These Are The Voyages, TOS, Season One
Page 55
Our Communications Officer is Uhura, played by the charming Negro actress Nichelle Nichols, who is one of the great undiscovered singing talents around town. What would work well, and could make another memorable scene in this episode, is having Lieutenant Daiken alone in the scene, saving the cost of actor “Jeff”…. We’ll have our composer Sandy Courage give us a nice space ballad, couple it with the golden voice of our actress who plays Lieutenant Uhura [over the intercom], then, in the close of the song, instead of having to bring actor Jeff in, we’ll have a glowing, happy Uhura ask her friend down below how he liked it, hear the choking sounds, him trying to ask for help; the body thud -- she gives the alarm. At the end of Act Two, Star Trek will come up against the CBS movie. Can we hypo this ending hook at all? Possibly would help if we have Daiken at this point seeming to be dying, and Doc and Spock stating that there is now only one man left who can identify Kodos -- Captain Kirk!
It was an idea that stuck, and played out just as Roddenberry had envisioned it. But 12 pages of notes filled with potentially good ideas was more work than Trivers was willing to deal with at this stage.
It was happening again; a writer had delivered three drafts of a story outline, was then given the go-ahead to use the structure established therein to create his teleplay, had done so, had revised his screenplay, had revised it again, and now wanted out.
Trivers balked at the request for a free polish just as Adrian Spies had. He went a step further -- he complained to his agent, especially making an issue of how long Roddenberry’s memo to him had been.
A week later, Roddenberry sent Trivers another letter, telling him:
Talked to your agent the other day... He quite understood my point that on a really bad script you can have short memos consisting of a lot of “I don’t like it,” “I don’t believe it.” “Bad dialogue,” etc. It takes a great deal more to take a fine script and try to isolate a line or a small bit of action, to figure out why it’s maybe a little bit off. (GR12-3)
After the praise came the guilt, as Roddenberry continued:
[I] told him it should not be a rewrite, I don’t want one, and if my suggestions about repositioning some scenes causes you great trouble and seems unfair, will be glad to do it myself, of course.... I may have let my enthusiasm for the script run away with me -- being more the writer than producer, saying to myself, “This is good, let’s milk those fine moments, let’s not take any chance that an inconsistency will harm it,” and so on. (GR12-3)
Then came the bribe. Roddenberry told Trivers:
With what little script money I have available, am much more interested to getting you to work on some new stories. (GR12-3)
Translation: “If I pay you additional money on this first script, I won’t be able to give you a new script assignment, which, in the end, will pay you much more.”
Roddenberry would make good on his promise with a future writing assignment for Trivers (the unproduced “Portrait in Black and White”). For now, he wanted changes he forgot to ask for in the previous letter -- the letter that caused all the fuss. He continued:
Can we milk the phaser danger more? See what you think.... Couldn’t Kirk hit an alarm once he realizes what it is? Also, can’t believe it’ll blow up the “ship,” since Lenore would then be killing her own father, too, even if she didn’t care about herself. Blowing up the deck seems sufficient. (GR12-3)
Three more pages of additional notes followed. Trivers surrendered and wrote a fourth draft -- his second free one -- and sent the Revised 2nd Draft in on July 11. Following the lead of Richard Matheson and George Clayton Johnson, Trivers typed “Final Draft” on his script.
