NFB Re-Watches Battlestar Galactica Season Four: “Daybreak (Part Two)”

Where have you taken us, Kara?

Air Date: 20/03/09

Director: Michael Rymer

Writer: Ronald D. Moore

Synopsis: The final fate of humanity and the Cylons unfolds as Galactica enters its last battle at the Colony, and Adama and his crew go after Hera.

Review

A quick authors note here, to reiterate that the “Daybreak” story has been presented several different ways: as a regular-sized first part and a double-stuffed second part in its first broadcast; as three regular-sized episodes in syndication; and as one single two-hour plus film, with extended scenes, in home releases. I’ll be reviewing it initially as the two-parter it was released as first, but will add an additional re-watch of the extended cut after that. The below is a review of the original “Part Two” form.

It’s been a long road to get here, but this is actual finale of BSG. This is going to be a long one, probably my longest review in this series, but I beg patience for the word count: there’s a lot to talk about.

Having done a lot of set-up with the “Before The Fall” flashbacks in “Daybreak (Part One)”, I was somewhat surprised to see BSG return to the convention as much as it does in “Daybreak (Part Two)”. But it does, as it did in the first part, serve some useful purposes, and it’s those that I want to focus on first. The initial one that comes to mind is the material dedicated to Adama. In “Daybreak (Part One)” we only knew that he was being asked to attend some manner of job interview, but here we realise it’s a full-on opportunity for a “cushy” civilian posting, and an end to his military career. Tigh urges him to take it, but without genuine enthusiasm. Adama is conflicted, not as much over what the job is, but from the apparent necessity that he take a lie detector test before he can be offered the role.

Adama is a mess at the thought of giving up his naval career, getting blind drunk and vomiting in public as part of an effort to deal with the concept. He’s all about the military, something his son makes clear in the same flashbacks, to the extent that it is an enormous part of his identity. But more than that Adama’s moral centre is with him: his word, his oath, is his bond, as we have seen on many occasions prior to this. It’s what got the rebel Cylons onboard with the Fleet in “A Disquiet Follows My Soul”. When push comes to shove, he angrily denounces the questioning of his sins, and goes back to his battlestar. It’s a critical choice, for many reasons beyond the fact that it inadvertently saves his life when the Cylon attack comes. In remaining with the military Adama consciously prioritises that part of himself over other things, and makes clear how strong the connection is with people like Tigh and with ships like Galactica. Moreover, it is clear that a life outside the military has no attraction for him at that point: something to consider in the context of what comes late in the story.

Somewhere else on Caprica, there is also alcohol being had, only it’s by Apollo and Starbuck while Zak lies unconscious a few feet away. The writing and acting here is top notch to get across the obvious, yet subtle, spark that has already developed between the two: Thrace’s happy-go-lucky nature and obvious enjoyment of flirtation stands in stark contrast to Apollo’s façade of seriousness and bigging up of duty, but his intrigue with her is clear. The drink flows and we learn more about these characters that will be important to note for later: Apollo’s strained relationship with his father; the palpable sense that whatever he actually says he’s not especially happy; Starbuck’s words on the difference between thoughts of death and fears of it; and her deepest terror, that she will one day be forgotten.

At the end of it all the two, with alcohol presumably playing a large factor, come close to doing something very, very stupid and very, very wrong: even with the alcohol you’re surprised that Lee comes as close as he does to having sex with his brothers fiancée when the brother is sleeping it off across the room. But that’s how much he’s already enamoured with Starbuck, and that is something that is going to stay with him, not unlike a stray bird that finds its way into his home that he can’t force out. I’m on record as saying that the interminable way BSG stuck with this relationship drama was a detriment to the latter parts of its run, but I have to admit this material was intriguing, and especially so in the context of where Apollo and Starbuck end up later.

The other character still getting the flashback treatment is Roslin, bar a brief epilogue for Baltar and Caprica Six. What unfolds is a terribly awkward interaction where she consciously decides to have sex with a former student, but then uses that experience as a motivator to jump back into her real life. In other words, Roslin hits a rock bottom, not the kind that might seem immediately obvious – she’s not bawling her eyes out or having some kind of mental break – but of a kind where she has to stop and take a good, long hard look at herself. The Roslin of the “Before The Fall” sections is a woman new to being lonely and flailing around looking for a solution: after she has a go with the mistaken kind, she decides to pursue her professional career instead. It’s not a bad outcome, even if the manner that BSG chooses to showcase that line of thought still strikes me as a bit odd all these years later.

Of course the vision of Roslin choosing to take the plunge and join Adar’s Presidential campaign – which, like Adama, will inadvertently save her life a few years after – leads in to the Roslin of the “present”, choosing to take a different, yet similar, kind of plunge. In staying aboard Galactica, and being willing to make herself useful in the medbay, Roslin consciously chooses to use up most of what is left of her strength. She rejected sitting around and moping years ago, and while she has had some similarly low moments in the run of BSG, not least in “Sometimes A Great Notion”, she’s long past that now. Despite it being a choice that will accelerate her final end, Roslin decides she isn’t going to go out lying on a bed. Seemingly her relationship with Adama and her equating Galactica with home – something she probably hasn’t been able to feel since her family died – is enough to give her this strength.

“Daybreak (Part Two)” flips the paradigm for Baltar and Caprica Six, presenting their final flashback at the end of the story. In the “present” Baltar makes his choice, albeit belatedly, and decides to stay on Galactica for the final battle. In so doing he cuts loose the Cult, and this decision happens very fast, almost in the blink of an eye. I know that the Cult has always been a means of exploring Baltar’s destined role in the Cycle, and his own ego-driven need for acclaim, from a different perspective, so in some ways it isn’t a bad thing for Baltar to now dismiss them as quickly as he does. But I’ll admit I did still find it a little unsatisfying: this is a plotline that has dominated large parts of Season Four, and it comes to a very final and sudden conclusion in this moment.

Away from that, we get to see the consequences of Baltar making what we can assume to be a “selfless” choice, as Lee Adama taunted him in the previous episode. Baltar doesn’t even really seem to know just why he did it, and we might see the hand of “God”, or whatever name you want to use, in it all, as well as a desperate hope to be near to Caprica Six once again. It’s that last part that is critical I suppose: in “Islanded In A Stream Of Stars” Caprica seemed to have only scorn for Baltar and who he had become, but here she expresses pride in what he has decided to do. And that pride is seemingly justified: we have seen Baltar choose the course of saving his own skin, as recently as “The Oath”, so many times his continuing presence on Galactica is a marked change in outlook. It is only when he comes into contact with Hera towards the end of the story that he seems to once again put his faith in the hands of the Cycle: before that Baltar seems less concerned with such things.

