Headline: Star Trek: Section 31 Faces a Cosmic Crash Landing in a Review Labeled as Its Biggest Embarrassment Yet

Gather a sufficient number of Star Trek enthusiasts in one space, and the discourse will invariably shift to which installment among the franchise’s films is deemed the least favorable. The prevailing opinion suggests that *The Final Frontier*, *Insurrection*, and *Nemesis* are in contention for the dubious honor of being the worst. Each film boasts a dedicated faction of supporters who will staunchly defend its cheesy elements, audacity, and overall tone. Personally, I find enjoyment in revisiting *The Final Frontier* every five years, mainly to indulge in Jerry Goldsmith’s remarkable score. Fortunately, such debates will be put to rest for good on January 24, 2024, when *Star Trek: Section 31* premieres on Paramount+.

This new offering stands as the most disappointing to bear the Star Trek label in recent memory.

**Spoilers Ahead for Star Trek: Section 31.**

*Star Trek: Section 31* is a streaming movie centering on Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh) following her exit from *Star Trek: Discovery*. Initially approved in 2019 as a series, it languished in development for various reasons until 2022. During this time, showrunners Bo Yeon Kim and Erika Lippoldt, alongside credited screenwriter Craig Sweeny, grappled with the concept. Director Olatunde Osunsanmi shared with *SFX Magazine* that Sweeny rewrote the project seven times, first intending it as a series before transitioning it into a film. Trek executive producer Alex Kurtzman was eager to kick off production to leverage Yeoh’s 2022 Academy Award win for *Everything Everywhere All At Once*.

The final product feels strikingly like a series hastily edited down to feature length, lacking coherence and suffering from the same pitfalls that plagued *Discovery*, where viewers are treated to a dramatized synopsis rather than a fully developed script. While there are thematic echoes and plot connections, the connective tissue that binds them together is absent—resulting in merely a sequence of disconnected events.

The narrative, credited to Kim and Lippoldt, falls squarely into the «and then this happens» trope—something filmmakers caution against in more advanced scriptwriting courses. Significant moments frequently feel unearned, demanding emotional investment in characters that are barely introduced and unlikable at best. A particularly awkward scene near the conclusion depicts two individuals, who have shown no real chemistry, holding hands and gazing into their impending demise. While they do share their personal histories, there’s little indication that they share a bond beyond basic work-related interactions.

Subpar material becomes somewhat forgivable when a talented cast is able to elevate the script, but Michelle Yeoh unfortunately does not. A remarkable actress with a wealth of underrated performances in her lengthy career, she is more suited to roles with complex emotional depth than to the high-camp caricatures she faces here. Even at her most redeeming, it strains credulity to accept Yeoh as the sort of ruthless character that Star Trek requires of Georgiou. Instead of scaling down the narrative to better suit her abilities, the film unnecessarily expands the scope, expecting Yeoh to fill a space that doesn’t align with her strengths.

The rest of the ensemble suffers similarly from shallow characterizations amidst an overwhelming amount of clutter, leaving little time for nuance. Introducing the Section 31 team with six members prior to Georgiou’s arrival turns each secondary character into little more than a sketch—there’s the moody one, the comic relief, the uptight one, the robotic one, the attractive one, and the one with a questionable accent.

If *Section 31* had been produced as a series, viewers could potentially forgive the simplistic introductions, knowing they’d have time to deepen their connections with the characters over subsequent weeks. But in a film format, this approach falls flat; shocking plot twists—such as an unexpected character death designed to increase the stakes—are rendered ineffective. The dialogue frequently devolves into confusing chatter that feels more like poorly executed improv than substantial characterization, often cycling through reminders of basic plot points, like Georgiou’s villainous past.

Osunsanmi’s directing style often seeks to capture attention through flashy panning shots, tilts, and Dutch angles. Ironically, his distinct flair disappears during the crucial conversations where characters simply interact, devolving into the standard medium shots typical of television. The action scenes similarly lack clarity, betraying any sense of spatial awareness and failing to convey the narrative effectively. A climactic punch-up lacks coherence, making it difficult for audiences to follow the action or appreciate what’s at stake.

Moreover, Osunsanmi makes the puzzling choice to film all of Michelle Yeoh’s fight sequences in close-up. When showcasing Yeoh’s talents, a broader view would allow her and her co-stars to exhibit their skills. Yet these moments are confined to tight shots that obscure her abilities and sap any energy from the action.

Before diving into *Section 31*, I revisited relevant segments from *Deep Space Nine* to reflect on their moral dilemmas. That series frequently questioned the extent to which one might go to defend their beliefs and ideals. The Federation, often heralded as a kind of paradise, raises the provocative question: does paradise require its own extrajudicial assassination unit? While it wasn’t simply a gimmicky plotline, it presented an intellectual exercise to explore the core values of Starfleet when its existence is threatened. In stark contrast, *Section 31* lacks this depth, and if you find it compelling, it’s likely that your values are misaligned with the fundamental principles of Star Trek.

Regrettably, Alex Kurtzman seems to revel in the notion of Starfleet possessing its own covert killing squad, as evidenced by their frequent appearances during his tenure. He has never shied away from an affinity for narratives reminiscent of the War on Terror, which are unwelcome in productions like *Star Trek: Into Darkness*. Unfortunately, *Section 31* embodies a thoughtless grimdark approach, characterized by violence and moral ambiguity that is fundamentally unenjoyable to watch, beyond its numerous shortcomings as a cinematic experience.

The signals of impending trouble for *Section 31* became clear when Rob Kazinsky, who plays Zeph in the film, began preparing for a negative reception early on. He expressed concerns that the film might be poorly received, particularly since fans continue to clamor for “just 1,000 more episodes of *TNG*.” Admittedly, some fans are merely eager for a steady stream of nostalgia. These individuals often lauded Season 3 of *Picard* and eagerly anticipated *Star Trek: Legacy*. Conversely, many viewers, including myself, desire a production that is intellectually engaging, entertaining, and well-crafted—traits that are sorely lacking here.

I keep searching for positive aspects, and the most I can offer is that the costumes, co-designed with Balenciaga, are visually appealing. Although they lean somewhat toward a *Star Wars* aesthetic, I appreciate the emphasis on texture and tailoring, particularly as a departure from Trek’s current athleisure style. Additionally, the CGI is competent, maintaining the standards set by *Strange New Worlds*. So, there it is—two commendable features of *Section 31*.

Ultimately, it’s unclear who the target audience for this film is. It lacks the cerebral engagement that would satisfy traditional Star Trek fans, yet it doesn’t cater to the nostalgia-driven contingent that longs for superficial fan service. It fails to be brutal enough for those desiring a darker, more aggressive interpretation of Star Trek or campy enough for viewers hoping to enjoy watching Yeoh in stunning attire. It reminds me of how Warner Bros. discarded several films in pursuit of tax breaks; I wish Paramount’s financial team had exercised similar prudence here.