Review: 'Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home-The Making of the Film'

The Wrath of Khan may be the best Star Trek film, but The Voyage Home is easily the most lovable. It's the cinematic equivalent of "The Trouble with Tribbles": fun, breezy, a bit silly, and more focused on the dynamics between the crew than matters of galactic gravity. 

I do wish there was a bit more of the Enterprise's crew in John and Maria Jose Tenuto's Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home-The Making of the Film, but this is still a pretty wonderful book that really conveys the film's warm, joyous spirit. The writers provide a clear idea of Leonard Nimoy's sensitive directing techniques, the challenges and triumphs of bringing the film's humpback whales to life, and the key members of the film's crew, most notably Kirk Thatcher, the wunderkind who not only served as associate producer, but also played the punk who gets memorably silenced by Spock and wrote and sang the punk song that so displeases our favorite vulcan.

Review: 'Star Trek: Year Five'

At the beginning of each episode of Star Trek, Captain Kirk informed us that the crew of the starship Enterprise was on a five-year mission to explore strange new worlds and so on. Unfortunately, he and the rest of the gang never got to finish their mission on TV because hostile aliens from the planet NBC aborted it after just three years.

In light of season-three’s high ratio of stinker episodes like “Spock’s Brain” and “Turnabout Intruder”, Star Trek’s early cancellation may have actually been merciful, though there were more tales worth telling in that universe, hence the franchise’s healthy life beyond 1969.

One of the most recent continuations of the Star Trek story returns us to its origins to complete the Enterprise’s original mission. Star Trek: Year Five is a comic series from IDW that began last April, and the groovy thing about this series is how faithful it is to the original series at its best. Like that original, Year Five is the work of multiple writers and multiple directors—or in this case, artists—yet all are dedicated to recreating the Star Trek we know and love in terms of storytelling, characterizations, themes, and visuals. While the art style varies from issue to issue, it never becomes so stylized that we cannot recognize the faces of Shatner, Nimoy, Nichols, and the rest. As soon as Bones orders Kirk to drink brandy on the job in “episode” one (these are episodes, not issues), we are transported right back to the sixties. Fortunately, that period flavor does not extend to its treatment of Uhura, who gets a much bigger role throughout these comics than she did in the original series (Sulu, however, tends to get sidelined).

Review: 'Star Trek: The Book of Lists'

Star Trek was one of the most thoughtful American shows from a pre-Golden Age period when most series didn’t share a single brain between them (I’m looking at you, Gilligan and Jeannie). Nevertheless, you shouldn’t really expect great thoughtfulness from a book with a title like Star Trek: The Book of Lists. Even as far as a book of 100 lists about topics such as “Kirk’s Most Memorable Kisses” and all the times Shatner appeared on screen shirtless goes, Chip Carter’s Book of Lists is pretty simple-minded. Commentary is minimal, and in some cases, non existent, as lists of characters who appeared in mirror universes and time travel episodes consist of nothing but names and titles.

But the nice thing about Star Trek is that it was thoughtful and fun, and while Star Trek: Book of Lists doesn’t try to deliver thoughtfulness, it does a fairly good job of bringing the fun. Lists of props and costumes that were remade and reused from episode to episode, 21^st century devices and technology Star Trek predicted, merchandise, and actors and actresses who appeared on both Star Trek and Batman are a kick. Since the design is image heavy, graphically appealing run downs of the series’ various uniforms and most outré fashions, as well as side by side comparisons of how various aliens were depicted across various Star Trek incarnations, are groovy too. Some of this stuff is even informative. I hadn’t realized the Shari “Lambchop’s Mom” Lewis co-wrote the “Lights of Zetar” episode or that none other than MLK was a Trekkie.

There are some questionable inclusions too, though, as “Assignment: Earth” guest star Teri Garr is erroneously credited as a star of High Anxiety and Ronald Reagan is listed among famous Star Trek fans simply because he once screened The Search for Spock at the White House (he didn’t even like it). However, a photo of the U.S.’s last functional president, Barack Obama, snuggling with Nichelle Nichols and flashing the Vulcan salute is a geeky gas, and that’s really the kind of thing you should be hoping for from a book like Star Trek: The Book of Lists.

