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DVD Commentary: "Singularity"

Audio commentary from the crew of Enterprise for the DVD of "Singularity," written by Chris Black, directed by Patrick Norris.

ARCHER: This is Jonathan Archer of the Starfleet vessel Enterprise. I'm here with my senior staff --

TRIP: Cap'n, we did the introductions last time. Let's just cut to the episode.

ARCHER: You're in an awful hurry.

TRIP: Just tryin' to keep folks from gettin' bored.

ARCHER: Ooookay. Anyone else have an opinion?

PHLOX: Captain, if they don't know who we are, the commentary itself will be of little value.

T'POL: I believe we may safely assume the audience is familiar with all of us. I recommend we proceed.

MALCOLM: A refreshing change of pace for you, Subcommander.

TRAVIS: Actually, I wouldn't mind if we went through the introductions. I get knocked out of the action pretty early on in this one -- I need something to talk about.

HOSHI: You got off the lightest, bub. The rest of us look deranged.

MALCOLM: Motion carried. Start the show.

TRAVIS: You owe me a drink for that.

{Teaser. Spooky pan over the crew collapsed in various positions.}

PHLOX: Everyone is sprawled rather artfully, don't you think?

TRAVIS: There's a nice variety, though.

HOSHI: Very well-choreographed THUDding.

{"I've transmitted a distress call but the nearest Vulcan ship is more than nine days away."}

ARCHER: Do the Vulcans have something like a thousand ships wandering around, or have we just not gotten very far?

PHLOX: There's that clanking sound again. Is that some sort of atavistic distress call among your people?

TRIP: Clanking in the background music means someone's about to discover or reveal a scary secret. Shrieking violins means a murderer's around the corner.

PHLOX: Hm! I'll make a note of that.

{music swells}

ARCHER: Who's got the remote?

PORTHOS: {muffled bark}

TRAVIS: Nice job.

PORTHOS: It hurts my ears a lot more than it does yours, believe me.

{episode begins}

Check out all the paper tacked to the wall for her researchHOSHI: Check out all the paper tacked to the wall for her research. That's a nice set dressing detail.

{"I'm documenting my findings so that Starfleet will at least have a record of what happened."}

HOSHI: What did you do with that "record," anyway?

T'POL: I completed my analysis with the Doctor's assistance and submitted it to the Captain.

ARCHER: Starfleet Medical got the details without names. Admiral Forrest only got the highlights.

TRIP: Thank you.

PHLOX: Indeed.

{"But none of them were part of a trinary star system."}

TRIP: used to be a quaternary star system? Or is it now a binary star system with a black hole?

MALCOLM: A black hole is a collapsed star.

TRIP: Well, does that count or doesn't it?

MALCOLM: Give the black hole a few thousand years and there won't be a star system at all.

{"Close enough to get some nice pictures."}

TRIP: What was that look about? Why were you rollin' your eyes at me?

T'POL: Your terminology is colloquial and imprecise.

TRIP: It's also not wrong. We did take pictures.

T'POL: A high-resolution particle scan hardly qualifies as "taking --

ARCHER: Don't make me separate you two.

{"When I lean back I feel like I'm about to slide out of it. I have to sort of...perch on the edge."}

T'POL: Perhaps you might replace the vinyl cushion with cloth.

TRAVIS: Something embroidered might give you better traction.

HOSHI: How do you think the rest of us stay put through all that jolting?

ARCHER: Are you telling me that my senior staff has researched "jolted-butt traction"?

{general laughter}

Can anybody read what it says on the screen?{T'POL comes to Archer's office.}

HOSHI: Hey, pause it. Can anybody read what it says on the screen?

ARCHER: Hoshi, the book was printed. I'll give you a copy.

HOSHI: "Archer #10 Galley Draft."

MALCOLM: Never mind the screen, can you read the spines of the books on the desk?

TRIP: Dickens, Del Stevens, and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

T'POL: I was not aware of such a guide. Who is the author? Hitchhiking can be quite dangerous.

PHLOX: I notice you're hovering over your seat again, Captain; is your desk chair also sliding vinyl?

ARCHER: I'm...pacing in place.

In the long shot there are no books next to the monitor!HOSHI: Wait -- in the long shot there are no books next to the monitor! It's a little piece of computer equipment! What happened?

{"Apparently, she spends some of her free time in the galley and is eager for an opportunity to cook for the crew."}

TRAVIS: Or cook the crew.

HOSHI: This isn't "Sweeney Todd."

{"Let me ask you a question."}

MALCOLM: What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

TRIP: An African or European swallow?


TRIP: Cap'n, you really should duck when you're pacin' around like that. You'll hurt yourself bangin' into the bulkheads.

