I often tell the story of how, when I was in the fourth grade, a fellow student stood up during the show-and-tell period and announced to the class that Spock had died at the end of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Back in those days, without social media or the internet, it was far easier for surprise twists in movies to remain just that — a surprise — so having such a gut-wrenching portion of the plot casually revealed had quite an effect on me. I don’t quite remember all of the details at this point, but I know I harangued my parents mercilessly for days afterward to take me to the theater; once we finally went, I do recall thinking my classmate had lied to us, for Spock does actually “die” within the first ten minutes of the movie — only to reveal that it was part of a training exercise for a cadet.
My relief was short lived, however, for it wound up being the ultimate head fake on the part of the producers; the pain of seeing the character actually meet his doom at the climax of the movie is something I’ll never forget (and revisit each time I see the movie). I truly couldn’t believe Spock was gone; I’d grown up with the triad of Kirk, Spock and McCoy and couldn’t conceive of any adventure without all three of them present. And yet, things seemed quite final when the strains of Amazing Grace played during Spock/s funeral; the ending scenes showing the casket nestled among green ferns lifted things up a bit, perhaps, but not entirely.
Now I know you’re out there fairly screaming, hey, it’s just a story!
That’s true. No one really died, of course; even as a youngster in 1982 I knew those were characters played by actors — actors who frequently popped up on other stuff besides Star Trek. Still, for me, the entire main cast of the original series felt like people I knew, intrinsically. I’d watched and re-watched all seventy-nine episodes of the series so many times, I could quote most of the lines by heart; my first VHS tape of The Motion Picture actually wore out from being used to much.
So, yeah, I went into a bit of funk as the credits rolled from Star Trek II — one that lasted until Entertainment Tonight announced that a third movie was planned.
A third movie? I remember thinking as I watched the news article with my parents. About what? And without Spock? It would be terrible.
Still, whatever misgivings I had began to vanish when I heard the actor playing Spock, Leonard Nimoy, would be directing the film. And when the title was finally revealed — The Search for Spock — I began to get intrigued. Star Wars had already created the concept of seemingly dead characters coming back to aide others, though I didn’t think Star Trek would be able to get away with the Jedi-master ghost routine. And then I stopped thinking about it while I got busy becoming a teenager. Besides, like I said earlier, the 1980s was a bit of a dead zone when it came to insider information about movies; if it didn’t make Entertainment Tonight, no one knew about it.
Fast-forward to late May, 1984: the local newspaper, which I delivered as a paperboy, carried the first announcement about Star Trek III opening on June 1st — it was nearly a quarter of a page in the movie listings, and had a black and white version of the poster that appeared on my calendar this year. With the image of Spock front-and-center on the poster, it was clear they weren’t messing around; taking a cue from the ad, I began my own campaign with my parents. After having been burned by a classmate, I was determined to get to the movie on opening night; there would be no surprises this time, at least none that weren’t in the movie itself.
My long-suffering mother agreed at length to take me; at my insistence, we arrived far, far too early and wound up killing some time by getting something to drink at the neat little café just next door to the Nickelodeon Cinema in downtown Portland. Then it was back to the theater, where I took up position just behind the velvet rope, impatiently awaiting the showing ahead of ours getting out.
Once we finally took our seats, it felt as though time had sped up: as action-packed as the movie was, sooner than I’d expected we were back on the sidewalk outside the Nickelodeon, headed home. So much was packed into what would ultimately be known as that bridge movie between two and three it took me a bit to digest; while I was satisfied at how the eponymous search concluded, it wasn’t without additional sacrifices, including one very big surprise I hadn’t been prepared for. (I will say in the more scientifically grounded universe of Star Trek, they wound up concocting something quite believable with respect to restoring Spock.)
That third movie started a number of things for me; among other things, it was the first time I’d gone to a movie on the night it opened, a tradition I maintained right up through Star Trek: Nemesis in 2002. Over the years, Star Trek III has moved up and down my list of favorites; as I’d said elsewhere, the first movie has a special place at the top, but III and IV — the one with the whales — always vie for the second spot. Honestly, it’s a bit like having children: I love all of them in their own way, so selecting a single one is always hard.
Forty years later, I get to watch this brilliant movie from the comfort of my own home as often as I would like. In celebration of the anniversary, a special 4K version was released, forcing me to (once again) purchase yet another copy of a movie I already own (in 4K, no less). The package came just a few days before the actual anniversary, and, channeling that teenage from forty years ago, I simply couldn’t wait to slip the disc into my player. This time around, it was my long-suffering wife who humored me, proving once and for all that love truly has no bounds…