Caprica

Anyone who knows me knows my love for Ronald D. Moore's reimagined Battlestar Galactica. I've yet to see a finer series. Nothing else has managed to capture the modern mentality towards differences in society whilst providing an illuminating allegory to the War on Terror. Then there's the last season, which, despite its bleak tone, carries a message of hope for humanity. And all of this without mentioning the core narrative of man on the run from a superior enemy that has forced the human race from its home after an attempted genocide on a massive scale.

The Cylons were an intriguing set of characters. They were human, but with a different psychology coming from their robotic roots and some unusual religious beliefs. They didn't believe in the polytheistic religion of the Twelve Colonies; instead, their beliefs lay in the worship of one true God.

Caprica tells of a time before the First Cylon War, when Cylons were invented. This is before even the initial 'they rebelled' bit of the opening titles of Galactica, when the Twelve Colonies weren't one supernation, but were fractured states. Daniel Graystone, computer genius and CEO of Graystone Industries, has a contract to fulfil, providing mechanised soldiers for a Caprican defence programme. His daughter is caught up in a terror attack (one she's linked to, in a way), and ends up dead. She's also a computer genius, and has secretly synthesised true artificial intelligence - or, as Cylons would probably have it, a soul in something artificial - which takes her form in a virtual world. We meet Joseph Adama, father of Admiral William Adama, who is a mob lawyer in Caprica City, and have a major side-plot involving gangsters and family homour in the vein of plenty of mob films.

The most intriguing character is Clarice Willow - played by Polly Walker, Atia of the Julii in Rome - who is Caprica's closest equivalent to Gaius Baltar. She's the leader of a cell of monotheistic terrorists - the Soldiers of the One - who provide the series with an interesting focal point. Working out their intentions is difficult, to a point. Are they evil or misguided in their pursuit of Apotheosis, or resurrection? What is obvious is that they're utterly ruthless. In a series of few action sequences, where the drama is largely personal, they give us a few moments of very strong violence. Seeing failed Soldiers of the One candidates lined up and shot is one of the series' most shocking moments.

Caprica has a major problem: it can't quite decide what it is. Too many episodes feel like they're a mismatch of ideas. At times the series seems to decide what path it will follow, and as a result there is an excellent episode or two. But these moments are few and far between. Part 1 has perhaps two episodes from nine which could be described as very good; part two has a similar ratio of very good episodes to those produced, one of which is the final episode. In between times, there are moments of excellence, but rarely more than one or two an episode.

That Caprica is a Battlestar Galactica prequel and is made by the same people is apparent throughout with things like camera angles, dropped hints of the future and references to Galactica ('The shape of things to come' from the final moments is one of the most obvious references, but there are plenty of others). Production values are high, and the acting standard is also good. There are also actors and actresses popping up in new roles, such as Luciana Carro (Kat, Starbuck's constant irritant, in Galactica), and Christian Tessier (Duck, another pilot).

But it serves as a constant reminder to what Caprica doesn't achieve. Battlestar Galactica is one of the essential TV shows to watch of this century, and one of the greatest of all time. Caprica is merely decent, convoluted in places, with some excellent moments.

To a Galactica fan, it will be essential viewing. It answers questions about the inception of the Cylons and their religious beliefs - and at times does it well - as well as providing an insight into the origins of everyone's favourite Admiral. The series finale will catch the eye for others, being what the series should have been throughout rather than for 41 minutes. But if you're not a Galactica fan the series may leave you feeling alienated with its glacial pace and convoluted storytelling.

In the Buff

Well, that took a while. It's been a couple of months since I started my watch through of the full run of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and last night I finally reached the conclusion of the eponymous Buffy's TV adventures.

First things first, I thoroughly enjoyed most of the series. It had charm and wit as well as a multi-faceted dramatic approach - it wasn't wholly a drama series surrounding the core characters and their dilemmas, neither was it entirely a series concerned with the big bang special effects. It found a balance after a season two and thrived on it.

Season three represents the zenith of the programme's run. That balance is perfected. It's not just monster of the week heroics like much of season one. Neither is it life angst (season six). Characters have already found their roles and they continue to develop in them. I think I've already mentioned that the characters are very human, multi-faceted and comprising of real depth. By and large even the villains are the same.

Unfortunately, Buffy doesn't sustain this level of brilliance. Season four's big bad seems out of keeping with the rest of the programme, even if the season finale does a cracking job of setting up coming seasons. Adam could have been skipped entirely, as could the Initiative, in favour of a more mystical feel to the season. Whedon seems to struggle with running two shows in tandem (season four of Buffy coinciding with season one of the as-yet unwatched Angel).

