If Episode 63 "Carpenter Street" has echoes of TOS' "A Piece of the Action", then Manny Coto's "Chosen Realm" must be described as a cover tune of TOS' "Let That be Your Last Battlefield".
It's basically the same story but updated to focus on religious hatred rather than racism. In it, Archer permits a small band of religious zealots access to Enterprise as his own crew work to repair their damaged ship. Once again, despite talking the talk about maintaining security onboard Enterprise, he first allows them to refuse Dr. Phlox's bio scans and then to station themselves all over the ship.
No surprise, each member of the band has within his or her body a biological explosive and they are ready and willing to sacrifice their lives to further their cause. They take over the Enterprise, so that the ship's advanced weaponry can be used to destroy the heretics on their home world and end a hundred years of religious war.
The parallels to al-Qaeda and ISIS are clear (just about as blatant as were the racial overtones of the TOS episode, which was roundly mocked for its lack of subtlety) and the show offers some fairly heavy-handed commentary on the sources of religion and religious belief.
That being said, Coto is a capable writer of suspense and "Chosen Realm" does a nice job of building tension as it progresses. He makes it clear early on that these religious zealots are willing to kill bother their own brothers and Star Fleet personnel for even the loosest reasons, which creates significant tension through the episode. We wonder just how far Coto and the series creative team will let these zealots go. They wipe out all the Enterprise's collected data on the spheres and blow themselves up on command -- we can't be comfortable that a great deal more damage won't be done before the show ends.
I liked the fact that Archer, when forced to choose someone from among his crew to be executed to pay for Enterprise's sins with respect to its investigation of the massive spheres that dot the Expanse, names himself but then convinces the religious leader (D'Jamat) to use a humane form of execution -- the transporter.
It's a nice bit of dramatic irony that we the viewers know that Archer must be alive somewhere on the ship but Coto delays us learning what he's up to for several long minutes of action.
Sure, there are some pretty common tropes at play here: Archer identifies very quickly a band member who is having doubts; the doubting zealot is quickly convinced to betray his people; and Phlox develops, in mere seconds, a compound that neutralizes the biological explosives and that can be distributed quickly and effectively through the ship's air supply systems
And I have a had time accepting that Archer, who seems finally to be reocgnising that he must focus on the of his ship and crew first as it cruises enemy territory, would permit the zealots free run of the ship when they refuse medical scans and seem to be placing themselves strategically in sensitive locations.
Or that a group of religious zealots would be so capable of breaking through password and encryption protections to take over the ship and so able to operate it. The leader presses a single button in the command centre and erases Enterprise's entire database on the spheres -- even I know that I gotta make a backup from time to time and I can't use "1 2 3 4" as my password on my computer.
I also wonder how D'Jamat, who is apparently one of the leaders of the orthodox army in the planet's religious war, can be found so far away from the planet with such a small group at the start of the episode. Wouldn't he be missed? He takes a pilgrimage at what is clearly a pivotal moment in the war, yet is highly placed enough that the infidels who fly out to confront Enterprise know him on sight.
Further, in the "Last Battlefield" final scene (the war is over and their entire planet has been laid waste), Archer says the destruction took place about six months before. So why did the infidels still have a task force of ships? And where were the survivors from D'Jamat's side?
I get so frustrated when reasonably decent episodes include such blatant and avoidable flaws. And I also wonder what impact this episode had on American viewers in the post-911 world, with its distrust of people with strong religious beliefs and its suggestion that such religious traditions are used to disguise aggressive, violent intentions.
Oh yea, and what happened to the three Xindi Enterprise captured in the previous episode and have stored in a cargo bay?
2.27.2016
Episode 63: Carpenter Street
B&B offer us their version of a time travel story. This time, Archer and T'Pol are sent back to the beginning of the 21st Century by our old friend Daniels to stop three Xindi reptilians from developing the infamous bio-weapon.
The episode offers all of the standard issue flaws associated with such story lines and several more that are related to sloppy writing.
The plot is simple: Daniels warns Archer that three Xindi have been spotted where they should not be. When Archer inquires about the Xindi attack on earth, Daniels tells him that the effects of those events have yet to be felt in the 28th(?) Century.
