A few words on why I can’t be bothered to care about the new Star Trek movie

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Look. I liked the J.J. Abrams reboot of Star Trek just as much as the next sweaty dork at the cineplex. It was great to get a glimpse of Kirk and Bones and Spock kicking ass as young dudes, and learn how they all came to be on the same starship. For as imaginatively interesting as the film was, I still somehow don’t think the story made a whole lot of sense: this is a separate timeline?…and Vulcan has been destroyed by a guy who is pissed off because his wife died?…and wait, does this mean that all the old Star Trek canon is no longer valid…or that we’re in a separate timeline (Edit: I’m so confused I had to ask twice)? I give up.

In any event this new movie, Star Trek: Into Darkness is coming out and it’s got the guy from that BBC show that’s kind of turned into the Game of Thrones for PBS junkies. That’s all great and stuff, but here’s my problem. Retconning.

In the past ten years we’ve seen about a dozen series get “rebooted” in a similar way. James Bond, Iron Man, Batman, Spider Man (twice!), Star Trek, the Alien franchise, and a bunch of lesser franchises that I don’t especially care about have all gone back to their “source material” to find a fresh start. Bungie also successfully reexamined the longstanding series of Halo video games with Halo: Reach. In some instances this has been great. Casino Royale was possibly the best Bond movie I’ve seen, though the two that followed were somewhat mediocre (Edit: actually, Skyfall was awful). Spiderman was relatively successful with both of its reboots (though in some ways they were essentially the same goddamned movie). All three Batman movies were pretty amazing. Iron Man was less successful in its second installment, and I don’t think I need to go into what a disaster I thought Prometheus was.

The issue I have with returning to source material in this way is that, in the case of Star Trek and Prometheus, you get a lot of unnecessary and often unfortunate retconning that jampacks the story with all kinds of narrative complexity it doesn’t need. The other problem is that, in a series where there is a considerable amount of existing canonical material (in particular with Prometheus and Star Trek), you run into the problem of sapping drama from the story: we know what comes after, so in some sense what is about to happen in whatever we’re watching is essentially inconsequential, so it had better damned well be interesting on some other level.

The first Star Trek movie failed to do this. There was a villain, but really his story didn’t add anything to the movie as a whole. Spock’s arc was confusing as all get out, and Kirk was established as the guy who bangs alien women and punches alien dudes.

Of all these returns, Halo: Reach was, to my mind, the most successful, largely because it experimented (in somewhat embryonic form) with tragedy as a subject for the story of a video game. They even telegraphed this in their marketing campaign, stating “From the beginning, you know the end,” which is the essence of the tragic mode. A franchise like Star Trek can’t play into that, because it is the nature of a franchise to endure, and to continue generating more and more entertainment, more Happy Meal toys, more revenue. If that’s the case, why not just keep moving forward, instead? If the story is in a rut, break free in other ways. Don’t look to the past. Seriously, Hollywood, just stop already. I’ve had enough.

So, yeah, this new Star Trek movie, whatever it’s called. I know that Spock and Kirk survive into the future, because (thanks to all the canonical material) it’s a foregone conclusion. So there had better be something else to draw me in, and, alas, the “newness” you’re injecting by re-imagining the command deck of the Enterprise won’t cut it. We’ve already seen that. You’re going to have to do better.

[Bioware and the Mass Effect development team: If you're listening, this applies triply to you. I'm serious. Do not go back to the First Contact War. I will still buy your stupid game, but I will hate it.]

Mass Effect Trilogy

Well, well! I don’t know if I’ll actually buy this (probably not), but damn this looks kind of cool. Get all three games, in one package.

As happy as I am to see this, and as happy as I am to learn that ME 3 is probably going to get another single-player episode, probably before Thanksgiving, I think I feel pretty good about where things ended up for Commander Shepard. I tried all the endings offered at the end of the extended cut, I played through a second time on Insanity. I mean, I’ll probably play the new DLC, which is rumored to take us to Omega, but I doubt I’ll be up at five in the morning, downloading it so I can play for a minute or two before going to work, the way I did with “Lair of the Shadow Broker.” I’m not done with Mass Effect. I’m not done with the universe, but the trilogy that Bioware made has, finally, told the story I needed it to. That’s all I ever asked from it.

