The Mirror Stage: A Tribute

Lacan made his name on what he called the mirror stage, which catalyzes the entry of infants into the symbolic world. Sometimes it takes a lot to impress me, but throw a shot of a mirror into your movie, and I'm temporarily subdued. Accordingly, I've been collecting mirror shots for some time now. Here are some of my favorites, many of which exhibit Lacanian undertones.

Mad Men Season 1: Betty's Season 1 story is merely a forerunner of her self-realization in Season 2. It's fitting that she's not looking in the mirror quite yet.

Mad Men, Season 1: Isn't this shot just perfect? The focus is clearly on Peggy, who's reacting to the mirrored woman crying. But we can still see Joan, mirrored herself, beckoning Peggy into the bathroom, because she can't help everyone. I don't think the episode is suggesting this, but the mirror stage is innately individual; you have to get through it on your own.

Battlestar Galactica, Season 1: Aside from the neat visual, this is straight out of Lacan, Sharon's mirror self trying desperately to force her into consciousness. Also the frame is pretty evenly divided: on the right, we have wavy hair complete with strays (hair is a particularly maternal symbol to Lacan), and on the left, ordered lines with a mirror and letters! Welcome to the Symbolic.

The Headless Woman: I've posted this elsewhere, because I love the multiple reflections of the same thing. But it's also appropriate in a Lacanian context. You'd think Veronica would start to figure things out...

Ivan's Childhood: I've used this before also, but here's a boy without a mother who spends a movie searching for her. Sort of. It's worth noting that the mirror stage is a one-way street. (I really don't want to spoil my favorites for anyone who hasn't seen them.)

The Mirror: Tarkovsky's movie about his mother. Fitting, eh? Sidenote: I love that this mirror isn't perfectly shimmering like most movie mirrors. It's hard to tell here, but it has dirt and spots all over it.

Viridiana: Viridiana lets her hair down, a sexually suggestive maternal symbol that beautifully sets the Oedipal film's first act in motion. I don't see this as a reference to the mirror stage so much as a simple demonstration of self-consciousness, somewhat ironically coming from a figure of chastity. (Who says nuns can't look hot?)

Vicky Cristina Barcelona: More sexual awakening going on. Poor, clueless Chris Messina.

Summer with Monika: Here's a mirror shot that mirrors an earlier mirror shot with a dramatic difference. The baby couldn't care less. Too young for this world.

Last Year at Marienbad: No clue what's going on here, but the geometric composition is superb.

In the Mood for Love: I even love mirror shots when the characters aren't looking in them, although it detracts from my Lacanian analysis.

Mulholland Dr.: This is the moment where Rita/Diane/Whatever realizes she doesn't know her name. Of course she's looking in the mirror at such a naked, vulnerable moment. The mirror stage is essentially traumatic. If this is all a dream, then I suppose Mulholland Dr. is a stunning depiction of The Real. But that's another post.

Picture of the Day

I forgot David Cross was in Waiting for Guffman! That Directors post had me itching to return to Christopher Guest, and I'm glad I did. One, it captured my feelings about the Oscars, waiting for something to end my misery, something that never came. And two, it provided the funny. "Kids don't like eating lunch at school, but if they've got a Remains of the Day lunchbox, they're a whole lot happier." That man is a genius.

Another forgotten Guffman player? Matt Keeslar, also known as The Middleman ("Middleman!"), plays the hot, young mechanic Guest's Corky St. Clair hits on and casts in his show. The close-up on Keeslar's character's dad eyeing Corky might be my favorite part of Guffman. I wish Keeslar were in more Guest movies, but now that he's not under contract to a television series (I told myself I wouldn't cry), maybe there's a chance.

The worlds of David Cross and Christopher Guest overlap again in Arrested Development, which features a lot of Guest players in multi-episode roles. Consider: Ed Begley, Jr., Michael Hitchcock, Jane Lynch, John Michael Higgins, and apparently David Cross. Anyone I missed?

Just for you, I also snapped this blink-and-you'll-miss-it shot of David Cross' Mr. Show partner Bob Odenkirk as an apparently rejected auditioner:


"We consider ourselves bi-coastal if you consider the Mississippi River one of the coasts."

P.S. I think I might be over Michael Cera, a prospect unthinkable just months ago. But yeah, what's going on with this Arrested Development movie? Clearly Cera's goal in life is not to satisfy me, but is it too much to ask for a straight answer? For someone ostensibly sick of Hollywood politics, Cera sure is playing a game with this, and my love is apparently not unconditional.

P.P.S. If the television gods won't deliver on Arrested Development, the least they could do is reteam David Cross with Bob Odenkirk, preferably in Son of Mr. Show.

Oscar Night: Waiting for Guff-Rourke

Mankind's most boring Oscars were announced tonight, and though there were no real surprises, nobody here got more than 14 predictions right. I'm a little embarrassed for us.

Slumdog Millionaire swept up 8 Oscars for its crew. To them I say: all I want to do is bang bang bang bang, and a click, and take your Oscars.

The ceremony itself was pretty fun. When it comes to Oscar hosts, I may be easy to please, because I am one of the few who thought Hugh Jackman's opening musical number was good. Not the greatest intro to the most important ceremony the world has ever known, but a well-done, decent opener. It doesn't live up to the aforepromised spectacle of Hugh Jackman hosting drunk and naked, but what can you do?

However, if nobody's going to stand up for the gayness, at the Oscars no less, allow me. First we get the expected jokes about straight guys' anxiety around homosexuality, which I don't really have a problem with, especially coming from James Franco and Seth Rogen and Hugh Jackman in a musical number. Then the romance clip package comes around, and it took a while to get to Milk, but they made room. They follow up with another musical number featuring three couples, none of which are same-sex. This isn't entirely the fault of the Oscar producers, but again, because gay people don't have the rich cultural history straight people do, they get the shaft in these tributes. In the year of Milk, they couldn't have thrown a Rent song in for good measure? At least Dustin Lance Black and Sean Penn threw us a bone.

As for presenters, all that jumps to mind are James Franco and Seth Rogen, complete with Pineapple Express video clip, Whoopi's Sister Act reference (Never Forget!), and the best comedy of the night--Steve Martin and Tina Fey presenting Tina Fey's Oscar Host Audition Piece. Oscar gods, make it happen.

This feels like a good time to reiterate how much I love ceremonies (like Ellen DeGeneres') where they honor the work by showing examples of the costumes and art design and score and screenplays. Everyone hated it then (the sound mixing choir, for example), but I think displaying the work we're here to honor is far more interesting than montages from the year's movies. Also, having five previous winners present the acting awards was a great touch, I thought, and it looks like the nominees appreciated it too. I missed the clips from nominated performances--though the screenplay clips had them stretching to find a section of In Bruges that wasn't laced with profanity--but I wouldn't have sacrificed the Hall of Famers for the clips. Maybe next year, they'll have both.

