Note: This review contains significant spoilers.
Battlestar Galactica: "Resistance"
In response to Tigh's declaration of martial law, civilian ships in the
fleet begin to openly defy Galactica. Tyrol is imprisoned for having
consorted with Cylon Sharon. On Caprica, Kara and Helo join a band of human
Air date: 8/5/2005 (USA)
Written by Toni Graphia
Directed by Allan Kroeker
Rating out of 4: ****
Review by Jamahl Epsicokhan
Making one of the regular cast members a Cylon was a brilliant idea on the
part of the writers, and even more brilliant was the idea that her Cylon
nature was repressed so far down in her subconscious that she didn't even
know it was there.
For the individual, this concept is terrifying. It prompts perhaps the most
difficult questions this series has asked as it pertains to human existence:
What's our responsibility for harmful things hard-wired into our nature? Can
we overcome them? We cannot change the circumstances into which we were
born; all we can do is take control of our actions. But what if we were like
Sharon Valerii, who wants to be a good person, but is taken hostage by an
alternate personality who inflicts harm on others? Who is the real Sharon,
and who is the impostor? It's a question we sometimes ask about those with
certain mental illnesses: Are they responsible for violence if they have no
ability to govern their action based on its possible harm to others?
Personally, the feeling I have for Sharon, more than any other feeling, is
pity. She's the most tragic figure on this series. Her character arc has
moved her from fellow military comrade and Tyrol's lover, to suspected Cylon
infiltrator, to reviled traitor and assassin, and now, finally, to a death
that many, it would seem, welcome. At every stage in this arc, Sharon has
been all but helpless -- a victim in a universe designed to use her for its
own purposes and then destroy her. Her only way out would've been suicide --
which she tried, and failed, to accomplish in "Kobol's Last Gleaming, Part
1." Baltar told her then that life could be a curse. There's absolutely no
doubt about that if you're Sharon Valerii.
What's so compelling about this character arc is how, in the powerful
"Resistance," we see the uncompromising ugliness in how her former friends
now regard her. With revulsion. With threats. With violence. With an utter
lack of any sympathy or understanding for what we know is a more complicated
situation than what the characters are permitted to see, either through
willful blindness and disgust, or through having less of an entrance into
Sharon's mind than we, as viewers, are permitted.
Of course they feel betrayed. Wouldn't you? If you were Tyrol, and found out
you had been in love with a machine, would you be able to now extend
forgiveness to that machine? Or would you assume the machine was simply
playing you for a fool? The troubling thing is that she was ... and yet she
wasn't. The tragic definition of Sharon is that she was played for a fool by
a part of herself. She's as much a victim of herself as everyone else was.
Tyrol has a right to be angry. Because he was having an affair with Sharon,
Tigh now suspects him of being a Cylon. In the opening scene, Tigh
interrogates Tyrol and isn't the least bit nice about it. In Tigh's mind,
Tyrol is guilty by association. One has to stop and ask oneself what law and
order have come to when someone can be guilty solely for a relationship and
not for any specific action or knowledge. Tigh openly drinks from a flask
during this interrogation, perhaps suggesting that alcohol is his right in a
room that has no rules.
Besides, Tigh has other problems. Ships in the fleet are beginning to
protest martial law by refusing to make supply runs to the Galactica. Facing
the prospect of civil unrest, he considers sitting down with the other
ships' captains and giving them reassurances for why he had to declare
martial law. But Ellen privately talks him into taking a more draconian
tack. So Tigh sends Raptors to board the ships and seize the supplies, which
results in rioting, and military officers losing control of the situation.
On one ship, four civilians are shot and killed in a melee, which Roslin
labels a "travesty." It's a travesty, all right, albeit a completely
Interesting here is how Ellen goads Tigh into heavy-handed actions that he
otherwise might not take. She manipulates him into being a stern hard-ass
when, really, he's wracked with uncertainty and doesn't want to be in
command at all. Yet Tigh willingly lets himself be manipulated. Their
marriage is one of bizarre codependence, where sexual fireworks arise from
angry alcoholic dysfunction and shouting matches. This cannot be healthy.
