#i already liked his character when he was just a crewman boss

[comicbookuniversity]

How Black Lagoon Begins Attacking Gender Norms

by Bunnypwn Gold

Rei Hiroe’s Black Lagoon is one of the most intelligent, fun, and kinetic action-crime dramas around. The entire series looks and feels like an action movie; even the way it’s structured feels more akin to a series of movies, with different self-contained arcs building off of the previous installments. While many action movies include philosophical elements and dialogue in an attempt to make the festival of blood and explosions seem more intelligent without exploring the issues, Black Lagoon actively builds its themes and the substance of its plot and character arcs around its stellar action-hero philosophy quotes. One of its strongest points is how integral all the characters’ social identities are to the way the story is told. Chief among these is the way gender is explored and examined. Looking through the first five stories of the series, a powerful message about breaking out of the toxic gender binary is developed, creating an argument that drives the rest of the series. This argument is never made explicitly, but instead through the pattern of behaviors exhibited by Japanese salaryman Rock, as the feminine, and hotshot gunslinger Revy, as the masculine.

For anyone who has not read the series, a little catch-up is in order. At the beginning, Okajima Rokuro, a generic Japanese salaryman, is kidnapped by Revy, the gunhand of Lagoon Traders, a company of underworld couriers. Rokuro was in possession of a disc the Lagoon Traders were hired to steal, and Revy wanted to sweeten the pay with some ransom. During a shootout with mercenaries hired by Rokuro’s company and a chase to certain death, Rokuro goes from wanting to return to his ordinary life, to finding out his bosses are planning to let him die, and finally to diving into the underworld as a crewman aboard the Black Lagoon, taking up the nickname Rock. He then spends the first few stories of the series being taught how to perform basic duties and tasks aboard the torpedo boat by Revy until they have a falling out and make up after a dramatic argument. It is this series of events that sets up the larger dialogue on gender in the rest of the series.  

In an interview published for Sunday GX magazine and printed in volume 8, series author Rei Hiroe and Gen Urobuchi, author of the Black Lagoon novelization, discuss their views on gender in light of the series’ myriad badass women. In it, Urobuchi is quoted as saying,

“I naturally have this idea that women are strong or tough. Like men are just male bees—creatures that should die after they ejaculate…In that sense men are weak. Whereas the battle begins for women once they get pregnant…Women have to keep fighting. I don’t see that kind of strength as cute. I can’t dote on it.”

Later on, when discussing the final scene of The Wild Bunch, in which the heroic cowboys go off to their deaths trying to save their friends, Hiroe and Urobuchi have the following exchange:

Hiroe: “They’re already dead at that point. That’s what’s so cool. They have no intention of getting out alive.”

Urobuchi: “That’s really the only moment men can compete with women, I think. There’d have to be a third world war for men to shine. Like a Mad Max type of world. Maybe only when there’s a real danger of extinction will men have a role. Right now this society could exist only with women.”

This lays out the core of the series’ argument about gender: women are strong because they fight to live and make life, whereas men place all their value on their own deaths and the deaths of others, and the current gender binary denies women their strength and forces them into submission with the violence of death-based masculinity. This is somewhat familiar, since associations between the genders and life and death in this vein are common across cultures. What is particularly instructive for how the series is constructed is how the machismo, male-dominant view of gender is embedded in action movies, particularly cowboy movies. For anyone who has read Black Lagoon, it’s clear how powerful an influence cowboy and other action movies have on the series.

Rock spent his life as a low-level employee in a large Japanese company. Like most companies around the world, large Japanese corporations like the one Rock worked for are male-dominated and are typified by traditional ideals of masculinity, with the CEO and board of directors, among others, working in the role of powerful, great men, and everyone under them working their way closer to that great ideal of manhood. Rock, being so low in the company, is far from manhood, in that sense; he describes his job as mostly consisting of bowing to superiors, and his general conciliatory, subservient attitude throughout the early part of the series can easily be read as traditionally feminine. From that perspective, his time at that company can be read as emasculating (for more on the idea of emasculating corporate culture and men trying to take back their manhood with violence, see Fight Club). Rock even reveals that he would blow off steam at a batting cage, which is a notably phallic activity, with bats and balls, and, being a sport-based hobby, is more traditionally masculine by nature; in a sense, after constantly kissing ass and being forced to get drunk to keep his bosses happy, he recharged his masculinity by knocking his stress into the far end of the cage.

Revy, on the other hand, fits perfectly into macho-violent cowboy movie masculinity during the first set of stories. If she had been replaced by a man, then superficially the story could have been told the same way, with the only difference being that Rock would likely have been a little less shocked to see Two Hand smile while he killed all those mercenaries. She’s short-tempered, mean, constantly looks out for herself before anyone else, and is just so indignant that she has to take orders from anyone. She’s greedy and aggressive and takes great joy in both risking her life and taking the lives of others. Throughout the first few stories, Revy often complains that every little thing Rock does wrong costs her money, and she’s not particularly generous with her own. Though she continues this throughout the rest of the series, and so it isn’t specific to this period, the fact that Revy is most often seen in her downtime looking at porno magazines promising the largest-breasted women around drives home the kind of macho, hypermasculine role she fills. We later learn that she grew up on the streets of NYC, having to run from street criminals and violent police officers. She would take up the gun at age 11 and begin emulating the only kind of power she knew up to that point: the violent men who terrorized her. Her worldview is defined by this dog-eat-dog attitude, with people being nothing more than dead bodies waiting to happen and profit from. She’s so scared of showing vulnerability and anything that could be seen as feminine because the last time she was vulnerable and feminine, she was nearly killed in the gutter by dirty cops.

The pilot chapter of the series sets out to demonstrate the gendered positions of Rock and Revy. Revy starts off the chapter by messing up her boss Dutch’s plan by kidnapping Rock for extra cash. She is then indignant when Dutch reprimands her for this, because she was trying to take initiative and be independent, masculine qualities often praised at companies such as the one Rock worked for. Rock spends all his time whining, or as Revy calls it, “bitching,” about what’s going on, being very demanding, and wanting everyone to take care of everything for him, all of which puts him in a stereotypically feminine role, and a negative one at that. At the bar, Revy belittles Rock’s manhood for drinking beer, saying rum “is what a real man drinks,” and ends up in a drinking contest, because Rock has to prove he’s a man despite his feminine role and Revy, as a “real man,” can’t back down. Revy then demonstrates her penchant for and love of violence as she kills a bunch of the EO mercenaries hired by Rock’s company to kill them and retrieve the disc, just living her best life. The turn for Rock in this chapter is when he talks to his boss and finds out he plans to let Rock die; the company leaders will reward his death with their presence at his funeral, showing the masculine value of death and the power of the executives’ masculinity that their presence is meant to be that great a reward. As the mercenaries chase the Lagoon into the straits, Revy demonstrates her masculine lack of regard for her own life by nonchalantly resigning herself to death. Rock, on the other hand, embraces the opportunity to take up the masculinity his company denied him by devising an insane plan to win the day. After coming out on top and choosing to join the Lagoon, however, that masculinity starts to change for Rock. By choosing to join the Lagoon, Rock was choosing that as his way of life, not simply the place he was willing to die. For Revy’s part, it’s easy to read the way she relishes her part in Rock’s plan as a cowboy choosing to die how she lived, but it can also be read as her accepting a way to fight to stay alive in the way she sees best, which is itself an important turn for Revy. These points are developed further in the rest of the opening of the series.

Throughout the next four stories, Rock remains at the low end of the totem pole, still receiving his training and unsure of how he will actually make his living on the Lagoon, placing him in a similarly feminine position as he was in as the errand boy in a large corporation. Revy emphasizes this with her masculine sense of inherent authority, constantly bossing Rock around and belittling him for failing to learn sailing knots faster or not checking his scuba gear thoroughly. Revy also buys Rock a Hawaiian shirt, which is never seen because Rock refuses to wear it. While buying clothes for a man may be seen as feminine, it more resembles Revy trying to institute a work uniform, since she got it to replace the semi-formal work clothes Rock still wears; it should be noted that Benny, the Lagoon’s engineer and another man who takes a passive position in the crew, wears a Hawaiian shirt. Revy’s masculine position is further solidified in Ring-Ding Ship Chase, the second story, when she single-handedly took out several motorboats filled with heavily-armed men and mounted with machine guns. Rasta-Blasta, the third story, pushes in another direction, with Revy taking a masculine approach to watching over Garcia, the young boy they’re transporting for sale, by threatening to beat and kill him when he won’t comply with orders. Revy’s role can be read as either paternal disciplinarian or like a cowboy angry because kids, which she never wanted, cramp her style. Rock takes on the maternal role in how he deals with Garcia in that story, being more gentle and nurturing. Later on, Rock tries to stop Revy and ass-kicking terrorist-turned-maid Roberta from fighting to the death partly in an attempt to protect them as women, because he still thinks like how things work in Japan. But of course, Revy has to fight Roberta, because, as a “real man,” she can’t stop before things are settled.