Most of the best moments were unscripted: The aforementioned Dustin Lance Black and Sean Penn politics, Kate Winslet asking her dad to whistle from wherever he was in the audience, Philippe Petit balancing an Oscar on his head, and everything about Sophia Loren.

The awards themselves were further evidence of the prime drawback of being the grand finale of awards season, malaise. The closest thing to an upset was Departures winning Best Foreign-Language Film, but even I predicted that, so it wasn't that crazy a possibility. When Foreign-Language Film is the most exciting award of the night, the ceremony's in trouble.

Semi-relatedly, I bet on Herzog, but no-go. Still, it was refreshing to hear his voice and see him speak tonight, and in a documentary package by the Maysles brothers, no less! I didn't realize they were still active filmmakers, but I belatedly add them to my overlooked directors list.

With it all behind me, though I was rooting for Mickey Rourke, Meryl Streep, and Anne Hathaway, I can say that I'm pretty pleased with the acting winners. Kate Winslet is certainly one of my favorite contemporary actresses (maybe my favorite), and Sean Penn's Milk is a fine performance.

But I have no desire to rewatch 8-time Oscar-winner Slumdog Millionaire ever again. Call it Crash syndrome, but I got more enjoyment out of Frost/Nixon, The Reader, Milk, Doubt, The Dark Knight, and Hamlet 2. But since nobody else in the world is going to care about this in a few years, I can stop talking about it now too.

The Indie Spirit awards took place last night and also let me down due to the sweep of an awards favorite, only this time it was The Wrestler. Don't get me wrong, I thought The Wrestler was incredibly well-acted and smartly written. I was just hoping the spotlight could be shared. That said, Mickey Rourke's speech should win a WGA award.

So if anyone has anything to add, feel free to comment. Are you as disappointed as I was that In Bruges lost Best Screenplay? Did you love the Best Song medley? Do you agree that Meryl Streep should be appointed Queen of the Universe?

See you next Oscar season, which began approximately two months ago!

2008 Brandon Movie Awards

On my charitable days, I think that the Oscars are about to continue the year's trend of honoring perfectly fine movies with perfectly fine performances and perfectly fine writing and perfectly fine cinematography and perfectly fine music. But in my heart, I loathe those movies for being passable, forgettable, easy. I have a more provocative, stimulating, exciting, and artful group of films to honor. I present to you, the 2008 Brandon Movie Awards.

As I've said repeatedly, the BMAs are undergoing change. Thanks a lot, Obama. They've already undergone all the philosophical changes, but the format is physically changing and incomplete (mostly because I haven't cared enough to hunker down and finish). So for now, I'm presenting them here, unveiling the new changes.

Most significantly, putting my money where my mouth is, I have done away with gender divisions in the acting races. Because of the overflow, I've expanded the acting races to six slots now, but all the rest are confined to 5. I will present the BMAs in the following order:

Best Cinematography
Best Screenplay - no sense in differentiating between original and adapted
Best Supporting Actor
Best Lead Actor
Best Director
Best Picture
Best Documentary
Best Foreign-Language Film

And since the BMAs are always in flux, I'm open to suggestions for other categories. I've noticed plenty of online movie awards include a category for Best Movie Moment (or Scene). I'm considering that. Any other ideas?

I still have yet to see several 2008 heavyweights, like Synecdoche, New York, Waltz with Bashir, Flight of the Red Balloon, and I've Loved You So Long. I really ought to correct this some day.

With that out of the way, allow me to present the new, improved BMAs for 2008!

Best Cinematography:

Javier Aguirresarobe - Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Eigil Bryld - In Bruges

Eric Gautier - A Christmas Tale

Jody Shapiro - My Winnipeg

Peter Zeitlinger - Encounters at the End of the World

The BMA goes to: Eric Gautier for A Christmas Tale! If I were judging based on single frames, My Winnipeg would take the cake, but cinematography is about camerawork, and Desplechin's movies are as dynamic and vibrant as can be. Gautier is constantly sweeping, swinging, and swirling, cutting between low-angles and high, never failing to find the most interesting way to catpure the subject. This wouldn't work for every film, but for a movie about life and all its passionate emotions, Gautier's energy is perfect.

Best Screenplay:

Woody Allen - Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Mike Leigh - Happy-Go-Lucky

Jenny Lumet - Rachel Getting Married

Guy Maddin & George Toles - My Winnipeg

Martin McDonagh - In Bruges

The BMA goes to: Martin McDonagh for In Bruges! "You fucking retract that bit about my cunt fucking kids!" I don't even know how to punctuate that brilliance.

Best Supporting Actor:

Mathieu Amalric - A Christmas Tale

Penelope Cruz - Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Rosemarie DeWitt - Rachel Getting Married

Heath Ledger - The Dark Knight

Eddie Marsan - Happy-Go-Lucky

Ann Savage - My Winnipeg

The BMA goes to: Rosemarie DeWitt for Rachel Getting Married! I've spoiled this in previous posts, but DeWitt gave my favorite film performance of the year. I find her endlessly watchable thanks to her ability to express so much simultaneously, even contradictory feelings. For instance, in the scene at home after leaving the salon, Rachel's face betrays both her forgiveness and hatred of Kym for her past transgressions, one of the many examples of how Rosemarie Dewitt remains charismatic even while revealing the ugliest shades of Rachel.

Best Lead Actor:

Colin Farrell - In Bruges

Anne Hathaway - Rachel Getting Married

Sally Hawkins - Happy-Go-Lucky

Maria Onetto - The Headless Woman

Mickey Rourke - The Wrestler

Michelle Williams - Wendy and Lucy

The BMA goes to: Sally Hawkins for Happy-Go-Lucky! Sally Hawkins is called upon to do a lot more than just be cheerful, and even in those scenes where she's unflaggingly optimistic, Hawkins finds a way to hint at her complexity. But it's in scenes with Eddie Marsan where she really shines, especially their climactic outburst.

Best Director:

Jonathan Demme - Rachel Getting Married

Arnaud Desplechin - A Christmas Tale

Guy Maddin - My Winnipeg

Lucrecia Martel - The Headless Woman

Martin McDonagh - In Bruges

The BMA goes to: Guy Maddin for My Winnipeg! I doubt this is a surprise, given my pick for movie of the year is such a personal piece from its auteur. Maddin is all over this film, from his semi-autobiographical tales to his expressionist and silent film homages.

Best Picture:

A Christmas Tale

The Headless Woman

In Bruges

My Winnipeg

Rachel Getting Married

The BMA goes to: My Winnipeg! But then, you already knew that. I've called it the most dazzlingly, audaciously innovative movie I saw from 2008. Nothing enchanted or inspired me more.

