BN:  The Brandon Network

White Noise

wherein I muse on all manner of miscellany, minutiae, and matters televisual - now in High Def!

9-27-08

Chapter 47 in which Architecture School finishes their house

Last Wednesday, a late summer gem aired its finale, and in just six episodes vastly outshone the new fall series. I'm just getting around to writing about it now because of a busy week, something the students featured on Architecture School know plenty about. I had no idea the season was ending so soon, and now that it's over, I realize how much I loved it. Airing on Sundance, Architecture School is a documentary series set at the Tulane School of Architecture in New Orleans. Working with local organizations and financed by GMAC, the students in the URBANbuild program design a house for a low-income family--the house is subsidized so the standards are moderately high for the families living there--in the fall semester and build it in the spring.

Prior to the series, the program had successfully accomplished the erection of two progressive houses. This season focuses on the parallel stories of building the third house and finding a buyer for the second house, the lots just a few blocks from each other.  The informative aspect of the series--learning about the designs, seeing construction, enduring the endless search for a financially stable buyer--is compelling enough, but this dynamic series is so much more.

As we learned in the final episode, there's an old New Orleans joke:  How many New Orleans residents does it take to screw in a light bulb? Three. One to change the light bulb, and two to talk about how great the old light bulb was.

So it is with the housing project. A major subplot concerns fears of gentrification, as the predominantly white students come in to a poor, black neighborhood and replace its usual ramshackle housing with modern, efficient architecture.

One of the best aspects of the show is its dedication to even-handedness. The series does not glorify the students, nor the views of the neighborhood's residents, nor the housing process. During the first few episodes, if we weren't with the students at Tulane designing houses, we were spending time with a local resident who was trying to acquire the latest house for her daughter. The bureaucracy is endless, and I'm sure I didn't completely understand it all, but you can't help but sympathize with the potential buyers. The URBANbuild program was designed to give Katrina victims a place to return to, and the local residents are understandably frustrated that it looks like the house will end up going to an outsider moving to the area for the first time.

New Orleans is a significant host for the series. King cake, Mardi Gras, gumbo, and jazz make prominent appearances, but so do a series of murders on the street of the housing project. One student's purse is stolen, and she's told by the police it's her fault for leaving it in her car. Another student finds a car window shattered. Throughout the project, residents complain, forcing the audience to consider the gentrification argument carefully. The wraparound porch becomes a symbol of New Orleans' architectural and social heritage. Windows are chinks in a home's armor in the Big Easy. At times, the show feels like a localized experiment in foreign intervention.

Fortunately, we spend most of our time with the students, who consisently display their creativity, dedication, and frustration. The first few episodes cover the fall semester, where they learn about the program and create their own designs. The vetting process is grueling, as the students present their ideas to a tough committee of architects. But it's the students who vote on which design to build, and in the spring, they get to work.

We get the expected complaining of long work hours, but for the most part, the work on-site is charming as they work together to install an exciting progressive house. They joke around, bet on how far the cantilever will sink, and furiously seek donated materials to maintain their budget. Unexpected problems crop up each episode, and it's a pleasure to see how they adapt. Time spent following the students after-hours (rock-climbing, at crew practice, outside a cafe) helps us get a more well-rounded look at their lives, and their late-night conversations were highlights for me. As was one student's day off to work an Obama rally.

Architecture School is a fast-paced, unique, rewarding series with an intelligent, well-rounded approach to the story of students trying to rebuild New Orleans. I highly recommend seeking it out via reruns or the inevitable (I hope) DVD set, and I hope it continues, following the fourth URBANbuild house.

As one of the students discussed in the finale, the most satisfying thing about building a house from scratch is the sight of a chair on the porch, Spiderman drapes, or a face peering out of the window designed for a child's height. Over the finale credits, we got to see a child looking out that window, and it was one of the many reasons Architecture School (and Mad Men and The Middleman) made this summer a delightful season of television.

