Having grown up on Star Trek and the Twilight Zone, I really enjoyed Black Mirror episode ‘USS Callister.’ Being a philosopher, I rather enjoyed reading various thought pieces on the work and decided to add my own tribble to the heap. If you have not seen the episode, there are obviously spoilers ahead.
Much like the brilliant Star Trek lampoon Galaxy Quest, ‘USS Callister’ begins with what appears to be a Trek clone overstuffed with overacting and delightful cheese. Captain Daly, a Kirk-like figure, leads his diverse and adoring crew in a battle against a Khan like villain (complete with a recreation of a scene from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan). Under the slice of cheese is a true horror: The USS Callister is within a virtual reality game controlled by Robert Daly and the other “players” are self-aware digital clones of his co-workers.
Daly has powers in the game comparable to Charlie X of Star Trek (including the ability to transform a victim’s face into a mask of unbroken flesh) and uses them to control the controls, forcing them to play the game with him. Since Daly’s coworkers treat him rather badly, it is initially tempting to feel some sympathy for him, but it is revealed that Daly cloned and spaced (putting out an airlock without a suit) the son of his boss. Daly also transforms cloned female co-workers into large alien bugs which horrifically retain their intelligence.
Daly seals his own fate when he digitally clones his newest co-worker, Nanette, and forces her to play the game. To make an excellent story short, digital Nanette leads the crew in a successful rebellion against Daly aided, unwittingly, by the original Nanette.
Jenna Scherer, of Rolling Stone, makes an excellent case that the episode is a criticism of the sort of toxic fandom that has spewed its hate at the fact that the captain’s chair has been increasingly available to people who are not straight, white males. I certainly agree that the episode does just that. However, I also contend that it is a Star Trek story, albeit crafted to avoid lawsuits from the corporate masters of Star Trek. I think this might be a point worth making since I see it as important to distinguish the episode’s criticism of toxic fandom from what seems to be a sincere commitment to the values of classic Star Trek. Making this case requires considering what it is to be a Star Trek story.
The easy and obvious (and legalistic) answer is that a Star Trek story is one that occurs within the Star Trek universe as defined by the corporation that owns the property. While legally sound, this is not satisfying from a philosophical standpoint. Setting aside the legal concerns, another easy way to define such a story is in terms of the setting—that is, a story in the Star Trek universe is thus a Star Trek story. That is also unsatisfying—merely having the Federation, Klingons and such does not seem to suffice—for there is more to a true Star Trek story than just the setting, props and inhabitants. There is the intangible “feel” of a Star Trek story as well as the values inherent to such a story. Since an entire book could be written about this, I am forced to stick with a few quick points that are especially relevant to ‘USS Callister.’
One underlying theme of Star Trek is the dual nature of humanity’s relation to technology. On the one hand, Star Trek is fundamentally optimistic about technology—warp technology allows starships to explore the galaxy and advances in technology have freed the Federation from economic oppression. On the other hand, Star Trek also explores the threat technology presents in terms of its potential for abuse. The Borg are, of course, the paradigm example of the dangerous side to technology. While ‘USS Callister’ might seem to be entirely on the dark side of technology, the ending is optimistic—the digital clones are fully people and, at the end, set out to have their own life in the vast universe of the game.
Star Trek, especially the original series, also placed an emphasis on rational problem solving and teamwork. The model was, of course, a strong captain leading a competent crew of decent people. While this is not unique to Star Trek, this model was carefully followed by the episode: as in many classic Star Trek episodes, crew members made essential contributions to the success of the plan—and, of course, the diversity of the crew is a key part of their strength.