Die Rückkehr des Alders, the fourth story, represents the major turning point in this opening arc. During their mission to salvage a Nazi painting from a sunken German sub, Revy leaves Rock behind for a moment to take medals and things from the dead soldiers so she can make a little extra money on the side. Rock takes a stand, saying she should leave them behind. While taking a stand can be read as masculine, Rock does so in defense of what the medals meant to the soldiers, and how those sentiments are more valuable than whatever money can be made from them, essentially taking a feminine position in support of life and love. The fact that Rock backs down by the end is what really does in any hope of this being a masculine moment for Rock. Revy, on the other hand, lays out the bare bones of her cowboy “we’re dead men walking” mentality, pushing herself further into the macho corner. Here is where she reveals what her childhood was like and argues that the bones in the sub and the medals were essentially the same: just things. There’s no value in things like sentiment, which people build lives around. She’s literally placing monetary value on the deaths of Nazi soldiers, the starkest version of her masculinity. She continues when raiding the neo-Nazi ship by killing everyone she sees, including the hired staff who were unaffiliated with the neo-Nazis. When she kills them, she doesn’t have her usual smile, a sign of how her desire to remain in this powerful role is stressing her, how it’s not really bringing her a happy life.

The big conclusion happens in the follow-up story Calm Down Two Men, which sees Revy and Rock going on a simple errand run and then getting lunch. During the errand run, both demonstrate their typical patterns of behavior. Rock is more submissive, just trying to get along, and Revy is aggressive and angry, using violence as her way of handling business. Their roles here play out fine enough with the first two errands, but Revy nearly gets them into a shootout at the Rip-Off Church before Rock saves the day with some diplomacy. Revy is put on edge as Sister Yolanda tells Revy to learn from Rock, which would disrupt her status and position in multiple ways. At lunch, they get into an argument which ultimately dispels the tension left between them after their time in the sub. It is instigated by Rock, who is taking a stand for his principles, a stand that demonstrates his new masculinity. Revy tries to take control back quickly by threatening to shoot Rock dead, since she refuses to be put onto the defensive, which she would interpret as a weak, vulnerable feminine position. Rock redirects the gun and later takes a punch without flinching to show that he can’t be stopped with violence. Rock speaks here about how he got by at work before, and how Revy inspired him by showing how much more he could have in life. This scares Revy, putting her on the defensive, to hear someone demonstrate how hollow and insignificant the power she was wielding truly was. Eventually, Revy sees that Rock is actually offering her something more powerful in exchange and takes him up on it. To sum up Rock’s offer, “Well, if there aren’t any Robin Hoods…then BE a Robin Hood,” meaning take a stand for the principles you want to uphold in life. Before the chapter is out, Revy asks Rock if he’s with her or against her, just like in the sub, in an attempt to place her new path near her familiar ground. Rock doesn’t allow her that simplicity.

In this way, the two switch places in their gender roles by the conclusion of this opening arc, but do so in a way that breaks them free from the stereotypical gender binary. Just as Urobuchi put it, Rock has fully formed his new, life-affirming masculinity by the end of the argument, while Revy is only just starting to chart the course of her new, powerful femininity; to complete the parallel to sex described by Urobuchi, Revy and Rock smoke after their fight and “kiss” their cigarettes to light Revy’s. The argument fully demonstrates how the old gender binary our heroes left behind was damaging to each of them, with Rock left emasculated and, more importantly, unable to live life his own way because of how he always came up short of expectations, and Revy being a tightly-wound ball of self-destructive anger and violence doomed to leave this world without having really gotten anything out of it. Overall, it’s a clever, subtle, and effective way to demonstrate why traditional gender roles are harmful and degrading to all involved. While, as a nonbinary person, I have to point out it still is based on a binary view of gender, it’s still an interesting way to demonstrate how breaking free from the traditional gender binary is empowering and can redefine the course of a person’s life for the better.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.15: Shore Leave

AKA Rabbits and Pistols and Women, Oh My 

Our episode begins on the bridge, where Kirk is looking over a pad with a yeoman while awaiting a report from a landing party. He gets a kink in his back, so the yeoman starts giving him a backrub, but since both she and Spock are standing behind Kirk he doesn’t realize who is giving him the backrub. This results in quite possibly one of the most infamous lines in all of Star Trek.

[ID: Kirk sitting in his chair on the bridge, his back being rubbed by a brown-haired yeoman, caught in a moment of realization as he says, “Dig it in there, Mr. Sp--” and sees Spock walking past him.]

As everyone does their best to pretend that didn’t just happen, the yeoman says that Kirk needs sleep. Kirk replies that he gets enough of that from McCoy. Presumably he means that McCoy has been telling him that he needs to sleep, and not that McCoy is somehow giving him sleep, although really, anything’s possible. Spock says McCoy is right—wow, get that one on tape—Kirk and everyone onboard need rest after what they’ve been through the past three months. (Exactly what that is is left to the imagination.) Everyone except Spock, of course. He’s fine. He’s always fine. Evidently Kirk is too tired to bother putting up a fight about this, because he tells Uhura to send the landing party report to his quarters and staggers off the bridge.

We then see said landing party down on the nearby planet, which is so unbelievably lush and green that it has actual trees and grass instead of a soundstage with some foliage stuck on.

[ID: McCoy and Sulu walking down a sunlit grassy lane with trees to the right and tall plants at the edge of a pond to the left.]

McCoy and Sulu are naturally quite awed at this incredible beauty. Sulu says that it has no people and no animals, making it perfect for relaxation. No animals? Wow, that must be a really interesting ecosystem—how did a whole planet evolve with no animal life, while still resembling Earth so closely? The plants would have to have evolved unique mechanisms for reproduction without animal life to help pollinate them, not to mention the effect that no herbivorous consumption would have and—right, sorry. No animals means a good vacation! That’s the important thing. I guess.

Anyway, McCoy thinks the planet is just the place for some relaxation time for the crew, if they can get Kirk to authorize shore leave there. It does seem like a nice place to chill out after a lot of stress, but I question the Starfleet policy of letting crews take shore leave on random newly discovered planets as long as they don’t appear to have sapient native life as determined by some people wandering around on a small portion of it for a few hours. There could be plenty of threats there that they just haven’t uncovered—or, on the flipside, a whole crew full of people beaming down to loiter around could wreck havoc on an alien ecosystem. But, eh, it’s just plants, it’ll be fine.

McCoy comments that “you have to see this place to believe it—it’s like something out of Alice in Wonderland.” Bones, my man, I don’t know what copy of Alice in Wonderland you read, but I don’t remember its primary feature being nice-but-totally-normal-and-physics-obeying parkland.

Sulu stops to get some samples of the plant life, while McCoy wanders off happily, obviously enjoying the chance to just have a nice stroll through nature and chew on a stalk of grass. That is, until he spots something...unexpected.

[ID: A large humanoid white rabbit standing among the foliage, wearing a checked red and yellow shirt, yellow waistcoat, and brown and gray neckcloth, with an umbrella tucked under one arm.]

The rabbit exclaims that he’ll be late and hops (sort off) off through the undergrowth. A moment later a young girl in a blue and white dress runs up and asks McCoy if he’s seen a rabbit around. All poor Bones can do is point mutely in the direction the rabbit went, and the girl gives him a curtsy and runs after the rabbit.

McCoy stands there in abject shock for a moment before managing to bellow for Sulu, who comes running. Despite being only a few yards away, Sulu was evidently too absorbed with horticulture to notice any of what just happened, and there’s now no sign of either rabbit or girl. He asks McCoy what’s wrong, but McCoy can’t seem to find the words, and really, can you blame him?

[ID: McCoy standing by the edge of a pond, holding a grass straw tensely and staring in front of him while Sulu puts a hand on his shoulder and asks, “What is it, doc?”]

“Oh god, this is it. I knew this job was going to drive me insane and it’s FINALLY HAPPENED.”

After the break we get a captain’s log from Kirk talking about how nice this planet they found is. You can tell he’s tired and kind of out of it from the way he rambles a bit, and takes a moment to remember the entire stardate. Despite this, the yeoman currently talking to him in his room notes that he isn’t in any of the shore leave parties. Kirk waves this off and dismisses her, but this does nothing for Kirk’s solitude because she is immediately replaced by Spock.

Kirk asks Spock which shore leave party he wants to go with, but Spock says he’s not interested in going at all. On Vulcan, he says, “to rest is to rest, to cease using energy. To me, it is quite illogical to run up and down on green grass using energy instead of saving it.” Well, it would be. Your planet doesn’t have any green grass. The idea of going outside to relax probably would be pretty foreign on Vulcan, which is generally rather lacking in environments that anyone would consider relaxing.

The conversation is interrupted by Uhura paging Kirk to say there’s a call from McCoy. Kirk genially tells her to open a channel, little suspecting what this conversation is going to be about.

McCoy—remarkably calmly—says that either all their sensor probes are defective, or he is. Kirk naturally asks him to explain, leaving McCoy in the unenviable position of having to describe what he just saw. Kirk takes the whole story to be a joke, while Spock stands there rolling his eyes to the heavens. It’s understandable enough; even for people with as many weird experiences as these guys, giant talking rabbits aren’t something you expect to encounter, although I have heard that they appear here and there, now and then, to this one and that one.

