Star Trek: Generations
Generations is an important but rocky turning point for the Star Trek franchise. It comes hot off the heels of the spectacular series finale of TNG, which wraps things up so nicely that any continuation of the story is going to undo that sense of closure. It's the first appearance of the TNG crew on the big screen, and as we saw with The Motion Picture, the transition from television to film is a learning experience. It's the first chapter in a new series of Trek movies, meaning at least one character from the old series needs to be there to pass the torch. Despite these challenges, Generations manages to tell a respectable story with some truly great moments, tie up some loose ends from the TV show, and set the stage for a sequel or three where anything could happen. At the same time, the story is emotionally draining, and the film juggles so many big ideas that it misses the opportunity to flesh a few of them out as well as I'd like.
The beginning of the movie perfectly captures the feel of the TOS films, and that's largely due to the spot-on dialogue. It's a joy to hear the banter between three well-established characters—Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov—who rarely, if ever, get to be a trio (even though you can tell that Chekov's role in the story was originally intended for McCoy). It's almost surreal that these members of the original Enterprise crew are celebrities in the Trek universe like the actors are in real life, but the paparazzi presence helps build that contrast between these experienced heroes and the rookie captain who's already cracking under the pressure of having too many people on his bridge. There's something profound about the parallels between this scene and the reality of TNG picking up the reins from TOS, and it's simultaneously a powerful anchor for one of the themes of this film and a respectful tribute to the Trek that started it all. The inclusion of Demora Sulu is a clever and heartwarming touch—not only is she a welcome addition to this new crew, but she offers a sense of legacy that further develops one of the movie's main themes, and we indirectly get some character development for her famous father. We get a mystery or two regarding the passengers of the Lakul, laying the groundwork for the main plot. Finally, we say farewell. When Kirk goes out, he goes out alone (like he always predicted) and like a hero. It's clear from the dialogue (and from the earlier movies) that he's restless without a ship to command, and I think Kirk would much rather die a hero's death than waste away in a twilight devoid of adventure. It's a hard blow, and it'll make you weep, but this is the way Jim Kirk should go out. All in all, it's a brilliant opening scene.
We cut to the high seas and find some familiar faces aboard the HMS Enterprise. In a smooth transition from something serious to something fun, the scene initially fools us into believing that Worf is being court-martialed, not promoted. There's some great thematic continuity here, too—first the old naval tradition of christening a ship with a bottle of champagne, then a ceremony aboard an actual (well, holographic) antique sailing vessel. Legacy, tradition, hanging on to the past—Generations knows exactly what kind of story it wants to tell. Unfortunately, it wants to tell a couple other stories as well, and that's where the movie starts to lose itself a little.
During Worf's nautical hazing ceremony, Data misunderstands the "spirit of things" and pushes Dr. Crusher into the drink. I'm with Data: I think this is a hoot. Everyone else, however, looks at him in shock and horror, which creates a bit of a tonal disconnect with the audience (or with me, at least). At this point, I'm still reeling from the loss of James T. Kirk; I need a few moments of happiness, but I feel hurt on Data's behalf when he gets reprimanded for something we both thought was totally sensible. This is where Generations starts becoming an emotional rollercoaster, with the highest and lowest points being almost stressfully far apart.
This also marks the beginning of a major subplot: Data's experimentation with the emotion chip. We're only five minutes into the film, and already we've been exposed to two different time periods with two different sets of characters, the death of a major character, a big event for another major character, and a lingering mystery or two from the opening scene. That's a lot to process in five minutes, but as discussed, it's all tied together with a similar theme. Data's subplot doesn't fit that theme. There's the potential for a connection, but without ever talking about the legacy of Dr. Soong or learning from past mistakes with Lore, the film loses a certain measure of cohesion. The effect is amplified for viewers with no previous knowledge of TNG—at no point does the film give any background on where this chip came from or why Data was reluctant to use it, which makes that first scene in Data's quarters especially confusing for newcomers. Furthermore, Data spent the entire run of TNG attempting to become more human; finally accomplishing that goal is nothing less than an A-story, but we already have an A-story in the form of Soran and the Nexus (whether we know it or not), so the two begin to compete for supremacy.
