These Are The Voyages, TOS, Season One

by Cushman, Marc

  “It was gorgeous,” Stephen Kandel said. “It was beautiful. It was like a film set that somebody had stolen for a TV episode. And the cast, of course, was in awe of the set.” (95-1)

  George Clayton Johnson was interested in the lights on the bridge. He had often watched television shows and movies being filmed but had never seen anything like this. He said, “The crew would cut holes in one piece of plywood and cut holes in another piece of plywood so that, when you slid one board past the other, some holes would coincide. Then they’d have colored lights behind these pieces of plywood, and you got this blinking light array on the wall screens and the control consoles. And it really, really looked good.... And those sliding doors were operated by people. So, when the actors approached the damn thing, whip, it would come open. Then they’d go through and, whap, the door would go back. Just outside of range of the cameras, there were a couple of guys shoving this stuff back and forth.” (93-1)

  “There always had to be a man to operate,” said Jim Rugg. “The doors were tied together with cables and one actually opens the other.... A nice piece of sound editing in there gives you the illusion of a machine.” (147)

  In 1966, this was better than Disneyland.

  The planet set on Stage 10 was a sight to be appreciated, as well. Kay Anderson described it as “enormous... probably 3,000 feet square and 75 or 80 feet to the ceiling.” (2a)

  Desilu Stage 10, the permanent home of alien worlds

  (Courtesy Bob Olsen)

  Jerry Finnerman said, “The stage was huge, and it had a white ‘cyc’ [cyclorama] on it -- a canvas covering all around the set. And that was the ‘planet set.’” (63-3)

  The thinking was to paint backgrounds on the canvas, such as mountain ranges, skies, and clouds, as had been done in the two pilots, and had been done in motion pictures and television since the beginning of both mediums. But Robert Justman and Jerry Finnerman decided to keep the backgrounds white. That way, planet skies could be created by merely directing high-powered lights with different colored “gels” toward the walls. Easier, faster and cheaper than paint. More effective, too. Finnerman remembered that he was the one who approached Roddenberry, saying, “‘Wouldn’t it be nice to put color on the lamps. So, if you’re on an evil set, or planet, you can have a hot red sky, which shows evil. Or, if you’re on a love planet... light it to be pink.’... And he said, ‘Well, shoot a test.... You get the colors that you want and I’ll look at them.’... So... we had people and the rocks and the sand, and I lit the set and I put color on the lamps on the cyc. I had no idea what it would look like until I put them on. And it was gorgeous. I remember I used a combination of red/yellow; I used magenta; I went with the pinks; I went with the beautiful blue/green for, like, a night planet.” (63-3)

  “I thought it was just gorgeous,” said George Clayton Johnson of the colored skies. “I was completely astonished.” (93-1)

  Kay Anderson, also astonished, wrote, “The walls are made of the same sort of material home movie screens are made of, and onto them the alien-hued skies were projected.” (2a)

  Below the skies, a forced perspective was created, allowing for a range of mini-mountains to encircle the set on three sides. Anderson commented, “Near the walls are horizons of mountain ranges with walkways behind them, so visitors are often presented with the curious spectacle of curious heads peering at them from over the edge of the world.” (2a)

  On hand were tons of dirt and sand, as well as artificial rocks and even, when needed, a body of water.

  Wah Chang wrote:

  “This is a copy of the drawing I submitted to the producer before making it.”

  (Courtesy of William Krewson)

  The opposite side of the stage was left open and therefore available for the building of additional sets, such as caverns, alien buildings or spaceships and, once someone was willing to pay for it, the shuttlecraft.

  Meanwhile, having already designed the flip-open communicator (which Martin Cooper -- the creator of the first handheld cell phone -- would later cite as his inspiration), Wah Chang kept busy dreaming up the tricorder and the phaser pistol. Nothing rented. Everything invented.

