Illusions of Truth: Storytelling in Battlestar Galactica

Just to add to my lengthy commentary on the finale of Battlestar Galactica, a tweet from Amazo Paul Cornell took me a wonderful collection of comments about BSG from established writers and journalists. Each author offers his reaction to the finale and ponders where they'd have taken the show if they were the creative mastermind behind it. Some polarised views there, but one strand of thinking is prevalent throughout - and that's the problems in writing a show with a fluid future; where nothing is set and everything is in flux.

I think this is a particular problem with BSG given the show states from the start that - within its fictional universe - the enemy "has a plan". This infers the storyteller has conceived a concise narrative prior to the story when in the case of Battlestar Galactica, it does not.

There is no doubt that while a pre-constructed formula to any story is technically constrictive and unbending to new ideas, but for an audience it carries a comfortable hierarchy with the storyteller - we like to feel a world is real even if its conceived, and our brains prefer that conception to have been molded before we embark on a tale. Bottomline, we like to be lead on a journey rather than taking the journey hand in hand. We prefer the storyteller to have control of the whole experience rather than in the case of BSG (or at least to some extent), a pawn to the eddies created by the story.

A rather general overview I admit - particularly in the aspersions to the BSG creative process which, to little surprise, I played no part in. Speaking generally again, a clear benefit of a a fluid storyline is the ability to expand and contract on what works and what doesn't as the story grows. Furthermore, the creative process is exciting and dynamic - it can respond to the notions and ideas of the audience and shift, staying one step ahead. So I'm certainly not berating such an approach to storytelling. If we look at BSG again, the shifts in season three seem to me to very much be based on where the show has been and an effort to find places it hasn't - and I think New Caprica and the Final Five were a brilliant way to re-engage the audience after two seasons. I think this is the strength of fluid storytelling - it allows the story maker to let the show progress at its own pace rather than a preplanned one. I recall RDM saying he was happy bringing the show to an end after four rather than five seasons because he felt the show had naturally covered its ground quicker than they'd anticipated.

Equally, while I'm not looking to berate the fluid approach, I'm not looking to champion structure. Look at Babylon 5, when the show was uncertain whether it would get its year 5 on its pre-planned arc, it was forced to compress the structured storyline into one season leaving season four feeling overtly compressed with two major cumulative wars and season five rather vacuous.

I would say the best work (as with all things) finds a middle ground, one where the storyteller has a plan and his willing to reinvent it if needs be. With Moore's show, I think that middleground is lost. Certainly they seemed to have a flavour of what's to come, but I felt in season four that some of the resolutions didn't match the notions that presented them. And one can't help feel that when you walk the fluid path, you let the show help dictate the outcome more than pre-formed structure. In other words, you create the impact then worry about the aftermath when it comes time and in the interim watch the story flow carefully letting that help inform the creative process.

That all being said, I think many of the critics in the linked page are overtly critical, forgetting that the niggles are not what BSG was about - it was about characters (which arguably is the opposite of Moore's previous work on Star Trek which was infamous for technobabble and crossing its tees). So I think certain fixations in the responses to BSG are unfair and largely irrelevant. Those who wanted a big expose on the Head Six or Starbuck's mystery should have sensibly seen that such ethereal revelations would be tonally impossible. The show was never about definitives and like life, tried to keep things grey. There was never going to be big explanations aside from one: God Moves In Mysterious Ways.

And I like that. The ambiguity and almost arbitrary love/hate the universe has for its souls, and the process it leads them is as inconclusive and as uncertain as theology has painted in a dozen cultures. How often as the Lord in the Old Testament acted in a way that for an omnipotent being been considered rather elaborate or needlessly pedestrian. Why did God put that particular fruit tree in Eden? Why did he seem surprised when Man took a bite from his fruit? Why was he not aware of the serpent's plans? He's omnipotent isn't he? And like theology, BSG's higher powers work in odd unexplained ways. Starbuck's narrative journey is extremely non-sensical (as Saxon points out in the article), but that seems very theological to me. From my understanding, gods in most religions rarely move directly from A to B, but prefer a more colourful and memorable route.

But I guess the real crux of these negative comments isn't whether as an audience we can "buy" these explanations, but a resentment to knowing they were never planned and as such we wonder whether there was the opportunity to do something better.

