Jeffrey Rewrites Voyager: Ex Post Facto

Let’s get this out of the way right off: I love noir.

I love craggy, tough-as-nails gumshoes in battered fedoras and rumpled suits, rubbing their five-o-clock shadows while drinking scotch and talking about the mean streets. I love morally ambiguous detective stories where you’re not supposed to like the hero, you’re just supposed to respect him, and where his detective skills relied less on Holmesian deduction and more on telling when someone was lying, being fast with a gun, keeping the cops at bay, and never, ever trusting the dame.

It's not sexist when Bogey does it. That's the rule, right?

In many ways the entire genre is sexist, where women are either innocent virgins to be protected, or seductive vamps to be used and/or ensnared by, and more often than not the plot twist is that the former turns out to be the latter. And yet men are treated no better, being either crafty and manipulative villains or thuggish and stupid goons. It is a world where everyone has the worst intentions, and no one has virtue. And I love it.

And so when I talk about Ex Post Facto, Voyager’s obvious tribute to noir, I am predisposed to like it. But right from the start it’s an awkward mix. Roddenberry’s future is bright, clean, and idealistic. Noir is the opposite of all those things. It’s like if someone took Superman, a beacon of hope, truth, and justice, and made him a distrusted, hated outcast who eventually had to turn to destruction and violence to save a morally ambiguous people from a morally evil villain and… oh yeah.

It’s a hard line for Star Trek to straddle. Luckily, for cases just such as this, we have Tom Paris, who’s morally bowlegged enough to pull it off. Sort of.

As always this rewrite will be thematic, rather than chronological, so those in need of a refresher can check out the Memory Alpha Wiki.

Tom at his most romantic and understanding

For episode after episode, I have ruthlessly rewritten Tom Paris to be something other than a helpless lump of flesh attached to a penis that drags him around against his will . Now, finally, we can show him as a womanizer in the Kirk and Riker tradition. And since in my rewrite we have not had scene after scene hammering home Tom’s almost predatory libido, the immediate reaction will not be “oh, not again”, but instead a bit of character development. And so we have Tom’s attraction to, and affair with, Lidell Ren.

Now, if you remember from my rewrite of Time And Again my vision of Tom is a man of 20th century ideals, who does not fit in at Starfleet. His approach to sex is similar. Unlike an enlightened 24th century person who treats sex casually enough to fully consider the consequences of an affair with Lidell, Tom is swept away in passion for that which he cannot have. The forbidden nature of Lidell calls to him, much like suspicious women always call to the noir hero.

In the original episode  this manifests as almost predatory behavior. Now that’s very noir, but some aspects of noir are best left back in the 50s. So instead I would soften that. Rather than have Tom start staring at Lidell, instead he is caught by her own seductive stare. Which is not to say that she is seducing him, but they are mutually attracted to each other. There is a spark between them. When Harry accuses him of looking at a married woman, Tom quips, “There’s no harm in looking,” but already we see the seeds have been planted.

It's all right! It's not tobacco, just pot. Some guy in a tinfoil
hat told me that it cures cancer!

Rather than acting reserved and distressed throughout dinner, instead Lidell Ren is flirtatious with Tom, suggestive even. This is not to say that she’s preying on Tom, as he reacts with gusto, but it makes him more a willing participant and less a stalker. Then, when he comes upon her in the atrium, and she tells him that she’s dangerous and that he’s better off leaving her alone, he actually has a reason to press her. This also allows Tom to gain the sexual initiative, while not forcing himself on her.

Now the reveal is Lidell Ren is an evil woman with designs on Tom, who uses her sexual charms to trick him. That is a cliché we have seen played out again and again, and normally I would criticize it for being a sexist cliché. But this is Voyager. Janeway is Captain, Kes, B’Elanna, and Seven of Nine are or will be major characters, and of all the charges that can be laid against the show sexism is not one of them. Meanwhile the cliché is so ubiquitous in noir that it would seem strange if it was not present. And so, in my opinion, it is acceptable for Voyager to indulge some noir clichés for one episode. After all, there’s nothing particularly wrong with a woman being a damsel in distress, or being a scheming seductress, as long as it is not overdone. Voyager does not overdo it, and Janeway, B’Elanna, and Kes all get bits of their own during this episode, so I think they can get away with it here.

In my opinion, Tom’s plot is good. Likewise, Harry’s is excellent. I get annoyed with how often in media res is used in television, but this is one case where it works, because it allows Harry to give his best hardboiled voiceover describing the events. In addition, his relationship with Tom is strengthened here. Tom admits that he has trouble with moral decisions, and he needs Harry to be his conscience. This is a good place for them to be in the first season. By the end of the series, Tom will have developed into a good Starfleet officer in his own right, while Harry will be less the cherubic and naïve ensign that he is. Showing that Tom realizes he has moral deficiencies, and needs someone like Harry as a friend, is good for the story.

