Star Trek: Section 31 is an ambitious but ultimately disappointing addition to the Star Trek universe. While the return of Michelle Yeoh as Emperor Philippa Georgiou initially promised a fresh and exciting direction for the franchise, the film falls short in almost every way that counts, leaving fans and newcomers alike frustrated by its chaotic execution.
Directed by Olatunde Osunsanmi and written by Craig Sweeny. Set during the “lost era” between the events of Star Trek: The Original Series and Star Trek: The Next Generation, the story centers on Emperor Philippa Georgiou, played by Michelle Yeoh. After joining Section 31, Starfleet’s shadowy covert operations division, Georgiou undertakes dangerous missions to protect the United Federation of Planets. Along the way, she is forced to reckon with the dark deeds of her past while navigating the morally complex world of espionage to secure the future of the Federation.
Section 31 starts in the Mirror Universe, where a young Philippa Georgiou (Miku Martineau) delivers an overly dramatic, monologue before carrying out murder—her final act in cementing her position as Terran Emperor. The scene, like much of the film, is devoid of any understanding of franchise’s core themes.
When Section 31 transitions to its present-day timeline, it takes an unexpected turn—becoming so tedious and unappealing that it transcends being simply “Kurtzman Star Trek” and instead becomes just a forgettable, ugly experience. The once-dominant figure of Philippa Georgiou is now living in the fringes of Federation space, running a disreputable bar under an alias. However, she’s reluctantly pulled back into action when a Section 31 team, led by the cold and calculating augment Alok (Omari Hardwick), seeks her expertise in tracking down a powerful and dangerous weapon. Joining Alok’s team are a mishmash of underwhelming and uninspired characters, including the irritating Vulcan Fuzz (Sven Ruygrok), the shapeshifting Quasi (Sam Richardson), the Deltan Melle (Humberly Gonzalez), the mech-suited Zeph (Robert Kazinsky), and Rachel Garrett (Kacey Rohl), a human and idealistic Starfleet officer. Instead of feeling like a cohesive team with a compelling mission, the squad feels like a random assortment of stereotypes and clichés that fail to engage or spark any interest.
Alex Kurtzman’s portrayal of Emperor Philippa Georgiou from the Mirror Universe in Star Trek: Discovery takes this concept to absurd extremes. Georgiou, a despot who slaughtered billions across countless worlds and literally feasted on Kelpiens, is inexplicably reframed as some sort of chaotic antihero—or, bafflingly, “Space Jesus.” Despite her horrifying past, the series attempts to redeem her through flimsy morality arcs, But Section 31 takes this to new extremes all while letting her swagger through scenes like a soccer mom dressed provocatively for Halloween, with an air of faux seduction that never quite fits the character. Her mysterious portal, which seems to promise redemption or salvation, feels less like a pivotal narrative device and more like an over-the-top metaphor for her misplaced role in the universe. It’s a tonal clash of camp, cruelty, and unearned gravitas that highlights the dissonance in her characterization.
Vulcan Fuzz stands out as one of the most irritating characters in all of Star Trek, easily earning the title of the franchise’s most annoying. With an over-the-top Irish accent that feels jarring and out of place, Fuzz delivers his lines with a constant stream of unfunny jokes and awkward, half-mumbled retorts. His humor, if you can call it that, relies on tired, repetitive quips that quickly grow grating. His attempts at comic relief fall flat, and instead of adding any charm or depth to the film, he becomes an intolerable distraction. In fact, his character feels like a poor imitation of Star Wars‘ Jar Jar Binks—clumsy, over-exaggerated, and completely out of sync with the tone of the story. Instead of being a quirky, lovable sidekick, Fuzz is just a cringe-worthy presence that’s hard to ignore.
Olatunde Osunsanmi’s continued involvement in directing Star Trek projects and Star Trek Discovery fundamentally misunderstood what makes Star Trek resonate with its fans, and now he has repeated those same catastrophic missteps with Section 31. Despite the presence of a talented cast, his direction has once again burdened the franchise with shallow, uninspired ideas that already failed to capture the essence of Star Trek in Discovery.
Section 31 is a painfully generic sci-fi mess that tries to appeal to a Star Trek audience while doing everything it can to distance itself from what makes Star Trek special. The film relies on superficial name-dropping of Star Trek lore, but any deeper connection to the franchise is absent. There’s no sense of “boldly going” here—just a lot of “badly going.”
