Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
I Am, and Shall Always Be, Your Fan
You can imagine James Doohan sitting in heaven, having a wee dram, and raising his head when he suddenly hears something. Everyone else is announced with bells, you know. This is a high, familiar white. DeForest Kelley rolls his eyes.
“Pointy-eared hobgoblin made it,” he says.
—
In 1992 — February 26th, in fact — the Smithsonian opened a Star Trek exhibit. Props and models and costumes to some; holy relics for others. The press was invited to a special event before the doors were opened to the public, and the entire cast was there, seated in front of an Apollo mission lunar lander. After questions and answers from the adoring press, everyone filed into the exhibit to take pictures of the cast standing next to something they’d held a quarter-century before for a few minutes. Shatner, I recall, didn’t have much time for this stuff. Nimoy, I recall, had a grand time, and I remember the thing that was the most UnSpockish: that great toothy smile of delight.
Spock did smile, of course. Once before the character was nailed down. Once when he was suffering from a script that required him to show emotion. Once when he was so overjoyed he hadn’t killed his best friend he completely lost all control and was happy. The older Nimoy got, the more Spock seemed to smile — without ever actually doing it. That’s why he was so good, and that’s why we expected we might actually see him appear one more time in a movie or TV show. To do the one thing that went against his character as he had defined him — and completed the character as he played him for decades.
Few actors, if they’re lucky, get to define a character. Nimoy defined a species. There would be other Vulcans, but they all played off the way he played Spock. The super-rational / unemotional character was originally imagined as a female first officer, and as played by Majel Barrett — creator Gene Roddenberry’s wife — she was rather off-putting. The idea of a human who had absolutely no emotional reactions to anything made her uninteresting, and they retooled the character to come up with Spock. He didn’t lack emotions — if anything, he had more than anyone else. He didn’t suppress them. He didn’t deny them. He just took them off the table, put them off to the side.
Nimoy’s challenge was to make this character not only compelling but sympathetic. Perhaps he decided he would under-act in exact proportion to Shatner’s over-acting. The raised eyebrow, that was the brilliant touch. It could be scientific curiosity in the face of certain death; amusement over someone’s sputtering idiocy; forbearance; disapproval. His posture was a model of self-control; the only time he ever indicated exertion was when he pursed his lips. Nimoy gave Spock just a few tics and traits, and from this spare toolbox created a character of surprisingly emotional resonance.
The actors who played Vulcans after Nimoy played a facet of Spock. Mark Leonard, who played Spock’s father, amplified the gravitas. Tim Russ, who played Tuvok on Voyager, picked up the peevish annoyance with humans. T’pol from Enterprise, played by Jolene Blalock, channeled the sarcasm. Zack Quinto, tasked with the job of recreating Spock in the current movies, had to add something, and that was the rage and violence the “Amok Time” episode explained away as mindless animal passion. They’re all good. Not one of them has Nimoy’s ability to make Spock funny, which he could do with understatement (“That renowned Tholian punctuality,” a line delivered as dry as a baked brick) or anal-retentive cluelessness.
Everyone had to be different than Nimoy’s creation, but there was nothing they could do he hadn’t done already.
Like Holmes, Spock died; like Holmes, he came back, although it was different. If you watched Star Trek II the first day it came out and had avoided any spoiler, Spock’s death was a shock; when he stood up after saving the ship and Picarded his tunic, you realized: crap, they’re really going to do this. Seeing Kirk slumped on the other side of the glass in despair after Spock turned away to die was like being six and seeing your father cry. Then the funeral speech. Those damned bagpipes.
http://youtu.be/vtQUePN5y40
It felt immensely sad then. All these years on, and it feels the same today.
Published in General
After growing up with the re-runs in the 70s, Wrath of Khan was a significant piece of story-telling to me as an impressionable 15 year old.
A big (shared) part of many of our lives. A talented man, who brought so much of himself to his art – acting, writing, directing, photography, and – yes – music.
Why it is frequently so hard to say goodbye, even to someone whom you’ve never met: he gave to us.
Safe home, Leonard Nimoy.
So is it OK, now, to admit that I clapped my hands in delight upon hearing Leonard Nimoy read the famous quotes that pop up as you make progress in Civilization IV?
And let’s not forget:
He lived long, and he prospered . . .
Thank you for this post. I grew up watching Star Trek re-runs in the 70’s and still have a special place in my heart for Captain Kirk and First Officer Spock to this day. I too will miss Leonard Nimoy.
I know it was a TV show. I know it was a bunch of movies. I know it was paint and costumes and cheap special effects. I know I’ve never met the guy, and so… logically… it should be silly to feel like crap right now.
But it doesn’t change the fact that I do. This day stinks.
That was fantastic, James.
Amen and seconded
Spot on. Wonderful post, James.
That was quite a fireball when he hit the planet. How was his body not vaporized? Have to call shenanigans on his later resurrection.
My children have never seen Wrath of Kahn…tonight that will be fixed.
Actors hate to be typecast but at a certain point you have to embrace it. Sometimes the actor’s personal character becomes so well defined that’s who you see. It made no difference what the role was you always saw Bing Crosby or Bob Hope or John Wayne. Other times it was the character that defined the actor. I wouldn’t see William Powell, I would see Nick Charles. I wouldn’t see Leonard Nimoy, I would see Spock.
One of the few times I saw beyond the Spock role was Nimoy’s turn as Theo Van Gogh, telling the story of his famous brother Vincent.
