Minimalist Magic
The Star Trek Look
By Mervyn Nicholson (thanks to
zainin666 for the link)
"By treating the style of the original series as integral to the show - and not as a kind of regrettable defect - we can get a better grasp on the Star Trek phenomenon itself." This article covers a lot of territory under the umbrella of discussing Star Trek as Minimalist in execution and thought (in opposition to the later series.) The use of color, the settiness of sets, and the expression of emotion are referred to, as well as Shatner's acting style. I'm linking and excerpting because it ties into something I was talking about before, about the way that Shatner/Kirk play off each other to create something strange and appealing without being freakish. The importance of emotion, of the face, in a drama without much of anything else to look at is, I think, important in understanding the success of a show without much in the way of special effects or budget to recommend it. Even if I'm not sure I buy the over-arching idea that Minimalism can tie it all together.
Aside from my fervent nodding along to the idea that Shatner's acting is appropriate to the form and style of the show (I am converted, preach to me!), it is interesting to note that the "deficiencies" of TOS can certainly be put down to budget issues and to a lack of style, but they don't have to be. I like a lot of how it looks, and I think it's valid to approach these decisions as choices. Choices bound by necessity, sure, and altered by chance. But the colored lighting on faces and bare walls, the orange skies, the simple uniforms--all that is stuff missing from the later series and which I miss from later series, not through nostalgia but because there's an actual dramatic resonance to placing the action in that context. And maybe that helps explain why someone like me can come to this show now, as an adult who wasn't even around when it came out, and prefer it.
Anyway, because it's me, have an excerpt about Shatner:
But what was key to success in the small-screen environment of Star Trek was the main character, Captain James Kirk, played by William Shatner. Shatner never had much of a movie career, but he worked well in television. His success in Star Trek has to do with the way he uses his face. Television is a medium obsessed with faces. The close-up is virtually built into the medium, because of its small size. Shatner's face is remarkably congenial for television, because he is so skilled in communicating emotion, thought, reactions, in his face by means of his face. He acts with his face. The facial mobility is extraordinary, without being in any way freakish. Shatner is a good-looking man, no doubt, but he does not possess the looks of a matinee idol. His face is handsome but not that handsome: he is close to the "boy next door" - enhanced average - the clean-cut, all-American male look at its most attractive.13 He projects a feeling of immediate familiarity - never distance or emotional remoteness.14 We know him before we know him. I referred earlier to his boyish quality, the sense of adventure and even of children playing that he brings with him.
The same principle applies to his physique. Though obviously muscular and happy to take his shirt off, Shatner is hardly a tall man. Height is important for leading men. Indeed, height in men is a common predictor of success generally. Kirk is shorter than Spock - noticeably shorter. Also, Shatner is far from thin, or even slim. He is muscular but his build always gives the impression of being on the edge of pudginess, of having to struggle with weight. His head is well proportioned with highly expressive eyes, but the hair is thinning, and a toupee is in the offing. The point is that Shatner is not the sort of male figure that one expects in such a role as Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, one of the handful of elite star-ships. After all, as Commodore Decker reminds us in "Court Martial," "Not one man in a million" can do this job.
Despite these limitations, Kirk consistently projects authority - and power of personality. He expresses every sort of emotion - his range is extraordinary - but he always retains a dignity that comes from immense confidence. His physical style is itself interesting. He is never stiff. He has the ease and fluidity of movement more of a professional dancer than of an athlete. But it is his face that is central to the show. The camera loves his face and dwells on it, allowing constant opportunity to metamorphose through the variety of emotions and reactions that constitute the drama. One of the most conspicuous features of the series is the contrast between the leading characters, between Kirk and Spock, including the color of their uniforms (light brown vs. light blue). Physically they could hardly be more different. Spock's physical movements have a slightly awkward, even mechanical, shambling quality. He is not graceful. But the difference is especially noticeable in facial expression. Spock's studied immobility doubles the effect of Kirk's expressiveness. McCoy performs the same function of contrast, but in a different register: his face is visibly older than Kirk's, and his raised eyebrow has a simple - Minimalist - but dramatic effect. One small feature can be surprisingly important. Shatner's skill in this department contributes significantly. The dramatic logic of many if not most episodes of Star Trek is simply to lead up to close-ups of Shatner, then withdraw from him, a rhythm of approach and withdrawal. The camera follows the action up to his face, taking us with it - and his face performs. It is perhaps not exaggerating to say that much of the show is carried by the movements of his face.
