One of the first lessons I ever learned about scriptwriting, from a well-known writer for television, was the basic structure of an episodic script. In general, there should be at least two main plot arcs that are addressed in a given episode. One, the “A” plot, will be the main focus of the episode, whereas the “B” plot has varying levels of importance depending on the importance of the events described. Other subplots can also be involved, but that gets even more complicated. The best episodes, then, take the “A” and “B” plots and bring them together by the end, or alternatively, draw a parallel between the two separate arcs that reveal thematic or symbolic interconnections.
When applying this basic structure to the genre of science fiction, it can complicate matters. While the same general guidelines apply, there is also the added burden of maintaining a realistic scientific basis for the plots that are being offered. Different franchises approach this requirement with more or less care, and sometimes it is a matter of taking the realistic expectations of a television budget and applying those equations against the desire for a viable “future vision”. “Star Trek”, historically, has introduced a number of dramatically convenient devices and conceptions, often supported with the requisite “technobabble”. Most of the time, this is easy to overlook, if the episodes are well written and the character arcs are compelling. This is where “The Next Generation” and “Deep Space Nine” largely succeeded , and where “Voyager” largely failed.
I bring all of this up because I know that my disappointment with this episode runs counter to the general feelings of most fans of “Enterprise”, and I think much of it has to do with the weakness of the writing structure and the failings of the science added to the episode in what appears to be an attempt at “flavor”. Regardless, there are failures here, and what I feel is an over-reliance on the typical “Star Trek” themes.
There is very little plot to describe. The Enterprise comes across what it termed a “rogue planet”, essentially a planet-sized celestial body that is independent of a star, floating on its merry way through interstellar space. Upon inspection, they realize that there is life in many areas on the surface, and in one area in particular, a visiting ship. Curious as usual, Archer decides to go down with a landing party and meet the other tourists.
The tourists are a hunting party from a people called the Eska. For hundreds of years, the Eska have hunted down game on the rogue planet, something they consider to be highly dangerous and therefore worthwhile. After some small debate over the right to kill game, Archer allows Reed to join the raindeer games. While sleeping in the camp overnight, Archer hears a woman calling his name, and he sees the woman in a deep part of the forest. The woman wants his help, because her life is in danger.
At this point, about 1/3 of the way through the episode, it is glaringly obvious that the woman is an illusion, a telepathic vision created by the species being hunted by the Eska. For the rest of the hour, it is literally an exercise in letting this set of circumstances play out. The crew of the Enterprise finds it rather objectionable to hunt down a sentient species, but the Eska do not believe that the telepathic illusions are simply an instinctive response, not a deliberate and therefore intelligent act. The final solution is admirably non-violent in nature, essentially a leveling of the playing field to make it more difficult for the Eska to hunt down these “wraiths”.
As nice and straightforward as this is, it practically screams for some kind of “B” plot. Even a philosophical debate to counterpoint the main action would have sufficed. As it is, the debate over hunting in general is confined to a few short lines of dialogue, and the episode focuses all of its time on the step-by-step progression of Archer’s situation. Even when the plot turns towards exploring Archer’s reasons for seeing this woman in particular, the entire psychology of it is dealt with in one scene. It’s a good scene and a good plot thread, but it’s not really enough to qualify as a complementary “B” plot to the action with the Eska.
It may seem like I’m caught up on mechanics here, focusing on rules over content, but it’s the easiest way to explain what is missing from this episode. And when you get to the content, there are other problems. There is literally no reason for this episode to take place on a “rogue planet”, other than to ensure that the setting is always dark. This could have been on any old planet and everything would have been exactly the same…just without the incredibly bad science.
Now granted, this is a franchise where we have about 183 alternate Earths hanging around the galaxy, a barrier surrounding both the galactic core *and* the galaxy itself, coordinate systems that exceed 360 degrees, species interbreeding like bunnies, and last but not least, transporters. So it really takes something waaaay off the mark to annoy me when it comes to the science. Unfortunately, Berman and Braga opened this little door by attempting to make things sound realistic.
First of all, interstellar space is cold. Really cold. Even a small planet, let alone one the size of Earth, has to be damned close to a star for the atmosphere to be even remotely warm enough to support liquid water and therefore the familiar kinds of organic life. Now, to get around that, the writers cleverly claim that the internal heat generated by the planet’s core is enough to support the life on the surface. But that doesn’t make any sense from a physical point of view. The amount of heat necessary to maintain a temperature atmosphere for hundreds of thousands of years (the absolute minimum time for life to at least adapt to whatever made the planet go rogue) could never be generated by a planetary core. Even if we grant that it could be enough, the heat would be unevenly distributed and therefore would spike in certain areas.
The writers claim that the life evolved much like the life surrounding thermal vents in the deep oceans, but if that’s the case, who would the flora and fauna resemble life that evolved on Earth? Life evolved on this planet based on the energy provided by the sun, not simply the atmospheric temperature. The structure of the atmosphere itself, in terms of protective and heat-insulating layers, is dependent on interactions with stellar radiation and particle shedding. Plant life near the thermal vents does not incorporate chlorophyll like the plants on the Earth’s surface because chlorophyll is required for the plant life cycle, which is itself dependent on the energy provided by sunlight.
So why, then, does the plant life on this rogue planet resemble terrestrial rain forests? And for that matter, consider that the plant life depicted still appears to have root structure. If the heat required to create rain, and therefore the humidity necessary to maintain a rain forest-type climate, comes from within the planetary core, that would seem to suggest that the water on the planet would evaporate from the soil. The situation would be very similar to the climate on Europa, where if there is plant life, it is confined to the thermally warmer areas under the ice shell that has formed over the water that is forced to the surface by the interior heat. And keep in mind that Europa has the necessary thermal stress to generate that heat because of gravitational tidal forces. A planet isolated from high gravity bodies would not have those tidal reactions.
