Star Trek: "The Tholian Web"

The Tholian Web is one of those classic episodes of TOS that transcend television. The ghostly image of a Kirk (William Shatner) caught between dimensions, waiting breathlessly (at the end literally so) for the transporter to beam him back to the ship, while the Tholian ship weaves a “Web” around the Enterprise, stranded in space as it is due to the fear of “disrupting” the dimensional shift, is one that sticks with the viewer like a good, heady shot of Saurian brandy. Oh, with such bold and breathtaking adventure awaiting, what’s an old spacer to do?

And then we have Chekhov (Walter Koenig), losing his Russkie shit because—why? He’s infected with space psychosis? Whatever it is, he gets up from the navigational seat on the deck and causes holy hell to break out. And while all that is occurring—Kirk caught like a ghost between dimensional shifts, giving the Shat’s famous ham-acting agonized expression of “Help me, Spock! I’m (pregnant pause) caught in HELL.” The indelible image of Ghost Kirk caught in the dimensional gateway is just as infused with TOS badassery as the “Web” itself, which is slowly and inexorably drawn about everyone’s favorite Galaxy-class starship while Spock (leonard Nimoy), who seems to momentarily have grown a pair of cojones that actually defies logic, fires on the hostile but undeniably colorful Tholian butt-munchers and ends up drawing the ire of Bones (Deforest Kelley).

On the whole, that’s not hard to do, we take it. As was demonstrably proven after 72 episodes and six feature films. McCoy sputters on about Spock and his dad-blamed but highly, in this case, illogical act of firing on weird, semi-omnipotent alien overlords what got absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever, and Spock most cleverly and Vulcan-like arches one fantastically groomed makeup-department eyebrow and says, “Damn it, Bones, I’m a Vulcan, not a most-decidedly ham-like outer-space captain in a classic show wherein a crew of undeniably wacky icons roam the outer fringes of the galaxy sacrificing guys in red pullover tops to whatever rubber monster got hatched out of the scriptwriter’s fractured psychological delirium and need to lasso ratings this week.” Or maybe something a little less wordy, but, really, friends, neighbors, and Fat Comic Book Guys, you rather get the point, I take it.

I could give you more, but that would be giving out the ending, and you really need to see the rest of this one, folks—it’s pure classic Trek from the happy shifting dimensional portal of TV’s vast and inexplicably often good yesteryear. I don’t think I’m being a butt-headed, crinkle-forehead Klingon bat’leth-chugger if I tell you, surprise, surprise, James Tiberius most certainly does not meet his Kobayashi Maru here, but proceeds onward, through space, time, and a need to maintain their viewership, through the rest of the timeless third season. Evergreen, it is. (Even in the darkness of space, where one supposes not a lot of color distinction can be made out among the stars “in the celluloid sky.”)

On a final note (because we have word-count minimums here): one of the most interesting aspects of this particular episode is the VHS Kirk leaves behind (which is actually small, pink, plastic, and not a VHS at all—perhaps some leftover Betamax oddity that should be in an audiovisual museum in Ottawa alongside whatever first broadcast that Videodrome signal), which is him giving his “after death” and “I’m reaching out in foresight from my hypothetical place beyond the veil” final instructions. As Captain.

Bones, Spock.

Since you are playing this tape, we will assume that I am dead, that the tactical situation is critical, and both of you are locked in mortal combat. It means, Spock, that you have control of the ship and are probably making the most difficult decisions of your career. I can offer only one small piece of advice, for whatever it’s worth: use every scrap of knowledge and logic you have to save the ship but temper your judgment with intuitive insight. I believe you have those qualities, but if you can’t find them in yourself, seek out McCoy. Ask his advice. And if you find it sound, take it.

All of which Spock would take with an expression of frozen, non-plussed rigidity. And an arched eyebrow.

“Most logical,” he would say.

And then get right down to the business at hand. Bones (not hand bones) notwithstanding.

And, certainly, not ham bones, much to the Shat’s vast, hyper-dimensional regret.

Excelsior!

"Star Trek" Remastered Trailer — 309: "The Tholian Web"

Author's website

Author's YouTube

My book: Cult Films and Midnight Movies: From High Art to Low Trash Volume 1:

Ebook

Print book

My book: Silent Scream! Nosferatu, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Metropolis, and Nosferatu--Four Novels.

Ebook (Itch.io)

Print book