31 TV Shows for 31 Days of Halloween Season: Day 11

Series: Thriller

Episode: “The Hungry Glass”, in which vane Donna Douglas becomes so enamored with her own reflection that she is sucked into the glass. All who subsequently stand before her massive collection of mirrors suffer grisly fates. Young couple William Shatner and Joanna Heyes move into the woman’s old dark house, and much creepiness ensues. Douglas Heyes’s adaptation of Robert Bloch’s story smartly crosses time, giving us a break from Shatner and Joanna Hayes and their contemporary setting to see how Douglas’s initial tragedy went down all those years ago. The flashbacks shuffle up the storytelling nicely, but it’s still the time spent in 1961 that provide the most unnerving moments when the couple envision ghostly figures reaching out for them from the house’s mirrors. Heyes only gives us impressionistic views of these figures, which play on the imagination far more effectively than the graphically depicted, and rather silly looking, monster from the earlier episode “The Cheaters”. The final minutes of “The Hungry Glass”, which entail a tragic mistake and a character’s haunting exit, creep me out as much as the scariest installments of The Twilight Zone.

366 Days at the Drive-In: Day 324

The Date: August 19

The Movie: Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

What Is It?: The second Star Trek movie is often sited as the first good one, but it’s really the only one worth a damn. While the first one tried to be 2001, the second strives more for Star Wars and succeeds incredibly well by continuing the original series’ “Space Seed” episode in which Ricardo Montalban’s Khan last appeared. And, yes, those are Ricardo’s real muscles. The finale must have been a real shocker for long-time Trekkies.

Why Today?: On this day in 1921, Gene Rodenberry is born.

366 Days at the Drive-In: Day 44

The Date: November 13

The Movie: The Intruder (1962)

What Is It?: Roger Corman, the so-called “King of the B-Movies,” makes a “message film” infinitely more fearless than any other such picture of its era. William Shatner is chilling as a despicable shit stirrer who travels south to incite a violent backlash against school integration.

Why Today?: On this day in 1956, the Supreme Court outlaws segregated buses in Alabama.

Review: 'Crab Monsters, Teenage Cavemen, and Candy Stripe Nurses—Roger Corman: King of the B Movie'

Cult, horror, and schlock freaks will always think of Roger Corman primarily as the producer of some of their favorite cheap-o’s, whether they be Little Shop of Horrors, Attack of the Crab Monsters, or Grand Theft Auto. Serious cinephiles feel no guilt in praising the artistry of the best Poe pictures he directed, particularly House of Usher and The Masque of the Red Death, or his even less celebrated venture into message films, the remarkable anti-segregation The Intruder. They also appreciate how he distributed works by European artists such as Federico Fellini, Akira Kurosawa, and Ingmar Bergman (who loved the dubbed version of Cries and Whispers Corman put in drive-ins!) in the U.S. Many of our most respected filmmakers—Scorsese, Coppola, Bogdanovich, Demme, Nicholson— revere Corman as the guy who gave them their real starts in Hollywood. Feminists who know more about him than his insistence on stuffing gratuitous nudity into his movies appreciate the opportunities he afforded women directors, producers, writers, and crew people in an industry infamous for its sexism. Indie filmmakers of every stripe should bow down to Roger Corman for his pioneering the frugal business practices that made thousands of low-budget pictures possible.

Richard Matheson On Screen: 10 Essential Works

Throughout 20th century horror’s Pre-K era (i.e.: pre-King), Richard Matheson dominated. Matheson is a tough, clean writer who has composed some of our most unforgettable works of terror and imagination. Without the ornateness of plot and/or language that distinguished his major horror peers—Poe and Lovecraft, Bradbury and King—Matheson writes tales with the punchy immediacy of campfire ghost stories. A scant phrase can instantly conjure one of the many indelible images he created: a man shrinks toward oblivion, a gremlin terrorizes a man from the wing of a plane, a murderous fetish doll stalks a woman through her apartment, a monstrous big-rig hunts a motorist, the last man on Earth fights to survive a plague of vampires.

Matheson’s lean, pointed stories were absolutely ripe for adaptation. His short stories resulted in several of the most beloved episodes of “Twilight Zone”, although oddly enough, there has never been a truly great version of what may be his definitive work, the apocalyptic vampire novel I Am Legend. Be that as it may, there are still plenty of wonderful examples of Matheson on-screen. Here are ten essentials.

(For the purposes of this article, I steered away from Matheson's adaptations of other writers' work, but his scripts for Poe's Fall of the House of Usher and Dennis Wheatley's The Devil Rides Out are pretty essential viewing, too)

1. The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)

September 28, 2009: 50 Years of “The Twilight Zone”

On this coming Friday in 1959, at 10:00 PM Eastern Time, on the CBS network, “The Twilight Zone” debuted, and television was changed forever. By far the smartest series to enjoy a successful run on American television at that point in the medium’s brief history, “The Twilight Zone” sharpened the suspense anthology series already introduced by “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “One Step Beyond” immeasurably. Episodes of those two pioneering programs tended to be heavy on the flab, light on the satisfying conclusions, and weak in the directorial department (except, of course, when Hitchcock was at the helm). “The Twilight Zone” certainly had its share of weak episodes, but the great ones were dazzling unions of cinematic direction, masterful acting, and well-paced, pointed scripts (with the occasional mind-blowing resolution).


