The Lost Ending of 'Friday's Child': When Star Trek Dared to Go Darker
There’s something profoundly intriguing about the stories we don’t get to see—the alternate endings, the deleted scenes, the creative battles that shape the final product. Take, for instance, Julie Newmar’s episode of Star Trek in 1967. On the surface, it’s a classic tale of heroism and maternal triumph. But dig deeper, and you’ll find a scrapped ending that was far more complex, far more daring, and, frankly, far more human.
A Triumph or a Tragedy?
The aired version of Friday’s Child wraps up neatly. Eleen, the pregnant widow of a slain leader, gives birth to a son and embraces her role as regent. It’s a feel-good moment, complete with a baby named after McCoy and Kirk. But here’s the twist: this wasn’t the ending writer D.C. Fontana originally envisioned. Her script had Eleen sacrificing her child to save herself, only to be executed anyway.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it challenges our expectations of motherhood. Fontana wasn’t interested in a tidy, heartwarming resolution. She wanted to explore the darker, more ambiguous side of human nature. In her version, Eleen wasn’t a hero—she was a survivor, willing to do whatever it took to live.
Personally, I think this is where the episode could have transcended its era. The 1960s were a time of idealized narratives, especially when it came to women. Fontana’s ending would have been a bold statement, a reminder that motherhood isn’t universally sacred, and that cultural norms often dictate how we perceive sacrifice.
The Clash of Visions
Of course, Fontana’s vision didn’t make it to the screen. Gene Roddenberry, Star Trek’s creator, had a different idea. He saw motherhood as inherently noble, a view that clashed directly with Fontana’s more nuanced perspective. This wasn’t just a creative disagreement—it was a clash of worldviews.
What many people don’t realize is how often these behind-the-scenes battles shape the stories we love. Roddenberry’s vision won out, but Fontana’s frustration is palpable. She wasn’t just arguing for a darker ending; she was arguing for a more honest portrayal of humanity. As she put it, ‘I don’t think all women are mommies, and I don’t think all women love their children.’
From my perspective, this tension is what makes Star Trek so enduring. It’s a show that constantly grapples with ideals versus reality, optimism versus pragmatism. Fontana’s ending would have pushed that boundary even further, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about society and ourselves.
The Cultural Context
If you take a step back and think about it, Fontana’s ending wasn’t just a narrative choice—it was a cultural critique. The Capellan society she created devalued women, seeing them primarily as ‘broodmares.’ This raises a deeper question: how much has really changed since 1967?
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Fontana’s personal life influenced her writing. She didn’t have children and didn’t want them, which gave her a unique perspective on motherhood. This isn’t just a story about a TV episode; it’s a story about how creators’ experiences shape their art.
What This Really Suggests
The lost ending of Friday's Child isn’t just a footnote in Star Trek history—it’s a missed opportunity. It’s a reminder that even in a show known for its progressive ideals, there were limits to how far it could go. Fontana’s script challenged those limits, and while it didn’t make it to air, it’s a testament to the power of storytelling to provoke thought and spark debate.
In my opinion, this is why we’re still talking about Star Trek decades later. It’s not just the optimism or the futuristic tech; it’s the willingness to ask hard questions, even when the answers aren’t pretty. Fontana’s ending might have been too dark for 1967, but today, it feels like a story ahead of its time.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on this lost ending, I can’t help but wonder what Star Trek could have been if more of these bold ideas had made it to the screen. Would it have been too much for audiences? Or would it have pushed the conversation even further?
One thing is clear: Fontana’s vision was a reminder that even in the 23rd century, humanity is messy, complicated, and far from perfect. And isn’t that the kind of story we need more of?
