I dipped into the Wal-Mart bargain bin recently and scooped out the special editions of Star Treks II, III, IV, VI, and First Contact. At five bucks each, how could I resist? The quality of Star Trek films is uneven, but the best Trek adventures (The Wrath of Khan, The Undiscovered Country, and First Contact) are fantastic stories well-told. One need not be a Trekker to enjoy them.

As I watched featurettes about visual effects circa 1984, I was reminded how time consuming the whole stuff-blows-up-in-space affair used to be. To be sure, CGI (Computer Generated Imagery, in case you've been cryogenically frozen since 1993) is a labour-intensive process. $100-million budgets are now routine. But making the Enterprise fly used to be an organic, painstaking process. The effects wizards of 1982 got stiff backs and glue on their hands. Today's generation gets carpal tunnel syndrome.

Watching The Search for Spock, I found myself wondering if I'd have the patience for filmmaking in the pre-digital world. I asked myself why I aspire to make films. Am I in it for the stories? The process? Both? Could I tell stories in a purely photochemical medium? Would I love the process as it existed when I was born?

Editing is my favorite stage of filmmaking, but I've never cut a foot of film. Not one snip. My love of editing stems from the fluid, improvisational way I do it. Thanks to nonlinear editing systems, I can organize footage almost as quickly as I order my thoughts. Every frame is at my fingertips. Complex effects, motion graphics, and colour correction tools require just a few mouse clicks. Could I bear the work if it weren't so?

The first six Trek movies were doubtlessly cut the old-fashioned way. Work prints. White gloves. Splicers and glue. Grease pencils and hanging strips of celluloid. Would I take pleasure in this earthier, craftsmanlike trade? More likely, I'd tear out my hair in frustration.

How about image acquisition? 35mm film remains the king of beaufitful moving images (IMAX and 70mm rarities notwithstanding). Show me the money, and I'll shoot film every time - for now. But it won't be long before digital video overcomes its various deficiencies and matches film colour-for-colour and pixel-for-grain. When digital makes that leap, most filmmakers will rejoice and embrace the efficiency and fluidity offered by digital images. But my question remains: is easier better? Is my commitment as a filmmaker diminished by the facility of digital production?

When Spock was reborn ("Jim... Your name... is Jim") and the credits rolled, I still had no answers. Perhaps, confronted with the tools of the day, I'd be just as eager to make films in 1984 as in 2008. Perhaps I'd be energized by the tactile pleasures of assembling stories foot by foot.

Perhaps. I may never know.