2:25 p.m.: UHURA: "Captain, the alien has released a large object." We have taken up where we left off before the noon meal, and so has the laughter. I'm sure it's because of the special juxtaposition of the Earth to the stars and planets at this particular moment that we are responding so boisterously. There is no other way to explain this nuttiness. Robert Wise attempts to bring order, but he can't hold the company together while he is busy holding his sides. "Next line, next line," he implores through his tears.
SULU: "They've released another one . . . two . . . three more!"
Unbelievably, the laughter swells. The camera crew, the grips, the prop masters; no one is immune. Irrationally, we try to push forward.
McCoy speaks next and for a brief moment De Forest is able to rally the solemn tone the line demands: "They're the same things that hit us."
No one is standing now; no one is able to. Those of us not in chairs are literally rolling on the floor. The tide of laughter rises again. We are definitely in danger of being pulled under. Only Leonard, clinging desperately to his character of Spock, maintains the barest shred of sanity. Alas, even as he fights for control, his generally reliable eyebrow threatens to twitch past his forehead into his hairline.
"Your speech, your speech," gurgles Bill, red-faced and barely coherent through his cachinnation.
"Not on your life," replies Leonard. "I wouldn't touch that line. . . "
"Please, please!" beg cast and crew alike.
The better self of Leonard loses out to the lesser half of Spock. With a definite human flavor, the Vulcan science officer says, "It's a hundred times more powerful than what hit us."
I should say he starts to say. He never quite finishes it. Almost immediately he is helpless like the rest of us. It is as if the little Dutch boy had withdrawn his finger and with it any last hope we might escape the deluge. It is not possible that forty-four responsible, skilled, and respected professionals could react with such unmitigated glee to such obvious and puerile toilet humor, but here we are, every last one of us, about to be flushed away.

3:32 p.m.: When Uhura's line is finally recorded, it is changed to: "A large object has been released by the intruder." It must be okay; we've finally stopped laughing. (3)

With Star Trek's syndicated popularity a very definite reality, new "Trek" ideas began to pour in. One of the earliest, just after cancellation, came from Paramount Television, which asked Gene Roddenberry if he was interested in producing a spin-off series centered around the half-human, half-Vulcan Mr. Spock character. But Gene argued that a continuation of the original Star Trek would work even better. He believed that the tendency was to give the Spock characterization total credit for being interesting in itself, whereas it was the surrounding human contrast that made Spock most interesting. He believed that proper balance of surrounding human contrast was either the Star Trek format or something weighted and balanced much like it. A series of episodes about Spock on Vulcan with Vulcans gives the audience little point of human identification. His reasoning was that if they took Spock away from Vulcan so you could have that human contrast, why invent a wholly new thing when you already had him among humans in Star Trek, which still had an untapped story potential? (4)

Leonard Nimoy's first visit to Freddy's makeup chair, after ten years, found it a happy reunion for both, although there were a couple of minor problems in transforming him into Mr. Spock. Fred had become a bit rusty from lack of practice in applying pointed ears, and together he and Leonard struggled through that first session. For example, Fred had forgotten that the first step was to glue Leonard's own ears back, which Leonard suddenly remembered about halfway through the session, when he began looking like the Vulcan version of a hobgoblin. Leonard agreed he felt a little strange having the ears put on him again after all those years. He had never expected this would happen again when he became Mr. Spock for what he assumed was the last time on the day the final television episode was filmed in 1968.

Leonard Nimoy was usually the first to arrive and settle into the makeup chair. He has always been Fred's special responsibility, and the two men have built up quite a good rapport during all these years. One morning, after the movie had been in production for about five months, DeForest Kelley arrived earlier than usual and settled into the chair, ready to be made up as Dr. McCoy. Fred, conditioned to put ears on the person who was always in the chair at that hour, didn't bother looking up from his powders, creams, and spirit gums, assumed it was Leonard who has just seated himself, and began putting ears on DeForest! The actor was startled, but didn't say anything, wondering what Fred was up to. Finally, the makeup artist downed some of his morning coffee, opened his eyes a bit wider, and realized what had happened. He had turned Dr. McCoy into a Vulcan! Much to De-Forest's relief (and no doubt the good doctor's, as well), the ears were quickly removed.

Freddy was also responsible for the final look of the upswept eyebrows which further characterize Mr. Spock and other Vulcans. For the movie, the eyebrows had to be applied hair by hair each day, and often Leonard was kept in the chair for nearly two hours, more than twice the amount of time needed for the television series makeup.

A milestone was passed during the production of the Star Trek movie when Fred produced his 2000th Spock ear. This proliferation of pointed ears was necessitated by the fact that although in the television series the ears could be used again and again (up to four times, since slight nicks or tears didn't show up on the small screen), in the film version, Leonard Nimoy went through an average of nearly three sets per day!

