the m0vie blog

Next year, Star Trek is fifty years old. We have some special stuff planned for that, but – in the meantime – we’re reviewing all of Star Trek: Enterprise this year as something of a prequel to that anniversary. This January, we’re doing the first season. Check back daily for the latest review.

Re-watching a television show with the benefit hindsight is a particularly intriguing experience. Knowing that certain plot lines or character threads will or won’t pay off can be a liberating experience. While a disappointing ending to a particular story can undermine a lot of what came before, foreknowledge of the inevitable anticlimax allows the viewer to manage their expectations and temper their enthusiasm. It stops the viewer from getting too involved with threads that lead to dead ends, and heightens appreciations for those that pay dividends.

The Temporal Cold War plot on Star Trek: Enterprise never went anywhere. This is rather obvious in hindsight, given that it has been a decade since the end of the show. However, it’s worth acknowledging that many viewers correctly predicted as much on the initial airing of Broken Bow in late 2001. None of the questions raised will be answered, none of the plot threads will be resolved. It will just sit there, nestled snugly in the heart of this Star Trek spin-off, possibly embodying the show’s unfulfilled potential.

While the Temporal Cold War lacks a clear resolution, it does provide the impetus for some pretty good storytelling on its own terms. In many respects, the plot works best when it exists as a driving force in the background of an episode – rather than being pushed to the fore. This is probably why Cold Front and Shockwave, Part I work much better than episodes like Shockwave, Part II – episodes that use the Temporal Cold War as a jumping off point to character work and development, rather than an end of itself.

Shockwave, Part I is notable for ending the first season of Enterprise on a cliffhanger. This was the first time that the opening season of a Star Trek had show had closed on a cliffhanger. The other shows closed out their freshman season with open-ended stand-alone stories, with the last episodes in the first seasons of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: Voyager emphasising how far their cast had come. In contrast, Shockwave, Part I closes the first year of Enterprise on an honest to goodness “to be continued.” And a good one at that.

The decision to end the first season of Enterprise on a cliffhanger is an interesting one. On the one hand, it contributes to the sense that the show is quickly becoming “Star Trek as usual.” With Shockwave, Part I, it feels like the Star Trek franchise is just continuing a familiar pattern of season-ending cliffhangers that have been a feature of the franchise since The Best of Both World, Part I. There is a reason for that, of course. The climax of The Best of Both Worlds, Part I is one of the best Star Trek moments ever produced.

With the broadcast of Shockwave, Part I in mid-2002, it had been six years since a television season had closed without a Star Trek cliffhanger in one form or another. In the case of 1995, network and studio meddling played a key role. The open-ended closing scene of The Adversary from the third season of Deep Space Nine had been intended as a more dramatic stakes-changing cliffhanger; UPN’s decisions about the broadcast of the final episodes of Voyager‘s first season had upset Jeri Taylor and the other writers.

So ending on a cliffhanger feels like a continuation of the inevitable cycle of season-ending cliffhangers that began on Star Trek: The Next Generation and ran through Star Trek: Voyager. Coupled with the visit to Risa in Two Days and Two Nights and the casting of former Star Trek regulars like Ethan Phillips and Rene Auberjonois in episodes like Acquisition and Oasis, it’s easy to argue that the tail end of the first season of Enterprise seemed to be assembly-line Star Trek.

This summary isn’t entirely fair. The first season of Enterprise is more adventurous than most give it credit for, even if its more ambitious attributes seems to be tempered with a certain narrative conservatism. Inventive and strange episodes like Breaking the Ice or Dear Doctor or Shuttlepod One exist alongside generic Star Trek adventures like Civilisation or Rogue Planet or Sleeping Dogs or Vox Sola. However, it seems fair to concede that the show did seem a little fatigued as it reached the end of the season.

So perhaps the decision to end the first season of Enterprise on a cliffhanger reflects this sense of fatigue. After six years of season-ending cliffhangers on Voyager, it would likely provide a much more comfortable way of closing out the year. Trying to encapsulate and wrap up an entire year of television is hard work, and it’s worth noting that Enterprise is the first Star Trek show to produce a full twenty-six episode season since the first year of The Next Generation back in 1987.

However, there is another factor at play here. The times were changing. Star Trek: Voyager had been launched as the flagship of the United Paramount Network. While the first season could hardly be described as an unqualified ratings success, Voyager was the only show broadcast on UPN’s first night to get renewed for a second season. Star Trek had been one of the top performers on UPN, to the point where the network actively pressured producers Rick Berman and Brannon Braga to produce a new Star Trek show hot on the heels of Voyager.