I think people are open to improvised storytelling - I'm certainly not against the medium, but I think unfortunately Moore's candid remarks on the fluid approach to the show worked against the show itself. His professional honesty was both commendable and insightful but practically it did damage the credibility of the story itself. For example, I thought some of the choices for the Final Five were very clever when the finale to season three aired. We'd seen Tyrol's connection to Boomer, his irrational fear of being a Cylon exposed with Brother Cavel and his instincts bringing him to the Temple of the Five. As soon as I discovered than none of that was planned to lead us to him being a Cylon, but was retrospective in its decision, the twist lost its impact. I still loved the twist and the impact of the revelation, but it did lose some of its sparkle. I guess we can cope with being hoodwinked by the mysteries of the narrative - in fact its what we watch for; we enjoy the anticipation of the big reveal. But we don't enjoy being hoodwinked by the smart retrospective eye of the writers - despite the fact it presents a different and no less impressive approach to creative writing. Both approaches look to find creative solutions to creative problems. Both approaches are manipulative in intent, but one we find it easier to stomach one technique over another.

Overall this approach never truly spoilt the show for me. After all, however they resolved the Final Five, that scene when the five were revealed will always be magical. And given the mandate of any television serial is to entertain in the moment and not to create perfect continuity nor even a perfect seamless serial, I think BSG was wise to involve fluidity into its process.

After all, audiences look more and more for story arcs within their television, yet the industry remains ever cutthroat to dips in performance. Maybe fluidity is the key to keeping a show relevant, adaptive and thereby responsive to its viewers. Maybe by on-the-spot tailoring of a show's masterplan will the epic remain relevant. While Babylon 5 managed to luck out on five seasons, it could be considered the success was a commercial fluke against the many odds. Perhaps BSG's successes and failures mark the future of epic fictional television storywriting. Pitching a show with a five year arc is not going to woo any investor, but pitching a show where your long term arc is as expansive as the viewing figures dictate - that sounds like the future of television and I look forward to seeing new shows build on BSG successes and failures just as BSG did on the sci-fi epic success of Babylon 5. The future is indeed, bright.

Battlestar Galactica: The Legacy and the Finale (Daybreak Spoilers)

What a ride. Five years of Battlestar Galactica. I remember first viewing the mini-series after returning from America. Everyone here had seen it - and they were very positive about this new show. I'd been apprehensive but excited when I'd caught some glimpses of the promo material that filtered on the net having been, shall we say, a discerning fan of the original because it was clear there would be some distinct differences. But I was easy to bend - I was never a hardcore supporter of the original show. The pilot was excellent, but there was only so far the late 70s could take such a bleak premise and the show itself really plummeted at the back end of its single season (aside from the show-stopper, Hand of God). While I'd have been content to see a return to the universe, I was happy for a reboot given the shaky consistency of the old show (now missing the great Lorne Greene). I was pleasantly surprised to hear the favourable reviews of the mini-series and when I watched it fell in love with this new show.

Funny that after seeing the mini-series, the idea that a series had been green-lit on its back again caused me concern. This was an intense show - could it sustain the tension as a series? The original had failed - could the remake succeed?

Well it did. Beyond expectation. Well written, well made, well acted throughout. I have enjoyed the series from its conception. It did what both Star Trek and Babylon 5 never quite managed. In fact, funnily enough, when I used to watch Voyager I used to imagine how much better it would have been if it had borrowed from the original BSG - a ship leading a lonely trek to Earth, perhaps picking up a rag-tag fleet to protect along the way.. and who was initially involved in that production (albeit for a very short time)? Ron D Moore.

Ron D Moore has been a great series runner. The show has remained consistently strong, his commentaries have been honest and insightful. I hope they have convinced all cynics of the new show that while it may not be the show they wanted, the people doing it really cared for the product. And let's face it, the homages to the original show have been in abundance. Not just many of the designs or spattered reuse of the main theme (or more recently the opening chords on a simple piano), but in the drive of the characters. Starbuck in particular has played quite a similar storyline - she was marooned on a planet, she has had father issues (though this time minus Frank Sinatra) and as the series revealed, she didn't join the "god/gods". While this wasn't played in Battlestar Galactica's original incarnation, in the sequel Battlestar Galactica 1980 Starbuck was left on a planet marooned after helping a higher being and was intended, if a second season had been commissioned to become part of the Beings of Light that appeared throughout the original show.

It's been a great ride - so how did it end?


After hearing a few calls of derision on the net since the US airing, I was getting worried. The last few episodes had been very character driven, though a little meandering for an audience thirsty for answers. I believe with DVD retrospective goggles they will seem far less frustrating and directionless, but understandably people have been more than resentful to the lack of fast-pace and classic structure to the stories leading up to the finale. But with Daybreak, they were rewarded for those quieter episodes as the show saved the budget for its swansong.

