[9.6/10] Star Trek has hit the “duality of man” theme several times already. It’s not crazy, and it’s a recurring trope in science fiction and fantasy writ large. But the series does seem uniquely fascinated with the notion that as much as we try to civilize ourselves, even to the point where we take to the stars and explore the galaxy, there are certain atavistic parts of who we are that may never truly be cabined, and erupt at inopportune times.
The difference in “Amok Time” is that the impulses are filtered through notions of repression and shame and cultural tradition that give them a different dimension. The episode is far from the first time we’ve seen Spock’s Vulcan detachment rattled, but the context of it changes the stakes, making the episode a commentary on how societies deal with those primitive, biological, unavoidable parts of human nature rather than just human nature itself.
It is at times both sort of adorable and scary how Spock refuses to talk about what’s ailing him in the beginning of the episode. A lifetime of Trek fandom told me pretty early that it was likely the Pon Farr. (And, once again, much of the episode was unwittingly spoiled for me by an episode-length Futurama homage.) But as neat as it is to see the usually staid first officer barely able to restrain himself, as scary as it is to see him throw a bowl of soup or smash a comms terminal, what’s most interesting about what’s come over him in “Amok Time” is how it shows an emotion we’ve never really seen in Spock -- embarrassment.
When Spock has to explain his reasons for seeking a leave of absence to the Vulcan homeworld to Kirk, it has the atmosphere of a young teenager talking to his parents after they found a porno mag under his mattress. Spock is clearly so uncomfortable about all this, and the most interesting tidbit he drops is that Vulcans don’t even talk about this sort of thing among themselves.
It makes sense that a culture devoted to controlling emotion would be a bit skittish and prude when it comes to the birds and the bees. It works as a commentary, especially in the free love Sixties, on the social mores of attraction that were starting to shift. Seeing Spock confront that for himself gives Leonard Nimoy plenty of opportunities to find shades of the character that don’t normally get to bubble to the surface.
It also gives the audience a chance to see Vulcan culture and tradition up close. Perhaps it’s Nimoy’s own Hebrew heritage, or T’Pau’s (Celia Lovsky) “old country” accent, but there was something about Spock bringing his “outlander” friends to a Vulcan ceremony that really resonated with me as a Jewish American. While there were never any fights to the death at my synagogue (that I know of), there was the same sense of ancient tradition intersecting with modern life, the importance of ties to the past to help provide anchor in the future.
There’s also the same sense of bringing people from the outside into it -- your not wanting to overexplain, their sense of wanting to respect your culture but not overstep their bounds, the tricky of balance of doing justice to people who are a not apart of the culture into one of the seminal moments in your life while also doing justice to the rites and rituals of your people that you’re there to observe. “Amok Time” does a good job of making the Vulcan Pon Farr ceremony seem alien, but also real, with its own rhythms and mantras and sense of place within the community.
But what’s interesting about that ritual is both how it’s used as a way to channel and make acceptable those otherwise improper urges -- to dress them up in the mantle of societal order and approbation -- and also how those involved work around that fact. Everything about Vulcan life is ordered, even death and the acts that create life. But T’Pring throws a monkey wrench in all of that by choosing combat rather than marriage, and selecting Kirk as her champion.
It results in one of the better fights of The Original Series. Again, Futurama spoiled for me that the local would choose the outlander to fight, but there’s still the thrill of the two biggest figures in the series locked in combat. Dr. McCoy taking a page out of Romeo and Juliet to find a third option in this fight to the death is a neat trick, and seeing a hormone-mad Spock raging against his best friend is compelling stuff.
It’s a testament to the thin line between those atavistic sides of human (or, rather, Vulcan biology) -- that the deeply rooted desire to procreate is tied to other caveman instincts to fight and fury. But T’Pring uses that confluence of instinctual urges and societal norms to find her own way out. The reveal that she chose Kirk because she loved another Vulcan named Stonn, and by picking Kirk, she would be able to be with Stonn no matter what shows her cleverness. (Seriously, it’s a proto Cersei Lannister-level ploy.) And Spock’s immortal line -- “After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but is often true” -- is a cutting rebuke, a moment of self-reflection, and a universal observation on the fickle nature of those human feelings he tries to suppress.
And yet, the thing that truly cuts through both those raging impulses and the Vulcan veneer is friendship. There may be no more heartwarming and adorable scene in all of Star Trek than shy, awkward Spock asking Kirk and Bones to accompany him to the ceremony because it’s supposed to involve his “best friends.” What takes away Spock’s madness is the belief that he killed his only real confidante. And the cheeriest we’ve ever seen Spock (when he’s not hopped up on spores, at least) is when he realizes, to his surprise, and Kirk is still alive.
Sure, it’s a little cheesy. But in an episode that embraces the inevitable fissures of biological want, the masking of its rougher edges with ritual, the cultural fig leafs placed over desires deemed imprudent, and the loopholes that people find to honor that but have their way regardless, it all gives way to individuals, separated by culture but joined by shared experience, finding understanding, camaraderie, and even joy.
(As an aside, it didn’t really fit anywhere in this review, but we finally saw Chekov in this episode! I loved the Greek Chorus-esque scenes between him and Sulu about constantly having to change the course of the ship. It added some texture and fun to the main story.)
