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You Talking Trek to Me? (Best of Voyager) – “Caretaker”

“Caretaker”
Star Trek: Voyager – Season 1, Episodes 1
& 2

Establishing a new series, even within the framework of a franchise as large and detailed as Star Trek, is still a challenging proposition. There’s a lot of continuity and backstory to lean on, but there’s still the matter of setting up a new premise, introducing a cast of characters, establishing the setting, and most importantly… making us care enough to tune in the following week. With all this in mind, the premiere episode of Star Trek: Voyager is an accomplished and well-executed pilot, and for my money it was the most confident, effective, and exciting first episode of a new Trek series to air.

“Caretaker,” – like Star Trek: Voyager itself – is not perfect, but it is a very watchable and epic adventure that introduces a series full of promise and potential. The episode deals with a mountain of material admirably – some of it previously established, and the rest all new. As a science fiction story it’s decent and hits some familiar satisfying beats. As an entry in Trek it also fits the bill and seems to slide into the larger property comfortably. In the context of the Star Trek franchise, it’s the most inter-connected pilot episode and draws heavily upon plot points introduced by the then-recently ended Next Generation and then-running Deep Space Nine series. There’s a lot to take in and it handles the backstory about as elegantly as one could hope while building an all-new adventure on top of it.

A little bit ago, in a galaxy… right here.

Case in point, it opens with a text crawl (as Deep Space Nine’s pilot did) giving some necessary info-dumping about who the Maquis are. Although their backstory had been created in TNG and further fleshed-out in DS9, the Maquis never quite jumped off the screen in an exciting way. Everybody loves a good renegade, but the political backstory of their origin was somewhat convoluted and dry, and their cause wasn’t that relatable or illustrated well. A few years after this aired the much-anticipated first Star Wars prequel would similarly cause a lot of audience head-scratching over its unnecessarily complicated and boring interstellar politics set-up (“alien C-SPAN” as many have amusingly – and accurately – described).

Fortunately, “Caretaker” doesn’t bog itself down in the particulars of the Maquis’ struggle for freedom/independence/Cardassian blood/whatever that much. Or at all, really. They’re outlaws, and that’s about all you need to know. It’s a fresh angle for Star Trek and gives the story a very welcome edge (much as the non-Starfleet cast of DS9’s characters did for that series). The stinger of the episode makes the daring choice of featuring only Chakotay and his crew (namely Torres and an undercover Tuvok) on the run from the Cardassians. But they soon have bigger fish to fry when a strange anomaly barrels towards them and sweeps them to the other side of the galaxy in the distant Delta Quadrant.

“I play by my own rules, I go to bed when I wanna go to bed!”

But these aren’t the only outlaws here! Enter Tom Paris – former Maquis (for a few weeks anyway), current Federation prisoner, hot shot pilot, Starfleet drop out, and handsome bad boy extraordinaire! Recruited out of a New Zealand prison colony by Captain Janeway of the newly-minted USS Voyager, Tom is a really crucial thematic component of the pilot. As a disgraced former officer and failed renegade, he’s a less than subtle signal that this isn’t your dad’s Star Trek, and his inclusion provides some good interpersonal dynamics all around. He’s mistrusted by the Starfleet crew, and as a captured rebel who’s agreed to help track down his former fellow renegades he’s hated by the Maquis, too. Along with some other casting choices, he helps give some flavor to the show.

“I’ll, uh, catch you on the way back? Should be a few days, tops..”

Deep Space Nine leveraged the gravitas of Patrick Stewart’s Captain Picard to help its pilot (even going so far as to intertwine his Borg days with Sisko’s backstory and make them practically enemies). Voyager uses the station of DS9 as a literal jumping off point to its adventure. It even has Quark to introduce us to fresh-faced Ensign Harry Kim in an amusing scene. It’s nutty, but it works in further placing Voyager among the mythos of Trek. He quickly forms a friendship with Tom that would be one of the central relationships of the series. The first Asian cast member since George Takei, Kim’s presence is some welcome diversity, and his role as the green junior officer would provide a lot of story mileage. Pairing him with the somewhat more grizzled and jaded Paris is a good choice for the episode and rounds out both characters. Bashir and O’Brien’s bromance gets a lot of credit from fans (and it is indeed great), but it took Deep Space Nine several seasons to get them together. Whereas on Voyager, Tom and Harry are there from the beginning, which is nice and impressive in its own way. Reporting for duty, Paris runs afoul of the ship’s doctor and first officer, two starched uniforms who drip with contempt over having him aboard. Stay away, Harry! He’s nothing but trouble!

