Hi Ho! It's been a while, so I thought I'd return in style, riding in on a magnificent hor...aarggh!
(Master Magician but woeful horseman, Sadistro is thrown flying by his horse and conducts this review flat on his back, attended by paramedics.)
EPISODE 09 – ‘NORTH STAR’
So, 'North Star' then. Whilst obviously a side story from the Xindi arc, this is nonetheless an important episode, because it helps to build up character and atmosphere for the season’s setting. Stories about pursuing the Xindi and those that deal intimately with our heroes are vital of course, but the atmosphere of the season required a steady stream of examples of just how awful a place The Expanse really is.
What makes the Delphic Expanse work is that it manages to be a miserable, hellish realm, whilst still being just believable enough that it has credibility as a real place in the Trek Universe. As the season progresses, the distortion waves periodically lift to show broken, dying civilisations, lost in hopeless paranoia, hatred and despair.
From the xenophobia and extermination programs in ‘Extinction’, the fanatical religious zealotry in ‘Chosen Realm’, the banishment of those deemed to be different in ‘Exile’ and the terrible exploitation and sheer wretchedness of existence at the mining colony in ‘The Xindi’, The Expanse is a classic ‘Vale of Tears’; filled with suffering and sadness.
‘North Star’ shows us that a grim fate awaits even humanity if they do not pay serious attention to their motives and character as a race, whilst here. As of ‘The Shipment’, the crew now have a promising lead on the Xindi weapon and it has become a question of when, not if, they will track it down. But what will they do when they find it?
If they allow themselves to give in to the easy ‘Us versus Them’ mentality that Reed and Hayes were sporting in the aforementioned episode, then it is likely they will end up like the citizens of North Star’s planet. They will join the inhabitants of The Expanse in their limbo-like existence, focusing on hatred and to coin a well known line from literature ‘Abandoning every hope’.
To show this, Goodman and Straiton create a harsh, drained world that suggests the inhabitants have been spiritually scoured. There is no life or colour to existence on this planet; no progress or hope for the future. All their energies are taken up with nurturing their hatred and sense of righteous persecution, because they simply have nothing else.
This is a planet that never grew up, therefore (hence the Pan references). The humans were abducted and taken from their planet (and so in effect orphaned), and the Skagerin are prevented from ever achieving true development as people. So in a sense, the planet’s inhabitants are all children, still playing at Cowboys and Indians, centuries after their arrival.
This obviously mirrors the Human and Xindi conflict, calling to attention how childish it is really. The arguments over who threw the first punch and who is in the right in the conflict, is just an extension of the arguments kids have over who’ll be the ‘heroic cowboy’ and who will be stuck playing ‘the injun’ (with all the simplifications that labelling one as good and the other bad brings).
David Goodman always includes strong warnings in his episodes that whilst it’s okay to have fun, people eventually need to grow up and take responsibility; see things as they really are.
The Wild West for instance, with its famous and popular imagery, was once championed as an example of freedom and macho values (John Wayne even going so far as to suggest his films should be shown in schools, so boys could see how to be ‘real’ men). The Western has since fallen out of favour in modern times however, as the values it extolled now clash with modern views of what is acceptable.
In a similar vein, the tale of Peter Pan may be enjoyable ‘Youthful innocence against corrupt adults’ fare, but such ‘Goodies against Baddies’ stuff is the kind of simplification that can lead people to construct dangerously unrealistic views of life (Nazi Germany being a good real world example of this).
As the Nazis would sing ‘Gott mitt ung’ (God is with Us), Goodman shows us through the insolent wild child and very Pan-like character of Bennings, that so long as you think you’re doing the right thing, you can justify the most atrocious acts. The opening scene for example is a mockery of Pan, where Bennings helps someone to fly – by hanging him.
But to stay true to this idea of not oversimplifying things, Goodman refuses to make it quite as easy as our heroes beating the mean old deputies/pirates etc. The humans have suffered greatly at the hands of the Skagarin and Bennings is a product of the hatred they have been brought up to depend on.
He and his ilk believe they are fighting the good fight, as you can see in the genuine anger in their faces when they try to goad Draysik. It’s also worth noting that Bennings (perhaps unconsciously) tries to justify his acts. He gives the Skagarin in the intro a chance for final words, offers Draysik the gun to make it seem he had a fair chance and doesn’t overstep his bounds when he arrests Archer and Bethany.
He’s certainly no saint and as impartial outsiders, we can recognise most of this as self delusion; the desire not to see yourself as evil or in the wrong. Yet it’s hard to deny the conviction in his voice when he resigns and his accusations towards Mack. He’s acting the only way he’s ever known to be right. And Archer does try to reach out later, because just pigeon holing him as evil is a mistake.
And Sherriff Macready too is a difficult figure to characterise as clearly in the wrong. Although ultimately responsible for allowing the various abuses to go on, it’s clear he is far from being fine with it. But he struggles to reconcile his distaste for the inhumane acts with what (in his view) has to be done. So he has to rely on self deceptions like a good wash and shave ‘to make you feel civilised’.
Goodman is therefore saying that the planet’s inhabitants are all Lost Boys to a certain extent.
Where such strong convictions are held, Goodman suggests the only reasonable way forward is for responsible adults to step in and show that whatever happened in the past, a life spent hating and persecuting is no way to live. There has to be (and indeed is) a better way. Thus Archer and co are needed to bring a message of hope in the midst of their mission of destruction.
The way in which the Wild West imagery is used is very clever. Because whenever you see people in the big hats, coats etc, especially in non period shows (i.e time travel, alternate dimension stuff), you automatically think this is just an excuse for the cast to play dress up and for the writer/director to tick off from a checklist of their favourite wild west stereotypes.
