☙ A Consideration of “Charlie X,” as Performed in the Early Season of the “Star Trek” Repertoire ❧
Gathered from Post-Performance Reflections by Various Members of the Order
First exhibited some fifty and nine years past, Charlie X occupies an uneasy but essential niche within the dramatised chronicles of Star Trek. Though its staging bears the marks of youthful enterprise—imperfect pacing, uneven gesture—it nonetheless delivers a morality play of uncommon resonance. Gauged by our Order with 25 percent offering the mark of A and 75 percent a mark of B, the episode settles respectfully at 3.25 upon 4.
The Tale as Told:
A solitary youth, one Charlie Evans, is discovered adrift in the black gulfs of space and taken aboard the noble vessel Enterprise. Having survived the wreck of a prior expedition, Charlie has lived in isolation under the cryptic tutelage of the unseen Thasians. He bears with him a terrible gift: the ability to reshape reality at a thought. Yet for all his power, he is but a child—lacking experience, decorum, or the understanding of human sentiment.
His yearning for companionship swiftly sours. When Yeoman Rand, the object of his fascination, rebuffs his awkward advances, Charlie’s confusion turns cruel. Aboard the ship, laughter dies on the lips of the crew as his tantrums escalate from petulance to peril. The tension builds inexorably until the return of the Thasians, who—recognising the danger—remove him from among humankind, his fate sealed in cosmic exile.
One member of the Order observed:
“Though the performance stumbles at times, the narrative pierces sharply. Charlie believes love ought to be his by right—consent be damned. A familiar conceit, and a chilling one.”
Another offered this:
“It is a cautionary tale clothed in speculative romance. The horror lies not merely in Charlie’s uncanny gifts, but in his infantile mind. His final plea—‘I want to stay… don’t let them take me’—is not contrition. It is confusion.”
A third, more pragmatic in tone, noted:
“There is something rather telling in the way the crew responds. Captain Kirk never tasks Rand with placating the boy. The Enterprise remains one of the few fantastical workplaces wherein the dignity of its women is preserved.”
One last reflection deserves mention:
“The series did not begin with sermons. It began with story. Conflict first—lesson later. That was its strength. Later iterations too often reversed the order.”
The production favours disquiet, employing narrow framing and sudden orchestral stabs to signal Charlie’s volatility. Grace Lee Whitney’s portrayal of Rand deserves particular commendation—conveying both warmth and wariness with quiet strength. The menace, while touched by the supernatural, is deeply domestic; a child with too much power, loosed among civilised people.
Final Consideration:
Charlie X endures as a stark missive from the earliest days of the Star Trek corpus. Beneath the prosthetics and vintage staging lies a parable of power and entitlement that remains, alas, painfully relevant.