Archer and T'Pol then travel to 2002 to investigate the Xindi incursion, where they encounter a wayward young mercenary who is collecting human test subjects from all blood types for a mysterious "scientist". The scientist is, of course, Xindi and they are using the collected blood to develop the dreaded bio-weapon.
Archer and T'Pol intervene and, after several fairly ridiculous gun fights, manage to overcome the Xindi, stop them from a desperate attempt to set off the 3/4 developed weapon in the 21st Century and return the entire kit and kaboodle to the future.
Almost from the outset, it is clear that the writers don't have sufficient material to create a 42-minute episode. We are treated to several scenes that make absolutely no sense and contribute little to the plot. The extensive scenes involving the strung-out mercenary are over-long and not particularly well-developed and the scene where Archer and T'Pol (in a fairly charming salute to TOS' "A Piece of the Action" where Kirk and Spock encounter similar automobile-related challenges) try to find and operate a 21st-Century mode of transportation.
It's a thin, linear story that gets resolved all too easily.
And it makes no sense whatsoever.
If the Xindi's main goal is to destroy the human race before it destroys the Xindi, why go back in time for the sole purpose of developing a bio-weapon rather than choosing a time when they can easily destroy the human race? Why would Archer not go back in time to stop the Xindi attack on Earth? Why why why why why why?
Further, Daniels starts the show by telling Archer that three Xindi have been spotted (from the far distant future, no less) in a time and place where they should not be -- they have travelled back from Enterprise's time and timeline to Earth in 2002 -- yet he states that the impact of the Xindi attack on earth (which led to the Xindi excursion to 2002 but is not recorded in Earth history in Daniels' timeline) has not yet been felt in Daniels' time. Huh? Does this not seem completely contradictory to you?
Time travel stories are, by their very nature, filled with just these kinds of problems. And B&B do not appear to possess the creative talent (or, if they have the creative talent, then the time and energy) required to overcome them.
The episode offers all of the standard issue flaws associated with such story lines and several more that are related to sloppy writing.
The plot is simple: Daniels warns Archer that three Xindi have been spotted where they should not be. When Archer inquires about the Xindi attack on earth, Daniels tells him that the effects of those events have yet to be felt in the 28th(?) Century.
Archer and T'Pol then travel to 2002 to investigate the Xindi incursion, where they encounter a wayward young mercenary who is collecting human test subjects from all blood types for a mysterious "scientist". The scientist is, of course, Xindi and they are using the collected blood to develop the dreaded bio-weapon.
Archer and T'Pol intervene and, after several fairly ridiculous gun fights, manage to overcome the Xindi, stop them from a desperate attempt to set off the 3/4 developed weapon in the 21st Century and return the entire kit and kaboodle to the future.
Almost from the outset, it is clear that the writers don't have sufficient material to create a 42-minute episode. We are treated to several scenes that make absolutely no sense and contribute little to the plot. The extensive scenes involving the strung-out mercenary are over-long and not particularly well-developed and the scene where Archer and T'Pol (in a fairly charming salute to TOS' "A Piece of the Action" where Kirk and Spock encounter similar automobile-related challenges) try to find and operate a 21st-Century mode of transportation.
It's a thin, linear story that gets resolved all too easily.
And it makes no sense whatsoever.
If the Xindi's main goal is to destroy the human race before it destroys the Xindi, why go back in time for the sole purpose of developing a bio-weapon rather than choosing a time when they can easily destroy the human race? Why would Archer not go back in time to stop the Xindi attack on Earth? Why why why why why why?
Further, Daniels starts the show by telling Archer that three Xindi have been spotted (from the far distant future, no less) in a time and place where they should not be -- they have travelled back from Enterprise's time and timeline to Earth in 2002 -- yet he states that the impact of the Xindi attack on earth (which led to the Xindi excursion to 2002 but is not recorded in Earth history in Daniels' timeline) has not yet been felt in Daniels' time. Huh? Does this not seem completely contradictory to you?
Time travel stories are, by their very nature, filled with just these kinds of problems. And B&B do not appear to possess the creative talent (or, if they have the creative talent, then the time and energy) required to overcome them.
