Impact: The Public and The Press

Playing Mr. Spock, standing in his shoes, seeing things from his point of view, living his lifestyle, thinking in his terms, put me into an altered state of consciousness. This condition gave me fresh and exciting insights about myself and the people around me. Many people found this very exciting while some found it threatening. There is a great deal of paranoia in my business. Those people who feel that they must be on the defensive and protect themselves at all times, particularly those with whom I would be working or with whom I had business relationships, projected into Mr. Spock's silence and stoicism a threat to themselves. They felt that I must have been passing judgment on them or scheming against them and was hiding the truth from them in order to disarm them and make them more vulnerable. This often brought about hostile attitudes on their part.

The exact opposite reaction was true in most cases. There is a far-reaching, almost mystical relationship on a nonverbal level between myself, the Spock character and millions of people who relate in a way that is difficult to describe in the language available to us. How else can I explain the fact that on my arrival in Pennsylvania for a college appearance, I stepped into the car which was to take me to the campus and found sitting on the dashboard a beautiful oak leaf with autumn color? I reached out to pick it up and was told by the driver that it had been sent as a greeting by a group of students who were awaiting me at the college, and who thought that I might enjoy having it to experience during the ride. This gentle generous gesture is an example of only one of the endless variety of responses to Star Trek, Mr. Spock, and me.

Shortly after the show went on the air, a network of underground communication quickly developed—fan to fan, club to club—which carried current, often up-to-the-minute information about the show and the actors involved. Often their information about our activities has been sophisticated enough to make the CIA look like amateurs.

On my personal appearance trips out of Los Angeles, the details and paperwork are kept to the barest bare minimums. My secretary will hand me my plane ticket with a brief note about the event I'm going to. In most cases I am at the mercy of the individual who will meet me at the other end of the flight. I usually do not know where I will stay or appear except in special situations or cities in which I have requested my favorite hotel.

On one trip to Salt Lake City, I was met at the airport and driven to a local motel. I had been preregistered and was taken directly to my room. As I turned the key in the door, the phone in the room was ringing. I walked in and answered. A young female voice said, "Is this Mr. Nimoy?" I said, "Yes, it is." "Mr. Nimoy, I'm one of your biggest fens. I live in Denver and I just wanted to say hello and tell you how much I enjoy you on Star Trek." I was startled, and I asked, "How did you find me?" She said, "I heard you were going to be in Salt Lake City, and I called all the hotels and motels until I got the right one."

I thanked her for calling, and explained that I had to get off the phone since I was due to make an appearance in a few minutes. I hung up, changed clothes quickly, and within five minutes was headed for the door. The phone rang again. I went back, picked it up, and heard: "Mr. Nimoy, my name is Patricia. I'm in Chicago, and I just wanted to say hello." I asked: "How did you find me?" The answer was very simple, "Mary in Denver called me. ..."

During a break at a personal appearance in New York I was introduced to a young man about 13 or 14 years old. He asked me for an autograph which I gave him. Then he said, "Could I ask you a question?" "Sure. ..." "How did you beam up into the ship?" I explained briefly that this was an optical effect done through a film dissolve. "Can you really knock somebody out by pinching their neck?" "Only on Star Trek," I answered. "What were your ears made of?" "Foam rubber tips stuck on top of my ears with glue." "Did they hurt?" "Sometimes." He scuffled for a moment, then he said, "I don't want to be a hog, but could I have another autograph for my friend?" "Sure," I said, and signed it for him. Then he asked. "Do you have any children?" I answered, "Yes, I have two. They're both older than you. They're in college." He was silent for a moment and then, "I sure wish I had a father like you."

The great range of reaction to the Spock character extends from the oversimplified: "Spock? He's the one with no feelings," to this from a sociology major: ". . . as I see it now, the analysis of Spock will be the central theme of my thesis ... I find Spock the amalgam of incredible traits. He is an especially contemporary figure as he represents the classic alienated person. Alienation is something we all experience today."

In making the show, the question was: How much depth can we develop in the stories and the characters, and how consistent can we be?

I've heard that when Picasso was asked to explain the meaning of one of his paintings, he recited the alphabet.

Art, if it is successful, needs no explanation. Star Trek and Spock, if they are works of art, can be discussed. But finally the response comes in individual terms. Each viewer sees what is there for him, depending on his frame of reference.

In television, for the sake of mass public penetration, there is a tendency to reduce ideas to their lowest common denominator. A catch phrase or a pithy sentence "... a deputy DA has second thoughts about his key witness to a murder." Or "... a comedy-drama involving a pregnant student and a physician accused of malpractice."

I was present when a writer presented an idea for a TV show to a major studio executive. The writer was eloquent and enthusiastic. He told his story in rich language, filled with historical and social references. The executive's response was, "That sounds great. But give it to me in a line that I can use in the TV Guide."

"Sure I know who Spock is. He's the one with the pointed ears."

Shortly before the debut in September, 1966, I sat with a group of TV editors from various major cities. The meeting took place in Los Angeles, where the press had gathered to meet the stars of new series. They were given complete press kits, and would eventually write in their local papers to inform viewers about the shows and personalities in the new TV season.

