(*Please allow my profuse apologies for the massive frakkin' delay of this review. Refer to the comments section for further explanation. And be advised, the pictures are courtesy of GalacticaBBS.com)
Goodbye, Battlestar Galactica! Goodbye, Cylons that are the Creative Team! Thank you for the inspired, thought-provoking, profound, and heroic journey. You will be sorely missed.
The greatest achievement of Battlestar Galactica was in its ability to ask questions so fundamentally theoretical in nature and have the courage to not offer answers. It is basic human nature to question ourselves and the world around in an effort to assess our path in life -- What if I had taken that road? What if I had made that phone call? What if I had stolen that election? What if I hadn't given up my seat on the raptor? What if I was the last human being on Earth? -- and most of those questions with which we present ourselves have no answers. It's frustrating and maddening, but it's life at its most basic. Human beings strive for that which is tangible and concrete as a matter of control and as an attempt to make sense out seemingly random events. But so much of life cannot be explained, and it is only through our acceptance and our ability to make peace with the mystery that we are truly afforded the opportunity to live.
"Today is a new beginning for all of us. We share a unique destiny, but our future is ours to shape and our past cannot be forgotten. A new day requires new thinking..." -- President Laura Roslin in "Collaborators"
Laura Roslin imparted to us the end of this journey long ago. All we had to do was listen. Clearly, "Daybreak---Parts 2+3" present to us that there is some divine intervention at work, but the true nature of a transcendental being (or beings) is unknowable. The enigmas that were the Head characters are proof of this -- are they angels? Are they demons? Are they messengers? Are they guides? Are they all of the above? In my opinion, they are the latter. They are the representations of the war within all of us -- the desires towards betterment and the instincts that entrap us. They offer their wisdom (and play Devil's Advocate) with the hope that we'll use the knowledge wisely and "break the cycle". And given the ending, it appears that we have. As I said in my "Daybreak---Part 1" review, dynasties have risen and fallen throughout history on the heels of war, stemming from an ignorance of or a refusal to accept something that is considered "the other". We've seen our fair share of man-made calamities (9/11, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Chernobyl, and Fall of the Roman Empire to name a few), but thus far we're still standing. Despite our best efforts, our world endures. And the best of this rag-tag fleet, human and Cylon alike, lives on in all of us.
The idea that these characters are our progenitors is quite inspirational, actually. With their destinies fully-realized, we see that every member of the higher echelon had a very distinct role to play:
- Galactica = Protector
- Adama = Savior
- Roslin = Leader
- Kara = Guide
- Baltar/Caprica = Messengers
- Final Five = Healers
- Lee = Voice of Reason
All of those roles and the qualities that they represent linger in humanity as we know it. Helo and Athena, through their love that transcended self-imposed boundaries and limitations, gave humanity a gift in Hera -- a chance for a better life that includes the best of both races. We are the amalgamation. And it works.
Starbuck was once told by a Hybrid that she was the "herald of the apocalypse, the harbinger of death" and that she "would lead humanity to its end". She did all that and more. Starbuck had been to Earth 1.0 and would have seen the apocalypse that had consumed it. She died on the land, but was resurrected to return to the fleet and guide them to their new home. Without Kara and her ability to take the necessary leap of faith to log Hera's coordinates in the FTL drive, the fleet would have never discovered Earth 2.0. The journey would have continued, Galactica would have fallen apart, provisions would have run out, and humanity would have never reached their destined "end". Earth 2.0 marked the end of their journey, and it was there that humanity in its purest form would cease to exist and a new race of hybrids would be created. Without Kara, whatever she may be, life would have died with humanity. I don't need a firm answer to what Starbuck is because I know who she is. She is this world's saving grace.
This world... called Earth. Earth 1.0 was Earth as well. It was the 13th Colony's version of Earth. Earth 2.0 is the fleet's incarnation of our planet. The journey was never about finding the one, true Earth -- if there even is one. It was always about being "in search of a home... called Earth". Earth is a dream made into reality and it will only ever be what we make it. After the seemingly endless nightmare that they had amazingly lived through, as Adama said, they earned it. They earned the dream. The dream called Earth.
The raft was not as seaworthy as I'd hoped. The waves repeatedly threatened to swamp it. I wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid of the emptiness that I felt inside. I couldn't feel anything. And that's what scared me. You came into my thoughts. I felt them. It felt good. -- Searider Falcon
Over the course of their harrowing journey, Bill Adama and Laura Roslin quietly fell in love. As individuals, initially, they were empty shells of the people that they had the potential to be. Together, in the end, they were each one half of a whole. Laura's life on Caprica illustrated a devastating loss unimaginable to most that served as a catalyst for a life of service. In an effort to fill the emptiness, she gave back. But the more she worked for the greater good, the more she lost sight of herself and the less she lived. It was only in the eyes of Bill Adama -- a man, at once, with only one stable relationship that gave him any sense of pride or dignity (the military) -- that she was able to see reflected the remarkable woman who walked in her shoes. And it was through him and with him wherein she was able to live again. For a show so committed to seeing through the darkest hours, it was remarkably fitting and poetic that the fleet's great leader took her last breath uttering, "So much life..." She was leaving her people, but not before she finished what she had set out to do. "All the way to the end -- no matter what. All the way to the end." Her people -- Bill, Lee & Kara, the fleet -- were now home. They were now -- finally -- at peace. Her loss of so long ago was finally redeemed. She could go.