2.23.2016
Episode 62: Similitude
Two in a row. Manny Coto's "Similitude" joins "North Star" to make a remarkable string of two strong Enterprise episodes in a row.
Sure, it starts with the obligatory Vulcan neuro-pressure scene involving a scantily clad T'Pol and the good-ol'-boy Tucker but, for once, that scene actually turns out to be somewhat integral to the plot.
And sure, it features (yet again) the now hackneyed frame narrative structure that is intended to create tension but, instead, tends to detract from it. In the teaser, we witness a funereal oration by Captain Archer in relation to a dead crew member who we are led to believe is the aforementioned Mr. Tucker. Sure, the teaser leaves us wondering which Mr. Tucker is actually dead but it certainly gives us ample grounds to believe that Enterprise will survive the peril into which it is placed during the episode.
But what I found really powerful about "Similitude" is the episode's willingness to take the time to discuss in reasonable depth the moral and ethical implications of the decision to create a sacrificial being who will be put to death simply so that its cells can be harvested to save Tucker's life.
However you might react to the discussion and the positions/decisions various crew members take, you can't help but be engrossed in the story. Coto even manages to weave a little bit of action into the plot to keep things moving but it is the more philosophical aspects of the story that make the episode worth watching.
It is also interesting how Coto manages to incorporate the Xindi threat quite organically into the story without making it dominate the show. We are not permitted to forget that Archer's stance on the sacrifice of the clone-like alt-Tucker being called Sim is based on his unflinching commitment to do whatever is necessary to save the human race from the Xindi. Yet, the Xindi, always in the background, are not a constant subject of discussion.
I watched this episode without even once looking at the time counter on my DVD player, which is rare. Between the excellent writing, the strong performances and some interesting direction (courtesy of LeVar Burton, the episode works on many levels. And, as Coto himself points out on his DVD commentary, the musical score also makes a wonderful contribution to the effectiveness of "Similitude".
I can't say I'm delighted with the Tucker/Sim - T'Pol romance story that plays out in the episode, however. Just two episodes ago, we were informed that T'Pol may be in love with her Captain and be willing to serve as his nursemaid for his declining years. This time, we are told that Tucker is in love with T'Pol and that she, at the very least, doesn't entirely resent his affections.
In order to make this work, I will tell myself that T'Pol's decision to kiss Sim in the penultimate scene is driven by her developing capacity to sense and address the emotional needs of her crew mates rather than her reciprocal feelings of love for Tucker. At least this subplot gives us some reason for the neuro-pressure silliness of the early scenes.
My question: do we have any proof that it is actually Sim, and not Tucker himself, in the casket? I believe that the episode leaves it open for the possibility that Sim survives the procedure but Tucker does not... or that both died in the process.
Because I can't leave one of these entries without a nitpick or two: why don't the two shuttle pods start to attract the magnetic bits of metal that are threatening to sink Enterprise as soon as they emerge from the shuttle bay? And why do the bits of metal detach themselves from Enterprise as soon as it leaves the cloud -- is their magnetism created by the cloud, rather than inherent in the bits themselves? This is not explained.
And, how does Sim manage to share Tucker's memories (and his accent)? This would not happen with a normal clone. I know, many many Trek fans brought this up after the show was aired but you still have to wonder. As Coto says in his commentary, this would have been an easy fix: just mention that the process isn't really cloning and will permit memories to be retained.
Sure, it starts with the obligatory Vulcan neuro-pressure scene involving a scantily clad T'Pol and the good-ol'-boy Tucker but, for once, that scene actually turns out to be somewhat integral to the plot.
And sure, it features (yet again) the now hackneyed frame narrative structure that is intended to create tension but, instead, tends to detract from it. In the teaser, we witness a funereal oration by Captain Archer in relation to a dead crew member who we are led to believe is the aforementioned Mr. Tucker. Sure, the teaser leaves us wondering which Mr. Tucker is actually dead but it certainly gives us ample grounds to believe that Enterprise will survive the peril into which it is placed during the episode.