I tried hard, very hard, to impress on them the fact that we were doing a very meaningful series. That Spock rep­resented something special. That we were not doing "Lost in Space."

"Tell us about your character." "Well, he comes from a planet called Vulcan. His father is a Vulcan native. His mother was an Earth woman. He's a scientist, extremely logical. Vulcans have learned to control their emotions."

"What does he do?"

"He's the Science Officer on the ship."

"You say he comes from another planet?"

"Yes, Vulcan."

"Is there anything special about him?"

"Well, I already mentioned. ..."

"No, I mean, does he look like us?"

"Well, ... ah ..." The trap was set, and I was about to step into it. I might have made it a lot easier on myself if I had simply jumped in ears first. But somehow I felt that would cheapen the character and the show. How could I bear to reduce my character to a "bottom line" definition?

Ironically, I probably would have gotten more press exposure by simply saying, "I play a man with pointed ears." My fear was that they would never have heard the rest of my story. Now, it was inevitable. They had to know, and I told them.

I took great pains to de-emphasize the physical characteristics. I assured them that this was no cheap gimmick. That our stories would deal with science-fiction concepts at the highest level. I was almost pleading, "Please, don't dismiss us as a far-out fantasy with weird looking creatures." I thought I had made some points.

But the next day, as part of their research, the press group was ushered onto the Star Trek stage at Paramount to watch us shoot a scene.

The scene took place in the ship's sick bay. I was lying on an examination table, flat on my back with green blood oozing from my forehead. Dr. McCoy stood anxiously over me trying to recall his training in Vulcan anatomy. The door flew open and in rushed Captain Kirk. "Spock! What happened?!"

Hoping to be inaudible to the visiting press, I answered, "the creature attacked me, Captain."

On a Sunday afternoon in Toledo, Ohio, I had just finished a personal appearance and was being escorted to my car. There were several fans following with the usual requests for autographs and one last picture with an instamatic which might or might not work. Finally the group was satisfied and we moved on, but I was aware that I was followed by one particular girl. I turned and said hello and with difficulty she said that she had a couple of questions to ask. I brought her up alongside of me and told her that I had to keep moving because I had to get to the airport but that I would be happy to listen to what she had to say.

She mentioned the fact that she had seen me in the film of Deathwatch, which was unusual. I asked her where, and she told me that it had been screened at her drama class in college. This was a pleasant enough exchange, especially since after so much work went into the picture, so few people got to see it. There was obviously more on her mind and the story came out bit by bit as we walked. She told me that she had a friend who was a college professor, he had a disease that affected his vision in one eye. The sight in the eye was almost gone. Now the doctors told him that there seemed to be a sympathetic effect taking place in the other eye and that he would probably lose his vision entirely. She asked me if I had ever considered the possibility of extending my energies for medical purposes through physical contact. I said I hadn't and that I had no idea what she was talking about.

She explained that it might be possible for me to place a hand on the second eye and arrest the progress of the disease. She asked me if I would be willing to try it. I was quite shocked and stopped dead in my tracks. I said, "Dear lady, what I do is no more than a fiction. I am an actor and only an actor. I work in a dramatic show playing a character who seems to have some sort of magical powers. Please understand this is only a fiction. If there was some way that I could help your friend, please believe me, I would. But I tell you finally and flatly I cannot help him in any way." She asked, "Are you sure?" I answered, "Yes, I am absolutely certain that what I have just told you are the facts." She said, "Have you ever tried?" I said, "No, I haven't and I am quite convinced that there would be no point." At that juncture I think she realized that I had said my final word. There was a momentary pause and she came back with, "Please think about it."

This kind of encounter saddens me, but it does give me a very powerful and deep insight into the depth of impact of drama of the Star Trek kind and characters like Mr. Spock. In cases where a great emotional need develops there is often great desire to find a magical solution. Characters like Spock lend themselves to this fantasy.

I am sure that actors who have played characters like Superman and Batman have also been contacted by people in emotional extremes, or who felt that the actors could be of help through their superhuman abilities to ward off evil and counter hostile forces.

In the Spring of 1967, Isaac Asimov, one of the great science fiction writers of our time, wrote an article for the TV Guide about Mr. Spock. The title was "It's Sexy to Be Smart." The article was a very funny, clever piece which suggested that Mr. Spock's attraction to the ladies was due to his superior intelligence. I sent him a note which started a pleasant correspondence.

May 2, 1967

DearMr. Asimov:

I am not sure, perhaps times have changed. When I first came to California to start a film career, the current rage was Marion Brando who had just won the hearts of the American females by playing a stupid, insensitive boor—perhaps you're right, I certainly hope so. At any rate, the Article was marvelous, and I would expect the response would be excellent.

Many thanks,

Sincerely,

Leonard Nimoy

17 May 1967

Dear Mr. Nimoy,

Thank you for the unexpected pleasure of your letter of the 8th.

Actually, I don't really think being unusually intelligent gets more than a small percentage of the ladies, say a few thousand all told. But then, what normal man needs more than a few thousand—especially if all are going to tell.

