On a crisp late-October evening, the ornate Murat Theatre at Old National Centre filled with Trekkies, casual fans, and the simply curious for a night with William Shatner. The venue itself set a fitting stage: completed in 1910 and designed by Oscar D. Bohlen for the Murat Shriners, it is the oldest surviving stage house in downtown Indianapolis. Its striped brickwork, minarets, and Middle Eastern-inspired details have hosted everything from early Broadway road shows and a 1932 Winston Churchill address to countless concerts and musicals. Restored and still glowing under Live Nation’s care, the room felt both grand and intimate—an ideal place to revisit one of cinema’s great sci-fi classics.
The evening opened with a restored screening of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Seeing the film again on the big screen, with its emotional core, Ricardo Montalbán’s unforgettable Khan, and James Horner’s sweeping score, was a genuine pleasure. The audience settled in with the easy recognition of a beloved story, and the presentation looked and sounded strong.
After the credits rolled, Shatner took the stage for a 1-hour-and-15-minute conversation and Q&A moderated by a companion who travels with him on the tour. What followed was less a formal interview and more a lively stand-up routine. Shatner spun stories, tossed out self-deprecating asides, and worked the room with the timing of someone who has spent decades in front of audiences. Laughs came easily; applause followed the sharper lines. When a few hecklers tried to steer the night, he handled them cleanly and without missing a beat, turning the interruptions into part of the entertainment rather than a disruption. It was good to see him again—sharp, funny, and clearly enjoying the exchange.
The performance itself was a success: warm, engaging, and true to the spirit of the evening. Fans left the theater smiling and trading favorite lines.
The same cannot be said for the $125 per person photo opportunity offered to VIP ticket holders. Roughly 200 people were moved through in a steady stream with virtually no interaction. Each person stepped up beside Shatner, who remained seated in a chair, for a quick professional snapshot and then moved on. For an American icon whose presence still carries real weight, the experience felt impersonal and rushed—more assembly line than encounter. It left a sour taste for some who had paid for what they hoped would be a brief but memorable moment with the man himself. A bit more time, a handshake, or even a simple “live long and prosper” would have gone a long way.
Even so, the core of the night—the film, the stories, and Shatner’s still-sharp command of a stage—delivered exactly what most people came for. In a beautiful historic room that has seen more than a century of performances, Captain Kirk once again held the bridge, and Indianapolis was glad to have him.