But what I found really powerful about "Similitude" is the episode's willingness to take the time to discuss in reasonable depth the moral and ethical implications of the decision to create a sacrificial being who will be put to death simply so that its cells can be harvested to save Tucker's life.
However you might react to the discussion and the positions/decisions various crew members take, you can't help but be engrossed in the story. Coto even manages to weave a little bit of action into the plot to keep things moving but it is the more philosophical aspects of the story that make the episode worth watching.
It is also interesting how Coto manages to incorporate the Xindi threat quite organically into the story without making it dominate the show. We are not permitted to forget that Archer's stance on the sacrifice of the clone-like alt-Tucker being called Sim is based on his unflinching commitment to do whatever is necessary to save the human race from the Xindi. Yet, the Xindi, always in the background, are not a constant subject of discussion.
I watched this episode without even once looking at the time counter on my DVD player, which is rare. Between the excellent writing, the strong performances and some interesting direction (courtesy of LeVar Burton, the episode works on many levels. And, as Coto himself points out on his DVD commentary, the musical score also makes a wonderful contribution to the effectiveness of "Similitude".
I can't say I'm delighted with the Tucker/Sim - T'Pol romance story that plays out in the episode, however. Just two episodes ago, we were informed that T'Pol may be in love with her Captain and be willing to serve as his nursemaid for his declining years. This time, we are told that Tucker is in love with T'Pol and that she, at the very least, doesn't entirely resent his affections.
In order to make this work, I will tell myself that T'Pol's decision to kiss Sim in the penultimate scene is driven by her developing capacity to sense and address the emotional needs of her crew mates rather than her reciprocal feelings of love for Tucker. At least this subplot gives us some reason for the neuro-pressure silliness of the early scenes.
My question: do we have any proof that it is actually Sim, and not Tucker himself, in the casket? I believe that the episode leaves it open for the possibility that Sim survives the procedure but Tucker does not... or that both died in the process.
Because I can't leave one of these entries without a nitpick or two: why don't the two shuttle pods start to attract the magnetic bits of metal that are threatening to sink Enterprise as soon as they emerge from the shuttle bay? And why do the bits of metal detach themselves from Enterprise as soon as it leaves the cloud -- is their magnetism created by the cloud, rather than inherent in the bits themselves? This is not explained.
And, how does Sim manage to share Tucker's memories (and his accent)? This would not happen with a normal clone. I know, many many Trek fans brought this up after the show was aired but you still have to wonder. As Coto says in his commentary, this would have been an easy fix: just mention that the process isn't really cloning and will permit memories to be retained.
2.21.2016
Episode 61: North Star
I actually said "Oh yuck" when I saw that "North Star" had a Western theme.
I'm not a fan of the lengths that some of the Star Trek series have gone to justify sending their crews into Earth's past (or some representation of Earth's past).
TOS did some of the best of these episodes, however, offering several justifications:
Fortunately, I was wrong. David A. Goodman has penned a strong episode and director David Straiton does a great job bringing it to life.
Enterprise discovers a planet with a tiny population of humans, still living a 19th-Century Wild West lifestyle. When they investigate, however, they discover that the 6,000 humans are descendants of a group kidnapped from 19th-Century America as slave labour by a race called Scagarans, who transport them into the Delphic Expanse to help develop the planet. The humans eventually overthrew the small contingent of Scagaran slave-masters and took over the planet. Problem is, the humans have never learned to forgive their former masters and treat the small population of remaining Scagarans like second-class citizens.
It's a well-paced, intense story with some excellent moments. It even includes a very believable scene where Archer and his crew get the chance to land a shuttlepod in the middle of a primitive community and present themselves as near-gods, something I understand many of the earlier Star Trek crews wish they had been allowed to do.
Sure, it's somewhat unbelievable that the human community would not have developed at all in the 200+ years, even despite their well-justified distrust of technology. Human nature what it is, we would have expected that they would have made some progress, at least in taming the world upon which they found themselves and, perhaps, in terms of transport and weaponry.
That being said, if you accept that it is a stagnant, wild-west community, the episode works in many ways.