My fan mail makes it quite clear that what really gets the girls is your (or, rather, Mr. Spock's) imperviousness to feminine charm. There is the fascination of trying to break you down that appeals to the hunter instinct in every one of the dear things.

This is the worst news possible for me, for although I am perhaps in the top percentile as far as intelligence is concerned, I am the most pervious man (with respect to feminine charm) that any woman has ever met. I am so laughably simple a conquest that few bother. They just laugh.

Yours,

Isaac Asimov

18 May 1967

Dear Mr. Nimoy,

Sorry to bother you again so quickly, but this will only take a moment. I showed your letter to my young daughter (the one who thought you were dreamy as described in my TV GUIDE article.) I was instantly assaulted.

It seems that in answering I had neglected to ask for a signed photograph of yourself as Mr. Spock. Please forgive my asking but could you have your office send me out a photograph of Mr. Spock, signed, of course, and with "To Robyn" also included.

And one last thing—seriously. See if you can use your influence to keep the Star Trek people from overemphasizing your imperturbability with respect to women. There should be an occasional hint of hidden fire. Women must be made to feel that their secret fantasy-campaigns to break you down might succeed. The absolute certainty of failure would dishearten them.

And I hope the writers and yourself continue to portray Mr. Spock as possessing a clear, dry and underplayed sense of humor. That is extremely effective.

(Lest you wonder how I can possibly know how women react to you, I can only explain that my article has drawn fan-mail—and from women, without a single exception.)

Yours,

Isaac Asimov

In 1968, believing we should be out of Viet Nam, I started becoming active in political campaigning.

Leonard Nimoy was an attractive addition at political social action gatherings because of the Spock image. Spock was a character whose time had come. He represented a practical, reasoning voice in a period of dissension and chaos. I spoke at gatherings for Eugene McCarthy, who was the leader of the "dove movement." Aside from McCarthy and other political candidates, I also worked for such organizations as Cesar Chavez's United Farm Workers, Martin Luther King's Southern Christian Leadership Conference and the American Civil Liberties Union. At a meeting of the latter, I first met Dr. Benjamin Spock. I have often been mistakenly referred to as "Dr. Spock," probably because of the fame of the well-known pediatrician. He had been at the forefront in the peace struggle and had been arrested and was awaiting trial for interfering with draft board activities. I introduced myself with, "How do you do. My name is Leonard Nimoy and I play a character called Mr. Spock on the TV series Star Trek." He said, "I know. Have you been indicted yet?"

By now the legend of the cancellation of Star Trek after two seasons, and it's reinstatement on NBC's schedule for a third year, is widespread. After announcing the cancellation, NBC reported receiving 114,000 pieces of protest mail. Many of those pieces of mail were petitions with hundreds of signatures.

UNPRECEDENTED VIEWER REACTION IN

SUPPORT OF 'STAR TREK' LEADS TO

ON-AIR ANNOUNCEMENT OF SERIES'

SCHEDULING FOR 1968-69

In response to unprecedented viewer reaction in support of the continuation of the NBC Television Network's "Star Trek" series, plans for continuing the series in the fall were announced on NBC-TV immediately following last Friday night's (March 1) episode of the space adventure series. The announcement will be repeated following next Friday's (March 8) program.

From early December to date, NEC has received 114,667 pieces of mail in support of "Star Trek," and 52,151 in the month of February alone.

Immediately after last Friday night's program, the following announcement was made:

"And now an announcement of interest to all viewers of ‘Star Trek.' We are pleased to tell you that 'Star Trek' will continue to be seen on NBC Television. We know you will be looking forward to seeing the weekly adventure in space on 'Star Trek."'

Earlier last week (Feb. 27), in announcing the NEC Television Network's 1968-69 nighttime schedule, Don Durgin, President, NEC-TV, stated that "Star Trek" would be colorcast on a different day and in a new time period—Mondays, 7:30-8:30 p.m. PST; 6:30-7:30 p.m. CST—in the fall. This season the series is being presented Fridays, 8:30-9:30 p.m. PST; 7:30-8:30 p.m. CST.

March 4, 1968

It is interesting to note that NBC reported that Star Trek would be scheduled on Mondays, 730-8:30 P.M. PST and 6:30-7:30 P.M. CST, in the fall of 1968. Had the network followed through with their intentions, it is very possible that Star Trek would still be running as a weekly series today. Instead, the network succumbed to scheduling pressures from other shows and decided to schedule Star Trek on Friday night at 10.00 P.M. which signaled the beginning of the end of the series.

In my travels, I constantly meet people who proudly report they sent a letter or signed a petition urging continuation of the show. The feeling is "We fought City Hall and we won." I've never discussed the scheduling or eventual cancellation of the show with any of the network officials. However, Sid Sheinberg, who was in charge of TV production at Universal when I was under contract there in 1972 said, "Star Trek followers are fanatic. They'll kill for the show, but there aren't enough of them to make it worthwhile keeping the show on the air."