That’s where the moment for Balta on Caprica before the fall comes into it I think. Following the revelation of Caprica sorting out Baltar’s father and his living situation, the younger Baltar is suddenly all smiles and sunshine with the woman he had so casually discarded earlier, and even drops the “L” word, though he quickly backtracks. He makes clear that he will allow Caprica into the Colonial mainframe because of his feelings for her and not her employers, and Caprica seems charmed by his words in a manner that goes beyond her mission. It’s the real beginning for the two of them, and a clear indication that now, at the critical moment onboard Galactica, it is for Caprica Six that Baltar is doing what he is doing. His affection for her has never gone away, even with all of his faults and missteps.

There follows the biggest set-piece of the episode, the larger story and Season Four in general. The Battle of the Colony is a really engaging blend of some of the previous combats we have seen, most especially Galactica fighting against all odds in “Exodus (Part Two)” and the internal chaos that was a big part of “The Oath” and “Blood On The Scales”. “Daybreak (Part Two)” builds up to it in the limited time available, making good use of a preparation montage to really get across the complexity of what is about to occur and the various strands that will need to all go right in order for the operation to succeed. We even get what will be the last of the Adama speeches, this one more fatalistic than others, but no less intriguing. The stage is set for something really special.

It might not be as big as that which we saw in “He That Believeth In Me” or have the operatic nature of that portrayed in “The Hub”, but the Battle of the Colony unfolds as something special nonetheless. We jump from set-piece to set-piece: the Vipers trying desperately to hold off the Raiders in the “air”; the Raptors getting slaughtered carrying out their own missions; the guns of Galactica going toe-to-toe with their Cylon counterparts like old “ships of the line”; the away teams invading the Colony itself, with Centurion pitted against Centurion; and then later the utter pandemonium that unfolds on Galactica itself, its hallways and rooms, right up to the CIC, a battleground all of its own.

And yet, despite all of this spectacle, despite all of the chaos, “Daybreak (Part Two)” never strays into the realm of mindless violence and titillating destruction. It always comes back to characters, even if our glimpses of them are fleeting. To take each of the scenarios presented in the last paragraph under such a lens, we see Hot Dog, now CAG, leading the Vipers; Racetrack and Skulls’ last ride with the Raptors; the CIC staff barely holding it together under the Cylon onslaught; Athena and Helo coming face-to-face with Boomer on the Colony; and Hera’s walk through the chaos on Galactica. The scale of what is happening is indeed immense, but whether it is because of plot pivotal moments like Baltar and Caprica Six finding Hera amidst the gunfights or just our look at characters long established in the thick of the fighting, like Hot Dog, it all means so much more to us. That’s in keeping with the entire run of BSG really, and the Battle of the Colony is just the latest and last success in terms of major action set-pieces.

The climax comes as the Cycle converges, and BSG attempts to make coherent sense out of many of the clues and plot points that has popped up over the last few years. The opera house, the triumvirate visions, Baltar’s destiny as Hera’s “father”, it all comes down to this. In the midst of it all Boomer’s choice to hand Hera back over to her family and then accept her death is practically overshadowed, but is an important resonating point of the story, the final landmark on her own remarkable journey from Cylon sleeper agent to Cylon turncoat. Her final words indicate she is undertaking the act as much for Adama as anything else: her attempted assassination of the Admiral in “Kobol’s Last Gleaming (Part Two)” remains the key moment of her entire arc, the thing she has done so much, good and bad, to try and make up for. This is the last thing that she can do, and while it is debatable whether we can call it a fully redemptive moment – so many people have died because of her actions just within the last few episodes – Boomer at least goes out as her own person making her own choices, free of the control of Cavil or any programming, and crucially free of any allegiances that she won’t be able to stick to.

There follows a remarkable sequence where Hera wanders around the battlefield, and then comes into the orbit of Baltar and Caprica Six, now having joint visitations from their Head counterparts. The visions and the prophecies became manifest, as Caprica, Athena and Roslin converge on Hera’s location and the opera house, now essentially a form of Cylon projection, guides Baltar and Caprica to bring Hera to the CIC. It’s easy to feel a little let down by all of that: the opera house especially has been a recurring motif since the conclusion of Season One, and is here revealed to be little more than a method to get three characters from one room to another. It’s evidence again of the writers having to square the circle of beats that were initially written up without a definitive endpoint in mind, and while this is as good as they can do – and there is lots to enjoy, from the “angels” appearing together for the first time, to the break from cinema verite style and on to the last great coming together in the CIC – it still feels somewhat insubstantial. To re-iterate, what it all comes down to is get all of these people – Hera, Baltar, Caprica, Roslin, Athena, Cavil, Adama and the Five – together in one room, and it seems an overly-complicated way of doing that. Still, I can’t fault the sense of tension and excitement that the whole sequence is able to engender in the viewer, operatic in sound and sight, as we come to the beginning of the end for BSG.

It’s remarkable in a way that it all comes down to a speech from Baltar. It’s his final sermon, and last roll as a religious leader, and seemingly everything that he has been trained for. It all leads up to this, the moment when he has to somehow convince Cavil, of all people, to put his faith in the Cycle, and the idea that some form of higher power wants everyone to get what they want out of the encounter.

And in fairness, Baltar seems to know his audience. Yes, he spends the opening half re-iterating what everyone around him really must acknowledge: that they have all seen too many strange things over the last few years to be in a position to dismiss the supernatural, the divine, destiny. Baltar alone has had so many brushes with “God”, in episodes like “33”, “The Hand Of God”, “Fragged”, “Lay Down Your Burdens (Part Two)”, “Rapture” and wherever else. It’s undeniable that something greater than everyone present is occurring, and in a way I do wonder if this section of dialogue might be an early riposte to the people who claimed unhappiness with a “God did it” ending: God’s been involved since the very start, and pretending otherwise is foolish.

But then Baltar tailors an argument more suited for the ears of Cavil, which is an offer of escape. All everyone has to do is have a little bit of faith for just a very short time, and they can all get what they want: Hera, resurrection and most importantly of all an escape from the Cycle. The Fleet goes one way, Cavil and his Cylons go another. This kind of salvation doesn’t come around all that often, and it is the crux of what Baltar, and Tigh I suppose, offers. The only question is whether everyone present, from Adama to Cavil, have the courage to actually go for it.

It’s an interesting set-up. I don’t for a moment believe that Cavil is being totally honest when he accepts the proffered deal, it would be just like him to get what he wants and then order the Cylons to open fire on Galactica again. But he’s smart enough, and logical enough, to see the opportunity that is put before him. I suppose, on a deeper level, it might just be possible that Cavil is being genuine, approaching the idea much as a machine would, an exchange where both sides come out happy and then the possibility of a future where he doesn’t have to spend his time being obsessed with humanity. But I don’t think that Cavil is really that person.

The climactic moment unfolds in a very rapid few minutes, where we barely get the time to get used to the sight of Cavil and company at their ease in the CIC. It’s here we get another somewhat convenient plot point, as all of the Final Five must commune in the Cylon goo to transfer the secret behind resurrection. While it has been hinted that such data requires all five of them to work in concert in “No Exit”, the image of them literally doing it all at the same time, and this only coming up here when it provides for the most drama, is a little hard to swallow. But such is the extent of the tension that has been created beforehand that I think it is easy to forgive.