  Roddenberry, meanwhile, was starting to see missed opportunities for potential personal revenue, prompting him to write to his agent, Alden Schwimmer at Ashley Famous Agency. On April 25, 1966, a bitter Roddenberry wrote:

  Have just completed sketching out for our art people a rather unique three-stage phaser hand weapon-pistol-rifle, one convertible into another. Not only do they meet Star Trek’s dramatic requirements but also they are adaptable for the toy market in which each device when added to the other does something different, new lighting effects plus new sounds plus new sighting potential…. Have also invented a “tricorder” device for our female Yeoman, again basically for dramatic uses on our show but also with female child’s toy potential, a device which acts sort of as a portable secretary-recording-photographic unit capable of taking down any information the Captain wishes at any time he is away from his bridge.... Also have spent a considerable amount of time working with our costumer, improving the basic design -- items which also have considerable sales potential. And without depreciating the work of any of our talented people involved, these are all items on which I have had to come up with the basic conception…. The point of all this, Alden, is that I am finding myself required to come up with inventions and designs far beyond what we earlier thought necessary and far beyond what any show creator-producer should be expected to provide. I absolutely am not content to see Desilu and others getting profit-loss statements on the entire show. Admittedly, Star Trek is a very special thing and requires a special kind of inventiveness, perhaps also a special kind of “unity” from one person. But however it is sliced, I find myself necessarily becoming a toy-costume-etc. creator and inventor and going far beyond what any of us conceived necessary when we set up the original contract…. The point of this all is that I am not at all happy with these provisions in this contract. They are one-sided, unfair, and each day become more demonstrably so…. I have mentioned this to Herb Solow.

  William Theiss modified the uniforms. The high collars were now gone. Per Grace Lee Whitney’s suggestion, the women’s pant suits were replaced with eye-catching miniskirts and high black boots. Shatner was pleased to report, “Star Trek, to the appreciation of all the men on the set and, in fact, all around the world, would boast the shortest skirts on women of any regular series on television.” (156-2)

  But changes and additions cost money, and little was set aside for this. These costs would have to come out of monies allocated for the production of individual episodes.

  With a per-show budget of $193,500, Star Trek would compete with the globe-trotting I Spy for the title of Most Expensive Series on Television during the 1966-67 season.

  The salaries were coming in high. As the series’ star, William Shatner was contracted to appear in every episode, at $5,000 per show. For the first five repeats, he would receive further payment equal to 20 percent of his original salary... if there were any repeats. And he would also be a limited partner, receiving 20 percent of the series’ net profits... again, should there be any. Finally, he was guaranteed a raise of $500 per episode for each year that the show stayed on the air.

  Like Shatner, Nimoy was to be in every episode produced. Billed as “co-star,” his pay was $1,250 per show. For reruns, he’d receive SAG scale plus 10 percent.

  Salaries for DeForest Kelley, Grace Lee Whitney, George Takei, and James Doohan were all absurdly cheap by today’s standards, but in line with the money being spent on TV in 1966. Roddenberry’s salary as creator and producer, was set at $3,000 per episode. John D.F. Black, carrying two separate titles as both associate producer and story editor, was banking $1,725 per episode. Robert Justman as the second associate producer, was earning $1,115. Even these prices were a fraction of what is paid today for the same jobs, inflation already factored in. It was a different world, one Star Trek would have
much to do with changing.

  Even with the modest salaries, Star Trek was budgeted above nearly all other series on television at this time. Desilu’s board of directors remained cynical. Lucille Ball, however, projected strength and confidence. Frequent memos from Herb Solow to Lucy and her worrisome board, assuring all that the development of Star Trek was progressing smoothly and close to being on budget, provided Lucy with much needed comfort. As production neared, on April 19, 1966, she wrote to Solow:

  Dear Herb: I don’t want to forget to tell you how much I appreciate your memos to me. They are very helpful, and I understand most appreciated by everyone at the studio. Be talking to you soon. Love, Lucy.

  The first episode to be filmed was “The Corbomite Maneuver,” with production scheduled to begin on May 24, 1966. All systems were go.