Tigh's drinking and questionable leadership lead other key members of the
crew to start plotting ways to undermine him. It's a covert mutiny; Lee
wants to break Roslin out of jail before things get any worse, and he has
the support of Dualla and, obviously, the entire flight crew. With some
quiet, careful maneuvering, they plan to get Roslin off the ship and hide
her in the fleet. Even Tom Zarek is recruited for this effort, since he's
likely to know enough nefarious people to get the job done. "So, the enemy
of my enemy is my friend," Roslin notes dryly.
What I love about this show is how you can't predict exactly what's going to
happen, or what the characters are capable of doing. There are nuances to be
found and choices, big and small, for the characters to make. Take, for
example, Lt. Gaeta. He doesn't agree with the prospect of mutiny or
undermining, and he notices Dualla's off-log transmissions. But watch
Gaeta's reaction when Tigh asks him if he's noticed anything unusual.
Similarly, listen to Billy when he decides not to get on the ship with the
president. What he says makes sense, but I wouldn't have expected it given
his typical steadfastness.
Even Adama finally waking up took me by surprise. Just when things start to
really look bad for Tigh (he knows he's made some bad calls), Adama walks in
and provides reassurance, vowing that they'll "pick up the pieces together."
The writers kept Adama out of action just long enough for his return to have
a perk-up effect.
Or take the episode's dramatic highlight, where Baltar has been assigned to
clear Tyrol with his Cylon test, and instead ends up interrogating Sharon.
He injects the chief with a deadly toxin, and threatens to let him die if
Sharon doesn't tell him how many Cylons are in the fleet. Sharon doesn't
know. But, you see, she *does* know; the information is just hidden from
her, retrievable only as a last resort. Faced with the prospect of her
former lover dying, she finally cracks and reveals that there are eight
Cylons in the fleet.
This scene is acted and directed with chilling urgency, and provides another
example of the dark and intense places Baltar can go when he's sufficiently
motivated. Interestingly, this also shows how using love/sex as a weapon can
be a two-way street. After season one showed how the Cylons could manipulate
humans -- how Six manipulated Baltar, and how Helo could be manipulated into
impregnating Sharon -- this scene turns the tables, with Baltar using
Sharon's love for Tyrol against her. It's cruel and heartless -- and
Things get even darker for Sharon when it's revealed she will subsequently
undergo mental and physical tests. "Like some kind of lab rat?" Tyrol asks.
Yes. Baltar has a unique perspective on all of this given his own
relationship with a Cylon. He tells the chief to be glad he experienced love
at all -- "even if it was with a machine." The notion of Sharon becoming a
lab rat flirts with the depths of human ugliness when you stop to consider
that this is a sentient being with real feelings and emotions, and at one
point was a friend to many people on this ship. This is great, awful stuff.
These are tough questions for impossible situations, and with scary answers.
Significantly less tough and less challenging is the adequate but far more
obvious action-and-machine-guns material on Caprica, where Starbuck and Helo
are shot at by humans who think they're Cylons. They eventually team up, and
we learn that these humans are a part of a group of resistance fighters
hiding on a base unknown to the Cylons. It's nice to finally see other
people on Caprica. The story plants the seeds for Starbuck's obvious new
Possibly the biggest unexpected choice in the episode is Cally's, which is
shocking in the same way that Sharon shooting Adama was shocking. Cally,
after going through hell on Kobol and now watching the chief go through hell
in being jailed, seems to have snapped. In a moment of venom and hate, she
walks up to Sharon (as she's being escorted through the corridor) and
assassinates her Jack Ruby style. Sharon's dying words are "I love you,
chief"; Tyrol's anger is stripped away by the truth that he also once loved
her. The moment reveals an honesty that cannot be denied.
Perhaps something to be pondered here is that guilt or innocence is a matter
of intent. The puzzling question is what Sharon's intentions really were.
Her intent might've been buried under what we only *perceived* as her real
personality. Perhaps the person was a veneer and the Cylon programming held
all the marching orders. And yet, when you look back at "Water," you see
that Sharon could resist that voice and act on her own. It's an unsolvable
puzzle, and the episode has no answers. The only hint comes in the form of a
strong image -- a drop of Sharon's blood hitting the floor, echoing a shot
from the beginning where a drop of Tyrol's blood did the same.
The Cylons bleed, just like us.
Copyright 2005, Jamahl Epsicokhan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this article is prohibited.
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Jamahl Epsicokhan - jammer@...