Redemption can be found in the most interesting places. And retribution can come when it's least expected. Tory chose to coldly and callously murder an innocent such as Cally to protect the secret of the Final Four. And she never paid a price. Life went on for her as if nothing happened. So it was karmic justice that Tyrol discovered her brutal crime and saw fit to snap her neck as payback. Tory had it coming... and we cheered. Boomer, on the other hand, was deserving of punishment many times over and never quite got it. But Boomer's existence was all about choices -- not in making the right or wrong choice, but in making any decision born of free will at all. Boomer was a puppet who could never quite break the strings -- until she broke Simon's neck. In that one defining moment, Boomer finally made her choice and it was, in fact, the correct one. It was necessary for her to pay for her crimes as well -- with her sister, Athena, as her judge and jury -- but in making her decision, she found redemption. Boomer had allowed herself to die with dignity... and we wept.
"Destiny" is a funny thing. It begs the idea that we are not free to be our true selves. That no matter what "choices" we make, we end up in the same place in the end. Having a destiny seems to mean having no life. But "free will" is a funny thing too. While we draw breath, we must face a series of forks in the roads throughout our lifetime, and it is in our decisions -- whether right at the time or not -- that we find our true path. The big picture isn't known until the end of our journey, so those choices must be made. And they must be done so with a consciousness of the here and now. These characters instilled that in us. Kara -- a woman of abuse prone to hard-drinking and foul language and a poor personal life -- chose to trust the song and thus completed her journey. Baltar -- a man wrapped in self-preservation, arrogance, and a great need for betterment at the expense of his upbringing -- chose to stay with the volunteers and fight the good fight and in turn inspired pride in Caprica and once and for all, embraced God. Laura -- a woman hollow and broken and keenly focused on the task at hand -- chose to fight for her remaining life until she could see her people settled and at rest. Bill -- a man fueled by stubbornness and alcohol and dreams of a grander service -- chose to sacrifice his home and ally himself with beings once thought of as the enemy to save a little girl and give humanity a chance. With all of these choices made in the present, destinies converged and the master plan took shape. The shape of things to come.
"When you step on this deck, you be ready to fight, or you dishonor the reason why we're here. Now remember this: When you fight a man, he's not your friend. Same goes when you lead men. I forgot that once. I let you get too close, all of you. I dropped my guard. I gave some of you breaks, let some of you go, before the fight was really over. I let this crew and this family disband, and we paid the price in lives. That can't happen again." -- Admiral William Adama in "Unfinished Business"
Much of this finale was polarizing -- as it should have been -- as it capped off a highly ambitious and controversial series. The network often said it was too dark, but its ability to view the despair and the devastation of the human condition is what made it so fundamentally... human. I largely reveled in the funereal tone, but it was the bursts of hope that comforted me. In the end, some have said that the outcome of the fleet was too hopeful, but I saw it differently. I was left with an overwhelming sense of melancholy. Whether or not these, no doubt, very exhausted people had taken their resources with them across the planet, it's clear that they would only survive a short time. It's one thing to dream, but it's another thing entirely to adapt. Technology could only get them so far without running water and electricity -- and the supply of their provisions was dire -- so would they have really wanted to spend the rest of their lives working and building a replica of the home that was destroyed as a means of teaching humanity a lesson only to pass on before their jobs were complete? Furthermore, many balk at the idea of Bill walking away from his son, but that outcome was inevitable. Bill said so himself. He would live in exile building Laura's cabin, and upon completion he would die quietly of a broken heart. "Because I can't live without her." And while it further saddens me to think of the "family" as fractured and scattered, it was necessary. Should another apocalyptic event come along, humanity stood a better chance of survival if they were spread out. Because, after all, the war was over and now was the time to "start having babies".
Random thrills...
- Laura Roslin, once and for all, thanking Doc Cottle. Roslin's tears were expected, but to see such fervent emotion coming from the crustiest bastard of them all? Priceless. He would never admit it, but he loved and admired her dearly, and he might have given his own life to save hers. He certainly gave her his time.
"You've done much more than that. You've taken a patient who should've died years ago, and you've given her a chance. Despite cancer, and the Cylons, and her own obstinate nature. And you've... you've given me the little time I have left. And for that, you... you have my heartfelt gratitude. And my thanks. (pause) No no, don't. Don't. Don't spoil your image. Just light a cigarette, and go, and grumble." -- Laura Roslin
- Admiral Hoshi and President Lampkin? Genius. While Hoshi finally got his due -- for a few brief moments -- Romo was a surprise. And actually, I worry for the fleet with Romo as President, seeing as he's largely mentally unsound. But really, who else was there?
