Battlestar Galactica

But what did the 13th colony do to frack Earth up so completely? Some sort of nuclear holocaust occurred, sure, but this is “Battlestar” — the answer must lie in more mythic territory, something with false gods and temples and … damn dirty apes?

How about toasters, who haven’t really cleared their name as the damn dirty apes of the galaxy yet? Personally, I can’t help imagining some sort of standoff with the Centurians, whose evil-robot appearance makes them a good potential enemy moving forward, particularly now that the skinjobs have demonstrated their interest in peace. And Baltar — Baltar’s always at least partially culpable, isn’t he? He, not Starbuck, is the real harbinger of doom around here, what with his spiritually charged self-importance and his eagerness to lead his misguided followers anywhere his whims command. Even though Baltar soothed D’Anna into considering a peaceful resolution to her standoff with the fleet, his manipulation of the vulnerable colonists through grandiose religious theories is clearly dangerous, whether or not his intentions are pure. It’s easy enough to imagine that the brief conversation Baltar had with the Centurian on the base ship may have caused some kind of uprising — or it will in the future.

Of course, we have months to speculate about the destruction of Earth, so for now, let’s review some of the highlights of this riveting finale. The sense of foreboding began immediately, with Roslin instructing Bill Adama to destroy the base ship — and kill her and the other hostages — if the Cylons don’t cooperate. “If the Cylons get the four they get Earth; you can’t let this happen. Even if you have to blow this ship to hell!”

Meanwhile, Starbuck tells Lee Adama that Leoben had told her that “children are born to replace their parents. For children to reach their full potential, their parents have to die.” Uh-oh. Don’t kill Daddy Adama just yet! We’ve got 12 more episodes ahead.

Thankfully, Bill Adama didn’t actually die, but some big part of his faith in himself was dismantled when his best friend of 30 years, Saul Tigh, informed him that he was a Cylon and always has been (“I should’ve told you when I first found out, but I didn’t have the guts!”) We got a little flashback to the priceless-model-ship-crushing Bill Adama, but this time it was even worse: In his rage, Adama wrecked his office, swilled liquor, punched his fist into the mirror, and moaned “There is no Earth!” until his son and true love Laura Roslin had to intervene. This is Adama at his lowest point ever; his identity and all of his firmest beliefs have been shattered, and if the colonists are going to navigate this crisis without getting the entire fleet killed, someone needs to man up in a big way.

Enter Lee Adama, looking calm and presidential and hitting his highest point as he sets to work lining up Saul Tigh’s risky gambit: Release the hostages, Cylons, or we’ll throw one of your own out the air lock! Any other character besides Tigh would’ve been panicking, but after so many months of self-loathing over discovering he was a Cylon, Tigh is more than anxious for a chance to prove his loyalty to the fleet, even if that means dying for the cause. But then again, Tigh has always had a bit of the anxious martyr in him: Macho self-sacrifice for the future of the colonists is as important to his belief system as temples and ancient myths are to the others. When Lee looks Saul in his one good eye and prepares to kill him in the most dramatic fashion imaginable (now we know why the perils of death-by-airlock were demonstrated so grotesquely for us with Callie), Tigh stands straight up and gives him a look that says, “Go ahead and do it, gods-damn it!”

But the mutual destruction of Cylons and humans is narrowly averted when Starbuck runs in to tell Lee and the others that her viper is pointing the way to Earth. Apparently the ship has been picking up a colonial distress signal that the other ships can’t discern, and that signal leads the way to the 13th colony. Finally, we see a little raw joy and celebration among the fleet. (The writers of “Lost” could take a few pointers from these scenes: For viewers who’ve withstood several seasons of unrelenting darkness, a moment of real happiness goes a long way.) Deckhands kiss! Chief Tyrol sits alone in his cramped quarters, hugging his toddler! (Sniff!) Starbuck tells a photo of Kat on the memory wall, “We made it, kid!” Lee Adama jumps up and throws his jacket off like a drunken frat boy!

And minutes later, there’s Earth! Ah, that big blue marble looks so good, after the increasingly dark, claustrophobic, sanity-crushing downward spiral the colonists have been on this season. The fleet’s ships bump along through the Earth’s atmosphere. What will they experience first? The lush, green forests of the Amazon? The breathtaking mountain ranges of New Zealand? What will the inhabitants of Earth say to the colonists? “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been waiting for you to find us for decades now!” Or maybe “Welcome to McDonald’s. May I take your order please?”

Alas, there were no green mountain ranges or majestic rushing rivers to admire, just the smoldering ashes of Lower Manhattan. Amazing, isn’t it, how time travelers and intergalactic voyagers alike all seem to land in New York City?