When a distress call interrupts the holodeck festivities, we're jolted out of a joyful celebration for the second time, and this is where the direction of the movie gets really fuzzy. Our mystery guy from the opening sequence (Soran) shows up again, looking no older than he did 78 years ago. The observatory he's aboard was apparently attacked by Romulans in search of trilithium, but nobody knows why. So now we've got a mystery on top of a mystery, and the involvement of Romulans almost guarantees that there's a bigger picture we're not seeing yet—which gets me (and Picard!) guessing about yet another A-story for this movie. There are several seemingly important details that go by very quickly in this section (in particular, the explanation of trilithium), so it can be difficult for even a seasoned Trek fan to keep up—and good luck to the neophytes who are drowning in technobabble.
Then Data's subplot goes into full swing. To be fair, Data's subplot is arguably the best part of the movie—it's extremely entertaining, highly memorable and quotable, and crucial to Data's character development. The only part I outright dislike about it is that my favorite character (Geordi) gets captured (a trope I'm tired of seeing in Star Trek) and tortured (which is hard enough to watch without it being your favorite character) because of Data's inability to act (another trope I could do without), but at least the situation stays focused enough on the characters to stave off any feelings of contrivance. Still, I have to wonder whether Data's subplot should have waited for a movie like Insurrection, where the main conflict is less urgent and the B-story is all about the heroes on a personal level. Generations already has a lot going on, and we haven't even gotten to Picard's family, the Duras sisters, or the Nexus itself. Every story the movie tries to tell is a story worth telling, but it weakens the movie as a whole to try to tell them all at once.
Part of the problem is the sheer number of characters vying for an equal share of the story. One of TNG's strengths is that it's an ensemble show where everyone gets a chance to shine, but even then, most episodes only focus on two or three characters. Generations is a Data story, and a Picard story, and a Kirk story, and sort of a Guinan story, and sort of a Geordi story, and a story about a trio of villains (Soran, Lursa, and B'Etor), with several other noteworthy characters in tow. First Contact gets around the problem of too many characters by splitting them into two main groups, one for the A-story and one for the related B-story. Generations cycles through several combinations of characters and pushes multiple storylines forward at once, and it's a little overwhelming.
Fortunately, once the major story components settle into place, we have a clear A-story (thwarting Soran's plan to re-enter the Nexus), a clear B-story (Data coming to grips with his new emotions), and a clear C-story (dealing with the Duras sisters). Unfortunately, because of how long it takes for the components to settle, the A- and C-stories don't get the kind of development they deserve.
First, the C-story. In The Wrath of Khan, you've got a villain who was already introduced in a TV episode, yet the movie takes the time to develop Khan as a brand-new character; having seen "Space Seed" just gives him more depth. The Duras sisters don't really get that development in Generations; once again, you need to have seen a few episodes of TNG to appreciate who they are and what they want. Without fleshing (or re-fleshing) them out, they're less like criminal masterminds and more like hired muscle, which cheapens the destruction of the Enterprise-D somewhat. It's a little inelegant for Soran's goons to be the ones to blow up a ship that seven seasons of constant danger couldn't defeat.
Still, as with Kirk's demise on the Enterprise-B, the death of this beloved starship is handled with respect. There's a feeling of controlled chaos that intensifies the impact of the evacuation sequence; we have time to process the inevitability of what's about to happen and can start saying our goodbyes. We get one last glimpse of a few iconic locations on the ship that we'll never see again. There's the extra emotional punch of being reminded that there are families on this ship, and their home is about to burn up—as simple as it is, the moment where the teddy bear gets left behind is powerfully heartbreaking to me. The ship's signature gimmick, the saucer separation, is put to its best use yet. When the saucer section hits the ground, it hurts, and the viewer is as stunned as the crew that this really happened, and that somehow they're still in one piece. Awesome stuff.
