I just heard that Enterprise, the fifth incarnation of the best-known science-fiction series in television history, Star Trek, has been cancelled. I’m not surprised — rumors have been circulating for months that UPN was only stringing the low-rated show along until it hit 100 episodes, which is considered the sweet-spot for syndicated re-run packages. (One hundred eps are optimal for syndication because you can run the show five nights a week without viewers seeing the same ones too frequently. As it is, Enterprise will warp off into the sunset with only 98 episodes, but that’s apparently good enough.)
I’m also not what you would call heartbroken about losing this show. I think I’ve only seen three or four complete episodes and they didn’t move me one way or the other. The sad truth is that I was profoundly indifferent to this version of the Trek concept; I haven’t really considered myself an active Trek fan in years, not since Deep Space Nine wrapped production. But there is one aspect of this story that causes a twinge: after the final episode of Enterprise airs in May, it will be the first time since 1987 that there is no new Star Trek in the offing. No new spin-off series, no big-screen movies. As an idea and a brand name, Star Trek will have finally run its course. The tie-in books and computer games will probably continue for a while, but they’ll eventually peter out as well, and Star Trek will fade into history.
Naturally, the hardcore fanboys are having a hard time accepting the inevitable; there is much speculation on the message boards about a sixth Trek series that will debut after a suitable resting period, five years or maybe even a decade from now. Sorry, guys, but I believe that’s just wishful thinking. It’s over. And you know what? It should be over. It should’ve been over years ago, in my opinion.
