Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)

Star Trek: The Motion Picture continues the TV series that ran on NBC from 1966-69. Suffering abysmal ratings in its initial run, Paramount sold the show to syndication, where it developed a strongly devoted audience in many markets in the United States and many other countries around the world.  By 1972, talks began between series creator Gene Roddenberry and NBC on resurrecting the property as a TV movie, with an option to release it into theaters in foreign markets. Paramount, who had rights to the “Star Trek” property,  nixed the idea because of the costs of rebuilding sets, costumes, and props for a one-off movie. NBC declined to buy the four “Star Trek” TV movies Paramount required. Paramount didn’t counteroffer; they were making a killing in syndication, and a new “Star Trek” series was costly competition for its audience.

Side negotiations found Roddenberry and Filmation re-launching “Star Trek” into an Emmy award-winning animated series in 1973, with the original cast providing the voices for their cartoon counterparts. By 1974, “Star Trek” was so in-demand that Paramount took up Roddenberry’s idea of continuing the series as a movie, but one for theaters. According to Roddenberry, there was an initial desire by the studio to replace the cast with more well-known actors, but he convinced them to go with the established cast fans already loved. Without bankable stars, Paramount would only budget a modest $2 million. Celebrity cameos would provide star power. Recreating the sets for a one-off movie was pricey, but would be worth it when re-using those sets again for a return of the series to television or future theatrical sequels.

Roddenberry completed his first screenplay draft in 1975, titled, “The God Thing.” The crew of the USS Enterprise encounters God, turning out to be an alien being with God-like powers.  Paramount rejected it, possibly because of anti-religious overtones. Roddenberry sought to publish the story as a novel but never finished it, though the idea would re-emerge in Star Trek V.

Paramount hired other science fiction writers to come up with their ideas, including Ray Bradbury, Harlan Ellison, Theodore Sturgeon, and Robert Silverberg.  Paramount rejected them all, claiming the ideas were fine for TV but not worthy of a motion picture. Roddenberry surmised that Paramount brass couldn’t comprehend sci-fi would grab traditional moviegoers. This became a puzzle for the writers: giving audiences everything they enjoyed about the TV show, without seeming like the TV show.

In 1976, they hired the London-based writing team of Allan Scott and Chris Bryant for an all-new screenplay. The project would be entitled, “Star Trek: Planet of the Titans,” where the Enterprise crew goes back in time to a technologically advanced planet’s prehistoric days, becoming something akin to Titans in Greek mythology. The ending involved Spock showing primitives about fire, giving the aliens a leap forward toward civilization. As William Shatner’s contract with Paramount had expired and it was unknown whether he’d return, Kirk would be “missing” for the story purpose.

Paramount rejected the screenplay as pretentious and something the public would not come out to see. Phil Kaufman was brought in as director for the $8 million picture, revising the Scott/Bryant script to include Kirk when Shatner signed on. Kaufman introduced big ideas like having Kirk die at the beginning of the film and get brought back to life at the end, leaving Spock as the central protagonist of the story. Kaufman envisioned an epic with psychological underpinnings, wanting Toshiro Mifune as the leader of the Klingons. Production design began without an approved script, bringing in Ken Adam, known for his work on the James Bond films, for preliminaries that would go on for several months in London.

Paramount canceled Kaufman’s revision, souring on making a film. Star Wars was on the verge of coming out, and its success or failure was read into as bad for Star Trek either way. A failure would show that science fiction-based films don’t have mainstream appeal. A success would steal Star Trek‘s theatrical thunder. They concluded that “Star Trek” concepts worked better on television than as a big-screen blockbuster. They scrapped the film to launch an all-new TV series with as many of the original crew that would want to return, plus some new characters to fill in the blanks. “Star Trek II” would be the flagship series for a proposed fourth network. Every Saturday, there would be a new episode of “Star Trek,” followed by an original movie. Paramount would expand shows to other nights as the audience grew.

Leonard Nimoy held out, leary of the grind of a weekly TV show. Nimoy was amenable to appear in the movie because he respected Kaufman’s vision, especially if Spock were the central role. When it fell apart, Nimoy agreed to appear in Kaufman’s 1978 Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake. Some interpreted Nimoy’s reticence as dissatisfaction with playing Spock. His 1975 autobiography’s title, “I Am Not Spock,” fueled the feeling he didn’t want with the role anymore.  Nimoy was in a feud with Paramount over merchandising his image without compensation and wanted it addressed. He was also committed to his starring appearance in “Equus” on Broadway, making him unavailable. Paramount offered Nimoy a small presence in the two-hour pilot and a recurring part in a limited number of episodes, but he declined.