I'm not sure I buy that Archer could take a shot gun blast to the shoulder and still win a fist-fight with the bad guy but I really do like the fact that Reid, without hesitation and with just a shrug, would choose to rescue T'Pol from a bad-guy's gun by shooting her.
And I like the fact that it is a female army dude who proves most effective in the inevitable gun fight at the episode's climax.
The DVD collection includes a Commentary by First Assistant Producer, Michael DeMerrit, which is excellent. Find it and listen to it. It's great.
The episode is intended as an investigation into the moral and philosophical implications of a history of slavery. I think it is pretty clear that it is meant to consider America's slave history. In this case, however, the slave race overcame the slave masters and subjugated them instead.
I have to wonder, however, how effective the episode was or even what its intended message is. It seems to me that at least one of the messages of "North Star" is that a formerly enslaved race should just "get over it" and move on. That might be true in a situation where the enslaved overthrew the enslavers but I'm not sure it went over well with the African American community in the 21st Century U.S.
In fact, if that is the message, it is remarkably offensive.
I'm not a fan of the lengths that some of the Star Trek series have gone to justify sending their crews into Earth's past (or some representation of Earth's past).
TOS did some of the best of these episodes, however, offering several justifications:
- "Patterns of Force", in which a planet that, as a result of contamination, has taken on a Nazi-like society;
- "A Piece of the Action", in which a planet that, as a result of contamination, has taken on the gang-land society of Chicago of the 1920s;
- "Tomorrow is Yesterday", a time-travel episode that takes Enterprise (accidentally) back in time to the 1960s;
- "Assignment: Earth", another time-travel episode that takes Enterprise (on purpose) back in time to the 1960s;
- "City on the Edge of Forever", a third time-travel episode that introduces us to the Guardian of Forever and sends members of the crew back to the 1940s;
- "Bread and Circuses", a parallel development episode in which the crew discovers a planet where Rome never fell; and
- "Spectre of the Gun", the original Star Trek western, in which an uber-powerful race re-creates the O.K. Corral as a punishment for Kirk's decision to ignore a warning.
Fortunately, I was wrong. David A. Goodman has penned a strong episode and director David Straiton does a great job bringing it to life.
Enterprise discovers a planet with a tiny population of humans, still living a 19th-Century Wild West lifestyle. When they investigate, however, they discover that the 6,000 humans are descendants of a group kidnapped from 19th-Century America as slave labour by a race called Scagarans, who transport them into the Delphic Expanse to help develop the planet. The humans eventually overthrew the small contingent of Scagaran slave-masters and took over the planet. Problem is, the humans have never learned to forgive their former masters and treat the small population of remaining Scagarans like second-class citizens.
It's a well-paced, intense story with some excellent moments. It even includes a very believable scene where Archer and his crew get the chance to land a shuttlepod in the middle of a primitive community and present themselves as near-gods, something I understand many of the earlier Star Trek crews wish they had been allowed to do.
Sure, it's somewhat unbelievable that the human community would not have developed at all in the 200+ years, even despite their well-justified distrust of technology. Human nature what it is, we would have expected that they would have made some progress, at least in taming the world upon which they found themselves and, perhaps, in terms of transport and weaponry.
That being said, if you accept that it is a stagnant, wild-west community, the episode works in many ways.
I'm not sure I buy that Archer could take a shot gun blast to the shoulder and still win a fist-fight with the bad guy but I really do like the fact that Reid, without hesitation and with just a shrug, would choose to rescue T'Pol from a bad-guy's gun by shooting her.
And I like the fact that it is a female army dude who proves most effective in the inevitable gun fight at the episode's climax.
The DVD collection includes a Commentary by First Assistant Producer, Michael DeMerrit, which is excellent. Find it and listen to it. It's great.
The episode is intended as an investigation into the moral and philosophical implications of a history of slavery. I think it is pretty clear that it is meant to consider America's slave history. In this case, however, the slave race overcame the slave masters and subjugated them instead.
I have to wonder, however, how effective the episode was or even what its intended message is. It seems to me that at least one of the messages of "North Star" is that a formerly enslaved race should just "get over it" and move on. That might be true in a situation where the enslaved overthrew the enslavers but I'm not sure it went over well with the African American community in the 21st Century U.S.