Most importantly, Star Trek also advanced a set of moral principles, as exemplified by the rules and laws of the Federation and Star Fleet. In the episode “Captain Daly” speaks of the values of Space Fleet, but often uses them to justify inflicting worse horrors. For example, after defeating a co-worker he has cast as a villain, the “villain” begs Daly to kill him and thus free him. Daly cites the Space Fleet rules about not killing and instead has the “villain” locked in the brig—thus extending his torture. While it is tempting to see the episode as mocking the values of Star Trek by having a Kirk-like figure mouthing them while grotesquely violating their spirit, this is what contributes the most to making it a Star Trek story. Daly is not Kirk exposed. Daly is, rather, another example of a classic Star Trek villain type: a Star Fleet captain gone bad. In ‘The Omega Glory’ Captain Tracey, commander of the Exeter, violates the Federation’s Prime Directive and ends up committing mass murder and fighting Kirk in order to secure what he hopes is the secret to immortality. While Daly is obviously modeled on Kirk, he is most like Captain Tracey: someone who has professed his love for his ideals, but who abandons them for his own selfish desires when pushed into a crisis. Daly thus shows the irony of the toxic fan—they are acting in violation of the very principles they profess to embrace.
Digital Nanette and her fellows, in contrast, act in accord with the classic values of Star Trek—they act with courage and are willing to make great sacrifices for each other. Appropriately enough, at the end of the episode Nanette is the captain of the USS Callister—a position she has earned. While Daly and the toxic fans might fancy themselves captains, they are the villains. Which is, of course, also a feature of classic Trek: the moral lesson.
Upon their escape from Daly’s private game, the crew’s uniforms and the ship are upgraded to a modern style (like that of the new Star Trek movies). While it might be tempting to see this as a condemnation of classic Star Trek, it can be a metaphor of how the moral goodness of classic Trek is still relevant today, though it was clearly best to leave behind the miniskirts. So, it is reasonable to see ‘USS Callister’ as praising the good of Star Trek while, at the same time, criticizing toxic fandom.
Dammit, Mike! I promised myself I would watch no more Black Mirror; if I really needed to feel that humanity is such an irredeemable mess that the best action is to exterminate all sentient life, and put it out of its misery, I would at least reread something with more intellectual wattage, like Benatar, or The Road, or Blindsight. And so I had no trouble ignoring Season 4 on Netflix … until I read this. Now, I have watched this episode, and I am doomed to have Netflix haunt me with a “Continue Watching” entry for it until I weaken, and am exposed to the rest of the season.
The Original Series was a formative inspiration to me as a kid too. I also watched most or all of TNG, but as I was older, it had less impact, and I watched much less still of the later spin-offs. I do remember feeling that even TNG was not “real” Star Trek.
So, do I consider this a Star Trek story? No. It matches some characteristics, fails others.
– it is a single, self-contained episode
– it is a morality play
– it has the setting and trappings: hokey special effects, treknobabble, uniforms
However:
– the story structure is split into an ‘A’ and a ‘B’ story, inside and out of the VR
– while the crew do somewhat work together, this is not because they have made any effort to overcome their personal weaknesses, or join in pursuit of a greater cause, but just out of selfish self-preservation
– the level of disrespect to the audience shown in the implausibility of the real-world story is not something Star Trek would ever have supported.
Star Trek had abundant plot holes and deliberate hokiness, and USS Callister does reproduce some of this very faithfully. The hokiness of the “wormhole patch update”, for example, is entirely in keeping with the flavour of suspension of disbelief we need for Star Trek.
However, the real-life side of the story demands we believe in the possibility of reproducing a living mind, at a specific point in time, with specific memories, from DNA that cannot contain that information. It demands that we believe an individual who built this impossible technology, alone and in secret, would not immediately become the richest and one of the most powerful people on earth. It demands that a company of people built on the brilliance and work of one partner, who would own almost half the company, and whose careers depend on his continued effort, simply ignore and disrespect him. These “Viewers are Morons” levels of contempt for the audience are inconsistent with Star Trek’s attitude towards its fans.
While I do not consider it quite a Star Trek story, it certainly incorporated some parts extremely well, and I found it thoroughly enjoyable. Jesse Plemons was superb – as Kirk, as Daly, as Daly being an even cheesier Shatner, as Daly being Evil Kirk – on both the VR and RL sides.