I must assume that this thinking exists at the network level as well. This, in spite of the fact that the show has been amazingly successful in the syndication market. (Individual stations showing reruns.) Station managers tell me they beat all competition even with the sixth, seventh, eighth reruns of the series. There is a popular notion that actors are paid residuals each time a show is rerun. This is only partly true. We are paid for the first six runs or five reruns. After that, there is no further payment. In the case of Star Trek, those residuals ran out a long time ago.

Every once in a while a male member of a lecture audience will raise a hand, and with a gleam in his eye ask me to "tell about the ladies on Star Trek." There is no doubt about the fact that we had an extraordinarily lovely and talented array of actresses over the course of the series. Recently a more specific question on the subject has been coming from females.

Question: "In view of the recent women's liberation movement, looking back on Star Trek, what is your feeling about the women and the roles which they were given to play?"

Answer: "Looking back on it now, I would have to say that the attitude towards the women in the series was definitely chauvinistic. I can recall only two incidents in which women were actually shown functioning in command roles. One of those was a female captain of a Romulan vessel. It was a direct one-to-one confrontation between her and Mr. Spock. Although Mr. Spock eventually won the day for the Enterprise, I believe the female character was handled with dignity and taste. On the other hand, we played an episode in which a female took over the physical body of Captain Kirk in a sort of war between the sexes. In this case the female was finally proven to be inadequate for the command function because of the fact that she was a woman. That particular episode was one writer's personal statement about the comparative capabilities between males and females."

In general, the nature of the clothing and the attitude of the males towards the females in the show would definitely have to be described as sex-object oriented. All I can say is, in spite of the fact that the show was created, produced, and directed by people of enormous sensitivity and vision about the future, the policy makers were almost exclusively men and contemporary men at that.

Science fiction literature for some time has been richly laced with very lush fantasies about women of the future. In the case of Star Trek I would have to say that the writers and producers own fantasies were in evidence in the handling of female roles.

I hope this hasn't been too great a source of distress for female viewers of the show. In all fairness I should comment on the fact that my own mail and many of the stories about Mr. Spock that have appeared in various "fan-zines" indicate that a great number of female Star Trek viewers have their own fantasies about Mr. Spock as a sex object. The major theme here seems to be that Mr. Spock for some reason, either chemical, medical, physical or whatever, is caught in a situation where his defenses drop and he finds himself in a very amorous mood with a very lovely lady.

The cover of one of these "fan-zines" in particular shows a very well done drawing of Mr. Spock stripped to the waist, his lower portion covered for the most part with a draped toga exposing one bare leg, his hands manacled and a belt from the manacles chaining him to a post. The title boldly reads "Spock Enslaved!" The obvious suggestion is that Spock in this case is a love slave, much in the same way that women have been used for years in erotic or semi-erotic literature. I suppose in this case, turn about is fair play.

At an appearance at Bowling Green University in Ohio, a young lady rose to say, "I'm going to do something for your ego. Are you aware that you are the source of erotic dream material for thousands and thousands of ladies around the world?" I lifted the glass of water that was sitting on the speaker's rostrum and toasted her with, "May all your dreams come true."

The sexual morality of our society tells a story which goes something like this: "Most men would like to make love to most women, most of the time." The one thing that prevents all of this indiscriminate coupling from taking place is the female power to resist. Women are therefore more discriminating, more self-controlled and in general the keepers of the keys to the sexual experience. If it is such a bother to be so attractive to men, I don't quite understand the need for all the dieting, the make-up, the various sprays, the perfumes, the clothing, etc. The name of the game seems to be, "He shall want me, but he shall not have me." If he doesn't want, perhaps a different hair-do, a new dress, a more exotic perfume will do the trick. This can be a very demanding, tiring, expensive and frustrating process. I'm sure it is degrading. Particularly when the female in her moment of triumph is supposed to deliver that final lock-out line which reads, "What kind of girl do you think I am?" or variations thereof.

Down the road comes a stranger. Tall, dark, thoughtful, alien and exotic. Somewhat devilish in appearance. A brilliant mind, the wisdom of a patriarch and oh, so cool. With a raised eyebrow he suggests that he is above game playing and role playing . . . which are hangovers from earth's Victorian age. That he understands and knows about the deepest needs and longings of the earth female. There is no point in trying to dissemble. Spock will not be fooled. Trying to tease, tempt, flirt or be coy would seem inappropriate and ridiculous in the presence of this perception.

SHE: Mr. Spock, may I offer you something to drink? Scotch, bourbon, brandy, a martini?

SPOCK: Madam, my mind is in precisely the condition it should be. I see no reason to alter that condition with stimulants or depressants.

SHE: Would you excuse me, while I slip into something more comfortable?

SPOCK: Since the costume you are now wearing is certainly not functional, and you inform me that it is not comfortable, I fail to comprehend the reason for buying or wearing it.

It just won't work. All the training, all the experience, the preparation and the expense are for naught.

And yet something, somehow must touch this slumbering sexuality. And what if one is successful? The fantasies are endless. There must be stored away here a boundless energy. Pure animal with a brilliant intelligence. Perhaps a touch of childlike naivete kept fresh through rare usage. This could be the journey through the fabled spaces of unknown love and ecstasy. The moments of joy, and torment punctuated with cries of wonder and childlike laughter. Into the abyss of total commitment, relaxation and sheer exhaustion, physical and emotional. Facade after facade of social defense being stripped away until the deepest most secret recesses of the mind have been revealed. And the relief, blessed relief, at being able to drop the burdens of performance and simply exist, free . . . and spent.

