Spoiler Alert: Star Trek: Beyond

The centerpiece of the latest Star Trek film is a bright celestial bauble, a tremendous re-imagining of a Federation starbase, named Yorktown.

Yorktown is on the scale of a Death Star, but instead of incinerating worlds it is presumably dedicated to a lot of peace-mongering bureaucracy and some very nice apartment buildings. To quote Memory Alpha, “Yorktown’s structure consisted of a matrix of city-sized interlocking rings and radiating arms enclosed in a spherical translucent surface; Enterprise doctor Leonard McCoy likened it to a giant ‘snow globe’ in space.” At the center of it all the tips of opposing skyscrapers nearly touch, and the artificial gravity gets jumbled into an Escheresque milieu.

One of the best aspects of this film is its level of self-containment. While last year’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens relied on narrative connections to future films and the expanded universe, Star Trek: Beyond shies away from serialization. As a result, it feels a lot like a shot of the original series or The Next Generation, back when episodes of television stood on their own instead of tying together intricate season-long plotlines.

On the other hand, the Enterprise does very little trekking in this film. All the action takes place between Yorktown, an intervening nebula1 and a star system on the far side. Lured from Yorktown through the nebula and to the star system, the Enterprise is utterly destroyed by a swarm of alien drones, and its crew marooned. This is perhaps the most spectacular, fetishistic demolition of the Federation’s flagship in history, and it recalls the other times it has been sacrificed for the silver screen. As in Star Trek: Generations we see the saucer section crash-land on a planet. And as in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock we see a new Enterprise under construction at the end of the film, ready for more box office openings.

Another asset to this film is a complex bad guy who carries plausible motivations for his homicidal rage. Whereas most sci-fi villains tend to be one-note, bloodthirsty evil-doers, Krall carries ideological motivations that Kirk very nearly demolishes in a short conversation. Krall does what he thinks is justified. He’s not a narcissistic ubermensch like Khan, or an irredeemable alien like many of Trek’s cinematic villains. He’s also not an inanimate object, like the primary antagonists of Star Trek: The Motion Picture and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. He’s a human soldier who feels betrayed and abandoned by his commanders, a relic from the past who rejects the Federation’s liberal multiculturalism and wants to disintegrate anyone who takes part in it.

This film also recalls an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation in which the crew discovers a long-lost starship (the Pegasus) trapped inside an asteroid. In Star Trek: Beyond, the crew discovers Krall’s old ship, the Franklin, which had been missing for a century. This time capsule allows the movie just enough narrative headroom to whip out a bad-ass motorcycle for Kirk to ride and the Beastie Boys’ song “Sabotage” to clinch the climactic space battle. I’m not sure whether these elements are cheap stunts from the director of four Fast/Furious movies, or a fun exploitation of Earth’s history within the Trek franchise, but Wil Wheaton leans toward the former.

At any rate this is a fun film, built on strong performances, great characters, stunning visual design, and a tight if sometimes wonky plotline.

1. As for the “nebula” it’s full of more wildly careening rocks than the “asteroid field” in The Empire Strikes Back. This is a step backwards for Star Trek as it represented the Enterprise navigating through a more accurate depiction of a nebula in The Wrath of Khan. As GeekWire writes, “the clouds of gas and dust that make up a nebula are so thin that a starship would have no place to hide – and nothing to dodge except for protostars.” And per Wikipedia, “although denser than the space surrounding them, most nebulae are far less dense than any vacuum created on Earth – a nebular cloud the size of the Earth would have a total mass of only a few kilograms.”