In fact, if that is the message, it is remarkably offensive.
Episode 60: Twilight
When a group of Vampires invades the ship, chased by a pack of werewolves...
Oh, sorry, wrong "Twilight".
I really enjoyed the Enterprise version of "Twilight", an episode written by our old friend Mike Sussman. I enjoyed it because it was a fun ride,with a pretty cool space battle at the end.
But, once I had a chance to reflect on it, I really started to wonder just how many more mistakes the Enterprise creative team could make.
"Twilight" is one of those here's-how-it-might-turn-out stories that Star Trek is so fond of delivering. In the Enterprise version, we get to skip forward to a future that involves ultimate Xindi success and the final extermination of the human race.
The first scene involves Archer caught in his quarters as Enterprise comes under attack. When Archer tries to get to the bridge, however, he finds that he has lost command of the ship to T'Pol and, worse, that Enterprise is engaged in a desperate battle to fight past two Xindi ships in hopes of getting to the massive Xindi weapon before it opens fire on Earth.
Enterprise loses the battle, the Xindi weapon blows Earth to bits and the credits roll...
We are then treated to another frame narrative wherein a domesticated T'Pol explains to a suddenly middle-aged Archer how the Xindi came to win the war and all-but wipe the human race from the face of the galaxy.
And it all turns out to be because Archer lost his ability to remember stuff just as their mission into the Delphic Expanse came to a head, resulting in T'Pol taking over command of Enterprise and failing miserably in their mission.
The lesson is simple: only Archer can save the day. Without him at full capacity, the human race is a lost cause.
This is a classic trope of the Hollywood entertainment industry: no matter how powerful the enemy, a single man is always the difference between success and failure for the forces of good.
Just think of all of those Rambo, Terminator and Die Hard movies. It's always one man, one lone man who defies all odds to save the day.
So in "Twilight", we learn that the lone man of our tale of woe is Jonathan Archer. Without him, functioning at full capacity, earth is doomed.
The combined efforts of T'Pol, Tucker, Reid, Sato, Mayweather, the rest of the Enterprise crew, the Vulcans, the plethora of other friendly races aren't enough. It's got to be Archer.
And, better yet, we find that T'Pol's destiny in this alternative time line is to be nurse maid to Archer. For the rest of his life.
The mystery is the reason for that loyalty: is it just loyalty? is it to repay the debt of his sacrificing his safety for hers, as she claims? is it love, as everyone else seems to believe.
The "cult of Archer" has been growing throughout the course of the first two and half seasons of Enterprise and it comes to a head in this episode. We learn very clearly that Earth's only hope is Jonathan Archer.
While "Twilight" is a very effective episode in and of itself -- well written, strongly acted, well-plotted, suspenseful -- what it represents for the overall story of Enterprise is highly problematic.
This deification of Jonathan Archer (and its related subjugation of T'Pol into a "traditional" female role) represents an extension of what happened in earlier Star Trek series with respect to Kirk and Picard in particular, Sisko and Janeway to a lesser extent.But it's taken to a whole other level in the new B&B world of Star Trek.
Jonathan Archer is being presented as a god. And Jonathan Archer is certainly no god.
On smaller points, I wonder that, in this alternative time line, no friendly race intervenes to protect Earth and the human race as the Xindi wander the galaxy, hunting down Earth colonies and survivors. The Xindi are presented as being at a technological level somewhere between the humans and the Vulcans. Why would none of the aliens the humans have attracted not help them?
I am also amazed at the incredibly flawed logic the Vulcans employ in concluding that it was the humans' decision to proceed with the Warp 5 program that led to the Xindi war. Yea, no. The cause of that is 400 years in the future. The Vulcans know that.
And what is this about all these Enterprise crew members who receive promotions after the human race is all but exterminated. We are told that there are only 6,000 people left. How is it that Star Fleet still exists? I know there are still ships and defence of the realm is still important. But why retain the very formal stuff?
I have to think that the very powerful scene of the Xindi weapon destroying Earth had an impact on J.J. Abrams' later destruction of Vulcan in his first reboot movie. And didn't only 6,000 Vulcans survive that attack as well? 6,000 is the magical survival number, apparently.
