• Relive John Belushi’s final captain’s log

    Relive John Belushi’s final captain’s log

    Saturday Night Live is known for bittersweet Star Trek skits. William Shatner’s “Get a life!” bit is infamous, and the other standout is “The Last Voyage of the Starship Enterprise” from season one in 1976. 

    John Belushi was an early star of the show and Michael O’Donoghue was SNL’s first head writer. They were also Star Trek fans. The 12-minute Last Voyage sketch they wrote tells the story of a network executive (Elliot Gould) chasing down the Enterprise in a Chrysler Imperial. He boards the ship, announces that Star Trek has been cancelled and orders the set dismantled. Spock, played by Chevy Chase, and Dan Akroyd’s McCoy slowly acknowledge the reality and break character, walking off the bridge with the rest of the crew. Only Belushi’s Kirk sticks it out, closing out the scene by recording his last captain’s log. 

    Actor John Belushi, dressed as Captain Kirk, giving the Vulcan salute

    The only way to watch that skit now is on an old VHS or DVD copy of The Best of John Belushi or this bootleg version. (Online at time of writing.) 

    The 1977 book Saturday Night Live collects scripts and notes from many of the best early SNL skits. It has a $7.95 price tag printed on the cover. I bought my copy secondhand for $4. You can get one today for about $6 at Thriftbooks and elsewhere.

    The cover of the book Saturday Night Live

    I scanned the Star Trek section, which contains the script plus some photos and a set sketch, and created a PDF. 

    The book also includes a letter Gene Roddenberry wrote to express his appreciation of the bit. Strangely, he addressed the letter to Gould, that episode’s host, rather than to Lorne Michaels or another member of the production staff. Perhaps this was because, as Roddenberry wrote, he had been “something of an Elliot Gould fan for years.” Still, sending the praise to O’Donoghue or Belushi would have been better choices.

    The letter Gene Roddenberry wrote to Elliot Gould, on Star Trek letterhead

    The approval he expressed makes sense, however, as Belushi and O’Donoghue clearly knew their Trek and respected the source material, even as they parodied it. Belushi’s Kirk says twice that there are 430 crewmembers aboard the Enterprise and accurately cites the captain’s serial number — SC937-0176CEC — as heard in Court Martial. There are also two references to the Promise Margarine commercial Shatner made in 1974. 

    Postscript

    The tunics worn in the sketch were purchased from the Federation Trading Post in NYC.

  • Starship class, part two: Gene Roddenberry and Matt Jefferies

    Starship class, part two: Gene Roddenberry and Matt Jefferies

    I grew up believing the Enterprise is a Constitution-class ship. I later learned differently and recently wrote The Enterprise is not a Constitution-class ship

    Many people really did not like that. Within 24 hours, the article generated lots of comments on social media, not all of them kind, and a bunch of hits on this site. (The traffic and the comments surpassed the previous champ, my piece on Harlan Ellison’s drug-dealing crewmember, in less than a week.)

    Here’s the thing: we discuss this stuff because we love Star Trek, and I respect that, and anyone can disagree with me. I’m just this guy. 

    But if you hold fast to the idea the Enterprise is a Constitution-class ship, you are also disagreeing with Gene Roddenberry and Matt Jefferies. 

    The creator

    The cover of the Star Trek Writers/Directors Guide

    Gene Roddenberry created what’s typically called a “bible” for his show. The Writers/Directors Guide was a briefing document for people who were not part of the ongoing production and therefore needed basic information on the show. On page 7, Roddenberry and his staff wrote: The U.S.S. Enterprise is a spaceship, official designation “starship class.”

    My copy is of the third revision, dated April 17, 1967. The date is important. This is almost two years after filming Where No Man Has Gone Before. It has been suggested that the dedication plaque, which states the Enterprise is a Starship-class vessel and which forms the basis of my argument, was a leftover from the pilot days that no one could be bothered to replace. This document makes it clear that is not the case.

    The Making of Star Trek, first published in 1968 and written by Stephen E. Whitfield and Gene Roddenberry, also could not be clearer on this point.

    The Enterprise is a member of the Starship Class (there are twelve of them) Registry Number NCC-1701. Starship Class vessels are the largest and most powerful man-made ships in space.

    You can disagree with me. I don’t think you can disagree with Gene Roddenberry.

    The designer

    Walter Matthew Jefferies designed the Enterprise. The Making of Star Trek includes Jefferies’ renderings of the Enterprise, the bridge, the hangar deck, the shuttlecraft and the Klingon battle cruiser.

    The Enterprise, depicted on page 178, is labelled “Space cruiser. Starship class.”

    A drawing, from The Making of Star Trek, by Matt Jefferies of the Enterprise

    You can disagree with me. I don’t think you can disagree with Matt Jefferies. 

    If you haven’t done so, please read my first piece on this. I know a lot of people don’t like to hear it, but the reality is the Enterprise is a Starship-class ship. 

    I appreciate everyone who took the time to engage with me on this. Special thanks to Robert J. Sawyer and Pierre Charles Dubreuil who pointed me to the Jefferies drawing and the show bible, respectively.

    Postscript

    Captain Pike assigned one crew member to do nothing but stand beside the turbolift. He is there in every bridge scene in The Cage, so I have no idea if the plaque was on the set in 1964.