On one other point, Jenna Scherer’s essay does not attempt to make any case of any kind. She does not point at evidence. She does not cite statements from the writers. She does not outline effects. She simply throws unrelated slurs at unspecified abstracted groups for undefined behaviour. The one definition she does provide is entirely irrelevant to the episode. This episode was of technology that enabled a dark, cruel Walter Mitty; there was no indication that Daly had been soured by seeing diversity injected into his favourite franchise. You have accepted the same unthinking reaction in your off-hand reference to “toxic fandom”. There are no doubt specific criticisms to be made of specific reactions to entertainments and games, and by all means make those, but spraying “toxic” smoke in all directions is not worthy of response.
However, as “toxic” gamers go, Aaron Paul’s send-off was epic.
Netflix owes me now. 🙂
You make a good case; especially the points about the “real” world aspects of the piece.
True, Jenna does make unsupported assumptions. In the case of Daly, I did not think that diversity bothered him. After all, he went after the white guys as well-his main motivation seemed to be the way he was treated. which was quite badly. Especially considering, as you said, he created the company and is the brains behind it.
But, I do think Daly does stand for a toxic fan-he does revel in the Space Fleet ethics while grossly violating it in his behavior.
I’m not really in to Star Wars anymore.
Wan Nanette court martialled for mutiny?
http://youtu.be/CLUZ0Nv7UH4
No; Star Fleet regulations allow for the removal of unfit officers. Although there has never been a mutiny on an actual Star Fleet vessel.
Wasn’t Spock court martialled for mutiny in the pilot episode?
He ends up being acquitted.
I am not familiar with the series, nor would I consider myself a “Trekkie”, though I did enjoy the original series and have seen most of the movies.
At any rate, what you are illustrating here is something that has been written about by authors and teachers of creative writing – one such piece is called “Steal This Plot”, by Bill Noble (shameless plug for a good friend). There are many variations on this theme, but the idea is that there are a limited number of plot elements (Noble claims seven), mixed in with another limited number of variations (Noble calls them “story spicers”), that can provide a basis for just about every story told.
The example he cites at the beginning of the book is the story of the Minotaur, a man-eating beast who resides in a maze, to whom periodic sacrifices are made for the political and economic well-being of the land. Obviously there’s a lot more to the story, but that’s the gist …
Noble changes a few things around – he sets the story in the modern-day instead of ancient Greece; he replaces the mythical bull-headed man with a more believable man-eating shark. He pits the mayor of the town, who is willing to risk the lives of the tourists for the sake of the town’s economy, against the heroic chief of police …
The Coen Brothers did this in “O Brother Where Art Thou”; “West Side Story” is “Romeo and Juliet”, and so on and so on.
Netflix and Amazon have mined tons of data on plot elements and story lines like this so they can make their “Because you liked ‘X’, we think you’ll enjoy ‘Y'” recommendations – and the more data you give them, the more accurate they can be.
So I think your discussion here is interesting and salient, but it comes down to semantics. Clearly, once you get out of the legalistic definition of what makes a “Star Trek” story you are getting into some pretty wide-open territory – but I guess it would keep a bunch of fans engaged while enjoying a few adult beverages on a Friday night. Purists might say that the only true “Star Trek” story stems from the original series, while others would say that the genre continues to develop as our own evolving social consciousness places market demands on the story lines, the relationships, the characters.
As you state, there are some very clear elements that will make a “Star Trek” story in your mind – but by your definition, the entire cast of characters can be put into a movie called “Star Trek” something-or-another, be released by Paramount or CBS, take place on the USS Enterprise – but still not be a “Star Trek” story if it is lacking in the key defining elements you enumerate.
Look beyond Star Trek and you’ll see plot elements that were used way before the franchise. It’s an interesting game to play.
Excellent points.
While I am not an author of fiction, I’ve cranked out many RPG adventures over the years and they definitely have a limited number of plot elements. Aristotle probably started this idea of “story parts” with his Poetics; he was definitely right when it comes to Tragedy; so it makes sense it applies across the board.
Interesting point about how Amazon and Netflix do their thing; when I taught aesthetics we covered the idea of whether it was possible to create good works simply by a formula to the letter. Which, of course, requires that there be a formula.
Right; I do think that there could be a “Star Trek” movie/show with all the settings and characters that is not a true Star Trek story. Mostly, as you say, a beer fueled conversation for fans-but still interesting.