Kirk figures that this is a trick of McCoy’s to get him to come down to the planet—that he doesn’t think Kirk will come down for shore leave unless he’s baited with a bit of mystery. Which doesn’t sound terribly like McCoy, I have to say. He seems less likely to make up a weird story about a rabbit as part of a cunning plan to lure Kirk into shore leave, and more likely to just physically drag him down to the planet by the ear.

Spock, evidently deciding not to get involved in these weird human things, says that actually he did have something he came here to discuss. He’s checked Dr. McCoy’s log—pre-rabbit sightings—and apparently there’s a crew member aboard who’s being a bit of a problem.

“[He’s] showing signs of stress and fatigue, reaction time down nine to twelve percent, associational reading norm minus three.”

“That’s much too low a rating.”

“He’s becoming irritable and quarrelsome, yet he refuses to take rest and rehabilitation. Now he has that right, but we’ve found--”

“A crewman’s right ends where the safety of the ship begins. Now, that man will go ashore on my orders. What’s his name?”

“James Kirk.”

[ID: 1. Spock looking at Kirk with a look of mock surprise and innocence while saying, “James Kirk.” 2. Kirk stares back at Spock. 3. Spock saying, “Enjoy yourself, Captain,” with a decidedly smug smile. 4. Kirk staring at Spock, now with a GTA-style overlay saying ‘wasted’.]

Weeeeelll, there’s not a whole lot Kirk can do about that devastating takedown except swallow the pill and go take some shore leave already. Spock tells him that they’ve detected no animals, no artifacts, no force fields (? was that a potential problem?), it’s just a nice pleasant green planet. But even as he’s saying this we see, down on said pleasant green planet, a rock by a pond slowly move aside on its own to reveal….A GUN! No, not a phaser—an actual, old-fashioned revolver. Dammit! The NRA got here before us!

Unknowing of the terrible threat looming nearby, a couple of crewmen—a goldshirt woman and a blueshirt man—are investigating some of the plant life. The blueshirt is intent on scanning some ferns, prompting a complaint from the goldshirt that he’s too focused on work, work, work, and not appreciating the natural loveliness all around them. The blueshirt responds that he’s focused on work because they’re working—they’ve got a report to make to the captain and things aren’t going to be nearly so pleasant if it’s not ready on time. Right after he says that, who should beam down but Kirk himself, along with the yeoman. Oh man, speak of the devil. Don’t you hate it when you’re talking about your boss and he immediately materializes out of thin air in front of you?

Luckily for the crewmen—Rodriguez and Teller, Kirk calls them—he’s not here to crack the whip. Told that they’ve finished the survey, he tells them to submit it to Spock and then clock out and enjoy themselves. Incidentally, Kirk calls the goldshirt Teller, but she’s played by the same actress who played Martine last episode. The character was named ‘Mary Teller’ in the script, but once they got on set someone noticed that they had—again, somehow—accidentally cast someone who had already appeared as a named character, and changed her first name to Angela to match Martine...but as you can see, it’s a bit inconsistent. And a bit jarring, if she is the same character, to see her so bright and happy and with budding romantic tension between her and Rodriguez, considering what happened to her last week. It worked out pretty well when they did this with Riley, but this time, not so much.

At any rate, Rodriguez points Kirk over to where Sulu and McCoy were. Kirk and the yeoman head over there, talking a bit about how incredibly beautiful the surroundings are. The amount that this planet gets talked up in the episode initially struck me as a bit odd; don’t get me wrong, it’s quite nice and pretty, but I don’t think I would call it jaw-droppingly, impossibly gorgeous. But then, y’know, I see trees everyday. I can see trees right now just by turning my head about ninety degrees. If I spent the majority of my life in a spaceship, seeing the same gray, florescent-lit surroundings every day, breathing in sterilized air and rarely seeing any space more open than Engineering, I’d probably be awestruck at the first bit of green I saw in months too.  

The captain and the yeoman find McCoy some way away, still standing by the pond and brooding over his sanity. Kirk is all ready to set into some teasing about rabbits and the sighting thereof, but while McCoy is still not entirely sure he didn’t hallucinate the whole thing, he’s got at least one thing a bit less easy to dismiss: large footprints in the dirt nearby.

[ID: Kirk kneeling in a dirt track, examining two sets of four-toed footprints.]

Those don’t look a great deal like rabbit tracks, but then, that didn’t look a great deal like an actual rabbit either. Kirk is, reasonably enough, not quite ready to commit to giant talking rabbits yet, but evidently something is going on here, so he calls up to the ship and tells the shore leave parties to stand by and not leave the ship. Right when they were about to disembark, too. You could probably hear the collective groan clear on the other side of the ship.

McCoy expresses some surprise at Kirk suspending the leave, since after all it’s only a giant talking rabbit that came from nowhere, what’s worrying about that? Kirk asks if McCoy can explain this whole business and McCoy has to admit that he can’t, and since neither can Kirk, he’s erring on the side of caution and not bringing the entire crew planetside until they figure out for sure that whatever’s going on isn’t dangerous. It’s probably not dangerous, but then again most people would say a quick checkup for a couple of isolated archaeologists probably wasn’t dangerous. A socially stunted teenage boy probably wasn’t dangerous. Someone beaming up with a bit of glittery space dirt on them probably wasn’t—you get my drift.

So nobody’s getting their vacation until Kirk gets some answers, but before they can start working on that there’s a sudden explosion of noise—gunshots. Which I don’t expect people from the twenty-third century could readily identify, but it’s obviously a big scary dangerous-sounding noise, so everyone takes off at a run to go see what’s going on.

What’s going on turns out to be...Sulu, standing in a clearing and happily firing off the revolver we saw earlier. Naturally Kirk is all “wtf, Mr. Sulu” and Sulu cheerfully explains that look! it’s a gun! isn’t it cool??? Apparently antique gun collecting is one of Sulu’s many side hobbies, and this one is a really cool old super rare gun that he’s been wanting for ages, which he just happened to find laying under a rock nearby. He seems weirdly unperturbed by a centuries-old Earth weapon—let alone the specific centuries-old Earth weapon that he just happened to want—turning up on a newly discovered, uninhabited and definitely non-Earth planet. Also, apparently Sulu’s interest in guns did not at any point include an accompanying interest in gun safety, since he thought it was a good idea to just start firing the thing off randomly for kicks.

Kirk puts his hand out and gives Sulu a stern “hand over the toy, young man” expression, and Sulu reluctantly gives it up. He tries to explain to Kirk how the gun works, but fails to mention the part about how you really shouldn’t just stick a loaded gun straight into your belt unless you want to shoot yourself in the leg, so naturally Kirk does exactly that.

Well at any rate, that confirms that there’s more going on here than one brief localized hallucination. Speaking of which, Yeoman Barrows suddenly spots more of the strange tracks they saw earlier, running right past them. Kirk orders Sulu to take Barrows and follow the new tracks AND NO MORE SHOOTING THINGS. Meanwhile, he and McCoy are going back to the glade to investigate the original set of tracks. Frankly I’m not sure how useful ‘the glade’ is as a place name on a planet that seems to consist of nothing but glades, but that seems to be what Kirk is going with. As the captain and the doctor head off, we see a strange antennae rise from the rocks and turn towards them.

Kirk and McCoy walk back to The Glade, chatting about how strange and obnoxious this whole situation is—can’t even go down for a spot of fresh air and sunshine without weird shit happening. Still, McCoy says, it could have been worse—Kirk could have been the one who saw the rabbit. At that Kirk laughs and asks McCoy if he’s feeling a bit picked on about all this, and McCoy admits that yeah, just because you know exactly what’s going to happen when you tell someone you saw a giant humanoid talking rabbit doesn’t make it fun.

Kirk says that he knows what it feels like because he got picked on a lot back at the Academy, though presumably not for rabbit-related reasons. Evidently, as he himself freely owns up to, Kirk was not just a serious student but a “positively grim” one, which made him an easy target for inter-student-body trolling. That Kirk was especially studious and strait-laced in his academic years is an aspect of his character that’s consistent throughout TOS (remember Mitchell’s remarks about Kirk being a “stack of books with legs”), but it’s one that seems to be easily forgotten about in favor of the assumption that Kirk must have been a wild, rule-breaking, carefree kind of student more interested in having dorm room hookups than passing tests. I’m just sayin’. Take notes.

At any rate, Kirk relates how there was one particular upperclassman named Finnegan who took special delight in taunting and pranking him—putting soup in his bed or a bucket of water on the top of a door. Which, honestly, as far as college pranks go that’s pretty lacking in creativity, but it clearly got to Kirk as evidenced by the fact that he’s still kinda sore about it some fifteen years later.

In the midst of all this reminiscing, they notice a new set of tracks—young girl tracks. Or, well, not that there’s anything about them that specifically says ‘young girl’, but since McCoy saw a young girl in the vicinity of the rabbit we can make a safe assumption. Kirk decides to split up; he’ll follow the Alice tracks, and McCoy can follow the rabbit tracks. McCoy’s amenable to this.

[ID: McCoy saying, “I got a personal grudge against that rabbit, Jim,” with a broad grin.]