Then there's the A-story. Now, it seems to me that there's a pretty big plot hole underlying Soran's plan: if he first experienced the Nexus because his ship got too close to the energy ribbon, why go to all the trouble of blowing up half a solar system when he could just grab a shuttle and fly into the Nexus again? ("Believe me, this is the only [way]" is an insufficient explanation, but better than nothing.) Moreover, we never get a full appreciation of why Soran is so obsessed with getting back to the Nexus. Picard's there for, like, ten minutes, and it's nice and all, but he hardly has to struggle to break away from it. Kirk (surprise! Kirk's not really dead!) is decidedly more invested in the life the Nexus has to offer, but as soon as he gets the sense that it isn't real, he's ready to move on as well. Enough verbal and visual information is given about the Nexus for me to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the movie, but without seeing what Soran has been through, he comes off as a garden-variety madman. I want a flashback to the failed experiments that drove him to such an extreme solution for re-entering the Nexus. I want a vision of the paradise he briefly experienced, or of the life he lost at the hands of the Borg—preferably the latter, because that would further develop El-Aurian culture as well. Come to think of it, Soran's El-Aurian heritage is squandered a little; I wish it had informed his character more. (eg, "Do you like stories, Captain? My people have always been storytellers. I used to send my children to sleep with tales I'd heard from across the galaxy, marvelous stories of heroes and villains, stories to make them laugh and dream and aspire to great things. Inevitably, my children would ask for one more story, but there comes a time when the stories must end, the lights must go out, and the listener must accept the silence and the darkness and let sleep come to claim them. Where I'm headed, Captain, there will always be time to tell my children one more story. There will be no silence or darkness to accept; no Borg to turn off the light and claim my family.")
...But I digress. Soran has some great lines, and Malcolm McDowell's performance makes the character compelling, but I need more than what the movie gives me to fully accept that this is a villain worth sacrificing both James T. Kirk and the Enterprise-D to stop.
Of course, no discussion of Generations would be complete without a discussion of Kirk's rather unceremonious demise on Veridian III. Although getting to see Kirk and Picard interact with each other is a major selling point of the movie (and, once again, the dialogue is a highlight), Kirk's role at the very end of the movie could have been filled by pretty much anyone. On the plus side, Kirk does get to have one last hand-to-hand combat, but this is less of a "Jim Kirk is the only man for the job" situation and more of a "Jim Kirk is the only man available for the job" situation. Allowing his cause of death to be "rickety bridge" just makes it worse. What softens the blow is that, as far as I'm concerned, Kirk already died a hero's death at the beginning of the movie. He's been living on borrowed time since then. How he dies "for real" isn't as important as the fact that we get to spend a little more time with a character whose story ended several decades before. And you know what? If the movie had cut out one or two story threads, there probably would have been enough time to play up the teamwork between Kirk and Picard even more, and we would've gotten a story that ends more like "Relics" than "Skin of Evil".
In the end, Generations is too ambitious to be the outstanding movie it could have been, but the good parts are too numerous and strong to let the not-so-good parts completely overshadow them. The character interactions are believable and memorable, yielding a few of my all-time favorite Trek moments (specifically, the banter between Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov; Data sampling the drink in Ten-Forward; Data singing about scanning for life forms; and Kirk trying to make breakfast while Picard lectures at him about the fate of the universe). Similarly, crashing the Enterprise-D stands out to me as one of the most thrilling, gut-wrenching, and impactful action sequences in any Trek (and I give the movie bonus points for Geordi owning that crisis) We get to see the culmination of Data's quest to become human, Picard opening up about his family, Guinan being even more mystical than usual, two iconic captains meeting for the first time, and the brand-new (and super-cool) Stellar Cartography. There's some truly inspirational music in the soundtrack, and there's a strong sense of theming throughout much of the story. There are a few story threads too many, making the story a little hard to follow at first (particularly if you're new to Star Trek) and somewhat underdeveloped in places (particularly where the A-story is concerned). For as funny and inspirational as the movie gets, the tragic elements continually pull down the mood—Kirk dies (twice!), the Enterprise-D gets blown up, Geordi gets kidnapped and tortured, Picard's family dies in a fire, and Data even gets in trouble for trying to lighten the mood. If the intent was to make the viewer as emotionally overwhelmed as Data, the movie certainly accomplishes that. And strictly as a matter of personal preference, I tend to like a little more escapism in my Star Trek, and what we see inside the Nexus looks an awful lot like modern-day real life.