Before Chakotay, there was an even more inert lump of person!

Janeway has a much friendlier and spunky energy. As the first woman to helm a Trek series, there’s a lot riding on Mulgrew’s shoulders but she handles the role capably. It’s interesting how decentralized the cast is – Janeway is of course in charge, but she doesn’t feel like the protagonist of the episode the way Picard or Sisko were in their respective pilots. If anything, Paris feels like the character who has the strongest story arc in the pilot, and he is indeed the most interesting person here. Kim gets the next most screen time, being paired up with not only Paris but Torres in the Ocampa hospital. It’s also a good dynamic, and I like their thorny banter.

Perhaps part of this is due to the recasting of Janeway from the original choice Geneviève Bujold. Having seen some of the original footage with Bujold, it seems like they made the right decision to go with Mulgrew, who has a far better screen presence and commanding persona. She exudes a tough alpha female energy but an emotional tenderness, as well. Her best scene is one with Tuvok that lays the foundation for their friendship. She stares out the window wistfully as she muses about never getting to know her crewmembers that well, her voice falling to just above a whisper. It’s a burden of command and an irony Trek has reinforced before – the captain cares deeply about their crew, but there’s always that emotional distance that’s necessary and must be maintained. Mulgrew really emotes the burden she feels to get the crew home – Harry to his mother, and Tuvok to his family.

“Curse your inevitable betrayal!”

Chakotay is kind of… just there. He gets a couple of good scenes but it would have been nice to get some more emphasis on him. In the context of the show, he’s just as important as Janeway, being the captain of his own crew. The first couple seasons would depict him as the moral leader of the Maquis in some important ways. Similar to Paris, he’s not a squeaky-clean Starfleet type, but someone with an edge and some saltiness and it provides some nice flavor.

Neelix is of course The Alien and his presentation here is pretty consistent with who he is throughout the series. Though he would be given depth in some notable episodes, he’s generally a grating person. The conception of the character is a little confused – he’s a nomadic alien junker dressed in furry rags, suspicious and experienced in the rough and tumble way of life in the region. He tricks the Voyager crew into helping him rescue a captured Kes from the Kazon, which is pretty brazen but admirable. But he’s also a super nice guy – obsequious even – who wears ridiculously flamboyant pastel suits and dreams of being a ship’s cook? It’s a little scattered, like he’s a mash-up of 2-3 character types. I always felt like the show was going for a Quark type with him, but without any of the edge or interest. In terms of any alien intrigue Neelix offers as a character, it pretty much peaks here and drops off drastically as he quickly endears himself as Janeway’s lapdog, which is unfortunate.

DO NOT WANT.

Similarly, I think Kes’ character also peaks here. First seen as a battered prisoner of the Kazon who managed to escape her underground society (and refused to snitch about how she got out), she comes off as a somewhat impetuous youth who threw off the shackles of her rigid and unimaginative society. When she returns to said society with the Voyager crew she blasts them for doing whatever (they believe) the Caretaker wants. After centuries underground being cared for by a higher being, the Ocampa have become a stagnant and inert people like the Eloi. They apparently had powerful mental abilities that have atrophied over the centuries from non-use. Kes’ spirit is too boundless for this kind of life, and so she escaped from it. But removing her from this context (as she is by the episode’s end) also removes all that drama, and like Neelix she’s just kind of there for the rest of the show (outside of a couple notable stories).