The other thing that helps of course is the crisis that it will inevitable engender, when we learn that the minds and memories of the Five will all be open to the others during the process, which is a bit of a problem for Tory. She’s fallen out of the plot big time in the second half of Season Four, relegated to the odd bit of sniping in episodes like “Deadlock”, when she seemed so important to things as a designated antagonist in the first half. It’s only here that the chickens come home to roost for her murder of Cally in “The Ties That Bind”, and the only thing she can do to defend herself is to plead that everyone will just let bygones be bygones. The more confident naysayer has seemingly vanished.

Tyrol will be the agent of nemesis in this particular encounter. I am always struck by the sheer rage that the character exhibits here. We might consider his previous claims, in “Escape Velocity”, that he never really cared much for Cally, though it was left unclear whether that was a dearly held sentiment. Here, the answer seems to be more straightforward. There are no words, no hesitation, no heed for the larger situation: he clamps his hands around Tory’s throat and snaps her neck when strangling seems a bit too slow. Tyrol has been pushed to the utmost in Season Four: the revelation that he was a Cylon, the loss of Cally, Earth, the loss of his son, the tragedy of his last encounter with Boomer. Everything seems tailor made to have reduced his ability to trust in people, and to relate to them in any way. This, the final betrayal, is the breaking point. He murders Tory, and then just sits, silent, stewing, the last remnants of what connections he had to society finally destroyed in the act.

Of course there are many other consequences. A gunfight breaks out in the CIC, and in a moment that I feel might be the most disappointing of the finale, Cavil very quickly decides it isn’t worth fighting it out, and with just a “Frak!” puts his gun in his mouth and fires. Give the complexity of the character that had emerged over time, this seems a very understated method of bringing his story to a conclusion. There is a method of course: Cavil, not unlike Boomer actually, goes out on his own terms, unwilling to be victim of humanity, or one of their prisoners. He also must realise that the secret of resurrection may be gone forever with Foster’s death. His lack of heed for anything else in the situation, the slightest possibility of escape for example, does seem true to the man who so blindly created the rift in Cylon society in “Six Of One”. But I still wanted more for John Cavil. Of course this isn’t the very last we will see of the character, and the decision for him to be removed from the narrative as bluntly as he is here may well have been influenced by the knowledge that a very big future project was being dedicated to him.

On a larger level, despite the problems of the Five’s convenient plot involvement and Cavil’s quick death, I do sort of appreciate the structure of this climax. The peaceful resolution that Baltar talked up is subverted wonderfully, as the Cycle seems to have one last bloody influence on events before humanity gets the chance to break free of it entirely. But still, in all things, the unseen hand of fate seems to be evident: Tyrol helped create Cavil; Cavil betrayed him and snuck him into Colonial society; he eventually married Cally; he finds out he was a Cylon, and hides it from Cally; Cally finds out, and is immediately murdered by another Cylon; Tyrol finds out in this moment of highest drama, when his acting in revenge ruins a hastily arranged truce; the chaos of that truce breakdown means Galactica has to make a blind jump; said blind jump leads to salivation. It’s a long and tortured path, and only one road in a twisting tapestry that includes so many other characters being present at the fateful moment. Some might complain of there being too much intricacy, but for me I think the writers did as good a job, in the larger narrative sense, as they could have done to bring the elements together, let them play out, and still surprise the audience a bit.

The last piece of the puzzle is the final, long-awaited resolution of “Starbuck’s Destiny”. We’ve been dancing with this concept for such a lengthy period now, and at times – “The Road Less Traveled” springs to mind – it has seemed interminable. But all it leads up to this moment when it is Starbuck ordered to slap some random FTL coordinates into the computer so Galactica can avoid destruction.

We’ve been waiting so long for this moment, that one can forgive the desire from the writers and showrunners for us to have the chance to drink it all in, arguably the decisive plot point of the entire run. This is why Thrace has been sent back: to realise her place in the larger Cycle, to reconcile that place with her role in the creation of the Music, and to employ that Music at the right time and place. The realisation of what the Music actually is – nothing less than the most important set of numbers in the universe when they are boiled down to that kind of numerical function – is not a stunning one, though the unlikelihood of events is greater than viewers might realise (see below). All of the struggle, all of the loss, all of the pain that has come before, for everyone but I suppose especially for Starbuck, leads to the moment of recognition: this is the purpose she has spent the second half of Season Four trying to find. The jump gets made – and of course it is the last sacrifice of Galactica, which can do no more for its crew and humanity in general – and, at last, at long, long last, that beautiful blue globe comes into view.

Earth, that is our Earth, seems to serve as reward for humanity and the rebel Cylons. The question has been asked, to to why the “God” entity of this universe felt the need to present that alliance, and the destined Kara Thrace, with the nuked remains of the “real” Earth at all. For me, it comes down to the events that we saw in “The Hub”, when Roslin was tested by some aspect of that divine will, asked to demonstrate the capacity for mankind’s love and brotherhood in the form of saving the life of a man she despised. Perhaps the second half of Season Four constituted another, final, test of faith, to see if humanity could meet the worst possible circumstance and keep going, keep making the moral choices – like, say, risking everything to save one child – and, as Adama asked all those episodes ago, prove itself worthy of being saved. Some people, like Gaeta and Zarek in “The Oath” for example, failed that test. Others – Adama in going after Hera, Roslin in surrendering again to her role in the Cycle, Starbuck in rejecting despair, Baltar in attempting to find a peaceful way out at the death – pass it. And in so doing, they have finally done enough to satisfy “God” that not only should humanity and the rebel Cylons reach the promised land, but they should have the greater opportunity to break free of the Cycle themselves.

The remainder of the episode unfolds as an extended epilogue, and if there is one TV show that has earned the right to make the most of this space, then it is BSG. But now we have to talk about the hole in the story. In choosing the time period for the Colonials to arrive on our planet as they did, the necessity for an explanation as to why we aren’t currently zipping around the universe with FTL drives also had to be explained. The solution is one that is the biggest mark against “Daybreak (Part Two)” as all and sundry jump at Lee’s idealistic vision of a life without technology. Any technology. It’s all to be sent flying into the sun, with the Colonials and the Cylons left with the clothes on their backs and whatever basic things they can carry.

Thematically, this does work. BSG has been a show marked by the conflict between the biological and the synthetic, and more recently by the efforts of certain characters to break out of the cycle of that conflict. This action accomplishes that goal, and helps to draw a line underneath the merging of Colonial and Cylon societies, so something better can be created. It also sidesteps the uncomfortable association some might have had at the idea of “Colonials” landing in Africa and taking over the place from the natives. I even appreciate some of the character work that goes with it, not least Lee’s joy at the idea of becoming an explorer, and the visual of humanity breaking up to begin their new lives together. But its implementation in the narrative is undeniably weak. If BSG had done the work beforehand to set this up, it might not have been so bad, and there were opportunities to do so. Have a strain of anti-technology sentiment sweep the Fleet throughout Season Four as part of the general unrest, hell even tie it to Baltar’s Cult, who were set-up to become the pre-eminent power in the Fleet ahead of the finale. Just something so that when this decision is taken and all 38’000 survivors are happy to go along with it, it does not feel like a fundamental reach.