Was it worth all the arm twisting and a commitment now to give Barry Trivers a second script assignment? John D.F. Black answered that, writing Roddenberry:
Gene: I have only one general comment to make regarding this script -- all the dialogue requires a deep examination and an extremely heavy rewrite. This, of course, implies that the character relationships are likewise -- primarily, they are two-dimensional at most -- more often than not, one-dimensional -- and totally without feeling. (JDFB12-2)
Black’s memo cited dozens of examples of what he believed to be unacceptable dialogue and characterizations. One thing he had been noticing, in this script and with others, including a recent rewrite of “The Galileo Seven” by Shimon Wincelberg, was that whenever Kirk was troubled, he stopped eating. After being subjected to one too many of these not-so-dramatic beats, Black told Roddenberry:
Here. Guess what? Dr. McCoy says, “Your food came back to the galley untouched. What’s the matter with it?” It would appear that Dr. McCoy / Janice Rand / Barry Trivers / Shimon Wincelberg / Damn Near Everybody Else is more concerned with when Kirk eats than pretty near anything else. If it is at all possible to cut the food shtick, I think it would behoove us.... here: Doc says, “It’s just possible your appetite may improve now.” And Kirk says, “Why do you say that?” And Doc says, “We now have ham on the menu.” Question: Is this an Act ending? Another question: Does Shimon Wincelberg collaborate with Barry Trivers?... End Act 1. Thank God. (JDFB12-2)
As Black’s seven pages of notes came to an end, he added:
This script now counts about 70 pages. Presuming that all the inane flab is removed and the scenes are paced to size, I have the feeling we should be at least 20 pages short. (JDFB12-2)
Justman checked in the following day with five pages of his own peeves, including:
None of our regulars seem to be saying things the way we’re used to having them said. Nor are they doing things the way we’re used to seeing them done. Everyone seems puppet-like in order to facilitate the constructional needs of the script. (RJ12-4)
Fretting over the cost of converting script to film, Justman once again asked, “Do we need Yeoman Janice Rand in this show?” (RJ12-4)
It was now clear to the creative staff that there was no point in twisting Triver’s arm for another rewrite. And this brought up several questions. First, how could writers of the caliber of Barry Trivers and Adrian Spies -- tried and true professionals -- keep missing so badly? Answer One: Star Trek had yet to beam into their living rooms; the writers were still, by and large, writing blind. Answer Two: the characters Gene Roddenberry created were unique and behaved and spoke in very specific ways. Was there really any character on any other show from this time that resembled Spock, or, for that matter, Kirk?
Or perhaps, in this case, it had to do entirely with the writer. John D.F. Black, normally an advocate for the show’s writers and protective of their material, said, “Barry Trivers was a nice man… and he was very involved with the Writers Guild. But let’s put it this way: he was more involved with the Writers Guild than the script he wrote for us.” (17)
A more urgent question, then, was who would do the near “Page One” rewrite? It was the second week of August by this point. John Black was winding down with his final polish of “Miri” and first draft of “From the First Day to the Last.” Roddenberry was hip deep during this week in finishing his rewriting of “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” and “Dagger of the Mind.” The answer: two men who were brand new to Star Trek and barely knew the show: Gene L. Coon and Steven Carabatsos.
Carabatsos dealt with “Conscience” while Coon focused on a final rewrite of “Miri.” Carabatsos sent his draft to the Mimeo Department for reformatting as the Yellow Cover 1st Draft, dated August 11. Justman sent Coon word before the end of the day -- Carabatsos hadn’t gotten off to a good start. But Justman saw the potential for better work and told Coon:
Kirk discovers the fact that Dr. Leighton has been killed. Do you think it would be more dramatic for Kirk to find Leighton’s body, rather than to have someone else tell him about it?... What song does Uhura sing? I may be wrong, but I got the feeling that the Producer wanted Lt. Uhura to sing a song in this show. So therefore the writer wrote in “a song.”... I find it difficult to believe the explosion sequence as written.... I find it difficult to
believe that Sulu comes running in for one sequence in a whole show. In fact, I find it difficult to believe that anyone would come running into the Captain’s cabin.... I ask, please, for Scene 102 to be written correctly so that each individual set is listed separately with its own Scene Number and what is happening within that scene number. This will give us a better idea as to the true length of this script and what we are supposed to do with it. (RJ12-5)
