The 'Battlestar Galactica' finale: Join us for a frakking blog party
Well, boys and girls, here we are…a few hours from the beginning of Battlestar Galactica‘s end. Margaret Lyons and I will be blogging during the finale — not quite live-blogging, because we’ll be too busy watching to tear ourselves away — but commercial breaks will be fertile ground for planting theories, questions, and what-the-frak-was-thats. It’ll be like a party line, but without the sadness.
So we’ll see you tonight at 9 p.m. ET, right here, for the fireworks. (And don’t forget to check back tomorrow for my final Battlestar Galactica TV Watch…*snff*) But for now, think on this: What are the chances that we’ll find out exactly who or what Starbuck really is? And what the opera house is all about? And what’s the deal with Head Six?
As a treat, here’s one of my favorite moments of the show — I’ll be running through my 10 faves in the BSG TV Watch — complete with the awesomeness that was Fat Lee Adama.
The live-ish blog begins below, and of course, SPOILERS AHEAD.
Margaret: I totally saw that hot-for-teacher thing coming….
Marc: Roslin’s cougariffic
Margaret: We’re starting with a very sexually-charged opening.
Marc: Strip clubs and jailbait
Margaret: Good grief.
Marc: Admiral Gakbar
Margaret: Plus one for Marc. Awww, the red dress. I feel so nostalgic for when I thought Six was just a sexpot hallucination.
Marc: She’s a one woman hawt love cult. Okay, everyone. Am I the only one who thinks that all of this Caprica Before the Fall stuff is just a seed for the ‘Caprica’ series?
Margaret: On a scale of 1 to “i have soiled myself”, how excited are you about Caprica?
Margaret: Oh, let the cry count begin
Marc: Cancer-Roslin is such a shock after watching Vibrant-Roslin
Marc: I wanna go on a road trip with Doc Cottle
Marc: Solving crimes, getting in adventures
Margaret: She’s such a natural crier. (Unlike…Edward James Olmos. Who, while good, just always seems like an awkward crier.)
Marc: Commander Blubberson
Margaret: Uh oh, exposition alert. You owe me a coke, Ellen Tigh.
Marc: Admiral Hoshi
Marc: Gaeta’s boyfriend got himself a fleet
Margaret : Ah yes, Hoshi.
Marc: Everyone in the hybrid hot tub!
Marc: the Colonial fleet is, officially, the gay-friendliest military arm ever
Marc: two out of three Admirals have been gay
Marc: Too little, too late for Gaius Baltar?
Margaret: I feel like he hasn’t been particularly present in years.
Margaret: Remember when he was the coked-out failure president? I….barely do.
Marc: Gaius Baltar, Prophet is just kinda boring.
Marc: Remember when he had his pants around his ankles, having sex with the Six in his head?
Marc: Ah, those were the good old days…
Margaret: He….had a lot of action on the show.
Margaret: which reminds me, Frak Map:
Marc: Ah, the sweet Frak Map
Margaret: We’re letting cancerized, drugged out Roslin triage? Hm.
Marc: And, hey, the old museum wing!
Margaret: This feels so old-school so far — we haven’t had too much of the battle-plannning in a while.
Marc: “She will not fail us, so long as we don not fail her.”
Margaret: HOLY FRAK.
Margaret: C’mon, Sam.
Marc: Widen those eyeballs.
Margaret: Has Galactica really been repaired enough to withstand that? I thought it was in full-on jalopy mode.
Marc: What a red shirt.
Margaret: This…is a little Star Wars-y.
Marc: Me, I was thinking it was a little Lazer-Tag-y.
Margaret: What is their plan once the humans get Hera back?
Marc: Boomer: Never one to stay on the same side for long.
Margaret: In so many ways. She’s been the model we’ve seen the most sides of.
Marc: Including the naked-in-a-Caprica-barn side.
Margaret: Heheh. I thought that Caprica preview looked intriguing, but I worry about the “It’s like Earth…but tennis has triangles!!!!!” kinda half-assery.
Marc: And I can’t believe they didn’t explicitly say that Esai Morales is playing Joseph Adama.
Margaret: Yeah, I thought they were going to play up the connection more.
Margaret: “I always wanted to be proud of you.” DAMN.
Marc: Maybe not the time for smooching.
Margaret: I guess I’m going to be screaming that most of the night, but other-Caprica-and-Baltar?!
Marc: It’s head games time.
Margaret: Starbuck “Can we not tell her the plan?”
Margaret: Going out strong, Ms. Kara Thrace.