Generations is really a second series finale for TNG. It spends more time pulling on old story threads than creating new ones, and there's more of a sense of closure than of new beginnings. It's a fine farewell to the TV series, but it's bittersweet (and more bitter than sweet), which makes it all the harder to watch after the uplifting "All Good Things...". Generations is a welcome encore that does a lot of things right, but it's not entirely the transition to the big screen that I was hoping for.
The beginning of the movie perfectly captures the feel of the TOS films, and that's largely due to the spot-on dialogue. It's a joy to hear the banter between three well-established characters—Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov—who rarely, if ever, get to be a trio (even though you can tell that Chekov's role in the story was originally intended for McCoy). It's almost surreal that these members of the original Enterprise crew are celebrities in the Trek universe like the actors are in real life, but the paparazzi presence helps build that contrast between these experienced heroes and the rookie captain who's already cracking under the pressure of having too many people on his bridge. There's something profound about the parallels between this scene and the reality of TNG picking up the reins from TOS, and it's simultaneously a powerful anchor for one of the themes of this film and a respectful tribute to the Trek that started it all. The inclusion of Demora Sulu is a clever and heartwarming touch—not only is she a welcome addition to this new crew, but she offers a sense of legacy that further develops one of the movie's main themes, and we indirectly get some character development for her famous father. We get a mystery or two regarding the passengers of the Lakul, laying the groundwork for the main plot. Finally, we say farewell. When Kirk goes out, he goes out alone (like he always predicted) and like a hero. It's clear from the dialogue (and from the earlier movies) that he's restless without a ship to command, and I think Kirk would much rather die a hero's death than waste away in a twilight devoid of adventure. It's a hard blow, and it'll make you weep, but this is the way Jim Kirk should go out. All in all, it's a brilliant opening scene.
We cut to the high seas and find some familiar faces aboard the HMS Enterprise. In a smooth transition from something serious to something fun, the scene initially fools us into believing that Worf is being court-martialed, not promoted. There's some great thematic continuity here, too—first the old naval tradition of christening a ship with a bottle of champagne, then a ceremony aboard an actual (well, holographic) antique sailing vessel. Legacy, tradition, hanging on to the past—Generations knows exactly what kind of story it wants to tell. Unfortunately, it wants to tell a couple other stories as well, and that's where the movie starts to lose itself a little.
During Worf's nautical hazing ceremony, Data misunderstands the "spirit of things" and pushes Dr. Crusher into the drink. I'm with Data: I think this is a hoot. Everyone else, however, looks at him in shock and horror, which creates a bit of a tonal disconnect with the audience (or with me, at least). At this point, I'm still reeling from the loss of James T. Kirk; I need a few moments of happiness, but I feel hurt on Data's behalf when he gets reprimanded for something we both thought was totally sensible. This is where Generations starts becoming an emotional rollercoaster, with the highest and lowest points being almost stressfully far apart.
This also marks the beginning of a major subplot: Data's experimentation with the emotion chip. We're only five minutes into the film, and already we've been exposed to two different time periods with two different sets of characters, the death of a major character, a big event for another major character, and a lingering mystery or two from the opening scene. That's a lot to process in five minutes, but as discussed, it's all tied together with a similar theme. Data's subplot doesn't fit that theme. There's the potential for a connection, but without ever talking about the legacy of Dr. Soong or learning from past mistakes with Lore, the film loses a certain measure of cohesion. The effect is amplified for viewers with no previous knowledge of TNG—at no point does the film give any background on where this chip came from or why Data was reluctant to use it, which makes that first scene in Data's quarters especially confusing for newcomers. Furthermore, Data spent the entire run of TNG attempting to become more human; finally accomplishing that goal is nothing less than an A-story, but we already have an A-story in the form of Soran and the Nexus (whether we know it or not), so the two begin to compete for supremacy.
