“Battlestar Galactica” is perhaps the smartest and most comprehensive artistic meditation on life in post-9/11 America that exists in all of popular culture. Also, it has sexy robots, which is pretty awesome.
OK, OK, I know I sound like some kind of sci-fi fanboy who secretly wishes his wife were a Vulcan. And that’s not entirely unfair. It’s easy to dismiss me. And it’s also easy to dismiss a show that has its roots in the 1970s, Dirk Benedict and feathered hair. But today’s “Battlestar Galactica” is not yesterday’s “Battlestar Galactica.” Yes, they share a name and a premise — the last remnants of humanity flee a genocidal race of robots in search of Earth. But where the former opted to use that premise as a launching pad for Trek-lite “adventure of the week” excursions to the Casino Planet and sexy fun, the newer show is gritty, dark and maybe a little bit fatalistic. In a good way. The result has been praise from lots of non-genre quarters — a Peabody Award, a perch atop Time Magazine’s “best shows” list, and obsessive examination from the likes of Jonah Goldberg and Spencer Ackerman.
It’s a crime this show hasn’t been nominated for a major Emmy. It’ll have to settle, instead, for being one of the greatest shows of all time.
But let’s go back to the beginning. You can get a recap of the whole series in the eight-minute video above, or maybe check out this overview from Salon. The series opens with, essentially, the end of the human race — the robot race of Cylons mounts a nuclear attack on the 12 human homeworlds. There are fewer than 50,000 survivors, spread out among a “ragtag” fleet, led by President Laura Roslyn (Mary McDonnell) and Admiral William Adama (Edward James Olmos, in all his quietly gravelly voiced glory).
The robots don’t look like robots, though. They look like humans — really attractive humans. And the humans have no problems with torturing and murdering what Cylons they find in their midst — because the enemy, after all, is just a soulless killing machine undeserving of the same moral respect that humans might give each other. Sound familiar?
But these Cylons, it becomes clear, have feelings and ambitions. They believe in God. They bicker among themselves And over time, some of them choose to help the humans. And the humans — some of them, anyway — choose to give those few Cylons a bit of grudging trust.
The humans, by the way, don’t look anything like the perfect (and boring) people we saw in “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” Some of them are drunks. Some of them make morally suspect choices; all of them make horrible personal choices. And when they’re cornered by theCylons and put under occupation, some of them choose to strap on a bomb vest and go blow themselves up in a public square crowded with the robot enemy. Again: Sound familiar? Who, exactly should we be rooting for here?
Along the way, the crew of the Galactica wrestle with whether abortion should be allowed — the species needs to grow again, after all. They have to decide if democracy is compatible with war fighting. They have to decide whether to forgive each other for the sins they have committed. There are moments when you detect a conservative sensibility at work; others when it seems that liberals are running the show. Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, though, something comes along to upset your perspective.
At the end of Season Three, in fact, Lee Adama — the admiral’s son — gives a rousing courtroom speech. Everybody, he says, has committed awful mistakes in the course of trying to survive the end of the human race. But those sins should be forgiven, he suggests, because everybody is trying their best in the face of unspeakable evil. Left and right, we all need to give each other a little grace.
This is profoundly human stuff that disregards the typical black hat/white hat template that dominates so much of our movies and television drama. It’s difficult to graft onto the real world and our considerations, say, of John Yoo’s memo saying the president has the authority to authorize “harsh interrogations.” And the truth is: “Battlestar Galactica,” despite that season-ending speech, doesn’t offer many easy answers. But better than any other show in prime time — with the possible exception of “Lost” — it is asking all the right questions.
This review is strikingly accurate in that you have located Battlestar as a show representative of an epoch, and for more reasons than one, some of which I must elaborate on.
The thing that a “foreigner” notices about this show is that it’s very American (which I guess makes sense, seeing as it is both made in America and about an American war. But anyway…) which, to me, highlights the thing that is most striking about American political discourse (whether fictional or actual.) I’m from New Zealand, and it can be quite interesting looking in on the war and the political climate (which we have to do, if only because our own government keeps on threatening to join in) and noticing how everything that is said rests on patriotism – basically, that everyone has an idea of America that they are faithful to and wish to maintain. Leftists say that the war is destroying America. Rightists say that if they don’t fight the war terrorists will destroy America. Nobody talks about ethics. They don’t discuss whether this is an ethical path for the human race or as individual humans. Rather, they discuss America, always with the base assumption that there is something about America which is inherently important by virtue of its being America, and they discuss which of the Imaginary Americas is the best idea.
I do notice this in Battlestar too, which makes it all the more compelling for me in terms of its War-On-Terroryness. Often I find that the most untrustworthy characters are those who don’t at all believe in maintaining the Colonial way of life from before the attack. For everyone else, it is a question of the best idea about Colonial life, the best way of maintaining the society. Not deliberately changing it, as they now have ample opportunity to do (for good or for ill), but instead attempting to locate and then enact the truest ideals of Colonial life. I actually did a double take when Roslin pitched that settlement postponement deal to Baltar: “I’m appealing to your sense of patriotism,” Roslin said. I remember Baltar replying “my sense of patriotism is just fine, thank you.” I was thinking “seriously? Two people actually sit down and talk about patriotism?” It was very foreign to me, to the point where I even wondered if patriotism has a different meaning in the United States, something more akin to “humanity”, or “morality.”
It’s very different where I’m from. Our political rhetorics are far more about smoothing over problems and encouraging each other not to rock the boat than they are about polarising and exciting. (I’m sure you can imagine how our smoothing rhetoric can be just as problematic and dangerous as the alternative. Well, rest assured, because it can.) The discourse of patriotism is much rarer (except in relation to sporting events, naturally.) People often talk about there being such a thing as a “typical kiwi” or a “mainstream New Zealander”, but the hip liberal attitude tends to be to make fun of New Zealand. I suspect part of our rhetoric might be that patriotism is hidden in both these ideas. Anyway…
Hmm, what I wrote sounds critical – I totally forgot to mention in the above that I totally love the show. I mean, it’s not just sexy robots, but sexy robot threesomes. Sexy robot threesomes which are complex and character driven. I believe I’ve died and gone to narrative heaven.