What on Earth: Battlestar, Lost finales

• Jun 14, 2008 07:25 PM ET
• by Matt Roush

I've finally come back down to Earth- or more precisely, to the world of TV (after a few weeks abroad and way out of the loop)- and am thrilled to find the planet, for all of its problems, in better shape than the explorers of Battlestar Galactica did upon the conclusion of their long and arduous journey. A powerfully downbeat, and thus hardly out-of-character, wrap for the first half of the final season of one of TV's all-time-greatest science-fiction dramas.

Because of my long absence, I had the rare experience of devouring Lost's first-rate season finale (capping a wow of a comeback season) and the final awesome handful of Battlestar episodes within a 36-hour time span. My head is still reeling.

What strikes me about both of these shows is how, for all of the mind-blowing fantasy and murky geeky mythology and eternally unanswered (possibly unanswerable) questions, they are essentially grounded in such rich character and intense emotion. The passionate investment in these shows is unmatched by anything else I experience in my current TV diet.

Just to recap a few significant moments: Desmond's rapturous reunion with his "constant" Penny upon the Lost castaways' stage-managed rescue; Sawyer whispering into Kate's ear before he selflessly jumps off the copter; Sun watching helplessly as her beloved Jin is swallowed up by the freighter explosion, presumed (for now) dead; the look on spectral Claire's face as she dream-warns Kate not to take her son back to the island; Locke in the coffin (whoa); and that's just Lost. On BSG, every single moment involving President Roslyn and her devoted Admiral Adama was Emmy magic (not that the voters are likely to notice). The epiphanies each experienced after Laura vanished aboard the constantly leaping baseship, culminating in the destruction of the resurrection hub and the outing of the four secret Cylons (and the resulting sense of betrayal among the stunned humans), provided all kinds of stirring drama. I'll never forget that image of Bill Adama floating vigil in space, alone but for the book that binds him with Laura, as the rest of the fleet jumps away. "I can't live without her," he tells his son and interim president Apollo/Lee. When she returns to his arms, their simply stated reunion- "Love you." "About time."- couldn't have been more rewarding.

Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonnell really brought their A-game to these episodes. Adama's grief and self-disgust upon learning that his sidekick Tigh was a Cylon, leading (rather abruptly) with him cradled and weeping in his son's arms, was masterfully played. So was McDonnell's riveting ambivalence and cool inscrutability as she observes her own death during the baseship's many jolting jumps, witnesses Baltar's confession about his collusion with the Cylons (leading her to nearly let him die as he bleeds from his wounds, until her visions reconnect her with her humanity) and plays hardball with the newly vulnerable, but still implacable, Cylons. (Kudos as well to Lucy Lawless for her fierce work as the resurrected queen Cylon bitch Deanna.) Only with Adama does she let her guard and hair down. They're a marvel to watch.

So where are we left until 2009? With Lost's mystery island mysteriously vanished, moved into an alternate location or dimension by the all-knowing Ben, and the Oceanic Six on a mission to somehow return (with Locke's body in tow); and on Battlestar Galactica, the humans and Cylons united in a fragile alliance as they survey the blasted radioactive landscape of the mythical planet they thought would be their salvation.

What (and where) on Earth, indeed. I wish I had access to a wormhole, or one of Lost's time-space devices, so I could jump six or more months into the future to see what happens next on these marvelous shows. The suspense is killing me. Makes me glad to be back in front of the tube.