The initial moments of "Space Adventure Hour" might leave you feeling a twinge of vertigo; such a reaction is entirely justifiable. Indeed, any dizzying sensation throughout the episode would be equally understandable. However, let's delve into the opening scene, which introduces us to an image resembling Christine Chapel at the helm of a starship. Yet, it's not quite Christine, at least not in the conventional sense, though it is indeed Jess Bush portraying her. Moreover, this vessel is unlike any starship we've grown accustomed to witnessing in "Strange New Worlds" or any iteration of "Star Trek" since the original series' conclusion. It bears a striking resemblance to a TV set, filled with imagery and gadgets that evoke a vision of the future deeply rooted in the mid-1960s — the very kind you'd expect to see in the original "Star Trek."
Something else reminiscent of the '60s "Star Trek": James T. Kirk in the captain's chair, here embodied by Paul Wesley in "Strange New Worlds." Except he's not quite playing Kirk; rather, he's delivering his lines with the hesitant cadence and emphatic enunciation of the actor who first brought the role to life, William Shatner. Adding to the surreal atmosphere, we then witness Melissa Navia adorned with a wig vastly different from Erica Ortega's signature haircut, wearing a jumpsuit unlike any attire we've ever seen on Erica. Whoever these characters may be, they're grappling with a grave crisis involving menacing, four-eyed creatures known as Egonians, an ailment called "melancholia," the peril of nuclear lasers, and the theft of brain cells.
The plot truly accelerates as the credits for the show we're watching begin to roll. These credits, too, seem oddly familiar, despite the novel title: "The Last Frontier," created by T.K. Bellows.
From there, we're momentarily back on terrain we recognize. Aboard the Enterprise, things are relatively serene as it studies a neutron star. This grants La'an some time to spearhead her own project, testing a device designed to provide entertainment and stress relief for starships soon capable of remaining distant from the Federation for years due to advancements in faster-than-light travel. It's a chamber where crew members can engage in ultra-realistic games and narrative scenarios facilitated by holograms. One might even call it a "holodeck." (But hold on — holodecks don't exist at this juncture in Federation history, do they? Keep watching.) The Federation is enthusiastic about this emerging technology, but it must undergo rigorous testing to ensure its efficacy. That responsibility falls to La'an.
Yet first: dancing. When La'an swings by Spock's quarters, she discovers that he's maintained the dance training she initiated, despite his relationship with Christine not progressing as he'd hoped. He's become quite proficient, even drawing La'an into a tango and insisting she maintain eye contact, as she once instructed him, "The eyes are the anchor of the tango." They move in harmony, which feels like (and indeed turns out to be) a subtle hint of what's to come. Spock is aware of La'an's holodeck project and offers to assist if he can. Even though he's not particularly well-versed in human entertainment, he does know that violence and "romantic narratives" are popular, noting the latter just as they seem on the brink of kissing.
La'an is far from oblivious to the unfolding events, yet she cannot disregard the surge of inspiration they ignite within her. She envisions collaborating with Scotty to devise a scenario rooted in the Amelia Moon mystery novels she holds dear, narratives featuring a fearless detective of the 1960s. Scotty, though aware of the potential strain on the ship's resources, embraces the idea. However, he cautions of "a minor complication": the holodeck, constrained to realistic human portrayals, relies solely on intricate data culled from transporter patterns. Consequently, La'an will engage with characters who bear an uncanny resemblance to her Enterprise comrades. This rational explanation serves as a clever pretext for "Space Adventure Hour," allowing the Strange New Worlds cast to don quirky '60s attire and indulge in roles vastly different from their established personas, amidst much hilarity.
Prior to diving into the spare holodeck, La'an dons a delightful '60s ensemble of her choosing and discovers Spock already lounging within. As the program commences, La'an is instantly captivated. "I can almost inhale the ocean breeze and the tang of cigarettes!" she remarks to Spock before dismissing him to his tasks. Shortly thereafter, she is confronted by Uhura—or rather, Jodie Gloss, a powerful Hollywood agent tasking her with unraveling the murder of studio head Tony Hart, found strangled in his grand mansion. Among the studio's projects was The Last Frontier, and its stars and creators might harbor the guilt.
Could it be Gloss herself? The show's creator, T.K. Bellows (Anson Mount)? Actress-turned-producer Sunny Lupino (Rebecca Romijn)? Or perhaps one of the stars, such as Adelaide Shaw (Bush), Maxwell Saint (Wesley), or Lee Woods (Navia)? Adelaide's artist beau (Babs Olusanmokun) could also be a suspect. Motives abound, for Hart was poised to axe the show.
What transpires thereafter? Much, indeed, but the specifics are ultimately less crucial. Sunny meets an untimely end from poisoning, having just deflected accusations of murdering Tony, her ex-husband and producing partner. Their romantic ties may have severed, but their professional bond remained strong; she even invested her own funds into the show, albeit not sourced from illicit means. Despite Amelia's composure, this second homicide rattles La'an, who deduces that the holodeck, akin to a battle simulator, is altering its tactics to outwit her. Assistance is required, and enters "Detective Spock." The Last Frontier crew wonders: who is this enigma? A communist? Or, heaven forbid, a "cinema snob"?
