Jammersreviews

Note: This review contains significant spoilers.

-----
Battlestar Galactica: "Sine Qua Non"

The fleet faces turmoil and uncertainty when President Roslin goes 
missing and is presumed dead and Adama refuses to acknowledge the 
legitimacy of Vice President Zarek as her successor.

Air date: 5/30/2008 (USA)
Written by Michael Taylor
Directed by Rod Hardy

Rating out of 4: ***

Review by Jamahl Epsicokhan
-----

The reason "Battlestar's" fourth season has worked so well thus far 
is because there's a larger purpose driving it -- an unapologetic, 
fully committed serialized format that assumes you watch every week. 
In past seasons, the show occasionally tried to deliver somewhat more 
stand-alone stories (and one could argue that led to some of the 
series' weaker outings, like "Black Market," "Hero," "The Passage," 
or "A Day in the Life"), but with the series' end date etched in 
stone, all pretense for increased audience accessibility has been 
jettisoned, and the show has committed to telling the stories that 
advance its larger purpose.

Now, having said that, it's worth noting that although the larger 
overarching story is driving this series, there's still plenty of 
room for episodes that more prominently feature certain characters 
and themes over others. For example, "The Road Less Traveled" 
emphasized military protocol, "Faith" emphasized religion, "Guess 
What's Coming to Dinner?" emphasized the characters' roles in a 
cosmic mythology, and now "Sine Qua Non's" emphasis is government and 
leadership.

This episode takes the fallout from "Dinner" and turns the focus 
primarily into a story about the operations of the Colonial 
government in the absence of President Roslin, and how it functions 
alongside the military (which is to say, dysfunctionally). Completely 
absent are any scenes that feature Roslin or the other characters on 
board the Cylon basestar that jumped away; their fate is a mystery 
left for next week. I admire the strategy of this season, which is 
that being away from some characters' stories simply means spending 
more time on the equally compelling affairs of others -- in this 
case, for the entire episode. (There's been a sense of unrelenting 
momentum this season, where the story moves along and the writers ask 
us to fill in the blanks of what was off-screen and implied. I'm of 
the opinion that the approach has worked.)

Renegade Six is rushed to sickbay where she dies on the operating 
table -- an ominous sign for any hopes of the tenuous alliance that 
had existed. Meanwhile, there's chaos aboard Colonial One, where the 
Quorum tries to separate facts from rumors about Roslin's 
disappearance; the frenzy has real-world disaster recognizability as 
a situation where emotion awaits further news and in the meantime 
feeds upon itself.

Also made clear in the early scenes is the sense that business must 
and will go on, both in the government and on Galactica. Adama and 
Tigh start planning contingencies (with almost too much calm) for 
what to do if indeed all those Vipers are now gone. And if Roslin is 
missing and perhaps dead, the government must continue to function, 
and Vice President Tom Zarek intends to step up and do the job -- 
that is until it's made clear (and this happens very quickly) that 
Admiral Adama has absolutely no intention of recognizing a Zarek 
Administration.

Zarek is frankly pissed that he may have to step aside simply because 
Adama doesn't trust him. But he has no choice. Lee has an apt 
military phrase for the situation: "Facts on the ground." The 
civilian government cannot function without Adama's approval, and 
Adama does not approve of Tom Zarek. Period. It makes you wonder 
where this fleet would be if Roslin and Adama were not able to 
coexist as a (usually) unified front.

So Lee convinces Zarek to step aside while Lee chairs a search 
committee to replace him. I'm honestly not sure whether this is 
prudent or patently absurd. The president is gone, the government is 
about to grind to a halt, Adama is rejecting the legitimate 
administration -- and Lee turns to the sort of deliberate bureaucracy 
that typifies a real government, as opposed to the contrived one that 
actually exists. Hey, I don't have a better idea, and Lee's plan 
seems about as level-headed as any. But given how dire the situation 
is, it just seems so ... calm. Calm to the point of madness.

Lee recruits a reluctant Romo Lampkin (Mark Sheppard, reprising his 
popular character from last season) to aid in the search. Lampkin 
sees the case as a high-risk, low-reward endeavor that won't get him 
much of anything in return. What did he get in return for defending 
Baltar, you ask? He got a "room with a view"; his quarters feature a 
hilariously tiny 6-by-6-inch window, apparently much coveted. He also 
gets plenty of headaches from people who hate him for getting Baltar 
acquitted.

The question becomes, who exudes all the qualities of a real leader 
and will be acceptable to the Quorum and to Admiral Adama? Lee and 
Romo spend a good deal of time debating the merits of leadership 
(with Romo offering up little tidbits of wisdom like the fact that 
those who show no apparent ambition actually have more of it than 
anyone else; it's just hidden from view), while crossing names of a 
dry-erase board. The details of this process are enjoyable, but at 
the same time there's a certain telegraphed inevitability to it. When 
Romo starts writing down names that will work rather than crossing 
off those that won't, he only comes up with one name, and it's not a 
groundbreaking shock when the camera reveals that it's -- *gasp* -- 
Lee Adama! I will admit that it is, however, an interesting wrinkle 
to the larger plot. It's also proof that BSG is not afraid of moving 
the plot ahead at lightning speed; Lee is sworn in as president 
before the episode ends.

