A Defense, of Sorts, of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

I was originally writing this as a brief review on Letterboxd, but I ended up sinking enough time and thought into it that I cross-posted it here. Some basic familiarity with Star Trek and its original film series should help, but hopefully you'll be able to get the gist. The salient information is that Star Trek V: The Final Frontier is the least-liked of all the Trek films, certainly among the originals, and that - not entirely unrelatedly - it is the one piece of the series to be directed by William Shatner, the actor who played Captain Kirk, the lead character in the first two TV shows and the initial films.

For all his shortcomings as a human being and a public figure (especially once he discovered the joys of arguing with marginalized communities on Twitter in old age), William Shatner is, unironically, an incredibly talented performer and a fascinating, canny artist, albeit one whose reach seems to constantly exceed his grasp in the latter case. Exhibit A: The Final Frontier, the failings of which were in many ways beyond his contro,l but which became yet more fuel for the well-rehearsed ridicule of the man as an egotistical blowhard. Which he undoubtedly is! But he’s a fascinating blowhard. Just watch that clip of him after the trip to space with Jeff Bezos, where a clearly shaken Shatner is grappling with and trying to articulate the vastness of the profound existential experience he’s had, while Bezos vapidly ignores what he's saying and drinks champagne. Shatner’s a big thinker, and his original conception for this film, a "tone poem" more in line with the dark and contemplative approach of The Motion Picture, sounds similarly soulful and searching. Would it have been any good? No idea, but for better or worse, I dare suggest it would have been more compelling than the first film’s flat and stunted approach to similar themes. Shatner feels this stuff in his gut, and whether he would have been able to express it effectively or with good artistic judgment, I don’t know, but it would have been interesting.

It’s tragically ironic that The Final Frontier aches for the grandiose visuals of The Motion Picture, given how infamously botched the effects are here; I would even dare to suggest that Shatner, despite his directorial weaknesses in some areas, has a more instinctively cinematic eye than Nimoy or even Meyer did, but doesn’t have the resources to back him up. Nor does it help anything that the actual meat of the film, the stuff that Shatner was interested to explore, doesn’t substantially appear until over an hour into the goddamn thing in favor of studio-mandated, Star Wars-style space adventure boilerplate (though the Nimbus III sections have their own kitschy interest, and the concept of a “Paradise Planet” that’s become a chintzy, commodified ruin does resonate interestingly). This leaves precious little time for The Final Frontier to explore the search for God and the yearning for spiritual and emotional catharsis that clearly makes up Shatner’s thematic concerns. And even then, there’s the fact that Star Trek had already explored somewhat similar ground in more satisfying ways: the crown jewel of The Animated Series, “The Magicks of Megas-Tu,” had already given the crew a spiritual reckoning with an actual mythological and Biblical figure, and had dared to put the surely incendiary suggestion out on 1970s family television that maybe Satan was actually a benevolent, well-meaning figure after all. Once you’ve done that, going up against a bully of a fake God shooting lasers from His eyes just feels like a lesser retread.

And yet, let’s be honest: is Kirk and company confronting a giant blue old guy face with the symbolic import of the actual God not exactly the sort of goofiness we enjoy Star Trek for? Or that the effects, while cheap, are still leagues ahead of much of the original TV series while maintaining that “immense ambition and no budget” feel? The Final Frontier is silly in ways it didn’t intend to be, but let’s be honest, it truly is classic Trek in that regard. Of course, one of the not-unjustified criticisms of the film is that much of its other charm is forced, in the form of a lot of studio-mandated comedy. On which…I’ll be honest, not much stands out as worse than being plain silly. YMMV of course, but only Scotty bonking his head stands out to me as truly egregious, especially because they could easily have adjusted the bit to have him bump into something that shouldn’t have been there owing to the ship being in disrepair. Beyond that, sure, Spock getting “marshmallow” wrong is out of character, but hearing Nimoy say “marsh melon” is fun and who knows, maybe whatever the 23rd century equivalent of autocorrect messed the word up. And Uhura’s fan dance definitely feels off and objectifying, but let’s be real, would the fanboys be upset with the scene if Nichelle Nichols were twenty years younger? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Ageists.

Beyond that, there’s stuff that just genuinely works. Spock’s and McCoy’s flashbacks are genuinely affecting, as is the pair’s ultimate show of loyalty to Kirk, proof it was needed that Shatner knew how to handle tone and work with his co-stars. William Shatner does direct William Shatner to a notably worse performance than in the preceding three films, closer to the bullish and unlikable Kirk of The Motion Picture than the charming and thoughtful lead of Wrath through Voyage, but he nails the crucial, moving moments where Kirk professes his affection for his friends. Indeed, the real irony of the film’s status as Shatner’s vanity project is that the ultimate theme is how much Kirk needs and loves his friends and crew, a sentiment all the more poignant considering Shatner’s strained relations with his collaborators. Kirk here is Shatner’s idealized version of himself, the man capable of confronting life’s big questions, overcoming his limitations and flaws, and forging strong friendships in a way that the real man struggled to, much as Tom Baker’s iconic role as the fourth Doctor Who gave that abrasive, deeply flawed man a heroic ideal and role model to embody in a way that Baker himself fell short of. And while Baker softened considerably over the years and comes across as rather a teddy bear in his old age, Shatner seems resigned to living down to his best self, notably for the eagerness with which he has taken to being an Angry Old Cis White Man on the internet in his declining twilight years. But while it’s easy and, alas, necessary to criticize Shatner on those and other grounds, it’s the same situation as Tom Baker: I could never begin to actually dislike either of them. I like The Final Frontier less than its director, but for all that it’s a compromised mess that’s very far from living up to its own potential and may never have had the chance to, actively disliking it ultimately feels like it would take more effort than it’s worth. It is, if nothing else, an ambling boat trip with beloved friends, and that feels entirely fitting; the campfire songs may be goofy and toe-curling for many, but they come from the heart.

It’s fine. 6/10