A weird observation from Mass Effect 3

(Source: Gamezone)

So anyone who reads this page, all one of you, knows that I’m a huge nut for the Mass Effect series. For those who don’t remember, see my earlier pieces on Indoctrination Theory below. I still don’t quite know quite where my thinking is on certain aspects of the ending. I like it a good deal. I like the whole game a good deal. But I also don’t quite agree with Steven Totilo, who thinks that Mass Effect 3 is a thirty-five hour ending to the game. I’ll get to that later.

Right now, I wanted to mention something about the little boy we see in the opening sequence of the game. Earlier I’d stated that when Shepard finds him in the ventilation duct, it’s hard to tell whether it’s plausible for the two to meet up, given that we don’t really know what direction Shepard is coming from, or where the rooftop the boy was playing is in relation to the window Shepard was looking out at first. I’m actually inclined to say that Shepard’s window faces west, in part because her room has a view of the left side of a well known Vancouver landmark (the cruise ship terminal shaped like tipis). The windows of the tribunal chamber face the same direction, as we can tell, from where Shepard ends up when she and Anderson drop onto the ledge, when cutscenes finally give way to gameplay. So the boy is likely on the same side of the building.

Here’s where things get weird, though. Shepard and Anderson pick their way along the ledge, mounting the roof, and coming back down. As they do this, the player, if they were to look to the right, and down a little, can see the terrace where you end up after engaging your first group of enemies. Careful examination of the terrace shows that it’s pretty inaccessible. There isn’t much of a ledge leading onto it, and parts of the building are destroyed and on fire. As Shepard progresses toward the terrace, I made a point of watching it for signs of movement. (Earlier I’d observed the shapes of people running across a parking lot, on the street down below, and I guess I was looking for further details like that.) I hadn’t noticed this on my first playthrough, but this time I saw the boy race across the area, open the door, and vanish inside. It happens very quickly and is easy to miss. So much so, that I had to reload my game several times and replay the segment to be sure of what I was seeing. Here I noticed something else interesting: the boy spawns in a weird spot: right at the railing, which is to say, at the place where it’s least likely he could have climbed up (even your enemies, who seem to be able to climb vertical surfaces, came from a different spot).

Entering the room, I made sure to look into the ventilation duct, which is somewhat difficult because Shepard can’t crouch unless she needs to. In any case, I couldn’t see the boy hiding there.

So again, this raises some questions for me. Why not just spawn the boy inside the duct to begin with? Causing him to spawn on the terrace seems to indicate we were meant to see him running for cover.  But does that also mean that we were meant to see him appear out of thin air as well? It’s very odd, and frankly, seeing the boy appear on the balcony gave me both a thrill of discovery and a little shudder, the kind you get when you experience an example of the uncanny.

Show me your Shepard

These are my four favorites.

EDIT: I didn’t notice this at first, but while BroShep is pretty multiracial looking, all three of the women look pretty similar, except for the hair. Also, I have no idea why the third Shep is so cross-eyed. She looked really weird when I finally imported her (after being totally awesome for two games), so I had to mod her a good deal. I think ME 3 has a different head model.

Also, the last one is the one you shouldn’t mess with. She will ruin your day if you do.

Indoctrination and its discontents (part five)

Spoilers for ME 3, obvs.

[In the last installment we examined the Star Child (the Catalyst), and what he might signify within the game.]

V Shepard’s Choice

Returning to the endgame, Shepard must make her final choice. The boy’s new function (as embodiment of the catalyst) is to explain the relative moral value of the three possible endings.[1] As noted above, these options are to either destroy the reapers, control them, or to synthesize organic and synthetic life. IT holds that the only correct option is to destroy the reapers, as this represents Shepard’s final rejection of their control. The other two endings, if one agrees with IT, actually benefit the reapers’ designs, as they involve Shepard’s destruction.