2Young 2Die

Lien embodies an intriguing serenity and a distinctively level, soothing voice, but I think they’re at odds with who the character is supposed to be. Her energy suggests an old soul at peace with the universe, but she’s also a youngster that’s only 2 years (?!) old. I think she would have made a good Trill, since she exudes a calm confidence that comes with several lifetimes of experience (she plays Dax better than Terry Farrell originally did). But instead she’s the exact opposite – someone extremely (extremely) new to the world/universe and full of youthful energy and verve. This episode is the only one that really conveys that rebelliousness in Kes. Although she’s basically a teenager, the show never explores what that would mean for her as a character (perhaps thankfully, considering how teens can be). Like Neelix, there are a couple conflicting ideas going on here which make the character a little muddled.

(In fact, she’s physically an adult and already sexually mature – in the next season she’ll even have a crisis over whether or not to have children when the opportunity arises. In this context especially it makes her relationship with Neelix SUPER weird and gross, and a component of the series that never, ever worked for me.)

“Don’t let looks fool you. This place is even dustier than it seems.”
“WHAT’S A TOILET? WE’RE A VERY ADVANCED CULTURE.”

One of the most persistent pieces of show lore introduced here is… the Kazon. Intended as the initial main antagonists, they were billed as the Klingons of the Delta Quadrant. It’s fair to say that no one liked them, despite the series’ continuing insistence on trying to make them happen. They’re fine here I guess as a dramatic obstacle, and in small doses overall they work well enough. But there’s nothing compelling about them and Voyager would come up with far better antagonists (or use previously established ones). Their conception as technologically inferior scavenger-warriors isn’t spellbinding, and they would go on to just be pests throughout the first two seasons, both to the crew and us the viewers.

The climax of the episode is exciting, with everything coming to a head in a thrilling way. The sight of the behemoth, absolute unit Kazon ship pummeling Voyager is a memorable one, and goes to shows how dangerous and unknown the Delta quadrant is. The fact that Voyager has superior technology that the region lacks (specifically transporters and replicators) is an interesting detail and would generate many plotlines (before eventually being done away with as the show progressed). But they’re all alone and in an unknown that’s much more unknown than any unknown… ever known.

“PREPARE TO FACE THE FULL FURY OF ONE OF OUR LIFTED SPACESHIPS WITH A DEE-LUXE ROLL CAGE. THIS THING GETS LIKE 1 MPG BUT FUCK THE ENVIRONMENT WHO CARES LOL. WE’RE A VERY CIVILIZED PEOPLE.”
“GODDAMMIT I KNEW THAT EXHAUST KIT WAS A PIECE OF CRAP. YOUR ASS IS GRASS, EARL!”

The sci-fi premise that’s at the heart of the story is good and there seems something classically Asimov-ian (or Clarke-ian) about it. The execution leaves something to be desired for several reasons. There’s a certain clunkiness to it, if only because there are so many details and players that need to be set up and it takes a while for it to come together. The sight of the gigantic Caretaker array firing energy pulses off into the unknown is a great, mysterious image. It’s no black monolith, but what else could be?

We eventually meet the Ocampa, the race that the Caretaker… takes care of. As said, they’re a very mild-mannered people who regard the Caretaker with a hushed, almost religious awe. Since he never speaks to them directly, they must interpret his wishes and supposed plans for them. The episode doesn’t delve much further into this idea, but it’s a classic sci-fi concept and one that’s been featured on Star Trek multiple times. In fact, every Trek pilot has included a God-Like Being in its plot, so I suppose it’s tradition. But there are no gods in the Trek universe, just super advanced aliens that aren’t that different from us when you peel back the amazing abilities. Starfleet’s advanced technology makes Voyager a little god-like to other aliens here, as well.

“Epic swell, brah! Ride it, ride it!”
It’s origin and purpose, still a total mindfuck.

It’s interesting, but as is the case with much science fiction, there’s not a whole lot of heart to the premise. Deep Space Nine’s pilot at least created a strong emotional story that linked Sisko’s pain with the strange, alien Prophets/wormhole aliens. In contrast, the Caretaker plot is just a bunch of stuff that happens and it’s difficult to really care about any of it on an emotional level.