Enterprise launched with a degree of self-confidence and certainty. In an interview with Linda Park early in the first season, veteran Star Trek journalist Ian Spelling noted:

No one can guarantee Enterprise will fly for seven years, as Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager did, but a Trek series remains as close to a sure thing as there is in latter-day Hollywood.

Scott Bakula boasted that the Enterprise cast were assured that they were going to be “the next movie franchise.” Of course, Enterprise would become the first live action Star Trek spin-off to last less than seven years.

Change was in the air. Rather dramatic change. In late 2001, it was announced that UPN would undergo a change in management. After years of financial failure, CBS President Les Moonves was brought in to stop the bleeding. He took over in January 2002, mid-way through the first season. Moonves would become something of an infamous figure in Star Trek fandom; he would eventually be directly responsible for the cancellation of Enterprise during the show’s fourth season.

This represented a changing for Enterprise. Up to this point, the Star Trek franchise had been allowed to do its own thing at Paramount in the best, with the studio and network trusting Rick Berman to manage the property in a responsible manner. There were exceptions of course, but Berman had generally been allowed a wide degree of latitude in how to run Star Trek. However, he quickly discovered that the new management was a lot more hands-on than they had been before.

In the Uncharted Territory documentary, Berman recalls this rather sharp change in management style:

There was a big change of administration. The new administration that came in had been told, “We leave these guys alone; they come in on budget and they do their thing.” They had an attitude, “You gotta be kidding. That’s not the way we work.” So we started getting notes. And there were some classics.

There are a wealth of stories and anecdotes (both hilarious and terrifying) about this phase of the franchise’s history.

In light of all these changes taking place behind the scenes, it should be noted that Berman first signaled his desire to wrap up the first season of Enterprise on a cliffhanger in an interview with The Star Trek Communicator in mid January 2002, shortly after that change in management. Given that the Temporal Cold War seems to exist as a metaphor for network interference with Enterprise, tying that cliffhanger to the Temporal Cold War makes a great deal of sense.

A season-ending cliffhanger is built on the assumption that there will be a following season – that there will be a resolution to that cliffhanger. It’s a way of trying to reassure the audience a show’ll be back. Indeed, the decision to end Zero Hour – the third season finalé of Enterprise – on a cliffhanger was massively controversial precisely because the threat of cancellation loomed large. There was a sense that the duo might have been taunting the network and the studio with the prospect of a dangling cliffhanger that might make the show harder to syndicate.

Shockwave, Part I plays like the Star Trek franchise is uncertain about its future for the first time in quite a while. Although it seems unlikely that anybody was openly talking about the prospect of cancellation at this stage of the game, it’s not too hard to imagine a few frightened whispers among the staffers. Star Trek was no longer the jewel in UPN’s crown, and the franchise no longer had the carte blanche it had previously enjoyed.

The show is nominally about the loss of three thousand lives in a horrific accident, but Shockwave, Part I never seems too concerned with the thousands of lives that are extinguished in the teaser. Instead, the episode is focused on the consequences of that accident. “The mission’s been cancelled,” Archer tells the crew at one point, adopting the language and terminology that feels more applicable to managing a network schedule than manned space flight. (He stops short of calling it “the program.”)

Archer even seems to acknowledge the repeated suggestion that it might be worth “resting” the Star Trek franchise to cope with “franchise fatigue.” Archer reflects, “From what the Admiral tells me, Ambassador Soval will use this to convince Starfleet that we need another ten or twenty years before we try this again.” It’s a line that seems particularly ironic in light of the fact that Star Trek itself was resting for less than five years before a highly successful reboot. (Or, er, relaunch, to preserve the metaphor.)

Admiral Forrest seems to get oddly sentimental for a supervising officer. Addressing Archer on a television screen, he remarks. “After all you’ve done, I would have hated to see this end.” After all, earlier episodes had painted Forrest as something of a fan, eagerly waiting on Earth for the latest transmission from the Enterprise. Archer responds, sincerely, “Thank you for believing in us, Admiral.”

The crew talk among themselves about where they plan to go from here. “Well, I did expect this posting would last a while longer,” Phlox reflects, as if aware of the contract that John Billingsley signed on joining the cast. “But I’m sure an equally adventurous opportunity will present itself.” Hoshi suspects she’ll be able to slot back into her own role, while Mayweather contemplates whether he’ll accept a less prestigious posting.

