Star Trek used to have the most devoted fans anywhere. Naturally we loved really spectacular outings like "The City on the Edge of Forever" or The Wrath of Khan, but we were also the only people on Earth who were able to derive enjoyment from turkeys like "Spock's Brain" or Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Back in the pre-Internet era, there was really no such thing as bad Star Trek. Some episodes and movies were simply less good than others. Maybe it was because Star Trek's heart was always in the right place in those days. Even klunky Treks like "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield" or The Search for Spock were trying to say something positive about the human condition. Gene Roddenberry, the cast, and the many behind-the-scenes personnel were trying to give us something substantive, a show that was about something.
After the death of Gene Roddenberry, the franchise was mostly run by people cared little for the quality of the product, as long as the Star Trek cash cow continued to generate revenue. The good Trek that was being made (DS9) was roundly ignored and underpromoted in favor of the hackneyed, formulaic branches of the franchise (Voyager, Enterprise, and most of the TNG movies). This created an air of cynicism in the fanbase. The attitude began to emerge that to be a really-and-truly dyed-in-the-wool Trekker you had to refuse to eagerly lap up the watered-down, inferior Star Trek that Paramount was pushing. New stuff like the TNG movies, Voyager, and later Enterprise had to be beneath you. It wasn't good enough to be a Star Trek fan, you had to be a Star Trek connoisseur. In fact, the depth of your devotion to Star Trek could be measured by how much of the franchise you disliked. My favorite example of this kind of dysfunctional fan is a fellow at TrekBBS who, over the years, has gone by the names Great Mambo Chicken, Mister Stinky Pants, and most recently The God Thing. The only Star Trek this guy will tolerate (I swear I'm not making this up) is the first two seasons of the Original Series and The Motion Picture. If anyone dares to suggest that any other part of the Star Trek franchise is any good, The God Thing will flame that person to a crisp with the fires of His wrath.
I realize I'm rambling here, but basically my point is that Trekkies used to like whatever Star Trek The Powers That Be saw fit to give us, but due to ten-plus years of disappointment and stupidity on the part of the caretakers of the franchise, we've become a cynical lot who are skeptical of any new Star Trek project that comes down the pike and pretty much instantly look for any reason at all to dislike it. Nowhere has this been more evident that with the new J.J. Abrams-directed Star Trek film that's set to be released on Christmas of this year. Upon learning that it focuses on the Original Series timeframe, a contingent of hardcore Trek connoisseurs decided that the set, costume, and prop design had to exactly mirror what we saw on the Original Series. Only a mentally ill person would expect a big-budget movie made in 2008 to strive to exactly duplicate the look of a 1960s television show that was shot on plywood sets, but these people are serious. Even after noted purist James Cawley visited the set and without spilling the beans assured us that, yes, things are different but they're different in a good way, you still get the feeling that some folks aren't convinced.
In the midst of all this negativity, you certainly couldn't blame the folks at the helm of the new film to distance themselves from the fanbase. To the contrary, though, J.J. Abrams, Roberto Orci, Damon Lindeloff, and others associated with the production have gone out of their way to reach out to the fans and assure them that they take Star Trek very seriously and are determined to make a good movie. Their comments, coupled with the recent teaser trailer, really prove to me that they get what Star Trek is supposed to be about. So get real, people. Star Trek is over forty years old; the sets, props, costumes, and ships are going to look different from their 1960s counterparts. For the first time ever (outside the world of fanfilms, that is) different actors will be playing Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. But I'm convinced that this movie's heart will be in the right place, and I'm willing to overlook any little imperfections the finished film might have, just like I used to do with "Spock's Brain" and "The Alternative Factor", back before the Internet when gas was cheap and the world was young.
This post originally appeared in my old blog, but it fits in so well with the theme of this one that I edited it a little and moved it over here.
One of the vanished EPCOT Center attractions I remember fondly is the original Journey Into Imagination. While this beautiful building hasn't been defaced to look more hip (like World of Motion) or torn down and replaced with something inferior (like Horizons), its insides have been ripped out and a slipshod, obviously cheap attraction has been stuffed into its place.
Now, I understand that EPCOT was never meant to always stay the same. As technology advanced and visitors' tastes changed, the park was supposed to change with them. So if guests began to tire of a certain attraction because they felt it was boring or dated or whatever, then of course it should be changed to something they would like better. And, to their credit, Disney has done just that with a couple attractions. Back in the mid-90s they replaced the stodgy, boring show at Universe of Energy into the more entertaining Ellen's Energy Adventure. Around the same time, they converted the slow-moving World of Motion into the thrill-oriented Test Track, which, while hardly visionary, seems to be a pretty big hit.