Much has been made of the color scheme related to the three choices as well. Destroy is red; red, too, within the framework of the game also means “renegade,” for when Shepard says or does things that are more blunt, selfish, or even violent. Yet, as the Catalyst explains the situation to Shepard, we see Anderson—presumably Shepard is imagining this—shooting the power coupling. Wasn’t Anderson supposed to represent Shepard’s good side? IT holds that yes, he is. Similarly, we see the illusive man taking the blue (control the reapers) choice. Again, blue seems to correlate with the “paragron” option, which the Illusive Man clearly does not represent. Why, then, IT wants to know, are the paragon and renegade options reversed? Their answer is that the Catalyst is trying to trick Shepard into picking the wrong option; the debunkers point out that this isn’t the case: red simply represents destruction in a more obvious fashion, while blue represents the restoration of order. All the same, both the blue and the green endings appear to benefit the reapers, given that in both cases Shepard is killed.

One of the first people to advance a version of IT, the author of the blog Uninhibited and Unrepentant, points out an interesting change in the musical cues. “Listen to the musical change” they write, “The ‘control’ option is sinister with a quiet humming dissidence [sic.]. And the ‘destroy’ option rings brightly, a pleasant sound of uplifting hope and then fades away. It’s barely noticeable, broken by the jarring drumming sound, and it’s only at the beginning. But it’s there.”[2] [Edit 6/22/2012: CleverNoob has actually shown that this isn't true; the music is simply on a loop, and it appears to be coincidence that the positive and negative connotations are linked to the individual choices.] There are other odd auditory cues embedded in this sequence. ACAVYOS points out that the Star Child’s voice is actually a composite of three different voices: the boy’s, as well as the voices of the male and female Shepard, Mark Meer and Jennifer Hale. Meer’s voice is panned all the way to the right, and is barely audible; Hale’s panned to the left, and is somewhat easier to hear. The composite nature of the Catalyst’s voice is odd. It seems to support IT’s idea that this is an hallucination, given that according to Freud’s theory of dreams, everyone we meet while asleep is a reflection of ourselves.

Whatever else is true, the entire area where Shepard is standing is still on the bottom of the Citadel, which in a sense means that it was always there, waiting to be used, as though whatever race constructed the space station anticipated that it might be used for this purpose. In composing this essay, I’ve come across an interesting hypothesis about this situation on the Galactic Mattress. His point is too long to address here, but certain parts of his argument seem to make sense, and are certainly worth discussing at length; I shall attempt to do this in further work. On the other hand, this seems to be the one instance where Occam’s razor cuts in favor of IT.

One other interesting observation that appeared on Bioware’s Social Network, there are some interesting visual similarities between the area on the ground in London, seen just before Shepard reaches the Conduit, and this final area where she encounters the Catalyst.[3] For instance, as Shepard descends toward the Conduit, just to her left is a wrecked Mako. In the area where Shepard meets the Catalyst, there are a series of round objects, roughly the same size as the Mako’s wheels. Similarly the assembly where Shepard makes her final choice looks a good deal like the Conduit itself. Byne has posted a series of images that make this relationship clear.

Fig. 9. Byne’s composite image. (Source: Bioware Social Network)

What’s interesting is that in psychological theory, there’s some precedent for this. Freud called this part of the dream the “day residue”—images recorded in memory over the course of the day that are then repurposed by the unconscious mind during sleep.[4] The repetition of similar visual images (and the repetition of images from Shepard’s earlier experiences as well—i.e. the passageway leading up to the control panel) appears to be linked. Though it’s not likely that the developer was thinking of the day residue specifically in constructing this sequence, this doesn’t mean that the visual echoes in design don’t reflect something similar, and to signal to the player that something odd is happening, whether that means Shepard is indoctrinated or not.

Read Part VI


[1] Depending on certain choices made in game, and depending on the index of Shepard’s Effective Military Strength (EMS), not all of these options may be available. In fact, the game may “select” an ending for a player with an especially low EMS; the game bases its choice on whether Shepard chose to destroy or keep the Collector base at the end of Mass Effect 2.

[2] See Uninhibited and Unrepentant, “Mind=…Holy Fuck…”, http://uninhibitedandunrepentant.tumblr.com/post/19344938387/mind-holy-fuck, 5/8/2012.

[3] See user Byne’s post that compiles a good bit of the various observations, http://social.bioware.com/forum/1/topic/355/index/9727423/1, 5/8/2012. The thread, of which Byne’s post is the first, is now over two thousand pages long.

[4] V. Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams, Ed. Trans. A. A. Brill, New York: Modern Library, 1994.