9-19-08

Chapter 46 in which the Border transition is a little bit worth it

Weeds has been in a transitional state for two years.  That's way too long for a show so unfunny these days.  I've been rather quiet about my distaste for the changes this year because the show is not really worth my whining, especially in a summer with so many more significant enterprises (The Middleman, Generation Kill, Architecture School, etc.).  Heylia, Conrad, and Vaneeta are gone forever, replaced by the Border characters of Guillermo, Esteban, the DEA, and Albert Brooks.  I wish Brooks and the Botwin granny affair never happened--not because they were too controversial or "edgy" as the writers seem to think, but because they were boring.  Worse, the cheerful, mischievous, and dangerous Guillermo we loved last year was replaced by a grim, scolded dog, a microcosm of what's happened to the show at large. 

But the penultimate episode showed signs of spark:  the silent tunnel bust intercut with Nancy's dalliance with Esteban was the most compelling scene to that point (possibly since the Season 2 cliffhanger), and that's when I realized the show is so dark and gloomy nowadays they crank out better tension than they do laughs.  Weeds ought to compete as a drama.  The finale is my favorite episode of the season, but it's a shame it took twelve boring episodes to get here.  Many of the earlier subplots feel pointless knowing the destination, which is no surprise since Jenji Kohan is on record saying the writers themselves don't know what's next (although another uplifting sign from the penultimate episode came when Sanjay recognized the DEA partner was gay, and I started to think they had a plan all along).  For instance, all the returning characters except Silas got wound up in separate slight stories--Celia in jail, on drugs, and in rehab, Andy and Doug as coyotes, Shane as the weird kid at school--while Silas was stuck in a story that was not only not funny, but not interesting, and ultimately entirely inconsequential.  One of the signs of creative exhaustion of an aging series is when the main characters are in plots that have nothing to do with each other. 

Still, the finale featured some really great stuff.  My favorite part of the season is when Andy visits Nancy in the bathroom as she prepares to face her death.  He's just been confronted with the fact that he's in love with her, and every line delivery is a heart-breaking combination of support and frustration.  After the scene goes silent, it's still moving, but I felt the choice was a bit too self-conscious, a bit unnatural to the moment.  Or maybe I just wanted to continue listening to Nancy opening up.  On the other hand, I enjoyed the scene of Nancy driving to the border while trying to describe how she feels about Silas, because I felt it acknowledges the realism of the show--Nancy's been a neglectful mother and Silas has been a bratty child--while overpowering it with the strength of Nancy's love for her children.  Which brings us to the final scene.  I'd heard plenty about how shocking it was before going in, so my reaction was a bit like, "That's it?"  The drama was excellent, and I'm eager to see how they get out of this (but then, I was never worried Nancy would die anyway), but I was expecting, you know, a conclusion.  I'm not giving up on Weeds, but I hope they wrap it all up next year.  Remember when this show was about a pot-dealing soccer mom?  This is not what I signed up for. 

8-11-08

Chapter 45 in which the mole comes out of the closet

The Mole ended its Batman Begins season tonight, and I enjoyed the finale as much as I have the rest of this middling season. If that sounds like damning with faint praise, get out of my head. But it's not my fault The Mole airs on the same night as the summer's most glorious show The Middleman. Find out who the mole is after the jump and about three commercial breaks with ambiguous reaction shot teasers.

The mole is Craig! (I think my tactic of propping up the lead beneath neon lights could teach reality television producers a thing or two about satisfying their viewers.)

My personal choice for the mole has been Mark for some time. How did I come to such a ridiculous conclusion? One day about two months ago (give or take), I realized that Mark was the only one I was positive was not the mole, given his adamant desire to win, his obsessive note-taking, and his general competence. Seconds later came the realization that Mark, then, had to be the mole.

When we got down to Mark, Craig, and Nicole, my suspect was still in the running. I knew I was right. Nicole was screaming for attention from Day 1, which isn't necessarily a bad strategy since that's the same reason everyone wrote her off. But I had a hunch the producers wouldn't go with someone so obvious.