There’s just too many fridge logic problems with this: what happens when someone gets sick? What happens when the weather turns? What happens with the elderly, the less able? Indeed, that last one has a bit of an unpleasant answer, as the idea of taking Anders into this brave new world is rejected in favour of, essentially, euthanising him. Is he the only one? I don’t want to appear flippant, but there is just too much convenience in all of this, another blunt effort to square a circle that has been a hallmark of a lot of Season Four’s writing.

All that is left then, bar the epilogue, is the goodbyes. We’ll start with Adama and Roslin. She’s been the dying leader of prophecy, but unlike Moses she gets a short space to enjoy the promised land. But short is all it is: we can see as soon as we get to watch her and Adama on Earth’s surface that the end really is near for her now. Like Galactica, she’s given all that she can give. She’s struggled, and ground and suffered so much for this moment, and her final rest is very near at hand.

That leaves Adama with his own choice. He decides to say goodbye to his son, to Starbuck, to everyone. He’s tied himself to Roslin: his life is now her life, and when Roslin dies there won’t be much left for him but memory. Galactica has passed too, and Roslin has been so heavily tied to that ship over the last few episodes that the two are almost one and the same in the eyes of Adama. Some might find it strange that Adama essentially concludes his relationship with his son in the manner that he does, but me not so much: the man who smiled looking up at the stars all those years ago has found a new star to follow, with one last journey to go. His identity has long been as an Admiral, but that’s gone now. It’s for the younger generation, like Apollo, to step up and lead humanity now. Adama has earned a different reward, as Roslin hinted to him in “A Disquiet Follows My Soul”.

Roslin’s passing is a quiet, respectful thing, one that comes with her realisation of her own victory: her last sight the teeming wildlife of humanity’s new home, that she has helped guide them to. She deserves more life, but must be content with giving so much to everyone else. Adama is left heartbroken, but still strangely hopeful: it’s possible to imagine him joining Roslin in death soon enough, but as the final scenes of the show exhibit, for at least a time he is going to live out the dream that the two shared of a cabin in a nice spot, one that catches the light just right. It’s a beautiful way to close off this section of proceedings.

Apollo and Starbuck have a different goodbye. Freed from the responsibilities of being a political leader, of being an officer, Lee is joyful. The thought of exploring a new world thrills him, the kind of unknown possibilities they spent the last four year fighting to make possible. He too has lost a lot in that process, and he has one more loss to suffer.

It’s a cathartic moment when Starbuck declares that she is “done”. She was sent back with a singular purpose, and that purpose achieved she seems to have found a contentment that was never possible in her previous life. We have spent so much time seeing a damaged woman trying to find healing, in episodes like “Scar” and so many others, that it is a genuine relief when she seems to exhibit that sense of healing right here, almost a divine intervention. She has nothing left to accomplish, and whatever comes after to look forward to. Her sudden disappearance raises more questions about just what the nature of Starbuck after “Maelstrom” was, but that doesn’t really matter: all that matters is that Starbuck ended this part of her existence a wholer person, at peace with herself, her destiny and with Apollo. The two were never suited as a romantic pairing, from the moment they drunkenly came close to having sex with each other on the night they met all the way through the scope of BSG, but they end things the right way here: Apollo can hold the memory of Starbuck like his father holds Roslin’s.

Baltar and Caprica Six get a suitably heart-warming conclusion, after all they have done and experienced, together and apart. The events of the last few episodes have thrown them back together, and done a lot to heal a relationship that seemed so fundamentally broken after the events of New Caprica and after. Caprica finds reason to be proud of Baltar in “Daybreak (Part Two)”, a vitally missing element of their relationship thus far, one where Caprica’s love for Baltar often seemed like a one way street. And Baltar finds a way to actually demonstrate selflessness, after the way his character was raked over the coals by Lee in “Daybreak (Part One)”.

More important than any of that, Baltar comes to a sort of peace with himself in the final moments given to him by BSG. It isn’t made expressly clear in words, but when he indicates a desire to become a farmer, something he knows about, it’s a sign that the man who turned his back on where he came from, and was so at odds with his father, is no longer at war with that part of himself. The whole story of this two-parter, as it pertains to Baltar anyway, seems to indicate that the root cause of his defects – the narcissism, the ego, the inherent weakness – stems from this rejection. At the end, discharged from God’s service, he is able to embrace it once again. Caprica Six is there to acknowledge that acceptance, and embrace it too. One naturally thinks of the conclusion of “Blood On The Scales” and Baltar’s insistence that he “knew” who Gaeta really was: here, Caprica performs the same service for Baltar. We don’t know if Baltar and Caprica have a firm future together, because if there is one thing sure about the good Doctor it is that he is prone to making big gestures of being a changed man and then falling back into old habits. But he has a shot, in a world where he no longer has the means, or the need, to make himself the centre of peoples’ universe.

As stated, there’s no real way that Anders can embark with the others on this new journey, and to him is appointed the final task of guiding Galactica, and the Fleet towards its end. He and Starbuck get a very heartrending goodbye scene, one that ties into their farewell to each other in “The Farm”. They managed to find a way back to each other after that, and one suspects that if there is the space to do so, they will find a way to do it again in a different form of existence: certainly that is what seems to be inferred by Anders’ final lines. Kara and Sam might not be perfect for each other, but they do seem to be the very definition of star-crossed.

In a powerful sequence, Anders guides the vessels that have shepherded humanity this far into the heart of the Sun, embracing the kind of mathematical perfection in doing so that he has long sought. I do not need to put down in words that it means to see Galactica, and the other ships, for the last time I hope, other than to say that the very best science-fiction will always make you think of certain spaceships – the Enterprise, the Millennium Falcon, Serenity, the Normandy – as more than just a collection of metal and wire. The Battlestar Galactica is one such ship, and in its last mission earned the right to this Viking funeral.

Tyrol too is able to find some peace on Earth. His decision to seek out the existence of a hermit is in keeping with the journey he has been taken on in Season Four: with everyone he has allowed to get close to him either dead or guilty of betraying him, this outcome is as positive a one as can be found for the Chief. It will be a hard, lonely life, but the difficulties of it will not present such a terrible thing for Tyrol, and the loneliness will provide an avenue for healing that would not otherwise be possible. Our last look at Tyrol as he walks away is of a man smiling, almost looking forward to the future, and that’s something.

