I don't know if this is an appropriate thing to talk about on Memorial Day, but I love Battlestar Galactica. I haven't watched hardly any of Season 3, either. I was just watching Season 2 on DVD today, and rediscovering how great it is.
I love the allegories for everything. I love the tough-guy dialogues. ("Go go go!") I love Mary McDonnell as the sick stoned prophet president. I love that people are always dying and coming back to life. I love the zero-g Viper maneuvers in space. I love that Starbuck looks and acts kind of like the line producer on my movie. I love the battle between monotheism and polytheism. I love the political references to everything from Jack Ruby to the War on Terror. I love Grace Park for excelling in the most ridiculously complicated actor role ever written. (She's a human. She's an alien. She's in love. She's a spy. She's a prisoner of war. She's in a love triangle. She has Ethernet ports in her arm. She's happy, she's sad, she gets killed, and reincarnated, and pregnant, and gives birth to a messiah? And you thought you had issues?) I love it for exploring a militaristic culture without jingoistically championing it. I love that Baltar is basically motivated by sex. I love that they used the original "Battlestar" theme in the episode with the reality show made by Xena. I love how everyone's hair remains perfect. And, all pretensions aside, I love Big Things in Space Blowing Up.
Also, I readily admit to loving how much some people do not love it. But AFAIK it is the only good show on TV.
3 comments:
I love Battlestar Galactica. LOVE IT. But I also love The Wire. It doesn't happen in outer space, but East Baltimore may as well be outer space.
I also love Battlestar Galactica. I love how "Bolshevik" or "Dickhead" was replaced by the term "Cylon" around the apartment for a month or two back when. Yet it strikes me as essentially normal television; falling flat in most of its experiments, convincing a certain audience of its subversiveness while pleasing that audience with space-fighters. I'm also bothered by unintentionally regressive Science Fiction conceits. Cylons walk, talk, bleed, copulate, and emote constantly, yet somehow fly under the A.I. radar of a civilization of faster-than-light speed co-ed combat democrats.
Don't get me wrong. I'm no Cylon. I love Battlestar Galactica.
"Unintentionally regressive," ay? You are clearly a frakkin' Cylon. Walk the colonial line, bub.
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