Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home at 40

How do you feel?

I’m not sure if I was born too late or too early to be a true Star Trek fan. I enjoy most of the movies and watched some TNG in the late ’80s, but I eventually drifted away. Part of that was self-consciousness—being labeled a “Trekkie” didn’t feel like it would help much when I was trying to talk to girls. But the truth is, I wasn’t so much a fan of the franchise as I was of the characters. The original crew was who I grew up with, and that’s where my loyalty has always been.

And those characters were never more fun than in 1986’s Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home—a.k.a. “the one with the whales.”

Whether you were a Trek fan or not, you probably knew this movie. It grossed $133 million, far more than the previous three entries, and remained the highest-grossing Trek film until the J. J. Abrams reboot era. Adjusted for inflation, it would land around $265 million today. For a mid-’80s genre film, that’s serious business."

Much of its success came from how grounded it felt. You didn’t need to know Klingon politics or transporter mechanics. Most of the story unfolds in 1986 San Francisco, as the crew travels back in time to retrieve humpback whales—extinct in their century—to answer an alien probe threatening Earth. It’s a classic fish-out-of-water comedy with light environmental messaging. Yes, it nods to whale hunting and “Save the Whales” culture, but it never gets heavy-handed. Star Trek often used futuristic scenarios to portray contemporary social issues. And to portray the green aliens as the sexiest.

As a ten-year-old, I wasn’t thinking about themes. I just loved watching Kirk and company stumble through the 20th century. Some jokes went over my head—like Kirk telling Gillian he thought Spock “did a little too much LDS.” I knew it was wrong from context, but only later did I appreciate the hippie undertones of Spock’s tunic and headband.

The film also sidesteps the usual time-travel clichés. When McCoy and Scotty hand over the formula for transparent aluminum, McCoy worries they’re altering the future. Scotty shrugs: “Why? How do we know he didn’t invent the thing?” It’s a wink at the audience—and proof the movie never takes its paradoxes too seriously.

Even as a kid, I appreciated the lighter tone and the chemistry. Over forty years, that appreciation has only grown. I love a good space battle as much as anyone—and no one’s kicking Ricardo Montalbán’s Khan out of bed—but director Leonard Nimoy and producer Harve Bennett made a conscious choice: high stakes, no photon torpedoes, no villains. They were right. The box office proved it.

But money isn’t why the film endures. It’s remembered because it’s accessible. I could have taken my mom in 1986 and she would’ve enjoyed it without knowing a thing about Starfleet. We even owned the VHS—a rarity in my house—because it was “priced to sell.” I pretty much wore the tape out. That kind of repeat viewing sinks a movie into your bones.

Years later, when I saw it playing at the Coolidge Corner Theatre, I jumped at the chance, and I asked my friend & fellow podcaster Claynferno if he wanted to go see it with me (In fact, if you’re looking for knowledge of Star Trek, and other nerdy stuff, hit up his Substack.). An arthouse screening of Star Trek is rare, but The Voyage Home feels like it belongs anywhere. The theater was packed. I have a fond memory of buying fruit roll-ups at the concession stand, which was an odd but enjoyable treat from my childhood, and Clay remarking that I was probably eating the same thing the first time I saw the movie in 1986. To paraphrase Terence Mann in Field of Dreams, the memories were so thick, we had to brush them away from oour faces.

Forty years later, I could open Paramount+ and enjoy it just as much as I did on VHS. Some people remember it for the cultural ripple effects—Greenpeace reportedly saw a boost in donations after its release. Others love the humor of future explorers navigating our “primitive” world.

I love it because it captures these characters, even Spock, at their most human—curious, compassionate, funny, and capable. That’s something that resonated when I was ten, resonates now, and probably always will.

Thanks for reading. If you want a little more on The Voyage Home, Clay and I and our fellow space cadet John Hunt covered it back during our pandemic Watch-Along phase of the podcast here. if you want to support my work, you can also check out my revamped eBay storefront here. They may not use money in the 23rd century, but we can all use some in this time period.