The acting is inconsistent, and even Michelle Yeoh feels like she’s playing a completely different version of her Discovery character, lacking the nuance and depth she brought to previous performances. While the visual effects are serviceable, they’re completely undermined by abysmal writing and clunky dialogue. Early on, the incessant bickering and childish arguments among the ragtag crew become insufferable, making it hard to believe this is supposed to be a Star Trek production.
This latest effort feels like a betrayal of everything Star Trek represents. Where Jon Favreau succeeded in revitalizing Star Wars, bringing fresh life while respecting its core identity, Osunsanmi has dragged Star Trek further into mediocrity. Instead of innovation or respect for its legacy, Section 31 is an unremarkable, misguided mess. It’s more than just a disappointment—it’s a disservice to the franchise’s proud history.
The first and most glaring issue is the handling of the ensemble cast. The film introduces a host of new characters who, in any competent script, would have been given time to breathe and develop. Instead, they’re thrown into the narrative with barely any meaningful dialogue or backstory. As a result, when these characters inevitably meet their untimely ends, there’s no emotional impact because the audience doesn’t know who they are or why they matter. The lack of connection renders these moments hollow and trivial, robbing the film of its potential to deliver emotional depth.
Sound design is another critical failing. Dialogue is frequently drowned out by overly loud music, and what little can be heard is often muffled by the actors’ mumbling. Key plot points are buried under this auditory mess, leaving viewers in the dark about what’s actually happening. By the time the sound issues become unbearable, most viewers will have already given up on trying to follow the story altogether.
The music in Star Trek: Section 31 is as uninspired as the rest of the film, consisting of the most generic orchestral score imaginable. It drones on without any memorable themes or emotional impact, feeling like it was pulled from a stock library of background music. Occasionally, there’s a faint nod to classic Star Trek motifs, but these moments are so sparse and poorly integrated that they come off as an afterthought rather than a genuine homage. Instead of enhancing the narrative or adding tension, the score fades into irrelevance, failing to leave any lasting impression on the audience.
Perhaps the film’s most damning flaw is its inability to focus on anything for longer than a few minutes. The plot jumps from one idea to the next with such manic energy that it feels like the entire production was directed by someone with severe attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Themes and subplots are introduced and abandoned at a breakneck pace, leaving the narrative fragmented and incoherent. The film is packed with ideas, but none of them are explored with any depth or care, resulting in a shallow and unsatisfying viewing experience.
One particularly baffling scene exemplifies the film’s sloppy editing and lack of attention to detail. As the main characters engage in a tense conversation again drowned out in loud background music, one of them begins pouring drinks directly onto the tabletop, with all the glasses visibly sitting on the table. Then, without any transition or logic, a sudden jump cut to a wide shot shows the characters holding the glasses in their hands, as if a significant portion of the scene had been cut or hastily patched together in post-production. The jarring shift not only disrupts the flow of the moment but also highlights the film’s careless editing, pulling the audience out of the story and further undermining its already shaky credibility.
Star Trek: Section 31 breaks new ground in the worst way possible, firmly establishing itself as the most disastrous entry in the franchise since the infamously maligned Star Trek V: The Final Frontier—and by a considerable margin. While Star Trek V was at least charming in its campy missteps, Section 31 manages to be a soulless and chaotic mess, devoid of the heart, intelligence, or even basic coherence that fans have come to expect. Its relentless mishandling of characters, incoherent plot, and abysmal sound design elevate it to a new level of failure, making it not just a disappointment but a genuine stain on the legacy of Star Trek.
Even the brief cameo from Jamie Lee Curtis near the film’s conclusion couldn’t salvage this mess. Appearing as a holographic image covered in what looked like futuristic tech implants, she delivers a speech to the remaining crew about their next assignment, seemingly stepping into a leadership role. While her presence could have added some gravitas, the scene feels rushed and underwhelming, lacking the emotional weight or significance it needed. Curtis does her best with the limited material, but it’s ultimately a wasted opportunity in a film already weighed down by its lackluster storytelling and direction.
Star Trek: Section 31 is a chaotic misfire that squanders its potential. Despite Michelle Yeoh’s best efforts, the film suffers from weak character development, disastrous sound design, and a directionless script. It’s an unfortunate misstep for a franchise that has long been celebrated for its ability to balance compelling stories with thoughtful exploration of its characters and themes. Fans deserve better, and so does Star Trek.
Comparisons to more successful films like Guardians of the Galaxy or The Suicide Squad are inevitable, but they only highlight how little effort or creativity went into Section 31. It’s a low-effort, cringe-inducing attempt that does a disservice to the Star Trek name.
Verdict: Not Star Trek.
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