While the teasers told us over and over again that “all will be revealed,” here we are on a radioactive landscape, with more questions than answers. How did this happen? Where is the final member of the final five, and was he or she somehow involved in the destruction of Earth? Could there still be a happy ending for the colonists, somewhere down the line?

Isn’t it pretty to think so?

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Likewise “Caprica,” SyFy’s much-anticipated “Battlestar Galactica” prequel, suffers from the awkward starting block of presenting “the burgeoning technology of artificial intelligence and robotics that will eventually lead to the creation of the Cylons,” but it’s also charged with exploring the same looming questions that “Battlestar” did over the course of its run. This means that, not only does every plot point of “Caprica” feel like a big, obvious explanation for the far more compelling original (“So that’s how the Cylons were created to think for themselves!” “Ah, that’s why the Cylons are monotheistic!”), but the whole thing is stuffed with the worst sorts of flashy but skin-deep characters. Here’s a rebellious teenager with delusions of grandeur, an arrogant, heartbroken father turning to technology to cure his grief, a working-class girl hungering for some way to belong, a nurturing nun who’s also a drug addict.

Feeling dizzy yet? Sure, as with the “Star Wars” prequel, there are plenty of provocative scenes to pull you in, whether it’s a Cylon prototype blowing up smaller robots with merciless efficiency (I don’t recall the Centurions from “Battlestar” being such good shots) or two fathers, Daniel Graystone and Joseph Adama, reunited (in a virtual world) with their poor, dead daughters. We know by now that creators Ronald D. Moore and David Eick are skillful at translating their groovy story ideas into compelling, emotionally wrenching snapshots of anguish or ominous portrayals of arrogance and bluster among the ruling elite. We also know that they’ll weave in heavy-handed commentary on class, race, gender, religion, politics and anything else that might lend this soapy robot circus more intellectual flair and street cred.

On “Battlestar Galactica” these elements usually felt organic, like another smart layer to complement an already full plate of suspense, action and the emotional reverberations and post-traumatic shock befitting the wake of a nuclear holocaust. But on “Caprica,” hearing the same echoes of meaning sort of feels like seeing Yoda fly: It’s cool and everything, but it’s also out of step with our understanding of him. Basically, we want Yoda bickering with R2D2 on swampy Dagoba, not leaping through the air or playing preschool teacher to a bunch of saucer-eyed “younglings.”

And just as we knew the damn younglings were going to get slaughtered the second they ambled adorably into the picture, we recognize early on that Zoe (Alessandra Torresani), with her big, pretty Zooey Deschanel look-alike face and her genius brain and her girly, foot-stomping alienation, is going to use her talents for evil rather than good. She hangs out in a virtual club where people virtually slaughter each other for fun and entertainment, after all. Or are we just prejudiced against the sensationalistic hobbies of this younger generation?

See how everything in “Caprica” reverberates with the most irritatingly primitive social commentary? Maybe this kind of button-pushing — Terrorist teens! Sexy murder/dance club! Criminal underworlds! Thoughtful robots! — was present in the “Battlestar” series, and we were just too distracted by the gigantic spaceships and look-alike robot spies to mind. Maybe it was the weight of the nuclear holocaust, looming at the edges of every frame, that legitimized the soapiness of “Battlestar.” All I know is, now that we’re on Caprica, “58 years before the fall,” i.e., the nuclear attack by the Cylons, the story feels like the worst sort of retread: “Caprica” has few of the charms of the original series, and because it’s a prequel, it doesn’t even further the story. We’re forced to rewind to a time that’s less weighty and less intriguing, yet everyone is walking around talking to each other in the same over-the-top heavy tones that made sense within the claustrophobic confines of “Galactica” but just feel unnecessarily melodramatic here. Not only does every line feel too obvious, but it’s tripped up by clumsy back story. It’s as if we’re being treated to some bullet-pointed character profile where key traits are highlighted, circled and underlined three times.

“You have no idea what it means to build something, or to work hard for anything! It’s all just been handed to you, Zoe!” says Zoe’s mom (Polly Walker).

“We come from a long, proud line of Tauron peasants!” Joseph Adama (Esai Morales) tells his son (Sina Najafi). “You’re named after your grandfather, I ever tell you that? William. He was killed after the Tauron uprising.”

“Let’s be clear. I don’t like your boss, I don’t like your planet, and I don’t like your people!” a high-level government official practically spits at Joseph Adama.

“Blood for blood!” Sam (Sasha Roiz) says to his brother, Joseph. “It’s the Tauron way!”

