such is the premise of Stand By Me. It’s a story being narrated (written, as it turns out) by Richard Dreyfuss, the grown-up version of Gordie Lachance (Wil Wheaton). Gordie and his friends Chris (River Phoenix), Teddy (Corey Feldman) and Vern (Jerry O’Connell) find out about the dead body of a boy several miles away when Vern overhears his older brother talking about it with his friend, and the foursome sets out to “claim” the missing boy and maybe get a reward or be on TV. These are lofty goals for a twelve-year-old.

There is a mad dash to beat a train (in a truly heart-racing scene), the aforementioned run-in with some leeches, and a legendary dog who responds to the command, “Chopper, sic balls.” There is also the problem of Vern’s brother Billy (Casey Siemaszko) and his gang of reprobates, led by some street thug named Ace (Kiefer Sutherland), who, once Billy and friend Charlie (Gary Riley) spill the beans about boosting a car and stumbling upon the body, want to claim it for themselves. They’re sort of laughably tame in their thuggery, playing mailbox baseball with actual rules and brandishing a little switchblade like it means something, but when the movie first came out I found them terrifying. No way I would’ve wanted to run into them in a dark alley.

The journey is eye-opening and the conversations are charming and the soundtrack is a treasure trove of oldies but goodies, but the four boys (and the actors portraying them) are what make the film so great.

Jerry O’Connell is adorably dumpy as Vern. He does this weird thing with his mouth when he talks that might as well be subtitled “ah-doi.” It’s really hard to believe the beautiful man he is now really used to be this dopey little klutz. Vern is a bit of a punching bag to the others (literally, in Teddy’s case), but there’s also this sweet naiveté to him, this innocence that hasn’t been corrupted by a whole lot of hardship. I mean, if the worst thing to ever happen to you is that you lost a jar of pennies under your porch, then you’re either living a charmed life or a blissfully ignorant one. In Vern’s case, I’d definitely say it’s the latter, but it doesn’t make him any less likable. He’s a doof, yeah, but he’s a well-meaning, good-natured doof.

Teddy, on the other hand, is pretty dark. He’s aggressive and loud and is fascinated by violence. He’d been horribly maimed by his father, yet he still worships the guy, as if storming the beach at Normandy makes everything else okay. He’s all over the place, really, acting out one minute, being all self-serious the next. Today he’d probably be diagnosed with some sort of mood disorder, but back then he was just an “active” boy or some such. He’s definitely less likable than Vern, but you still see what the others see in him, and that’s quite a balance to pull off. God, remember when Corey Feldman could legitimately act?

Gordie is quiet and small, clearly smarter than the others and also more introspective. He misses his brother Denny (John Cusack) who died a few months prior, and he doesn’t know how to act anymore because of it — not with his parents, or with people who compare him to Denny, or even anyone who just brings Denny up in conversation. He tells a good story, though, and since both Denny and Chris encouraged that talent, he holds onto it. People take Gordie for granted, but he’s not the pushover everyone thinks he is, and he can definitely put Ace in his place. (With the helpful hardware man?) He’s a little shy and a little scared, but he stands by his friends and he sticks to what he believes in. It might be that the story is being told from his perspective, but you’ve got to admire that in a person. Gordie is also, as far as I’m concerned, the best, most nuanced character Wil Wheaton ever played. I really liked Gordie as a girl, and I don’t think anyone picked him out to be the type to crush on, but he was a lot like I was, and I responded to it.

Of course, not even I was immune to the sexy pre-adolescence of River Phoenix as Chris Chambers. I may have been the most like Gordie, but wounded bad-boy-trying-to-make-good Chris set off all my instinctual attraction triggers, even then. He was quiet, too, and thoughtful, but he had a tough exterior and a hard life that he was always trying to escape. People in town may have thought he was shit, but deep down in his heart he was a good person, and that came screaming through his tight little white t-shirt. It’s incredible to me that both — Chris and River — would die tragically, well before either one of their times. More than any other of River’s films, this one makes me nearly cry to think about the talent and potential that was lost. He was just so good here.

All the boys were great, in fact, and somehow each one of them managed to portray a character that perfectly fit the description of their older selves the narrator gives at the close of his tale. And the line about Chris, “Although I hadn’t seen him in more than ten years, I know I’ll miss him forever,” is perfect. I wish he would’ve ended the story right then, in fact, because the actual last line that he types, about never having friends again like he did when he was twelve, then “Jesus, does anyone,” is a horrible pile of schockly hack crap. Is that how Stephen King closes his novels? Fingers crossed that whole last paragraph gets edited out in the revision phase.

Now go play with your kids.