ARCHER: I wasn't banging into it, I was resting my forehead on it.

{"'ll be able to condense your thoughts."}

TRIP: Oh, that's what you were doin' -- condensing.

MALCOLM: Wouldn't that be more like compressing?


HOSHI: Ohhh, I love this kitchen. Convection ovens. Counter space. All that stainless steel.

PORTHOS: And cheese.

{"It's one of my grandmother's specialties. The recipe's been passed down for generations."}

TRIP: Like my Nonna's sauce.

ARCHER: The best tomato sauce I've ever had.

MALCOLM: Why haven't you made it for us?

TRIP: Are you jokin'? My momma's almost 60, and she still hasn't gotten it quite right.


So what did I interrupt you from making here, Doc?TRAVIS: So what did I interrupt you from making here, Doc?

PHLOX: Nonna's tomato sauce.

{general snickering}

{"Is there something I can do for you?"}

HOSHI: Expose me to a complicated disease which will require several episodes to deal with?

TRIP: Let the bat loose so Ah have to chase it around the ship making weird animal sounds for comic relief?

ARCHER: Cross-train me to be a medic like Tom Paris?

MALCOLM: Let me sacrifice myself in some painful but noble manner to save the entire ship?

PHLOX: Naaaah, I'll just settle for sedating you.

TRAVIS {laughing}: I really love you guys. Honestly. I'll be sure to neglect to mention your names when I get my first Oscar.

MALCOLM: Will that be for "The Marcel Marceau Story"?

TRAVIS: Now you owe me two drinks.

{"To see if you've had any problems since I removed the neural implants you received at the repair station."}

TRAVIS: Other than the recurring urge to stick my fingers into data ports and occasional lapses into binary speech, no, I'm feeling fine.

ARCHER: Phlox, you sawThe Shining right before we filmed this, didn't you?

PHLOX: Batman, actually.


ARCHER: You want to watch the arm of the chair there, Trip. You'll bang your face on it.

MALCOLM: You are sitting in an exceedingly uncomfortable position.

TRIP: Yeah, and ya notice Norris never directed for us again after this episode.

{"We also have sensitive hearing."}

ARCHER: In other words...


{Armory. Or Armoury, if you prefer.}

{"I've been reviewing our encounters with hostile species."}

TRIP {mimicking British accent}: Did you know we've been getting our arses kicked at an alarming rate?

ARCHER: We must lack butt traction.

{"...but this isn't a warship."
"Well, that's obvious, sir."}

TRAVIS: Enterprise isn't a warship! Warp speed is really fast! More news at eleven!

ARCHER: Look, I was already affected. And we kept the Tactical Alert, didn't we?

MALCOLM: I find it slightly ridiculous that I was the one to come up with it a year and a half into the series. Don't the writers have a military advisor of any kind?

TRIP: You did a nice job in this scene. You managed to look competent, nervous, formal, intimidated, and condescending all at once.

MALCOLM: You think so? I was concerned about overplaying the sneer. I had to keep dialing back. It took five or six takes.

TRIP: No, ya did great.

Where is the light coming from?{Stock shot of ship flying through space.}

TRAVIS: Where is the light coming from?

HOSHI: What light?

TRAVIS: The light reflecting on the hull.

T'POL: We automatically deploy a spotlight probe when we are out of the range of any sufficiently bright star, to assist the camera in locating the ship.

{Mess Hall.}

{"It's the Captain's chair."}

HOSHI: Mee-ow!

PORTHOS: {barks}

HOSHI: It's just an expression, Porthos.

PORTHOS: I was complimenting Trip on his delivery. He packed an hour of outrage into four words.

Lunch{Shot of Trip and Malcolm's lunch.}

ARCHER: Trip, did you eat the edamame pods whole?

TRIP: Yeah, why not?

ARCHER: Ew! They're all stringy. You're supposed to pop them open and eat the beans inside.

TRIP: Nah, too much fuss.

MALCOLM: {disgusted laugh}

TRIP: Hey, what Grandma said about eating habits applies to other humans too, ya know.


{"How much longer is this going to take?"}

PHLOX: Oh, don't worry, you won't go through your entire month's quota of lines.

TRAVIS: Then I can have my clone corpse fill in for me while I hit the jazz clubs.

MALCOLM: Do corpses get union scale?

TRAVIS: Only if they're reanimated.

{ARCHER's quarters.}

HOSHI: Pause it again!

ARCHER: Hoshi...

Transcription 08-27HOSHI: "Transcription 08-27." Look, our people spend a lot of time putting those details in, and I think they should be acknowledged, that's all.

TRIP: Cap'n, are you tryin' to channel Shatner here?