It might happen. And this creature might make it happen. He might know that inside me there is a full and rich soul, waiting and hoping. Stored away under layers of idle conversation and empty posturing. A soul locked in the dark for fear of exposure to ridicule. Like a fragile flower encased in steel to be protected against the onslaught of cocktail party thrusts and jabs, clumsy hands and one-track minds.

"Mr. Spock, I offer you the key to my being. If you should care to use it, perhaps you may find there something of value. Something, I hope, special and unique. I will trust your judgment and your capacity for being gentle and land."

Spock and Me:

The Divided Self

NIMOY: Spock, . . . how does it feel to be popular?

SPOCK: I do not have feelings.

NIMOY: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.

SPOCK: I am not offended. I understand your tendency to judge me by your human standards. It would however, facilitate matters if you would refrain from doing so.

NIMOY: I'll try ... Are you aware that you are popular?

SPOCK: I am aware of a certain public interest which exists.

NIMOY: People like you. Do you care about that?

SPOCK: Should I?

NIMOY: Well, I realize that it's not something you would pursue, but being liked is a nice thing.

SPOCK: Popularity can be a corrupting influence. Many of your political leaders have achieved much popularity and left behind much destruction.

NIMOY: Then, would you rather not be popular?

SPOCK: To be concerned one way or the other is a waste of energy. And popularity does put one in strange company.

NIMOY: How do you mean?

SPOCK: In your culture, popularity may be achieved by bizarre beings and in strange ways. One can achieve popularity by appearing nude in your magazines. Certain animals, dogs, mammals, etc., have become popular through weekly exposure in your television dramas. Would it not be better to honor real achievement?

NIMOY: Can't popularity and achievement go together?

SPOCK: Victor Hugo said, "Popularity? Why it is the very crumbs of greatness."

NIMOY: That sounds pompous.

SPOCK: Possible, but after all, Mr. Hugo was only human.

NIMOY: To be more accurate, Spock, Hugo was only a human.

SPOCK: True.

NIMOY: And though there might be some validity to his statement, there are many humans who have expressed many diverse ideas on this and other subjects.

SPOCK: True.

NIMOY: Would you be satisfied if I, as a human, took any random comment from the Vulcan literature as representative of all Vulcan thought on the subject?

SPOCK: To do so would be to deny the usefulness of. ...

NIMOY: And if you are popular among humans, doesn't that say something positive about the human ability to value a culture and a lifestyle alien to its own?

SPOCK: That does seem logical.

NIMOY: Mr. Spock, coming from you I consider that a great compliment. From the bottom of my emotional heart ... I thank you!

What follows is an excerpt from a speech I delivered to the Star Trek Convention, New York City, February, 1973: ". . . I have heard from various quarters that Leonard Nimoy wanted to disassociate himself from Star Trek, that Leonard Nimoy hated Star Trek, that Leonard Nimoy didn't want to have Star Trek mentioned around him or ever hear another joke about pointed ears again. And I will say this, that when an actor such as myself sets out to play a role as unique and as special as Spock was, the challenge to us is to try to make people believe that you are that character. That's what I consider good acting. And if I have been successful in that, then I can't complain about that because all of my training as an actor is related to that end ... to get an audience to believe that I am that character. I'm not interested in an audience watching my performance and seeing the separation between me and the character. I think we all (the Star Trek cast) feel the same way.

"The whole concept was to create a believable environ­ment in spite of some of the pretty fantastic things that were going to take place on the show. Therefore, I can not, never have, and never will complain about identification with the character. To begin with, because I feel that if that identification has taken place I believe I've done my job as an actor, and second, because the character is perhaps the most dignified, most intelligent, most meaningful and most challenging character that I will ever get to play in my life and I'm very proud of it!"

That was the truth, but it wasn't really that simple. At the end of the shooting on the third season I felt finished with Star Trek and Mr. Spock. I thought, "I've had enough of pointed ears to last me a lifetime." I was very anxious to get away from the character and the show and move on to other things. During the next two or three years I began to become more and more sanguine about my relationship with the character because Star Trek seemed to be fading away and other types of roles and opportunities were being offered to me.

Then, gradually, during 1971 and 1972 I became aware that Star Trek and Mr. Spock were again growing in popularity and were having some negative impact on my opportunities in films and television. Theatre critics who came to see my performances seemed compelled to make some reference to the series and/or the character.

In December of 1971, I went to San Diego, California, to appear at the Old Globe Theatre in a production of The Man in the Glass Booth. The theatre had been kind enough to hire Ben Shaktman who had directed me in a production of Fiddler on the Roof. The Globe Theatre production department couldn't have been more creative and helpful.

Craig Noel and Adrienne Butler gave us whatever we felt we needed to do a first-rate production. Peggy Kellner, the scenic designer, had done a beautiful job of developing a lovely set and Ben had worked very closely with her to create a multimedia show using rear-screen projection slides.