That reasoning also discounted Craig, who I assumed was too obvious from the very first mission. On top of being conveniently absent when the rest of the contestants' notebooks were burned, the final exemption was at his favorite site in the city! And it wasn't just obvious to me: the final two episodes before the reunion were riddled with contestants observing how much money Craig has lost them and how he was their prime suspect. As we learned in the finale, that's because everyone from Paul on up to Mark, who won, knew Craig was the mole!

So yeah, I 'm a little deflated by the anticlimax. I got my hopes up that the producers were aiming for a surprise reveal. And at this point, I would have considered Nicole a surprising mole, simply because of how obnoxious she was.

Nicole went through a tremendous change somewhere along the way. She started the game so annoyingly that I wanted her gone, but about halfway through, her humor started to show. She could still be a bit of a shrew, especially around Paul, but she was also a smart, hilarious competitor. I appreciated how proud and sad she was to be the final girl. She was playing a character in the beginning (and occasionally thereafter), but toward the end we got to see more of the real Nicole, as her game face dropped, and I enjoyed having her around.

I'm excited for Mark to enjoy his $420,000 though. His motivations were a little Lisa Frank, but it's nice to see hard work and determination pay off every so often. Of course, we learned how much luck played into his win, tying with the executed player three times over the course of the game! Mark's win this summer is a microcosm of the American dream. Yeah, I went there. The Hills is Aristophanes for the 21st century. What are you gonna do about it?

While I wasn't piddling in my panties (to steal a phrase from Daniel Vosovic) about the Craig reveal, I can't help but admire his game-playing. Even though I'm just an audience member, I'm a little honored to have a mole that was so surreptitious while such a likable guy. Mark was right: Craig cloaked himself in affability.

I'm not sure I want to see any more of this show. I liked The Mole in the past because the games were more interactive or at least so foreign to my mundane life that I got to play vicariously (remember when they had a team navigating other players through an abandoned town via walkie talkie while other players shot at them from rooftops for an exemption?). This year, whenever they had riddles or number games that could feasibly be played by viewers at home, the producers gave us no time or didn't show us (as when they revealed the answer to the doublet before even the players got it, which is as ridiculous as if Jeopardy subtitled the answers instead of letting us shout at our television sets).

You could argue The Mole is more a reality show than a game show, and the game shouldn't steal focus from dissecting personalities and behaviors. In which case I definitely don't want to see future seasons of The Mole. If I can't stroke my ego by correctly predicting the winner, then I want to do so by out-solving the players. "I could so win this show!" needs to be my nightly refrain. Think on it, ABC.

I'm not sure what the consensus is on Jon Kelley's work as host, but I found him generally awful. He just doesn't have the charming ease of Anderson Cooper, and frankly, I don't see what's so important that Andy can't come back to his roots for a month of filming.

But barring the return of the youngest silver fox this side of the asteroid belt, I'm content to be done with The Mole. I have no idea about its ratings, but my guess is ABC will bring it back next summer to fill time between Wipeout promos (there, I've now referenced one metric assload of reality shows in this post). And for all my gripes, I'll be there. And for the fourth time (no joke, and I didn't watch the second celebrity season), I will predict the eventual winner is actually the mole.

8-09-08

Chapter 44 in which Bear goes Baja

Man vs. Wild returned for a fifth "season" (can six episodes every so often really constitute a season?), and I'm not as riveted as last time (which was, what, three months ago?).  Maybe the high of last season's four opening episodes (Sumatra, a Pacific Island, Zambia, and Namibia) is the series' peak, but I think my reaction has more to do with this episode's setting.  To be sure, Bear Grylls has taken us to many deserts, all vastly different landscapes united by sand and sun and surprisingly little else.  But this time, on the gorgeous Baja peninsula, despite the fact that the desert looked different than previous ones, most of Bear's adventure was more of the same.  How many times do we need to see him use urine first to cool his body and second as a refreshment?  Or facing off with a dangerous snake for some fake tension before leaving it alone?  (Of course, this time, after his standoff with a rattlesnake, he slew another one and ate it.)  On the plus side, we got to learn about skunks firsthand, although I will further say that my least favorite part of this show is the disgusting nature of most of Bear's meals.  Unfortunately for me, the producers seem to love that aspect.  Also, Bear faced off with a beehive, and one single sting made his face look like an alien from The Middleman.  In all, this was an average episode of Man vs. Wild, but I've come to expect so much more.  Happily, they dropped the two-part episode idea that had been fueling the past couple cycles of episodes, so next week will be a completely new setting, the swamps of Louisiana.  I'm looking forward to it, but I can't help but think that it might just be a rehash of the Everglades episode. 