Likewise, Chakotay and B’Elanna get a nice scene that shows off their Maquis knowhow, although it is ruined by Janeway’s desperate need to one-up poor Chakotay. Chakotay plays the wounded wing gambit, pretending to be disabled, and Janeway scoffs that this is a very old trick. When Chakotay reveals it worked on Starfleet, Janeway again scoffs that if she had been in command, it would not have worked.

The emotionally abusive romance begins...

Sorry, Janeway, but this is Chakotay’s time to shine. So a twist needs to be added. He’s not just playing dead, he’s playing dead and doing something else. This impresses Janeway, who has never seen this particular variation before (the actual variation does not matter, as long as it exists). Then she gives her “That trick won’t work now” line, to which Chakotay smiles and responds, “I have others”. This allows him to be what he should be: A very clever commander who for some time has been outsmarting the bigger, better-armed Starfleet, and who thinks outside the box better than Janeway does. This also continues to emphasize the divide between Maquis and Starfleet.

Which is not to say that Janeway is left high and dry here. The second encounter with the Nimirians allows her to be quite badass, playing her gambit to have them “capture” a shuttle loaded with explosives. She is also seen to rely on Neelix’s expertise in this episode, which is good. Neelix is adjusting to thinking of himself as part of Starfleet (though he is not quite there yet, as when he starts with “Your own” before hastily amending it to “Our own”). But this shows his inherent value to the crew as a guide, and the often ignored Neelix needs the boost.

Another good part of this story is Kes and the Doctor. The Doctor is still dealing with the fact that he might be sentient, which builds well off my rewrite of Eye of the Needle where Janeway first considered he might be sentient. Still, Kes clearly does not understand how holograms work, and this time I side with the Doctor. Indeed, I want to drive his argument home. When Tuvok wishes to mind-meld with Paris, the Doctor’s objections would be better if they were explicit.

“I simply do not have enough data! My decision-making programming is unable to arrive at a conclusion. Due to the danger of the unknown , I must therefore argue against this procedure!” This hearkens back to his protests to Kes that his decisions are simply a series of programs, and it gives him somewhere to grow.

It is always the job of the Vulcan to fix everyone's stupid

And did we mention Tuvok? Yes we did. Let’s talk about Tuvok.

I love noir. But noir is not Star Trek. Noir is dirty and grungy and all things Tom Paris. Star Trek is futuristic, and clean. And in this case, it is all things Mr. Tuvok. Tuvok does not become a noir detective. Indeed, he sticks out like a sore thumb, applying ruthless logic and reason to a situation, behaving in a Holmesian manner despite the noir situation about him. A pure, untouched beacon of logic, he strides through the episode, and the darkness and moral ambiguity part before him like the Red Sea before Moses. And that is good. Because as much as I love the homage to noir, this is still Star Trek. And it has to remain Star Trek.

Still, much as I praise Tuvok’s investigation, especially his scene with Lidell where he staunchly refuses to play along with her noir-esque flirtations, the ending of the episode is a standard parlor scene. And a parlor scene seems far too “Murder, She Wrote” to fit the noir setting. Plus, while Tuvok’s investigations are great, he does ultimately hinge his defense upon a dog recognizing someone. Which is flimsy evidence, at best.

So instead, Tuvok does not immediately bring out the data about the hidden encryption. Tuvok starts with the height, and with the dog. Then, when the villain scoffs that such evidence is not enough, he brings out the whammy: The encryption, proof that the murder was set up by a Nimirian spy. Then he reveals that, as the doctor in charge of implanting Tom with the engrams, and being only one of two people that knew about the shuttle trap for the Nimirians, only the villain had the motive and the opportunity.

At that point, confronted with his guilt, the doctor attempts to pin it all on Lidell, who, angry at his betrayal, takes the knife that was used to murder her husband, and stabs the doctor. Then she is arrested after a longing look at Tom, perhaps a line about, “If only there hadn’t been a war… if only things had been different…” to which he could reply, “If only you hadn’t lied,” or something else pithy. And that would be a true noir ending. After all, if you are going to go for an homage, you may as well go all the way.

I give this episode an A for effort, and bonus marks for appealing to one of my favorite genres, but something just does not seem to gel. The fusion of Star Trek and noir is so outlandish that it would take a particularly well done episode to make it work. And, to be fair, this one almost makes it. A little more polish and it would be one of the greats, right up there with Picard’s Dixon Hill adventures.

I promise I'll never be distracted by a pretty face agai-ooooooooh, l'amour!