ARCHER: Hey, don't mess with Bill.

{T'POL's quarters.}

MALCOLM: Your accent got rather thick in this scene, Mister Tucker.

T'POL: That was the first clue that something was amiss. The Commander usually speaks more clearly when he is angered, not less.

PHLOX: Do you think anyone in the audience will notice that?

TRIP: My fans are very focused.

{"Gee, I wish this chair wasn't such a pain in the ass."}

TRAVIS: See, now if you got it embroidered --

MALCOLM: Quilted.

ARCHER: Quilted?

MALCOLM: Vastly more comfortable.

PHLOX: Aha! Clanking! Something's about to be revealed!


As Mister Mayweather's eyeballs go for the Emmy...ARCHER: As Mister Mayweather's eyeballs go for the Emmy...

{general laughter}

MALCOLM: You're awfully lively for not having slept all night.

TRAVIS: I had two dozen lines, dammit, and I was gonna make the most of 'em!

TRIP: Why did you get back up on the biobed to get a shot? It's not like he couldn't reach your neck.

PHLOX: Oh, I asked him to do that. I wasn't sure I could catch him if he collapsed from a standing position.

TRAVIS: Aaaaaand there I go.

MALCOLM: Would you like that drink now?

TRAVIS: You owe me two. I'll take a Sam Adams if there are any left.


{"It seemed a bit narcissistic."}

TRIP: Which is not one of your faults.

MALCOLM: Thank you. I think. That was a compliment, wasn't it?

TRIP: Yes, Mal.

MALCOLM: Oh. Good.

{Test alarms blare wildly.}

ARCHER: Obnoxious car alarms, neon undercarriage lights -- we've been invaded by Vinnies from the Drakkar Noir Nebula!

{"They both sound like a bag fulla cats."}

T'POL: No known species of feline could emit any sound which resembled those alarms.

HOSHI: You have the best snits, Lieutenant.

MALCOLM: Is that another compliment?







HOSHI: We need more mind-altering anomalies. That's the most emotion I've gotten to show since I screamed like a twelve-year-old in "Fight or Flight."

{Different stock shot of ship flying.}

TRAVIS: Shouldn't we be seeing the trinary system by now? At least as a bright spot?


TRIP: Ah think your accent changed a little here too.

MALCOLM: My peeps were calling this the "Lord Admiral Half-Nelson" inflection.

TRAVIS: Actually, most of these suggestions made sense.

ARCHER: They did. I think we kept a lot of them.

PHLOX: Not the one about executing traitors by firing squad in the Cargo Bay at high noon, fortunately.

Why are you armed?{"Why are you armed?"}

MALCOLM: Because I'm the bloody head of security and I should be armed at all times, that's why.

TRIP: So that is just a phase pistol in your pocket?

ARCHER: Don't make me separate you two.

{"...growing consumed with matters that seemed trivial, at best."}

PORTHOS: I think you're just jealous that I know more of the Sports questions in the Genus VII edition than you do.


{"Did you know that this chair is the exact same model used on Neptune-Class survey ships?"}

MALCOLM: Someone call a cleanup crew; we've got a large puddle of disdain on the floor outside Mister Tucker's office.

PHLOX: I think the Commander's performance was marvelous. You're very expressive.

TRIP: Thank you.

{"Ah'm gonna build you a throne."}

TRAVIS: Scatological double-entendre?

TRIP: Check.

TRAVIS: Why are you two the only ones in Engineering? Where are the extras?

HOSHI: Just a fact of Trek life. Sometimes all the NPCs...go away somewhere.

T'POL: I believe the implication is that each crew member is busy with his or her own obsessions.

PHLOX: I was relieved to find, after interviewing the crew, that apparently I was the only one who became obsessed with another crewmember. I'm not sure even Star Trek wants to deal with stalking.

MALCOLM: That could be an interesting B-plot for a future episode.

ARCHER: Does Duras count?

T'POL: Perhaps.

{Alarm blares.}

TRAVIS: We have a winner! Bag of cats number one!

{Bridge. Squabbling.}

PHLOX: Aha! Clanking! This must be the great secret revealed!

HOSHI: Drop a note to the soundtrack people. They'll be delighted that you noticed.

{"One minute and forty-nine seconds."}

PORTHOS: Wow, it actually was! That was perfectly timed!

{"This isn't a bloody pleasure cruise!"}

You're startin' to foam at the mouth there, Mal.TRIP: You're startin' to foam at the mouth there, Mal.

MALCOLM: A little Brioschi tucked in between cheek and gum.

ARCHER: Malcolm! Don't give away trade secrets like that.