Of course, this isn’t something that was meant to happen. This is all down to time travelers meddling with the time stream – outside forces warping the narrative and messing with the flow of history. When Daniels tries to “fix” the time line, it’s telling that he brings Archer back before the pilot – the night directly before the opening scene of Broken Bow. He informs Archer that this is a place where the other factions in the Temporal Cold War cannot see him. Of course, because this is before Enterprise actually began.

In a way, this seems to be a piece of self-criticism. The only way to fix Enterprise would be to go back to the start and re-work it. After all, Rick Berman and Brannon Braga had originally conceived the first season as taking place on Earth during the development of the warp five engine, a prospect that the network had aggressively resisted. UPN insisted that the show dive to the familiar Star Trek tropes as quickly as possible.

In a bid to save the timeline, Daniels doesn’t just pull Archer back to before Enterpise began. He pulls Archer back into the original concept of the show. Archer receiving a late night call from Trip about the three inspection pods feels like it might have been an element of this alternate version of Enterprise, as Archer and his team scramble to get the ship off the ground – dealing with all manner of diplomatic and practical complications along the way.

It is worth noting that Daniels practically destroys the timeline by following the ill-advised instructions given by his superiors. Tinkering with the timeline in order to appease them, Daniels inadvertently wipes out an entire history of the future. “Then I was instructed to bring you here,” Daniels explains. “Someone was very mistaken.” In Shockwave, Part II, Archer explicitly describes it as a “utopia”, while Daniels mourns the loss of the Federation. This outside meddling effectively destroys Star Trek.

It is worth noting that Archer and Enterprise are doomed by their own blind trust in the people controlling Daniels. Archer is told that the Suliban will not follow him, so he engages in an attack on a Suliban ship. He is told that events will play out a particular way, only for things to go horribly wrong. Once again, Daniels’ mysterious superiors cause trouble with their meddling and their instructions.

However, the subplot involving the Suliban also reflects another meta-textual concern of Enterprise‘s first season. When Malcolm asks why the Suliban won’t simply hunt Enterprise down to recover the data, Archer replies, “Just like those old Bible movies, Malcolm. It wasn’t written.” Invoking the bible and knowledge of the future? It seems like Archer is discussing the Star Trek continuity – the “canon”, as it is affectionately (or not so affectionately) known.

In many ways, this typifies the problem with writing a prequel – the ending is already know. A prequel often finds itself written into a corner, struggling to find a way to tell an interesting story while still lining up perfectly with what came before. Enterprise has to meet a certain set of requirements imposed by the larger Star Trek canon, and the show could easily seem like it is colouring within the lines.

So here, Enterprise finds itself acknowledging this conflict between the need to tell its own stories and the need to adhere to what has already been written. It isn’t enough to say that something must happen because “it is written.” It’s a pretty crappy story if the Suliban don’t pursue Enterprise, allowing Archer and his crew to feel vindicated with a minimum of risk. It lowers the stakes, and undermines the credibility of the Suliban, making it all feel too easy.

Daniels and his superiors seem to represent more traditional approaches to Star Trek. In Cold Front, it was the rival faction that had to save the ship; suggesting that Daniels’ faction would have been content to see Enterprise destroyed early in its run. Here, they operate from assumptions based on the Star Trek canon. The Suliban are native (and unique) to Enterprise, so of course they cannot pose a credible risk. After all, if they were that important, they’d have been mentioned before, right?

The Temporal Cold War serves as an effective metaphor for the conflicts that ran through Enterprise – the changes forced on the show from the outside, the meddling of the network, the difficulty reconciling the show with the rest of the franchise. The Temporal Cold War serves as a way to address and explore those within the narrative – objects that don’t belong, that distort the story around themselves. So it’s only appropriate that it also provides a glimpse at another outside factor that significantly impacted the development of the show.

Broken Bow had been broadcast two weeks after the events of 9/11. “It was an extraordinary time and a terrible, devastating time,” Scott Bakula recalls. “We had guest stars come in who had lost friends in the tower. Everyone was affected on so many levels.” It was inevitable that 9/11 would affect Enterprise. This became most obvious during the third season, but the second half of the first season – from Shadows of P’Jem onwards – was heavily affected by the events of 9/11.

As such, it seems significant that Shockwave, Part I opens with the death of over three thousand people that were not meant to die. It is worth noting that the “three thousand” figure cited repeatedly in the episode (actually “three thousand six hundred”) would seem rather small for a major off-world colony, but is approximately the same as the number of people killed during the attacks. Similarly, 9/11 is evoked in the devastation wrought at the climax of the episode  – a devastated urban skyline populated with crumbling skyscrapers after an unspeakable horror.

