I’m a relatively new convert to the new “reimagining” of Battlestar Galactica, a sci-fi series that recently ended its four-year stint on television (although, thankfully, continues to exist through DVD).

Although not a natural science fiction fanatic myself (I could never get into any of the Star Trek series, for example), I’ve enjoyed the complex, layered storytelling of the world of humans living under constant seige by their progeny, called Cylons, who have been able to create humanlike versions of themselves. The entire human population of about 50,000, spread across about 50 ships, continue to grapple with everyday human quandaries along with the constant pressure of evading Cylon attacks, buoyed by the hope of reaching the mythical planet of Earth, where the lost “thirteenth colony” of humanity is rumored to live.

How BSG’s humans cope with the existential threat posed by the Cylons, who seek to destroy them as inferior progenitors in the course of natural evolution, echoes in some ways the way the West does the same vis a vis the threat posed by fundamentalist Islam (although, naturally, the threat is not nearly as dire nor as foreign). The philosophical, social, political and ethical decisions that the humans’ struggles force them to make mirror those that have continued to shape our societies in the face of the forces that threaten to erode them.

Philosophical issues: The predominant philosophical theme that runs through the series is what constitutes a sentient being, and if Cylons qualify. What exactly makes us human? Is it our physical appearance and bodily makeup, our minds and our capacity to think, is it our feelings and capacity to love, or is it something less tangible, our values and character, or a soul or spirit? For the first two or three criteria, the humanoid Cylons clearly qualify (”Boomer” shows a capacity to love that often overrides her programmed directives), so is it that they wantonly kill people that created them and that are so similar? People have been warring and killing each other since the dawn of humanity, so disregard for fellow man is obviously not a disqualifier.

There are barely-detectable (without the aid of a laboratory) differences at the molecular level between humans and humanoid Cylons, but these might be meaningless if humans and Cylons were not locked into an existential struggle against each other. What compels Cylons to want to destroy humans? It’s not clear, but their different theology suggests they think wiping out the human race would complete an evolutionary step.

BSG also explores determinism vs free will (esp as it relates to those competing motives in Cylons like Boomer), and immortality (via commemoration, legacies and memories, most vividly struggled with by Starbuck).

Ethical issues: The series’s characters grapple with ethical dilemmas that constantly test their values and ideas of justice. Ethical concepts dealt with include:

• Utilitarianism - Measuring and executing to achieve the greatest good for the greatest number of humans present a neverending challenge, principally to the human leaders, President Laura Roslin, and Commander William Adama. Every decision, whether to rig votes for the vice presidency, or “jump” and leave raiders or ships behind, carries with it certain loss; the loss must be weighed against potential gain, or mitigation of an even greater potential loss.
• Justice - Human treatment of Cylon and human prisoners, what rights are extended to them, whether they are entitled to due process, and how punishment is meted, create ongoing dilemmas to those forced to make these decisions.
• Kantianism - The individual’s role in shaping his behavior vis a vis rational thought and experience is brilliantly explored through the conscious thoughts of Dr Gaius Baltar, who continually struggles to balance self-interest with moral accountability to his fellow humans.

Social issues: BSG offers a glimpse into Cylon social structures, largely collectivist, as a foil with which to contrast human society, which is a reflection of its “western”, individualist values. Appreciation for (and tolerance of) dissent, love and duty (”office romances”), nepotism and favoritism, and behavior incentivization are all explored throughout the series.

Political issues: The predominant political undercurrent is that between civilian and military government, embodied by Roslin and Adama in the series. Colonel Tigh declares martial law at one particularly chaotic point in the second season, and faces widespread noncompliance as civilians protest the dissolution of their elected government. The accommodation of a civilian government by a military engaged in constant warfare with an existential enemy is one that democratically-elected governments have had to repeatedly face in times of conflict.

…..

Let me say, in closing, that I’ve only watched a season and a half of this series that enjoyed huge plaudits through its end at the conclusion of four seasons, so I have another 45 episodes to be enthralled with, clutching my boyfriend on the couch, our eyes glassy with wonder and suspense.

With the series ending, we’ve lost yet another brilliant television show that made us think (while, sadly, so many others that don’t continue to live on). But, like at least one great “thinking person’s television” show, Six Feet Under, BSG ended when the majority of its viewers continued to cherish it.

As a child of the seventies and one that has never liked blowing hard-earned money and two hours of my life on an awful movie, I was always a big fan of Siskel & Ebert’s show, At the Movies. Siskel passed on in 1999 and has since been replaced with Richard Roeper, but the two Windy City newspaper critics introduced a format of back-and-forth dual reviews that were always greater than the sum of their individual reviews in the Chicago Tribune and Chicago Sun-Times.

What made it great? Well, Gene and Roger were great critics, first and foremost. But they also had great chemistry, probing each other on their thoughts on films they loved and loathed, and challenging each other in a dynamic conversation about each films merits and failures. Of course, plenty of times they agreed, giving movies two thumbs up or two thumbs down. But sometimes the most fascinating exchanges were those where they disagreed–the friendly spats were a delight to watch.

The digital era brought an algorithmic expansion of the wisdom-of-crowds (wisdom-of-the-pair?) concept, with Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic rendering a score based on the number of reviewers giving a movie a positive or negative review. But there’s still that missing dynamic exchange that we enjoyed on TV. The closest thing I’ve seen has been Bloggingheads.tv’s diavlog, but these tend to be generally discussion-oriented, as opposed to two bloggers reviewing the same movie like Siskel and Ebert did.