- The image of Centurion vs. Centurion during the battle with The Colony was mesmerizing. (The entire frakkin' battle was, really.) Centurions really do have free will and like so many others, they chose their sides. They didn't operate as a breed -- they ruled as individuals. And seeing the Centurions come into their own and inherit the Basestar was surprisingly touching. Two-thousand-plus years as slaves and they finally become masters of their own domain.
- I spoke of redemption above and I'm now reminded of Racetrack's redemption. She lost a lot of favor when she turned her back on Adama and allied herself with Zarek and Gaeta during the mutiny, but in her final act, she gave her life for the security of the fleet and went down with her raptor while nuking the Colony. Brava, Racetrack! And thank you.
- I was originally jarred by Cavil's suicide but ultimately it made sense. Cavil knew that his time was up and there was no way out, so instead of falling at the hand of any one person he thought to be far inferior to him, he decided to die by the hand of the one person he truly loved -- himself.
- The deaths of Cavil, Simon, and Doral were born out of a misunderstanding with Cavil thinking that the Final Five offering resurrection was just a ploy. Tyrol's discovery of Tory's deception occurred at the precise moment where Cavil's faith was wavering. Interesting, considering that the Fall of the Colonies was also born out of a Cylon misunderstanding as it were. In the beginning, the Cylons believed that God told them that their "parents had to die for children to come into their own". Over time, with growth and maturity, half of them came to realize that they had been wrong. Misunderstandings, while minor in the moment, can cause major catastophes.
- Is it a coincidence that the most prominent Cylon was Number Six and in the end, there were only six models left standing -- Ellen, Tigh, Tyrol, Caprica, Athena, and Leoben (though we didn't see him, unfortunately)?
- The Opera House with all of its protectors of Hera as a visual metaphor for Galactica, the protector of them all, was stunning. Down to the Final Five there to watch over Hera. D'Anna once apologized to the Five for, I think, participating in the attempted decimation of humanity. The Five knew better. They knew that humanity was vital to civilization, thus why they were the most human of all the Cylons. I never quite understood the key players of the Opera House until the big reveal. Those four people were the lynch-pins of Hera's creation and her destiny. The woman who gave her life (Athena), the most brilliant mind attached to the man who would replace her father on the raptor (Baltar), the woman who orchestrated the affair that would lead to her creation (Caprica), and the first of humanity who she would save (Roslin). Hera was the "shape of things to come" and she took shape aboard Galactica.
- Finally, the music. I've long since thought of Bear McCreary as a musical poet, but he outdid himself with "Daybreak---Parts 2+3". From "Wander My Friends" playing over Bill walking the vacant flight deck before launching "Husker" to the 70's Theme accompanying Galactica and the rest of the ships as Sam flew them into the sun to Jimi Hendrix, in all his full glory, singing "All Along the Watchtower" over Times Square to "Roslin and Adama" ushering out the most beautiful mature love story of our time and capping the emotional end of this journey. Bear gave the audience a gift in this music and its beats and swells won't soon be forgotten.
This review is evidently largely positive, but fear not. I did have a few minor reservations. While he should be lauded up one way and down the other for "re-imagining" this incredible series, Ron Moore's cameo during the epilogue was a major distraction. I went from tears and mouth agape to, "Oh, look!" and I didn't like it. And speaking of distraction, the much-too-obvious and heavy-handed imagery of the Times Square robots kept me out of the moment even longer. We know that technology, should it be misused, has the potential to turn on us, but the beauty of this show was in its subtlety and its sly observations. Being hit over the head with the message was unnecessary, and frankly, a little condescending. Also unnecessary was Kara and Lee's ill-timed and classless almost-liaison. It has always been abundantly clear that Kara and Lee both loved Zak completely. Zak's death was often a major source of contention between them rooted in that very fact. So, drunk or not, to see them nearly have sex on the dining room table while Zak slept mere feet away was vulgar. And I'm not too convinced that they wouldn't have stopped had Zak not stirred at the glass breaking. While I understand that the flashbacks stood as evidence of the choices that the characters made that put them on their destined paths, this was one choice that left me with a severely bad taste in my mouth. More so than Bill's drunken vomiting. In all, minor recriminations, but recriminations nonetheless. Because, after all, not even the great Battlestar Galactica is perfect. It's dirty and gritty and harsh. And that's how we liked it.
"Just so there'll be no misunderstandings later, Galactica's seen a lot of history... gone through a lot of battles. This will be her last. She will not fail us if we do not fail her. If we succeed in our mission, Galactica will bring us home. If we don't, it doesn’t matter anyway." -- Admiral William Adama
Admiral, rest assured, Galactica did not fail us. Not at all.
And with that, the exceptional Battlestar Galactica has come to the end of her journey. May she forever shine down upon us, offering her wisdom, magic, and poetry. And with great gratitude we say, one final time...
So say we all.
Follow the yellow brick road...
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