Kirk hasn’t been alone for very long, though, when he hears a voice calling, “Jim!” He turns—and there, leaning against a nearby tree, is a young man wearing a silver shirt and an insufferable expression, accompanied, as all Irish people are legally obligated to be, by cheerful jig music. It is, or appears to be, Finnegan himself, in the flesh and just as fresh and smirking as he was at the Academy-- something he demonstrates by grasping Kirk’s shoulders in a brotherly fashion before walloping him with a punch that sends Kirk head over heels into the grass. As Kirk lays there stunned, Finnegan dances around laughing like a hyena and taunting Kirk to get up and fight back.

Now, Kirk, of course, is no longer an Academy freshman, but a decorated starship captain with ample experience in dealing with highly unusual circumstances and keeping his head in times of stress, so naturally his measured response to this impossible situation is to stay calm and evaluate what could be causing this and how dangerous—only joking, he gets up and charges at Finnegan with clear intent to strangle the bastard. I can’t really blame him, though. They cast Finnegan to perfection; the actor does a really good job at being an annoying little shit.

Before the fight can really get going, though, a sudden noise cuts across the clearing. Not gunshots, this time, but a terrified scream. Kirk immediately takes off in the direction of the sound, leaving Finnegan behind to jeer at Kirk for running from a fight.

As Kirk pelts across the grass he’s joined by McCoy, also running to see what’s going on. The two of them track the noise down to Barrows, sobbing and gasping on the ground next to a tree with her uniform all torn away from the collar on one shoulder, a rare case of the fragility of Starfleet uniforms being a problem for someone other than Kirk. And honestly I’d say Barrows gets a worse deal out of it, since the female crewmembers have so much less uniform to lose in the first place. Poor yeoman doesn’t get an undershirt, either, or, apparently, even a bra with straps.

Barrows says, rather frantically, that she was just walking along when suddenly “he” appeared—a man in a cloak with a jeweled dagger. Kirk asks if she’s sure she’s not imagining all this. That’s pretty damn rich from a man who was fistfighting his inexplicably appearing college rival a couple minutes ago. What, does he think Barrows imagined this so hard it ripped her uniform?

She gets rather rightfully pissed and tells Kirk that no, she did not dream up being attacked, you jerk. McCoy comments that the man she’s describing sounds like Don Juan. Which is quite a leap since all he has to go on is “cloak and jeweled dagger,” which could potentially describe an incredible amount of characters. Hell, that could be Barrows’s D&D character. But no, apparently McCoy got it in one, because Barrows says that actually, as she was walking through the woods, “it was so sort of storybook...I was thinking, all a girl needs is...Don Juan.”

Really? I mean, I don’t mean to judge anyone else’s romantic fantasies. But, well, I could see walking through some beautiful woods and thinking the scene just needed a charming prince or maybe a unicorn or something. Not so much, “gee, it’s so beautiful around here, all a girl needs is to be violently assaulted by a fictional character legendary for being a womanizing sleaze.”

Well, anyway, that was weird. Hey, come to think of it, where’s Sulu? Shouldn’t he be around here somewhere? Barrows says that he ran after the cloaked fellow. Oh dear. New plan: Kirk tells McCoy to stay with Barrows while he goes to look for Sulu. As Kirk runs off, the mysterious aerial appears again, seemingly tracking him, but it goes unnoticed by everyone.

Kirk soon finds himself leaving the trees and meadows and jogging out into a rocky, desert-like area. It’s still pretty out there, though, with some wildflowers growing around, which Kirk stops to admire. Kirk. Kirk, buddy, I like flowers too, but you’ve got a crewman potentially in danger here. Maybe we could enjoy the foliage later.

A moment later, though, Kirk spots something a lot more distracting than a pretty flower: a pretty woman!

[ID: A white woman with blonde hair braided in a ring around her head, wearing a dress which is half white and half black with a pink flower design on the black half, standing in front of a cliffside surrounded by plants.]

Kirk stares in stunned rapture as the woman approaches. This is not just any woman; this is, judging by Kirk’s disbelieving murmur of, “Ruth…?” someone he knows, or knew. Random woman that Kirk knows who we’ve never heard of before? Gee, I wonder what connection he could possibly have to her. I’m going to guess she’s not his aunt.

“It is me, Jim darling, it is Ruth,” the woman says, and moves in to rub against Kirk’s cheek. Well, that’s an upgrade from Finnegan at any rate.

After the break Kirk gives a rather distracted captain’s log: still investigating this weird planet, lost a crewman but found a woman so it evens out. With a last vestige of professionalism he attempts to call McCoy, but the communicator isn’t working. Kirk is exactly as bothered by this as you would expect someone to be whose phone just broke right when they needed to call someone but really didn’t want to.

Anyway, back to more important matters: “How can it really be you, Ruth?” Kirk says it’s been fifteen years, but she hasn’t aged a day. He really seems quite emotional about all this. Kirk’s always courteous to the girls of his past, but he doesn’t usually get this worked up about seeing them again. Ruth must have been someone really special to him.

Sadly, the dreamy romantic atmosphere can only last so long before it gets shattered by reality, in the form of a communicator chirp, specifically. It’s McCoy, wanting to know if Kirk’s having any luck finding Sulu. You know? Sulu? Your crewman that you’re supposed to be looking for? Might be in danger? Remember him? Apparently not, because Kirk only manages a vague “hmm?” and then, when McCoy wants to know what the heck is going on over there, Kirk mumbles that he’s sure Mr. Sulu will be just fine. Maybe he’ll find a woman too! Or another gun. Whatever. He’s fine. It’s fine.

But Kirk just can’t get a break in here, because he promptly gets another call. This time it’s from Rodriguez, reporting that he just saw a flock of birds go overhead. “Don’t you like birds, Mr. Rodriguez?” Kirk asks, so Rodriguez has to remind him of that tiny little detail that there are no birds on this planet. Or at least, there aren’t supposed to be, according to all those scans they took.

Welp, Kirk says, guess those scans were defective, how bout that, funny ol thing, probably not important though...but, for all that he clearly wants to tell Rodriguez to go away so he can get back to Ruth Time, Kirk’s captain instincts are still hanging in there somewhere, so with a sigh he snaps out of it and tells Rodriguez to have all the search parties meet back at The Glade before hanging up. Ruth tells him to go do what he must and that he’ll see her again if he wants to, then walks off back into the desert, leaving Kirk alone among the rocks with only his memories...but just for like, five seconds, because he promptly gets another call.

This time it’s Spock, reporting that they’re getting some strange readings indicating some kind of ‘power field’ down on the planet, and that there’s “a highly sophisticated energy draining our power and increasing, beginning to affect our communications.” How energy can be highly sophisticated is beyond me, honestly (is it wearing a monocle? what?), but you’re the science expert there, Spock. Seems this energy might be coming from beneath the planet’s surface, possibly indicating some kind of industrial activity going on down there.

Well, I think at this point we can definitively say that Something Weird is going on down here. Kirk heads off back to The Glade in pursuit of answers, and as he leaves we see another aerial, sticking up from a rock and twirling attentively in his direction.

Meanwhile, McCoy and Barrows are having a cheerful meander through the woods. Lovely as the woods are, though, Barrows comments that she wouldn’t want to be alone in them. “Why not?” McCoy asks. I dunno, man, because she just got attacked by an armed man with distinctly dishonorable intentions? I think that’d put most people off a stroll through the woods, no matter how nice said woods are.

Barrows hasn’t been dissuaded from the romantic ideal entirely though, and says that in woods like this a lady should be dressed in some fancy fairy-tale princess duds. I was thinking ‘long pants and hiking boots’ myself, but whatever works for you.

McCoy replies that if she was so dressed she’d have “whole armies of Don Juans to fight off...and me, too.” Not sure if “let me just remind you of that scary encounter you just had with a threatening man” is the best approach to flirting, but going by the moment of tender hand-holding they proceed to have, I’d say Barrows is down with it. (Hmm...Bones...Barrows...kind of goes together. In a morbid way, but still.) Still, the whole thing doesn’t feel quite in character for Bones, which might be explained by this plot originally being intended for Kirk (of course) with McCoy swapped in later. Kirk and McCoy are pretty much interchangeable, right? Sure.

Barrows is quickly distracted from the hand-holding when she spots something in the trees nearby: the exact kind of fancy fairy-tale princess clothes that she was just talking about, hanging on some branches. Imagine that. She runs over to the clothes and holds the dress up to herself gleefully, exclaiming, “Look at me, doctor! A lady to be protected and fought over!” When McCoy suggests the clothes would look even better with her in them, Barrows isn’t sure if it’s a great idea, but decides to go for it. Now, uhhh, if Barrows wants to wear a pretty princess dress that’s entirely her prerogative, and I don’t blame her for wanting to change out of that awkwardly ripped uniform, but putting on a set of fancy clothes that mysteriously appeared in the woods? That sounds like an excellent way to get captured by faeries and I would not recommend it.