And although the harsh visuals and the rather sinister scene in the bar show there is definitely more edge to this episode than that, the first half of this episode is designed to show how dangerous it can be to buy into this kind of fantasy.
Because at first we get the shots of Archer in his extremely big hat, T’Pol with her standard ear covering attire, Trip being played for laughs again with the horse and his knowledge of westerns etc.
But look at where it gets them. By convincing themselves they need to wear the clothes, blend in, not disturb people etc, Archer and his crew end up making the situation very difficult indeed.
Because of their messing about, however well intentioned it was, Trip ends up giving a gun to a perfect stranger (representing the compromises they have to make to keep after the Xindi); Bethany is arrested when Archer is followed and is then shot because of Archer’s bungled jailbreak.
It’s like they are playing by the rules of the planet’s deadly Cowboys and Indians game. This is similar to how they and the Xindi are acting; treating each other like villains in some fantasy tale of good versus evil. But as is the case in this episode, it stops being a game when real guns are involved.
And this is the realisation that Archer comes to when Bethany is shot. As T’Pol is upbraiding him for using the transporter in front of people, he comes to see how absurdly they have been acting. She was hurt and dying – of course he used the Transporter! He wasn’t going to let the fact that it was ‘against the rules of the game’ stop him.
And therefore, he dispenses with the outfits and the pretence, resolving to do what he should have done in the first place (something that Macready later points out, too). They need to get down there and tell people what’s really going on. Hand wringing about how it could affect their development is ignoring the fact that they clearly aren’t developing – they need hope and they need it now.
Some may have been alarmed at Goodman’s extremely forthright way of doing things. Flying the shuttlecraft directly into town and emerging with an obviously alien woman and a full squad of heavily armed Marines etc is hardly the most subtle approach, after all.
But the way to look at it is that it’s time for the games to stop. A serious, adult presence is something this planet has been lacking, due to the orphaned nature of the populace etc. The people need hope and they need the truth, but they also need to see an authoritative presence if they are going to listen (as Bethany does with the Skagarin children for example).
We have to keep this idea of the planet being in need of a true parental figure in mind therefore. And it’s something Goodman often deals with. Children will get out of line (be it spoiled princesses, Klingon youths or vengeful humans), and parental figures need to show themselves to be worthy of respect.
It feeds into the idea that if you’re going to wear the badge, you have to do the job. No looking the other way and pretending it isn’t your problem, nor coming up with excuses not to act. Sherriff Macready has been doing that for years, even though you can see that he knows he is allowing grave injustice.
Yes, the Skagarin are hardly blameless as a race, but systematic racial persecution; legalised murder and brutality is just plain wrong and shrivels the soul and the heart. In this respect and particularly in his conversation with Betthany and Archer, Macready resembles a more humane Captain Hook figure. (Hook did speak with civility to Wendy Darling and occasionally conceded he was wrong and acting in ‘bad form.’)
And he does seem to acknowledge that their situation is far from perfect, as he apologises for what happened to the Skagarin who was hanged and his distaste when Bennings suggests they wipe the ‘Skags’ out. He knows Bennings is right that many would volunteer to help with that – he just isn’t proud of that fact, like his deputy is.
But he has convinced himself that he needs to overlook any objections he may have. This also recalls Hook in a way, who would use the excuse ‘I am a Gentleman, but also a pirate!’ to get around anything particularly awkward. And of course, Archer is making several such compromises to his views as he pursues the Xindi across the Expanse.
Like the rest of the inhabitants, Macready has lost his way therefore. So it is up to Archer and the crew to show that a life spent in endless hatred on this wretched world is not all there is. And in so doing, he affirms the spirit of the evolving human race, bringing a message of hope and meeting problems, instead of avoiding them. It also serves as a lesson to them of course, that they must not allow this to happen to them and the Xindi.
Goodman therefore believes in doing what needs to be done, regardless of how it looks or what stupid objections people may come up with. As I mentioned before however, such a heavy handed approach can see him steer into some questionable territory at times.
Seeing Archer shooting people when they are down, the crew using high tech weapons with sniper functions on Bennings’ men etc seems a little distasteful at first. It doesn’t seem very ‘fair’. But then that’s precisely what Goodman is going for – this isn’t a game. Heroic or not, you minimise risks to your people by taking what advantages you have.
Probably the best example of this is when Reed shoots T’Pol. It’s a provocative image to put up, where a hero is shooting a friend and any scene where a woman is shot is going to raise some eyebrows. But again, Goodman would argue that such talk is nonsense – lives are on the line and Reed takes the best and safest course of action to resolve it.
The hollow and misguided nature of this kind of ‘fairness’ and macho honour etc; is exploded early in the episode when Bennings offers the gun to Draysik. They were just looking for an excuse to kill him and wanted the cushion of feeling they were justified, with the farcical suggestion that he would have had a fair chance.
Goodman is keen to show that the old tricks where the heroes fight with fairness and openness and perform daring escapes on wagons etc are just fantasies that have little basis in reality. When Archer and Bethany try the classic jail break and ride out of town, it ends in disaster. Because such a gung-ho attitude will only get people killed, he warns
Post was a bit long, so i split it into 2 again. Right this way, right this way...
Phlox might be morally torn in both directions; perhaps he'd be the one who spells out the choices. T'Pol could (ironically) represent the one who believes utterly in the "logic" of curing Archer and resetting everything, because of her belief in Archer's ability to change the future (and perhaps her guilt). Vulcans on this show have shown quite a talent for pretzeling logic to suit their own interests.