Best Documentary:

American Teen

Encounters at the End of the World

Man on Wire

My Winnipeg

Young at Heart

The BMA goes to: My Winnipeg! Perhaps the more revealing question is which documentary's my second favorite. That would be Encounters at the End of the World. I really ought to see Trouble the Water and The Order of Myths.

Best Foreign-Language Film:

A Christmas Tale

Four Nights with Anna

Gomorrah

The Headless Woman

Let the Right One In

The BMA goes to: The Headless Woman! I once said it's the formally best film of the year, and with more distance, I think that's accurate. The Headless Woman is a masterwork begging for and rewarding close analysis. I can't wait to catch up with Martel's other films.

To recap, My Winnipeg won Best Picture, Best Director (Guy Maddin), and Best Documentary. A Christmas Tale won Best Cinematography (Eric Gautier), Happy-Go-Lucky won Best Lead Actor (Sally Hawkins), The Headless Woman won Best Foreign-Language Film, In Bruges won Best Screenplay (Martin McDonagh), and Rachel Getting Married won Best Supporting Actor (Rosemarie DeWitt).

If you're interested in other online awards, might I suggest the Muriels? It seems their panel loved Rachel Getting Married even more than I did.

So how do we feel about the current incarnation of the BMAs, and the awards themselves this year? Any other categories you feel merit attention? Yes or no to the Best Scene idea?

Battlestar Galactica: "Deadlock"

Spoilers for tonight's episode of Battlestar Galactica after the jump.

Well they can't all be winners.

I didn't think "Deadlock" was a loser, exactly, just a little disappointing given how close we are to the end.

Jane Espenson's script did the best it could with such a piecemeal story, finding perfect moments for comedy, as in Hot Dog's sophisticated quip, "How many dead chicks are out there?"

But like I said, the story was a collection of parts as the pieces move around the board. Ellen's return, a nearly shot-for-shot reenactment of her arrival in "Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down" only with Boomer instead of Adama, reunited the Final Five and heralded a dangerous unity among the cylons. Dangerous for humanity, that is, since even Adama admits that Galactica needs the cylons for survival. (In an interesting character note, Bill notes that Laura and Lee, once the fleet idealists, are now the hardliners. This is true, of course, but it's nice that in his drunker, more self-aware moments, Bill can admit it.)

So the cylon quorum (caucus?) decide without agreeing that the Final Five must vote on whether to stay with the fleet or jump away to rebuild cylon-ity in light of the revelation of cylon procreation. Why has Tory been so quick to disown her humanity since "Crossroads"? What did they ever do to her? One year she's willing to steal an election for Roslin, and the next she's ready to throw her to the wolves.

But Tory's character change has at least been consistent. What are the writers doing to Chief Tyrol? He's a deck chief, he's fired, he's back, he's quitting. He apparently doesn't care what happens to humanity now, and despite his (programmed) spirituality, he has no intentions of following Anders' mystical, deathbed, angel-invoking wish for them to stay with the fleet. I enjoyed seeing Tory's conniving dismissal of Anders' final wish as much as I appreciated Tyrol's acknowledgement of it. At least he's still morally straight.

Also, I get why the writers decided Tyrol can tell Boomer apart from the other Eights, but I thought that scene where he bored into her head with his eyes and then confirmed that it was Boomer was hokey, annoying, and a little creepy. How hard would it have been for her to just introduce herself and then show Tyrol's reaction? We all got it last week when they cut from Boomer talking about love to Tyrol. They're intertwined. No need to beat us over the head.

But now that Anders is brain-dead (or is he? Thanks for the tease, writers!), the Fighting Tighs, considering the final vote, dominate the episode along with Caprica Six. Have I mentioned how happy I am that Kate Vernon's back? She and Michael Hogan are a powerful duo, although I loved Starbuck's reaction to their reunion ("It's like watching your parents making out"). I love how romantic entanglements inform the major decisions on this show. It's very Greek mythology. One of my favorite lines from Vernon was "I heard. Did you hear me?" showing that she wasn't just bringing up a subject more important to her, but that this Ellen is a step ahead.

Ellen is definitely the Ellen we knew from seasons past, but this time, she's more worldly, which has given her more intelligence, self-awareness, power. She's also been married to Saul for millennia, so she knows (as she always did--see "Fragged") exactly how to manipulate him. And she has a one-up on everyone else in the fleet, because not only does she have the facts of cylon history, but she has the memories of creating the cylon people. Saul may have participated in the process, and Six may understand how the Sexy Seven came to be, but Ellen was there. She lived it, she gave birth to a civilization. Not even Brother Cavil has the life experience of Ellen.

In the other corner we have Caprica Six, who continues to rock. The scene where she fended off attackers was almost as awesome as MIA's Grammy performance on her due date. Nice to see she doesn't fall for Ellen's feigned friendliness, but I didn't like how clueless she was in the final vote scene. And now that baby Liam's gone (great reactions from Helfer and Hogan, by the way), I wonder/hope we'll get to see Mommy in full vengeance mode. Caprica Six is no stranger to cylon-on-cylon violence. Much as I love this new, powerful version of Ellen Tigh, my loyalties lie with Tricia Helfer.

Why is Bill the ship's drunk nowadays? That's Saul Tigh's position, thank you very much. In light of Liam's premature death (which--I'm trying to phrase this in a way that's not incendiary--came off a little like a God-given abortion, one invoked by Ellen...thoughts?), I feared the bromance was going to take over the show. I still feel that, especially with the stunner of a revelation that Liam is short for William, which I seriously hadn't considered, but I trust the writers have more important things to deal with than Saul Tigh's unresolved lust for Adama. I mean, if they killed off Dee without letting her consummate her Oedipal issues, there's hope that Tigh can keep it in his pants around Bill until the series is over too.

The other major story followed Baltar, who I may love now more than ever, especially with Head Six back in the picture. I've never cared for his cult, or the women in it, no matter how they try to differentiate the sheep, but Baltar as a cult leader is brilliant. Now, can anyone explain how Adama became convinced that the only way to stave off (further) revolution was to arm the civilians?

One of my favorite aspects of Battlestar Galactica is how it establishes story events as allegories, parallels, and references to history, literature, mythology, and more. The food distribution worked not only as a way for Baltar to regain control of the flock, but as a reference to Jesus feeding the hungry, a test of Baltar's people turning to icons in his absence, and a contemporary telling of fighting hunger in Africa, where the guys with the biggest guns hold the resources while civilians starve. So while arming the populace made some kind of perverse sense to Adama, all I can think of is Mogadishu. But Baltar's involvement intrigues me, if only because I assumed his path was leading to Lee's newfangled Quorum (if not the presidency).

Setting the teases for Anders, Boomer in jail, and Baltar's flock aside, that final sequence was a perfect little touch. Of course Sharons and Sixes and Leobens deserve to be in the Hall with Dee and Kat and the rest. Beautiful.