Lastly, and maybe appropriately given the mission of the episode, the very last shots of this time period are the Agathons. “Daybreak (Part Two)” teases the possibility of Helo not making it through, but he does so, and gets to re-unite his family, probably the fullest happy ending that BSG provides. The miserable fall into dark thinking that defined Athena recently has been banished, and the rift between them appears to have been healed. In “Islanded In A Stream Of Stars (Extended)”, Helo said that his daughter was the one good thing to come out of everything: now there is a lot more good, and after everything that Helo, Athena and Hera have experienced together, they get to enjoy it together. There is a deep sense of contentment with that, that good things do come to those who strive for them, and keep the faith.

We go to blackout on a last sight of Adama enjoying a sunrise, but while we can take BSG as ending its emotional journey on that moment, it still has a little bit more to say. A last glimpse of Hera walking through the green fields, a brief montage of rolling landscapes and waterways, and suddenly 150’000 years have passed. The episode pointed to a hopeful conclusion where humanity and Cylon would have the chance to break out of the Cycle by joining together and leaving their past behind them, and that promise appears to have been fulfilled.

But still, warning signs remain. The modern surrounds of New York City bear an uncomfortable similarity to Caprica at its height, and the advance of technology, especially robotics, continues apace. Hera’s generation provided us with the chance to make a new future, but the possibility of slipping back into old patterns of moving too far, too fast remains, as surely as the Music seemingly remains locked within the larger human psyche. In other words, BSG is warning us that our greater and greater leap away from Apollo’s ideal world may lead to nothing good.

But still, even with that glum premonition, there is hope. The last word for BSG is given to Head Six and Head Baltar, and she at least believes that we have the chance to continue our break away from the Cycle and avoid the kind of catastrophe that engulfed Kobol, the first Earth and the Colonies. She couches this feeling in mathematical terms – Anders would approve – something that remains within “God’s plan”. Head Baltar is more interested in an all-too-brief word on the nature of that “God”, but the moment passes as quickly as it came, he content to let it drop. BSG seems to be telling us to not focus too much on the exact nature of divine forces: instead we should be thinking more about the future, and how we are going to shape it. We have the chance to do so, because of what human and Cylon did all those years ago, but we will never be entirely free of our nature either. Appropriate then I suppose the lyrics that play us out, that speaks to the possibility of trouble ahead, but also a choice: “Outside in the cold distance, a wild cat did growl, two riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl”.

When the sun comes from behind those mountains, it’s almost heavenly. It reminds me of you.

Notes

-Love this opening glimpse of a neon infused Caprica City skyline, which seems almost Blade Runner-esque in a way.

-Cut to Adama and Tigh in a strip club, which is about as far removed from their “present day” circumstances as you can imagine. The future Admiral is visibly uncomfortable.

-Tigh, on the other hand, is having the time of his life, giving a hearty “Yeah!” to the undressing women, which was hilarious.

-In Zak and Kara’s apartment, Lee places his idealism directly against Starbuck regards things like voting, and is promptly laughed at. The dynamic of their characters, and relationship to each other, seems to have been established quick.

-Lee decries his fathers adherence to his own strict code that surrounds “his uniform, his system, his way of life”, but even in making such a speech he outs himself as more like his father than he cares to admit.

-Adama asks Tigh if he’d take some cushy desk job, and Tigh can’t even pretend it is something he would contemplate. A life of skeezy strip clubs and ease is not what Adama and Tigh were made for.

-Apollo’s justification for his service is presented in the simple tones of “four years of college for four years of service”, but he’s not fooling many. I had almost forgotten that he was a reservist at the time of the Miniseries.

-There is an immediate and obvious sexual tension between Apollo and Starbuck as they drop a drunken Zak on the couch. She’s happy to get all too close to Lee, and Lee isn’t running away.

-Roslin greets her date for the evening, and in a moment of awkward horror that seems positively alien to the show, realises that the guy is a former student of hers. I was a never a fan of this plot point, maybe just because it is so fundamentally skeezy.

-And doubly so since, in another case of alcohol leading to bad choices, Roslin decides to just go with it. It’s not that it’s an unbelievable choice for her to make in that time and place, but it’s still somewhat revolting.

-Adama stumbles out of the strip club and, after throwing up on himself, smiles at the stars. That’s where he truly belongs.

-Nice opening shot of the “present” as we see Baltar sitting alone in the now deserted and stripped down Cult compartment.

-Cottle doesn’t mince words with Roslin, telling her that in taking the shots and staying with Galactica she is using “the last bit of life you got”. After two days she’ll have barely anything left, but that’s her choice.

-If “Daybreak (Part Two)” is an episode with an abundance of tear-jerking scenes, then the first is Roslin’s heartfelt gratitude and goodbye to Cottle. He’s helped her stay alive, and it’s something that Cottle himself is moved nearly to his own tears by this instance.

-Athena appears in the ready room as Helo gives his briefing: tired, a little ragged, but with a new hope in her face that makes Helo smile. It’s a nice moment.

-Helo looks for Raptor crews to volunteer for an especially dangerous mission, and is heartened by the number putting their hands up: “That’s my Raptor wranglers. Always looking for new and interesting ways to get killed”.

-A good preparation montage follows, as we go around the ship to see the plan in action, from marines, to pilots, to gunners to the CIC crew. This isn’t just some desperate effort where Galactica will show up and hope for the best, there is thought behind it.

-Apollo is seemingly leading the marine contingent, which again calls to mind the strange reality of the marines having no visible officers. Remember that Tigh claimed there were thousands of them remaining in “The Passage”.

-Adama still isn’t messing around, telling his gun crews “to continue to fire until they run out of ammo. Then, I want them to start throwing rocks”. No point conserving ammo I suppose.

-Anders is moved to the CIC, giving us the rather bizarre image of his Hybrid bath overlooking the DRADIS console.

-Seemingly the highest ranking officer to not go with the mission, Hoshi is promoted to Admiral, provisionally anyway. Adama places his truth in Hoshi here, and it’s clear the junior officer is moved.

-“Still not too late to flush them all out the airlock” says Tigh as the Cylons work on the ship. “Take too much time” says Adama, in one of the episodes’ funnier moments.

-Colonial democracy takes another hit, as Romo Lampkin is tapped to take up the role of President, the last as it will turn out. To quote him from “Sine Qua Non” though, “we could do worse”. Don’t think I missed the deeper meaning of Lee’s “What goes around, comes around” comment to Lampkin either.

-After Hoshi maintains an honourific for Lee, Apollo makes sure to give the new leadership the salute their rank deserves: “President of the Colonies, Admiral of the Fleet, departing”. Lampkin and Hoshi make an odd pair, a real “what if?” in the making.

-Baltar’s choice to stay on Galactica happens to quickly, and his parting words to the Cult are a very simple rejection and criticism all rolled into one: “I never belonged to you, you just appropriated me”.

-Love Lee acknowledging Baltar’s choice to remain by simply tossing him a rifle. Yeah it’s a nice thing for Baltar to stay, but there are consequences.

