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Any successful pop-cultural item will inspire its share of
pretenders. Few pop-cultural items—hell, few items—are as successful as Star
Wars. Most of the pretenders that drifted from the debris of the exploded
Death Star have been lost to sci-fi geek history: Starcrash, Battle Beyond the
Stars, The Last Starfighter, Krull, etc. Although it initially lasted
a mere single season from 1978-1979, Glen A. Larson’s “Battlestar Galactica”
has had surprisingly active legs. It first returned in 1980 for a short-lived,
little-loved run as “Galactica 1980”. More significant was its 2003 Sky
TV/Sci-Fi Channel remake that spawned a critically acclaimed mini series and
four-season run. In terms of philosophical complexity, Ronald D. Moore’s remake
trounces Larson’s military-glorifying/pacifism-mocking cartoon. The thing is,
the twenty-first century “Galactica” isn’t much fun.
Not that the original “Battlestar Galactica” begins with an
explosion of fun. In fact, the series’ first episode is unrelentingly violent
and tragic as a space president (Ray Milland) disarms his space navy, making
way for an invasion from the axis-of-evil Cylons, who wipe out nearly everyone
who isn’t aboard the war ship that gives the series its title. In contrast to
the president—whose clashing two-dimensions are buffoonish pacifist and selfish
materialist—is the Battlestar Galactica’s Commander Adama (Lorne Greene), a
kind and thoughtful man who believes good and evil are black and white and the
best way to solve a problem is to shoot it in the face. His goal is to find
Earth, a place where his war-torn crew might find some refuge and peace. Good
luck with that.
Getting past the series’ depressing viewpoint that peace is
a goal of fools, the opening of “Battlestar Galactica” is seriously gripping
drama. The devastation the Cylons rain down has genuine gravity, and when
characters we’ve barely known for twenty minutes die, we miss them because the
survivors really mourn.