For me this was a particularly special event. I had always admired the work done at the Globe Theatre and had always wanted to work there as an actor. I also felt that it was close enough to Los Angeles that I was almost working in the theatre at home. The pay was a very small fraction of my normal salary. The size of the theatre and the scale of ticket prices simply does not allow for "star salaries." I was working for three hundred dollars a week and was spending more than that in transportation to and from Los Angeles and maintaining an apartment in San Diego. What made it all worthwhile was that this was a case of knowing what I was doing and why I was doing it.

Glass Booth became a major theatrical and community event in San Diego. Robert Shaw, the author, put together a gut-wrenching piece of material dealing with guilt and vengeance centered on the Second World War and the extermination of Jews in Nazi concentration camps. Being Jewish, I felt very strongly about some of the statements that were being made. There was a small but very vocal group of people in the San Diego Jewish community who felt that the play was anti-Semitic. We were playing to packed houses and standing ovations every night, but I did feel distressed by the negative reaction of this handful of people.

On the other hand I felt that this could be the best kind of community catharsis using theatre as a focal point for an exchange of ideas. Having been contacted by the local Rabbi, we agreed to hold an open seminar session at his Temple to discuss the content and the question of anti-Semitism in the material. Craig Noel, Ben Shaktman and myself appeared at the Temple on a Sunday morning and found approximately 150 people waiting for us. Most of them had seen the play and the reception was very warm and encouraging.

The exchange of ideas was very lively and it became fairly obvious that the overwhelming majority of the people present were Jewish and did not consider the play anti-Semitic. Those few who did were concerned about the showing of the central character as being a Jew who had achieved power through real estate and financial manipulation.

Having very recently played Fiddler on the Roof, I had drawn some interesting parallels. I felt that those people, those same people, could identify easily with Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof because he represented the image of the poor Jew who didn't make waves and quietly went his way doing what the people in power felt he should do and not arousing any hostility or antagonism. It was interesting to me that in his major character song, "If I Were A Rich Man" he describes all of the fantastic ostentatious things he would do with money if he had it. "I'd build a big tall house with rooms by the dozen right in the middle of the town." "I'd fill my yard with chicks and turkeys and geese, squawking just as noisily as they can, as if to say 'Here lives a wealthy man.' " But Tevye is safe for these particular people because it is assumed that he will never have that money and never will reach that stage of ostentatiousness.

I couldn't help but wonder what might happen if Tevye had arrived in the United States and become as successful as Robert Shaw's character of Goldman in The Man in the Glass Booth. It seems that those same people who had loved him as a poor man would then turn on him with demands that he hide his wealth and function quietly on the lower rungs of society so as not to arouse the hostility of the community towards the rest of the Jews who live there.

The influence of Star Trek and Mr. Spock was still very apparent, particularly in the press. Sometimes it would take the form of a passing comment in the body of the piece such as, "Leonard Nimoy, Mr. Spock of the Star Trek series, played such and such a role." In other cases the connection was more immediate and direct. One of the San Diego newspapers' critics started his Glass Booth review with a banner headline which read, "Nimoy Great Sans Ears."

There were a lot of emotional crosscurrents operating for me at this time. Obviously, the work being offered was coming as a direct result of my impact as Mr. Spock. On the other hand, I was involved in something of a crusade to develop a reputation as an actor with some range.

At this point I went through a definite identity crisis. The question was whether to embrace Mr. Spock or to fight the onslaught of public interest. I realize now that I really had no choice in the matter. Spock and Star Trek were very much alive and there wasn't anything that I could do to change that.

I soon found out that the renewed popularity and interest were bringing me more and more offers which, although related to Star Trek and Spock, were proving to be very challenging. That being the case, I found that I could simply relax, do the work and go along for the ride.

On February 27, 1975, some seven years after the cancellation of the show, I was asked to appear during Star Trek Week at Bowling Green State University, Bowling Green, Ohio. During the course of my stay there, I had some exchanges with some students in a popular culture class:

QUES.: Why do you keep your image of Spock alive? Do you like the character that well?

NIMOY: I don't keep the image of Spock alive. I have had nothing to do with that.

QUES.: I mean, you're coming to Bowling Green as part of the Star Trek Week.

NIMOY: Not because I'm keeping the image of Spock alive. You see, the point is, it's happening the other way around. I am invited here because the Spock image is alive, and for me to refuse to come here would not affect, in any way, the life of Mr. Spock. That's the strange thing about it, and that's one of the things that I'm very curious about, and it's interesting that you put the question that way. Because I have done nothing at all to further the life of Mr. Spock. My concern is Leonard Nimoy. Spock is doing great and that's the way it is. That's really the way it is. Now for the first couple of years that they had Star Trek conventions cropping up, I didn't go to them. I was really into other things. I was doing Mission: Impossible and I was in Europe for almost the entire year in 1972, travelling all over the place, doing all kinds of other things unrelated to Mr. Spock. And then suddenly I said . . . "Look what's happened. Look at that Spock character." I mean it's really nothing that I've had anything to do with. I'm just along for the ride on this trip, and I say I'm here because you, or somebody here has said, "Hey, Star Trek and Mr. Spock are popular . . . Let's ask him if he'll come!" So I came.