“You mean only the gods have power over death? Well, I reject that notion!” says Daniel Graystone (Eric Stoltz), Zoe’s father and the head of the company that’s working on creating the Cylons.

“When did you ever listen? You and Mom, you knew it all!” Zoe’s avatar says to Daniel. “Your arrogance was killing your daughter!”

It was easy to take issue with those who called “Battlestar” foolish: There was so much suspense and action and political intrigue in the mix that a few dippy scenes where Starbuck and Lee made googoo eyes at each other or Six and Baltar debated the meaning of life for the 50th time were tolerable. Somehow the same clunky philosophizing and heartfelt confessions fall flat in “Caprica.” Although the second and third episodes of the prequel are a little more intriguing and less gummed up with melodrama than the pilot, the overall picture is a world apart from the dynamism and intensity of “Battlestar.”

When grieving daddies first try to reunite virtually with their dead daughters, then become enemies, when monotheist nuns hatch eeevil plans and Cylons all but scribble in their diaries about their no-good very-bad days, it’s hard not to wish that we could pick up in the hopelessly cheesy spot we left “Battlestar” instead, with Bill Adama making a happy little Cro-Magnon family on the planet Earth. As Daniel Graystone and Joseph Adama know all too well, sometimes anything is better than trying to recapture the past. 

 ”Virtuality” offers exactly the sort of story that “Galactica” fans will sink their teeth into. As Earth is ravaged by global warming and is rapidly becoming unlivable, a small crew aboard the starship Phaeton begins its 10-year mission to find a habitable planet orbiting a nearby star. Conditions on board the ship are beyond claustrophobic (how Galactican!) after just a few months: Couples bicker, young crew members second-guess themselves, personalities clash, a crew member falls ill, and the commander of the ship begins to lose control. To make matters worse (far worse, in fact), the entire crew is being filmed for a reality show, so they navigate the pressure cooker of ship life knowing that their worst (and most private) moments are being broadcast to viewers back home.

 In order to offer a reprieve from the tireless strain of their mission, crew members are provided with virtual reality devices that allow them to star in their own fantasies. But when some mysterious malevolent force invades this one last respite from the confined drudgery of ship life, interpersonal relations on the Phaeton begin to deteriorate in earnest. We can feel it: Tensions are rising to the point that they’re beginning to endanger everyone on board.

 And then, just when things start to get really interesting, the so-called movie is over. Remember how some of the very best episodes of “Battlestar Galactica” ended with truly breathtaking cliffhangers? Well, “Virtuality” is just like that, only it’s not a series, it’s a stand-alone movie. Guess you’ll have to wait forever to find out what happens next!

 But the fact that there are no real answers to the mysteries set up here is only the tip of the iceberg. We’re presented with stories and characters that are quite clearly meant to be explored over the course of a season, which makes the whole thing feel, very palpably, like an utter waste of time. Essentially, “Virtuality” is a two-hour-long teaser, an extended trip to a really excellent strip bar that ends with a cold shower. Unless you’re a masochist, the flash of credits will make your heart sink.

 Of course, many die-hard “Galactica” fans will be interested in watching in order to advocate that the series get picked up by Fox. And it’s true, as a pilot, “Virtuality” is fantastic. Why wasn’t it picked up in the first place? Cool tricks, heavy drama, clever dialogue, twists and turns — what more could you want from a space soap, anyway?

 Maybe the real question is, why torture us with what might have been? Why air a two-hour pilot that only works as a pilot, with a cliffhanger ending that’s sure to piss off more than a few casual viewers thinking they just tuned in for, well, for an actual movie, with an actual ending? Those who watch without realizing that “Virtuality” is a pilot (that was never conceived as anything but a pilot) will think that they’ve suffered through a TV movie with serious art film delusions of grandeur — in a bad way.

 But then, maybe Fox is airing “Virtuality” to motivate “Galactica” fans to do all the marketing work for them. When asked if Fox will pick up the show, Moore told IESB.net, “I think they want to see what the reaction is going to be … Right now, it doesn’t look like it’s going to series, but if enough people watched and got excited about it, anything is possible.” Is this all just a savvy publicity scheme? Do Fox executives already love this series in secret, and they’re just setting us up to believe that an outpouring of fan support forced them to add it to their schedule? Or has an increasingly manipulative world of viral marketing rendered us hopelessly paranoid?

 Ultimately, airing “Virtuality” will either look like a smart publicity maneuver or a really bad programming choice, depending on how many viewers rally behind the cause. As usual, Fox will let the fans decide.