-Then the rebel Centurions arrive, very impressive in formation, and I like that almost blood-like sash they wear to identify themselves.

-Adama’s last speech is stirring in its own way, a nod to the finality of the situation and the devil-may-care aspect of everything: “Just so there’ll be no misunderstandings later, Galactica’s seen a lot of history. Gone through a lot of battles. This will be her last. She will not fail us if we do not fail her. If we succeed in our mission, Galactica will bring us home. If we don’t…It doesn’t matter anyway. Action, stations.”

-The McCreary music that begins here is “Assault On The Colony”, at 15 minutes the longest single piece he made for the show. Less well-remembered than “Prelude To War” or “Storming New Caprica”, it’s still a wild ride of drum-heavy excitement and tight violins.

-Galactica gets battered after its jump in, seemingly a full minute of footage of Cylon ordnance raining down on her. The episode maybe even over-eggs it a bit, considering the ship is meant to be on her last legs.

-Sam’s intervention takes a while, but is a great salvation moment when it comes, the Cylon defences shut down as the two Hybrids communicate with each other.

-A slight nit-pick as we see a group of Raptors perform FTL jumps from inside typically unused flight pod. When Boomer did this in “Someone To Watch Over Me”, with one Raptor, it wrecked the larger ship.

-Adama enacts his plan with a “Hit it!” and like the “Adama manoeuvre” of “Exodus (Part Two)” it’s a cool action that the audience hasn’t been let in on.

-Love that visual of Galactica’s crocodile head smashing through the Colony exterior. Getting it done, any way they can.

-I also love our brief glimpse of the DRADIS console, one of our last as it happens, the screen positively covered in red dots.

-We’ll never really get a firm answer on just how intelligent the Centurions are, but in the advance through the Colony they employ hand signals to direct their human comrades around.

-Poor Racetrack and Skulls. Always given the toughest of missions, they go out the way you would expect. Of course they have one more posthumous part to play.

-Really like the quick glimpse of Adama directing the gun batteries and Tigh directing the Viper wings at the same time. The Admiral and the XO are as involved in this fight as anyone else.

-Cavil has seemingly fallen back on the use of “old” Centurion models to make up a shortfall in troops. They were last seen in Razor.

-Our last proper glimpse at a Simon sees two characteristics established in “The Farm”: a casually detached view of the universe as he insists the Colonials will be defeated through Cylon force of numbers (“In the the end it’s all about mathematics”) and his obliviousness ahead of Boomer killing him.

-A fair bit of the CGI budget for the episode probably goes into the few shots of the opposing Centurion armies going toe-to-toe, complete with an execution-style killing of a “wounded” clanker. This is close as the final battle really gets to being pure spectacle, but you can forgive one instance.

-Cavil refuses to accept any responsibility for Boomer’s actions, or express any understanding beyond sheer mechanical reasoning: “I simply miscalculated her need to engage in gestures of futility.”

-And, very much like a machine obligated to talk down to those he considers inferior, he has no time for the prattling of others: “Please continue stating the perfectly obvious”.

-Caprica gets a brief moment, before the firefights, to tell Baltar that she is proud of him and, more crucially, that this “was the only thing missing”. She’s had a lot of ups and downs with Baltar, a man she has loved, and maybe still does, and this positive affirmation of his character, belated as it is, brings that affection back up.

-We still have room for Head comedy of course, as Baltar and Caprica say the same lines at the same time in response to the premonition they will hold humanity’s fate in their hands: “I will?…You see them?”

-It’s “Valley Of Darkness” revisited as Centurions board Galactica. The bloody outcome of that previous encounter can only mean this will be worse.

-Boomer’s choice goes beyond just handing Hera over, she also advises the Colonials how to get out. It’s a remarkable turnaround, but the ground was laid in the scenes with Hera in “Islanded In A Stream Of Stars”.

-“Today I made a choice. I think it’s my last one”. Control of her own actions, and fate, is Boomer’s victory over her past, even if means her life is over.

-Roslin briefly serves as a nurse in the medbay, albeit not a terribly good one. It’s a way of getting her involved though, so you have to appreciate it.

-An important visual moment I think, as the gun batteries of Galactica are destroyed. Like with the magnetic systems of the Viper tubes, the removal of these is a symbol of Galactica’s purpose coming to an end.

-Excellent look at the CIC in an increasing state of chaos, with the ship coming down around Adama and Tigh’s ears. Galactica doesn’t have a whole lot more to give.

-Baltar and Caprica fight off a Centurion attack side-by-side, which is not terribly believable in the case of the Doctor, but still forms a good image of the two uniting in purpose ahead of more important events.

-A Doral emerges from a side hallway to shoot at the group carrying Hera, and I think this might be a nod to his appearance in “Litmus”?

-Helo gets shot, and it was at this point that I was reminded of the reality that major characters were very much under threat.

-I just love the sequence where Hera walks through the madness. It really emphasises her importance, and the depth of what’s going on.

-The strains of “The Shape Of Things To Come” come through in these moments, as does a familiar Latin accompaniment: “All of this has happened before, all of this will happen again, so say we all”.

-Cavil’s advance through Galactica is something to see, his utterly calm walk as Centurions blast away around him. The music here is the beginning of “Baltar’s Sermon”.

-Roslin’s purpose in this last little bit of the Cycle is seemingly to protect Hera from that advancing force, if only for a moment. It gets her involved, which is important.

-Great sequence as we see the CIC briefly engulfed in combat, with even Adama sticking bullets in a Simon. It’s all coalescing around one moment now.

-Caprica Six catches a glimpse of the Five in the CIC, and it matches up to the opera house image of the glowing white figures that were a big part of “Rapture”. It’s a good connection.

-Adama is surprised to see Hera in the CIC, but still not sure I quite like his line of “They’ve got the little girl!” Just seems odd, he’s called her “Hera” before.

-Cavil grabs Hera, and a Mexican standoff results. Was this also part of Baltar’s destiny, that he bring Hera to the CICI just so she could be grabbed by someone else?

-He really shouldn’t have to at this point, but Baltar still has to give a brief outline of why no on can approach the crisis rationally because of what they have all seen: “Puzzles deciphered in prophecy. Dreams given to a chosen few. Our loved ones, dead, risen”.

-No more denials, no more resorts to sheer naked rationality regards the higher power: “It’s here, it exists”.

-Cavil’s questions are what you would expect of him: viewing the existence of a God purely in terms of how it works out for him and his side of things. He views an Almighty first and foremost as a potential problem.

-Baltar’s answer calls back all the way to his final lines of the Miniseries. There he said that he himself was not on anyone’s side, beginning an amoral journey where he spent a lot of time looking out for himself alone. Here, he leaves that position to the Almighty that he has been a prophet of sorts for: “God’s not on any one side.”

-Finally, Baltar’s argument boils down to a simple urge that calls back to his own battle against Paulla’s cynicism in “Deadlock”: “It requires a leap of faith. It requires that we live in hope, not fear.”