QUES.:I was just wondering if you feel that it might be financially advantageous to keep the Spock image, whether you are keeping it alive or not, but that it is alive, is good for you?

NIMOY: Let's put it this way. The Spock character is very popular today. Okay. It is creating work for me. Certain kinds of work, certain kinds of appearances, theatrical offers and so forth. So, I'm making money. I'm making a good living, and I have challenging work, and as I say, I really don't believe there's anything I can do, one way or the other, to affect the future of Mr. Spock. That phenomenon has really taken on its own life. If the Spock character were not doing as well, if Star Trek had not caught on, I might not be as busy or involved doing this kind of thing, but there's also the possibility that I might be getting some of the offers to do some of those other parts that I'm not getting because of my Spock identity. You see, that's the way the pendulum has swung, and I've nothing to do with it.

QUES.: You're now stereotyped with an image like Spock. I can see where you'd have a problem in trying to get different acting jobs, overcoming that image with a producer or a director. But with yourself, do you have any problem in other jobs, overcoming that image?

NIMOY: With myself. . .?

QUES.: In your own mind.

NIMOY: No, well ... in a limited sense, I do. There are times when I start to play another role, a role other than Spock, and discover that perhaps I'm relying, without even being conscious of it, too much on the elements in Spock that were successful and trying to introduce them into the new character. One does tend to want to try to repeat one's success and that is a danger. Once in awhile for the sake of my own exercise I will choose a role that is so totally in opposition to the Spock character that there's no room for that, so that I know that my range is still there, but generally speaking, many of the roles that I'm offered do have Spock-like elements and that's why they're offered to me. Those are dangerous because that's simply a continuation or trying to lift success out of one area and sticking it in another, and it's not really creative, in the true sense. Now for example, I chose to do a play called: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest—to play McMurphy, because if there's anybody that's different from Spock, it's McMurphy. Because he's a totally instinctual, gut-level, reactive anti-intellectual character, as opposed to Spock, who is a thinker. That was a very exciting and very gratifying thing for me to do because I really didn't know how successful I would be. I'd catch myself thinking as McMurphy, and I'd say to myself, "Stop thinking," McMurphy doesn't think things out, he feels them out, you see?

For a long time I have been aware that many people would rather meet and talk to Mr. Spock than to Leonard Nimoy. For example at college lecture appearances students who come to hear and see Leonard Nimoy arrive with mixed hopes and expectations. There is curiosity about Nimoy. What does he look like in the flesh? To what extent is he like Spock? In appearance, in manner and in thought. Will they be able to experience the Spock presence, or is this to be a human-to-human contact? They will accept Nimoy respectfully and attentively. They are curious to hear what he has to say about himself, his thoughts and interests, etc. There is probably an ongoing comparison between Nimoy and Spock. A search for those human elements which Nimoy must have replaced with Vulcan characteristics.

Occasionally, Nimoy steps momentarily into the Spock character by choice or accident. The response is a wave of joyous recognition. It is as if Nimoy had stripped away the human facade and given the audience a glimpse of the real person, the Vulcan in the flesh disguised as a human.

Followers of the Star Trek show are so attuned to the character traits of Spock that they respond even to the most subtle hints that they are in the presence of the character.

Following the welcoming applause, Nimoy can open a lecture with a simple icebreaker: "You obviously watch a lot of TV," is a rather neutral position establishing a common meeting ground. On the other hand a flat delivery of a Spock line like, "You're a very emotional group of humans," immediately establishes the presence of the extraterrestial and gets a very strong, positive response. They seem to be saying, "Talk Spock."

During a question-and-answer period, the audience delights in seeing or hearing the typical Vulcan response to some of the questions:

QUES. (female): How old are you?

ANSWER (very straight-faced): What did you have in mind? (laughter) The question obviously reflects your need to judge the possible relationship between myself and other beings, possibly even yourself. This represents an illogical human compulsion on your part, based on certain insecurities and a fascination with linear time. It would be better if you humans could rid yourselves of this fixation.

The audience response would seem to suggest a delight in seeing the questioner or even the human race "put down." Particularly where the audience recognizes the question as being childish or fan-like in nature. The position seems to be "Spock should not descend to the level of the questioner. He is not so foolish as to give serious answers on silly or unimportant subjects. In fact, he elevates our thinking by pointing out the foolishness which is inherent in the question."

Among the individuals in the audience there is also a feeling of relief. "I thought that was a silly question and I'm glad Spock agrees with me."

This conversation took place between myself and a young lady who was working on a set of a TV production in which I was involved some years after the making of Star Trek:

SHE: In the transactional (TA) sense Spock is pure adult.

NIMOY: The question is why would the adult character of Spock or the pure adult be attractive to people, how would they find it interesting?

SHE: It's very strange . . . it's because underneath I always feel that I detect a deep caring, almost protective.

NIMOY: You mean he protects himself?