7-28-08

Chapter 43 in which Mad Men twists again

Mad Men's hotly anticipated Season 2 premiere aired last night (just in time, I hope, for it to ride the Emmy buzz to new viewership), and if you haven't seen it yet, snap to it, because here there be spoilers:

Matthew Weiner and company are back from vacation, and they brought us so many presents. My face lit up repeatedly throughout the episode: first for the opening shot of my favorite Mad woman Joan in her iconic red dress, again for Betty learning to ride horseback, then for Paul and his lovely bearded face, strangely for Pete who has a surprising appeal now that he's been dismissed so thoroughly, for John Slattery's perfection as Roger Sterling, and finally for the glorious return of Anne Dudek's Francine.  I know I sound like a rabid fanboy (I only wish there were a Comicon for Mad Men), but not having seen this show since it ended last year (and I only rewatched "The Wheel" since) has filled me with unexpected glee upon its return. It helps that Weiner's atmospheric portrait of American life builds from characters rather than contrivances. I'll admit most of my reticence to return to Mad Men since its exemplary inauguration was because I didn't want it to lose any of the magic.

But now that we've all seen the beginning of a new season, I think we can agree: the magic remains. Maybe not for Don and Betty's "marriage," or Don's once youthful physique (did Jon Hamm put on some weight for this season, or is it just me? Again, it's been a few months since I last saw Don Draper in action), or Don's firm handle on his office, his romances, and himself. But for the show as a whole, the magic is alive and well.  By which I mean the series has not lost its knack for the subtle art of details illustrating greater points, like Don wearing a hat post-Kennedy, Peggy's copy evoking Don's distant family (both of them), Peggy's neglected parenthood, and the generation gap, and Betty riding giving way to Betty "riding." Magic also lies in the series' determination to avoid the obvious, as in Don's reaction to the "sex sells" suggestion or Betty's roadside encounter (and did you notice how Pete stayed up alone on Valentine's, after a conversation in which his wife cried about not being able to get pregnant?).

It's disconcerting to see that Don seems to be suffering more than the rest of them. Not surprising, considering we first see Don at the doctor's office (where nothing good occurs) with high blood pressure promising to cut back, and we follow up with a hearty lunch of steak and eggs. On top of which, the Don Draper who improvised a paean to nostalgia to sell a slide projector is aloof about the Mohawk Airlines account. What's more, he can't even celebrate Valentine's Day properly.  I'm worried for Don, but confident he'll come through. The rising tension with Duck is certain to be a great draw this year. Don hired Duck as a means to keep Pete in line--also, Pete is manifestly unqualified--so it's weird knowing that Duck is not only decent (trying to go through the proper channels) but right. Don's no stranger to the wrong side of history, but it's never comfortable to see him so adamantly wrong.  Peggy may be the jolt he needs. They make an excellent team, partially because she seems to be the most diligent of Don's staff, and I hope to see them learn from each other. Peggy standing up for Don, though misguided and overblown, was a wonderful testament to her dedication to her old boss. But the charm here is that Don also admires Peggy, constantly encouraging her to improve her natural penchant for salesmanship.