-Tigh throws in his own pot sweetener: the secret of resurrection. It’s a tempting prize, and more than enough for Cavil to at least play along with a truce he probably has no intention of holding long-term.

-I like the glimpse of the Cylon Raiders – our last look at the design as it happens – breaking off and then flying in formation, still seeming dangerous.

-There really is a strange sense of calm in the CIC in the aftermath: the two once-warring parties just mill around amid the destruction and death, nervously waiting for a resolution.

-Cavil is able to get in one last amazing moment of snark: “I don’t mean to rush you, but you are keeping two civilisations waiting!”

-Tyrol pulls his hand out of the water and everything goes to hell, with Anders screaming, like the Hybrid in “The Hub”, in an extended moment of horror.

-Season Four has been very good at capturing chaotic moments, and our last is how crazy things get in the CIC. Guns fire, people die, Cavil kills himself and Tyrol brutally naps the neck of Tory. It’s all going on.

-The music for this section is the excellent “Kara’s Coordinates”, which starts at a breakneck pace an then melds into a slower but powerful version of the Music.

-Racetrack’s last shot is a devastating one, that’s for sure, as she nudges the fire button on what I presume is all of the nukes Galactica had left. The Colony is toast, and with that, is the Cavil-led Cylon race? Especially without Hera or resurrection?

-We can’t leave things without one more nod to the lyrics of the Music, as Starbuck takes to the FTL console by saying “There must be some kind of way out of here”.

-We really didn’t need the rapid montage of flashbacks to “Someone To Watch Over Me” in this moment, as a reminder of Stabuck’s interactions with the Piano Man. Give the audience a little credit.

-Nice effect as Kara’s strokes of the keypad are sounded like they are piano keys.

-We suddenly find ourselves back before the fall with Lee and Starbuck discussing the nature of fear: “I know fear, and I get scared, just not of dying”. I’m not sure what the writers are trying to say by putting this point here, maybe that the “present” Thrace is trying to merge with the attitude of her old self.

-Apollo and Kara are suddenly very close at that kitchen table, and the moment is as sexually charged as it can get. You’ll almost miss Starbuck’s pronouncement on her real fear: “Being forgotten”.

-Galacrica quite literally bends, and almost twists a little, in the aftermath of its last FTL jump, a very neat effect to emphasise how damaging it was.

-From the look on his face as he sits on the floor of the CIC, we can tell this really is the very last straw for Galen Tyrol. He’s got nothing left now.

-It’s all over for Galacica, with Tigh pronouncing the death sentence: “She’s broke her back…she’ll never jump again”.

-The music for this section is the appropriately titled “Earth”, as McCreary merges the “Caprica, Before The Fall” theme into something a bit more triumphant.

-Amazing reveal as we see Galactica framed against a desolate looking rock, which of course is Luna. We pull back to see the glorious image of Earth in the distance.

-I like the zoom over Earth as the Fleet arrives, I think to make especially clear to the audience that it is not a nuked wasteland.

-It’s a bit of a vsiaul shock, our transition to blue skies and green fields. Like “The Eye Of Jupiter”, the filming location for the Earth scenes is land near Kamloops, north-west of Vancouver.

-Hoshi is delighted to be back with the larger military: “Lt Hoshi suits me just fine”.

-“The most advanced civilisation on this planet” appear to be an early example of a homo sapiens group, situated in what is known as the “Peopling of Africa” period of our evolution. While not a universally accepted idea, the timeframe of being circa 150’000 years ago matches with the theory of “behavioural modernity” being evident from that time: that is, early humans beginning to demonstrate abstract thought, depth of planning, artistic expression, complexity of communication and greater technological prowess

-Baltar confirms that humanity could mate with the natives, leading Adama to remark “You got a one track mind doc”. Baltar is affronted, leading to an even better response: “You also have no sense of humour”.

-Adama declares the native to be “our new families”. Humanity, and the Cylons, are here to stay.

-Apollo’s vision of humanity’s future is as idealistic as we have maybe seen from him, but you have to be struck by the poetry of it: “If there’s one thing that we should have learned it’s that…our brains
have always outraced our hearts. Our science charges ahead, our souls lag behind. Let’s start anew.”

-The closest we get to a final survivors count here is Adama noting that “little more than 38’000” people are ready to settle on Earth from the Fleet. The syndicated versions of the story note 39’406 people left after the Battle of the Colony. With the first count of “33” being 50’298, that means we’ve lost over a fifth of humanity on the way.

-Lee declares that they can give the natives “the best part of ourselves” in language and culture. There’s a certain condescension in that sentiment, but works as a rejection of all the negative baggage that humanity caries.

-The final plan is for the Fleet’s population to be divided between continents and left to live their lives. How the make-up of these groups would be decided is something I would love to see, but you can’t have room for everything.

-Lampkin perhaps hangs too much of a lantern on things when he remarks “I’m shocked at how amenable everyone is” regards this plan.

-It’s not brilliant CGI for our last glimpse at the Centurions, an entity that I think remains underexplored. Still, nice fuzzy feelings for their liberation, whose nature has a chance of breaking the Cycle too.

-Kara and Sam’s goodbye is marked by two potent references to their previous lives: the dogtags that Starbuck left Anders in “The Farm” and a reprise of “A Promise To Return”, now given more finality as “Goodbye Sam”.

-“I’ll see you on the other side”. I hope he does.

-Tigh noted that Adama would be on the last flight out of Galactica prior to its final mission, and that is fulfilled here, the Admiral giving one last view of Vipers, the launch tubes, and Galactica herself.

-Adama’s honour has always been important to him, and that’s perhaps never clearer when he walks out of this job interview/lie detector text “before the fall”. It’ll bring him far.

-The music here is the wonderful “The Heart Of The Sun”, a melding of the original BSG theme tune with McCreary’s signature drums, that never fails to get me welling up.

-And Galactica, and the Fleet, are sent off into the Sun. It’s a powerful moment, and if those ships have to go out, there’s little better than being burnt up by a star.

-Tyrol notes that he is going to be set down on an island “off one of the northern continents”, which was intended to be part of Scotland, with Galen an intended progenitor of the Gaels. Of course Scotland would have been underwater in that time period, but let’s not examine a somewhat tongue-in-cheek idea too closely, shall we?

-One last flashback to the strip club on Caprica shows Ellen and Tigh in a more genuinely romantic moment than we might be used to: Ellen really does seem to love her husband in this moment. It might be a bit of a retcon, but lays the ground for this longer reconciliation between the two.

-It is telling just how frail Roslin looks now, gaunt and not able to move much. Cottle wasn’t kidding.

-Adama gets the christen the new planet, and decides that the dream that was Earth deserves to be kept alive. The planet found in “Revelations” is banished from memory, now that what everyone has earned has been found.

-Roslin notes that she is having trouble breathing, and is indeed almost gasping for breath. Not long now, and Adama knows it from the look on his face.