Roddenberry wanted to move on, feeling that “Star Trek” was more than just Spock. He Wouldn’t stand for actors calling the shots on where things go with the franchise. A new Vulcan character called Lt. Xon would be developed, played by David Gautreaux, and a female crew member, a Deltan played by model and 1965’s Miss India, Persis Khambatta. First Officer Willard Decker would be cast with someone with lead star potential if things didn’t work out with William Shatner. If needed, Roddenberry had ideas for phasing out all of the original “Star Trek” series actors for younger and cheaper talent.

Roddenberry said he wanted more nuanced storylines, depicting the characters’ private lives and relationships. The new TV series, under the complete creative control of series creator Gene Roddenberry, would carry the title of “Star Trek: Phase II,” and would premiere with a two-hour pilot episode, chosen among the thirteen scripts commissioned. They opted to flesh out the episode scripted by Alan Dean Foster entitled, “In Thy Image,” because it had the novelty of the crew being on a future Earth, something the original show didn’t show.

“In Thy Image” was an adaptation of a script concept called “Robots Return,” written by Roddenberry for “Genesis II,” his failed attempt at another TV series in 1973. “Robots Return” involved sophisticated computers left on one of Jupiter’s moons that evolved into a robotic lifeform that traveled to Earth searching for the “God” that gave it life. Foster would change this to a satellite searching for its creator: “NASA.” Harold Livingston became the creative producer despite never seeing the original show, helping develop the scripts. He liked the idea for Foster’s story, but his writing was not up to snuff. Due to time constraints and difficulty hiring writers he wanted, Livingston developed Foster’s treatment into a feature-length pilot to himself.

With sets built and scripts written, it looked like full steam ahead at this point, until the Paramount network idea lost traction when member-stations and advertisers expressed disinterest. Paramount contemplated selling the movie pilot to one of the networks, hoping it might get picked up as a series. Still, the networks resisted Paramount for trying to launch a rival network. They reconsidered making a “Star Trek” feature film as the best path moving forward.

The notion to return to a feature film resulted from the success of Close Encounters of the Third Kind in November 1977, proving that sci-fi interested the public beyond Star Wars. Paramount now felt that they had the best property for the next potential blockbuster with Star Trek. As “In Thy Image” was the only feature-length script that had approval, it would become the screenplay for Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

A director with a big-screen experience was wanted for the theatrical film. Among the names on the shortlist, Roddenberry preferred two-time Oscar-winning ‘Best Director’ Robert Wise, sensing good rapport after appearing together on a panel at a sci-fi/fantasy film festival several years back.  Wise was mostly unfamiliar with the show, getting up to speed after procuring some old video cassettes. He liked some it; other aspects he deemed mediocre.

Wise wanted tightening of the character relationships and more explicit motivations for their actions. Wise’s daughter and son-in-law, who were “Star Trek” fans, told him that Spock is essential for the success of the series and would suffer without him. Wise had executive producer Jeffrey Katzenberg meet with Nimoy, who was performing in “Equus” on Broadway between seasons hosting his new syndicated TV series, “In Search of…”. Katzenberg convinced Nimoy of Wise’s vision and the importance of not letting someone else take over the Enterprise’s Vulcan role. Nimoy signed up partly he respected Wise as a filmmaker, and partly because of his affection for Spock. But, more importantly, Paramount agreed to financial compensation, reportedly a sum of $2.5 million, including his salary for the film.

Unfortunately, Roddenberry’s latest revision removed Spock altogether, making it a challenge to without a complete overhaul. In Roddenberry’s next rewrite, Spock would only appear at the beginning, returning to his home planet to remove all traces of human emotion and going mad from the pressure. Nimoy felt no one would want to see this and privately told Wise that he didn’t want to be in the movie if his character doesn’t have anything to contribute. Paramount viewed Gene Roddenberry’s new script as clunky and trite. Responsibility to incorporate Spock went once again to Harold Livingston.