SHE: No. He protects the people he is with, particularly humans. That implies caring and loving. That is emotional and not totally adult. His actions seem to feel adult because he is always rational. He knows what is approp­riate here and there ... he always does the appropriate thing. But underneath it, I sense that he has. . . .

NIMOY: That he has compassion?

SHE: Yes, there seems to be a caring force which enables him to be this way.

NIMOY: Of course, he did have an earth-mother, a side which he has repressed.

SHE: Yes, and perhaps that is the motivating force that comes out that one feels. That's why I like Spock. Because of what is hidden . . . What you suspect, what you feel is there . . . Do you like him?

NIMOY: He's my best friend. He's the only one who understands me.

SHE: (Lots of laughter)

In the early 1960s, I became aware of a very successful organization known as Synanon, formed in Southern California. This was a self-help group for drug addicts which was accomplishing more in the cure of drug addiction than could be boasted by the more widely recognized institutions or the medical profession. I was teaching acting classes at that time and was curious about the "Synanon games." This was a group therapy type of situation. The major difference between it and other therapy groups being that there was no authority figure. All the people involved in the group were on the same peer level and the feeling was that there was no adult or authority figure to play to.

I became very impressed with the organization and volunteered to conduct some free acting classes at the center. Synanon has always been very dependent on contributions from individuals and small groups. No funds were forthcoming from city, state or federal governments. I taught acting classes weekly for about a year and then remained in close contact with the organization and some individuals who became close friends.

During the second year of Star Trek, my family and I wanted to take a vacation at the beach and we were scouting for an apartment. I mentioned this to one of my friends at Synanon and he suggested that we simply move into the Synanon House for the week. They had taken over a large complex in Santa Monica formerly known as the Del Mar Club. We moved in and spent a very pleasant week in a very unique and exciting environment.

During our stay I was invited to sit in on my first "Synanon game." During the course of the game one of the participants, a black lady who had developed marvelous verbal skills, posed a question to me about my appearance. As a matter of fact I think I should more accurately describe it as an attack. She asked me if I was on some kind of a "freak identity lack." She accused me of appearing like, or trying to appear like, "that Mr. Spock on television." It was my haircut which particularly attracted her attention and she suspected that I was trying to pass myself off as, or look like, Mr. Spock.

It was quite a shock to me. Of course there was nothing I could do about the fact that I looked like Mr. Spock. On that level the whole thing was rather funny. Other participants in the game tried to convince her that I actually was Mr. Spock but she wouldn't hear of it. "Why would Mr. Spock be sitting in on a Synanon game with a bunch of dope fiends?"

More important than the joke involved was the interesting question that it raised. She had accused me of "trying to pass myself off as Mr. Spock." Did that mean that I would rather be Mr. Spock than Leonard Nimoy?

Around Thanksgiving time each year the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce sponsors a "Santa Claus Lane Parade" down Hollywood Boulevard to open the Christmas season. These parades will usually feature many stars of motion pictures and television. The parade route is not very long, I would say approximately a mile or two, but tremendous numbers of people turn out and the sidewalks are quite jammed with parents and youngsters. In the fell of 1966, when Star Trek went on the air, Bill Shatner and I received invitations to ride in the parade. We both accepted and arrived at the gathering site and were put into an open convertible.

We moved out onto the street and were immediately welcomed with lots of cheers and enthusiastic shouting. Much of what I heard was, "Hi, Spock" or "What happened to your ears?" which was to become a perennial favorite. Stationed along the route were announcers on public address systems to tell the crowd who to watch for in the upcoming vehicles. After we travelled three or four blocks I heard the voice of one of the announcers booming out over the street. "And here they come now, the stars of Star Trek, William Shatner and Leonard Nimsy!" Bill turned to me and said, "You'll probably remember that as long as you live, and maybe you should."

Five years later, I was appearing at the Coconut Grove Playhouse in Miami, Florida. I was descending in the hotel elevator one day and stepped out into the lobby when a very enthusiastic gentleman grabbed me by the arm. "Hey," he said, "look who's here. I know you, I watch you on television all the time. I've got to have your autograph!" As we fished for pen and paper he spotted a friend of his walking through the lobby. "Charlie," he yelled, "come here quick . . . look who's here." Charlie approached just as I was about to sign my name to the piece of paper the gentleman had come up with. "Charlie," said my new acquaintance, "Do you know who this is? You see him all the time on television. Charlie, this here is Kreskin." I signed Kreskin to the piece of paper, shook hands with the two gentlemen and left.

Three years after that incident, I was doing some shopping in a market in Hickory, North Carolina. The lady who was waiting on me had recognized me when I came in and was extremely charming. As we did our business she insisted on introducing me individually to all the help in the store. Usually, these introductions are done in a testing process: "John, do you recognize this man?" or, "Mary, do you watch television?" The embarrassed individual is then forced to stare at me as an object of curiosity wondering who this person might be. Sometimes the recognition is immediate. On the other hand sometimes people are shocked to find "Mr. Spock" standing in their little market in Hickory, North Carolina. In this particular case, the response from one of the ladies was, "Why, of course I recognize him ... my son watches him all the time." She reached out to shake my hand and said, "You're Leonard Spock!"

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 895