When a distress call interrupts the holodeck festivities, we're jolted out of a joyful celebration for the second time, and this is where the direction of the movie gets really fuzzy. Our mystery guy from the opening sequence (Soran) shows up again, looking no older than he did 78 years ago. The observatory he's aboard was apparently attacked by Romulans in search of trilithium, but nobody knows why. So now we've got a mystery on top of a mystery, and the involvement of Romulans almost guarantees that there's a bigger picture we're not seeing yet—which gets me (and Picard!) guessing about yet another A-story for this movie. There are several seemingly important details that go by very quickly in this section (in particular, the explanation of trilithium), so it can be difficult for even a seasoned Trek fan to keep up—and good luck to the neophytes who are drowning in technobabble.
Then Data's subplot goes into full swing. To be fair, Data's subplot is arguably the best part of the movie—it's extremely entertaining, highly memorable and quotable, and crucial to Data's character development. The only part I outright dislike about it is that my favorite character (Geordi) gets captured (a trope I'm tired of seeing in Star Trek) and tortured (which is hard enough to watch without it being your favorite character) because of Data's inability to act (another trope I could do without), but at least the situation stays focused enough on the characters to stave off any feelings of contrivance. Still, I have to wonder whether Data's subplot should have waited for a movie like Insurrection, where the main conflict is less urgent and the B-story is all about the heroes on a personal level. Generations already has a lot going on, and we haven't even gotten to Picard's family, the Duras sisters, or the Nexus itself. Every story the movie tries to tell is a story worth telling, but it weakens the movie as a whole to try to tell them all at once.
Part of the problem is the sheer number of characters vying for an equal share of the story. One of TNG's strengths is that it's an ensemble show where everyone gets a chance to shine, but even then, most episodes only focus on two or three characters. Generations is a Data story, and a Picard story, and a Kirk story, and sort of a Guinan story, and sort of a Geordi story, and a story about a trio of villains (Soran, Lursa, and B'Etor), with several other noteworthy characters in tow. First Contact gets around the problem of too many characters by splitting them into two main groups, one for the A-story and one for the related B-story. Generations cycles through several combinations of characters and pushes multiple storylines forward at once, and it's a little overwhelming.
Fortunately, once the major story components settle into place, we have a clear A-story (thwarting Soran's plan to re-enter the Nexus), a clear B-story (Data coming to grips with his new emotions), and a clear C-story (dealing with the Duras sisters). Unfortunately, because of how long it takes for the components to settle, the A- and C-stories don't get the kind of development they deserve.
First, the C-story. In The Wrath of Khan, you've got a villain who was already introduced in a TV episode, yet the movie takes the time to develop Khan as a brand-new character; having seen "Space Seed" just gives him more depth. The Duras sisters don't really get that development in Generations; once again, you need to have seen a few episodes of TNG to appreciate who they are and what they want. Without fleshing (or re-fleshing) them out, they're less like criminal masterminds and more like hired muscle, which cheapens the destruction of the Enterprise-D somewhat. It's a little inelegant for Soran's goons to be the ones to blow up a ship that seven seasons of constant danger couldn't defeat.
Still, as with Kirk's demise on the Enterprise-B, the death of this beloved starship is handled with respect. There's a feeling of controlled chaos that intensifies the impact of the evacuation sequence; we have time to process the inevitability of what's about to happen and can start saying our goodbyes. We get one last glimpse of a few iconic locations on the ship that we'll never see again. There's the extra emotional punch of being reminded that there are families on this ship, and their home is about to burn up—as simple as it is, the moment where the teddy bear gets left behind is powerfully heartbreaking to me. The ship's signature gimmick, the saucer separation, is put to its best use yet. When the saucer section hits the ground, it hurts, and the viewer is as stunned as the crew that this really happened, and that somehow they're still in one piece. Awesome stuff.