    Update: Trek fan Karl Tate pointed out that guy moves off the wall in one scene and you can see the space beside the turbolift — and there was no dedication plaque on Pike’s Enterprise.

  • The Enterprise is not a Constitution-class ship

    The Enterprise is not a Constitution-class ship

    I grew up knowing that Kirk’s Enterprise was a Constitution-class ship. The designation was never stated on screen, but I was one of the chosen few with access to a trove of Star Trek facts: the Star Fleet Technical Manual.

    Created by Franz Joseph and published in 1975, this book filled out imaginary worlds for me with details we never saw on screen. I knew the names of the buttons on the Vulcan lyrette, I knew Scotty had an office in Engineering, I knew McCoy’s pointy red scanner thingy was an anabolic protoplaser, I knew that the staterooms had jacuzzis, I knew that the bridge was offset 36 degrees counterclockwise from “front,” and I knew the Enterprise was a Constitution-class ship.

    I knew all these things because the Technical Manual said so. 

    Later, I learned Joseph had based his work on a thorough study of Star Trek but that he also made up a lot of stuff. Indeed, “Constitution-class” is never said on-screen during the original series and we never see a USS Constitution or hear it referenced.

    Instead, the Enterprise is actually a Starship-class ship. It said so right on the dedication plaque, just to the right of the turbolift as you exit the bridge. The plaque read:

    U.S.S. ENTERPRISE

    STARSHIP CLASS

    SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF.

    It is just barely legible on screen, even on Blu-ray, but in this screen cap from Elaan of Troyius it is clear by the number and shape of the letters that it does not say Constitution Class. I also zoomed in on an image from The Naked Time, but it doesn’t really help. The resolution is just not there. (All episode images are from TrekCore.)

    So, where did Franz Joseph get Constitution class? From the script for Space Seed, it seems. In the episode, Khan asks to study “the technical manuals on your vessel” and the script specifies that one page of a manual has the words “Constitution class.” While this is an interesting production tidbit, “Constitution” is neither stated nor visible on screen.

    But that script was enough for TOS uber-fan and professional Star Trek prop and model maker Greg Jein. His seminal 1975 article The Case of Jonathan Doe Starship, published in the zine T-Negative, reproduces the graphic that was meant for the episode. (Click through to his article to see this image.) But here’s the thing: the image is not seen on screen and, even if it was, it is not a schematic of the ship but rather a component of the “primary phaser.” It is as logical to conclude that this is a Constitution-class component, not a part from a Constitution-class ship. (The graphic would be used later in The Trouble with Tribbles, but it is far too small to see any details.) 

    A scene from the Star Trek episode The Trouble with Tribbles. Kirk, standing, is speaking with a seated Scotty. On the screen in front of Scotty is an engineering schematic.
    The Trouble with Tribbles

    Star Trek production luminary Michael Okuda is on the Starship-class side. When Eaglemoss decided to reproduce the dedication plaque in 2016, it turned to Okuda to confirm the appearance and content of the original. And, just as with the plaque on the bridge set, it identifies the Enterprise as Starship class.

    (I, of course, had to buy one. It’s a nice piece but Eaglemoss decided to make it smaller than the original, probably to keep the cost reasonable. I wish it had not done that.)

    The Eaglemoss dedication plaque replica. It reads: USS Enterprise, Starship Class, San Francisco, Calif.

    With apologies to the young fan I was, I have to go with the actual dedication plaque on the wall of the bridge. The Enterprise NCC-1701 was a Starship-class ship.


    What did Gene Roddenberry and Matt Jefferies have to say about this? Read my followup article.


    Postscript: The TNG retcon 

    “But,” say Next Gen fans, “Picard said it was a Constitution class.” He did — twice. Reading out loud from the database in The Naked Now, he says: “The Constitution-class Enterprise, Captain James T. Kirk commanding.” 

    Later, Picard confirms the class in a touching scene in Relics as he looks around the holodeck scene Scotty created, and the engineer himself uses “starship” to define a type, not a class.

    Picard: Constitution class.

    Scott: Aye. You’re familiar with them?

    Picard: There’s one in the Fleet museum but then, of course, this is your Enterprise?

    Scott: I actually served on two. This was the first. She was also the first ship I ever served on as Chief Engineer. You know, I served aboard eleven ships. Freighters, cruisers, starships, but this is the only one I think of, the only one I miss.

    So, absolutely, TNG retconned the class. I don’t care. Dedication plaque beats TNG dialogue.


    Update: Mike Okuda explained to me why the TNG staff opted for Kirk’s ship being a Constitution class.

    We went with “Constitution” on TNG because it satisfied fan expectations, and because it implied that there were many different types of starships, which in turn implied that Starfleet was a bigger, more interesting, more capable organization.

    That makes sense, as most fans would have thought using the correct designation was an error. But it is a retcon; it was a Starship-class ship in the 1960s.

    Postscript the second: JJ got this right at least

    I really dislike the design decisions in JJ Abrams’ reboot: the Apple-store bridge, using a brewery for Engineering and, worst of all, mucking up Matt Jefferies’ sleek and beautiful ship design with bulbous nacelles. But one thing Abrams got right: that ship is Starship class. 