Meanwhile, Joan remains fabulous as the keeper of Sterling-Cooper. Dealing with the copy machine, she works all the angles: treating it as a reward for the secretarial pool, using it as a means to give Lois minor consolation after her scolding (by apparently valuing Lois' opinion), and ultimately firing it at Peggy, the latest volley in what I hope is an endless struggle for office dominance. Christina Hendricks is consistently reliable to play many interesting tactics at once, again displayed in her scene with Lois (as she cocks her head mischievously, puts on a naive face, and asks about Peggy, "Why would she do that?"). I adore that Joan really wants what's best for Sterling-Cooper, and if placing the copy machine in Peggy's office--she said at the outset that it was so big it needed an office--wasn't the best fit, I believe she wouldn't have done it. On the other hand, I'm dismayed that Joan may be engaged shortly, because I don't want this show to lose Joan's flirting.

Of course, the non-Jewish doctor who may soon be proposing to Joan is a welcome addition himself, although we barely got to see him in the premiere. Meanwhile, Lois nailed her scenes with Peggy and Joan, and I hope to see more of her. I also want to see more of Carla, the Drapers' housekeeper, if for no other reason than race relations haven't been explored to nearly the degree promised by the pilot's opening scene. Finally, Duck is already a welcome addition to the cast, providing the voice of reason amidst the Draper/Sterling Stodgy Club.  As for the remaining mad men, Pete won me over when he demanded Trudy open his gift to her because he wanted a chocolate. But more importantly, Sal got married?! Of the many hanging chads, I was less looking forward to the fate of Peggy's baby than Sal's personal journey. And it looks like we've got plenty left on that road.

So for the big cliffhanger (and what other show would have their cliffhanger involve mailing poetry to an unknown recipient), who did Don mail the poetry to? My immediate thought (read: fervent wish) was Rachel Mencken, who I felt was a better foil for Don than Midge. But the more I think about it, the more likely scenario is Don sending poetry to his former beatnik mistress in the midst of a mini-sexual crisis with his wife.  Now I'm busy anticipating next week's episode, and the rest of the season, glad to have the current king of drama back. Don Draper's universe can only stave off tension for so long. Or as his secretary Lois might put it, "I think it looks good now, but I think it will become messy."

6-17-08

Chapter 42 in which Mondays meet the Middleman

The Mole has been unsurprisingly chaotic this year: three episodes in, and everyone has displayed mole-like behavior at one point or another. Bobby going home didn't shock me simply because he was obviously trying to make people think he was the mole. Also, I'm glad not to have to deal with his whining any more. My main suspects now are Mark (who I've found suspicious since last week) and Alex (who I'm just now suspecting). Overall, I'm enjoying the show, but enough with the Spanish-language challenges. I want to see more along the lines of the waterfall raft-jump!

Weeds is continuing its transition into a show that people are less interested in, but I liked the premiere. Maybe I'm just glad to have Nancy back in my life, but my favorite part of the episode (and presumably, season) is the returned focus on Nancy's relationship with Andy, a bond that diminished during the army fiasco and Andy's perpetual goofing off with Doug. Mary-Louise Parker and Justin Kirk are so genuine in their scenes together, thanks no doubt to their long friendship in real life, that I always enjoy seeing them bounce off of each other. Of course, I generally like to laugh while watching shows that enter awards races as comedies, but the funny was sequestered in Agrestic. I look forward to Celia and company reconnecting with the Botwins, but I'm disappointed that Conrad, Heylia, and Vaneeta are gone for good. Meanwhile, I have no sycophantic reverence for Albert Brooks, but I thought he was a fine addition to the show. I didn't die laughing, as I expected from his rapturous reputation, but I'm interested to see where his storyline heads. It's another rebuilding year--last year got us halfway to the new Weeds, and this year aims to finish--so we can expect growing pains, and for now at least, I'm happily along for the ride.