"Deadlock" may not have been filled with landmark events and confessions, but the pieces are getting in position. What did you think?

Top 25 Working Directors

This is too easy. The "visionary" Zack Snyder is among EW's 25 best working directors, thanks to those icons of filmmaking Dawn of the Dead and 300. In fact, Snyder's a better director than Paul Thomas Anderson. "The movies he makes are just friggin' cool." I couldn't have said it better myself.

I'll save you the trouble and give you their list here:

25. Jon Favreau - Elf, Iron Man
24. Pedro Almodovar - All About My Mother, Talk to Her, Bad Education, Volver
23. Paul Greengrass - The Bourne Supremacy, United 93
22. Paul Thomas Anderson - Boogie Nights, There Will Be Blood
21. Ang Lee - The Ice Storm, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Brokeback Mountain
20. Ron Howard - Apollo 13, A Beautiful Mind, Frost/Nixon
19. Clint Eastwood - stuff they refuse to list from the past decade, i.e. they exclude Unforgiven, his only great film
18. Danny Boyle - Trainspotting, 28 Days Later..., Slumdog Millionaire
17. Darren Aronofsky - Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain, The Wrestler
16. Zack Snyder - Dawn of the Dead, 300
15. Sam Raimi - Evil Dead II, Spiderman 2
14. Judd Apatow - The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Knocked Up
13. Tim Burton - Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, Sweeney Todd
12. David Fincher - Seven, Zodiac
11. Guillermo del Toro - Hellboy, Pan's Labyrinth
10. Joel & Ethan Coen - The Big Lebowski, No Country for Old Men
9. James Cameron - Aliens, Terminator 2, Titanic
8. Michael Mann - Heat, The Insider, Collateral
7. Quentin Tarantino - Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill
6. Ridley Scott - Alien, Blade Runner, Gladiator
5. Steven Soderbergh - Out of Sight, Traffic
4. Christopher Nolan - Memento, The Dark Knight
3. Martin Scorsese - Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas, The Departed
2. Peter Jackson - The Lord of the Rings, King Kong
1. Steven Spielberg - ET, Schindler's List

Where to begin?

First, how necessary was another ethnocentric list of mainstream talent? Okay, I know the demographic for EW isn't exactly the cultural elite, but this feature was tossed off on their website. It's not like they risk shrinking magazine sales if they publish a feature full of foreign and arthouse names.

Zack Snyder has no business being anywhere near a list of best directors. And what's with the action bent? Does anyone at that magazine actually think Christopher Nolan is a better director than the Coen Brothers? Then again, these are the people who just came out with a list of 1000 modern classics, apparently missing the point.

It's not all bad though. Spielberg is overvalued among movie dilettantes and undervalued among the cinephile community. I'm happy to see him at the top (though I disagree) as a reminder of his longevity. Duel was almost forty years ago!

Steven Soderbergh is the surprise of the top 5, coming in with the assumption that EW would stick to mainstream choices. I'm also happy they didn't pick the Ocean's films as evidence of his greatness, although Bubble would have been riskier (and justified), not to mention Schizopolis or Che.

Obviously, several worthy directors made the cut, including the Coen Brothers, David Fincher, and Paul Thomas Anderson. And I guess it was risky of EW to throw in a couple foreign names, though one of them works regularly on English-language films.

Then there's the other half.

I may be alone on this, but James Cameron, Ridley Scott and Brian de Palma made isolated hits surrounded by mediocrity. De Palma didn't make the cut (though Blow Out, and hopefully other works of his I haven't seen, puts many of the selected films to shame), but Scott did, thanks to Gladiator. Scott really stretches the idea of great active directors, because his last few films are Body of Lies, American Gangster, A Good Year, Kingdom of Heaven, and Matchstick Men. Yep, paragons of innovation. James Cameron also made the cut, but even Aliens isn't enough to keep him afloat for me.

I love Ron Howard, but ranking directors is cold and cruel, and Apollo 13 is not enough to make the grade. Jon Favreau and Paul Greengrass should also be happy they've directed action blockbusters, and thus rank highly in the minds of EW writers. Much as it pains me, has Judd Apatow especially set himself apart as a director?

I'm too frustrated to get into the rankings themselves. But Zack Snyder beating Paul Thomas Anderson, not to mention Ang Lee, Clint Eastwood, and Darren Aronofsky, says it all.

Now, the fun part. I can't possibly compile a worse list of directors, can I? Before I begin, it's unfortunate that I only recently entered the world of foreign film, especially contemporary foreign film. I've only seen one (great) film each by Lucrecia Martel, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Eric Rohmer, and Jerzy Skolimowski, among others. I've never seen a movie by Claire Denis, Hou Hsiao-hsien, Carlos Reygadas, Zhang Ke Jia, Johnnie To, or Abbas Kiarostami. I've only seen one film by Guy Maddin, my favorite from this year, but I can't include him with just one example of his work.

Accounting for my limited viewing and the few appropriate choices on the EW list, I've come up with 15 directors EW unfairly overlooked. They may not be as visionary as Zack Snyder, but they're all right.

First, I must mention Francis Ford Coppola, Jean-Luc Godard, Alain Resnais, Agnes Varda, Sidney Lumet, Alejandro Jodorowsky, and Whit Stillman. These are excellent directors (The Godfather Part II, Contempt, Last Year at Marienbad, Cleo from 5 to 7, Network, El Topo, and Metropolitan, to name a few masterpieces) who are still working, but I haven't seen a great film by any of these guys in over a decade. I liked Before the Devil Knows You're Dead but hated Find Me Guilty, and I haven't seen Youth Without Youth or Private Fears in Public Places yet. Still, I have a hard time thinking Jon Favreau and Ron Howard outdirect these titans.


15. Noah Baumbach - Kicking and Screaming, The Squid and the Whale, Margot at the Wedding

14. Arnaud Desplechin - Kings and Queen, A Christmas Tale

13. Richard Linklater - Dazed and Confused, Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, A Scanner Darkly

12. Todd Haynes - Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, Safe, Velvet Goldmine, Far from Heaven, I'm Not There

11. David Gordon Green - George Washington, All the Real Girls, Snow Angels, Pineapple Express.

10. Mike Leigh - Naked, Happy-Go-Lucky, presumably Secrets and Lies

9. Alfonso Cuaron - Y tu mama tambien, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Children of Men

8. Bela Tarr - Damnation, Werckmeister Harmonies

7. Christopher Guest - Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, A Mighty Wind, For Your Consideration

6. Sofia Coppola - The Virgin Suicides, Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette

5. Wes Anderson - Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Darjeeling Limited

4. Terrence Malick - Badlands, Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line, The New World

3. Woody Allen - Annie Hall, Zelig, Hannah and Her Sisters, Crimes and Misdemeanors, Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona

2. David Lynch - Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Dr., Inland Empire

1. Werner Herzog - Aguirre, the Wrath of God, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, Stroszek, The White Diamond, Encounters at the End of the World

I'm not married to the order, but it generally reflects my taste. It's become apparent that I am lacking in the female director department. Sofia Coppola, Lucrecia Martel, Amy Heckerling, Agnes Varda, Miranda July, Marjane Satrapi--those are the only women I can think of that have delivered outstanding directorial work I've seen. I've seen decent movies from Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen), Nora Ephron (You've Got Mail), and Julie Taymor (Across the Universe--can't wait to see Titus, though). I haven't seen any Mira Nair (I don't think) and don't particularly want to, but Jane Campion is calling, and I can't wait. Who else should I check out? Leni Riefenstahl?