The events of 9/11 changed America and global politics. It goes without saying that they also changed Enterprise. Here, it seems like the event not only warped the franchise’s past, but also distorted its future. The first half of the season had been a show enthusiastic and excited about exploration, while the show quickly became a bit more cynical and jaded. It is quite difficult to imagine what Enterprise would have looked like had 9/11 not occurred.

Although the Temporal Cold War doesn’t make any sense in the context of the show, it is fun to try to make various pieces fit together. As with Cold Front, there’s a weird sense of ambiguity to all the meddling here – a sense that the conflict isn’t necessarily being waged between forces that can be clearly labelled “good” and “evil.” It helps that we never really get a clear sense of what each faction wants, and that both are clouded in secrecy. The climax of Shockwave, Part I suggests that Daniels is just as much a blind unquestioning follower of these unseen forces as Silik is.

Sure, Archer seems to assume that Daniels is the good guy in all this. There is something a little unsettling about this. As with so much about Archer, it suggests an unsettling racist outlook – he seems to take Daniels at his word simply because he looks more human than Silik. In spite of this, the plot gives every indication that Daniels’ faction is either morally ambiguous or simply massively inept. In Cold Front, Daniels isn’t the one to save the ship. Here, his meddling breaks the timeline and leads to the capture of Enterprise and the torture of her crew.

Of course, it goes without saying that Silik is a thug. We got to see scenes of him torturing Klaag in Broken Bow. He will torture both T’Pol and Reed in Shockwave, Part II. However, Silik is just as capable of helping the crew – as seen in Cold Front or even Storm Front. He is a blunt instrument used by the mysterious “Future Guy.” Based on Rann’s suggestions about what to do when the Suliban lose contact with Future Guy in Shockwave, Part II, perhaps the Cabal is just trigger-happy.

We never get a proper read on Future Guy’s motivations. One can assume that he’s not a “good” guy, given he directed the murder of three thousand people, but he has also never accidentally destroyed the timeline. Here, his instructions are direct, but he doesn’t provide a justification. “Have your ships bring me Archer,” he directs. “Allow Enterprise to continue.” It’s worth noting that – as of Shockwave, Part II – the certain members of the Cabal seem to have interpreted that as “if Archer’s not there, torture the crew for a bit and maybe blow up the ship or something.”

We never get a sense of what Future Guy actually wants with Archer. Brannon Braga has boasted that they planned to reveal that Future Guy was Archer, but it’s not entirely clear that the production team had made that decision at this stage. (Or, in fact, before the show finished up.) Still, if Future Guy was Archer, it seems unlikely that he would kill his younger self. Indeed, had Silik successfully abducted Archer, it’s quite possible that the Temporal Cold War might actually have revealed some info and moved closer to a resolution.

(Then again, it’s entirely possible that Future Guy is just a generic bad guy. He does get to spout clichés like “you know what happened the last time you failed me” while cloaked entirely in shadow. The show stops just short of giving him an evil laugh and directing Silik to do his bidding while referring to him only as “foolish mortal.” Still, the complete lack of any development or exploration of his character creates all sort of nooks and crannies where interesting ideas might develop.)

Shockwave, Part I is a fascinating exploration of changing circumstances that had rocked the first year of Enterprise, structuring them into an exciting and fast-paced (and surprisingly thoughtful) story. It’s an episode that seems quite proud of the show’s potential, engaging with a number of the problems and questions that have haunted the season. It’s an episode that ends with the promise that – while things are uncertain – the future might yet be saved.

You might be interested in our other reviews of the first season of Star Trek: Enterprise:

• Broken Bow
• Fight or Flight
• Strange New World
• Unexpected
• Terra Nova
• The Andorian Incident
• Breaking the Ice
• Civilisation
• Fortunate Son
• Cold Front
• Silent Enemy
• Dear Doctor
• Sleeping Dogs
• Shadows of P’Jem
• Shuttlepod One
• Fusion
• Rogue Planet
• Acquisition
• Oasis
• Detained
• Vox Sola
• Fallen Hero
• Desert Crossing
• Two Days and Two Nights
• Shockwave, Part I

Filed under: Enterprise | Tagged: 9/11, Archer, Brannon Braga, cliffhanger, daniels, enterprise, future guy, les moonves, Network, Rick Berman, sept. 11, shockwave, shockwave part 1, star trek, star trek: enterprise, suliban, Temporal Cold War, terrorism, upn |