What we eventually find out is that the Caretaker is one of a pair of super advanced aliens that were studying the Ocampa a thousand years ago. But their technology was incompatible with the planet’s something something and they accidentally destroyed their ecosystem. Rather than just dusting off their hands and saying “tough shit,” they stayed behind and set up an advanced underground society for them, providing them with all the energy they need (the pulses fired by the array). One of the aliens got bored and left, leaving the Caretaker to shoulder the burden of propping up this entire race of people he accidentally doomed to possible extinction. But now he’s old and dying and has been providing the Ocampa with a surplus of power that should last them several years. At the same time, he’s been searching the galaxy for a compatible life form to take over for him and run the array, hence the snatching of vessels from all over.

Masks go over your noses, morons! I’M FUCKING OVER IT.
OcamapaLand: It’s all the fun of being in an airport without the actual flying anywhere part!

The broad strokes of the story are good stuff, appropriately epic and dramatic. But the actor portraying the Caretaker is far too hammy to take seriously. The entire emotional core of the story rests upon him and it unfortunately falls through. I wouldn’t have expected a Martin Landau or a Charlton Heston-level ack-tor, but they could’ve done a lot better than this central casting old coot. The Caretaker does that classic alien move of providing an Earth-like environment to interact with the crew in, and it takes the form of an old country farm (and him as a withered banjo-plucking farmer). It’s kind of ridiculous and the story never quite escapes from the inherent silliness of it.

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head, sweet thing! Although we’re an artificially generated pastiche of 20th century Americana we don’t embody any of the inherent, systemic racism that time period would entail. Now how about some corn, sugar pea?”
Ehhh, can ya speak into mah good ear, sonny? I’m a very advanced alien ya know, ahehheh!”

Thematically, him being a farmer who tends to his land (and flock) makes sense in the context of the Ocampa. But the execution just doesn’t quite measure up. At the climax of the story (and the end of his life) he sits alone in his barn, lit only by a dim lamp. Finally understanding everything, Janeway suggests that though the Ocampa are like his children, there comes a point where a parent has to let them grow up, struggle, and hopefully succeed on their own. It’s the only scene of this plot that really works on an emotional level, and we can feel the sadness and weight that this alien being carries. Although the Caretaker is a strange and exotic being (his natural form is a gigantic purple blob), he has the same emotional burdens as everyone else and has a strong moral compass. It fits in with the general themes of Star Trek, and I wish that this facet could have been expanded upon to make us care more about… the Caretaker.

“I wish I could’ve seen them grow up. I knew I shouldn’t have had kids in my 900’s, but sometime life doesn’t go according to plan y’know? Speaking of which, mine’s going to end in about 10 seconds.”

This all leads to the central premise of the show – Voyager getting stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Before he dies, the Caretaker sets the auto-destruct on his array so that the Kazon don’t get their hands on his crazy advanced tech. But yadda yadda, the self destruct fails, and he dies. Tuvok figures out how to access the thingie that will send them home, but Janeway is concerned about the Ocampa and what will happen to them (and presumably lots of other local people) if those Kazon dickheads get control of the array, so she decides to destroy it to protect everyone. Even though she was just convincing the Caretaker that these kids need to grow up and start taking care of themselves. Tuvok even brings up that interfering in the situation is a potential violation of the Prime Directive. Simply leaving and letting nature take its course would be a justifiable choice as per Starfleet guidelines. Maybe not an ethical one, though. And as Janeway holds the tiny, shriveled remains of the Caretaker (um), we can see that transference of responsibility pass to her in Mulgrew’s face. It seems the Caretaker succeeded in his mission in an unintended way. She destroys the array and their big chance of returning home.