And what a swansong. Emotion, action, answers, despair and hope. It went through the whole lot with honesty. I must admit I expected more characters to die, but we got a hefty few of supporting and major players bowing out. The effects were fantastic (great to see the return of the old Cylons) and the resolution was handled with grace. The final scenes with Adama and Roslin were as beautiful as the meeting of Athena and Boomer was brutal.

Was the final home of humanity a problem for me? No. For many I could imagine the definitive attachment to our history being an issue, but the mantra "it has happened before and it will happen again" implicitly (or in the case of this episodes mid-point, explicitly) tells us that the cycles in life are as much manipulated to repeat as they are to change. So people can speak English thousands of years ago and still speak English today, because its all part of the cycle. It's the way creation works. I particularly like the way that the god(s) in this show aren't good or evil, nor are they specific, they are an ambiguous force that doesn't require justification, just is. I think that was a very powerful perspective for TV, particularly given its propensity for absolutes - good and evil are the bread and butter of the Hollywood platter. I was happy to see this dull ideal shunned here.

But the series did fail, and that was a great pity. I was sitting watching this with my sibling and I was laughing near the end at quite how they could blow this fantastic episode in the last five minutes. I suggested perhaps an epilogue where a Raptor comes back for Hermit Adama saying they need him back in service; that unknown to him Roslin had a son and he'd been taken by Adama's evil twin brother. Or maybe an ending where the camera rises up into the stars and Ron Moore is there on a cloud winking at a camera. The latter idea was based on JMS' flouting of the dramatic illusion at the end of Babylon 5 being the guy to switch of the space station within the story - a little display of territorial ego that really didn't benefit the show and sure, the show should take priority over any in-joke? So my sister and I laughed and this ideas of how such a brilliant show could ruin the final few minutes.

And what do you know? It succeeded!

After a brilliant act-out with Adama alone on a mountain, a perfect place to end the show, we have this turgid, unnecessary contemporary scene with the head characters. It feels tacky, out of place and utterly worthless, sledgehammering a point that the series didn't need to make because it was there by inference: could we be making our OWN Cylons? Good lord, this isn't the Twlight Zone or Outer Limits - we don't need the show's message to be nailed to our foreheads and our faces thrust into a nearby mirror to understand. We get it. We could make our own Cylons. Yes, how profound.

What really staggered me by this epilogue was the sheer insult of it. The show has not once patronised or belittled its audience's ability to see the subtlety to its stories - why start on the final five minutes?

On top of this, the dialogue felt awkward and out of place, as did the contemporary setting. It just jarred with everything the show has done.

And of course, the piece de resistance.. my little gag of Mr Moore hanging in the clouds wasn't far wrong - like JMS, Mr Moore clearly couldn't escape the opportunity of having himself spiced into the final few moments and he appears awkwardly reading a paper rammed in the viewers face on contemporary Earth, again breaking the dramatic weave of the scene.

I wouldn't dare to lecture such a TV master but I would have to ask him this following questions - questions I've already alluded to but felt I need to really hammer home. I'm sure he'll see the snarky parallel I'm making. Did his appearance benefit the show's final moments? Did it add or distract from the drama? Did it do the story good? Did your appearance serve your show at all? I can appreciate the desire to give a fan-nod as you sign off your five year project, but after such integrity you've delivered over five years - was it really worth it?

It's a shame a mere five minutes can ruin a fantastic episode, but that is always the danger of any ending - you can start a story badly. You can start a relationship badly. You can start a meal with a disastrous first course, but as long as the last mouthful is wonderful, the bad start is forgiven. The same can't be said for a bad end. And as much as I have adored the show, I loved the finale and have so much awe and respect for the work of Ron D Moore and his fantastic team, it is a great, great shame that their perhaps singular dire moment had to be in the last few minutes, leaving Battlestar Galactica with a sour aftertaste on an otherwise perfect gourmet experience.

I can only hope that The Plan (shown this fall) will give us a new ending (not technically an ending, but an end to the franchise) that will fade this bitter pill of an epilogue. And I must say, of all the TV spins offs I've seen of sci-fi franchises, The Plan sounds an excellent one!

Maybe the after-dinner mints will make up for icky last mouthful of Galactica dessert.

Author speaks out on his feelings about Millennium.

Back to Millennium, back to Frank Black. Am I obsessed? No - I've met Millennium fans who have worked for that description. I'm just over-focused. Particularly on the campaign to bring Millennium back - after all, it was a show about one man caring more than anyone else. Well, BacktoFrankBlack is the same. Only its a group of people who care more than anything else. Oh, and I suppose we don't really help solve violent crimes either. But there's enough there to strain out this allegory.