Marc: And there goes Boomer.
Marc: Nice knowing you…
Margaret: Starbuck: “We stopped for coffee.” Again, zing.
Marc: “Red Stripes, repel borders” And bring up some beer.
Margaret: So what do you think so far?
Marc: Me, I think it’s been kind of breathless. Which is a good thing, given that the past four episodes have been full of hot air.
Marc: We’re here all night, folks. Try the veal.
Margaret: No joke. More has happened on this episode than…dare I say…this season?
Marc: Definitely post-mutiny.
Margaret: But I sort of liked these…I don’t know, legato episodes. The pace just built anticipation, at least on my part.
Marc: Look at Margaret with her fancy book-learning words.
Marc: Yay, Opera House!
Margaret:Every time Roslin comes on screen, I think she’s going to die.
Marc: Oh, Hera.
Margaret: Psssst, Athena, he’s going to bleed out anyway.
Marc: Cavil looks mad.
Marc: Like, Metamucil mad.
Margaret: Man, that little girl can move.
Marc: Then again, Laura isn’t Miss Spry.
Margaret: True. Able to outrun someone on her deathlegs, not really a triumph.
Margaret: Wow. So this is the Opera House.
Marc: “All of this has happened before, all of it will happen again.”
Margaret: Is this a projection?
Marc: Can’t be, since Baltar and Laura aren’t Cylons.
Marc: Shared dream fugue.
Margaret: Oh, right, one of those.
Margaret: “I see angles.” Oh, Giaus.
Marc: And no one’s shooting Cavil in the dome because…
Margaret: Seriously, I like the philosophizing, but this is like, out of a Batman cartoon at this point.
Margaret: I can’t believe we forgot to put Adama and Tigh in the Bromance gallery.
Marc: Oh, there’s gonna be a Take Two.
Marc: Tigh and Adama and Baltar and Himself.
Marc: No backsies?
Margaret: Swear? Swear to God? On your mother’s grave?
Marc: At least until the commercials are over?
Margaret: Is this a little schlocky?
Marc: “You are keeping two civilizations waiting!”
Marc: Uh oh, Tory…
Margaret: Holy frak! Oh, Tory.
Margaret: Woah, Cavil just shot himself?! I am official freaking out.
Marc: What a fragile peace that was.
Margaret: So, never mind on that truce.
Marc: “There must be some kind of way outta here.”
Margaret: We get it! The song is the co-ordinates.
Marc: Poor Galactica. Bucking, and buckling.
Margaret: When Galactica’s a rocking…please, come a-knocking, they’re in serious trouble and everyone is going to die.
Margaret: Hey, Chief, you sit there any you think about what you did.
Marc: Chief Tyrol’s Bad Boy Chair.
Margaret: EARTH! EARTHY PLACE!
Marc: Time travel?
Margaret: So is this the same — crapped out — Earth from before?
Marc: Doesn’t look like it…
Marc: Ronald D. Moore, you got some splaining to do.
Margaret: Holy Christ.
Marc: “You’ve got a one-track mind, Doc.”
Margaret: Great, Baltar wants to breed with them. Heee, this scene is really cute.
Margaret: “Hi. We’re from space.”
Marc: Lee’s hair is distracting me with it’s waviness.
Margaret: It’s Conan hair.
Marc: It’s Travolta’s Staying Alive hair
Marc: The Centurions get the baseship. Toaster party!
Margaret: Hey, you guys, let’s break the cycle of violence.
Margaret: Ah yes, drive the fleet into the Sun.
Marc: Well, there’s no place to park.
Marc: Is it me, or does Michael Trucco have really interesting nipples?
Margaret: I really hope someone out there is writing a paper about the symbolism of hair on BSG.
Marc: Or Trucco’s nipples.
Margaret: I assumed the nipple scholarship was a given.
Marc: Poor Sam.
Marc: Poor Kara.
Marc: Poor Sam and Kara.
Margaret: But seriously: Adama’s mustache a few seasons ago, we see Kara go through a lot of different looks, Roslin’s baldness has been a big recurring image…
Marc: Tigh’s terrorist beard.
Margaret: Oh yeah!
Margaret: Someone else grew a goatee or rally beard on New Caprica.
Marc: Tyrol had that union beard.
Margaret: See?! Please, someone, take this on.
Marc: Ah, the old BSG theme.
Marc: Very nice touch.
Margaret: Uh…Tigh? Remember when you killed Ellen?
Marc: Well, he did punish himself a bit for that.