Several days before Leonard's first scene, the actor reported to makeup in order to have molds made of his ears, enabling Fred to produce the perfectly fitted latex appliances. Although the makeup artist had saved the molds from the television series, Leonard's ears had grown in a few places during the interim years, and the old molds were useless. From these new molds (two of each ear) Fred Phillips whipped up his latex mixture each day. Six ingredients were carefully measured and weighed to the exact gram requirement, then blended together, according to a special recipe, in an ordinary kitchen mix-master. Fred insisted that the temperature of stage 10 be kept no hotter than 70 degrees or these ingredients and other makeup would be ruined. Two sets of ears were poured and baked each day in Freddy's special oven for six hours, and any excess ears were stockpiled for emergencies. And sure enough, an emergency occurred. Over the 1979 New Year's holidays, the cast and crew were off from Friday until Tuesday, and before leaving for the long weekend, Freddy mixed up a batch of Spock ears and put them in the oven to bake. He was assured by a studio nightwatchman that the oven would be turned off in five and a half hours, when the ears would be thoroughly cooked and ready. But the guard apparently had too much holiday cheer, and forgot all about the oven. Four days later, Freddy returned to find the oven was still on, and the molds had blown up! New impressions of Leonard's ears had to be cast, and Freddy had to work around the clock to produce new molds in time for Spock's next scenes.

Fred did quite a brisk trade in pointed ears during the motion picture. Not only did Mr. Spock keep him occupied, but the Vulcan Masters also had to be properly fitted with the pointy appliances. It is a biological fact that human's (and presumably humanoid's) ears and noses grow throughout their lifetime. Since the Vulcan Masters are very old, even by Vulcan standards, which consider two hundred fifty years an average lifespan, these wisened leaders would naturally have much larger than average ears, and you will notice that Fred allowed for this growth when you look carefully at the actors in the scene on Vulcan. (4)

Then there were difficulties with the cast involved, those who played the stoic Vulcan Masters. What could account for their un-Vulcanlike nervousness? Leonard Nimoy, puzzled by this reaction from his fellow performers, brought the question to Gene Roddenberry. Gene did a bit of investigating and discovered that the actors were in awe of Leonard - he had become that much of a legend as the Vulcan Spock. (4)

9:37 a.m.: Aside from a few long establishing shots of Vulcan (done in Wyoming), Leonard has not yet worked in the movie. He now comes by in a black Vulcan costume replete with short cape for a film test of the wardrobe. I am suddenly struck by what a sensational Dracula he would make. The perfect vampire! I wonder how he would take such a lefthanded compliment.

12:12 p.m.: I run into Leonard again on the way to lunch. I begin to tell him that Paramount owns the rights to the novel Interview with a Vampire, but he anticipates me. He's been talking to them for over a year and a half about the project with nothing resolved as yet. I guess an actor is an actor is an actor, and a good role, even if it's the living dead with pale skin, red eyes, and long teeth, is an attractive prospect. (3)

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 22

7:45 a.m.: I run into Leonard again in the makeup room. He is feeling a bit dragged out this morning. He had spent the early part of the previous evening working on a rewrite of his lines in the tag and then went to Harold Livingston's house to consult with him on the proposed changes. Mix the long hours of the day with the long hours of the evening and stir with a couple of gin and tonics and you have on a Wednesday morning at 7:45 a somewhat droopy-eared Vulcan. Actually, I am rather impressed by Leonard's tenacity. Here we are after four months - four months, incidentally, not without turmoil, confusion, conflict, frustration, and fatigue - finally approaching the last pages of the story and breathing a deserved sigh of relief for our successful effort, and there is Leonard still trying to improve upon the product, still trying to make it better. It is an admirable trait, one that speaks of character and integrity and leads me to believe that even without Spock in his life, Mr. Nimoy would have found a way to become an exceptional success in our business.

9:30 a.m.: We start rehearsing this ultimate version of the tag:
SCOTT: We can have you back on Vulcan in four days, Mr. Spock.
SPOCK: Unnecessary, Mr. Scott, I have no business on Vulcan.
Those are Spock's written words, anyway. What Leonard dryly says instead is: "If Dr. McCoy is to remain aboard, my presence here is essential." It's a funny line. We all break up. Leonard doesn't crack a smile. This is the speech he was working on the night before in an effort to bring a lightness to the ending.
We rehearse the scene again and this time he says the speech as written. A third time, and he again incorporates his own words. Gene is present throughout but says nothing. I am waiting to see if there will be a confrontation between them. We shoot the master and the line spoken is the original one. If there was a discussion between actor and producer concerning the choice, I have missed it.

5:23 p.m.: The rest of the afternoon is spent shooting covering angles of the master: three-shots, two-shots, closeups. Routine stuff. Business as usual. It could be any day. And yet Nichelle, Majel, Jimmy, George, and I are working for the last time. The earth hasn't opened up. The sky hasn't fallen in. God is obviously busy washing out His socks.

Oh, yes, when they finally come to Mr. Spock's closeup, two versions are shot: one with the original line and one with Leonard's invention. Tune in Christmas 1979 to find out which one they keep.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 24

9:51 a.m.: While we're waiting I congratulate Leonard on getting his version of Spock's tag speech on film. His rejoinder is, "I guess it was a bit devilish of me trying it out in front of Gene so that he could hear the laugh it would get." "Devilish"? Despite the pointy ears, that is not a word I would have thought in Leonard's lexicon. I find his use of it delightful but totally incongruous with my image of him. Next he'll tell me about something "impish" he has done. Ye, gads! Give me another sixteen weeks on this picture and maybe I'll begin to know who these people really are I'm working with. (3)