What do you think of the EW list? Are you just happy they couldn't find room for M. Night Shyamalan and Paul Haggis? What about my list? I know Herzog's no Clint Eastwood, but not everyone can direct a Gran Torino.

I'd Like to Thank the Academy: Acting Awards

The Oscars are coming! This Sunday, I fully expect four decent acting performances to be honored by the great and powerful Academy. But before we celebrate the Oscar-nominated performances, let's delve into some problems with Oscar acting.

First, is it so hard to figure out if a performance is lead or supporting? There are cases where a arguments can be made either way, but Timothy Hutton is obviously the lead actor in Ordinary People, and 2005 Supporting Actress winner Rachel Weisz was as vital to The Constant Gardener as Lead Actress winner Reese Witherspoon was to Walk the Line. Of course, I'm not convinced Weisz or Witherspoon had lead roles in their respective films--Walk the Line wasn't about Johnny Cash and June Carter's relationship so much as it was about Cash, and Carter figures prominently into his story--but these equivalent roles and their classifications exhibit a clear discrepancy.

The difficulty apparently lies in determining whose story everyone else contributes to. Is The Great Gatsby about Jay Gatsby (ne James Gatz)? Of course not. It's Nick Carraway's story; Gatsby is simply the catalyst for his arc. Jack Burden, not Willie Stark, is the lead role in All the King's Men. Even though they are passive for most of their stories, Carraway and Burden undergo the major arcs, they soak up most of the screen (page?) time, and Stark, Gatsby, and the rest of the casts only appear in connection to the main characters. These examples demonstrate how a mostly passive character can still inhabit the lead role while a dynamic force like Willie Stark, whose charisma makes him a natural leader, remains a supporting role in this particular story.

This year, we have the Kate Winslet question. In Revolutionary Road, she and Leonardo DiCaprio play the lead roles in a story about their relationship. In The Reader, it's a little more murky. The story is about a man named Michael Berg who meets Winslet's character Hannah Schmidt. The focus is clearly on Michael and how he is affected by their relationship, enchanted, provoked, and obsessed with Hannah, who is merely a supporting player in the story of a boy's awakening. But since the role of Michael is divided between David Kross and Ralph Fiennes, it seems no actor is a lead, and all three should be supporting. This works out nicely for Winslet's awards chances, but the Academy blew off her wishes and nominated her in the lead category. Winslet's prime competition is Meryl Streep in Doubt. You could say Doubt is about Sister Aloysius, certainly more than it's about anyone else, but I think it's more accurate to say Doubt has no lead character or characters. Doubt is about an event, and more broadly a church and its issues, and all three characters revolve around it.

So I recognize the ambiguity in certain roles, but the Academy can at least make an effort to correct such clear misclassifications as Hutton in Ordinary People. Maybe they can fix this in the future by dividing performances into lead or supporting before voting. If they don't want to do the work, let the actors and their PR people decide which category they'll compete in. But I think they ought to have some kind of panel that decides, so a more objective third party is responsible. Relatedly, I think the Academy should lift the ban on competing against yourself in acting races. Roger Deakins and other crew members compete against themselves. Soderbergh did it in 2000 and won for directing Traffic. I don't see why actors are so special.

There's also a vast chasm between supporting roles and cameos. Rosemarie DeWitt is clearly not the lead of Rachel Getting Married, but her Rachel is nearly as important as Anne Hathaway's Kym. She's the title character, for crying out loud! Compare that to the cameo by Viola Davis in Doubt. Davis shows up for two consecutive scenes, struts and frets magnificently, and is heard no more. Both DeWitt and Davis deliver memorable, complicated work, but DeWitt gets the running time of the film to realize her character. How can this possibly suffer in comparison to Davis' limited turn? We barely scratch the surface of this woman, and although I don't doubt Davis could have carried the movie herself, do Academy voters really think her two scenes portray one of the best supporting female performances of the year?

I hate to suggest quality can be quantifiably judged. It can't, and I just used that example as a general model. But as long as we're delineating between lead and supporting roles, we ought to at least observe the difference between fully realized supporting performances and expanded cameos. I'm not suggesting the Oscars create a new category for actors, and I'm not saying cameo roles like Davis' shouldn't be eligible in the supporting races. I'm just saying when cameos make the shortlist, it's a slight to all the mulitidmensional supporting roles that didn't make the cut.

Finally, it's time to close the gender divide in acting races. After all, there's no category for Best Screenwriteress or Best Directrix. Dividing acting races by gender has sparked implications that beauty plays into the selection, and one theory for the selection of winners, based on the poor showings by actresses over 40, is that the hottest actress wins. Hence, Marion Cotillard, Reese Witherspoon, Charlize Theron, Halle Berry, etc. I'm not suggesting consolidating categories will change Oscar geezers' love of hot women, just that there's no reason to divide the categories.

The primary response to such suggestions has been that, if women competed with men in acting races, women would never win anything. After all, how many women have won in directing or screenwriting? True, in behind-the-scenes work, women are tragically underrepresented, and this translates to a low ratio of female to male Oscar nominees and winners. But acting is different, and despite the publicized lack of great roles for women (which I'd dispute), awards bodies are as keen to honor women as men.

Meryl Streep is the most nominated performer for the Oscars and the Golden Globes, and she's tied with Jack Nicholson for the most Golden Globe wins. She also happens to be attached to a vagina. Further, a regular phenomenon recurred this year: actresses vastly outshined actors. Critics have noted the crowded Lead Actress category, which couldn't find room for Sally Hawkins, Kristin Scott Thomas, Michelle Williams, or Kate Winslet's other performance, not to mention greats that didn't even register like Maria Onetto. And Supporting Actress is so strong anyone could win (especially now that Nate Silver predicts Taraji P. Henson). More importantly, awards aside, movies about women triumphed this year--Happy-Go-Lucky, Wendy and Lucy, The Headless Woman, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Rachel Getting Married--despite the current argument that chick flicks are killing good roles for women.