    The dedication plaque from the JJ Abrams reboot of Star Trek. It specifies that even his Enterprise is a Starship-class ship.
    Image from Memory Alpha

    Please also read the follow-up article I wrote, with additional primary sources.


  • Inside Star Trek 8: George Takei on almost everything except Star Trek

    Inside Star Trek 8: George Takei on almost everything except Star Trek

    Inside Star Trek was a semi-official newsletter, published under the guidance of Gene Roddenberry. This connection gave the writers access to the actors, production crew and sets.

    I own the complete run:

    • Issues 1 to 12: Inside Star Trek, edited by Ruth Berman
    • Issues 13 to 24: renamed Star Trektennial News, edited by Susan Sackett
    • Issues 25 to 31: again called Inside Star Trek, edited by Virginia Yable

    Here are highlights from issue 8, published early 1969.

    The cover of the Inside Star Trek newsletter, issue 8. The cover is a drawing of Lieutenant Sulu, done by Andrew Probert in 1969.

    Those invisible stagehands

    This is the weakest Inside Star Trek so far. It opens with a silly reader question:

    In “Plato’s Stepchildren,” did the actors control the forced movements the characters made when they were being telepathically pushed around, or were they pushed around by “invisible” stagehands? Dorothy Waibel

    Invisible stagehands? Well, kudos to Dorothy for having the courage to sign that question. Editor Ruth Berman responded, “The actors did it themselves.”

    Reader Carol Stoddard asked:

    Is Dr. McCoy’s daughter going to come on the Enterprise in any episode?

    The idea of meeting McCoy’s daughter had first been pitched by Dorothy Fontana in early 1967, and the third issue of Inside Star Trek touched on this briefly. (Here is my article on that.) Berman replied:

    No, at least not this season. Plans for a show about Joanna McCoy were begun, but did not work out.

    No, those plans did not work out. Fontana’s pitch had Kirk and Joanna begin a relationship, and that caused problems between the captain and Leonard McCoy. It would also have caused problems for viewers, because it would have been icky. 

    George Takei on everything else 

    The rest of the issue is a wide-ranging interview with George Takei, and that’s why this is a weak outing. Not because of Takei himself — who I quite like and often find interesting — but because he wasn’t asked about Star Trek. We hear about a course at the Inner City Cultural Center, a small play he was in, the origins of Japanese Kabuki theatre, and a character study of Shakespeare’s Brutus. There was so little content available to fans in the 1960s that anything related to the show was consumed eagerly, but this really would have been a better article had they actually discussed Star Trek.

    Still, there are two interesting bits. The first is about the advantage of being an Asian actor. 

    Many people complain about being of minority groups and so forth. But I think the very fact that I have this face opened a lot of doors for me… Other kids I was going to school with were kind of envious of my thing. But they were tall, blond, blue-eyed, and good looking, and they were a dime a dozen. My type was a rarity, so I worked, and they stayed in school.

    Takei also discussed his family’s internment in Japanese-American World War II camps. Berman asked him:

    In the official biography of you, it says that during World War II your folks moved from California to Arkansas. Is that a euphemism for saying that you were in one of our concentration camps?

    It’s amazing to me that Desilu or perhaps Paramount, depending on when this biography was created, would characterize forced imprisonment as a family move, and good for Berman for asking this question. Takei’s response, in part:

    My real memories of those camp days are fond memories… When we went, I was two years old or something like that, not really old enough to comprehend, and my parents told us we were going for a long vacation in the country. To a child, you know, that’s exactly what it was.

    The cover of George Takei's autobiography, To the Stars, showing Sulu in his movie uniform.

    In his autobiography To the Stars, published in 1994, Takei puts his age at four, and states again that he thought of it as an adventure: “I just assumed this was the way people went to the country for a long vacation.”

    For those old enough to understand what was being done to them, however, it was a grave injustice. Years later, that experience inspired the musical Allegiance, featuring Takei as the grandfather of an uprooted family. It premiered in 2012 and hit Broadway in 2015. It garnered mixed reviews, as in this piece from Variety

    There’s a tremendously affecting scene at the end of Allegiance in which George Takei’s character, his eyes glistening with tears, reconciles with his conflicted past and finds a promise of comfort that has eluded him for more than 50 years. The knowledge that the story was inspired by Takei’s childhood hardships in the Japanese-American “relocation centers” of World War II adds significantly to the emotional impact. But the powerful sentiments involved are too often flattened by the pedestrian lyrics and unmemorable melodies of Jay Kuo’s score, making an unconvincing case for this material’s suitability to be a musical.

    …the most moving work comes from beloved Star Trek veteran Takei, who brings gentle, albeit sometimes corny, humor to Ojii-chan. His deep personal association to the material and evidence of a generous spirit of forgiveness dictate the tone, and are among the show’s strengths.

    A photo of three cast members of the Broadway play Allegiance, with George Takei in the middle.
    Photo: NY Times

    The newsletter’s overlong and unfocused interview comprises almost all of this issue, and it feels like Berman just wanted to fill the pages. Readers would have been better served by more Star Trek in their Star Trek newsletter. This issue does end on a great note, however. Berman says that just after her interview with Takei, the cast and crew learned the series had been “picked up for the rest of the third season.”

    Inside Star Trek is an invaluable source of early Star Trek voices. I’ll cover each issue. Click here to read other articles in this series.