Rounding out Showtime's new power hour (Californication who? Oh, right. Sorry about that) is Secret Diary of a Call Girl, set in London, where it aired last Fall. Billie Piper plays Hannah, an educated London woman who struggles to maintain her relationships while keeping secret her life as Belle, a high-class prostitute. The series is fascinating from an occupational perspective ("Oh, so that's how they do that"), and Piper is engaging as our warm, witty narrator. But frustratingly, the show's deepest concerns--Hannah's privacy threatens to cut her off from her support system--are not explored very deeply, or they are resolved in that sitcommy way by the end of the episode, while much more interesting territory--Hannah's relationship with her parents, her leisure time, possible ethical complications--are glossed over. I certainly found the show enjoyable, and I'm sure there's a world of sexual niches yet to be explored by the show (the first season has an episode each for orgies, threesomes, foursomes, you get the idea), but I find myself lukewarm to the next two seasons. Secret Diary of a Call Girl goes down easy (so to speak) but fails to establish anything meaningful with its client, er, audience.

Just for you, I saved the best for last. I can't believe I had more fun watching ABC Family than Showtime, or that I found the pilot of a Lost writer hilarious and authentic, but Javier Grillo-Marxuach's The Middleman is my new Monday show. It's based on Marxuach's comic series, and from the opening shot of Wendy Watson playing secretary while a nuclear reaction goes awry in the room behind her, the show establishes its graphic novel design. Wendy is rescued by a square-jawed hero known only as the Middleman, and after noticing Wendy's cool in the face of danger, the Middleman offers to recruit her to help fight comic-type bad guys trying to take over the world.  The Middleman takes place in a world just outside of reality, like Pushing Daisies or Arrested Development, and the pilot admirably sets up the tone of the series, an old-fashioned superhero show with the slightest hint of self-reflexive commentary. The Middleman uses terms like "mosey," "gosh darn," and "beat the crud out of that weasel--pardon my French," and at first I thought this was thanks to the Family in ABC Family. But it sets up a hilarious scene that put my mind at ease: The Middleman is straight as an arrow not because of language guidelines but because that's how the heroes of old behaved.  While it has its ABC Family production values (and perhaps, in part, thanks to them), I was immediately charmed by The Middleman and cannot wait to see where Wendy and the Middleman find themselves next week. I highly recommend the pilot, and remember, kids: always drink your milk!

6-13-08

Chapter 41 in which the game changes

What a frightening episode. I spent so much time worrying that one or many of my favorites were going to die that I am kind of relieved about the disheartening future for them all. But the deathly tone overshadowed much of the opening acts: Kara telling Lee that Bill must die in order for Lee to become his own person, Laura telling Bill to blow up the basestar, Tigh talking about airlocking himself, the list goes on. But at the end of the day, nobody died except the dream of Earth.  The Final Four plot was beautiful. Seeing each of them present at D'Anna's arrival immediately gave me shivers, and the way D'Anna gracefully handled her ultimatum, practically winking at Tigh, was perfect. The paranoia was palpable, really augmenting the Cold War-ishness of the episode (and latter half of the season, on second thought). I don't know what to make of Tory any more, probably due to Rekha Sharma's overshadowed performance, but I can't believe she wouldn't care about humanity being destroyed. On the other hand, her cold tension with Roslin implies that perhaps Tory is indicting humanity for their blind hatred of cylons.  Somewhere along the way, Saul Tigh became the noblest character on this show (with the possible exception of annoyingly righteous Helo). Stewing in his contribution to Laura's potential death, confessing to Bill, and waiting in an airlock, Michael Hogan continues to be one of the best players on Battlestar. Tyrol and Anders, though, were essentially stand-ins this episode. I guess without Anders, Starbuck wouldn't have gotten involved in the Mystery of the Resurrected Raptor, but other than playing Hardy Boys, Anders and Tyrol were non-characters, lumped together and acted upon by others. They didn't even get to out themselves, although that only would have led to Starbuck causing an international incident, so to speak.

