What happens when you give the keys to the *Star Trek* kingdom to the director of the *Fast and the Furious* movies? You get a franchise known for its thematic depth and attention to character reduced to a series of whiz-bang action sequences and only the shallow veneer of theme or character development on top of it. Make no mistake, *Star Trek Beyond* is a film that can barely get the surface-level details right, and stumbles in its abbreviated attempts to go beyond them. And the result is a generally dull action film that could have its serial numbers shaved off and thus be wholly unrecognizable as anything related to *Star Trek*.

The film is most striking in how it fails where its predecessors succeeded. It's true that there was little of the heady optimism at play in the 2009 *Star Trek* reboot, but what the movie lacked in thematic heft, it made up for in terms of giving the audience a journey focused on character. The greatest conflicts in the film are not between the Enterprise and the Romulans, but within and between the film's two biggest characters. Kirk starts out as a good-for-little scoundrel and through his experiences in the film, evolves into an officer, albeit one who is still charmingly rough around the edges. Spock starts out as a man unable to reconcile his human side and his Vulcan side, and through his experiences in the film's adventure, he find balance and peace. Most importantly, those two character arcs intersect in meaningful ways and make us invested in those in charge of the enterprise.

By contrast, *Beyond* suggests a similarly intriguing start for both Kirk and Spock, but peters out between the beginning of their journey and the intended destination. The idea of a somewhat jaded James T. Kirk, having lost some of his passion, wondering if his mission even matters given the enormity of space, and contemplating whether to hang up his spurs, is a superb one that made me think director Justin Lin and writer Simon Pegg (who also plays Scotty) and Doug Jung (who plays Sulu's husband) were following the 2009 film's lead in this regard. Similarly, the notion that Spock, rattled by his alternative timeline counterpart's death, also feels inclined to give up Starfleet to focus on carrying on the elder Spock's goal to rehabilitate the Vulcan people, creates numerous storytelling possibilities and a parallel sense of restlessness to the character that mirrors Kirk's. The state of play as *Beyond* begins seems poised to tell another compelling, character-focused story of growth and change.

Instead, by the end of the film, Kirk has decided to stay in active duty; Spock stays a part of his crew, and the reasons for their change of heart are fuzzy at best. Whereas the 2009 film spent ample time showing events that marked the changes in Kirk and Spock's mentalities and perspective, *Beyond* amounts to something along the lines of, "They wanted to leave. They went on an adventure. Now they don't" without nearly enough connective tissue to get at the *why* of the shift in their plans. It's an Underpants Gnomes approach to character development that falls flat. There are vague concepts of "unity" as an important principle floating the film, but *Beyond* does little to tie it into concrete incidents that motivate Kirk and Spock to be in a different place at the end of the film than they were at the beginning. Instead, they just go on an adventure and come back different, which makes their supposed evolution narrative unsatisfying and ultimately unearned.

It doesn't help that the whole "unity is good" concept underlying the film is dramatized in about as shallow and trite a manner as one could imagine. It's a fluffy theme to begin with, and *Star Trek Beyond* doesn't do much to make it any more weighty or meaningful in how its realized in the conflict of the film or the characters' actions, especially in the context of on-the-nose dialogue to that effect. Say what you will about *Star Trek Into Darkness*, and there's plenty to say, but at least the film had the moxie to explore, as its hallowed predecessors did, some of the major social and political issues of the day. There's room to criticize *Into Darkness*'s approach, and other flaws derivative elements that hobbled the film out of the gate, but tackling concepts of militarization and the security state feels of a piece with the politically-charged spirit of The Original Series and its successors. Its reach exceeded its grasp, but there was a nobility in the attempt.

*Beyond*, on the other hand, is content to coast on a vague *Barney*-esque notion of teamwork as a guiding principle and theme that barely feels worthy of a generic space adventure, let alone a franchise like *Star Trek*. The new ally introduced in the film is a lone wolf, wayward traveler brought into the Starfleet fold, whereas it's villain is motivated by a rejection of unity and the benefits of collective action, in a skin-deep realization of that contrast meant to be the film's focal point. Idris Elba is completely wasted in the latter role, an outstanding actor reduced to snarls and platitudes that do not do him justice. In fact, few cast members are given material worthy of their talents. What little they're given to work with in terms of expressing this theme, undercooked though it may be, is lost in a sea of stock beats and action set pieces that feel almost wholly disconnected and inadequate to convey what the film is shooting for.

Those set pieces, which ought to be the saving grace of bringing in a director like Justin Lin, are also a surprising weakness for the film. While there's no shortage of action, almost all of it is shot and directed in a nigh-incoherent fashion that makes it difficult to follow what's happening from scene to muddled scene. Lin and cinematographer Stephen F. Windon pay little mind to ideas of geography or scope, rendering what ought to be a strength of *Beyond*, instead a collection of occasionally-cool moments with little to put them in context with one another. The film can boast an enjoyable anti-gravity sequence, and its Beastie Boys-fueled excitement is enjoyable if silly, but for the most part, the visual fireworks of *Beyond* fizzle out into a hodgepodge of undifferentiated combat and explosions.

The film does have its merits. The dynamic between Spock and Bones is the best realized element of the film and lives up to the humor and endearing qualities that Leonard Nimoy and DeForest Kelley imbued into that relationship. And for however much the film's action falters, its design work is impeccable, from the unique look of newcomer Jaylah to the geometric wizardry of the Yorktown Space Station. But they pale in comparison to the fundamental elements of *Star Trek*, whether they be from the pre-2009 shows and movies or the Abrams films, where *Beyond* totally misfires.

At its best, *Star Trek* features the focus on character that drove the original series, bolstered the 2009 reboot, and is realized in only a meager, perfunctory fashion in *Beyond*. The franchise can soar in its examination of meaningful social and political issues in a fantastical setting, in keeping with its science fiction roots, a virtue *Beyond* sacrifices in favor of a generic message about working together. This film skips the heavy lifting of showing us how the characters at the core of the franchise develop and grow, and the burden of telling a story that can be both heady and thrilling, in favor of an easy, unambitious action film that has a handful of good moments, but only the patina of what made *Star Trek* special. *Star Trek Beyond* is like any other middling cinematic sci-fi adventure of the past decade, with only a Trek-inspired coat of paint to distinguish it, and that's the film's greatest sin.


**Edit:** On rewatch nearly five years later I...still agree almost completely with my previous review. I probably wouldn't rate it as poorly, but even knowing where everything is heading, this film is a narrative mess that substitutes bland platitudes and indiscriminate action for having an actual story or character or point with any genuine depth. With Simon Pegg as a credited screenwriter, there's more charming references to *The Original Series* (e.g. Kirk ripping his shirt, Chekov claiming that scotch is Russian) and even some homages to *Star Trek: Enterprise* (a mention of the Xindi!). But those cute callbacks don't make up for this flashy, indiscriminate clump of a movie.

The one thing I would revise is that there's at least a decent arc for Spock here. he thinks that living up to Spock Prime's legacy means leaving Starfleet to help Vulcans, only to see how much his friends and colleagues need him and realize that Spock Prime's legacy was helping and standing by his friends. It's bare bones, but it's there, and the movie deserves credit for it.

Still, a rewatch does this no favors. If anything, it just confirms the film's Underpants Gnomes approach to storytelling, the jumbled pacing and lumpy structure, and the unavailing action sequences that make it something less than the fun success of *ST'09* and less even than the noble failure of *Into Darkness*. I'd probably upgrade it to a [5.5/10], but it's still a real low-light among the reboot films.