On the face of it, Black Mirror is a completely different sort of show to either Star Trek or The Orville. So much so that it was a genuine surprise when Trek-like imagery was revealed from the upcoming fourth series. Yet the three series are, in their own ways, doing the same thing: discussing contemporary issues, both social and technological, through the medium of science fiction. While Black Mirror episodes are set predominantly in the 21st century, albeit in a nebulous set of timeframes, they aren't so different from the 22nd to 24th century adventures of the various starships Enterprise or the 25th century voyages of the Orville. The Next Generation's many holodeck episodes, which saw fantasy realms created technologically, then go awry, aren't a million light years away from Black Mirror's explorations of virtual reality. The Orville's seventh episode, "Majority Rule," is almost a more family-friendly version of Black Mirror's third season opener "Nosedive," both of which imagine worlds in which social media "likes" determine everything from social status to legal process.
So maybe "USS Callister" isn't such an odd fish. Beginning with a note-perfect parody of an old Trek episode, in which a Shatnerising Jesse Plemons plays Captain Daly, facing down the villainous Valdak (Billy Mangussen), who is equal parts Khan and original series Klingon. It's exactly right, from the soft-focus female close-ups to the VHS frame fringeing.
It's also a fantasy, since Daly is in fact a meek coder at a successful company. The USS Callister is his own private universe, a walled-off section of his company's MMR game Infinity, into which players plug their brains. He has chosen to recreate his favourite sci-fi series, Space Fleet, as his own personal playground. To begin with, Daly's a sympathetic character, unfairly put down and used by his boss Walton (a brilliant Jimmi Simpson). It's a bit odd that his computerised crew look like his workmates, but still, it's a fantasy, and seemingly a harmless one. However, after a bad day we see him violently assaulting and tormenting his second-in-command, modelled after Walton, and it's clear there's more to this.
A new employee, Nanette, played by Cristin Milioti, initially gushes over her master coder boss, but it isn't long before she's warned away from him. Daly then takes a sample of her DNA from a discarded cup and, in a display of pseudoscience worthy of Trek, clones her within the Infinity programme. There's now a duplicate of Nanette, Science Officer Cole, existing within the confines of Daly's fantasy universe. Everyone on the Callister is a sentient duplicate of someone who has, somehow, wronged Daly in some innocuous way. It becomes clear that Daly is a sadistic dictator, an "asshole god" as Walton puts it, who wields absolute power in his domain and enforces his will with physical and psychological torture.
It's an absolutely vicious attack on a certain type of Star Trek fan. The sort of fans that the general public once popularly imagined - sad, lonely, scared of sex - but elaborated to the anti-liberal fanbros that now plague the internet. It would be easy to see this episode as an attack on Star Trek and its fans, but it's clearly written by someone who loves the show. While showrunner Charlie Brooker isn't a particular fan, his co-writer on the episode, William Bridges, has spoken about adding little homages to the franchise. It's clear that he loves it in many iterations: Daly's initial display of omnipotence is a horrifying scene in which he removes Nanette's face, leaving her featureless, blind and suffocating, and is lifted directly from the first season Star Trek episode "Charlie X." Later scenes, such as Walton's Chekov-esque dash to engineering and his heroic sacrifice, owe more to the recent reboot movies. Brooker himself has spoken about the series and how it was never intended as an attack on fans of classic sci-fi, and actually watching it, that's clearly not the case.
It's an attack on those who claim to be fans but do not understand the very thing they profess to love. Daly spouts on about Space Fleet doing things the right way, about behaving in a particular way with a particular morality and cleanliness, while exposing his true nature as the exact opposite. While he never actually rapes anyone - indeed, he seems almost terrified of sex, even to the extent of removing the genitalia of his constructs - he forces all his female crew to kiss him after every successful mission, something that smacks of the endemic male entitlement and abuse of power that sweeps the entertainment industry. (Some might read this as an attack on Kirk's character, but even at his worst Kirk wasn't like this, at least in the original. If anything, it's an attack on men like Harvey Weinstein, Bryan Singer and, indeed, Gene Roddenberry.) It's an uncompromising dissection of the sort of close-minded male uberfan who obsesses with Star Trek (or Doctor Who, or My Little Pony, or whatever) and then sends rape threats or racist bile to people involved with his favourite show because it doesn't live up to his vision.
While the Trek trappings are obvious, "USS Callister" reminded me most of the Twilight Zone episode "It's a Good Life," (effortlessly parodied in The Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror,") and above all, Harlan Ellison's terrifying short story "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream." Although, unlike those stories, in the end the episode is uplifting and victorious. Mutterings of a spin-off series are already being heard, and while that might be a bit much, a revisit to the Callister could be worthwhile. It's perhaps only a matter of time before the whole exercise eats its own tail, and a Star Trek production takes itself to task in this way.