{Yet another stock shot of ship flying through space.}

TRAVIS: I guess we're on autopilot, because if my relief is obsessed with his aglets or something, we'd be adrift.

T'POL: The cost of an additional custom external shot would have inflated the effects budget unnecessarily. This is a "bottle" episode.

{ARCHER's quarters.}

ARCHER: Okay, Hoshi, what does the monitor say?

Transcription 08-31HOSHI: "Transcription 08-31," I think. Plus what you read to Trip and another paragraph with a lot of ellipses -- the one you started earlier about the facility at Bozeman.

ARCHER: The transcribing program actually put in all the pauses as ellipses? Wow.


TRIP: Travis, you may want to go get some coffee for this scene.

TRAVIS: Urg. That sounds like a good idea.

ARCHER: How can you be performing brain surgery without having even a curtain up around the patient? Anybody could walk in and disrupt you.

PHLOX: Fortunately.

{"I'm going to begin by extracting the first 12 millimeters of his parietal lobe."}

TRIP: That's a whole lotta lobe, Doc.

PHLOX: Well, you know, best to be thorough.

TRIP: Ah think Ah'm gonna go get some coffee m'self.

MALCOLM: I'd love some tea if you're up.

HOSHI: Oh, me too.

{T'POL neck-pinches PHLOX. He falls like a sack of wet cement.}

PHLOX: Aaaaand there I go.

MALCOLM: I'd like you to teach me that sometime.

T'POL: No.

{T'POL wanders the ship and VOs narration.}

HOSHI: It was a good thing Chef was down with that virus for a few days. I spent three hours scrubbing the stove where the oden boiled over.

{"If I can chart a course between the stars..."}

ARCHER: That's the other Janeway Maneuver.

TRAVIS: Yeah, the one that's right before the Kolvoord Starburst on the Starfleet pilots' prohibited list. Here's your tea.

HOSHI: Thanks.

{ARCHER's quarters.}

PHLOX: I'm curious, Subcommander; what was in that flask you're carrying?

T'POL: Double-strength espresso.

ARCHER: Why didn't you just bring me warp plasma?

T'POL: I could not find a proper container on such short notice.

Why are the controls to the shower outside the shower?TRIP: Why are the controls to the shower outside the shower? What idiot designed these things?

MALCOLM: You had your chance to build a better mousetrap, Mister Tucker. Don't cry about it now.

{"Vulcan physiology seems to be immune."}

ARCHER: A simple "No" would have been sufficient, T'Pol.

T'POL: It would have been imprecise. Besides, Vulcans are enamored of sesquipedalian responses.

{"Lousy coffee."}

TRIP: Philistine. Remind me not to have you over for cappuccino.

ARCHER: She didn't put any sugar in it!

MALCOLM: He has a point.


TRAVIS: I'm glad somebody thinks of me.

HOSHI: Too bad it wasn't Chris Black.

{Jolting Bridge.}

TRAVIS: Notice how you didn't slide out of my chair the whole scene?

ARCHER: Embroidery, huh?

TRAVIS: The only thing better is velcro.

ARCHER: I don't need my butt to have that much grip.

TRIP: Don't make me separate you two.

{T'POL shoots at the debris.}

MALCOLM: Not bad, Subcommander.

T'POL: You will find my initials at the top of the High Score list of every "Asteroids" game within fifty kilometers of the Vulcan compound in San Francisco.

TRP: How's your score on "Space Invaders"?

T'POL: Acceptable.

Floor-face!{Crew begins to wake up.}

HOSHI: Bed-head!

TRIP: More like drool-face.


{"What procedure on Mr. Mayweather?"}

PHLOX: I was attempting a charisma graft. Viggo Mortensen kindly gave a donation.

{ARCHER's office.}

{"You wanted to see me, Captain?"
"I did."}

ARCHER: And now I have, so you can go. --ow!

TRIP: Nice shootin', Tex.

MALCOLM: Fastest rubber band in the West End.

TRIP: Ah'm glad to see your sharpshooting skills aren't limited to conventional weapons.


The heels of your feet don't reach the deck.PHLOX: Captain, it's no wonder you're sliding out of your chair when you sit back. The heels of your feet don't reach the deck.

{"Cross your legs."}

HOSHI: That's our captain, always setting a good example for the ladies.

TRIP: Ah don't know what Black was thinkin'. That was a weird line.

{"How about I just attach the cup-holder?"}

ARCHER: How about a seat belt?

TRAVIS: That would be gut traction, Captain.

T'POL: Traditionally, girdles have filled that function for Starfleet captains.

ARCHER: Aaaaand on that note, we wrap up our commentary on "Singularity." Thanks for joining us.

PHLOX: Which episode are we doing next?

TRIP: Something clankless.