It looks like Paramount might have pulled a swift one on us.
When JJ Abrams' Star Trek was released in 2009, it seemed to signal the beginning of a new, more accessible era for the franchise. "Come on in," the studio seemed to be saying, "the water's fine. Oh, you don't like Star Trek? That's cool; this is just a fun, sexy, action flick set in space. It's a lot like Star Wars, actually. You like Star Wars, don't you? Of course you do."
This time around, though, the message is very different: "True Star Trek fans or GTFO."
Sure, there are still touches of Star Wars in Abrams' approach to the action sequences, but Into Darkness goes relatively deep into Trek lore. There are stacks of references to the original series, and certain plot points and character motivations that won't make much sense to casual audiences (one of the original films, in particular, is virtually required viewing).
More than continuity, though, it's the tone that recalls classic Trek. Into Darkness shuffles along at a much slower, more deliberate pace than its immediate predecessor; it's certainly more dialogue-heavy, and weighed down with the sorts of Starfleet intrigue and moral debates that were routine in older incarnations of the franchise and largely absent in Abrams' 2009 reimagining.
(Interestingly enough, while Star Wars is less of an influence this time around, Abrams does indulge his Spielberg fetish by topping and tailing the film with scenes highly reminiscent of Raiders Of The Lost Ark. Of course, that's the sort of movie that makes up such a large part of Abrams' cinematic DNA that the references may not even have been conscious.)
Having said all that, I adored this movie. Loved it. It may not be for everyone, but if you're not completely averse to classic Trek, it's an absolute treat — the plot grips, the dialogue retains a sharp wit even at the darkest of times, and the action impresses (one set piece, in particular, should become this film's signature, and would single-handedly make Into Darkness a must-see sci-fi actioner).Benedict Cumberbatch delivers a stellar performance as the mysterious John Harrison. He's the sort of classic thesp that lends gravitas to lines that should, by rights, sound ridiculous. He's not alone in impressing, either, with Peter Weller (aka Robocop, kids) turning in a solid effort as the head of Starfleet and the core cast — Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg, John Cho and Anton Yelchin — continuing to make these roles their own.
It's far from perfect — the plot is filled with holes; Abrams occasionally tells when he should show (and those lens flares of his are more annoying than ever); and the drama of a key moment at the climax of the film is ruined by a blindingly obvious Chekhov's Gun (or, in this case, Bones' Tribble). Indeed, many of the surprises here have already been spoiled for over-eager fans, but that's their fault for studying those trailers so intently.
Most troublingly, the conclusion wraps everything up with a neat little bow and sends our heroes out smiling, when — after everything that's been revealed throughout the course of the film — this should be an incredibly dark, post-Nixon era for The Federation.
I'm more than willing to overlook those flaws, though, when the rest of the movie is this enjoyable. With Abrams off to direct Star Wars Episode VII — which, let's face it, probably would have been a better use of his time from the beginning — it's unlikely we'll see him in the chair for another Trek. If this is the end, it's been a worthy voyage.
4/5
