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September 25,
1992 Features DEEP COVER INFILTRATING DEEP SPACE NINE, THE LATEST STAR TREK SHOW, FOR SOME CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE ALIEN KIND
I was too short to be a Klingon (Klingons start at 6 feet) and too tall
to be a Ferengi (Ferengis don't grow over 5'6"). But eventually the
producers found an unnamed alien species whose height was juuust right-and
I ended up making my Star Trek debut looking like a 5'9" asparagus spear.
Not that I'm complaining. I'd have let them turn me into a fuzzy little
Tribble for the chance to appear as an extra on Deep Space Nine, the new
Star Trek TV spin-off now in production on three of Paramount Studio's
Hollywood soundstages. Starring Avery Brooks (Spenser: For Hire) and Rene
Auberjonois (Benson) as Starfleet's newest officers, the syndicated series
isn't slated to begin until January, but already fans are awaiting the
arrival of this grittier, sexier Trek as if it were the second coming of
Surak (see episode No. 77 of the original series). So when Deep Space
offered to send me where no reporter had gone before for a
behind-the-scenes view of the show's two-hour premiere episode, I beamed
right over. It was my ticket to Trekkie nirvana.
Deep Space Nine, for the benefit of the Trek-impaired, is the latest
addition to the ever-expanding Star Trek entertainment empire. Since the
original series first appeared on NBC 26 years ago, it has spawned a vast
Trekking industry, including the hit sequel, Star Trek: The Next
Generation, which this week enters its sixth season as the single most
popular syndicated drama on the air, with 17 million viewers every week.
There have been six feature films (grossing a total of more than $400
million), hundreds of books (including 41 consecutive best-selling Trek
novels), a Saturday-morning cartoon series (in reruns on the new Sci-Fi
Channel this fall), posters, lunch boxes, action figures, dozens of annual
Trek conventions, and a Smithsonian retrospective this summer. Judging
from the sneak peek I got while roaming the sets last month, Deep Space
Nine seems destined to become yet another Trek sensation.
The show takes place at the same time as Next Generation, around a.d.
2360, but the setting has moved to a seedy space station, Deep Space Nine,
which serves as an orbiting port of call for a stripped mining planet
named Bajor. Built and abandoned by those interstellar bad guys the
Cardassians, the place * is a shambles when a new crew of Federation
officers beams aboard to take over. It does have a few interesting
amenities, however-including a Ferengi- run casino and a holographic
brothel. It's also located near a newly discovered cosmic "wormhole," a
tear in space that provides a shortcut to the uncharted far side of the
galaxy. Deep Space's main mission: to boldly explore that wormhole,
seeking out new life and new civilizations.
"In Deep Space, we set out to do all the things we couldn't in Next
Generation," says Rick Berman, an executive producer of both series. "We
wanted the space station to be the antithesis of the Enterprise. We wanted
it to be strange and uncomfortable and confusing. We wanted it to seem
alien, with a small a."
They got what they wanted: The sets of Deep Space Nine look like the
Batcave as designed by Dr. Caligari. The bridge-or "Operations Control
Center," as it's called-is a huge structure filled with cantilevered
catwalks and bizarre control panels even Spock might have trouble
understanding. Things are only a bit more user-friendly at another of the
show's busiest sets, a bar run by a Ferengi named Quark, where the Deep
Space denizens meet to sip Romulan brandy, spin warp-powered roulette
wheels, and pop upstairs for close encounters with the holographic
hookers.
Quark's bar, as it happens, is also where I make my Trek debut-along
with a few dozen other alien extras of various sizes, species, and
genders. We are filming a homage to the famous barroom scene in the first
Star Wars movie, a panoramic shot showing visitors from many worlds
drinking strange brews, playing weird musical instruments, gambling,
flirting, fighting, and in general partying down. As I survey my more
elaborate competition, I feel a tinge of alien envy. One fellow bellying
up to the bar might be the Grinch's grandfather. Another at the roulette
wheel looks like Jabba the Cow Pile. As for me, the dork from Ork, my job
during the scene couldn't be simpler: An assistant director plants me in
the background next to a scantily clad reptile woman and tells me to nod
my head a lot and pretend to make toasts. "Whadya expect?" my neighbor the
lizard lady asks me between takes, adjusting the bit of costume she almost
has on. "That we'd do scenes from The Glass Menagerie?" About 20 takes and
three hours later, we break for lunch.
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