Barrows goes to change behind some bushes, brazenly ignoring the possibility of being kidnapped by the fair folk, and McCoy is very deliberately Not Peeking when he gets a call from Rodriguez. The communicator has gone all staticy and squawky, though, and McCoy only just makes out the message that they’re supposed to meet back in The Glade before Rodriguez cuts out, and no amount of shouting “ESTEBAN!” into the communicator gets him back. Which is a pity for Rodriguez, because the scene cuts to show us that he and Marteller are in quite the spot of bother: they’re leaning up against a tree, clutching each other, while a tiger prowls about nearby. Yes, a tiger. Not a dude in a tiger suit, or a dog with stripes painted on, or even stock footage of a tiger: an actual, real, 100% bonafide, quite expensive tiger. Rodriguez tries desperately to get ahold of McCoy again without setting off Shere Khan over there, but the communicator doesn’t pick up at all this time.

Blissfully unaware of the tiger trouble, McCoy watches Barrows emerge, all dolled up. Meanwhile, Kirk is talking to Spock and demanding some answers about all this. Spock is hesitant, but Kirk says it’s his job to provide answers. Cut him some slack there, Kirk. It’s pretty hard to come up with a good scientific explanation for giant talking bunnies and magic women. Well, one that doesn’t involve massive intoxicants, at any rate. Speaking of which, Spock wants to know if they’re really sure these haven’t been hallucinations. Kirk rather doubts that, since one of those ‘hallucinations’ clocked him across the jaw. A fair point, although I would also put forth the rather relevant detail that by now we’ve had multiple people seeing the exact same thing, not a common feature of hallucinations.

Spock wants to know if they should maybe beam down an armed landing party, who I’m sure would be terribly effective, but Kirk says no, there hasn’t been any real danger so far, just weirdness (he hasn’t seen that tiger yet). Right as he says that, he looks up and sees a flock of...are those geese? Oh shit, you better send that armed party down after all, Spock, things just got dangerous.

Meanwhile, Sulu (remember him?) is walking through a nearby canyon, probably wondering where the heck everybody is, when the ground behind him opens up like a trapdoor and a samurai jumps out and starts attacking him. Man, we were getting some perfectly good character development for Sulu this episode but now we’re back to “a samurai! because he’s Japanese! get it? get it?”  

Sulu pulls his phaser on the samurai, but the phaser doesn’t seem to want to fire, and Sulu’s forced to make a run for it, right into Kirk, who is trying and failing to call McCoy. Sulu warns Kirk about the aggro’d samurai heading towards them—but he’s gone. No samurai to be seen. “Captain, you’ve got to believe me!” Sulu insists, and usually “you’ve got to believe me” is the best way to guarantee that someone will not believe you, but luckily for Sulu Kirk’s seen enough weird shit of his own today that at this point, sure, samurai, why not.

Sulu reports that he got a call from Rodriguez telling him to meet back at The Glade, but the communicators were acting up, and now it seems his phaser is out too. Kirk tests his, but it’s also dead. Great, now we don’t have any way to fight off the geese.

While they’ll mulling over this latest development, something appears up on a nearby outcropping of rock—the familiar human-shaped swirl of light of someone being transported. It appears to be Spock, but instead of the usual smooth materialization, he fades in and out several times before finally making it all the way. Just your periodic reminder that traveling through transporter is kind of terrifying.

Kirk wants to know what the heck, man, did he not just say to not send anyone else down? Spock says he had to come down because ship-to-planet communications are now completely out, and the mysterious power field is soaking up energy so quickly that he calculated that if they hurried they could just about get one person transported down before that went out too. Naturally he sent himself; I mean, he’s only the first officer, who better to risk sending through a shaky transporter beam? At any rate, that was the last of the transporter juice, so they’re all stuck down there now with no contact with the ship. The shuttles are conspicuously unmentioned by anyone—but then, if the energy-eating field is that strong, flying a shuttle into it probably wouldn’t end real well.

Back in The Glade, McCoy and Barrows have arrived (and McCoy has found another stalk of grass to chew on), but no one else is there yet. At least it doesn’t look like anyone is there yet, but McCoy thinks he hears something or someone moving around nearby. That makes Barrows nervous, but McCoy says her brave knight will protect her.

Over in the desert, Kirk, Spock and Sulu hear the tiger approaching, along with the ominous background music. They spread out to find the source of the noise, but there’s another problem in The Glade: a knight in black armor on a horse, charging towards McCoy and Barrows with lance at the ready. Barrows freaks, but McCoy is done with this shit. First a talking rabbit, then magic guns, and now this nonsense? He’s not having it. These damn things are all just hallucinations, and he’s going to prove it...by standing directly in front of the knight.

Under some circumstances, that might have been the correct option. Unfortunately for McCoy, these are not those circumstances, and Kirk and Spock come into The Glade (having, apparently, missed the tiger completely) just in time to watch their friend get hit in the chest by a very much not imaginary lance. The knight turns towards Kirk and Spock next; Spock tries to fire his phaser  at it, but of course, the phasers aren’t working. Luckily Kirk still has that gun he confiscated from Sulu—which has somehow not gone off throughout any of these adventures--and it’s working just fine, fine enough to shoot the knight right off his horse. Dang, Kirk is a good shot with that thing, considering he’s never so much as encountered one before.

Everyone rushes over to McCoy, lying lifeless in the grass. That’s right, McCoy is dead. Oh god! McCoy! We hardly knew ye! Oh, I can’t believe this has happened. And so early on in the show, too. What a tragedy.

[ID: McCoy laying prone on the grass with a small bloody hole in his chest, while Kirk, Spock, and Barrows in her princess clothes kneel around him.]

Not that I have experience with these things but that seems to be a remarkably small and clean wound for a lance to the chest.

In shocked grief, Spock, Kirk and Barrows kneel around the body of their fallen comrade. Barrows is especially emotional, sobbing that it’s all her fault, until Kirk grabs her by the shoulders and sternly tells her to get a grip. I suppose he needs everyone to have a clear head since they’re still in a crisis situation but it seems a wee bit harsh. Poor Barrows. She’s had a really bad day. Although not as bad as McCoy’s day, I guess.

Sulu calls Kirk over to the body of the fallen knight, laying in the grass some way away. As soon as Kirk gets there it’s easy to see what got Sulu’s attention: underneath the visor of his helmet, the knight’s face is plasticky and clearly artificial (although the eyes are just a little unnervingly realistic).

[ID: A headshot of a knight laying on the grass with his helmet visor opened, showing the face of a white man with brown hair but with a flat, artificial sheen.]

“It couldn’t be alive,” Kirk muses. Kirk, don’t be mean to the stuntmen.

Spock comes over to scan the body—luckily his tricorder is still working (don’t ask why). He says that the knight is indeed not a corpse but a “mechanical contrivance” which has the same cell structure as all the plants around them. Which means that not only this knight, but everything on the planet has been manufactured. Oh my god. We’re in WESTWORLD.

So a mysterious black knight just appeared out of the blue, ran down poor McCoy, then got shot and turned out to be fake all along. Okay. Sure. To be honest, you could stick that sequence of events in the Arthurian canon and it wouldn’t stand out much.

Suddenly, just to add to all the weirdness, an airplane flies overhead. Somewhere else, Rodriguez and Marteller are watching it with astonishment. Rodriguez asks if Marteller remembers “the early wars and funny air vehicles they used” that he was telling her about. One wonders how that conversation came about. Was it before or after the tiger?

Anyway, Rodriguez brings this up because that, of course, is one of those very same airplanes he mentioned. Marteller asks if it can hurt them, and Rodriguez says it can’t unless it makes a strafing run. Naturally, the plane immediately makes a strafing run. The two run off, barely avoiding the hail of bullets, and escape into some nearby undergrowth, where Marteller falls over. Rodriguez kneels down, concerned, calling her name, but she doesn’t respond. I have no idea whether she tripped, fainted, or was shot and is now dead. It’s really not clear.

Back in The Glade, something weird (sorry, something else weird) has happened while everyone was distracted by the plane: McCoy’s body has vanished, along with the fake knight. Well, that’s great.

Spock has a hypothesis. He asks Kirk what he was thinking of right before he saw the people he mentioned. Kirk thinks back and says that he was thinking about being in the Academy and his youth and all that, and then Finnegan showed up. And speak of the devil—there he is again, Finnegan himself. Kirk demands Finnegan give him some answers about what’s been happening to them, but Finnegan just laughs and runs away.

Kirk’s not going to stand for that. He’s had a bad enough day—verbally outfoxed by Spock, had a potential bit of lovely shore leave turn into a massive headache, one of his best friends is dead, and now this horrible little bastard is having a laugh at him. There’s only one thing to do—track down Finnegan and take out some aggression on him. He tells Spock to take Sulu and find McCoy’s body—and just, uh, leave Barrows somewhere, I guess—while he goes after Finnegan. Spock is a little taken aback by this sudden turn of events, but Kirk has run off before he has a chance to argue.

The chase takes Kirk back out to the desert. Finnegan keeps popping up in the distance, moving from place to place so quickly and inexplicably that it seems like he’s teleporting. All this time Finnegan’s peppy jig motif is playing, which is suitable enough for the immediate situation but a bit disconcertingly cheerful considering one of our beloved main cast members died and had his body stolen like two minutes ago.