With Dyalogues we plan on changing that. Stay tuned.

Note: For almost a year now, the entire corpus of Siskel & Ebert, and Ebert & Roeper, reviews have been available online. Enjoy! (Here’s their review of my favorite movie; two thumbs up!)

My partner and I saw Wall-E on Sunday and both really liked it (although it’s hard not to like everything made by Pixar).

At its core, the film says something deep and moving about the power of love. I have to say, though, that the love it evoked was more akin to that between man and dog, than romantic love between humans.

Why?

• it’s clear that after 700 years of almost complete loneliness, Wall-E was starving for companionship more than anything else (I suppose the cockroach didn’t cut it)
• Wall-E became enamored of EVE almost instantaneously, simply because “she” displayed some sentience (again, the poor cockroach)
• except for playing around (with his toys and a fire extinguisher), Wall-E’s sole interest is in getting attention from EVE; he’s oblivious to just about everything else
• his only intimate contact with EVE was by holding her hand; a dog lapping up his master’s face is, frankly, more affectionate

I’m not disparaging the movie at all. I’m just wondering if adults are seeing what they want to see. I’d imagine children imagine an entirely different relationship between Wall-E and EVE, one that probably doesn’t involve the sort of activities that would lead to EVE’s pregnancy and nursing baby robots from her USB port.

I think what capture’s adult imaginations so strongly is Wall-E’s cheery innocence, his dedication to duty after hundreds of years of solitude, and his loyal sweetness towards a robot normally defined in terms of its “directive” rather than its essence. This is a robot that has taken his share of punches from everyone and still has the irrepressible curiosity and playfulness of a newborn puppy. And seeing a pet melt the heart of someone hardened by reality always pulls at our heartstrings, and, likewise, it’s seeing EVE’s transformation that surprises us and warms our heart; after all, Wall-E doesn’t change at all.

Here’s the trailer. If Pixar movies make your heart swell, you won’t be disappointed by Wall-E.

Debuting a documentary about Malawi, the home of her recently-adopted son, David, at the Tribeca Film Festival a couple of months ago, which she narrated and her former gardener directed, Madonna took issue with America’s aid efforts, saying, “I don’t know what our government does period, instead of getting us in more debt and blowing up countries.” When asked later if the US government should do more, she replied, “It’s our own job to change that and I think it’s a fool’s errand to rely on the government to change things.”

Whatever you think of Madonna’s sense of humor or her knowledge of the US’s activities, she might be somewhat on the mark when it comes to American aid. The fact is that the US government is a miser when it comes to charity, but individual American citizens more than make up for it with their own largesse.

Two interesting, and highly contrastive figures:

• Among the 22 OECD development assistance committee countries, the United States is second-to-last in terms of generosity (only Greece was more miserly). This measures governmental aid. The Scandinavian countries, led by Norway, were the most generous. The US government gave 0.16% of GDP.
• The United States is the most generous of all countries, as a percentage of GDP, when counting total aid (see infographic to the right, courtesy of Fast Company). The US gives 1.7% of its GDP (Britain, Madonna’s new home, gives 0.73%, less than half that)

The difference? Private giving. Americans rely less on the government to do the job, and rather donate to non-governmental agencies, private and public, to do the job. A third go to religious organizations, and three-quarters from individuals (only a paltry 4.3% from corporations), but it’s clear that the American people, as Madonna calls it, will be the ones that people in need will have to rely on when they seek help.

What is missing from these statistics is how much of giving is destined for overseas. This, brings up some interesting questions (all of which would make for terrific dyalogue topics):

• Should individuals help less-fortunate people overseas, or “take care of their own” first?
• Is aid to former colonies (typical among European former colonial powers) as altruistic as aid to countries without a historical connection to your own?
• Is there a reasonable charitable giving target, or is any number arbitrary?
• Do celebrities owe a responsibility to the poor?
• What is the ideal government:private aid ratio?

M. Night Shyamalan - you either love him or you hate him. I belong to the former category. Sure, we all loved The Sixth Sense. But true fans also enjoyed Unbreakable, The Village, and The Lady in the Water. I loved them all. (I passed on Signs - oh, how I loathe Mel Gibson).

I think the premises of his movies since Sixth haven’t been quite as surprising, but there is still sweet magical quality that he imbues to all of his movies that resonates with me, and probably with many of his fans that have stuck with the director even when the tomatoes went rotten. No one seems to make dark and eerie feel so compelling, either; he has a great sense for lighting, timing and score.

Harmony Korine (Kids, Gummo) has said we tend to remember characters in a movie long after we’ve forgotten the plot, which explains why his later films tend to be meandering and plotless, but provide deep studies into the main characters’ temperament. I would go a little further and say that great movies will leave a lasting impression of a feeling or sensation, either adrenaline-infused terror from a great horror flick (my boyfriend’s hands still get sweaty at the mere mention of 28 Days Later) or the warm, sunny optimism of a sanguine feel-good flick like As Good As It Gets, long after you’ve forgotten the nuts and bolts of the storyline.
Shyamalan’s new apocalyptic thriller, The Happening, opens at the end of this week (Friday the 13th). Here’s a trailer:

I’m embedding but not watching - I need for this to be the surprise that The Sixth Sense was when I watched it (I was living in Eastern Europe at the time, so I was thankfully sheltered from the buzz around it.) I also studiously avoided any trailers and writeups about his later films and thanked myself later.