Livingston detested Roddenberry’s ideas and writing, jettisoning them until he received sole screenplay credit again. The Spock solution involved a prologue on planet Vulcan where Spock fails Kolinahr, a ritual purging of emotions. The Vulcan character meant to replace him, Lt. Commander Sonak, dies, and Spock resumes duties as the science officer of the Enterprise, completing the role intended for Lt. Xon. Because Xon’s character wasn’t integral, there would be an additional “spacewalk” scene added for the climax to give Spock something essential to do. It wasn’t as much as Nimoy hoped, but it was acceptable.

Roddenberry’s new contract barred him from interfering with revisions; he ignored this often, butting heads repeatedly with Livingston. In this way, Roddenberry emulated Admiral Kirk, unwilling to accept being ‘kicked upstairs’ into his executive role, pushing his way into captaining his old ship. Nimoy mediated the script revisions, meeting with Livingston after hours to hammer out changes. Revisions seemed to come by the hour, requiring timestamps so that the actors and crew would know which one to utilize. The situation grew intolerable; Livingston quit in December of 1977.

Dennis Lynton Clark handled revisions to get Spock incorporated. Clark got along with Roddenberry worse than Livingston, starting on the wrong foot because of Roddenberry’s penchant for playing practical jokes. The one that played on Clark resulted in a meltdown and resentment from which he never recovered. After three tense months, Livingston returned to complete the script, claiming it had obviously been rewritten several times, none for the better. He would get the script back into shape if Roddenberry was kept away.

Roddenberry continued intervening, replacing script pages Livingston would submit with his own. Livingston quit multiple times due to Roddenberry’s meddling, but higher-ups convinced him to return through assurances and more money. The two writers ceased to be on speaking terms. Roddenberry was finally banned from further disruptions, but got revenge, signing with Simon & Schuster (owned by the same parent company as Paramount, Gulf & Western) to write the novelization, much to Livingston’s consternation.

The final plot: Fast approaching Earth is a cloudlike alien entity that has destroys all that approaches its nebulous form.  The not-quite-fully-refitted Enterprise is the closest vessel available in its approach toward Earth. Admiral Kirk pushes his way to take over the mission over the man he picked for his successor as the captain, Willard Decker.  Kirk makes every attempt to reason with this living entity, who goes by the moniker, V’ger.  V’ger abducts the Enterprise’s navigator, Ilia, who then returns in a mechanical form, giving voice to the entity.  The bad news: V’ger wants to rid the Earth of all the carbon-based life forms, effectively ending life as we know it for everyone on the planet unless Kirk and company can save the day.

Production began in August 1978, bringing back many contributors from the original show. The new costume designer, Bob Fletcher, replaced the TV show’s uniforms with pastel-colored, New Age versions he felt was in keeping with the cerebral nature of the story. The cast hated the design of these “space pajamas” fiercely, which outfitted the crew as if they expected to cosplay at both a “Star Trek” Convention and a Renaissance Faire. The skin-tight costumes made it difficult to sit; actors couldn’t use the restroom without accompaniment from someone in the costume department due to having a zipper only in the back.

Advertisement specialists Robert Abel and Associates were hired for special effects. Abel estimated the budget for effects at $4-6 million. They felt that the filmmakers asked for effects that were laughably preposterous and opted for designs they felt worked better.  Paramount approved the new designs, despite extending the budget with further delays. Red flags were raised when Abel’s later estimates approached $16 million. Paramount brought in special effects adviser Douglas Trumbull, who worked with Wise on The Andromeda Strain, to oversee Abel’s work, adding John Dykstra to support. Abel spent much of the initial $6 million on a fancy studio and equipment that they used for side work. With nothing usable made for the film, Abel was fired, and Trumbull would have to deliver the visual effects from scratch in a very short timeframe.

As this was going on, tension developed between Paramount and composer Jerry Goldsmith. Paramount wanted the score to emulate John Williams to extend its appeal. Roddenberry also made a push to incorporate the TV show’s music, feeling fans would be disappointed at not hearing Alexander Courage’s legendary theme. Goldsmith found these requests absurd and walked off of the set. Under great pressure to complete the picture on time, Paramount called Goldsmith back, promising he could do things his way. Goldsmith’s score would become iconic, used as the theme to the TV series, “Star Trek: The Next Generation”.

Paramount removed budget restraints, running 24-hour shifts to deliver the film by the hard deadline of December 7 to avoid paying back $30 million in guarantees to its exhibitors.  Expenses skyrocketed to a massive $46 million, four times the cost of Star Wars, just behind Cleopatra for the most expensive Hollywood production of all time. Signs pointed toward impending disaster, as the last-minute completion meant no sneak previews to generate buzz. This for a film based on a canceled TV show that had no box-office stars. Paramount fueled a $9 million budget but had to curb national campaigns. Anti-blind bidding laws prevented the film from being exhibited until December 21 in fifteen states.