Finally, Kirk tracks Finnegan down to a small ledge and once again demands that Finnegan give him some answers. Finnegan’s response to this is to jump off the ledge, onto Kirk. So begins a long fight scene in the desert dust. Kirk gives it a good show, but Finnegan seems indomitable. He knocks Kirk flat and then stands over him, taunting Kirk about how Kirk went and got old while Finnegan is still a twenty-year-old college student in fine fighting form. Well...a twenty-year-old in fine fighting form, at any rate. He’s got way too much energy to be a college student.

Despite being Super Old, Kirk gets back up and continues the fight. This time he’s the one who knocks Finnegan down, and Finnegan promptly starts moaning about how he can’t feel his leg and Kirk has broken his back. This is, of course, a trick, and as soon as he gets the chance he flips Kirk over onto his back. Somehow, between landing on the ground and getting a close-up, Kirk manages to rip his shirt clean off most of his torso.

[ID: 1. Kirk landing on his back in the dirt while Finnegan begins to get up from the ground nearby. 2. Kirk laying flat on his back, bruised, with his shirt torn off one shoulder almost to his stomach.]

how did you even do that

He lays there, seemingly unconscious, and Finnegan starts laughing about how Kirk can sleep now, sleep as much as he wants, sleep forever and forever. Oh. Uh. That got creepy.

Luckily for Kirk, a commercial break happens, and by the time it’s over, he’s recovered somewhat. He gets up and says, once again, that he wants answers. Finnegan tells him to earn them and throws dirt in his face, and they start going at it. Again. Seriously, this fight lasts for a long time.

Eventually, they come to a halt, both disheveled, bleeding, and covered in dirt. “Kinda makes up for things, huh, Jim?” Finnegan asks. I don’t know if the “things” are Finnegan’s bullying back in the day or everything that’s gone wrong today—or maybe both. Hard to say, because when Kirk questions him yet again, Finnegan says, “I never answer questions from plebes,” causing Kirk, clearly at his breaking point now, to bellow “I’M...NOT...A PLEBE!” as only William Shatner could.

Kirk asks Finnegan why the hell he’s here, magically still a cadet just hanging out on a supposedly uninhabited planet, which is pretty weird, y’know. Finnegan says he’s “being exactly what you expect me to be.” Which is more information than Finnegan’s provided so far, but not enough to dissuade Kirk from getting back up and finally giving Finnegan a right good sock on the jaw.

As he stands there catching his breath, Spock suddenly appears and asks if Kirk enjoyed his fight. Well, I say suddenly. It seems suddenly, but honestly he could have been standing there for the past ten minutes playing a trumpet and wearing light-up sneakers and I doubt Kirk would have noticed during that fight.

Kirk admits that yeah, actually, he did enjoy that. He’s been wanting to beat up Finnegan for years now and he finally got the chance and damn, it felt good. Spock says that this all fits into his theory: that these things and people are showing up because the Enterprise crew were thinking about them. You don’t say? I’m kind of amazed it took them this long to realize that, honestly. I mean, if something becomes relevant soon after I happened to be thinking about it I immediately notice it because that kind of thing strikes you as odd, right? And if something literally appeared in front of me right after I mentioned it, I think my immediate instinct would be to ask for something else just to see what would happen, which in this case would rather give the game away.

Anyway, Spock says that they must all control their thoughts, which is definitely a thing humans can do under pressure. He thinks that everything is being manufactured below ground and placed above via a system of secret tunnels, kind of like Disneyland. Then he starts talking about the tiger Rodriguez encountered—and said tiger immediately shows up nearby. Great job controlling your thoughts, Spock!

Apparently, Shatner wanted Kirk to wrestle this tiger, but basic sense prevailed and he was talked out of it. I wonder how that conversation went. “I gotta fight the tiger! It’s what this Kirk guy’s all about! I know, I’ve studied him!”

Luckily Kirk and Spock make their getaway without anyone having to fight the tiger. As they run back to The Glade, the airplane returns for another strafing run, so they have to outrun that too. Then, because I guess this is the part where all the previous bosses return and you have to fight them again, the samurai appears as well, but Kirk and Spock don’t have any time for that so they just push him over and keep going without even slowing down.

Back in The Glade, Barrows is in her uniform again and sadly hanging up the princess clothes on some branches. Her ripped collar seems to now be on the other side. Man, there’s just magic clothes all over this episode. And just to make Barrows’s day even worse, a leering mustachioed man appears in the brush behind her—Don Juan, one presumes. Man, somebody had a really weird idea of what women fantasize about.

Barrows screams and Sulu and Rodriguez rush over to rescue her—Sulu seems to be hoping that just kind of waving his hands around in the air will do the trick. Before yet another fight scene can break out, Kirk and Spock show up and tell everyone to stop this nonsense, at which point Don Juan just kind of obligingly leaves.

Kirk tells everyone to stand at attention and to not breathe or think. I hope he has some kind of plan beyond that because that is not a sustainable course of action. I mean, that’s how you get a giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Or just some passed-out crew. Incidentally, Rodriguez is here, but Marteller is nowhere to be seen. What happened to her? Is she dead? Did he just leave her laying in the woods somewhere? I have no idea, because she never gets mentioned again.

So the crew lines up and tries desperately not to think about tigers or samurai or vintage guns or airplanes or Don Juan or fancy princess clothes or talking rabbits or old flames or college rivals or anything else, and while they’re doing this an old man in blue robes suddenly appears.

[ID: Kirk, still bruised with a badly torn shirt, looking in surprise at a kindly-looking white man with white hair, wearing a blue robe with gold leaf embroideries on the chest and cuffs.]

Dangit! Which one of you was thinking of an old man in blue robes?

The man, who seems to know everyone’s names, introduces himself as the caretaker of the planet. He apologizes for all their troubles and says that ‘they’ only realized just now that the Enterprise crew didn’t understand what was going on—that everything that happened was only meant to amuse and entertain them. On this planet, you can imagine any kind of experience you want, and it’ll happen. Spock calls it an amusement park, and then explains to everyone else that that’s ‘an old Earth term’ for a place where people went to have fun experiences. Wait, does that mean that amusement parks don’t exist anymore? Why not? When did we lose our amusement park capabilities? Man, I don’t know about this future, guys.

The Caretaker says Spock has got it right—this is basically one giant amusement park. The whole planet, in fact, was constructed for the Caretaker’s people to come and play. Sulu expresses surprise at the idea that a species that seems to be so advanced would still play games, but Kirk says that on the contrary, the more advanced the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play, and the Caretaker agrees. Okay, cool planet, guys, but have you considered maybe, I dunno, putting up some signs or warning buoys or something so random space travelers who don’t know what the place is about don’t stumble upon it and have a really bad day?

Speaking of having bad days, Kirk might have his answers now, but he’s not exactly happy about his best friend and CMO getting killed by what was more or less a rogue audio-animatronic. But then who should call out but the CMO himself, who comes strolling over, looking decidedly not dead. Also he has a couple scantily-clad women with him for some reason.

[ID: McCoy saying, “Possibly because no one has died, Jim,” as he stands in front of the pond arm-in-arm with two women wearing fluffy bikinis, feathers in their hair, and what looks like a feather boa wrapped around one leg; one woman is in pink and the other in yellow.]

McCoy says he was taken below ground for ‘repairs’ and that there’s a huge factory complex down there that can make absolutely anything. They even fixed his shirt! So McCoy is fine, and we can call off the mourning, what a relief. Phew. Really had me worried there.

Barrows, though, seems less than amused by the fuzzy girls and asks what’s up with that. McCoy mutters something about a cabaret he visited that had these chorus girls and, well, here they are. Really? That’s what you were thinking about, after being brought back from the dead by an advanced alien civilization in an underground factory? A cabaret you went to once? These people have weird priorities.

This is one part of the episode that strikes me as interesting because it’s quite different from how I would expect a more modern sci-fi story to handle it. The idea of a planet-sized super-advanced alien theme park that can generate whatever you’re thinking about is in itself not a story idea I’d be surprised to encounter today. But the idea that all these creations are mechanical replicas built in a giant underground factory kind of is. You’d expect a race as advanced as that to be using, I dunno, holograms or telepathic projections or just something that’s straight-up never explained. I mean, even by the time of TNG we have regular humans using holodecks, which do everything this planet can do with just hard light or whatever. It’s a sort of linear thought process, I think, which shows up more than once in Star Trek and plenty of other sci-fi, wherein the idea of super-advanced alien/future tech is expressed as “okay think of what we can do right now, and then imagine it could be done faster and better.” Rather than taking a sideways step to imagine some completely new technology, it’s basically “well we have factories that can produce artificial things, so the advanced aliens must have bigger factories that can quickly produce more lifelike artificial things.” Of course, all sci-fi is going to have that to some extent because it’s impossible to completely extricate our imaginations from our current understanding of the world. But sometimes it’s especially obvious.

McCoy, seeing Barrows’s expression, turns the fuzzy girls loose to go pester the rest of the crew. Kirk is curious about the Caretaker’s species, but the Caretaker gently says that he doesn’t think humans are ready to understand them yet. But Uhura calls Kirk to say that ship power and communications are back on, and the Caretaker says that the crew is free to take their shore leave on the planet if they want. Well, that’s nice of them. Not everyone would share their planet-sized amusement park with total strangers.