  8

  Episode 2: THE CORBOMITE MANEUVER

  Written by Jerry Sohl

  (with Gene Roddenberry, uncredited)

  Directed by Joseph Sargent

  Outtake with Shatner and Clint Howard (Lincoln Enterprises film trim courtesy of Gerald Gurian)

  NBC press release, issued October 18, 1966:

  Accused of trespassing in a foreign galaxy, the USS Enterprise engages in an eerie mid-space confrontation with the flagship vessel of an alien civilization, in “The Corbomite Maneuver” on the NBC Television Network colorcast of Star Trek Thursday Nov. 10.... When it becomes obvious that the enemy vessel is vastly superior in size and weaponry, Captain James Kirk (William Shatner) vainly resorts to evasive tactics, only to have his craft rendered powerless by his adversary, Captain Balok (Clint Howard). A battle of wits ensues between the two spacecraft commanders when Kirk angrily defies a surrender ultimatum in a desperate ruse to gain time.

  The penalty for trespassing in this area of space is death, and the helpless Captain Kirk is only given 10 minutes to prepare his crew for execution. With those precious few minutes ticking away, tension on the bridge mounts, taking an especially high toll on Lt. Bailey, a young officer who Dr. McCoy feels Kirk promoted too quickly.

  This is not Man against Beast, as first glance at the face of Balok’s grotesque alter ego might have us believe. Kirk says it while addressing his crew over the intercom: “You know the greatest danger facing us is ourselves -- an irrational fear of the unknown. But there is no such thing as the unknown. There are only things temporarily hidden, temporarily not understood. In most cases, we have found that intelligence capable of a civilization is capable of understanding peaceful gestures.... All decks stand by, Captain out.”

  SOUND BITES

  - Dr. McCoy, talking to himself: “If I jumped every time a light came on around here, I’d end up talking to myself.”

  - Lt. Bailey: “Raising my voice back there doesn’t mean I was scared or couldn’t do my job. It means I happen to have a human thing called an adrenaline [sic] gland.” Mr. Spock: “It does sound most inconvenient. Have you considered having it removed?”

  - Bailey: “We've got phaser weapons. I vote we blast it!” Kirk: “I'll keep that in mind, Mister Bailey, when this becomes a democracy.”

  - Mr. Spock: “Has it occurred to you that there's a certain inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about?” Kirk: “It gives me emotional security.”

  - Bailey: “I don’t understand this at all. Spock’s wasting time; everyone else just sitting around. Somebody’s got to do something! What do they want from us? Let’s find out what they want us to do!” Kirk: “They want us to lose our heads...” Bailey: “We’ve got only eight minutes left!” Sulu: “Seven minutes and forty-one seconds.” Bailey: “He’s doing a countdown!”

  - Mr. Spock: “I regret not having learned more about this Balok. In some manner he was reminiscent of my father.” Scott: “Then, may Heaven have helped your mother.”

  ASSESSMENT

  The cleverness of this script lies in the scope of its back-story. The space buoy the Enterprise first encounters – that “cube in space” -- is the “fly paper” which lures us into this well constructed tale. Like the game of chess -- or poker -- played out by the two captains, each move in this story reveals a new layer, enriched with surprise. And the surprises are wonderful: the Enterprise being confronted by the grandness of Balok’s mother ship as it dwarfs the Earth vessel; meeting the real Balok, a man who physically resembles a child; and then discovering this strange alien’s true intent.

  A soon-to-be recurring theme of Star Trek -- that mankind is worthwhile even though we humans are flawed -- is already in place. And those flawed humans make for great conflict. Bailey’s gradual breakdown is superbly played, as he withdraws into shock and loses the ability to relate to his colleagues. Kirk is in the hot seat, all eyes on him, and one pair flashing disapproval. McCoy enjoys the privilege of being the only one on board who can needle the Captain, and then that teasing turns serious as the Doc challenges Kirk about his judgment, his intent, and even his weight. When being ribbed about the pretty yeoman, Kirk admits that he already has a woman in his life -- her name is the Enterprise. Kirk only has love for her.

  The characters, fleshed out and three-dimensional as the sector of space they intrude upon, carry the story. With so much going for it, “Corbomite” doesn’t need fast pacing or a variety of sets. Like a tautly written stage play, our attention is held fast.

  THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY

  Script Timeline

  Jerry Sohl’s story outline, ST #6, “Danger Zone”: Late March 1966.

  Sohl’s revised outline, gratis, now entitled “The Corbomite Maneuver”: April 4, 1966.