It’s decent, but a little contrived. Why not just put the tricobalt devices they use to destroy the station aboard with a time-delayed detonator and use the array to get home? Or just hang out on the array for a bit, figure out how to repair the auto destruct, and then get home? As Tuvok indicates, despite how super advanced the technology is, it’s still easy enough for mere mortals to figure out. Maybe they could reverse engineer this tech and apply it to their own ship and bring it back home? From a dramatic standpoint, I realize the point is for Janeway to prove her heroism by choosing to strand themselves to protect another race. It’s an immensely honorable, self-sacrificing act. And the presence of the Kazon and their calling for reinforcements does create a time crunch. But I’m sure the array is bristling with weaponry that could easily drive the Kazon off if need be. The details as presented here are a little inorganic and it feels like Voyager gets stranded because it needs to get stranded.

What you’re looking at is one of the most attractive members of this race. Like, supermodel good looks here. In fact, it’s kind of weird that you’re not turned on.
“Looks like my search for the perfect paperweight is over. It’s what he would have wanted. Now he can caretake… my receipts.”

Janeway unilaterally makes this choice for both the Starfleet and Maquis crews, and Torres is the only one that pipes up about it. Though Janeway’s guilt was referenced here and there, the show never properly dealt with the fallout from Janeway’s decision here (or any of the other morally questionable ones she would go on to make). Which is understandable, because it’s some super heavy and dark stuff when you get down to it. But it could have been sidestepped by just having the Caretaker’s tech get too damaged during the battle to fix or use anymore. Or just having it be too far beyond the comprehension of the crew to ever get to work. But parsing all the details we get here, her decision to strand everyone seems reckless and even unnecessary.

Additionally, one of the most common complaints about this episode (and Voyager’s first season or two), is how quickly and inexplicably the Maquis adopt the Starfleet way – and even the uniforms, as they’re all dressed in by the final scene here. And it is indeed a huge misstep, in my opinion. Though the conflict between the two groups of people would be played out here and there in the initial seasons, the sight of everyone wearing the same uniforms here seems like a drastic truncation of the basic conflict between the peoples. These are two groups of people that do not like each other or even respect one another, as the rest of episode goes out of its way to show through the interactions of Tom Paris and some of the Starfleet crew.

“I’ve decided that we’re past our diametrically opposed political viewpoints. Now that that’s over with, get started on my laundry.”

So to have all the Maquis dressed up in the uniforms of the organization they fled from, betrayed (and felt betrayed by), and maybe even hate is just bizarre. Even if the eventual goal had to have been getting everyone on the same team, that could have been accomplished in a much more gradual and realistic fashion. What if it had taken an entire season or two for the Maquis to assimilate and for the two groups to reach a mutual understanding? What if the show had taken the time to really build and nourish that process of coming together? The Maquis were created two shows ago to specifically set up this series, and the amount of planning and groundwork laid was impressive (even if the results weren’t). So given that, it seems even weirder to just wipe most of it away by the final scene in the first episode. It displays one of the flaws of Voyager – an unwillingness to plumb the depths of its premise and exploit the dramatic potentials the series offered. As new and fresh as the show wanted to be, it still seemed risk-averse and too tied to the episodic formula of TOS and TNG.

But anyway.

It goes without saying that any premiere episode is going to be flawed, and Voyager’s was no exception. But in the context of other Star Trek pilots, it’s a remarkably well put together and cogent episode. Being the third Trek series to have been made in quick succession, it shows how well the machinery of the franchise was working and how polished a product it could churn out. It has a fresh edginess that’s enticing and utilizes its budget and SFX to maximum effect for an epic sci-fi adventure. The approach to the characters is impressively solidified and shows a lot of dramatic potential. It’s the most cinematic a Trek pilot had been and though the ride was a little bumpy, it started things off on a bold and exciting foot.


Stray Observations:

Gratuitous aft shot.
“I don’t want to name drop or anything, but… Captain PICARD? Ever heard of him? Yeah, we’re kinda frenemies. No biggie. Ahem.”
WHAT ABOUT THE DOOOOG
We’re going to find out what happens when aliens stop being polite, and start getting… diseased.
NSFW – Neelix Sucks Fucking What
“Oh. Brien.”
Semper fi, marine.
Ohhhh yeah, the Caretaker’s gonna take care of allll your needs, honey.
Mmm-hmmm, this big purple sack of love is gonna give you alllll sorts of diseases, baby.
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