While we're on this subject, I thought for those who ask me "why do you waste time promoting this Millennium thing?" I could reply with a single sentence rather than mountains of my own frayed thread of opinions and ideas (see previous paragraph for damn fine example).

Let me just clarify what I mean:

"Why do you waste time promoting this Millennium thing?"
Read this blog and find out.

See? Simplo.

And seriously, give it a read. It's a great, personal piece from an established thriller author (M R Sellers) and what draws him into the world of Millennium. Read it if you feel tempted to ask me that bolded question, read it for the sheer hell of a good article. Which ever you pick, read it now - there's a good chap.

Police Boxes get the Google treatment

Ever tried Google Maps? I'm sure you have. Like I, you've probably watched it evolve, spawn and germinate its way to become the Daddy of all online maps. I recall the time when Google kicked Streetmaps to the kerb with its birdseye photo POV shots of all major cities before expanding them to entire countries. I recall the excitement of Google Earth's debut, the software that dragged a reluctant camera around a spherical map of Earth (well it was reluctant on my below spec computer).

Google has taken the online map technology and vaulted it up and over another seemingly impossible benchmark: we can now explore the environments on foot.

Granted this technology has been applied to the US for a few years now, but its only recently been applied to the UK.

Dave Gorman wrote a blog today on how he found himself on Google's 3D street view maps. Having spotted - and been equally spotted - by the Google van on its virgin data pilgrimage through London complete with its Google camera strapped on the roof, Mr Gorman later discovered been caught on Google's survey camera.

Now I've never seen a Google van (actually that's not true, I did see one when checking out New York's street view maps on Google - I caught sight of the van's captured reflection in a mirrored shop window, but I don't think it counts), so I couldn't revel in the delight of spotting myself spotting a Google vehicle that in turn, was spotting me.

So having decided there was no way I could join in the self-voyeuristic fun, I wondered what other landmark I could find and thereby blindside this fantastic step in free navigational software for something far more worthy of its place on the internets: wasting time and having a lark.

I've never found a closet big enough to hide my geek qualities, so I wasn't ashamed to consider attempting to find how many police boxes there were visible on Google Maps. Some I found using the Street Walk mode, some using the overhead POV mode.

For those strangely still reading, here are the results:

Earl's Court, London

The most famous and pretty recent - put up around the time of the Doctor Who movie with Paul McGann in '96. Quite a nice box. Seen it myself, though I always forget where it is when I head into London.


Avonscroft:

No street view yet, so here we have the overhead of the box in the excellent Museum of Historic Buildings.
Wilson's Street, Glasgow

We're into Scotland and we're seeing red. There are other Scottish red boxes, but this was another fortunate find on Google's street view.


Great Western Road, Glasgow

And here's another blue box found in the same city. Appears to have an eyepatch god bless it..



Catherdal Square, Glasgow

A vertible police feast is our Glasgow. Here's another - once red, now blue. I take back my comment about red being the colour of Scotland's police boxes, but then I am happy to say I'm not a box-spotter. That would be very, very sad. Nay, I just sit trawling google maps for police boxes, uncertain why he's doing it. That's cool. Really, it is.


Wetherby Police Station, West Yorkshire

Another birdseye view. Look for the highlighted circle. This isn't an original, but a replica box for all those who care (and I suspect if you care, you knew that already). For more details - and indeed for direction to these specific locations the old fashioned way (and thereby really punctuating this entry with keen traditional slap in the face of googlemaps), click this link to the wonderful TARDIS library.


Thanks to the excellent policebox.co.uk for some extra data in this pointless, pointless research.

If you spot any more police boxes on Google Maps, don't hestitate to turn off your computer and do something far less boring instead. For more stupid google sightseeing, twitter ye this.

Why I love Stewart Lee - and why I hate myself for it.

Oh no - another personal "me" ramble. As if the internets hadn't enough of them. Once again, servers, routers and internet interfaces groan with unwanted familiarity to the grating digital scape of another weathered soapbox and its ill-edited magniloquence.

Anyway. Just watched Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle (for those who merited a life, catch it on IPlayer if you get the chance) and it was a reminder of why I love the man and how disappointed he makes me feel in myself.

Stewart Lee (for those who only limit their interest to the 40 top stand-up comedians) is best summed up by his own continuity propaganda. A cop-out on my behalf - I'd only end up fawning, looking for smart hyperbole to convey to others that subjective quality of belly-laughs that he instills in myself. See? Doing it already - I never belly laugh, though I wish I did. And if I did, I would like it to be at the hands of Mr Lee. And there goes the fawning.