Fans weren’t dissuaded from seeing the first live-action “Star Trek” in ten years. It amassed $11 million in its opening weekend, breaking the record set by Superman the year before. Opening in fifteen new states on December 21, the third weekend boasted a $12 million weekend. All told, the film would garner over $82 million in the United States with other countries adding another $57 million for a total of $139 million. Of the Star Trek films featuring the original cast, it sold the most tickets overall and has stayed the highest-grossing in the franchise when adjusting for inflation. That doesn’t include the merchandise hotly selling during the Christmas season.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture received mixed reviews upon its release, the worst knock being that it is boring – dazzling visuals and music that fell short of Star Wars in excitement and wandered too close to the ponderous, sterile nature of 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Lengthy effects sequences offer little action, including an endurance-testing five-minute sequence showing Kirk’s approach to the Enterprise. The film earned unflattering nicknames: “Star Trek: The Slow-Motion Picture”, “Star Trek: The Motionless Picture”, etc. Much of the “action” consists merely of members of the Enterprise crew staring with mouths agape at what they’re seeing on the viewscreen as the Enterprise passes through the massive spaceship until reaching V’ger’s inner sanctum. The producers felt that they had spent so much on these visual effects, they needed to show what they paid for, even if the pacing of the film heavily suffers.

The story also has a 2001 feel, as humans fight a rogue artificial intelligence.  It lacks the immediacy of the conflicts in other Star Trek movies. Discovery propels this story, trading action sequences for lengthy moments of the crew staring in awe at the large, nebulous structure that comprises V’ger’s strange architecture.  Contrivances are injected in a way that dumbs the story down, especially in the crucial climax of the film, which feels rushed and a tad hokey.

Some fans gripe about the film’s derivativeness to several of the episodes of the TV show. The plot resembles “The Changeling”, where a space probe originally launched from Earth begins to threaten all life.  Elements also come from “The Doomsday Machine” (a machine out to destroy planets), and, from the animated series, “One of Our Planets is Missing,”(a giant space cloud eats planets, requiring the Enterprise to intercept before it kills millions.) Similar plots in other episodes show that many of the ideas in “Star Trek” are often cannibalized. The crew of the Enterprise frequently find God, then realize they are dealing with an alien, robot, child, or sentient computer. The Motion Picture seems of this mold.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture is neither as bad as its reputation, nor is it as mind-blowing as the creators tried to make it.  Of all of the Star Trek films, it’s is the closest to pure science fiction, and therefore, the least accessible for those wanting action and thrills.  Robert Wise’s methodical approach separates it in tone, tempo, and themes from its sequels. It uses older film textures, epic-film tropes (the theatrical cut has an overture), classic editing style, gauzy lighting effects, and an anachronistic reverence for outer space. Viewers of the series often treat it as a standalone effort, not in keeping with the overall series. Some choose to ignore it, while others have come to admire it because of its distinction from its follow-ups. For those with only a passing interest in Star Trek, I recommend starting with its follow-up, The Wrath of Khan. For die-hard fans, start here; it’s the one with the original crew that most resembles the television series. Like the carbon-based crew of the Enterprise, it’s imperfect and comes close to disaster, but, in the end, it succeeds at the job it was intended to do. 

  • Star Trek: The Motion Picture exists in three forms: the theatrical release, an extended version that injected about twelve minutes of previously excised scenes to fill a three-hour slot for a network television showing put on home video in 1983, and a Director’s Edition re-edit made for DVD in 2001. Wise claimed that the theatrical release was more of a rough cut rushed out to make the premiere date and that the Director’s Edition is what he would have made if he had the proper time, featuring more character development, better special effects, a new sound mix, and tighter pacing.

Qwipster’s rating: Theatrical: B+ | Director’s Edition: A

MPAA Rated: G (theatrical), PG (Director’s Edition) for brief violence
Running Time: 132 min. (theatrical), 136 min. (director’s edition)

Cast: William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Persis Khambatta, Stephen Collins, DeForest Kelley, James Doohan, George Takei, Walter Koenig, Nichelle Nichols
Director:  Robert Wise
Screenplay: Harold Livingston

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