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2017-03-21T20:54:36Z
[9.6/10] Star Trek has hit the “duality of man” theme several times already. It’s not crazy, and it’s a recurring trope in science fiction and fantasy writ large. But the series does seem uniquely fascinated with the notion that as much as we try to civilize ourselves, even to the point where we take to the stars and explore the galaxy, there are certain atavistic parts of who we are that may never truly be cabined, and erupt at inopportune times.
The difference in “Amok Time” is that the impulses are filtered through notions of repression and shame and cultural tradition that give them a different dimension. The episode is far from the first time we’ve seen Spock’s Vulcan detachment rattled, but the context of it changes the stakes, making the episode a commentary on how societies deal with those primitive, biological, unavoidable parts of human nature rather than just human nature itself.
It is at times both sort of adorable and scary how Spock refuses to talk about what’s ailing him in the beginning of the episode. A lifetime of Trek fandom told me pretty early that it was likely the Pon Farr. (And, once again, much of the episode was unwittingly spoiled for me by an episode-length Futurama homage.) But as neat as it is to see the usually staid first officer barely able to restrain himself, as scary as it is to see him throw a bowl of soup or smash a comms terminal, what’s most interesting about what’s come over him in “Amok Time” is how it shows an emotion we’ve never really seen in Spock -- embarrassment.
When Spock has to explain his reasons for seeking a leave of absence to the Vulcan homeworld to Kirk, it has the atmosphere of a young teenager talking to his parents after they found a porno mag under his mattress. Spock is clearly so uncomfortable about all this, and the most interesting tidbit he drops is that Vulcans don’t even talk about this sort of thing among themselves.
It makes sense that a culture devoted to controlling emotion would be a bit skittish and prude when it comes to the birds and the bees. It works as a commentary, especially in the free love Sixties, on the social mores of attraction that were starting to shift. Seeing Spock confront that for himself gives Leonard Nimoy plenty of opportunities to find shades of the character that don’t normally get to bubble to the surface.
It also gives the audience a chance to see Vulcan culture and tradition up close. Perhaps it’s Nimoy’s own Hebrew heritage, or T’Pau’s (Celia Lovsky) “old country” accent, but there was something about Spock bringing his “outlander” friends to a Vulcan ceremony that really resonated with me as a Jewish American. While there were never any fights to the death at my synagogue (that I know of), there was the same sense of ancient tradition intersecting with modern life, the importance of ties to the past to help provide anchor in the future.
There’s also the same sense of bringing people from the outside into it -- your not wanting to overexplain, their sense of wanting to respect your culture but not overstep their bounds, the tricky of balance of doing justice to people who are a not apart of the culture into one of the seminal moments in your life while also doing justice to the rites and rituals of your people that you’re there to observe. “Amok Time” does a good job of making the Vulcan Pon Farr ceremony seem alien, but also real, with its own rhythms and mantras and sense of place within the community.
But what’s interesting about that ritual is both how it’s used as a way to channel and make acceptable those otherwise improper urges -- to dress them up in the mantle of societal order and approbation -- and also how those involved work around that fact. Everything about Vulcan life is ordered, even death and the acts that create life. But T’Pring throws a monkey wrench in all of that by choosing combat rather than marriage, and selecting Kirk as her champion.
It results in one of the better fights of The Original Series. Again, Futurama spoiled for me that the local would choose the outlander to fight, but there’s still the thrill of the two biggest figures in the series locked in combat. Dr. McCoy taking a page out of Romeo and Juliet to find a third option in this fight to the death is a neat trick, and seeing a hormone-mad Spock raging against his best friend is compelling stuff.
It’s a testament to the thin line between those atavistic sides of human (or, rather, Vulcan biology) -- that the deeply rooted desire to procreate is tied to other caveman instincts to fight and fury. But T’Pring uses that confluence of instinctual urges and societal norms to find her own way out. The reveal that she chose Kirk because she loved another Vulcan named Stonn, and by picking Kirk, she would be able to be with Stonn no matter what shows her cleverness. (Seriously, it’s a proto Cersei Lannister-level ploy.) And Spock’s immortal line -- “After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical, but is often true” -- is a cutting rebuke, a moment of self-reflection, and a universal observation on the fickle nature of those human feelings he tries to suppress.
And yet, the thing that truly cuts through both those raging impulses and the Vulcan veneer is friendship. There may be no more heartwarming and adorable scene in all of Star Trek than shy, awkward Spock asking Kirk and Bones to accompany him to the ceremony because it’s supposed to involve his “best friends.” What takes away Spock’s madness is the belief that he killed his only real confidante. And the cheeriest we’ve ever seen Spock (when he’s not hopped up on spores, at least) is when he realizes, to his surprise, and Kirk is still alive.
Sure, it’s a little cheesy. But in an episode that embraces the inevitable fissures of biological want, the masking of its rougher edges with ritual, the cultural fig leafs placed over desires deemed imprudent, and the loopholes that people find to honor that but have their way regardless, it all gives way to individuals, separated by culture but joined by shared experience, finding understanding, camaraderie, and even joy.
(As an aside, it didn’t really fit anywhere in this review, but we finally saw Chekov in this episode! I loved the Greek Chorus-esque scenes between him and Sulu about constantly having to change the course of the ship. It added some texture and fun to the main story.)