Speaking of which, the Galactica Missile Crisis was thrilling. I loved that Tory knew Lee was spineless, but interestingly, D'Anna started to look nervous about the possible consequences of the standoff while Lee didn't look back. The intercutting with Starbuck in the raptor and Gaius trying to talk D'Anna down ratcheted up the tension and called back to Gaius' relationship with Three during his time on the basestar post-New Caprica. Gods, I miss the weird cylon threesome days.  But the can't-we-all-get-along resolution, with Lee's about-face (however consistent with his character) and cylon amnesty was a bit weird, like the Obama hope campaign actually being put in effect in a real life situation. It was like that time when the Pegasus showed up, and everyone was weirded out even though they knew they were supposed to be happy. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more pleased that nobody died and the cylons aren't the blind enemies of the humans now. It's just that I know by now to be distrustful of happy endings, and we got happy endings in spades.

I realize Earth ain't all it's cracked up to be--by the way, that Geiger counter was picking up a lot of radioactivity, yet another Cold War reference--but they got there nonetheless. And there's some sort of human-cylon alliance, and Laura and Bill are openly affectionate, and Laura's become the mother of humanity (I mean this regarding both her encouragement of Lee and her scenes with Tory and Baltar), and Kara didn't throttle Sam's neck, so we've been dealt a mostly happy hand. Plus we got that extended montage of the human civilization celebrating their victory--I was so excited to see Tyrol's miner's union again, I overlooked the frustrating lack of serious making out between Bill and Laura. They got to Earth, and they hug again? Come on! (Sidenote: At first, during the final scene between Lee and Bill, when Laura came striding out, I thought she was his Head Laura, which would have been even more romantic than his "I can't live without her" from "Sine Qua Non"). I know I'm not the only one itching for some middle-aged loving on Battlestar.  Musically the show is as exciting as ever. Bear McCreary has long been dependable to bring an Eastern element to the series, with Indian and Middle Eastern themes recurring, notably in the reworked "All Along the Watchtower," now with sitar. But tonight, when we reached Earth, the music was decidedly more Christian, a bit medieval in fact. Maybe that's why at first I thought the crew landed at Tintern Abbey. Instead, they landed in The Waste Land.  More than anything else, I'm elated that we finally got an episode that not only included everyone, but gave everyone at least a momentary spotlight. Scenes like Dee picking up the water bottle for Gaeta elevate the rest of this crazy series by fleshing out the realities of the universe. In fact, more than anything else, that scene reminded me how much they've all been through, with Gaeta and Tigh visibly damaged and Dee trying to keep everyone together. Even Kat made an appearance via her picture on the wall. And that scene at the end, with every one of our main characters on Earth, a bit disappointed and wondering what's next, was powerfully moving.

What's next is a very good question at this point. Thankfully, and a little surprisingly, even the die-hards like Bill and Laura are accepting of the cylons in the fleet now, and I wonder if there's a future for Starbuck and Anders (although it seems like they're pushing Kara and Lee back together and using Tory as an out for Anders). Obviously the final cylon is the major loose thread--I can't tell you how many times I feared someone I loved would die and then be revealed as the final cylon. But now that we're on Earth, both humans and cylons, I hope they don't go with the "everyone's a cylon" theory. Of course, I'm far more interested in the characters than the plot. Did you notice in the final tracking shot how Anders rejected Tory's advances? Also, Tigh and Six are going to have a baby at some point, and we can all be thankful that Lucy Lawless is here to stay. Which reminds me that the rest of the cylons--there are others, right?--will likely show up at some point.  Overall, I felt "Revelations" was an exciting conclusion to this season (I'm tired of this midseason/season nonsene--this has been a season, and next year we'll get another), if not quite the best episode (I prefer "The Hub"). It represents the most serious game-changer yet, although I still feel "Lay Down Your Burdens" was more interesting, if only because then we knew we'd eventually get off the planet and be back on our way to finding Earth. After "Revelations," what's to come feels like it won't be the Battlestar Galactica we've come to love. While writing the series finale, Ronald D. Moore wrote "It's the characters, stupid" on his whiteboard to keep himself focused. He's absolutely right; next season will not be about the search for earth, but rather it will follow up with our characters now that we're there. And now that we know Laura, Baltar, Tigh, and all the rest are going to be in the final season, I can't frakkin' wait.

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