Star Trek Lower Decks: Bridging the NuTrek Gap
Written by Syd Cooper
I am a NuTrek skeptic (“NuTrek” being Star Trek media released since 2009). I was raised on The Next Generation, Voyager, and Deep Space 9; I cringed when we went back in time with Enterprise and felt we lost the plot when JJ Abrams took a stab at reimagining The Original Series era. I struggled to watch Discovery, and when Lower Decks appeared, my expectations were low. I might have passed on it completely, if not for the urging of my relatively Trek-naive spouse. Now that I’ve seen the whole first season and am eagerly following along with the second, I’d like to spread the good news and be your NuTrek ambassador: Lower Decks is an unexpected gem, and it might just give you a new perspective on the state of the Star Trek franchise.
For some of us, Star Trek is something more than a collection of plotlines, characters, and sci-fi tech. A Trekkie (or Trekker – I’m not fussed on terms in this case) resonates deeply with Star Trek, many of us describing it as feeling like home. In my head Star Trek evokes comfort, familiarity, and inspiration. We all have a favorite Trek where this feels most potent, and while we may differ on our rank lists, our bond with this universe shares a similar quality. In this way you could say we’re united.
United, that is, until someone brings up NuTrek with its lens flares, fast-paced action, and edgy use of the f-word. Some would say (and I would be one of them) that Enterprise was the tipping point where Star Trek took a turn that shook the community; others might point to my own “home” Trek, DS9, as that moment. Whether it was the notion of prequels in a futuristic world or the dawn of dark, morally gray Trek that got you down, many of us classic Star Trek fans felt alienated by the twisting evolution of our beloved universe.
Enter Lower Decks. I’m not usually one for animated adaptations of beloved live-action franchises, and I imagined all the ways an animated, satirized Star Trek could go horribly wrong. My spouse was into it, though, and I was happy to get them into any series I could find. For my spouse it was more accessible than the dense darkness of DS9 and required less underlying acceptance of sci-fi ridiculousness than TNG. The tropes Star Trek falls into (hello, forehead of the week) were not strewn about unintentionally, but rather flagged, celebrated, and chuckled at. The humor turned out to be tasteful overall, silly at times but often weaving in delicious Easter eggs of inside jokes for those of us who have spent a few too many hours of their life cataloguing fictional future-history. I started to enjoy the characters independently, finding them endearing and infused with their own potential.
I can’t say that Discovery or Into Darkness will make my list of comfort-watch binge media (TNG, in contrast, is eminently rewatchable for this purpose), but Lower Decks has helped me appreciate the place NuTrek has in the greater tapestry of the Star Trek universe. I would much rather have some Trek than none, after all. Who am I to disparage the advent of NuTrekkies in these most desperate of times? Lower Decks gives me hope for the future of Star Trek in a world where we all could use Gene Roddenberry’s message – that humanity has the potential to adapt and grow into a more accepting, curious, and free society. That message is worth a lot right now, no matter which series feels like home to you.