Then there's the A-story. Now, it seems to me that there's a pretty big plot hole underlying Soran's plan: if he first experienced the Nexus because his ship got too close to the energy ribbon, why go to all the trouble of blowing up half a solar system when he could just grab a shuttle and fly into the Nexus again? ("Believe me, this is the only [way]" is an insufficient explanation, but better than nothing.) Moreover, we never get a full appreciation of why Soran is so obsessed with getting back to the Nexus. Picard's there for, like, ten minutes, and it's nice and all, but he hardly has to struggle to break away from it. Kirk (surprise! Kirk's not really dead!) is decidedly more invested in the life the Nexus has to offer, but as soon as he gets the sense that it isn't real, he's ready to move on as well. Enough verbal and visual information is given about the Nexus for me to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the movie, but without seeing what Soran has been through, he comes off as a garden-variety madman. I want a flashback to the failed experiments that drove him to such an extreme solution for re-entering the Nexus. I want a vision of the paradise he briefly experienced, or of the life he lost at the hands of the Borg—preferably the latter, because that would further develop El-Aurian culture as well. Come to think of it, Soran's El-Aurian heritage is squandered a little; I wish it had informed his character more. (eg, "Do you like stories, Captain? My people have always been storytellers. I used to send my children to sleep with tales I'd heard from across the galaxy, marvelous stories of heroes and villains, stories to make them laugh and dream and aspire to great things. Inevitably, my children would ask for one more story, but there comes a time when the stories must end, the lights must go out, and the listener must accept the silence and the darkness and let sleep come to claim them. Where I'm headed, Captain, there will always be time to tell my children one more story. There will be no silence or darkness to accept; no Borg to turn off the light and claim my family.")
...But I digress. Soran has some great lines, and Malcolm McDowell's performance makes the character compelling, but I need more than what the movie gives me to fully accept that this is a villain worth sacrificing both James T. Kirk and the Enterprise-D to stop.
Of course, no discussion of Generations would be complete without a discussion of Kirk's rather unceremonious demise on Veridian III. Although getting to see Kirk and Picard interact with each other is a major selling point of the movie (and, once again, the dialogue is a highlight), Kirk's role at the very end of the movie could have been filled by pretty much anyone. On the plus side, Kirk does get to have one last hand-to-hand combat, but this is less of a "Jim Kirk is the only man for the job" situation and more of a "Jim Kirk is the only man available for the job" situation. Allowing his cause of death to be "rickety bridge" just makes it worse. What softens the blow is that, as far as I'm concerned, Kirk already died a hero's death at the beginning of the movie. He's been living on borrowed time since then. How he dies "for real" isn't as important as the fact that we get to spend a little more time with a character whose story ended several decades before. And you know what? If the movie had cut out one or two story threads, there probably would have been enough time to play up the teamwork between Kirk and Picard even more, and we would've gotten a story that ends more like "Relics" than "Skin of Evil".
In the end, Generations is too ambitious to be the outstanding movie it could have been, but the good parts are too numerous and strong to let the not-so-good parts completely overshadow them. The character interactions are believable and memorable, yielding a few of my all-time favorite Trek moments (specifically, the banter between Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov; Data sampling the drink in Ten-Forward; Data singing about scanning for life forms; and Kirk trying to make breakfast while Picard lectures at him about the fate of the universe). Similarly, crashing the Enterprise-D stands out to me as one of the most thrilling, gut-wrenching, and impactful action sequences in any Trek (and I give the movie bonus points for Geordi owning that crisis) We get to see the culmination of Data's quest to become human, Picard opening up about his family, Guinan being even more mystical than usual, two iconic captains meeting for the first time, and the brand-new (and super-cool) Stellar Cartography. There's some truly inspirational music in the soundtrack, and there's a strong sense of theming throughout much of the story. There are a few story threads too many, making the story a little hard to follow at first (particularly if you're new to Star Trek) and somewhat underdeveloped in places (particularly where the A-story is concerned). For as funny and inspirational as the movie gets, the tragic elements continually pull down the mood—Kirk dies (twice!), the Enterprise-D gets blown up, Geordi gets kidnapped and tortured, Picard's family dies in a fire, and Data even gets in trouble for trying to lighten the mood. If the intent was to make the viewer as emotionally overwhelmed as Data, the movie certainly accomplishes that. And strictly as a matter of personal preference, I tend to like a little more escapism in my Star Trek, and what we see inside the Nexus looks an awful lot like modern-day real life.
Generations is really a second series finale for TNG. It spends more time pulling on old story threads than creating new ones, and there's more of a sense of closure than of new beginnings. It's a fine farewell to the TV series, but it's bittersweet (and more bitter than sweet), which makes it all the harder to watch after the uplifting "All Good Things...". Generations is a welcome encore that does a lot of things right, but it's not entirely the transition to the big screen that I was hoping for.