(As an experiment, I selected my favorite lead and supporting performances for the past decade to sample, and I came out even on the gender ratio. Most years even divided my fictional awards between a man and a woman. I recognize that my opinion has no bearing on the Oscars, but as a representative of one person's opinion of the best performances, closing the gender gap did not lead to a male majority.)

Getting away from structural problems with the Oscars, I have a few divergent opinions on what qualifies as excellent acting. First, mimicry is not enough for me, though apparently a precise accent works for Academy voters. Just as I tend to favor original screenplays over adapted works (which isn't a hard-and-fast rule), I prefer performances created, rather than imitated, by actors. Obviously historical figures can provide excellent work, like Richard Nixon in Secret Honor (and Frost/Nixon, for that matter) or Queen Elizabeth II in The Queen. But Philip Seymour Hoffman's Capote impression isn't enough to outshine the subtextual nuance of Heath Ledger's Ennis Del Mar. And Sean Penn's Harvey Milk doesn't touch Mickey Rourke's Randy Robinson.

Relatedly, according to the Academy, the best performances tend to err on the side of showiness. This is true for all categories: showy direction and cinematography certainly stand out more than appropriately subtle camerawork, just as writerly monologues tend to get screenplays noticed a lot more than bumbling, realistic conversation. Daniel Day-Lewis delivered my favorite performance of 2007 in There Will Be Blood, and he was more than adequately recognized by awards panels. But for my money, he was almost matched by Casey Affleck's work in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, which was quiet and internalized, and thus went mostly overlooked. This year, the Oscars ignored subtle work by Michelle Williams in Wendy and Lucy and Alejandro Polanco in Chop Shop.

Finally, before I get too effusive about my favorite performances--and trust me, that post is coming--an acting award is given to the figurehead and prime creator of the performance. But performances are significantly shaped by the screenwriter and the director, of course, and most importantly, the editor. A performance is merely a collection of takes, and the great ones owe as much thanks to their editors as to their performers.

All that in mind, the Oscars are coming! And I have a couple more pre-Oscar posts in the works. What do you think about the acting awards?

Battlestar Galactica: "No Exit"

Spoilers for (the most answer-heavy episode yet) of Battlestar Galactica to follow. (UPDATED: I filled in a major gap that I forgot regarding the 13th colony.)

I would have written last night, but I was so overwhelmed with information, I could hardly tell what happened. Essentially, we the audience were given a kind of omniscience this episode, as we followed both Sam Anders--complete with epilleptic flashbacks and nonsensical retelling--and Ellen Tigh--as candid as she could be about the history of the cylons--with a minority of scenes dedicated to continuing the present-day storylines. Let's tackle those first, since only two subplots made ground.

Laura Roslin has decided to remain president in name only. Instead, she'll serve as something like a transitional advisor for Lee Adama's government. For all the rage politics has brought out of people on this show--including mass murder, ahem, Tom Zarek--Roslin's desperate attempt to honor the memories of her colleagues on the Quorum was a beautiful look at the weight of the crown. It reminded me of the inexorably shrinking count on the white board in "33." More memories were evoked by the discussion that followed. Captain Apollo serving as Roslin's military advisor, Apollo standing with her during the military coup, and at Baltar's trial, the heart-breaking "Captain Apollo, please don't do this." It's nice to see these two acting like family again.

Meanwhile, Admiral Adama reinstates Chief Tyrol, because, hey, he's already got a cylon XO. Luckily Tyrol knows just what he needs to fix Galactica: apply organic resin to her insides. The cylonification of Galactica has begun.

It's a sign of the times not only that Adama and Roslin (and Starbuck, for that matter) are so comfortable working with the skinjobs they'd have summarily airlocked just two years ago, but also that they're perfectly content to hear all of Anders' revelations second-hand. For them, it's time to move on.

For me, not so much.

Now's a good time to point out that the episode began with a spiffy new precap, and that's when I knew they weren't kidding in the promos about how "all will be revealed." The lengthy poisioning scene had me worried Ellen would seek vengeance, but no, she is a loving creator. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Based on new information from Ellen, Cavil, and Anders, here is what we now know of the history of the Galactica universe:

Life here started out there, on Kobol, to be precise. Humans lived with gods, the Lords of Kobol. But one jealous lord turned on the others, and the ensuing war prompted the humans to flee. I think the obvious assumption is that the Lords of Kobol are cylons who resurrect, but I suppose we should wait for confirmation.

The Kobol cylons fled to Earth. On the way, they stopped at the algae planet and prayed for guidance. They built the Temple of Hopes, and the one, true cylon god showed them the way to Earth.

The Kobol humans settled on the 12 colonies of Caprica, Geminon, etc.

On Earth, the cylons learned (for lack of a better term) natural procreation, and biologically reproduced. At some point, five of the natural-born cylons--Ellen, Saul, Galen, Sam, and Tory--worked in a research facility, and together, they invented a mechanism for resurrection known as organic memory transfer. They were not the first to do so, for resurrection was in use on Kobol among the cylons there. Organic memory transfer fell out of use on Earth because they learned immortality via paternity rather than resurrection.

On Earth, the 13th tribe (humanoid cylons) invented centurion-like cylons (if not centurions themselves) who eventually rebelled. Earth played home to a nuclear holocaust, 3000 years before "present-day Battlestar," although the impossibility of a "present" in space is not lost on me. Before the attack, the Final Five were warned by visions that nobody else could see. Sam saw a woman, Tory saw a man, and Tyrol thought he had a chip in his head.

The Fivers downloaded onto a ship in orbit, becoming the final five humanoid cylons in the universe (again, the universe has no beginning or end, so finality is inaccurate, but you get the idea). They immediately set out to the 12 Colonies to tell them to treat their artificial intelligence well, lest they rebel, backtracking the 13th tribe's route and stopping by the algae planet. (Were the cylon centurions invented on Kobol, and thus, both sets of post-Kobol colonies had basic cylon technology? Or did the two groups of colonies independently develop cylons?)

So the 12 Colonies used centurions as slaves, and one day, the centurions rebelled, causing the First Cylon War. Then the Final Five showed up and gave the centurions an ultimatum: they'll help the centurions create resurrection and humanoid cylons if they end the war. Hence the shaky truce that lasted 40 years. After completing the mechanism for downloading consciousness, the Final Five created John Cavil, based on Ellen's father, and he helped them create the other 7 humanoid cylon models. Having seen the horrors caused by the use of intelligent machines as a labor force, the Final Five knew the dangers involved, but were convinced that the one, true god (invented or discovered by the centurions) who valued love and compassion would make things different this time.

But by the time the 7 line of Daniels came about, clearly Ellen's favorite, Cavil grew jealous and had the line poisoned, rejecting the centurion god's values of mercy and forgiveness. He then suffocated the Final Five, and when they downloaded, he denied them their memories. Instead, he implanted false memories, preparing them to live with humans so they'd ultimately come around to his way of thinking, that humans must be destroyed for their enslavement of the centurions.