Oh, sorry, wrong "Twilight".
I really enjoyed the Enterprise version of "Twilight", an episode written by our old friend Mike Sussman. I enjoyed it because it was a fun ride,with a pretty cool space battle at the end.
But, once I had a chance to reflect on it, I really started to wonder just how many more mistakes the Enterprise creative team could make.
"Twilight" is one of those here's-how-it-might-turn-out stories that Star Trek is so fond of delivering. In the Enterprise version, we get to skip forward to a future that involves ultimate Xindi success and the final extermination of the human race.
The first scene involves Archer caught in his quarters as Enterprise comes under attack. When Archer tries to get to the bridge, however, he finds that he has lost command of the ship to T'Pol and, worse, that Enterprise is engaged in a desperate battle to fight past two Xindi ships in hopes of getting to the massive Xindi weapon before it opens fire on Earth.
Enterprise loses the battle, the Xindi weapon blows Earth to bits and the credits roll...
We are then treated to another frame narrative wherein a domesticated T'Pol explains to a suddenly middle-aged Archer how the Xindi came to win the war and all-but wipe the human race from the face of the galaxy.
And it all turns out to be because Archer lost his ability to remember stuff just as their mission into the Delphic Expanse came to a head, resulting in T'Pol taking over command of Enterprise and failing miserably in their mission.
The lesson is simple: only Archer can save the day. Without him at full capacity, the human race is a lost cause.
This is a classic trope of the Hollywood entertainment industry: no matter how powerful the enemy, a single man is always the difference between success and failure for the forces of good.
Just think of all of those Rambo, Terminator and Die Hard movies. It's always one man, one lone man who defies all odds to save the day.
So in "Twilight", we learn that the lone man of our tale of woe is Jonathan Archer. Without him, functioning at full capacity, earth is doomed.
The combined efforts of T'Pol, Tucker, Reid, Sato, Mayweather, the rest of the Enterprise crew, the Vulcans, the plethora of other friendly races aren't enough. It's got to be Archer.
And, better yet, we find that T'Pol's destiny in this alternative time line is to be nurse maid to Archer. For the rest of his life.
The mystery is the reason for that loyalty: is it just loyalty? is it to repay the debt of his sacrificing his safety for hers, as she claims? is it love, as everyone else seems to believe.
The "cult of Archer" has been growing throughout the course of the first two and half seasons of Enterprise and it comes to a head in this episode. We learn very clearly that Earth's only hope is Jonathan Archer.
While "Twilight" is a very effective episode in and of itself -- well written, strongly acted, well-plotted, suspenseful -- what it represents for the overall story of Enterprise is highly problematic.
This deification of Jonathan Archer (and its related subjugation of T'Pol into a "traditional" female role) represents an extension of what happened in earlier Star Trek series with respect to Kirk and Picard in particular, Sisko and Janeway to a lesser extent.But it's taken to a whole other level in the new B&B world of Star Trek.
Jonathan Archer is being presented as a god. And Jonathan Archer is certainly no god.
On smaller points, I wonder that, in this alternative time line, no friendly race intervenes to protect Earth and the human race as the Xindi wander the galaxy, hunting down Earth colonies and survivors. The Xindi are presented as being at a technological level somewhere between the humans and the Vulcans. Why would none of the aliens the humans have attracted not help them?
I am also amazed at the incredibly flawed logic the Vulcans employ in concluding that it was the humans' decision to proceed with the Warp 5 program that led to the Xindi war. Yea, no. The cause of that is 400 years in the future. The Vulcans know that.
And what is this about all these Enterprise crew members who receive promotions after the human race is all but exterminated. We are told that there are only 6,000 people left. How is it that Star Fleet still exists? I know there are still ships and defence of the realm is still important. But why retain the very formal stuff?
I have to think that the very powerful scene of the Xindi weapon destroying Earth had an impact on J.J. Abrams' later destruction of Vulcan in his first reboot movie. And didn't only 6,000 Vulcans survive that attack as well? 6,000 is the magical survival number, apparently.
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