The Queen and I got together in no small part because of Battlestar Galactica. We were longtime friends, and on one particular Saturday she was over to hang out. She spent the morning reading on my couch while I sat in front of the computer, working on the rock documentary series I used to write. Once I was done and we’d hit a local diner for some lunch, we debated how to spend the rest of our day. I suggested we watch the first season of Battlestar Galactica, which had recently been released on DVD. Having not seen it during its initial run, the Queen agreed. We spent the afternoon and into the evening watching that first season. We watched Edward James Olmos’ Adama take command of the fleet. We watched as the amazing Mary McDonnell’s Laura Roslin went from schoolteacher to president of the surviving colonies. Together we were introduced to Katee Sackhoff’s Starbuck, a far cry from the one first embodied by Dirk Benedict all those years ago. By the end of our day, and the end of the first season, we knew there was something special going on, both on screen and off.
I liked Michael Hogan’s Saul Tigh, a drunkard with morals and undying loyalty to both the ship and its captain. I loved the performances from the four hidden Cylons within the fleet, as they realized who they were and their quest to discover how much freewill they had of their own, and how much fate would determine their destinies.
That’s really what Battlestar Galactica has been about for me throughout its four seasons. More than a clash between humans and Cylons, it’s felt like the main point of the series was to try and determine who and what we are as people. Can we change? Can we accept that other people can change? Are our lives our own, or do we have a grander purpose? Is “All Along The Watchtower” really that universal?
I don’t expect to find the answers to those questions at the end of Battlestar Galactica tonight. I expect to feel some sadness, though, as the show jumps off into reruns and DVD box sets (though I hear there’s a movie in the works). I know my life is all the better for having watched it.
“Thank you. God bless you,” he said in return.
I’m pretty sure he has. So long Galactica, and thanks for all the memories.
So say we all.