So Kirk tells the shore leave parties to start beaming down. Spock says that he’s had quite enough excitement and is going to go back and hold the fort on the ship, and Kirk almost overrules him and says that he’ll go instead because as the captain he’s not allowed to have fun. But then he sees Ruth approaching in the distance and decides that, you know what, he’ll stay after all. Personally it seems to me that knowing that the long-lost love you were smooching was actually a plastic simulacrum of them would kind of take the joy out of it, but hey, what do I know about these things. I just hope they explain the ‘anything you think of will immediately appear’ situation to everyone before they come down, or any crewmembers with an anxiety disorder are going to get a nasty surprise.

Some time later, everyone returns to the ship, looking quite refreshed and happy. As Kirk, McCoy, Sulu and Barrows come onto the bridge, Spock asks if they enjoyed their shore leave, and they all agree that they did, very much. “Most illogical,” Spock comments. I don’t know what exactly he finds illogical about that, but then that pretty much is Spock’s fall-back way of expressing disapproval regardless of how much sense it makes.

So everyone laughs, and they fly off, and we have a nice happy ending. The filming of Shore Leave itself was rather less happy. The original script was written by Theodore Sturgeon, but Roddenberry thought it contained too much fantasy, so he handed it off to Gene L. Coon for a rewrite—but in some sitcom-worthy misunderstanding, Coon somehow thought that Roddenberry wanted more fantasy. So Roddenberry himself wound up re-rewriting the script, but at that point they were so out of time that he was writing it while the episode was being filmed. I have no idea exactly what levels of ‘fantasy’ were involved in either version of the script that Roddenberry disliked so much. Unicorns? Werewolves? Women characters not getting harassed by mustachioed stalkers for no real reason? Who knows.

The script also called for an elephant along with the tiger, and an elephant was actually hired and brought to set, but various shooting difficulties meant that it never wound up getting filmed. No word on whether Shatner wanted to wrestle the elephant too.

You may also have noticed Kirk suddenly has a new yeoman seemingly replacing Rand. By this point, Rand had been written out of the series; Balance of Terror was the last episode she would appear in (in filming order, The Conscience of the King was the last episode Grace Lee Whitney worked on). Exactly why the decision was made to write Rand out so unceremoniously is not really clear to me, and there seem to be lot of differing viewpoints on it; one thing that is clear is that it was a huge blow to poor Whitney, who was abruptly dismissed from the show through no fault of her own. To be honest, I don’t personally think that Rand was written especially well most of the time, but I think that she could have been written well, which is what makes it such a shame that she was removed from the show without getting the chance to get any real character development. Within the show itself, there’s no reason given for Rand just being gone one day (people just appear and disappear at random on this ship), though I’m sure the EU has that covered. Personally I just hope she found a ship that was a lot less stressful to be a woman on. We’ll miss ya, Rand!

TREK TROPE TALLY: We’ve got one crewmember death, followed by one crewmember un-death, plus one truly incredible case of a Uniform Unformed with Kirk’s shirt magically destroying itself between shots. Next time we’ll finally see some shuttle action in The Galileo Seven.

[circular-time]

Spare Parts Liveblog 7 -Disc 3 

EEEK. I’m impressed just how suspenseful and exciting Spare Parts is, even when we know it hinges on a fait accompli (creation of the Cybermen). Then again, Genesis of the Daleks was pretty good too.

Track 3.1 - “Popping the Seals” 

The Doctor’s in an unusual, impossible situation. Normally he’s trying to stop the Cybermen. This time?

IF HE DOES NOTHING, the Cybermen will be destroyed along with Mondas. Bonus: he and Nyssa may be killed before they can escape, and they’ll abandon a lot of innocent people to die, too. IF HE TRIES TO HELP, he’ll be saving the Cybermen. On the other hand he and Nyssa may die in that case, too. And either way the people of Mondas are screwed.

Ouch. Good luck with that, Doc.

Inside the Committee Palace, Sisterman Constant and Sisterman Allan are trying to herd some extremely terrifying cats: half-processed Cybermen demanding tasks.

Infiltrating the palace, the Doctor digs out some of Mondas’ history from Dodd, who doesn’t know which way to jump. This society is...sort of Communist? The leaders were executed, the People’s Committee rules.

The Doctor grabs gold leaf from an old statue. Early classic Who had Cybermen allergic to gold like werewolves to silver, but i think that may have been the Telos models. At any rate, nice nod to Deadric, whose gold star was handy for Five’s Cyberman-disposal on a previous occasion.

Poor Cyber-Yvonne bumps into them so Dodd can see how horrible they are— the Doctor is trying so hard to get this “I don’t care” cynical opportunist to care, but he’s just scared. Yvonne can’t remember who she is, only that she wanted to show off her uniform to her father (but he’s already seen photos and thinks they’re horrible). The pathos of having a Cyberman whose identity we know will be used again later by New Who.

[ETA: Apparently the Yvonne scene was adapted by new Who in The Age of Steel / Rise of the Cybermen, on which Marc Platt got a writing credit. Much like Dalek, that was new Who cribbing/adapting a Big Finish story.]

Track 3.2 - “Power Vacuum” 

It’s snowing inside the city cavern. Perfectly festive for the Christmans holiday (Big Finish and its scary Christmas stories!) except that’s a sign the planet’s icy exterior has broken into the biosphere. Power’s out, heat’s off.

So Nyssa and the two surviving Hartleys are standing on the doorstep of a poor apartment complex in near-darkness, watching the city die as cold death rains down... utterly helpless and terrifying.

Toto, I don’t think we’re on Traken anymore.

_____

Meanwhile Allan and Constant are now prisoners of paranoid, half-processed cyber-recruits. Allan manages to talk them into letting her go work on the generators. Bidding farewell to Constant who gives her a scarf and blesses her; that’s what passes for a touching farewell in this hellhole.

The Doctor sees Allan being herded by a mistrustful Cyberman and leaps to her rescue (of course) rubbing gold on its grill. A brief moment of gallows humor: 

“Well, go on! Choke and fall over.”  “Is this a thre-eat?” 

Whoops. Mind your head on that lampshade.

Allan proves she does actually care about life; she deactivates the cyber-recruit. “I had to abort him. I don’t take this decision lightly.” “No doctor does.” Speaking from experience: he doesn’t kill unless he absolutely must either. But the difference between them is that Allan still thinks of the Cybermen as people, and to some extent, her children.

“I’m closing his eyes. He was a human being.” “It’s a Cyberman.” 

And yet the last one the Doctor saw had vestiges of humanity— but that’s only because Yvonne was half-processed.

Nyssa doesn’t have a key and gets locked out of the TARDIS. Eeek. (Why did she go out without a key? Argh, the Doctor’s lack of common sense is rubbing off!) 

She wants to go to the Committee Palace to find the Doctor— brave lamb to the slaughter— but she and Frank see Cybermen on patrol and decide to take cover at home.

Track 3.3 - “Dead Planet Walking”

Eeek. Another really disturbing scene. As horrible as Sisterman Constant is, telling a Cyber-recruit “You were chosen for a purpose” as if she is somehow superior and had the right to condemn the person it used to be— it still freaks me out when it breaks her shoulder. 

Likes Robespierre, she’s about to find out how sharp that guillotine blade is. 

She treats the Cybermen as second-class citizens, yet Constant still deludes herself that the recruits are people and is outraged when Zheng shows up and shoots the one hurting her.

(actual first Doctor cliffhanger, first time Cybermen ever seen I think)

Zheng establishes himself as the Boss at once. Nick’s being brilliant again: same singsong voice, but deeper and more menacing. “Resistance will not be tolerated.” He sends Constant off to be processed, without pity. Buh-bye Constant, religious hypocrite who still somehow manages to be a (slightly) symapatheic character.

Back to Allan and the Doctor arguing Mondas’ fate in the chamber with the Committee, the 20 top minds of Mondas (literally; they’re kind of brains in jars). 

Peter has some great speeches, and he just goes for it. Passionate, outraged, horrified, blunt, trying to get Allan to see how ghastly the Committee is, that it and the Cybermen have both lost every human spark and shouldn’t be in charge of saving people they don’t care about.

Zheng barges in, interrupting him before he really gets going. The Doctor starts fibbing as only he can fib...

“How do you do, I’m the... Doctorman’s assistant. (Every Doctor should have one.)” 

YES. YES YOU SHOULD. GO FIND HER. (Every now and then these audios’ tendency to split up Doctor and companions drives me mad. They work together more often on TV.)

And now Platt provides a really good reason for the creation of the Cybermen: Mondas is moving into a radiation-heavy and highly dangerous region of space; they’re installing engines to move it away, but surface construction requires Cyber-processed workers. Plus, the radiation from the nebula and ice from the surface is reaching into the depths of the planet, so Cyber-processing may be the only way to keep anyone alive.

Amazing how this whole story maintains the atmosphere of crazed desperation, the frenzy of rats in a trap turning on one another, or a wolf gnawing its own leg off trying to live. 

