Star Trek

It begins with a wall of feedback, a cascade of electronic blips and distorted radio chatter, before diving headfirst into pitiless, soundless, space battle. Our new Kirk's nativity is marked by laser bombardments and operatic sacrifice. Eric Bana's intruder is vandalising the timeline, spinning life trajectories out of control. This is JJ Abrams Star Trek. In adapting Gene Roddenberry's deathless TV serial, Abrams has neatly sidestepped specific era expectation by staging the adventures in a detour universe that makes brawlers of Spock and Kirk. We are treated to the explicitly youthful crew's maiden voyage, tussling with a vengeful Khan alike, and his comic coloured singularity bomb. Mainstay characters are each afforded shine segments, and no swash is left unbuckled.