Battlestar Music: That’s It, EXACTLY
My husband G. Grod sold me on Heather Havrilesky’s TV columns from Salon.com when he said “She’s the Dara Moskowitz of television reporting!” That’s a very high compliment in our house. I feel bad that HH has to watch so much bad tv in order to review it. But I really enjoy reading about even the shows I DON’T watch.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the song reveal on the Battlestar Galactica finale till I read this. She wrote it better, and funnier, than I could have. So read, even if you don’t watch Battlestar; her writing is very good, and perhaps you will laugh, as I did.
(SPOILER ALERT: Details of “Battlestar Galactica” finale included in this column.)
Life is but a joke
And speaking of oddly placed songs, let’s get to the main event: Sunday night’s “Battlestar Galactica” finale. I was on board for this one from the start: I loved Lee Adama’s heartfelt speech at Baltar’s trial, particularly after he spent most of this season mooning and pouting and just generally acting like a petulant baby, loved the creepy music and the fact that Anders, Chief Tyrol, Tigh and Tory (Roslin’s press secretary) were the only ones who could hear it, loved the growing suspicion that they were all Cylons (Who better to be a Cylon, than Tigh?), loved the power outages and the mounting suspense… Yes, this was a finale that anyone could get behind.
Maybe it was a stretch to make so many longstanding characters Cylons, but maybe they just think that they’re Cylons. Who knows? Most importantly, it all felt momentous, big changes were clearly afoot, changes that didn’t involve any temples or empty stand-offs with the Cylons or adulterous affairs. Last night’s finale had me by the throat. And then…
Chief Tyrol: There must be some kinda way outta here.
Tigh: Said the joker to the thief.
Anders: There’s too much confusion here.
Tory: I can’t get no relief!
Oh my God! My stoner boyfriend from high school wrote the season finale of “Battlestar Galactica”!
How did that happen? Why did Ronald D. Moore take a break and hand over responsibility for the finale to a guy who spent most of his time doing shots of Bacardi 151 Rum and noodling Hendrix on his guitar? Was that wise, really? Didn’t Moore realize that my ex would make Bob Dylan the Cylon God?
Can you believe it? This is science fiction, it’s pure made-up, imaginary, insane fantasy, the sky’s the limit, you can do whatever you want, and you do whatever you want, and it’s working, for the most part, and you want to take a little break from that to indulge your jones for Dylan? It’s worth it to you, to alienate the vast majority of your audience at the end of your finale, just to reference a pretty cool song that, frankly, no longer seems all that cool since most of us have heard it, oh, fifty million times in the last 20 years?
When I heard those lyrics, all I could think was: Wow, I was way too hard on “The L Word.”
Oh yeah, and Starbuck’s still alive. I almost forgot.