(Second of Two Parts)
On Monday I talked about the moment during the Battlestar Galactica series finale when, for lack of a better term, the final episode went off the rails. Simply put, when Cavil agreed to give up Hera in return for resurrection technology, my enjoyment of “Daybreak (2)” began to peter out. By the time the episode ended I was actively not enjoying it. Why? Because what I was watching at that moment wasn’t the Battlestar Galactica I had started watching in January of 2005.
I could write at length about the frustration I felt when Starbuck was revealed to be some sort of angel (or at least a being of angelic proportions?). But I won’t. And I could vent about the weird epilogue with the silly cameo by Ronald D. Moore, the “head” versions of Baltar and Six talking about how “God” doesn’t like to be called “him” and those stupid dancing robots. But I won’t. Suffice it to say, I thought it was a poor way to end the series. That’s actually a bit of an understatement.
No, I don’t see the point it laying out all things that disappointed me about the finale. I’ve accepted that disappointment and I’ve moved past it. I do want to take a moment to explain why I think the concept of cyclical history (“This has all happened before. And it will all happen again.”) actually hurt Battlestar Galactica more than it helped. It’s an interesting concept, I admit, but the way I see it, having history continually repeat itself really destroys any idea that these characters — Adama, Starbuck, Baltar — have had any impact on the events depicted in the series.
The things I don’t understand about the history of Battlestar Galactica could fill volumes. Were the Cylons created by man or was man created by the Cylons? Was Earth — the Earth found to be a wasteland — the birthplace of the Cylons and/or mankind or just another planet they expanded to? I’m not even sure where the Final Five came from, to be honest. I think the Final Five were created by human-Cylons in response to something the Centurions asked for or demanded but I’m not sure.
Still, if the final half of Season Four taught us anything, it’s that the battle between Cylons and mankind has happened before, in one way or another, and despite the best intentions of Adama and Lee and the others, it may very well happen again. If this is true, then doesn’t that suggest that free will is meaningless? Group A creates Group B only to have Group B rise up and destroy Group A. Group B then create their own version of Group A (Group C) only to have that group rise up and destroy Group B. And so on and so forth. Technology inevitably seems to lead to destruction.
No matter what anyone aboard Galactica did, ultimately humanity was going start the whole cycle over again. The Galactica, after rescuing Hera, using coordinates provided by Starbuck, jumps to a beautiful, pristine blue and green planet. Once the rest of the fleet arrives, the planet is named Earth, the fleet plows into the sun and the remnants of humanity and the human-Cylons decide to cast out all their technology and live primitive lives on Earth, interbreeding with the native populace.
The epilogue, with “head” Baltar and Six, suggests that even this drastic measure wasn’t enough to break the cycle. Some 150,000 years after settling on Earth, the resulting human race has once again turned to technology. Those dancing robots are but the precursor to Cylons, it seems. Is there no way to break the cycle, then? No possible decision that can stop humanity from creating a race of robotic beings that will one day turn around and destroy it? It’s a dark thought, to be sure, and a depressing interpretation of the finale. It also appears to makes the rest of the series, in a sense, utterly pointless. And that, to me, is a slap in the face to fans of the series.
I think most people will agree that during the miniseries and the first one or two seasons, viewers were under the impression that they were watching a show that would, eventually, conclude. They would know why what the vaulted Cylon plan was. They would know why Baltar was seeing, talking and having sex with a lovely woman only he could see. They would, in the words of SCI FI Channel, know the truth. As the series progressed and things became more complicated, perhaps there were those who began to wonder if those answers would come.
My point is, when Battlestar Galactica began it was seemingly a straightforward series about a “rag tag fleet” made up of the last remnants of humanity, trying to stay one step ahead of the Cylons, and fighting to survive while maybe looking for this place called Earth. Exactly when this stopped begin the case, I can’t say. I haven’t seen the second or third seasons since they first aired and I don’t remember specifics. But it happened. Somewhere along the line, Battlestar Galactica stopped being straightforward and became something different.
Now, I’m not going to say that this “shift” in tone or atmosphere or direction or whatever was wrong or even necessarily bad for the series as a whole. It was a change, however. I am not convinced that when the miniseries went on the air, writers and producers had any idea what Battlestar Galactica would become. Again, that isn’t wrong or bad or evil. It’s actually understandable. That doesn’t mean viewers can’t be frustrated or disappointed or even upset by what Battlestar Galactica became or how it ended.
Since before it premiered, the series has been divisive. That’s not going to end just because the series is over.
May 7th, 2011 at 7:48 pm
Thankyou.
I’m sick of reading reviews of the series which state the ‘mysteries’, the unexplained inconsistencies, were some kind of higher intellect at work.
The reality is the mini-series and the first season were brilliant. You’d watch an episode, and afterwards think “Wow!” and be desperate to see next week’s. There was a parallel going on with the 1978 series where they were doing similar things with new twists (eg. finding Pegasus, but with a sinister, senior officer in charge). There was the sense of them undertaking quests – all that stuff about the Arrow and fulfilling prophecies.
I am convinced it all started to go belly-up when Laura Roslin stopped dying. The sense that the show was going somewhere, that the writers had “a plan” started to unravel.
What I think happened is the miniseries & Season 1 were written ahead of time, before any filming started. Then, as the show started and gained momentum, it started turning into a soapie – the writers were writing to perpetuate the interpersonal dramas (the relationship between Starbuck & Apollo being the primary one, but there were many).
And if one looks at each season, a clear pattern emerges – the first few episodes were about digging the story out of the hole it’d dug at the end of the previous season. The best example of this is the whole New Caprica storyline. Humanity had stopped running and settled down, so the occupation and uprising had to be written to dig them out of the stagnation.
BSG held so much promise, and when it first appeared, it was the best thing on television. So much about the show still stands as brilliant – the soundtrack, the back-story, the characters, the cult-culture that goes along with it. Its weakness though was the quality of its writing. If that had been better, it would not have been one of the highlights of the last decade’s TV, but that standout series of television’s half-century.