Galactica In Name Only?

After watching the pilot episode of the original Battlestar Galactica for the first time in a few years, it struck me how confused someone who only knows the 21st century version - frequently called BSG - might be. As many have noted, though numerous characters have the same (or, at least, very similar) names, they're very different between the two programs. Most people making that observation do so to disparage the more recent version as "Galactica in name only", that's not my intention here. 

Personally, I enjoy both versions but that's a separate discussion. My mission here is simply to offer the following cheat sheet to help novices distinguish the original's key characters from those of BSG.

Adama with Better Skin
Apollo with Fewer Daddy Issues
Starbuck with Less Balls
Less attractive Boomer
Less Weasely Baltar
Sober Tigh

Honorable mention goes to Cassiopeia who, between the pilot and the regular series, was switched from being a prostitute to a medic. Had she been included in the 21st century edition, doubtless they would have kept her as a prostitute. If I had to name a true missed opportunity on the part of the makers of BSG, not incorporating her would definitely be it.

What's In a Name, Doctor?

After watching last night's season finale of Doctor Who, coyly titled The Name of the Doctor, there can be no doubt that Steven Moffat is the most amazing writer working in television. In case that sounds like hyperbole, it seems appropriate to point out that I used to think he was the best writer in television, but the past couple of seasons on Doctor Who have forced me to adjust my view somewhat. 

What makes Steven Moffat so amazing, at least as far as his recent work for Doctor Who, is that he has so many great ideas. Unfortunately, he also has a great many awful ideas. Moreover, because he has no apparent ability or desire to discern between the great and terrible, both end up on screen.

Last night offered the same mix of really great moments and things that made me groan. Thankfully, the episode started off with one of the former, a love letter to the show's 50 year history, before veering into silliness involving a spatio-temporal psychic conference call. Perhaps no other element of Steven Moffat's tenure as the show's head writer embodies his Jekyll and Hyde nature as the character of River Song, and her return displayed both sides of the coin. Having a character whose meetings with the Doctor are out of order was a perfect idea for Doctor Who, and her appearance in The Name of the Doctor fits very well conceptually. However, the romantic angle with her and the Doctor has been so overplayed that most of their scenes come across like a demented take on the manic-pixie-dream-girl scenario and undercut what should be key dramatic moments.

Likewise, Moffat's other supporting characters have quickly worn out their welcome. When Madame Vastra and her partner Jennie were introduced, the characters felt novel, but their subsequent appearances have just been bland. On the plus side, though, they're not as annoying as Strax. A Sontaran medic who owes an immense debt to the Doctor was a great idea - for a single appearance. I was tired of him after last year's Christmas episode, and neither of the two subsequent experiences has endeared him to me any further. There was a time when recurring characters were something to look forward to, but we're a long way from Jack Harkness, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart or even Sabalom Glitz. 

Underlying all this, though, are a pair of abiding truths that I believe are applicable to all fans of Doctor Who - at least those of my generation. We're as hopeful as we are masochistic. As often as we're disappointed by the show, we keep watching in the hope that things will get better. The advantage of a program built on constant change is that that's never a false hope. For all my frustrations about last night's episode, it would be churlish of me to deny that I'm looking forward to the next one. Somehow, even after all the years where it seemed like Doctor Who would never return to television, the six months between now and the special episode to mark the show's 50th birthday seem exceptionally long.

The Wit & Widsom of Johnny Dollar

One of the great things about radio drama among all the forms of mass-media entertainment is the emphasis it gives to the human voice as the driver of the story. Though imaginative sound design often helps set the scene, it's rarely used to paper over narrative shortcomings the way visual effects are in TV and movies. This is especially true for detective dramas, which like their literary counterparts are often told in the first person. For many fans of radio drama, the long-running series Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar was a pinnacle of the genre.

With each case presented in flashback as the title character adds up the expenses incurred in the course of investigating that week's insurance matter, even the most minute items could be a big part of the story with the telling key to "seeing" how they all fit together. Very often the finest moment of any story would come at the end when Johnny finishes his report and offers his remarks on the case. In many ways, particularly during Bob Bailey's tenure in the lead role, it was a microcosm of what made the show so great.

Even in a genre whose success often hinged on the quality of the main character's narration, Bailey's delivery of the various writers' sardonic dialogue under Jack Johnstone's direction typically added up to something special. Two particular examples have stuck with me as I've been revisiting these programs as research for my documentary about the program (whateverbecameofjohnnydollar.blogspot.com), each by one of old-time radio's best writers. One is from The Cui Bono Matter (by Les Crutchfield) and the other from The Markham Matter (by E. Jack Neuman writing as John Dawson). Both are noteworthy not just for how they speak to the plot but also the way they display Johnny's character.

The Markham Matter: "In the end it was his attempt to run away, and it didn't work. It never works. Even if you get away, you find something new to run from."

The Cui Bono Matter: "When you gave me this assignment, Don, you asked a question, a phrase in Latin: cui bono? Who benefits? So, here is your answer: nobody."

If you've never heard these stories before, and even if you have, they're both well worth a listen.

To Err Is Human - Compassion Should Be Too

I can't say I'm surprised by the negative reactions from those who live near the site where Boston Marathon bomber Tamerlan Tsarnaev after the news broke that he'd been buried somewhat covertly at a small Islamic cemetery not too far from Richmond, Virginia. Nor could I say I'm not disappointed by the lack of understanding and compassion it displays. I'm thinking specifically of Imam Ammar Amonette of the Islamic Center of Virginia who's responsible for this comment.

“Now everybody who’s buried in that cemetery, their loved ones are going to have to go to that place.” 

And his point would be...well, what exactly? Is there some sort of morals clause to be satisfied for a proper burial? Does Amonette think it's his place to judge? 

Last I checked, Tsarnaev is dead, which makes any remaining judgment the province of (insert name of deity here). Here on Earth, we give our enemies a decent burial not because we're weak but because we're strong enough to show compassion. Failing that, we can tell ourselves we do it so we can gloat over their worm-ridden bodies. Either way, what's so damn hard to understand here?