  • One of everything, please: 1969’s Catalog #3 from Star Trek Enterprises

    One of everything, please: 1969’s Catalog #3 from Star Trek Enterprises

    Gene Roddenberry realized in the late 1960s that people who love a TV show want to buy stuff related to it. 

    That had eluded most people back then, which is funny because the sports folks got it a lot earlier. The first set of baseball cards was issued by Goodwin Tobacco in 1886. Gypsy Queen or Old Judge smokers could collect cards featuring 12 New York Giants. And you’d be in the money today if you held on to the 1939 World Series program with the famous photo of Lou Gehrig’s big swing. 

    Photo from allvintagecards.com

    But Desilu and then Paramount did not market Trek collectibles in the 1960s. Luckily, Roddenberry was not known for missing business opportunities, and Star Trek Enterprises was born. Soon renamed Lincoln Enterprises, it began in 1967 as a mail-order business run by Bjo and John Trimble. It sold pendants, memo pads, insignia and postcards, plus subscriptions to the Inside Star Trek newsletter (which I am covering). It also sold film clips cut from production footage, which technically belonged to the studio, and scripts, while ignoring the percentage of those sales that should have gone to the writers. 

    But, for early Star Trek fans, these catalogs were a grand source of memorabilia when there was almost nothing else for sale. Here is my take on this 1969 catalog. 

    Research note: Catalog #3 is not dated but three observations lead me to believe it was published in 1969: 

    • It was produced by Star Trek Enterprises, which was renamed Lincoln Enterprises just before Roddenberry and his first wife Eileen divorced in 1969.
    • It advertised issues one to 12 of the Inside Star Trek newsletter; issue 12 was produced in 1969.
    • That issue would be the last until 1976, when it would relaunch under a new name, and as Catalog #3 references “subscribers” the company obviously did not yet know that the newsletter was about to suspend publication. 

    Click for larger versions.

    What I would have bought

    I was too young to place an order with Star Trek Enterprises, but here’s what would have been at the top of my shopping list. All prices are in US dollars.

    Star Trek Interstellar membership. $3.50. Film clips, a memo pad, issues of the newsletter and a membership card for a few bucks? Deal.

    Star Trek Writer’s Guide. $2. I now have a copy of the third revision of this document, dated April 1967. It’s a wonderful resource for fans as well as writers. I will cover it someday. 

    Flight Deck Certificate. $1 for the deluxe version. I would have grabbed one of these based on the promise it was “signed by Captain Kirk and Gene Roddenberry!” Sadly, it was not. I got mine from a short-lived sci-fi store in Toronto. I tell its story here.

    IDIC medallion. $7.50. Back then, I would have purchased one. Today, even knowing what I know, I probably would anyway. 

    Film clip frames. All 14 sets for $12. “These are the first print ‘daily’ originals from the very film that runs through the cameras as they film the show…Scotty tells us that these frames will fit into half-mount holders…for viewing in a home 35mm projector.” So, this is actual Star Trek film, from the set, that I can project on a big screen at home in glorious colour? For fans in the 1960s — accustomed to watching the show on tiny TV screens, often in black and white — this would have been amazing. 

    Star Trek is… pitch. $1. This is perhaps the most important document in Star Trek history — and you don’t have to pay a buck for it. Read about it and download a PDF here.

    Star Trek scripts. $505 for every episode and variant. In the days before Chrissie’s Transcripts Site put all the Star Trek dialogue online, this would have been a Holy Grail of collecting. Before streaming and Blu-ray, we had reruns that were always chopped up to make room for more commercials, the James Blish adaptations that often differed from the screened version, and the Fotonovels that were great but often changed the dialogue. To have the actual scripts would have been wonderful.

    How much for one of everything?

    I added it up. A well-heeled Star Trek fan back in the day could buy one of everything for $554.50. That’s the best version of each item: six issues of the newsletter, all three sets of the two-color decals, all three seasons of the scripts, including the first and final drafts from season three, etc. 

    That’s the cost at the time. In today’s dollars? I can’t say how accurate inflation-calculation sites are, but two seemingly reputable ones (Morgan Friedman and the US Inflation Calculator) say we’re looking at about $4,800 in 2024 dollars.

    That’s a fair bit of money but, if I could use the light-speed breakaway factor to slingshot back to 1969, would I spend that much on Mr. Roddenberry’s mail-order store? You bet I would. 

    Also, my thanks to Florida’s Steven Whitaker for holding on to his copy of the catalog — numerous coffee-mug rings and all — so that I could buy it on eBay years later. He completed the order form but apparently never actually purchased his portraits, decals, insignia, postcards and film clips, so I hope he attended one of the early conventions and grabbed some great stuff.

  • The last-minute Roddenberry rewrite that elevated Balance of Terror

    The last-minute Roddenberry rewrite that elevated Balance of Terror

    Captain Kirk is fond of a good speech. All the adventure in Return to Tomorrow hinges on his inspirational words in the briefing room: “Risk…risk is our business. That’s what this starship is all about. That’s why we’re aboard her.” 

    A similarly critical moment is brought to life in Balance of Terror when Kirk confides in McCoy during the standoff with the Romulan Commander. It’s a smaller and more private moment than the other speeches, and a rare glimpse into the inner life of the usually self-confident captain.