So, one might expect that the decision to close Journey Into Imagination in 1998 for a yearlong refurbishment was made because park visitors had tired of the old ride and were staying away from it. According to Wikipedia, though, that simply isn't true. Imagination was, in fact, a very popular EPCOT destination. It saw more visitors each day than the park's flagship attraction, Spaceship Earth. This is pretty impressive when you consider that Spaceship Earth is the first thing you see as you enter the park, and you have to walk right under its enormous globe to get to the rest of EPCOT, whereas the Imagination pavilion is fairly easy to bypass without even trying. Imagination saw so many visitors, not because they were herded there by the park's natural traffic pattern, but because genuinely liked and enjoyed it.
There was, however, a problem. Kodak's contract to sponsor Journey into Imagination was set to expire, and rival corporation Fujifilm had submitted a proposal to take over sponsorship and turn the attraction into a thrill ride. Kodak wanted to stay, so they made a counterproposal that involved refurbishing the ride into a less-expensive one. Disney bean-counters had never liked Journey into Imagination because it was the most expensive EPCOT ride to operate (owing to its length and sophistication), so they accepted Kodak's idea. Journey Into Imagination closed in October 1998 to implement the Kodak proposal.
Remember 1985? When Coca-Cola, makers of the most popular soft drink in the history of the industry, decided that the best thing they could possibly do with their flagship beverage (which had a fiercely loyal multigenerational customer base, by the way) was screw up the formula and make it worse? Yes, the refurbished ride went over like a lead balloon filled with New Coke. Gone was the lighthearted 11-minute ride featuring the whimsical Dreamfinder and his equally whimsical companion (and unofficial EPCOT mascot) Figment. In its place was a 5-minute joyless tie-in to the Honey I Shrunk the Audience 3-D movie next door. In the new Journey Into Your Imagination, you were led by the Imagination Institute's Dr. Nigel Channing through various "labs" at the Institute then deposited into a seriously anemic post-show area which was (and still is) basically just one big commercial for Kodak. People disliked the ride so much that Disney closed it in early October 2001. Folks had high hopes that Disney would fix the attraction they had once loved, and when its doors opened again they'd be greeted by the Dreamfinder and Figment once again.
Back to the New Coke analogy for a moment. Imagine that, faced with customer outrage over the replacement of classic Coca-Cola with New Coke, the company had "responded" by pulling New Coke off the market and replacing it with Crystal Pepsi.
Well, that's exactly what Disney did with Imagination. When the ride reopened about 9 months later it was called Journey Into Your Imagination With Figment. Eric Idle's annoying Dr. Channing was still there to lead you through the Imagination Institutes' boring labs, only now Figment showed up and caused the ride to detour into his imagination, which consists of words painted on the walls and cobbled-together bits of defunct attractions littered about. The only positive thing about it is that Disney had the good sense to retain the Sherman Brothers' classic song "One Little Spark", and it's hard not to leave the ride singing it. Other than that one thing, the ride is a sparse, empty, joyless waste of five minutes. And the post-show ImageWorks area is even worse.
Back before the first refurb, the ride took up almost the entire first floor of the building. After it was over, guests were encouraged to climb up to the ImageWorks on the second floor, which you accessed by ascending a winding staircase that took you up into the glass pyramids that are the pavilion's most distinctive feature. The second floor landing was a light and airy place that afforded a magnificent view of the rest of the park. It had a bench or two and was a good place for parents to wait if they got tired of chasing the kids through the ImageWorks' many interesting activities. It was easily the best post-show area at EPCOT. After the refurb the ImageWorks was moved downstairs. It's a sparse, empty area now, a lot like the new ride that precedes it. Mainly, it's just a showcase for some of Kodak's more banal services.
I don't have visitation statistics for this newest incarnation of the Imagination pavilion, but the two times I've been there the place seemed almost deserted. Very few guests seemed to bother with it at all. I was able to get onto the ride with no wait, and as I looked around the ImageWorks I didn't once have to worry about tripping over a kid, because there weren't very many there. I felt like I had the place to myself. So, is it worth it to have an attraction that's inexpensive to operate if no one is, you know, attracted to it? Disney used to care about such things, but these days they're too busy jacking up their prices and adding an "Up With America" room to Disneyland's It's a Small World (complete, in a rumor I just made up, with Animatronic Sean Hannity and Bill O'Reilly dolls) to care about doing things that make sense. I guess it's not surprising that Disney is acting like all the other brain-dead visionless megacorporations out there, it's just disappointing.
At least we have the Internet. For a bit of nostalgia, check out Martin Smith's excellent tribute to Journey into Imagination, the way it was:
