I assume everyone and his or her (robot) dog is making the obligatory “you damn dirty apes!” joke today…
While plenty went on in the “mid-season finale” episode–so much so, in fact, that I’m willing to forgive the producers for previous weak choices that erased any doubt we might have had about whether Kara would reach the airlock in time to prevent Tigh’s demise (current level of doubt: .038%)–it’s only fair to note the most miraculous moment: Lee Adama has a purpose. After four years of people like me rolling their eyes in Apollo’s general direction when he makes his vanilla pronouncements or spouts ramrod-straight rhetoric (why can’t he just shut his mouth and wear a towel?), Lee’s entire arc becomes clear. When push came to shove, the only person typical-hero-vanilla enough, the only person genuinely ramrod-straight enough to swallow humanity’s pride and choose to change by granting the Final Five Minus One the necessary amnesty to win over D’Anna is Lee Adama. Lee finally makes sense. Seriously, it made me a little teary.
Lee’s purpose wasn’t the only thing that brought on the sniffles. After speculating that the Final Fi…Four don’t have reflections but must do the work of reconciling human and Cylon only within themselves, it hurts so good to see Saul Tigh not only own up to Bill Adama, but to see him offer himself as the sacrifice to prevent more death. Even though you know Earth isn’t going to be their salvation (“Stop celebrating! You still have five minutes left in the episode! You’re tempting the Woof Gods!”), it’s pretty much impossible not to be moved when the camera sweeps over the Fleet to reveal that glorious blue sphere. A lot of this is Bear McCreary’s fault, as the gorgeous choral score throughout this scene brings us to an place of reverence and release that must be what the people in the CIC are feeling. Deckhands kissing! Miners cheering! Tyrol’s kid being silent! If you can avoid indulging in that joy, even for a second, you’re made of tougher stuff than I am.
Speaking of the brilliant McCreary, if he doesn’t win an Emmy just for that moment the dissonant, minor-key “Guh! We’re Cylons?!?” music that’s been following around our four stealth Cylons since “Crossroads” resolves itself into a peaceful, hopeful take on the melody, the awards have ceased to have meaning and Katherine Heigl will call a news conference.
So where do we go from here? What are we supposed to make of an irradiated, decaying Earth? Is this really where the Colonies came from in the first place? Where is the Thirteenth Colony now? Who or what is manipulating both sides? Is this what has happened before, and can the tenuous alliance between human and Cylon stop it all from happening yet again? Potential clues from “Revelations” to chew on through the long, cold wait for the last episodes:
–Kara’s reminding Lee of Leoben’s observation that “for children to reach their full potential, their parents have to die.” Are the alliance members the children?
–Bill asks what he’s sent so many people to die for; Lee replies, “For Earth.” Have all of the orchestrations been to save not the children, but Earth?
–”It doesn’t have to happen again, not if we make up our minds to change. Take a different path, right here, right now” resonates quite nicely with Baltar asking D’Anna if she doesn’t believe God brought her back from the darkness for a different purpose–perhaps to “end this peacefully.”
–D’Anna does despair that the humans will never forgive Cylons for what was done to the Twelve Colonies–will both humanity and Cylons prove they are worth saving by forgiving what happened to the Thirteenth, whatever that may have been?
It’s mean to make us wait so long to find out, but at least they’ve given us a lot to play with until then.