I Have to Be a Cylon

First of all I would like to apologize for last night's bizarro post - I had a few beers in me and reading it this morning, it made absolutely no sense. So I deleted it. No hard feelings.

Bheeler made a great point about how (un)important it is for a product of popular culture to have some sort of an artistic merit. This was a response to my praise for  BSG to be an intellectually stimulating and challenging show. I agree with Bheeler that when comparing a show like Lost with the works of Shakespeare, the winner is  determined - by proxy - to be the latter because of its chronological advantage. Not that Shakespeare doesn't merit academic scrutiny, but the pedestal the academics and the critics put him on makes me question the validity of his artistic merit even more (that's two merits in one sentence). Same goes for the Oasis vs. the Beatles battle.

I also agree that studying or debating the made-up mythology behind popular culture is also an act of legitimizing them in our minds that they are serious shows and not just popcorn entertainment. A show like Lost, or BSG, or Alias have as much popcorn value as they do artistic value, but because of their chronological disadvantage and their inferior medium (television) will make them less worthy in artistic terms when academics will look back on early 21st century popular culture.

I have just watched last night's episode of  BSG online and I had goosebumps all over me. Yes, I keep salivating over this show too much maybe, but my excitement does not only stem from what I see on the screen, but what this show will represent in the years to come.

The filmmakers of our generation will be remembered for a few new innovations and developments that are, in my opinion, rather bland compared to the previous generations. Now, I'm not trying to say that Casablanca is a more worthy addition to the film cannon than Fight Club, but I would rather my generation be represented with filmmakers not named McG or Eli Roth. Let's  face it - the current filmmaking generation sucks ass. Yes, Scorsese still comes up with a scorcher once in a while. Yes, the Coens got their groove back (somehow), and yes Fincher just revealed a side we have never seen before. But they are not  strictly our generation. (Well, maybe Fincher is. And let's not forget Nolan). But, the predominant products of popular culture of our times are rather ... well... un-artistic, for want of a  better word.

Now, here's my point. I see a show like BSG shining like a beacon for the generations to come. Not because it has the best special effects on television I have ever seen, nor because it put a fledgling cable network (SciFi) in the big league. But because I feel that it will be a show critics and academics will be talking about not because of its place in a timeline, but because of its content. How many shows or films of the last 20 years can claim to that? You can go on about Blair Witch and Cloverfield's brilliant marketing strategies, but they are nothing but glorified Creature from the Black Lagoon - again, nothing is wrong with that. But BSG, in my humble  opinion, goes a little beyond that. And that's why I think it will be a landmark show - not in a popular sense (how many people can say that an Antonioni film is their favorite?), but in an academic sense. I can now claim to have been witness to a show that transcended popular culture and academia legitimately.

So say we all ...

The Ru

P.S. There are a few slight SPOILERS in this link, but it is an interesting article about shows that ultimately come to an end.

I Think I Might Be a Cylon

The re-imagined Battlestar Galactica is nearing its end and it is a sad state of affairs. What has been a great run since 2003 is coming to a close in mere 8 episodes. Quite how satisfactory the end will be is up for question, but I am pretty sure that it will be nothing short of phenomenal considering the quality of the series so far.

It is usually quoted as being one of the smartest show on television and I concur with that statement wholeheartedly. Even though I am a Lost fanatic like my fellow contributors of this blog, Battlestar Galactica is the only show I can go on for hours contemplating and debating (usually with myself) the philosophical questions put forward at every single episode: What does it mean to be human? Who decides who should be human? Is the notion of an omnipotent creator a merely human creation? In extreme situations - such as when mankind faces total annihilation - should our point of view concerning issues such as abortion or racism be altered to accomodate the circumstances? And so forth ...

There is a plethora of  material online that synopsizes the show, but the gist of it is that humans living on 12 distant planets created Cylons - machines, robots, toasters, etc. - to help them in their daily lives. However, the Cylons somehow evolved (not an accurate word to describe what happened, but it will do now) and wage war against the humans. After a lengthy armistice  (40 years - a clear religious allegory) the Cylons attack the humans and annihilate them all, save for a ragtag fleet. The remaining humans search for a mythical planet - the 13th colony - Earth, while the Cylons are in hot pursuit. The catch? They look like humans now.

The original 1978 series painted a very Manichean worldview and it was an escapist, shiny, Mormon-influenced Star Wars copy. Ronald D. Moore and David Eick took out all the varnish and presented us a rather pessimistic worldview with moral ambiguities hitting us left and right. I think the most important question asked by the writers is whether we are humans or Cylons. I, personally, don't share the religious beliefs of the Cylons, but I think I might be a Cylon. Or, perhaps I would like to be a Cylon. Maybe I am. And if so, watch out humans ...

The Bru