Track 3.4 - “Switch Hitter” (Platt must be responsible for these gallows humor puns)

Back to a spot of home repair and ethical debate. Allan says the Cybermen are their saviours. Zheng: “We are the future.” Doctor: “EXACTLY!!!! *throws switch* Four down, six nails in the coffin to go.”

He knows damn well what he’s doing now: putting the future back on course, condemning the citizens to be cyber-converted (their fate is inescapable now), sending Mondas back towards Earth, where it will eventually meet up with the First Doctor.

He’s complicit in the Cybermen’s creation.  At least in THIS version of canon.

And now back to the human side of things: the ordinary people, the stroke of Big Finish genius that digs into human characters more in order to make the monsters more personally, intimately horrible.

Yvonne breaks into her old home, and we get the pathetic image of a Cyberman weeping. Oh this scene is so bleeping heartbreaking. (and awful; her dad tries to take off the mask not realizing that’s her face, and she screams.) 

Mr. Hartley is so sweet to Yvonne, treating her like she hasn’t changed, even though he’s horrified. He takes her over to the [Christmas] tree and gives us a little Mondasian symbolism: “the forests that once grew on the surface of the world... the stars... the worlds we pass...the star on top, the old Sun we left behind...” 

To her surprise, Nyssa learns that some Cybermen do have feelings (or do they? This one’s broken.) 

And Frank learns that what he wanted to be so badly -- a crewman -- is the ultimate doom of his sister.  Talk about growing up in a hurry.

Ooops! Time for Agony Acting Pete.  He’s so good at screaming. (Zheng uses the Doctor to get the repairs done and then electrocutes him, and Allan thinks he’s dead.) 

Track 3.5 - "Seeing the Tree for the Forests”

So let’s see. Gearing up for a classic Who Everything’s Gone To Hell Episode 3 Cliffhanger.

Doctor is dead. (Not) 

The Hartleys have had their world shattered, though Mr. Hartley’s in denial “We’re all back together now, like a proper family.” While a cyberman cries on his shoulder. Ugh. Poor Yvonne. 

Constant gets to meet the whizzy end of a dentist drill, just so we can squirm some more at the visceral image.

Doctor not dead; there’s still a few minutes yet before the cliffhanger. First thought as he wakes up is “Nyssa, must find Nyssa.” Someone should’ve hit him on the head sooner.

 (Then again, until now he had a Time Lord duty, horrible as it was: secure history. Done. Now he wants to get her out of there.) 

Unfortunately the Doctor is not in good enough shape to go anywhere, so Allan decides to use him as a template to improve the Cybermen and make them more durable. Uh oh.

HEY DOC? NEVER SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN INVOLVED.

Back to the Hartleys --- the power is restored, and Yvonne cries “DAaaad!” as her last vestiges of soul are ripped from her. :(  Again, she stands for all the Mondasians we don’t know about. 

And now Frank’s watching the frozen atmosphere pour through a break in the roof onto the hydroponics plant. Which means starvation. What an image. 

Track 3.6 - “Wetware Piracy”

Back in the Palace, the Doctor’s in hospital, and Dodd, who’s been skulking and hiding, offers to help him make a call to Nyssa at the Hartleys (”I never forget a creditor”) if the Doctor promises to give him one of his two hearts. Which may be a lie, but you never know; Five has a terrible self-sacrifice problem. (Again, he and Nyssa are too well-matched.) 

Thought Frank would have learned a lesson after seeing what happened to Yvonne, but know, he’s still being all too human and lashing out. When Nyssa tries to comfort him he screams something about how she can’t understand, “Who have you ever lost?!” and storms off. 

Well, her mother, her father, her entire world... but teenagers always think their problems are bigger than everyone’s.

FINALLY. Phone call from Doctor to Nyssa. He tries to ask for her assistance, but she doesn’t have a TARDIS key. You can hear his hopes dying as he tells her nevermind, he’ll think of something. They’re screwed.

Cliffhanger time! 

Dodd’s caught and sent for processing, Nyssa’s caught (thanks to the Doctor’s call?), the Doctor’s trapped as a guinea pig for Allan’s experiments. 

“NO! I will not be the template for your monstrous parodies of humankind!”

Typical broad-stroke Marc Platt script: after 40-odd years, he dares to suggest that the better, later, more powerful Cybermen were based on the Doctor! (I’m not entirely thrilled with retconning and making so many things the Fifth Doctor’s fault; Fallible Five is so cursed. But it’s a heck of a concept.) 

Episode ends with the eerie Cyber-voices of the Committee summing up their plans for TEAM MONDAS:  WE. WILL. SURVIVE. 

*twitch* 

DOOO WEE OOO.

[jyjphilippines]

[REVIEW] 170322 Cityonfire: Sea Fog | aka Haemoo (2014) Review

Director: Shim Sung-Bo Writer: Shim Sung-Bo, Bong Joon-Ho Cast: Kim Yun-Seok, Park Yoo-Chun, Han Ye-Ri, Lee Hee-Joon, Moon Sung-Geun, Kim Sang-Ho, Yoo Seung-Mok Running Time: 111 min.

By Kyle Warner

I think Memories of Murder deserves to be in the conversation of the finest films ever made. Dark, thrilling, funny, and almost poetic, it’s the movie that made me a fan of director/co-writer Bong Joon-ho, who did not disappoint when he followed up that masterwork with other great titles like The Host, Snowpiercer, and Mother. But one of the voices behind the making of Memories of Murder that never got the same level of acclaim that Bong did was co-writer Shim Sung-bo. Since Memories of Murder, Shim has directed a couple of short films, but has largely remained an unknown to most viewers. Now, with his feature directorial debut Sea Fog (aka Haemoo), Shim steps up and presents himself as one of the most promising new directors in Korean cinema. And, like that modern classic Memories of Murder, Shim shared the writer’s room with the great Bong Joon-ho to help bring the dark story to life.

Sea Fog is a story of desperation. The characters are desperate to make a living, desperate to escape hardship, desperate to evade the law, desperate to survive. It’s downbeat, has the heart of pitch black film noir, and takes you in directions you wouldn’t expect.

The fishermen of the boat Jeonji aren’t catching much these days. Captain Kang (Kim Yun-seok) has a wife who is cheating on him, his rusty boat is now owned by the bank, and he has to beg the boss for money to pay his crew. Without so much as consulting his crew, Kang agrees to use the boat to pick up illegal immigrants coming out of China and smuggle them back into South Korea. What begins simple enough takes a turn when the illegals challenge the sailors, who are obviously out of their depth.

When a horrible accident occurs, the fishermen try their best to cover things up for fear of facing jail time. It’s then that things shift from a dark (sometimes politically charged) drama to a thriller, as already desperate men lose their humanity and inch closer to madness. Captain Kang, who had once seemed like a sympathetic figure, becomes merciless and cold. Some of his crew, now reduced to their base nature, obsess over money or the women among the illegal immigrants. Only one crewman, Dong-sik (Park Yoo-chun) remains largely himself throughout the ordeal. Even so, the young Dong-sik must decide how far is to go in order to survive the increasingly desperate scenario.

Sea Fog is based on a stage play, which itself was inspired by a sad true story. Like many stage play adaptations, Sea Fog has one primary set. But unlike many stage play adaptations, we never really take notice of the limited sets and locations. The boat is big and it’s surrounded by that cold, black ocean. Filmed beautifully by cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo (The Wailing), Sea Fog plays bigger than its surroundings might suggest. When the fog rolls in, strange colors shine through the mist, giving the film the surreal appearance of a film noir nightmare.

The cast is largely excellent. Kim Yun-seok (The Chaser) has made a career of playing anti-heroes and likeable villains, and Captain Kang fits somehow into both categories. It’s an intimidating performance, made all the better by the fact that Kim saves the major outbursts for the finale. Perhaps most impressive is Park Yoo-chun (Sungkyunkwan Scandal) as the innocent and inexperienced Dong-sik. Han Ye-ri (Commitment) is very good as the film’s central Korean-Chinese immigrant, giving her character enough individuality so that she is not just a damsel. And character actor Mun Seong-kun (Green Fish) is memorable in one of the film’s most showy roles, that of the boat’s old-timer engineer who starts losing his mind when the worst happens.

If the script lacks subtlety in the final act, then at least you can say that it might endear itself more to thriller/horror fans that’ve come to expect a certain level of the extreme from Korean genre movies. I did not mind this shift in tone to a bloodier, high-pitched thriller. I do have to question the ending, however. Sea Fog ends with an extended epilogue, which felt unneeded especially after what would’ve been an excellent final shot.

A film with dark moral dilemmas and increasingly raised stakes, Sea Fog is the sort of movie that’s almost impossible to look away from. It also unfolds in an unexpected way, taking you on strange detours from the storyline that you were probably expecting. It’s an excellent thriller for fans of co-writer Bong Joon-ho, who explores more of the theme of class warfare seen earlier in Snowpiercer. For writer/director Shim, Sea Fog is one hell of a feature debut, and is hopefully a hint of more good things to come.

Kyle Warner’s Rating: 8/10

trailer: https://youtu.be/tHQ6UqY4J1A

Source: Cityonfire