-Adama’s goodbye to his son, the two fully reconciled after so much trouble between them, might make some question the finality of it, but I think works. “Wander My Friends” has never sounded so poignant.

-Despite the emotion of this moment, I have to note my disappointment that Adama and Tigh never get a goodbye scene. I think they deserved one.

-One last time: “Whaddya hear Starbuck?” “Nothing but the rain”. “Then grab your gun and bring in the cat”.

-You know straight away that we are about to see Starbuck for the last time when she gives that very quiet, but very heartfelt, “I am done here”.

-Oh, what you can read into with Zak’s drunken “Oops, somethings broken”. His relationship with Starbuck, his relationship with his brother, Kara in general, etc.

-The softer theme that plays for this section is “Starbuck Disappears”. No more drums or tense violins for Kara. The journey is over, and this is end.

-Lee’s joy at the prospect of a new life on Earth is wonderful, and calls back to his behaviour upon discovering Earth in “Revelations”.

-With that, Starbuck vanishes. Lee says what we are all thinking: “Goodbye Kara. You won’t be forgotten.”

-Another glimpse of the pigeon in the flashback, which now leaves Apollo’s home of its own accord, symbolic, perhaps, of Lee’s need to stop trying to control every obstacle in his life.

-In our last glimpse of her before the fall, Roslin knows she has made a mistake in sleeping with her former student. It’s her lowest moment, and it’s time to start climbing back up.

-Roslin tells the Adar campaign that she will be with them “all the way to the end”, and I think we can tie this statement to her relationship with Adama now.

-The music for Roslin’s death, a final arrangement of “Roslin And Adama” is the suitably titled “So Much Life”.

-Roslin’s last words are just perfect, a recognition of what she has found even as she passes: “So much life…”.

-Adama puts his wedding ring on Roslin’s finger, in a moving moment that calls back to the visions of “The Hub”.

-He’s not letting go of their last dream of a cabin in a nice spot, and it’s hard to stop the tears from coming: “Right there…I’m going to build it right there Laura”.

-Our penultimate bit of score is “An Easterly View” which begins as a quiet reprise of “Diaspora Oratorio”, a song whose message is now fulfilled.

-Our last glimpse of Tigh and Ellen is them walking off hand-in-hand, surprisingly understated as a goodbye, but affecting nonetheless.

-It takes a while to come, but Helo’s survival is confirmed as we see him walking with his wife and daughter across the fields, with a crutch. There’s genuine relief.

-The Agathons back as a happy family, after what happened to tear them apart in “Someone To Watch Over Me” is really the last triumph of this finale. Helo and Athena snark back-and-forth casually, not unlike the way they did all the way back in “Home (Part One)”.

-Apparently, the initial plan was for Helo and Athena to both be killed, and for Hera to then be raised by Caprica and Baltar. I prefer this version.

-Baltar almost warily asks his Head equivalent “And that’s it?”. I do love the promise of the reply: “From now on your lives will be less…eventful”.

-“The things men do for love” says Baltar, in our last look before the fall. Caprica is shocked, and Baltar quickly adds “…you know what I mean, don’t you?” Even then he was a bit of a snake, huh?

-If there’s one line I never expected to get me teary-eyed, it’s Baltar’s last, as he embraces what he left behind a long time ago: “You know, I know about farming…”

-Our last glimpse of Adama is him talking about the sunrise to Roslin’s grave: “It’s almost heavenly…reminds me of you”. Never fails to get me going. The score swells into the motif of “The Shape Of Things To Come”, but with a more triumphant feel, as we go to blackout. That could have been the end, but we have time for a bit more.

-A brief montage of rolling landscapes and seas comes under our last bit of McCreary’s score, “The Passage Of Time”, which is a new arrangement on Season Two’s “One Year Later”.

-New York City presents a familiar sight, but of course I’m sure we are meant to compare and contrast it with our earlier glimpses of Caprica City before the fall.

-Head Six reads out a report on the discovery of “Mitochondrial Eve”, which comes in an article under the headline “Mankind’s first mother”. That’s a big title for Hera to have taken on. It also notes that her fossil remains are those of “a young woman”: Hera seemingly didn’t live a long life.

-The guy reading the magazine ahead of Head Six and Baltar is, of course, Ronald D. Moore.

-Head Six ruminates on whether humanity really has broken the Cycle: “Let a complex system repeat itself long enough, eventually something surprising might occur”. It’s the chink of light amid the reality that modern-day Earth is looking a lot like Kobol, the previous Earth and Caprica, before their falls.

-Head Six remarks about “God’s plan” and Head Baltar gets an unexpectedly terse, almost threatening, reply: “You know it doesn’t like that name”. The use of “it” is very interesting, perhaps tying back into “real” Baltar’s earlier thoughts on just what “God” is in the context of BSG: “God’s a force of nature, beyond good and evil.”

-Our last lines of the show are Head Baltar reacting to Head Six’s warning expression: “Silly me. Silly, silly me”. These have tended to confuse people, though I sort of like the nebulous-nature of them, of Head Baltar being so blasé about these cosmic-level events.

-They perhaps make more sense when you see what was cut out, as seen in the recording of the cast table read. Baltar: “You know it doesn’t like that name. In any case, it would require mankind in all its flaws to have learned from its mistakes.” Six: “Stranger things have happened.” Baltar: “I think I’ll take that bet. What are the stakes?” followed by the almost sarcastic self-admonishment of “Silly me.” Was all of the interference by the Head Six and Baltar characters just an aspect of a cosmic game of chance?

-And, but of course, our final bit of music for the show is Jimi Hendrix’ iconic version of “All Along The Watchtower”. The Music seems to have seeped into the evolution of humanity, or so BSG will have us think.

-A brief montage plays of the state of robotics as it existed in 2009. I never liked this moment really: the dangers of advanced technology has been an important part of BSG of course, but this seems like beating you over the head with the allusions to real-life.

-Our last shot is of Head Six and Head Baltar walking away in the distance, becoming lost in the crowd, a myth and a fading memory in the very act. The music stops mid-note, ala The Sopranos. The story is over, time to close the book.

Overall Verdict: It suffices to say that, like any TV finale that has a lot to accomplish, “Daybreak (Part Two)” is unable to tie up every loose end to perfection. Elements of the climax, like the final fate of Cavil, rankle, and the hole in the story regards the embrace of a primitive existence on Earth will never fail to distract. Leaving those aside, this is a finale that hits every note right for me, from the breath-taking action, the emotional nature of the extended epilogue and its many constituent parts, right down to the production details of score, set and music. BSG has better episodes, and better season finales, but “Daybreak (Part Two)” has never failed to invoke in me a deep well of joyful and melancholy emotions. For that, I must give it high praise, as much as I give to the larger show.

Coming up next, we will discuss the extended edition of the “Daybreak” story.

To read more entries in this series, click here to go the index.