March 12, 1999 | Perhaps you thought Barbara Adams, that prospective juror who showed up for a Whitewater trial in full Starfleet Commander regalia, seemed a little peculiar. If so, then Trekkies, Roger Nygard’s slight but likable documentary about Star Trek fanatics, will confirm that first impression.
Like thousands of like-minded aficionados, Adams is a true believer who feels compelled to dress the part and walk the walk, whether she’s attending yet another Star Trek convention or simply making her way through the “real” world. Pressed on her much-publicized trial appearance, she matter-of-factly explains: “I wore my uniform just as any member of the military would wear theirs.” And when she’s out of uniform, she still insists on being addressed as “Commander” by co-workers and customers at a print shop in Little Rock, Ark.
Adams’ eccentricities are a source of considerable amusement for friends and strangers alike. But when you see her in the context that Nygard so vividly provides in Trekkies, she seems — well, “normal” might be overstating the case. But she’s definitely restrained, comparatively speaking.
After all, Adams has nothing on Dr. Denis Bourguignon, the Orlando, Fla. dentist who has outfitted his office as a Star Trek shrine. (At “Starbase Dental,” Bourguignon, his wife and their staff wear Starfleet uniforms as they work on their patients.) And even when she waxes most enthusiastic about Star Trek philosophy — “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations,” and that sort of thing — Adams never indicates that she would seriously consider surgical enhancement. David Greenstein of Woodland Hills, Calif., readily admits that, if he just had enough money, he would have his ears enlarged to Vulcan size.
It should be noted that even Greenstein’s wife — who, like her husband, is interviewed while wearing a Starfleet uniform — thinks his wishdream is a bit much. On the other hand, it should also be noted that she sees nothing excessive about dressing her pet poodle in Starfleet attire.
Trekkies is a tricky piece of work. On one hand, Nygard obviously thinks the Star Trek fans are comical in their fanaticism. Yet Nygard’s amusement never gives way to mean-spirited hectoring, and the documentarian is fair enough to reveal that the fans — well, OK, many of the fans — are in on the joke as they laugh at themselves.
During one especially funny sequence, interviewees struggle to maintain straight faces as they none-too-seriously debate whether “Trekkie” or “Trekker” is the preferred nomenclature. (Kate Mulgrew, star of Star Trek: Voyager, makes a strong case for the “Trekker” label: “To trek means to go some place.”) At another point, a convention organizer recalls auctioning a glass of water that had been sampled by John De Lancie (a.k.a. Q of Star Trek: The Next Generation.) Although De Lancie was conspicuously ill when he did the sampling, the winning bidder immediately guzzled the remaining water. “And after he drank it,” the bemused auctioneer notes, “he yelled out: `I’ve got the Q virus! I’ve got the Q virus!’”
Trekkies is surprisingly benign, even affectionate, as it gives us an upclose-and-personal look at Star Trek conventions and conventioneers, and examines how the hard-core devotees keep the faith while maneuvering through a universe of non-believers and jeering skeptics. To be sure, you might not want some of these people as next-door neighbors, or even as temporary traveling companions on long-distance airline flights. For example: Gabriel Koerner, a 14-year-old fanatic who often sounds like he’s channeling Dan Aykroyd, has all the appeal of fingernails on a blackboard.
But there is something positively wholesome about the cross-generational camaraderie that Star Trek inspires in true believers. As a precocious youngster says at an intimate gathering of the faithful, “This is the only place I know of where you can goof off, and grown-ups goof off the same way.”
William Shatner makes only a fleeting appearance – and, no, he doesn’t yell, “Get a life!” – while both Patrick Stewart (Next Generation) and Avery Brooks (Deep Space Nine) are conspicuous by their absence. But other cast members from all four Star Trek TV series periodically pop up to comment on the long-living and still-prospering phenomenon. DeForest Kelley recalls the adulation he and his co-stars received at their first convention appearance (“We were like a bunch of over-age Beatles!”) Brent Spiner savors his status as a sex symbol among female fans known as “Spiner Femmes.” James Doohan nearly sobs as he remembers his efforts to sustain a suicidal fan.
But don’t expect any of Star Trek alumni to provide a logical explanation for three decades of fanaticism. “Even now,” admits Leonard Nimoy, “I still have an ongoing process of trying to understand all of this.”