Thus Ina Rae Hark misses the point in her negative verdict on Shatner's acting: what she calls "Shatner's narcissistic performance style" (30). It is not narcissism that he projects but, like him or not, happiness, an intense delight in his role. To put it a bit crudely, it is charisma: a remarkable skill in using his face and his body, his physical presence. Without this contribution to Star Trek, the show would lose its trademark vitality. One has only to compare the original choice of actor for the role of Captain Kirk to see how vital Shatner is to the Star Trek origin. The original actor, Jeffrey Hunter, presents a total contrast to Shatner. He is stiff, his face is stiff, with piercing blue eyes very unlike the soft brown of Shatner (Figure 11). Hunter's emotional range is not great, though he does anger very well, and in action movies, the basic requirement of a male protagonist is that he must be able to display anger. Hence Hunter is the sort of actor that one would expect to be chosen for the helm of a star ship.
This is an important point. Hunter is close to the typical macho male, feelings always under control, preoccupied with action and assertion. He has a definite hardness, one that comes from freedom from emotion: a determination to control and overcome emotion rather than express it. In this he is the opposite of Shatner. He has a hard manner and a hard look in his face, very unlike Shatner's style. His hair is dark, his skin pale and clean-shaven; he would have a dark beard and a five o'clock shadow. Shatner on the other hand is decidedly warm in coloring: his brown hair matches a complexion that is warm, not pale. His face does not show much of a beard, giving him a boyish, even soft look. But that warmth is definitely masculine, indeed it projects erotic energy - an erotic appeal frequently exercised. The warmth he exudes is at odds with the hardness of the familiar macho male action hero. This is not to say he cannot be hard, too, but this hardness is only one of a repertoire of emotions, not the default position.
Scotty declares in "Turnabout Intruder," the last episode of Star Trek: "I've seen Captain Kirk in many ways - but NEVER red-faced with hysteria!" In fact, Shatner is pretty hysterical in several episodes (thanks to torture or coercion). He projects spontaneity and even a delight in expressing emotion. He may not be hysterical, but Shatner is openly and consistently emotional, expressing a remarkable range of emotion, from rage and panic to love, curiosity, passion, shock, and, yes, even fear - not an emotion always allowed a lead male in an action show. That is, he expresses emotion without being overcome by it, so that he always retains the sense of command that a genuine leader must have. The enhanced emotionalism of the show is one of the most conspicuous features: "For its time, Star Trek's fascination with the workings of male friendship and its openness in depicting raw manifestations of male emotional vulnerability were hardly the norm" (Hark 31). Shatner thus stimulates interest in the drama of the show from another angle: his personality. This personality, his emotional expression, draws attention to itself, just as the personality of Spock attracts attention, largely by the absence of emotion. In fact, as the show evolved, the other characters, too, especially Dr. McCoy, develop an appeal simply for their expression of emotion. Emotion alone - the display of emotion - matters.
It is consistent with this emphasis on emotion that the plot in the series is often about emotion, its expression and value. For instance, the children who don't cry in "And the Children Shall Lead Them" (because they are under what amounts to demonic possession) cry and grieve for their dead parents - when they are freed. Emotion breaks what in an earlier kind of story would simply be an enchantment. Nor is this need for emotion just for children. It works for adults in "This Side of Paradise," in "By Any Other Name," and elsewhere. Freedom means the expression of emotion. Likewise, beings who have intellect but lack feeling must achieve the power of emotion, the power to feel. The showing of emotion is an essential part of the Star Trek look. The large blocks of often intense color - what I referred to as color panels - are themselves powerful visual expressions of emotion, as they also are in Minimalist painting.
Shatner's warmth and vitality are at odds with the culture of hardness that defines so much of the masculine mystique. His bodily style in itself makes a defining statement. The drama of Star Trek depends upon emotion and the expression of emotion, and while every episode has its requisite fight scene(s), the emphasis on face for the sake of face is conspicuous.17 The face is an object of intense visual interest generally, of course - people are fascinated by faces - and Star Trek exploits this fascination to the hilt. Interestingly, the face that draws attention in the successor series and movies is often a mask - the strange appearance of an alien being such as a Klingon, for example. Viewer interest is drawn to face/mask because of the peculiarity of its appearance. But masks hide emotion. That is, when the face becomes a mask, it ceases to be a medium for expressing emotion.
Tl;dr--Basically, Shatner works on the small screen through close-ups, and the impressive mobility of his face and its ability to transmit emotion. He's good-looking, but not too good-looking, fit but not too fit, which lures us in. He is familiar. And yet he embodies a contrast between the macho leading man and a fluid emotionalism, in sharp contrast to a more typical, and less interesting, Jeffrey Hunter type. This, I think, is crucial: "It is not narcissism that he projects but, like him or not, happiness, an intense delight in his role." This is what I feel, watching Kirk work. And why I think the show is still relevant for me, when exploring masculine stereotypes and the male role in media and society. Well. And in being awesome.
One day, I'll write about something else.
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http://my-daroga.dreamwidth.org/261639.html. Feel free to comment wherever you want.