Season five is hit and miss - although that's mostly hit, to be fair. The decision to bring Dawn into the show had clearly been taken as far back as season three (in the finale, Buffy and Faith discuss her impending arrival whilst making a bed), but that doesn't stop it being a not-particularly-good idea. Glory is a pretty poor excuse for a big bad, despite the fact she's probably the second most powerful villain Buffy faces (the First being the exception). On the other hand, we see good character development and a stonking emotional finale.

For the most part season six focusses on its young characters' development in the world, supernatural occurrences taking a back seat. It also has yet another poor set of villains in the Trio. Until the last few episodes, there's never the sense of impending doom there was in the first trio of seasons and season five. There's a sense of incredulity while they appear on screen. That one of them goes on to become an ally of the Scoobies does nothing to aid their credibility as serious villains.

Again, though, the season finale bails the season out. That's something Buffy does better than other programmes: pulls the big guns out in the finale for a brilliant season conclusion. Season one had 'Prophecy Girl', which still goes down as one of my favourite episodes. Season two brought us the two-parter 'Becoming'; season three was 'Graduation'. After a pretty poor run up to the apocalyptic final battle, season four did something a bit different in 'Restless', but it worked and was one of the most intriguing episodes of the whole run. Season five's 'The Gift' was one of the most emotional of the series. And then season six came along with a hat-trick of episodes leading up to 'Grave'. Season six's finale did actually have a tear in my eye at the end, which means it ranks up with Battlestar Galactica's 'Daybreak'.

Season seven is almost a return to early seasons' form. Sometimes the plot seems outlandish, but it recovers some of the oomph of seasons gone. And there's also that knowledge on Whedon's part that this is the end - so he can do some things he wouldn't normally do in case the show got pulled. So there's the first lesbian sex scene on television about three episodes from the end, the graphic depiction of a suicide and some more gratuitous violence involving Nathan Fillion. It doesn't reach the level of seasons two and three, but at the end there's the sense that it lived up to expectations and was suitably apocalyptic for the end of a series that showed about ten apocalypses being averted.

There are more than a few choices the makers make that I'd quibble, the main one being why did Spike have to become a good guy? Angel had a reason, Spike didn't so much. Another would be what possessed Joss Whedon to make him think 'Once More With Feeling' was a good idea? Sometimes it moves away from its roots without thought as to what went before.

But on balance it's a tremendous watch which I enjoyed. Though you won't find me watching later seasons so much as seasons one to three. And fangs for the memories.

Buffy season 2: a retrospective

Thanks to a housemate, I've recently acquired the full seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I watched the first couple of seasons in the late 1990s on the BBC, and I always enjoyed the somewhat censored version that aired back then. So, more than 10 years later, I've finally got back into the series.

Season one is truncated and uneven. There's an element of inexperience about the whole thing. The casting's spot on, but at this point the characters are works in progress rather than the rounded beings they'll become. The series veers unevenly between teen angst drama and monster hunter action series. It isn't bad, far from it, but against another Joss Whedon truncated series (Firefly), it pales in comparison.

So we move on to the (not shortened) second season. The first season serves a purpose in establishing our setting and characters. The second season builds on it. Those characters grow into their roles. There's Buffy, the wise-cracking slayer with emotional issues; Xander, the sarcastic everyman; Willow, the obligatory cute-as-a-button nerd (good thing!); Giles, the librarian and watcher. The cast is pitch-perfect, with the characters balancing and offsetting each other beautifully.

Compared to season one the balance of the series is far more evident. It's grown into its position, managing to combine the teen angst with the action to a point where it feels like they're not juxtaposed against each other. It could have been narmy (a technical word - look it up on TV Tropes), but it isn't.

The writing is quirky. Again, it's all about balance, and this is something Joss Whedon and his team can manage constantly. They can tug heartstrings one moment and make you giggle the next. It's drama and comedy combined, and then there's the (noticeably late 1990s) action scenes. A writer could learn a lot from watching Buffy season two and seeing the (that word again) balance the writers manage to strike.

Plotlines wise, you see so many things relevant to teenagers and young adults interspersed with the undead bashing. Why does my boyfriend (not mine, obviously) act differently now I've slept with him? In most cases, the answer isn't that he's turned into a soulless demon, which is the answer in this instance, but you catch my drift. Let's add to that, it's just plain good telly - how often do you get to watch a teenage girl with superpowers kick someone's backside up one door and down the other? We see young characters take responsibility, get their hearts broken, learn to live with circumstances. For what is ultimately teen TV, it's remarkably true to life (unlike that more recent 'sensation', Glee). This, despite the presence of the walking bloodsucking undead.

And season three is even better (it has Eliza Dushku playing Faith - and the dark ones are always more fun to watch and, in my main hobby, write).