Although Rod Serling constantly protested that he never intended to use “The Twilight Zone” as a platform for social commentary, I find it hard to believe that this very smart fellow didn’t realize that a supernatural program could be a cagey Trojan Horse in which he could smuggle storylines about racism, the insanity of war, the shallowness of consumerism and capitalism, anti-Semitism and the Holocaust, nuclear war, and Fascism onto conservative, late ‘50s/early ‘60s network TV. The political progressiveness of “The Twilight Zone” is just as much of a factor in its deathlessness as the way it could chill one’s bones. I greatly believe that terror is difficult to maintain in lengthy doses, which is why a pithy ghost story is infinitely more frightening than any 900-page Stephen King novel. The creepiest episodes of “The Twilight Zone” had the same concise power to terrorize, and as crude as the show could be in comparison to what can be achieved in modern cinema, I find certain episodes of “The Twilight Zone” to be among the most frightening “movies” I’ve ever seen (just thinking about the denouements of “The Dummy” and “Living Doll” are still enough to send me running for the nightlight). “The Twilight Zone” could also be deeply moving, and while it didn’t always do humor well, there are some neat exceptions, such as “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up”, “The Mind and the Matter”, and “A Penny for Your Thoughts”. None of these episodes are laugh-out-loud hilarious, but they’re all fine installments for their witty plots and twists.


Whether “The Twilight Zone” intended to be funny or frightening, heart rendering or socially critical, it was almost always innovative, intellectually electrifying entertainment. Very few shows from its era hold up, making the 50th anniversary of “The Twilight Zone” a true landmark to celebrate. I recommend you do so by watching some of your most-loved episodes. If you’re a “Zone” novice, here are my ten personal favorites (in chronological order) to get you started:

1. “Time Enough at Last” (original air date: November 20, 1959)

No matter how many times I see this tragic tale of bookworm Henry Beamish, my heart still breaks for the poor schmuck. This has as much to do with an extraordinary performance by Burgess Meredith as it does with Serling’s outstanding adaptation of Lynn Venable’s story.

2. “The After Hours” (original air date: June 10, 1960)

Sweet and sad, but also really unsettling. That “Marsha! Marsha! Come off it, Marsha!” scene is nightmare material. Anne Francis also has the distinction of being the most compelling actress ever to appear on “The Twilight Zone”.

3. “The Howling Man” (original air date: November 4, 1960)

A wonderful blend of the absurd (those insane brethren with their Moses beards!) and the horrific (Look out! You’ve unleashed Satan!) by Charles Beaumont, one of the Zone’s most prolific and skilled writers.

4. “Eye of the Beholder” (original air date: November 11, 1960)

“Eye of the Beholder” has lost a little power due to its over-reliance on a twist ending, but it will always rate as one of “The Twilight Zone’s” finest moments because of a great co-performance from Maxine Stuart and Donna Douglas, the arresting make-up, and the brilliant way director Douglas Heyes misdirects the viewer.

5. “It’s a Good Life” (original air date: November 3, 1961)

Like anyone needed another reason to find children totally creepy. “It’s a Good Life” is the story of Anthony Fremont, a freckle-faced cutie pie with more power than any child—or adult—should possess. I always wondered why we don’t get a good look at the two-headed gopher Anthony conjures in the beginning of the episode. According to Bill Mumy (who played Anthony) in Martin Grams Jr.’s indispensable book The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic, we may have only gotten to see the gopher’s tale because the creature “was too disgusting and they probably feared repercussion from viewers.” Man oh man, I’ve never wanted to see that gopher as much as I do now.

6. “To Serve Man” (original air date: March 2, 1962)

While its brilliant twist is the greatest legacy of “To Serve Man”, it’s not nearly as disturbing as the image of Richard Kiel with his mouth hanging open as an incongruously amiable voice speaks his dialogue.

7. “The Dummy” (original air date: May 4, 1962)

Nothing is scarier than breaking the fourth wall (i.e.: when a character in a film looks directly into the camera, creating an unexpectedly personal connection with the viewer). This happens in a terrifying way at the conclusion of “The Dummy”, making for one of the most unforgettable moments in “The Twilight Zone”. You may want to forget it, but you won’t.

8. “Jess-Belle” (original air date: February 14, 1963)

One of the few great episodes from the “The Twilight Zone’s” hit-or-miss fourth season in which the show was stretched to an hour-long. There is no shocking twist, socio/political message, or cavalcade of chills in “Jess-Belle”; it’s simply a wonderfully spun yarn with impeccable performances from Anne Francis as the titular heartsick witch, Jeanette Nolan as the self-delighted Granny who bewitched her, and James Best as the object of Jess’s obsession. For its flawless acting, atmosphere, imagination, and pathos, “Jess-Belle” is my favorite episode of “The Twilight Zone”, even though it is so atypical of the series that it’s the only one that does not end with a parting monologue from Serling.