But I'm not quite sure what to make of the scene where Lampkin 
reveals this epiphany to Lee. He points a gun at Lee and seems 
prepared to pull the trigger, which is so downright unexpected and 
played for suspense value that I'm inclined to say it simply comes 
out of left field. Lee has some good speechmaking in this scene, but 
I couldn't help but be distracted by how forced it felt for Lampkin 
to suddenly become so unhinged. What causes this? We learn that his 
enemies killed his cat weeks ago, and apparently that's his final 
straw. But, wait -- we had seen the cat jumping around in earlier 
scenes. Oh, that was just subjective-POV, Romo-imagined narrative 
trickery. Personally, I don't think this story needed Romo's cat 
playing Bruce Willis in "The Sixth Sense."

It also feels forced because Romo has always been the coolest of all 
customers -- a dry and cynical con man who knows human nature better 
than anybody. Watching him melt down here doesn't play to the 
strengths of the character or the actor; it seems at odds with 
Lampkin's persona, and I didn't quite buy it. It's too much platitude 
and not enough truthful characterization.

Significantly more truthful characterization takes place in the 
Adama/Tigh stories aboard Galactica. There are some great scenes 
here. Take, for example, the one where Adama calls Sharon in to 
answer for killing Renegade Six. He wants an explanation. She 
supplies one. To call it insufficient is an understatement. Adama is 
pissed -- and I mean pissed -- over Sharon's reckless act. You can 
always count on an angry Adama being worth some meaty drama, and it 
doesn't disappoint here. Sharon has essentially destroyed her 
relationship with Adama -- and her standing on the ship -- because of 
fears inspired by her visions, and it lands her back in the brig.

Meanwhile, this episode finally turns back to the relationship 
between Tigh and Caprica Six. A lot has transpired off-screen 
since "Escape Velocity"; you can see in their body language that 
their relationship has greatly evolved. She calls him "Saul." Their 
relationship is obviously complicated, with a dose of both 
codependence and distrust, and Tigh still sees Ellen when he looks at 
her. I love how this scene invites us to fill in blanks and imagine 
how things between them have changed gradually over time; there's an 
economy to the narrative that makes it seem like so much more has 
happened than we've actually witnessed.

The real heart of the story, though, is Adama's. Roslin is missing, 
and Adama is determined to find her. When the president's Raptor is 
discovered along with a dead pilot, and Galactica investigates and 
subsequently finds a destroyed Cylon basestar, there's every reason 
to believe the president and Galactica's Viper detachment are dead. 
But Adama can't accept it. He goes into personal-feelings-indulged 
mode, very much like the search for Kara in first season's "You Can't 
Go Home Again." He begins to lose objectivity. He sends resources out 
on fruitless missions. He delays preparations for getting the fleet 
under way. At one point, even Lampkin makes a point about it: "I 
always imagined you a realist, admiral, not one to indulge a vain 
hope at the cost of lives. But then, everyone has his limits."

Then there's the revelation that Caprica Six is pregnant by Tigh's 
doing. I didn't see that one coming. Let's completely set aside for 
now the whole issue of this potentially being the first fully Cylon 
child; the Adama/Tigh scene where this is revealed is terrific. Once 
again, a pissed Adama is an endlessly watchable Adama, and the result 
is a dramatically charged stand-off that gets you pumped up for the 
intensity of the drama even while it makes you wince about seeing 
these two old friends cursing and finally coming to blows with each 
other. I especially recoiled when Adama brought Ellen's name into it; 
if only he knew what Tigh literally sees in Six. The brawl gives way 
to the perfect bit of levity after Adama's model ship is 
destroyed: "You know how many times I've had to repair this thing?"

Slowly but surely, this story becomes the tale of these two old guys 
and their situations involving women: Quite simply, what are they 
gonna do? For Adama, the situation grows in poignancy as we realize, 
if we hadn't always realized, that he loves Roslin. And amid his loss 
of objectivity over trying to deal with this fact, he realizes he 
must turn command of Galactica over to Tigh, with orders to continue 
the search for Earth. Adama intends to wait alone in a Raptor for 
Roslin to make an improbable rendezvous.

The Adama/Tigh friendship, with all its history, is so poignant that 
you dread the day when the other shoe drops and Adama finds out he's 
a Cylon. At this point, this question is more about Adama than about 
Tigh. It isn't even an issue in the story's mind that Tigh, a secret 
Cylon, is given command of the fleet. Tigh is simply Tigh, working 
through his many issues, and that's all there is to it. He intends to 
carry out Adama's orders.

"Why are you doing this?" Lee asks Adama. "Because I can't live 
without her," Adama responds. Boom -- the emotional truth of the 
episode right there. And Adama waits, by himself, in empty space, 
alone. Hope springs eternal. When it comes to Laura Roslin, Adama 
can't afford to be objective. Sine qua non: Without which there is 
nothing.

--
Footnote: The number 47 once again shows up in the dialog here, in 
reference to names being crossed off a list. The whole insertion-of-
47-into-scripts phenomenon, dating back to TNG, has persisted 
throughout BSG's run. Rumor has it Joe Menosky was the one 
responsible for encouraging this behavior. I felt compelled to ask 
Menosky about it, and he confirmed his complicity in this conspiracy, 
and pointed me to the pages below to demonstrate the uncanny 
significance of 47.

http://www.pomona.edu/Magazine/PCMsp05/FS47trek.shtml
http://www.pomona.edu/Pomoniana/47.shtml

-----
Copyright 2009, Jamahl Epsicokhan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this article is 
prohibited.

Jammer's Reviews - http://www.jammersreviews.com
Jamahl Epsicokhan - jammer@...