    I wish I were on a long sea voyage somewhere. Not too much deck tennis, no frantic dancing. And no responsibilities. 

    Why me? I look around that bridge, and I see the men waiting for me to make the next move — and Bones, what if I’m wrong? 

    It is one of the best scenes in all of Star Trek. The captain, at a critical moment when a poor decision could lead to the loss of his ship and a catastrophic rise in tensions with an old enemy, confides his fear and insecurity to one of his closest friends. McCoy’s reassurance hits just the right note, and Kirk returns to a hushed and darkened bridge to once again make the next move. 

    That scene was filmed on Tuesday, July 26, 1966, according to both Memory Alpha and These are the Voyages, and it was penned by Gene Roddenberry only the day before. The handwritten change was dated July 25. Writer Paul Schneider’s last script, dated July 22, 1966, had Kirk say: 

    Why, Bones?… I’m a Starship captain… This is a decision for diplomats, not one man! How can I decide if we risk starting a war… risk millions of lives.   

    A page from the script for Balance of Terror dated July 25, 1966  and showing Gene Roddenberry's handwritten changes to Kirk's speech to McCoy.

    Here’s the thing: had that speech been left unchanged, the story would have played out the same and the episode would still be considered a classic. But Roddenberry’s version showed a much greater understanding of the character and of the burden laid on him. The commitment to detail showcased by this small, non-plot scene is one reason Star Trek holds its audience when just about every other ’60s show has faded into the ether. 

    Reuse the best material

    This scene is a direct call back to Captain Pike in The Cage. Following the death of three crew members on Rigel VII, he too is doubting himself and he, like Kirk, confides in the ship’s doctor in the privacy of his cabin. The scene Roddenberry wrote in 1964 worked beautifully then and worked just as well when he borrowed the idea two years later.  

    JJ Abrams’ Star Trek Beyond made the same play. Kirk is again with McCoy, questioning the choices he has made, but he has much less cause to feel insecure and the scene is a pale imitation.

    It was not unusual for Roddenberry to rewrite scripts, as in Balance of Terror. He did it so often and to such an extent that writers routinely complained and many had pseudonyms ready to go. The story credit on A Private Little War is “Jud Crucis,” for example, a take on “Jesus Crucified” that Don Ingalls adopted to protest Roddenberry’s changes. 

    A screen cap of the end credit for A Private Little War, showing the story was written by Jud Crucis.

    But those rewrites were often magic. That scene in Balance of Terror lasts less than 90 seconds and yet it gives a world of insight into the captain. The episode would still be great without it, but less so. 

    Postscript

    The back of the Journey to Babel VHS package, showing Mark Lenard's autograph.

    Mark Lenard was a guest at the 1989 Toronto Trek convention, and I guess he didn’t charge much for autographs because I could afford to get three items signed: a Star Trek III 8×10, the convention program book and, my favourite, a VHS copy of Journey to Babel.

    At his talk, the only question I could think to ask was: “Did the Romulan Commander ever have a name in the script?” He looked at me blankly for a second and then replied: “No, he was just called ‘Commander.’”

    Different versions of the script and the memos on the episode confirm Lenard’s answer. It is strange the Romulan was denied a name, but perhaps it was done to emphasize that being a commander was what he was, and not just what he did.

    Postscript the second

    An interesting side note: Roddenberry borrowed the deck-tennis idea. Paul Schneider had McCoy speaking some of those lines in a script dated July 20. Roddenberry deleted the sentence and then a few days later gave those words to the captain, and added his moment of self doubt.

  • What did AMT get for building the Galileo? And how much does a shuttlecraft cost?

    What did AMT get for building the Galileo? And how much does a shuttlecraft cost?

    You may have heard that model company AMT built the shuttlecraft Galileo exterior, the interior set and the miniature used for filming in exchange for the right to produce one or more consumer kits, but many sources are vague or incorrect about which models came out of that deal. As I wrote in an early post on this site: “Some sources say the deal was to produce the Klingon D7 model, others say the Enterprise; Matt Jefferies’ brother Richard claimed in his book Beyond the Clouds that the deal covered both the Enterprise and the Galileo models.”

    Even Richard, however, was fuzzy on the specifics. The truth, according to Desilu documents from 1966, is that AMT’s Galileo construction work netted it the right to produce only the Enterprise model kit.

    A photo of the box for the 1983 AMT Star Trek Enterprise model
    The 1983 reissue AMT Enterprise

    A memo from Edwin Perlstein, Desilu’s Director of Business Affairs, dated August 2, 1966, informed producer Bob Justman that the licensing deal had been finalized. 

    I have confirmed with Don Beebe of AMT that they will be proceeding to build the Galileo Seven exterior and interior and will try to deliver by a deadline date of September 6 for the interior and September 12 for the exterior. 

    As I indicated before, our deal was consummated because we offered and they accepted the U.S.S. Enterprise as a model deal.

    A September 1967 article in Popular Mechanics identifies Beebe as the manager of AMT’s Speed and Custom Division in Phoenix, where the Galileo interior and exterior were constructed. The shooting miniature was probably built there as well.

    $24,000 for a shuttlecraft

    A separate letter from Perlstein, also sent on August 2, 1966, communicated the details of the agreement to Lou Mindling of Licensing Corporation of America, which handled official Star Trek licensing. 