I'm sure we've all got someone that we look up to so much the blood drains from our heads and we are resolved to chitter-waffle our admiration. Stewart Lee is one of mine. It's not a fanatical fixation with the man. I can go many days, weeks, months and years without passing a thought to his brilliance, nor do I clamber to own all merchandise revolving around him. In fact, so far as supporting his vocation, you could say I'm a piss-poor admirer, offering no fiscal remuneration for his entertainment (well, I did see him at Glastonbury in '98, but I doubt my ticket price really propped up his bank account).

But it's not about being a fan. I don't rush around quoting the man, nor, as I have said, have I invested in a shrine to the guy. I simply admire him. I admire him for being me.

Now, that's a comment which could take any reader down two dissecting paths. First off, given he is seven years older, Stewart Lee being a copy of me would really be a hard argument to sustain. Secondly, I'm not putting myself above or even near his identity. Quite the opposite. He is, I suppose, what I would liked James McLean to have been. If James McLean could have really had any real meaning to this universe, I think it would have been as a person with the mind and legacy of Stewart Lee.

See now I sound self-effacing. I am pretty happy with who I am, and chuffed with what I've been blessed with. I'm not brain-blastingly ugly (if such a term or such a man exists - and woe be the case if either does), I've been gifted with an artistic eye, a reasonably astute mind and some achievements that many would be proud of. Okay, I'm not the most charismatic gentleman at times, I've had my share of failures and mistakes, but the point is I'm not defacing the history of James McLean. I'm not looking to put myself down or douse myself with the pity bucket.

I guess what I'm saying is when I listen to Mr Lee, more often than not, his stand-up reflects my opinions and feelings on life. In some ways its quite cathartic to have someone manage to express similar observations more effectively than you do. We all get that when we see any oratory, be it comedy or serious - and as a meandering side-note, I think what I always find a little weird is seeing someone express observations that are similar and more effective than yours, that you hadn't even considered previously. It's one of the wonders of seeing stand-up; having a comedian express ideas that resonate that you had never considered until that moment. Hardly a revelation of an observation, but one that seemed pertinent.

I think the horror of having such admiration for any person is you know you could never possibly meet them. The same goes for any crush I suppose. Any unrequited crush has the very real risk of leaving the crusher unable to bolster their ego enough to a) be themselves and b) treat the other as they would anyone else. And the more one tries, the more one will fail to create an honest rapport and instead will build a horrifying non-representation of the person you want to convey. It's a sad but natural state of affairs given any meeting is so horribly imbalanced; the quiet discomfort of the admirer and the admirer to find any common ground.

So in the end, my admiration - until now - has been relatively silent. I wouldn't mind if it didn't make me feel so dirty. Like some creepy invisible lovesick teen-puppy gushing from the sidelines.

Watching Stewart Lee on his new show was a reminder of all these little partially connected musings. It reminded me of how so much of his material resonates with me - and how thankful the same can not be said about the Al Murray's Pub Landlord. Which raises an interesting point: given I do not know Lee, could such affinity not be with the man but his comedy persona? Just like if I resonated with the Pub Landlord's xenophobia I wouldn't necessarily be connecting with man behind the mask. In my case, I don't think it matters. The product that Lee produces touches me, regardless of what the man behind it truly thinks. There is restrained, frustrated intellectual eye to Lee's "product" that I fell in love with in the early 90s that perhaps spoke for me with more humour, insight and - well - facts than I ever could possess. Perhaps that's what's so great about a comedian whose social comedy "speaks for you", be it Stewart Lee, Al Murray or - god forbid - Roy Chubby Brown - social comedy gives you the illusion of ideological validity: the comedian gives a sheen to your own personal beliefs - they say what you believe in a cooler, more amusing and often more enlightening way than you probably could.

And Stewart Lee's comedy output has done that for me for well over a decade - he's basically helped me define me better than I could do myself. A lot of 'Me' there. A big Me blip on the Me-dar.

Which perhaps leads me to refine my original statement: Why I love the comedic product of Stewart Lee, and why I hate myself for not being able to match it. Not quite as catchy. Yes, his comedy persona would have been what I would consider the perfect James McLean. But then, James McLean would have been lost to admire himself, Stewart Lee. So perhaps this is the best way. Let Stewart Lee do what he does best and I'll happily let his produce express what I'd like to say better than I'd ever need to say it - because I have Stewart Lee to say it for me.

So next time you want to know what I think, save me the time at having to read up, learn facts and find a suitable mode of self-expression by going and seeing Stewart Lee says on stage. I'm sure it will be close.

Now go watch his new stuff on IPlayer. It is very good.