9. “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” (original air date: October 11, 1963)

The gremlin looks like a giant teddy bear with a harelip, so why is that reveal when Bill Shatner pulls aside the curtain still so horrifying? Probably because of the relentless white-knuckle tension that precedes (and follows) the scene.

10. “Living Doll” (original air date: November 1, 1963)

Tell Savalas goes toe-to-toe with Talky Tina. The final moments of this episode are among the most frightening in the “Twilight Zone” canon. I’m sure the decision to use slow motion was a means of stretching out the sequence to fit Serling’s narration, but it really contributes to the queasily disturbing atmosphere. “Living Doll” is “The Twilight Zone” at its most terrifying, which means it’s TV at its most terrifying.

For those who are a bit more “Twilight Zone” savvy, here are 5 of the most underrated episodes.

1. “The Lateness of the Hour” (original air date: December 12, 1960)


During the second season, the Powers That Be at CBS tried to save cash by having the TZ crew film six episodes on inexpensive video rather than film. Serling was adamantly opposed, but he relented. The experiment was an absolute failure. Grainy, flat video did nothing to convey the rich, shadowy atmosphere that made “The Twilight Zone” an aesthetic triumph as well as a triumph of storytelling. This was particularly unfortunate considering that a few truly fine stories were captured in this subpar format, including “The Lateness of the Hour”, a creepy story about a wealthy inventor who populates his home with robot servants. The ending is a bit predictable (especially if you’re familiar with the standard “Twilight Zone” 9th-inning twist), but it is handled in a way that still makes it shocking with each subsequent viewing.

2. “The Prime Mover” (original air date: March, 24 1961)

One of the better humorous episodes, “The Prime Mover” stars Buddy Ebsen of “The Beverly Hillbillies” as a barback who develops telekinetic powers after getting zapped by a fallen power line. His asshole boss then schemes to exploit Ebsen’s newfound abilities by taking him to Vegas to ace the craps tables. The piece is terrific because Ebsen brings a nice mixture of selfless agreeability and conscience to his performance, so it’s a real pleasure when he gets the last laugh.

3. “Long Distance Call” (original air date: March 31, 1961)


The crew seemed to be getting a better handle on their video equipment by the time they shot “Long Distance Call”, because it looks better than the other episodes shot on tape. But this is yet another show that derives its power more from story than presentation. On his way to being typecast as a creepy kid, Billy Mumy plays a little boy whose grandmother gives him a toy telephone for his birthday. After Grandma croaks, she and her grandson start chatting on the phony phone. The premise and Mumy’s performance would make this one of the more unsettling “Twilight Zone” episodes on their own, but when coupled with the truly fucked-up things Granny says during their conversations, you have one of the most demented 30 minutes of television ever aired.

4. “Printer’s Devil” (original air date: February 28, 1963)

Burgess Meredith was an actor so integral to “The Twilight Zone” (he starred in a record four episodes) that when Steven Spielberg produced Twilight Zone: The Movie in 1983, he was chosen to succeed the late Rod Serling as narrator. Hardly as well-remembered as “Time Enough at Last”, “Printer’s Devil” is a hidden treat for Meredith fans, who had come to love him for his good-natured, everyman characters. But here he is as cast as the villain—in fact, he is cast as the ultimate villain: Satan. Shades of his future work as The Penguin on the “Batman” series peep through as Meredith helps a flailing newspaper owner get back in business by creating sensational headlines (“HIGH SCHOOL PRINCIPAL EXPOSED AS BIGAMIST!”). Another great episode from the 60-minute “Twilight Zone”.

5. “On Thursday We Leave for Home” (original air date: March 2, 1963)

Here’s another hour-long “Zone”, and it’s the one that Serling said was the only “really effective show” in the extended format. He was being more than a bit unfair to other excellent episodes, such as the aforementioned “Jess-Belle” and “Printer’s Devil”, as well as “Miniature”, and “The Incredible World of Horace Ford”, but there’s no mystery about why he singled out “On Thursday We Leave for Home” (aside from the fact that he wrote it). Thirty years before the show begins, a spaceship crashed on a barren planet with two suns and the ship’s captain is tasked with maintaining order among the survivors, none of whom remember Earth. As the throng grows mutinous, the Captain fears his control over them may be in jeopardy. “On Thursday We Leave for Home” is classic “Twilight Zone” in its delivery of a moral message, its slow-mounting tension, and its chilling conclusion. A forgotten episode that deserves to be remembered among the classics.