    Perlstein said AMT had set the construction cost of the Galileo exterior and the interior set at $24,000. AMT would build those and the shooting model and pay LCA royalties of 5% plus a $3,000 advance. 

    In a separate deal, AMT would also be permitted to sell Galileo model kits. That deal was worth a royalty of 5% of sales, with 60% going to Desilu and the rest to LCA.

    Union considerations

    The letter then gets specific about the final assembly of the Galileo, as that work needed to be done by union members.  

    Because of the Local #44 problem, the hardware such as seats, instrument panel, etc. will be unassembled and will be assembled at Desilu by Local #44 personnel. This cost of installation by Local #44 employees will be absorbed by Desilu.

    $650 for the shooting model

    A follow-up letter from Perlstein to AMT’s Beebe on September 14, 1966, adds the interesting fact that AMT estimated the cost to build the shooting miniature at $650. It also stated that LAC had dropped its request for a $3,000 advance on the Enterprise sales.

    One million model kits

    More than a year later, we get a sales update in a memo from Bob Justman to Gene Roddenberry. Writing on October 19, 1967, Justman said of the Enterprise kit:

    I have it on reliable information that the “STAR TREK” Model Kit will sell more than a million copies within its first year of production… All I know is that the machine which turns out the plastic parts for the kit goes continually 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and AMT is rushing another machine into production, so that they can keep up with the demand.

    Despite having the rights to the Galileo, the shuttlecraft kit was not released until 1974. I do not know the reason for the delay, but Justman was probably correct when he said in that same 1967 memo that “My personal feeling is that pretty soon AMT will be sorry they did not undertake the Galileo Model Kit.”

    The misconceptions around the licensing specifics are, admittedly, minor details, but these documents are an interesting glimpse into the very early days of TV and movie marketing. In so many ways, Star Trek and its fans forged a path that other franchises would follow. 

    Justman ends his memo with a lament that would be validated a decade later by the success of the Star Wars toys:

    Just imagine what aggressive merchandising could have done for the show and for the studio!

    Postscript

    Doing some reading for this piece, I discovered Memory’s Alpha’s AMT page had misspelled Perlstein’s name as “Pearlstein.” I have corrected that.

  • Before VCRs, we had the Fotonovels. And they were glorious

    Before VCRs, we had the Fotonovels. And they were glorious

    The serial number of the USS Reliant is NCC-1864. I’ve known that since 1984, when my family got a VCR and I could pause a rented copy of The Wrath of Khan. Pausing let me study details, and that was a game changer. Soon I was recording TOS repeats and taking 90 minutes to play and pause my way through the episodes.

    I had a similar experience years earlier in 1979, when I discovered the Star Trek Fotonovels. These were essentially graphic novels that used episode images instead of drawings. Created by Mandala Productions and published by Bantam Books, 12 were released between 1977 and 1979, with one episode per book. I bought my first one at Bakka in Toronto, and grabbing one whenever I had a few dollars is one of my favourite collecting experiences.

    You could linger on an image, examine the bridge and see the relative positions of the crew, look at the buttons on the consoles, note that a crewmember had a tricorder slung on one shoulder. The books were better for images than dialogue, however. The first issue in the series was, inevitably, The City on the Edge of Forever, and this pic from the opening puts words in our captain’s mouth that he never said on screen. 

    An image from Star Trek Fotonovel 1, showing an early bridge scene from The City on the Edge of Forever
    Scotty, from Star Trek Fotonovel 1. The photo is not flattering. He is slouched and appears to be pouting.

    And it’s true that the images weren’t always stellar. This one, for example, is not kind to Scotty.

    Most others, though, are great, and fans like me would often have these books fall apart from hours of use. 

    Image from Fotonovel 1, on the planet with the Guardian of Forever and Kirk and Spock.
    Image from Fotonovel 1, of Kirk and Spock emerging into New York during the Depression.

    “Encounter with an Ellison

    A nice feature of these books was the supplemental material. Issue #1 has a good, albeit sadly brief, interview with Harlan Ellison, who wrote the screenplay on which the episode is based. The interview, conducted by Sandra Cawson (about whom I could find no information), opens with a description of Ellison’s home:

    Harlan Ellison’s home is a calculated fall down a rabbit hole. Every wall scintillating with original paintings by the Italian Campanile, the German Wunderlich, the Japanese Kanemitsu, Leo and Diane Dillon — who do the covers of his books. Every corner is jammed with sculptures and toys and books, my God! the books: 17,000 in a sprawling, many-winged hillside retreat from which pour, every year, books, short stories, essays, reviews, motion-picture scripts and, of course, award-winning teleplays. 

    In a remark designed to tell you she had heard of Ellison’s gruff manner, Cawson writes: “To my surprise and delight, I found Ellison to be outgoing, charming, hospitable and prepared to answer my most prying questions.” As Ellison probably had approval rights on the resulting interview, this may have been more of his own world building.   

    The screen version of City was very different from Ellison’s script (my piece on the beautiful IDW graphic novel goes into those changes) and he was never shy about promoting his version as the superior story. In the interview, he said:

    You must understand that working in television can be a singularly crippling and brutalizing thing for the creative spirit, particularly if a writer perceives himself as something more than merely a hack or a creative typist who is helping to fill network airtime in order to sell new cars and deodorants. So a writer who cares about his work puts in small touches, special scenes, lines of enriching dialogue, that give him his reason for writing it. Almost all of those touches were excised in the name of straight action sequences. Their loss diminished the value of the script enormously.

