The Measure of a Man (or Movie)

If this starts to sound like a movie review, that's probably what it is. Brace yourselves :)

Though I am not old enough to have watched the original Star Trek series featuring a chiseled, youthful William Shatner, I have enough passion for the clever academics and adventures of its subsequent sequels. Raised on the legacy of Captain Jean-Luc Picard on "Star Trek: The Next Generation," the grandeur of Captain Janeway of "Star Trek: Voyager, and the classic chemistry between Odo and Quark on "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine"), I was overwhelmed that J.J. Abram's "Star Trek" does not steer away the physicism, humorism, and riddle-ism that made the television series so indulging.

The most pressing criticism Trekkies have for this film is the action. I say, this is ironic. For a series whose mythology is based on the advancement of technology and the exploration of the final frontier, I see no objection as to why J.J. Abrams would not add the element of physicality. The wonders of CGI has given the modern-day cinematic experience the tools to explore every and any realm of the imagination we want; if Gene Roddenberry had such liberty four decades ago, I believe he would have done the same. Writers Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman even go so far as to point this out in the movie, depicted in the scene where Old Spock goes back in time and gives Scotty the formula for warp-speed teleportation. The series will always be physics-based, but to deny that "Star Trek" is also an adventure filled with real characters with real emotions going through real space travel would be to deny the ultimate quest of science.

Action, in itself, is not a meaningless device. Action is derived from behavior; behavior originates from habit - thus, the action in "Star Trek" should not be interpreted as drawing audiences away from the academic intellect of the series, but rather physically pushing the characters to their greatest potential (as well as detriments). The characters drive the story; J.J. Abrams gives Kirk, Spock, Bones, and the rest of the crew room to express themselves in a natural, instinctual, "human" way, thus granting audiences access to greater understanding of each character's depth - thus, shedding more light (as well as questions) about Enterprise. 

My last point is fairly obvious, as it is applicable to even myself. Good movies serve more than just entertainment purposes - they send messages. In the midst of economic crisis and the wake of terrorism, it is important to have hope; Star Trek embodies two. First, hope in ourselves - in our capabilities, in our knowledge, in our strength to know our weaknesses. And second, hope in others - that divisions like race and ideals are irrelevant so long as we believe in solidarity, that new beginnings can come from old endings, and that space - as well as the extent of our humanity - is, in fact, the final frontier.