As for that song “the producer wanted,” Roddenberry was at work writing -- not the song, but a memo -- to Wilbur Hatch, Desilu’s Music Director. He explained to Hatch his reasons for needing to bother him to come up with something for Nichelle Nichols to sing. Roddenberry told how moments like this would help the audience to better identify with these characters from the future. He added:
We’ve had considerable letters requesting more information on Uhura’s “Spock and Charlie X” song, [which] reinforces this belief with both us and NBC. (GR12-4)
On the same day Coon received his first script notes from Robert Justman, he also received his first notes from Roddenberry -- six pages worth. One involved the tone of the material, with Roddenberry writing:
While I do like Kirk-Spock-McCoy relaxation, family group dialogue, etc., we seem to get a little cute about it in the script. (GR12-5)
In time, this would become a major sore spot between the two Genes. Coon had both a talent and an inclination for writing warm and teasing dialogue between characters that have a history with one another, rich with elements of natural humor. Roddenberry had worked hard to set a much different tone for Star Trek. These were serious -- even brooding -military men with a life and death job to do. Kirk might tease Spock in a very subtle manner. McCoy might do it more so, but Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek was not going to become light in nature, especially when dealing with the subject and the theme of episodes such as “The Conscience of the King.” Regarding this, he wrote:
Mr. Spock comes off a bit too much like a “buddy” in this script. While we have already played a strong personal relationship between Spock and Kirk, in the past we’ve always kept Spock a bit on the “stuffy” side, taking the curse off it by making it clear he wants to be very casual and human and friendly but his stoic nature fighting constantly against it. Then, when in moment of crises, Spock does resort to the familiar “Jim.” We then understand it is indeed a big moment. We have a good actor in Leonard Nimoy, he does have the ability to play “stuffy” and computer-like and, at the same time, play the struggle of trying to be warm, if the dialogue and situation give him half a chance at it. Perhaps “stuffy” is the wrong word; the right term may be more on the order of “proud” or “formal.” (GR12-5)
Roddenberry closed:
Despite the length of my above memo, do not believe we are in great trouble on this script. We have a good story skeleton of an interesting melodrama. Something quite different from any of our other episodes. (GR12-5)
Perhaps not in great trouble, but, by referring to the fifth draft of a teleplay as “a good story skeleton,” it was clear to everyone that they were at least in fair trouble.
After “Miri” wrapped, the Star Trek stages went dark for nine days for the Labor Day break, while the cast hit the road to promote the series’ premiere on NBC. This allowed Gene Coon and Steven Carabatsos to further educate and immerse themselves in Star Trek, with additional screenings, more script reading and more rewriting.
Coon’s first draft was the Final Draft, dated August 23, with revised pages from August 25 and 30. One thing added into the script at this time, for the benefit of Robert Justman and his stop-watch, was the lyric to that song Roddenberry had asked be performed. It was Gene Coon who proved to be a competent lyricist with the words to “Beyond Antares.” The music was composed by Wilbur Hatch.
After reading the latest draft, Roddenberry memo’d Coon:
I think it’s going to make a good show. Seems to me the main thing it needs now is some hypo-ing of the characterizations and of the dramatic and melodramatic moments. (GR12-6)
In other words, once again, everything.
Coon delivered a new rewrite -- the Revised Final Draft, dated September 8. The character of Daiken was now changed to Kevin Riley. Yeoman Janice Rand’s role in the story would dwindle with each new set of revisions from Coon, on September 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 19 and 20, as the episode was filming. A final handful of page revisions arrived on September 22, after filming had concluded, adding in additional Captain’s Log entries and “wild lines.” It was a good script now, but it would have been better if Coon had stopped rewriting it a few days before he did.
Pre-Production
September 6-9 and 12, 1966 (5 days prep).
Gerd Oswald was hired to direct. He was 46 and, just prior to World War II, had begun his show business career as an actor in Germany. Fleeing the Nazi regime, Oswald came to America and moved behind the camera, first as an assistant director on 1939's Hitler -- Beast of Berlin, then as a director in television for Perry Mason, Rawhide, and The Fugitive, among other series. He also had experience in science fiction with one episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and more directing assignments on The Outer Limits than anyone else -- 14, including “Soldier,” written by Harlan Ellison, and “The Expanding Human,” featuring James Doohan and future two-time Star Trek guest performer Skip Homeier. Oswald seemed a good fit for Star Trek.
