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Battlestar Galactica: The Pitfalls of Vision

A television show is long enough that eventually, you’re gonna stumble across the answer to whatever question you’ve asked.

One of the things that initially made Ron Moore’s Battlestar Galactica so popular was the simple fact that it had ‘vision’. Most television shows have had what are known as ‘series bibles’; documents created by the producers in order to give staff writers a sense of how the show works. Admittedly, there have been some famous television auteurs, and most of them were even working in the scifi genre; Gene Roddenberry creating Star Trek as a liberal utopia, or Chris Carter using The X-Files for his paranoid conspiracy thinking (who was, himself, inspired by David Lynch and Mark Frost making Twin Peaks). It would also be ridiculous to ignore Joss Whedon or David Chase a mere few years before Moore.

There are a few things that make Moore special here. In a way, he was institutionalizing what these other creators were doing and bringing the idea to a mass audience; I believe much of the ‘miniseries’ style of television production popular in American television these days is in debt to him, with intense levels of focus brought to both what a series is trying to say and a very consistent sense of style. And even if this isn’t factually true, I think his version of Battlestar Galactica lays out the problems with this kind of approach, precisely because it’s also so successful at points.

Moore’s series bible is a masterpiece, not just laying down the principles of the series, but selling them. One of the major reasons Moore’s BSG was so successful was because it was a violent rejection of Star Trek, which if nothing else, made it novel. I do believe Moore backs this up with substance within the context of the bible; this direction is stale and boring so we’re going in that direction, which is cool and awesome and soulful. An important part of goal-setting isn’t just knowing where you’re going, but knowing where you’re not going.

He backs this up with a very clear-eyed sense of the technical process of how he’s going to get there. One of my favourite parts has always been explaining how he’s lifting the show structure from Hill Street Blues, with plots resolved in one episode, plots resolved in a few episodes, and plots taking plots over the course of a season (the specific example he uses drives the first season, when the characters are looking for water, drilling the planet they find, and then defending the planet).

This clear-eyed sense of the story we are trying to tell right here, right now is a large part of why the show was instantly compelling. The miniseries alone has so many great moments, like Commander Adama tearfully embracing his son in a hug after finding out he survived the initial attack, or President Roslin abandoning half the fleet (including a little girl she met) to the Cylons, or Helo’s self-sacrifice to get Boomer off their home planet. You can easily see why its confidence was so attractive that so many scifi shows (and even non-genre shows) would embrace its aesthetic in an attempt to imitate the cool kid.

Unfortunately, the show also became famous for not holding up. I’ve never seen past the second season, because the latter half of that season is so lousy, and the finale feels like the writers throwing random bullshit at me like a parent jiggling keys for a toddler, desperately trying to keep me entertained. I used to think it’s because they’d lost the sense of story they were telling, but now I think it’s actually the exact opposite problem.

One way of interpreting ‘vision’ is asking: what problem am I trying to solve? You ask Gene Roddenberry, what problem is Star Trek intending to fix? And he’ll tell you, it’s creating a model for a utopian society in which diversity is celebrated, peace is rewarded, and humanity can pursue intellectual and spiritual enlightenment without fear of violence. You can argue this is a problem not worth solving, and you can argue this is a problem that cannot be solved, and you can argue that Roddenberry’s methods are not the way to solve it, but you can’t say he doesn’t know what star he’s following.

The problem with bringing this attitude to television is that once you’ve solved a problem… It’s solved. ‘Vision’ is something usually associated with film directors, which makes sense because even the most languid Zack Snyder joint is ultimately a short experience. A film director can ask a single question and answer it over the course of a few hours. A television show is long enough that eventually, you’re gonna stumble across the answer to whatever question you’ve asked.

Most shows get around this one of two ways: getting cancelled before we have a chance to get sick of them, or by constantly evolving. A show doesn’t necessarily have to completely reinvent itself for this to work; my favourite example is Always Sunny, which is always about the five worst people in Philadelphia getting into dumbass schemes, and it simply swaps out schemes every episode, as well as slowly collecting continuity and allowing its characters to morph into absurd, unique creatures.

(And even then, while I disagree, I notice fans have started falling off Always Sunny the last couple of seasons)

The Simpsons managed to hold out as long as it did by swapping out showrunners, each of whom respected the central point of the show and characters but also brought their own sensibilities and, more importantly, goals; bringing greater depth to side characters, or using animation to achieve incredibly ambitious jokes that couldn’t be done in live action. Even something like Mad Men, very much led by one guy all the way, could constantly evolve simply because the world kept changing around the characters, giving the writers new and fresh topics of satire and angles to see the characters through and situations to put them in.

The problem with Moore’s BSG is that, when it succeeded at its goal, it tried to just start over. Ironically, for something that was so groundbreaking, it ended up returning to the basis of TV as a medium: going right back to the status quo. Like, yeah, the miniseries and first season and a half wildly succeeded at creating a Grey vs Grey morality where no one person could be seen as entirely clean or seen as Good or Evil and humanity was exhausted and on the run. The problem is that, on an individual level, this position is untenable.

Eventually, people have done too much for you to ever forgive, or they’ve done so much that your loyalty to them is unbreakable, or they build families and manage to hold onto them, or they lose absolutely everything, or they just get fucking tired of whatever status quo they’re trapped in and will violently break out of it. Moore was so trapped in his vision of what his world was supposed to be that he couldn’t let it naturally evolve, and the show suffered for this critically in both a short-term and historical sense. 

By the way: I also recommend the series bible for Batman: The Animated Series, which is the equal of Moore’s BSG bible but pointed in a very different direction. Just like that book, it points to the future and rejects aspects of the past in a very compelling way.