Brief note: Star Trek: Discovery
Like Sherlock Holmes pastiches, new Star Trek films and series tend to be endlessly citational. It is therefore no surprise that the two-part pilot reworks the scenario of the original series' "The Menagerie" (itself composed out of that series' original pilot), in which Spock, our half-Vulcan son of Sarek, mutinies to bring his former captain, Christopher Pike, to Talos IV. In TOS, of course, Spock's court-martial has a happy ending (as does Pike). But in ST:Discovery, Michael Burnham (human ward of Sarek) mutinies to save her captain from certain death at the hands of the Klingons, only to fail on all counts and plead guilty at her own court-martial, theoretically ending her career. As she is the series lead, it clearly won't, but still. (Still, at least we now have a good reason for Spock pretending she doesn't exist.) Indeed, her captain dies the same way (impaled) as does the captain of the Kelvin in the first Abrams reboot. Too, the "Vulcan hello" of the first episode, rejected by both Captain Georgiou and Admiral Anderson as being not the Starfleet "way"--Starfleet refuses to shoot first--is the equivalent of Sisko slugging Q in DS9. ("I'm not Picard," snaps Sisko.) Same universe (or is it?), but not the same series.
Obviously, one can carp endlessly about deviations from canon (heresy!). For starters: since when have Vulcans been capable of long-range telepathy? (Picking up hundreds of Vulcans dying at once, yes; individual communication, no.) Wouldn't Amanda have something to say about her husband turning Burnham into Vulcan mini-me? That said, I've always subscribed to the "mysterious historical filter" theory of Star Trek, in which our own moment in time limits what we "see" on the screen, so the Abramsesque sets aren't troubling. Certainly less troubling than the sometimes weird pacing and that terrible Troi-cum-Spock science officer (well-acted, yes, but the character...). Everything looks pretty, and the makeup and effects are all excellent, the much-maligned lens flares aside.
The new Klingons have provoked the most exasperation, and for good reason--not only has the makeup been redone yet again (perhaps we could have just returned to TOS-era Klingons while we're at it? No?), but as Aaron Bady points out, their representation right now is "deeply racist" (complete with stereotypical evil albino, no less). Nevertheless, the episode does hint at potential future plot lines that have to do with unity and difference, which may at least complicate how the Klingons have been introduced. T'Kuvma, who casts himself as the heir of the legendary warrior Kahless, promotes a new religion that promises to bring together the now-degraded and fragmented Houses into union under the aegis of war. In his dream of Klingon imperial reunion, even the most marginalized Klingons have a part--he is himself an outcast and he embraces another, Voq, who will presumably become the next leader. But T'Kuvma's Reformation of sorts has no place for the non-Klingon, who exists only to be killed in heroic battle. The Federation, by contrast, celebrates its inclusivity: besides the non-humans everywhere, the episode opens with Georgiou and Burnham on a mercy mission to a species in danger of extinction. When faced with the Klingons, however, their protocols immediately fall apart. Moreover--citations again!--the Klingons' objection to "We come in peace" is eerily reminiscent of the famous "root beer" conversation between Quark and Garak in DS9 about the Federation insinuating itself into your consciousness. Burnham's upbringing with the Vulcans seems like a third way between the two: on the one hand, Sarek and the other Vulcans have taken her in (so, the Federation--celebrate your differences); on the other hand, she has been raised as a Vulcan (so, the Klingons--subsume all differences). We'll see.