He bided his time, gradually releasing the Final Fivers into the world. First Saul, then Ellen, then the rest, and suddenly, the cylons nuked the 12 Colonies. But each of the Final Five survived. From then until the present, Cavil has demonstrated his sadism, toying with each of the Five (with the possible exception of Tory). His goal remained the same, but only Ellen has downloaded since, and she remains convinced of man's goodness. Her conviction stems from her belief in the one, true cylon god, whom Cavil has turned his back on. Now that the resurrection hub has been destroyed, Cavil seeks resurrection technology again, but Ellen can't or won't help him. Instead, with the aid of a Sharon (Is that really the original Boomer?) whom Ellen convinces of the merits of humanity (free will, compassion, creativity, love), she escapes to Galactica.

Which brings us up to speed.

Now, do we think centurions were developed independently by the post-Kobol colonies, or were they in use on Kobol, and accompanied the diaspora? It seems logical that man on Kobol invented centurions, and thus both sects of humans (the 12 Colonies and the 13th Tribe) had artificial intelligence from the outset, but I'm not sure there's any evidence for that.

How do you think skinjobs developed in the first place (presumably on Kobol)? I'm guessing humans seeking immortality developed a way to download their consciousnesses into machine bodies. Thus, their first lifetime was spent in a human body, but every one thereafter was in a cylon body.

I make no illusions about my incomplete understanding. "No Exit" is mostly exposition, and we're fortunate to get so many answers with five episodes left so that the final arc can focus on characters and the future.

But with all that out of the way, let's talk about some of the dramatic brilliance of the episode.

Dense as it was, the episode wasn't especially cinematic (I wonder how well the show would have worked as a self-contained history episode, showing--rather than telling--all the history we uncover. On the other hand, that may have led to too much revelation, as some mysteries remain, and it might have denied us some of the beautiful character moments in "No Exit"). But the fifteen minutes or so of drama we got were off the charts. Laura and Lee. Saul coming home to a pregnant Six and feeling his baby kick. Sam's desperate need to get everything in his head out into the universe. Kara's driving need to know how she fits into the mythology. I don't know how to convey how impressed I remain with these actors.

But the real drama takes place on the Base Star, where Kate Vernon, Dean Stockwell, and Grace Park dominate. Kate Vernon certainly rose to her material, waking up in trauma, then using her charisma to champion human values of mercy and compassion against the irresistible force of Cavil's fury, and finally standing strong as she marches to her certain death. And Boomer's subtle character arc was played with authenticity by Grace Park. The centerpiece of the episode, however, lies with Cavil. Ellen tries to persuade him that his human features are virtues, and he responds with a speech that demonstrates the experience of mankind, the wonders of the universe, and the relatable quest for more:

"I saw a star explode and send out the building blocks of the universe--other stars, other planets, and eventually, other life. A supernova. Creation itself. I was there, I wanted to see it and be part of the moment. And do you know how I perceived one of the most glorious events in the universe? With these ridiculous gelatinous orbs in my skull! With eyes designed to perceive only a tiny fraction of the EM spectrum. With ears designed only to hear vibrations in the air...I don't want to be human! I want to see gamma rays, I want to hear X-Rays, and I, I want to--I want to smell dark matter! Do you see the absurdity of what I am? I can't even express these things properly because I have to conceptualize complex ideas in this stupid, limiting spoken language. But I know I want to reach out with something other than these prehensile paws. And feel the solar wind of a supernova flowing over me. I'm a machine, and I could know much more, I could experience so much more, but I'm trapped in this absurd body! And why? Because my five creators thought that "God" wanted it that way."

Dean Stockwell has been a tremendous presence since he first showed up in "Lay Down Your Burdens," and the performance of that monologue is one of the masterstrokes of the show. The ideas expressed--and I agree, language limits the wonder of the concepts--encompass the series' explorations of origins and life in space while revealing the frustrating inability of John Cavil to transcend his humanity. With the series' turn toward Cavil as the ultimate villain, now we have a brief taste of his motivations, and I think he's more understandable, if not sympathetic.

Now, why is it called "No Exit?" I didn't see much connection to Sartre's absurdist play, not to mention any underlying "hell is other people" thematic content. I suppose it's a surface reference to Ellen's imprisonment on Cavil's Base Star, which is likely the most hellish place in the Galactica universe. Relatedly, I thought the entire imprisonment aspect was very gothic. 18 months of philosophical sparring on a bizarre illusion of physical reality (cylon projection) between a man and his creator, while, unbeknownst to them, Boomer's soul hangs in the balance had just the right mix of surrealism and gothic melodrama.

Moving on, we get more Biblical allusions, perfectly incorporated. There's the obvious creator/created relationship, Ellen making Cavil in her father's image. Of course, as Cavil makes clear in his speech about wanting to smell dark matter, he wants to be a god. I'm sure we've all noticed John Cavil's initials, a nice spin on Christian mythology. But my favorite religious allusion, of course, came from Ellen, as she offers Boomer an apple while preaching free will. Who's God, who's Jesus, who's Satan, who's Eve?

Never one to shy away from what can only be called grossness, Battlestar gives us more than we ever could have asked for with repeated references to John Cavil doinking Ellen Tigh (whose patented move, in case you don't recall from New Caprica, is "the swirl"). If you've never seen the simultaneous culmination of Oedipus and Elektra complexes, Battlestar's here to help.

Ronald D. Moore has caught flack from fans for making it up on the fly, so to speak. But episodes like this show just how well his method can work. Showrunners can either have a plan from the outset, an overarching idea of how all the pieces fit together, like Rob Thomas had for each season of Veronica Mars. Or they can do what all storytellers do: as the story goes on, make every event feel inevitable. He clearly didn't know who the Final Five were when he introduced the characters of Saul and Ellen and the rest, but the revelation of their identities fits perfectly. It feels like it's been designed that way from the beginning. What's more, an episode like "No Exit" that ties together everything--from what we know of the cylons and humans to new revelations, from the cylon histories to the present plights of the characters, from resurrection technology to FTL drives--makes it feel like there has always been a grand design, even though there wasn't one, per se.

As for the future, next week the cylons in the fleet will vote on whether or not to stay with the humans. In "No Exit," Sam begs Saul to stay with the fleet, because "it's all starting to happen." The miracle, gift from the angels, is happening.

What do we think he's talking about? And though the Daniel line was corrupted, apparently permanently, could we know a Daniel? Starbuck's an artist, after all, and somehow fits into the mythology. Of course, Caprica features a character named Daniel Graystone, which was my first thought as to Daniel's identity, but speculation is fun.

