• by Larry Dobrow , Featured Columnist, May 9, 2013

It is a glorious time to be a nerd. Offline gatherings indulge our must-hear-about-it-first compulsions. Online communities permit - nay, encourage - us to disseminate our theories about island wormholes and fascism in outer space. Hell, the marketing of pop culture is as much about leveraging the collective might of our nerd enthusiasms as it is about playing to the masses. Along those lines, I have it on good authority that Jennifer Lawrence will be donning the season's hoTTTest earwax-drip receptacles in the September issue of Vogue.

One unfortunate consequence of this, however, is that the whole "too much of a good thing is sometimes less than a good thing" caveat comes into play more than it once did. The Internet is basically a pulpy slab of nerd manna, teeming with in-jokes and overaccommodating of flights of imaginative fancy. That's why my first reaction when I heard about the pairing of the original Mr. Spock with Mr. Spock v.2.0 in an Audi web promo was dismay. In the wake of their torch-passing scene in the Star Trek reboot, why go back to the well quite so soon?

I am, you see, one of them. I loved the original Star Trek with a ferocity bordering on the manic. At age eight, after 52 days of concentrated harassment, I convinced my father to take me to a Star Trek fan convention in New York. Unfortunately, it proved a huge scam: by "officially sanctioned," the show's promoters meant "not sanctioned, officially or otherwise" and by "large conference facility," they meant "room with table." Even more crushingly, Lt. Uhura didn't appear as promised (if, in fact, she was actually scheduled). At the time, I remember wondering how she could do this to me. It is a testament to the durability of the human spirit that, 30-plus years after this disappointment, I find myself in a healthy relationship with another living being.

All of that is to say: I didn't think anyone needed a commercially motivated klatch between Spocks old and young until I saw "The Challenge," a wryly brilliant video hyping Audi's new S7 sedan. Unlike just about every other web clip that attempts to tap the passion of a fervid fan base, it serves up inside jokes (most awesomely a play on the climactic scene from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan) and for-the-masses giggles (old Spock, bleeped for tender ears) in equal measure. It's a perfectly calibrated piece of promotional entertainment.

"The Challenge" opens with Zachary Quinto and Leonard Nimoy playing chess on their tablets. When Old Spock wins, New Spock proposes another contest: a race to the country club, with the loser picking up the tab for the post-golf meal. Quinto takes to the road in his spaceship-on-wheels Audi, while Nimoy lumbers into a creaky, cramped Mercedes. New Spock wins the race and receives a Vulcan nerve pinch for his efforts. Then the two Spocks watch aghast (furrowed brows, "fascinating!") as a driverless car heads off to park itself.

One might argue that pitting the two Spocks against one another isn't the most original concept, or that half of the bits will be lost on consumers who aren't lunatic fans. But the humor is sufficiently off-kilter to override those concerns - witness Nimoy's nod to one of his more regrettable career choices, or his warning that Quinto should "stand by to have [his] walnut emptied by a tractor beam." Leonard Nimoy: funny. Who knew?

"The Challenge" is similarly distinguished by the subtlety with which it makes its case for the Audi S7. In the clip, every image of the Audi is accompanied by Trek­-ky orchestral flair; every image of the Mercedes is set to silence. The clip alights on any number of Audi features - its trunk space, its curves, its triple-futuristic navigation system - without overplaying or fetishizing them. Set next to the comparably cloddish Mercedes, the S7 comes across as more than an aspirant to the luxury throne; it registers as a legitimate peer and legitimate competition. Hell, if I were in the market for a vehicle of this kind, the clip would motivate me to visit an Audi dealership. Where, presumably, the salesperson would take a look at my loan-worthiness and offer a condescending pat on the shoulder by way of consolation.

Thus "The Challenge" functions precisely the way it should: as both promotional entity and as entertaining-in-its-own-right content. It's a work of great, furious nerdly wonder. Trekkie or no, you'll love this thing.