Pass the frakking tissues

A recent story on The Onion has the headline "Obama Depressed, Distant Since 'Battlestar Galactica' Series Finale" (which is pretty funny, especially if you were a fan of the show).

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After weeks of getting the condo ready for my fiancée to move in, moving her stuff from her apartment over the course of several days, and then spending most waking moments at home trying to arrange and unpack everything (still not anywhere close to finishing, as noted in the last post), I have slowly started getting back in to spending a bit of time on the computer. Logging in to Facebook for the first time in a while, I found in one of my friend's status updates—er, I should say, now with the "new" Facebook, something on her mind—revealed she'd been quoted on the SciFiWire site regarding the Battlestar Galactica finale.

That reminded me that with all the frantic efforts to get the new shared domicile in order I had not chimed in with my thoughts on the show.

Not that anyone gives a crap, especially nearly two weeks past the event now, but as I'd intended to do so anyway, here goes.

The final episode of the series made me cry.

Glancing briefly at some of the reactions on the aforementioned SciFiWire site, I get the impression that was not a common response. A lot of people just seemed pretty pissed off. We'll get back to that.

First, I should note that I am not the sort of person who cries easily. I'm not quite the stereotypical stoic male, but there's something of that emotional repression in me that even really moving moments in movies or TV shows generally only make me "mist up" a bit before I regain my composure. (I am not suggesting that is either good or bad; it is mentioned merely to establish a baseline for my typical behavior.)

Whether you saw it or not, here's the scene that did me in:

Admiral Lee Adama (Edward James Olmos) and President Laura Roslin (Mary McDonnell) develop a romance in the last season, after years of having a more adversarial relationship. However, she is dying of cancer; they know their time is limited. Being a taciturn military man, he never professes his love out loud, but it is revealed in other ways.

In the finale, her illness has progressed to the point she can barely see, so he takes her for what is essentially a drive to find a place where they'll live out the remainder of their days. (Yes, it's a science fiction show, so they're actually flying, but you get the idea.) And in the middle of him talking about finding a good spot to build a cabin, she silently passes away in the seat next to him. He glances over and sees her slumped, and immediately knows. He grabs her hand, his eyes welling up, and slips a ring off of his finger and places it on her finger; a gesture to declare his love in those last moments before her spirit left.

When I first watched it, I was only somewhat overtaken by emotion; I was able to keep the tears at bay, only getting a little misty. However, when the show was over and I tried to describe the scene to my fiancée I burst into uncontrollable sobs.

I did watch the finale in my fiancée's (now erstwhile) apartment on the last night before we moved her stuff into my condo, and it's only a few months until our wedding, so perhaps my emotional state was particularly susceptible to such influence. But here's the thing: Even as I type this now (well over a week later) I find myself getting a bit of a lump in my throat thinking about it. I may be more of a hopeless romantic than even I consciously realize, but I'm not so much of a softie that something would continue to affect me that far removed from the moment. (Psychoanalyze that as you will.)

That it has that effect I must interpret as the real power of the show: that I could care so much about the characters that seeing a fictionalized man lose the fictionalized woman he loved (even though we all knew it was coming) could leave me choked up—even though ultimately this wasn't even a major plotline for the series.

(It also indicated that Edward James Olmos can motherfucking act.)

For me, it was never about how well the finale wrapped up the plot or whether it had a really clever twist (unlike, for example, Lost, where that will be the only thing that matters to make or break the entire show); it was a matter of seeing the characters through to their ending.

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And I think that's about as much as my readers (who probably are not hardcore fans of the show) need to know about that.

But if you want to get into it, you see the "thoughts on this" link below.