I think it's a marvelous sequence. I've rarely seen anything so successful at conveying a sense of alienness and wonder. It's one of the only sequences in the Trek movies that really feels like it's about discovering the unknown, even if it's in the context of facing an existential threat. And it was very well-executed, with terrific miniature work and lighting effects, and of course Goldsmith's music. (Although the
background lighting created by a laser beam sweeping through smoke looks very dated in retrospect, since that was a trendy effect in the late '70s and '80s.)
I've always loved it, but in retrospect, there's no reason why it had to be that long. I think they were trying to channel David Bowman's travel through the Star Gate in 2001 (actually, several sequences in the film evoked that movie, probably intentionally.)
The thing is, the film had to be sent to theaters unfinished due to the inflexible deadline, so what we got was a rough cut. Rough cuts tend to be longer than they need to be, because they start by putting in everything, and then the director and editor decide which parts are expendable. It was always Robert Wise's intention to trim down the long FX sequences, and Goldsmith specifically wrote the V'Ger cloud and flyover cues to have a lot of repetition in them so that they could be easily trimmed to whatever the final sequence length turned out to be. So the leaner version of the sequence in the Director's Edition is closer to what Wise would've done in the first place if he'd been allowed to finish editing the film in 1979.
Some people feel the updates to the film that revealed V'Ger in its entirety took away from the sense of wonder, but for me and others V'Ger was so abstract to that point that it was nice to finally get an overall sense of what it looked like just so we could wrap our heads around it.
I agree. I appreciated being able to put the sequence in perspective, to understand that what the
Enterprise flew over was one of the six identical sides of the ship. It was good to pull back and see an overview of the whole thing, to see how it all fit together.
I don't like things to remain abstract and mysterious. I like to have my questions answered, to understand as much as possible. I guess that's why I'm not that fond of Kubrick's
2001, which pointedly explained nothing; I preferred Arthur C. Clarke's prose version, which explained pretty much everything. (The two were really a very odd pair of collaborators, given their opposite approaches.) I guess you could say I want to "learn all that is learnable."