Okay. I am a total spoiler whore. To the point where Mr. A will barely watch TV with me because I’ll say, “Oh, don’t bother getting attached to her, she dies three episodes from now” or “You think that episode was good? Wait till you see next week’s!” It has to do with me being a control freak and also needing to prepare myself; deaths/frackings-over of characters in shows I take too personally tend to wreck me for a couple of days and I generally don’t have that kind of time. Lessons The West Wing Teaches You, Vol. I.
But I am telling you, honestly. I don’t care how big a spoiler whore you are. Do not, under any circumstances, read the enclosed post if you haven’t seen the episode. Trust me on this, and restrain your damn selves. You need to see this cold.
First, my customary bit of praise for Jacob.
Is this what it would be like if you did all the drugs at once? My goodness. Battlestar Galactica just called, and it said that it’s sorry you can’t peel yourself off the screen. 49,579 souls in the Fleet and I don’t even care to do the math right now! More show!
Now, the ep. When I need a pacemaker at age 31, it will be all Moore’s fault.
Oh, the humanity. Literally. Humanity in the form of Cally, and her forgiveness. In the form of Starbuck, and her steadfast finger on the trigger through the crack in the wall. In the form of Sharon, and her righteous toaster rage and selfish grief. In the form of Laura, and her horror at what she watched herself do. In the form of Cottle, who even in the face of a world turned upside down, went from person to person, healing, to the very limits of his leathery soul.
(If we must do character episodes, can we not do Cottle? I want to know his whole story, every last redemption-soaked detail. Nobody’s that bitter who hasn’t paid for it.)
In the form of Helo, trying to fix what had gone wrong with Sharon, and so utterly unable to do so, every father I’ve ever known. In the form of Baltar who’s never known what he wants nor had to make a decision, because that’s what happens when you’re a Golden Boy Genius, people just give you this life and it’s laid out for you. In the form of lovely, vengeful, fracked-up Gina, who was blaze after blaze of glory for cause after mistaken, doomed cause, and disillusioned by it all. In the form of Adama, and Roslin, and their mutual disappointment and certainty and the tension in that scene that makes you hold your breath. In the form of Lee, whose gait was so like his father’s in the last scene, and what a perfect detail, what a perfect circle: down the hall and around the corner they go, each to each, all of this has happened before and all of it will happen again. Human, persistent, human, mistaken, human, human, human, all of them.
Moore’s last half hour was a head-frack, truly, and here’s what it is: tell the same story, change the circumstances, and you see the viciousness of Laura’s first-season choice. She left people to die, and now is left. It’s still the story of humanity trying to survive, and repeating its mistakes, and the Cylons figuring themselves out, and repeating theirs. All of this has happened before. All of this will happen again.
You see this all differently, and having watched the show beginning to end, having watched and hurt and breathed with Starbuck it’s like a rug burn, the way it takes her two seconds, that little, to snap back to her position at the crack in the wall, her finger on the trigger. I had to rewind and watch it again, that moment, the way her shoulders stiffen and her face goes flat (Katee Sackhoff is a fantastic actress) and she was an exasperated wife begging for mercy a moment ago, and now she is what she is meant to be, and it’s beautiful, and horrible, and perfect. If this turns out to be Baltar’s dream as he passes out on his desk, I will scream, and I don’t care where you are, you’ll hear it.
OCTOBER? It’s so not fair.