  Gene Roddenberry’s revised story outline: April 7, 1966.

  Sohl’s 1st Draft teleplay: April 21, 1966.

  Sohl’s 2nd Draft teleplay: April 29, 1966.

  Sohl’s gratis script polish (Mimeo Department “Yellow Cover 1st Draft”):

  May 3, 1966.

  Gene Roddenberry’s first rewrite (Final Draft teleplay): May 9, 1966.

  Roddenberry second rewrite (Rev. Final Draft teleplay): May 12, 1966.

  Roddenberry’s third rewrite (2nd Rev. Final Draft teleplay): May 20, 1966.

  Additional page revisions by Roddenberry: May 23 & 25, 1966.

  “The Corbomite Maneuver” was designed to introduce us to the crew of the Enterprise and their ship. William Shatner said, “We couldn’t have asked for an easier maiden voyage, and for that reason it was hoped that this simple, self-contained story would allow us to ease ourselves into the rigors of weekly shooting.” (156-8)

  Jerry Sohl provided the not-as-simple-as-it-seemed premise. The 51-year-old was best known and respected for his popular science fiction novels, such as Costigan’s Needle and The Mars Monopoly. He had already written for The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits and, with less artistic respect, cheap monster films for the big screen.

  Daily Variety called 1965’s Die, Monster, Die “a routine sci-fi horror... slowly paced in scripting and direction.” For 1966’s Monster of Terror, which the trade labeled as another “routine horror pic,” the critic wrote, “Jerry Sohl’s screenplay hasn’t much nerve to it.” Sohl didn’t even bother taking a writing credit for the 1966 Japanese horror, Frankenstein Conquers the World.

  Roddenberry, having befriended Sohl while researching and writing the Star Trek pilots, was determined to make him one of the series’ first writers. Sohl was invited to Desilu for the initial screening of “Where No Man Has Gone Before” on March 7, 1966, the first of seven such private play dates. Also in attendance that day, and given Star Trek writing assignments: John D.F. Black, Lee Erwin, Don Ingalls, Stephen Kandel, Adrian Spies and renowned science fiction author A.E. van Vogt.

  As for the story’s origin, Sohl recalled, “I was thinking, suppose you ran across a cube in space. A cube is so damn finitive [sic] and so square and so unlike nature, that you know right away it represents intelligent life. ‘What is it doing there?’ It’s like an electronic warning system at the frontie
r.” (160-2)

  Sohl’s outline from March 1966 was called “Danger Zone.” It was rough, of course. Many of the characters of the series, as well as the technology of the Enterprise, were still on the drawing boards. Sohl was paid for the outline and then rewrote it for free, with a title change to “The Corbomite Maneuver,” now emphasizing the bluff Kirk plays to save his ship. Upon reading this draft, associate producer Robert Justman wrote to Roddenberry:

  For the most part am greatly pleased with Jerry Sohl’s revised outline.... He has done everything that we discussed together last time we met and has tightened up the story considerably so that it really works. (RJ2-1)

  Justman couldn’t help but be pleased this first time out. More than 90% of the story stayed on the Enterprise and most of that on the bridge. This was a show Star Trek could certainly afford to make.

  Stan Robertson at the network had mixed feelings, writing Roddenberry:

  The story snares our attention right from the top and builds for three-and-a-half acts to a pinnacle... and then goes downhill in the final few critical moments. (SR2-1)

  Robertson was right. In this version, after the Enterprise breaks free of Balok’s smaller secondary ship, the seemingly unconscious alien Commander, a normal-sized humanoid, is brought aboard and rushed to sickbay. This is the final test of Kirk’s crew by Balok -- to see what they will do once he appears helpless. Their humanitarian goodwill impresses him and he accepts their friendship. This ending lacked the cleverness that was yet to come.

  A new draft of the outline was quickly written by Roddenberry, this one containing the spin at the end -- Balok now described as an adult alien resembling a human child. Jerry Sohl approved of the change, later saying, “They added the fellow at the end, which was like so many of my novels, where a little kid is behind the whole thing. That tickled Gene Roddenberry. And Robert Justman was taken by the whole thing.” (160-2)