While Discovery, The Orville and "USS Callister" are quite different productions, they all touch upon similar issues and explore similar themes. One thing is very clear: for all the ways they may or may not be doing Star Trek "right," they're all very obviously made by people with a real love of Trek. They're also doing one thing absolutely right: pissing off the sort of men who make Captain Daly look sensible and well-adjusted.
Back to part one
So maybe "USS Callister" isn't such an odd fish. Beginning with a note-perfect parody of an old Trek episode, in which a Shatnerising Jesse Plemons plays Captain Daly, facing down the villainous Valdak (Billy Mangussen), who is equal parts Khan and original series Klingon. It's exactly right, from the soft-focus female close-ups to the VHS frame fringeing.
It's also a fantasy, since Daly is in fact a meek coder at a successful company. The USS Callister is his own private universe, a walled-off section of his company's MMR game Infinity, into which players plug their brains. He has chosen to recreate his favourite sci-fi series, Space Fleet, as his own personal playground. To begin with, Daly's a sympathetic character, unfairly put down and used by his boss Walton (a brilliant Jimmi Simpson). It's a bit odd that his computerised crew look like his workmates, but still, it's a fantasy, and seemingly a harmless one. However, after a bad day we see him violently assaulting and tormenting his second-in-command, modelled after Walton, and it's clear there's more to this.
A new employee, Nanette, played by Cristin Milioti, initially gushes over her master coder boss, but it isn't long before she's warned away from him. Daly then takes a sample of her DNA from a discarded cup and, in a display of pseudoscience worthy of Trek, clones her within the Infinity programme. There's now a duplicate of Nanette, Science Officer Cole, existing within the confines of Daly's fantasy universe. Everyone on the Callister is a sentient duplicate of someone who has, somehow, wronged Daly in some innocuous way. It becomes clear that Daly is a sadistic dictator, an "asshole god" as Walton puts it, who wields absolute power in his domain and enforces his will with physical and psychological torture.
It's an absolutely vicious attack on a certain type of Star Trek fan. The sort of fans that the general public once popularly imagined - sad, lonely, scared of sex - but elaborated to the anti-liberal fanbros that now plague the internet. It would be easy to see this episode as an attack on Star Trek and its fans, but it's clearly written by someone who loves the show. While showrunner Charlie Brooker isn't a particular fan, his co-writer on the episode, William Bridges, has spoken about adding little homages to the franchise. It's clear that he loves it in many iterations: Daly's initial display of omnipotence is a horrifying scene in which he removes Nanette's face, leaving her featureless, blind and suffocating, and is lifted directly from the first season Star Trek episode "Charlie X." Later scenes, such as Walton's Chekov-esque dash to engineering and his heroic sacrifice, owe more to the recent reboot movies. Brooker himself has spoken about the series and how it was never intended as an attack on fans of classic sci-fi, and actually watching it, that's clearly not the case.
It's an attack on those who claim to be fans but do not understand the very thing they profess to love. Daly spouts on about Space Fleet doing things the right way, about behaving in a particular way with a particular morality and cleanliness, while exposing his true nature as the exact opposite. While he never actually rapes anyone - indeed, he seems almost terrified of sex, even to the extent of removing the genitalia of his constructs - he forces all his female crew to kiss him after every successful mission, something that smacks of the endemic male entitlement and abuse of power that sweeps the entertainment industry. (Some might read this as an attack on Kirk's character, but even at his worst Kirk wasn't like this, at least in the original. If anything, it's an attack on men like Harvey Weinstein, Bryan Singer and, indeed, Gene Roddenberry.) It's an uncompromising dissection of the sort of close-minded male uberfan who obsesses with Star Trek (or Doctor Who, or My Little Pony, or whatever) and then sends rape threats or racist bile to people involved with his favourite show because it doesn't live up to his vision.
While the Trek trappings are obvious, "USS Callister" reminded me most of the Twilight Zone episode "It's a Good Life," (effortlessly parodied in The Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror,") and above all, Harlan Ellison's terrifying short story "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream." Although, unlike those stories, in the end the episode is uplifting and victorious. Mutterings of a spin-off series are already being heard, and while that might be a bit much, a revisit to the Callister could be worthwhile. It's perhaps only a matter of time before the whole exercise eats its own tail, and a Star Trek production takes itself to task in this way.
While Discovery, The Orville and "USS Callister" are quite different productions, they all touch upon similar issues and explore similar themes. One thing is very clear: for all the ways they may or may not be doing Star Trek "right," they're all very obviously made by people with a real love of Trek. They're also doing one thing absolutely right: pissing off the sort of men who make Captain Daly look sensible and well-adjusted.
Back to part one
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