I also remember the tale of how the Rabbi of his youth inspired the Vulcan hand greeting. Shalom.
Amen, I had the opportunity to see him act live in a small theater in Sacramento, California, many, many years ago….. I too have a sense of personal loss.
That was great, thanks. Looking forward to the next podcast!
The actual response was “Peace and long life”.
Which he had.
Beautiful post, James. Thanks for writing it.
Thanks James.
Leonard Nimoy helped create one of the great original characters. As you said, there have been other logic-man archetypes*, but Mr. Spock was truly original. What made his character work was his humanity, especially expressed in his friendship with Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. Spock had an austere affect, but he prioritized his duty and friendship above all else, and Nimoy made sure the audience knew it.
I haven’t followed much of Nimoy’s career outside of Star Trek, but I remember two things from my 90s adolescence: he was the host of a 70s-era paranormal documentary called In Search Of that I found quite interesting at the age of 15, and that I once heard him as the host of a public radio program on Jewish spiritual music. His tastes were diverse and interesting, and the world is lesser without him.
Farewell, Mr. Nimoy.
*Curious question: did Shakespeare create such a character?
James did a great post. I grew up on the original Star Trek, and like most, loved Spock the most.
Leonard Nimoy was never able to escape that character, and I’m glad he was reconciled to it later in life. Though it was limiting in one sense. It meant he couldn’t be an everyman like, say, Jack Lemmon was, and everyman was probably Nimoy’s best chance for greatness, though I don’t think he would have made it to greatness.
His is not a bad legacy. There are a lot of forgotten journeyman actors out there, and to be honest, that’s where Nimoy was probably headed without Spock. He would have been good enough to make a living at his craft, but not much beyond that.
His Spock became an archetype. In a generation, kids will be looking up the original to explain the root of the word.
So much of it was about friendship. That’s what made it so watchable, time after time.
Thank you James. That was beautiful, and worthy.
The first episode of Star Trek I ever saw was “Is There No Truth in Beauty?” which was darn fascinating (couldn’t help myself- why would I try?) scene in which the nature of beauty was discussed on a space ship and the cold, logical Vulcan seemed to have the best grasp of it in its moral dimension, being willing to risk his sanity to save the lives of his shipmates. Excellent writing- for TV in that era – and Nimoy’s acting had me hooked. For about 40 years, now. Thanks for this encomium, James.
Thank you for this.
I loved him in Fringe.
And lest we forget In Search of …
I learned of Nimoy’s death by seeing this post. It was a nice way to get the news. Thank you, James Lileks.
Thanks to everyone who read and appreciated. And thanks to Edward Smith for reminding me of that Fringe arc; when we met his character it was a wonderful blast of geek convergence. (And later, when we saw his character’s archives, there was a copy of “Baby and Child Care” on the shelf, which was a nice sly touch.)
You know you’re getting old when almost all of the things you loved in your youth are gone.
Farewell, Mr. Spock.
Thanks James. I’m old enough that I saw Star Trek a few times in prime time, but much because it was past my bed time.
But in reruns, I watched it again and again. My brother and I competed to see who could identify the episode most quickly (after a couple of minutes or a few seconds.) When my mom would try to call us away from the set we always tried to convince her this the was the one episode we hadn’t seen. Or hadn’t seen all the way through. I don’t think she was convinced.
Love watching Spock play off of McCoy. Logic vs. emotion with Kirk caught in the middle.
My favorite non-Trek role for Nimoy was the Doctor Good Vibes character in the “Body Snatchers” remake.
One of my prized possessions fell off the wall last weekend.
I should have suspected.
I’ve never been really affected by the death of a celebrity before, but between Mr. Nimoy’s passing, and the
assassinationsuicide(FSB edited) of Boris Nemtsov yesterday, I’m in a pretty crappy mood today. Let’s get to March.I was born in 1969, so missed the show’s first run. I discovered it at about the age of 6 in re-runs. My father took my to my first Trek convention in the late ’70s. My parents have a photo of me somewhere of me in the Smithsonian, at about the age of 8, wearing command gold, next to the Mercury capsule in the main entrance.
The age of my birth didn’t afford me the opportunity to explore “strange new worlds”, so I did what history afforded me; move to wild and wooly Eastern Europe after the Downfall. But I will never be of this place, and no matter how well I learn the language, or the family or connections I develop, I will always be considered ‘the other’. That’s how most of the world, in comparison to America, rolls. So yeah, I grok Spock. A lot.
I guess Nimoy considered himself typecast by the role; most actors should be so lucky. I watched him in other shows growing up, like Mission Impossible and In Search Of, and yeah, I although thought Spock for a millisecond, but always, in the end, knew him as someone I would enjoy spending time with, and as a friend, in that weird way that media can give you a sense of familiarity with someone you never, or in the case of myself, only met once.
I’ve been semi-laid up since January with some minor surgery, and I’ve been re-watching Fringe for the first time it aired. Nimoy played William Bell, a anti-hero (in the end, villain), and watching him chew scenery as a black hat (and show up with an office in the World Trade Center in a parallel Earth in one of the most ??!!! moments I can remember on TV in the last 10 years) in his late 70s, I guess he was having fun.
I know I did.
Great, James. Thanks (tearfully).
Jeez, Tommy! It’s a metaphor, not merely a fireball. As to resurrection, it’s called willful suspension of disbelief. Some are very protective of this particular cultural explosion. What are your bonafides on Vulcan mythology and supernatural power?