    This is the writer of the episode slamming the story you just paid money to own. It was my first exposure to Ellison’s take on the episode, and at the time I had no idea what he meant. True to form, the interview ended with:

    Sandra: Thank you. It’s been peculiar.

    Harlan: And thank you. Yes, hasn’t it?

    The Star Trek Quiz

    Ten of the 12 Fotonovels also included a quiz. (The exceptions are numbers six and seven.) Even as a kid, these questions were too easy.

    The 10 questions from the Star Trek Quiz in Fotonovel 1

    Here are the answers. I will cover the other Fotonovels in future posts.

    The answers to the quiz

  • Pain on screen and in real life: Diamond Select’s Devil in the Dark diorama

    Pain on screen and in real life: Diamond Select’s Devil in the Dark diorama

    I usually write about unique or rare collectibles on this site, and there are many I have yet to cover, but looking around my Star Trek room for post inspiration I was struck by the accuracy and attention to detail in Diamond Select’s The Devil in the Dark diorama. 

    Also, as it always does, looking at the scene on my shelf reminded me of a terrible time in William Shatner’s life, and of a behind-the-scenes story that illustrates both his professionalism and annoying sense of humour. 

    Behind-the-scenes TOS history 

    Like the company’s Space Seed diorama, this piece can be assembled to present one of two scenes: Spock standing and pointing his phaser at the Horta or a kneeling figure, grimacing in pain during the mindmeld.   

    The cover of William Shatner's Star Trek Memories book, with Captain Kirk on the cover

    I chose the latter because it’s a pivotal moment in the episode and because Shatner tells an interesting story about filming it in his book Star Trek Memories. He first names this episode as his favourite — “Exciting, thought-provoking and intelligent, it contained all of the ingredients that made up our very best Star Treks” — and then adds: “None of that stuff qualifies it as my favourite.” He explained:

    Early in the second day of shooting this episode, I got a phone call that told me my father had died… The grief is long since gone, and just the joy of having known him and loved him and of knowing that he loved me remains. But at that moment in time, the pain was awful. My father had died.

    He died in Miami, and…no matter how we juggled flights, there was just no way for me to avoid having to wait about five hours before I could get to Miami out of Los Angeles airport. It was almost lunchtime by the time my travel arrangements were finally firming up, and… I can remember hearing Gregg Peters, an A.D., saying ‘We’re going to break for lunch then shut down for the rest of the day. Everybody go home, we’ll not shoot today. Bill is leaving.’ And I said to Gregg, ‘Please don’t do that, my plane doesn’t leave until six, and I don’t know what I’ll do with myself for these remaining hours if I’m not here. Please, let’s continue to shoot.

    An hour later, after we broke for lunch and after the tears and the anguish, we started shooting what we’d been rehearsing all morning… And even though I really can’t remember most of the day’s details anymore, the one thing that I recall perfectly and that I’ll never forget is the closeness that my friend Leonard had toward me. Not just emotionally, but physically as well. I mean, I’ve seen film with elephants that support the sick and the dying with their bodies, and Leonard somehow always seemed physically close to me.

    Our cinematographer, Jerry Finnerman, whose father had also recently passed away, stayed close, too. And together, they kind of herded around me, assuring me that there were people close by in case I wanted to talk or just needed a friend. Between Leonard and Jerry, we were able to make it through that awful afternoon, and I was able to fly out that evening to my father, warmed by their love and affection.

    That’s what makes this episode my favorite.

    Shatner’s professionalism is impressive. In the episode, Kirk briefs the security detail before sending them into the tunnels to seek the monster and, according to Marc Cushman’s These are the Voyages, season 1, that is one of the scenes Shatner insisted on shooting before his flight. Cushman quotes actor Eddie Paskey: “I didn’t know at the time that his father had just passed away, and, as far as I knew, no one else on the set knew it.” No one there and no one watching the episode could see that Shatner had been weeping just before the cameras rolled.  

    A scene from the Star Trek episode The Devil in the Dark, in which Captain Kirk is briefing two security guards on the search for the Horta.
    Eddie Paskey (right) after Shatner got the bad news (TrekCore)

    Shatner continues the story:

    As I flew off to my dad’s service, the crew went ahead and shot the scene where Spock mind-melds with the Horta. Now, as you know…it’s in great pain. So, of course, as Spock taps into its mind, he too experiences the creature’s anguish. With that in mind, he gets very emotional and yells out something like ‘Pain! PAIN!!’ Still, by the time I got back to the set, this was all in the can and I had no chance to see it.

    When Shatner returned, the first task was to film Kirk’s reaction shots. He asked that Nimoy replay the scene, so his responses would be appropriate. 

    I kept pleading with Leonard until he finally gave in to my request, went over to the Horta costume and got ready to run the scene for me, at which point I said to him ‘Now Leonard, do this thing full out for me, will ya? Don’t just say pain, pain, let me really hear it. Do it for me!’ So now Leonard sighed, took a moment to prepare, and then launched into a full bore mind-meld.

    “PA-A-A-A-A-A-A-IN!’ he howled. “Oh, PAIN, PAAAAAAAAIN!!!’