Margaret: Aw, they sill make a cute couple.
Marc: Who likes to visit strip clubs.
Margaret: No judgment!
Marc: The couple that plays together, stays together.
Margaret: Well, they seem pretty liberated.
Marc: Caprica is gonna be the BEST SHOW EVAR.
Marc: Strip clubs and robots and Stoltz, oh my!
Margaret: STOP READING MY DIARY, MARC.
Marc: Sorry, but I don’t think Jake Ryan’s gonna take you away from all of this…
Margaret: Wow, a 16 Candles reference? You really HAVE been reading my diary.
Marc: Where the deer and the antelope play…
Margaret: Cry counter….
Margaret: Well, this makes my BSG/Lion King crossover sound a lot less stupid.
Marc: Earth is what you make it.
Margaret: I don’t know if I can just watch her die.
Marc: “Nothing but the rain.”
Margaret: WTFrak are they going to do for the next 20 minutes?
Margaret: Also, will these animals not flee from the noise of a freaking space ship?
Margaret: “Ooops, something’s broken.” Hmmmm. DEEPER MEANING?
Marc: Giddy Lee.
Marc: And, wha-HUH?
Margaret: Also, why does Lee no seem more surprised?
Marc: Yeah, here’s where I call bull$#@$.
Margaret: Oh, I guess my BFF/sort of girlfriend just disappeared, no bigs, I have exploring to do. Hey, a pigeon.
Marc: Yay, hills!
Marc: Sexy, sexy Roslin.
Margaret: Love ’em and leave ’em Roslin!!
Marc: Check out the gams on Madame President.
Margaret: You know, I don’t give a crap about Adar. Seriously, this is how we’re spending the last few minutes?
Marc: Keep it together, Margaret.
Margaret: Not even an option.
Margaret: Do the act breaks feel as awkward to you as they do to me?
Marc: Yeah, this was clearly meant to be seen unexpurgated.
Margaret: I’m sad. But I think of all the ways for Roslin to go–which, let’s be honest, has been a given for….years a this point — this was the least obnoxious.
Margaret: I fully expected an ER-style death opera.
Marc: I was hoping for a viking funeral. Or an exploding building with her on top.
Margaret: Wait, THE PLAN?
Margaret: Quien es the Plan?
Marc: Yeah…two hour movie, written by the great Jane Espenson. About the Cylon initiative before C-Day.
Marc: No bleeding out for Helo!
Margaret: How does Athena know how to farm?
Marc: And why doesn’t Hera stop running away?
Margaret: Get that kid on a leash.
Marc: Oh, Baltar…letting Little Gaius damn the human race.
Marc: Were those CG trees?
Margaret: I think so?
Marc: I guess so, given that Vancouver isn’t really the savannah.
Margaret: Uh, i can’t believe I’m saying this, but…END?
Margaret: 150,000 later!
Marc: Ronald D. Moore cameo.
Margaret: Hera’s mitochondrial Eve.
Margaret: I love how Tricia Helfer is so much taller than James Callis.
Marc: a little blunt, no?
Margaret: That little tag for MSNBC just put me over the edge.
Margaret: Also, ouch, an anvil just hit me on the noggin.
Marc: Okay, Times Square was a little much…and Head Baltar and Head Six are, what, angels?
Margaret: Or devils? Just kidding, I have no idea.
Margaret: And what…was Kara?
Marc: Heck if I know.
Margaret: And Tyrol became the Highlander?
Marc: There can be only one…Galen.
Margaret: Where did Ellen and Tigh…settle?
Marc: Earth’s first strip club
Margaret: Zing! I was going to add “other than a bar.”
Margaret: I….don’t know if i get it.
Marc: No…probably not.
Marc: I’m sorta there, but this is the second time I’ve seen it…and there are still questions I’ve got, answers I’d like.
Marc: But maybe I just need to realize that not every question gets an answer.
Margaret: What did you want want from the finale?
Margaret: I wanted a little more than this to be honest. I don’t mind not getting total closure, but…
Marc: I’ll be giving my take in my TV Watch…so I’m not gonna spill too much here.
Marc: Other than to say that I’m unsatisfyingly satisfied.
Marc: So, I’m off to the writing mines. Hope you guys dug it.
Margaret: I’ll let Marc do the full-on review tomorrow on TV Watch, but I’ll say that there were parts I *loved.* And overall, this was satisfying. But some aspects of it just rubbed me the wrong way. Your turn, PopWatchers. Are you saying holy frak…or what the frak?