Bruce Hyde, returning as Lt. Kevin Riley, said, "Gerd was a nice guy, good director, but very different from Marc Daniels. Gerd was also an actor and sometimes played Nazis, I believe; and there was this somewhat stiff Prussian quality to his personality.” (88-4)
Hyde was making his second appearance as Lt. Kevin Riley. Because of his value to Desilu, with the pilot film for “Digby” still waiting on the network’s verdict, Hyde was paid a generous salary -- in terms of 1966 TV wages for secondary guest players. He received a flat rate of $650 for three days work. The going rate for anyone else with his limited credentials would have been $300 to $450.
Arnold Moss was an obvious choice to play Anton Karidian, aka Kodos the Executioner. Moss was a Shakespearean stage actor who, in 1953, played King Lear on television. He also appeared as an array of Mexican banditos, Arab Sheiks, and American Indians. He was 56.
Anderson and Shatner, behind-the-scenes shot taken during filming (Courtesy of Gerald Gurian)
Barbara Anderson, the lovely but demented Lenore, was only 20. She said, “That was my first year in television. I was a stage actress. When I was a teenager I was doing Shakespeare, so I could handle parts like this even though I was so young. They hired Arnold and me because you can’t fake that. You either had experience with it or you’d have trouble. The hard part was doing it for television instead of in a theater. I had to pull it in. The camera puts everyone in the front row. I wasn’t fearful, but I was young and doing a new medium, and they are going so fast. I mean, my goodness, the speed in which they had to film.” (1)
Anderson is best known for the work that immediately followed Star Trek, a four-year stint on Ironside, bringing her three Emmy nominations for Best Supporting Actress in a Drama. She won the trophy the third time out, in 1968. In 1972, she was reunited with William Shatner for “Cocaine,” an episode of Mission: Impossible.
William Sargent played Dr. Tom Leighton. He worked often in television. The series he frequented the most: The Twilight Zone, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Invaders and The F.B.I..
Natalie Norwich played Martha Leighton. She also was a regular on series TV, with numerous appearances on Perry Mason, Dark Shadows, and Have Gun - Will Travel. One of her seven guest spots on the latter was written by Gene Roddenberry.
Eddie Paskey was finally given a name for the character he played in so many episodes of Star Trek. He is stationed at the helm for this episode, and Kirk addresses him as Mr. Leslie.
For the first time, the guest players had a chance to see what they were walking into. Star Trek’s NBC premiere, “The Man Trap,” aired Thursday night, S
eptember 8, four-and-a-half days before the start of production on “The Conscience of the King.”
Production Diary
Filmed September 13, 14, 15, 16, 19, 20 & 21, 1966.
(Planned as 6 day production; running one day over; total cost: $184,859.)
Tuesday, September 13, 1966. Bonnie and Clyde, with Warren Beatty and Fay Donahue, remained the top film in U.S. movie houses. The Monkees TV series had premiered the night before on NBC. CBS was the ratings leader, however, with its popular comedy block of Gilligan’s Island, The Lucy Show, The Andy Griffith Show, and Family Affair. Beatlemania was still going strong. The group had the No. 1 LP in the U.S. with Revolver. They also had Yesterday … and Today and Rubber Soul sitting in the upper regions of the album charts; the No. 2 single: “Yellow Submarine” flipped by “Eleanor Rigby”; and, two weeks earlier, they had just wound-up their world tour in San Francisco’s Candlestick Park. The most played song on American radio, however, was by The Supremes, with “You Can’t Hurry Love,” proving that Motown was flying high. And so was Star Trek. There was much conversation between cast and crew on the set this morning, having returned from a two-week break and with the series’ network debut airing just days before. Early rating reports indicated the premiere episode had not only won its time slot but devastated the competition on ABC and CBS, capturing nearly half the TV sets running in America.
For many, work began before the sun rose. Barbara Anderson recalled, “I got in at 5 in the morning because we didn’t have handheld blow dryers, so I had to go under a hair dryer and sit there for 45 minutes. And then makeup. So when working in TV, I always felt my day was 5 to 7. But I was young and it was good, and I was very lucky. I was working with some really good people.” (1)