    At which point I yelled, ‘Jesus Christ! Get that Vulcan an Aspirin!” 

    The crew broke up laughing, Leonard shook his head at me in disgust, and all at once I felt a whole lot better.

    Shatner was dealing with a lot and probably needed humour to get through his day, but he admitted in a 2016 article in the Daily Mail that Nimoy was hurt by the prank, and he details a very different crowd reaction:

    When the time came for the camera to shoot my reactions, I asked him to replay the scene, which he obligingly did. He didn’t rush it — he felt the emotion and cried out from the depths of his soul: ‘Pain! Pain! Pain!’

    I went for the cheap joke and yelled, ‘Hey, someone get this guy an Aspirin!’ Then I waited for a laugh that never came.

    Leonard was absolutely furious. He thought I’d set him up for ridicule. He stalked off the set but confronted me later, telling me that he thought I was ‘a real son-of-a-bitch.’

    My apology must have sounded hollow because he didn’t say a word to me that wasn’t in the script for at least a week.

    Great value

    Diamond Select’s depiction of this scene is really good, with excellent attention to detail. The package contains two heads for Spock, two sets of hands, and two tricorders, one with the top flipped open and the other closed, because Spock’s tricorder is open when they first encounter the creature but closed as he approaches for the meld. The Horta’s wound can also be hidden or visible.   

    The packaging, however, is not quite as accurate. There is a notable error in the photo on the back of the box.

    These dioramas are often available quite inexpensively. I paid C$15 for it at Hamilton Comic Con 2019 because the box was a little damaged. It’s an excellent piece that tells two great stories — one on screen, one behind it.

  • Star Trek as Canadian content

    Star Trek as Canadian content

    Make a list of the people most responsible for Star Trek’s conception and early development. Roughly, that list would be Gene Roddenberry, Gene Coon, DC Fontana, Samuel Peeples, Matt Jefferies, Herb Solow and Robert Justman. They are all American.

    But what they created is Canadian on a fundamental level. That idea was new to me and — once pointed out — obvious. 

    Sawyer

    I love Star Trek for many reasons, paramount of which is its optimistic view of the future, but there was always an element I couldn’t quite identify. I recently sat down with one of the world’s foremost science-fiction novelists, Robert J. Sawyer, to discuss Boarding the Enterprise, the Star Trek book he edited with David Gerrold. It’s a fascinating and unique book and you should read my article on it and then go buy it.

    During that interview, Rob, who is Canadian, identified the aspect of my fandom that had eluded me.

    I looked at…Star Trek first from a Canadian perspective. That peace is better than war, that multiculturalism is better than uniformity, and to me Star Trek was so Canadian in most of its vision. The rhetoric that you would hear was what Canada was supposed to be.

    Rob is right. The ideals of Star Trek, the heart, the aspiration, are absolutely consistent with the best elements of Canadian society. Neither I nor Rob would suggest Canada is a utopia. We have gun violence and racial problems and poverty, but it is fair to say that we suffer those ills to a far lesser degree than do most countries. 

    Cultural mosaic

    Although we don’t use the term as much anymore, Canada views itself as a cultural mosaic, a whole composed of pieces that are themselves distinct and unique. This contrasts to the melting-pot concept, in which being American means being the same. 

    Plato’s Stepchildren is about power imbalances and what the mighty do to those outside of the norm. Not the best episode, it nonetheless contains among the most Star Trek of lines. Kirk tells Alexander: “…where I come from, size, shape, or color makes no difference…” Alexander doesn’t have to be like everyone else. He can be both different and valid.

    A screencap from the Star Trek episode Plato's Stepchildren, in which Captain Kirk is speaking with Alexander, a character and an actor who is a little person, and who's stature is germane to the episode.
    All episode photos from TrekCore

    Infinite diversity

    The Vulcan concept of infinite diversity in infinite combinations was introduced in Is There In Truth No Beauty? and while the IDIC symbol was created for a real-world commercial reason, its sentiment is very much in keeping with the philosophy of Star Trek

    Miranda Jones’ parting words to Spock make the same value statement as Kirk’s to Alexander: “The glory of creation is in its infinite diversity.”

    We’re not going to kill…today

    Kirk is often presented with the opportunity to take ostensibly justified revenge on an enemy. The Horta in The Devil in the Dark, Balok in The Corbomite Maneuver and the Gorn of Arena are all at his mercy — yet he stays his hand. Even the vanquishing of Apollo in Who Mourns For Adonais? is an occasion for regret rather than a fist-pump of victory. As Rob said, time and again Star Trek tells us that preserving life is better than taking it. 

    A screencap from the Star Trek episode Arena, in which Kirk has defeated the lizard-like Gorn in combat and kneels over the unconscious foe. Kirk holds a sharp rock but is hesitating before killing his adversary.

    The group that fashioned Star Trek in its early days were all American, and yet what they created uses ideals drawn from the Canadian example. Think of the Federation itself: a collaborative organization founded by very different people which promotes exploration, peace, and the common good, and which sends its ships out into the void to meet more people and invite them to contribute to the group. It is a cultural mosaic writ large.

    A scene from the Star Trek episode Is There In Truth No Beauty? Spock, standing at the transporter console, is wearing the Vulcan IDIC necklace.