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Spoiler Alert: The Lego Movie

The story starts off predictably enough for a grandiose adventure: a wizard, a prophecy, an unwitting hero.  Emmet is just a model construction worker, living his city life to the tee by following every rule in the book.  He is manically happy just to be doing it right: greeting his alarm clock with a smile, doing some calisthenics, watching his favorite sitcom before heading out for an overpriced coffee and a fulfilling day on the job.  He feels like he has friends, that he’s part of something.  Then a mysterious woman who’s obviously not playing by the rules leads him to fall down an archaeological rabbit hole and end up with a mysterious plastic piece stuck to his back.  The woman tells him he has found the “piece of resistance” and is the hero of prophecy.  And like Neo in The Matrix, Emmet begins to realize he’s been living a lie.

The putative villain in the film is Lord Business, head of the Octan corporation.  In real life, Fox News, though generally not known for its perceptiveness, accused The Lego Movie of pushing an anti-capitalist agenda and making Lord Business look like Mitt Romney.  To be fair, there is certain capitalist critique in the film: the Octan corporation not only employs Emmet but makes and sells his coffee, produces his television show, and constantly plays his favorite song on the radio.  They also manufacture voting machines, which may explain why Lord Business is president of the world.  To be fair, Lord Business’s plan to perfect everything to his liking and then glue it in place forever does reflect a certain degree of conservatism.  But never mind that The Lego Movie endlessly promotes the toys of a company that made nearly $1 billion in profits in 2012; the real reason the film is not anti-business is because Lord Business does not end up a villain.

Nor does Emmet end up a hero—until he realizes he was never entitled to be one.  The wizard from the beginning of the film admits he made up the whole prophecy, just so someday someone might believe in him or herself.  To help foil Lord Business’s superglue spree, the people of the city are inspired to believe in themselves as well, and they take to the sky in a hodgepodge of jury-rigged vehicles to fight the robotic micromanagers determined to pose everyone perfectly.  The message of the film changes: from there shall be a hero, to anyone can be a hero, to everyone can be a hero.  Emmet even offers heroism to Lord Business, saying that he has a choice, that he can change.  For exposing both prophecy and villainy as BS, The Lego Movie gets an A+ in the moral-of-the-story department.

Of course, there’s a twist: Emmet and his world are the projected fantasies of a real boy, who personifies his real father as Lord Business.  When Emmet tumbles out of his animated world onto a live-action concrete floor, he’s no longer able to move.  He finds himself in a basement where the boy has spent the day messing with his father’s meticulously constructed collection, ignoring signs to keep his hands off.  The lighting is somehow reminiscent of a twenty-five-year-old print ad, and for a moment you get the unsettling feeling that you just spent twelve dollars to watch a 100 minute commercial.  But then in walks Will Ferrell.  As the boy’s father, a mature collector and block aficionado, Ferrell’s plan to glue everything in place is real.  But the inventiveness of his son inspires him to change his mind.

The film represents something of a full circle for Lego, which prior to 1999 issued sets mostly based on its own generic intellectual properties: cities, castles, pirate ships, the wild west.  But then they started licensing Batman, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and other blockbuster film franchises.  The popularity of Legos soared, to the point where they now have a film franchise of their own.  It helps a lot that characters like Batman, Superman, Gandalf, Dumbledore, Milhouse (from The Simpsons), a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and a Millennium Falcon‘s worth of Star Wars characters can drop in for cameos, along with half-forgotten real-life luminaries likes Shakespeare and Shaquille O’Neal.  If I have any criticism of the film, it’s that Shaq is one of the few diverse figures in a sea of yellow faces.  There’s also Morgan Freeman providing the voice of the wizard, and a Native American in a headdress, whose unprovoked toss of a tomahawk in the general direction of the good guys is all the more troubling for its tired half-heartedness.

But in the end, The Lego Movie wins because it is consistently, deliriously funny, because it is intelligent and has a heart, and because if you can catch even half of what’s happening in the plasticky mise-en-scène you will see things you have never seen before. The film is visually astounding, looking like a vast stop-motion fantasia even though it’s really computer animated.  Everything from fire to water to steam is depicted as frenetically rearranged Lego blocks, and the fluidity that emerges from the static forms is a revelation.