They might need to delve into the mystery much sooner than anticipated. The ongoing holodeck experiment is resulting in a significant energy depletion, ripple effects of which are being felt throughout the spaceship. Una makes it abundantly clear that the responsibility of rectifying this issue rests squarely on Scotty's shoulders. He resorts to his usual tactic of cheerful reassurance, dismissing any problems as mere "fleeting issues." However, the look exchanged between Scotty and Una as she exits the room hints that these "fleeting issues" might be more substantial than he lets on. When the situation escalates later, he will attempt to defuse the tension by discreetly enlisting Uhura's help. He prefers to resolve matters without sparking panic, even if he himself is teetering on the edge.
Meanwhile, back in the simulation titled "California," "Amelia" and "Detective Spock" shift their focus to Maxwell Saint. Indeed, he was indulging in an extramarital affair with Hart's secretary, but they brush it off as a common occurrence in close-knit work environments. Amelia and Spock, no strangers to such dynamics themselves, understand this all too well. However, this line of inquiry appears to be a cul-de-sac. Their conversation with Adelaide, who bemoans that people are more intrigued by her love life than her professional achievements, similarly hits a dead end. Other leads, such as Lee, who has been busy crafting a western screenplay, and her boyfriend, also come to naught.
This leaves Bellows, who dismissively brushes aside any suspicions. He was already yearning to venture into filmmaking anyway. "I'm a writer," he informs the detectives. "We're never fully content with anything." However, La'an ponders if there's more to the story just as a falling chandelier narrowly misses her. She manages to dodge it, but a gash on her face hints at a worrying possibility: they might sustain injuries inside the holodeck, despite it being theoretically impossible. Worse still, they are unable to deactivate it.
Perched atop a staircase, La'an and Spock observe the remaining suspects tearing into each other. Noticing Lee's absence, they set off to find her, only to discover Jodie hovering over her lifeless body. Jodie insists on her innocence, despite her vehement disagreement with Hart's decision to cancel "The Last Frontier." She explains, "T.K. wanted to offer audiences a relatable reflection of their own world through the prism of fantasy. Social commentary cloaked in rubber masks and buried metaphors. Science fiction, you see, as a space for everyone to feel seen, to belong, to have something to believe in again, regardless of their identity or origin."
Once again, a wave of vertigo washes over me as Celia Rose Gooding passionately champions a socially aware 1960s science-fiction series, a utopian dreamscape that delves into the profound impact of representation. In this role, Gooding embodies Uhura, a character first brought to life by Nichelle Nichols. Nichols' portrayal as a Black woman in a position of authority aboard Star Trek left an indelible mark on countless fans. (Nichols frequently recounted how Martin Luther King Jr. persuaded her to stay on the show when she contemplated leaving after its inaugural season.) This episode, otherwise lighthearted, houses a beautifully penned and performed defense of science fiction in general, and Star Trek in particular.
Jodie's speech resonates deeply with La’an, especially her poignant inquiry, "Don't you believe that a person can cherish a piece of art, music, or a story so profoundly that it mends their soul, revealing facets of themselves they never knew existed?" For La’an, those novels are the Amelia Moon mysteries, which she discovered during a particularly dark period in her life. Yet, Amelia's defining trait—solving every case—pulls her back to the present murders.
Time is of the essence. The ship's dwindling power places the Enterprise in grave peril. Despite Scotty's diligent attempts to keep the situation under wraps, he now faces accountability from Pike. He must reach La’an, necessitating a clandestine message within the simulation. Ingeniously, he finds an opportunity during an outtake from Last Frontier that La’an is reviewing, urging her to unravel the mystery and terminate the program.
This endeavor will necessitate severing the complex heart of the mystery, akin to slicing through the Gordian Knot. T.K. Bellows emerges as a suspect, stumbling in drunk after La’an learns that Last Frontier was not canceled but rather, Bellows had been terminated. Yet, despite his actions, including shooting Spock, Bellows is not the culprit. As La’an fears for Spock's life, she uncovers a startling revelation: it has been Spock all along, albeit not the genuine Spock. The authentic Spock was never on the holodeck; instead, La’an's foremost adversary was chosen by the holodeck, knowing she would never suspect him.
With that decision, she concludes the program and proposes to the Federation that they shelve the concept, perhaps preserving it for future generations. Following Una's reassuring words to Scotty, La'an, at Spock's request, visits the authentic version of him to resume their earlier lesson. They do just that, with La'an seductively recounting her holodeck adventures. The tension between them escalates, culminating in an inevitable kiss.
How seriously should we regard this emerging relationship? It remains ambiguous. The chemistry between La'an and Spock is undeniably potent, yet it's challenging not to perceive it as a rebound for both. Spock's evident preoccupation with Christine lingers, which would be apparent even without the recent proximity to the events of "Wedding Bell Blues." Similarly, it's transparent that Kirk still occupies a significant space in La'an's thoughts. Her attraction to Spock lacks the profound, soul-stirring connection she shared with the alternate universe's Kirk. It's revealing that Kirk is the sole non-Enterprise crew member to feature in her Amelia Moon fantasies. He persists in her mind, or rather, the other Kirk does. It's a tangled web of affections.