If the plant life is extremely questionable, simply based on the lack of a sun and the severe modifications to the water cycle necessitated by using the planet’s core as a heat source, then the animal life is equally unrealistic. The plant life would have to be much less complex and therefore not as efficient in terms of generating an atmosphere viable for terrestrial animal life. If we are to go by this episode’s evidence, the planet was maintaining an atmosphere roughly equivalent to Earth’s, in terms of the gaseous composition. Copious plant life and an active water cycle, not to mention solar reactivity with gaseous chemistry in the upper atmosphere, is required to maintain the terrestrial air composition. A rogue planet would be unable to support that composition, as it takes specific conditions for them to occur. Doubt it? Look at Venus and Mars. Roughly the same size, but the slight differences in temperature make all the difference.
Not only has this planet evolved plant and animal life, but the highest life form on the planet is a shape-shifting sentient with advanced telepathic abilities. To be sure, this kind of life would be perfectly suited to a planet where adaptability is key to survival. In fact, every form of life on the planet ought to have that kind of mutable nature, especially considering the variable nature of the heat from the planetary core. So placing that within the context of life that doesn’t match the basic scientific concept is jarring.
Still, that kind of life could have provided for an interesting exploration of what constitutes “immoral” hunting or consumption. For instance, what do the “wraiths” eat for food? Do they eat meat or otherwise consume other life? Where do they draw the line, and what is the current trend among humans at the time? We see Archer and the others eating meat all of the time, and so that could have opened all kinds of interesting and thoughtful doors. None of that happened.
When the plot did begin playing out, there was an odd disparity between how the “wraiths” fought, and the behavior described by the Eska. Supposedly, the Eska were able to hunt down the “wraiths” because once cornered, the “wraiths” would become so terrified that they would emit a chemical that could be easily detected. How does that make any sense, especially in light of the ambush that the “wraiths” supposedly used to kill off Eska hunters in the past? A shape-shifting organism, especially one able to establish a telepathic link with the rest of its kind, ought not be frightened by hunters that they have encountered countless times over hundreds of years.
All of these details wound up detracting from the episode from the very beginning, and rather than provide more than enough interesting material to counter that effect, the episode was predictable and almost painfully thin. As with many of the more disappointing episodes of this series to date, this is a plot that could have been used for any “Star Trek” franchise over the years, regardless of premise, and the strongest episodes of this series have dealt with the particular circumstances of this time period. For me, that rendered the episode bland, and mixed with the bad science, one of the worst of the series.
What gives this episode a bit of credit is the character interaction. Reed’s desire to join the hunt fits his character, as does T’Pol’s general distaste over the entire situation. The exploration of Archer’s motivations was welcome, even if it wasn’t deep enough to have lasting meaning. It was nice to see Hoshi taking on a field assignment with relative ease as well, though that might have been a momentary flaw in the writing.
Some other thoughts:
- Why did it take three people to write this episode? If it were extremely complex or multi-layered, I could understand it, but an episode as straightforward as this doesn’t need three writers.
- Mayweather was barely in this episode, and basically just spouted off bad science…continuing his trend of being the least useful character.
- Keith Szarabajka, the actor who played the leader of the Eska hunting party, has been a busy man lately. He’s been a major part of this season’s arc on “Angel” as Holtz. He added a wonderful touch to this role.
- On the other hand, Eric Pierpoint was completely wasted. What’s the point of casting a well-established genre actor, if you’re not going to use him?
- Personal cloaking technology is quite a bit more advanced than what was around even during the time of “TNG”…so that was also a bit questionable.
- If the heat is generated by the planet’s core, why would you need to build a fire for warmth?
- Wouldn’t the differences in heat generation through the ground also result in quick and unpredictable weather patterns? Think in terms of air displacement due to heat convection, at the very least!
- I’m thankful that this didn’t turn into some pseudo-“Most Dangerous Game” episode, like every time the Hirogen came along on “Voyager”…
- Archer was awfully calm for someone seeing a half-naked woman on the surface of an alien planet.
- Loved T’Pol’s not-so-subtle suggestion that she “babysit” Archer until he agreed to leave the planet!
- Was it just me, or did the animals in the Eska tactical display look like they were filmed in stop-action animation, like “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Raindeer”?
- That’s what kind of fantasy Archer had as a kid?
- Why would the “wraiths” only contact Archer? Wouldn’t the other crew members have been equally useful, especially since a telepath would be able to tell that Archer’s sanity was being questioned?
- For that matter, why didn’t T’Pol notice the telepathic presence on the planet? An interesting thought could be that her mental shielding is much thicker as a response to her experiences in “Fusion”.
- I didn’t really like Bakula’s delivery of the verse during his conversation with Trip. It just didn’t feel as meaningful as the writers obviously intended it to be.
- I was expecting the Eska to confront Archer a little more strongly, especially since Archer was less than subtle about having leveled the playing field.
- The final scene between the “wraith” and Archer was another scene that appeared to want to have more meaning, but just didn’t carry it off. I think that was mostly directing issues, though.
Overall, while there were some good scenes and nice character moments in this episode, the thin plotting and scientific blunders made this episode personally difficult to enjoy. If I had been able to ignore those problems, I might have enjoyed the episode better. But even so, it felt like something that could have been done on “Voyager” with equal ease, and that never ranks high in my book.