What are the implications of resurrection technology existing on Kobol? Do you agree the Lords of Kobol were the only ones who could use it, hence being called gods in the scriptures? Are the Lords of Kobol extinct, or perhaps angels? Is Kara an angel? Is Gaius the one, true god? What does it mean that Gaius sees someone nobody else can the same way the Final Five saw visions warning of apocalypse on Earth? Who else has seen visions that guide their actions? Obviously Gaius and Six, but does Kara's phantom Leoben from "Maelstrom" count? And again, please help flesh out my understanding of the cylon/human history.

I'm Here to Recruit You

United States of Tara is renewed for a second season (and in related news, Rescue Me is renewed for a sixth, though their fifth has yet to premiere, and their fourth is a disaster). I am thrilled, because I kind of love Tara. But here is a problem with my critical faculties: I am unable to objectively judge series with gay subject matter.

I enjoy the storylines with Tara and her alter personalities, and the cast is uniformly excellent (expected from stars Toni Collette and John Corbett, as well as film actress of the year Rosemarie DeWitt, but the kids, played by Keir Gilchrist and Brie Larson, are just as engaging). But I am constantly waiting to see what happens next for Marshall, Tara's gay son.

After each episode ends, I realize how giddy I am having just watched my analogue on screen. Okay, we're not exactly alike, but not only is he young and gay, he's a raging cinephile with shades of old man. He's already name-checked Rashomon, Brief Encounter, and George Cukor, among others. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn't positive he was gay until it's explicitly demonstrated in the show, which wasn't until the third episode. So at first, my blinding love for this character and show came from his personality, revealed through his baking, his monogrammed PJs, and his Cabinet of Dr. Caligari poster.

But now I can't tell if the show is great or not. I love it regardless, and like I said, the cast is strong. The highest compliment I can pay Toni Collette is that I see each of her alters as separate characters. I'm also partially blinded by my love for Rosemarie DeWitt. A few episodes in, Nate Corddry joins the cast, rounding out the best ensemble on Showtime.

So the cast is good. What about the writing, the direction, etc? Well, I loved Juno as it is, but I wouldn't have guessed this was a Diablo Cody-written series. I appreciate her pop culture sensibility, but I'm pleased to see it's toned down here. On the other hand, I haven't exactly been blown away by direction, and I suppose the biggest reason for my hesitation is the story at large. I'm not sure it's worthy of the label "great." At this point, it certainly doesn't seem like the series intends to explore anything beyond the surface premise of a family dealing with DID. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it feels a little wanting, like the characters and universe are prepared to take on greater meaning if only their crew would allow it.

As fate would have it, my investigation into my reactions to the series led me to a greater realization. The reason I'm blinded by series with significant gay content, especially ones this authentic, is because they're so rare.

Consider: what do gay children have to watch on television that reflects their lives? Don't say The Real World. Certainly part of the reason I stuck with Dawson's Creek was its prominent incorporation of a gay character. But I'm not sure I've seen a more realistic portrayal of gay youth than Tara.

I recall last year's GLAAD survey which revealed only 16 gay characters (including one omnisexual cartoon character and one supporting turn from an immediately cancelled series) crop up in network prime time. The scope extends from Kevin McAllister on Brothers and Sisters, arguably the lead male (and judging by its fandom, easily one of the favorites), and his backup dancers of boyfriend and uncle, to Oscar Nunez on The Office, who is good for a gay joke or two, to Devon Banks on 30 Rock, who shows up in a couple episodes per season, though is admittedly super gay. One bone to pick: Lost, a series seemingly built on romantic connections among its billion characters, couldn't find room for a single gay character outside of the inconsequential (and inconsequentially gay) Mr. Friendly?

Similarly, there was supposed to be only one black main character on network prime time this season, but the Family Guy spinoff Cleveland was pushed back. At least they have one. No network prime time series is built around a gay character.

So I'm understandably drawn to my television representatives, what few there are. I've ignored cable, but they're much better about diversity. From shows I care about: Mad Men has Sal and friends, Rescue Me featured a couple gay subplots (The Shield, too), and then there's The Wire, which just ended. (One of these days, I have to watch Torchwood.)

Harvey Milk's thinking on homophobia was that if every gay person shared their homosexuality with their loved ones, the majority of Americans would realize acceptance. Similarly, if homosexuality were culturally normalized, if more people saw more (and realistic) depictions of gay people on television (one of the defining information sources of the day for mass America), homosexuality wouldn't be so weird and scary. The more important byproduct is that gay youth would sooner understand what they're going through. When you don't know what being gay is, even if you've experienced same-sex attraction, how do you know you're gay?

As you may know, former Secretary of Education Margaret Spellings is my Bush Administration arch-nemesis. Yes, singled out among all of those ideologues, Spellings, for me, stands alone. Not for No Child Left Behind, but for an episode of a PBS series where kids learn about each of the states. In the episode about Vermont, the main character ran into a lesbian couple. Spellings decried the use of public funding for an episode with content that parents may find objectionable, and PBS decided not to air it.

This is a commonly accepted argument, even among moderates, that parents should choose how and when to tell their children about homosexuality. While I agree that parents should be allowed to parent (and the state should let parents parent for themselves), I despise the notion that there's something objectionable about homosexuality, something children shouldn't learn about the same way they learn about other social occurrences.

Gay children have almost no sexual identifiers in culture, no gay role models, no gay historical icons. At bedtime, they aren't read gay fairy tales. Prince Charming never rescues another prince. Children don't come across any gay myths. And gay superheroes, whom you'd think would be more prevalent given the elaborate costuming involved, are only now taking root in the comic world. It's no wonder so many young people don't recognize, cope with, or reveal their homosexuality.

As I said, I'll take what I can get. So I'm happy with the Gaeta revelation in the Face of the Enemy webisodes, even if it occurred after the fact (they were conceptualized and filmed after the series ended) and only resulted in a same-sex peck. And I'm thrilled with the post-Deathly Hallows Dumbledore admission. But I can't help but blame JK Rowling for not including Dumbledore's sexuality in the books, because ignoring homosexuality in a children's book with a prominent gay character smacks of Spellings' reasoning. Rowling claims it just didn't make sense to throw that information in somewhere. I'm disappointed regardless, but better late than never.

So I'm not sure United States of Tara is a great show. But I know that whenever an episode ends, I can't wait to see what happens next to Marshall. Now I get two whole seasons to find out. It's a start.

The Higher, the Fewer

It is without sarcasm, irony, or sardony that I announce: Sarah Palin done good. Contextually, I can only assume it was unintentional, a deliberate attempt to defy liberal grammar that accidentally conformed to its elitist standards, but the fact remains. Sarah Palin, on at least one occasion, used "fewer" properly.

The story involves a campaign by Obama supporters to donate to Planned Parenthood in Sarah Palin's name. In response, the former SNL actress told a reporter that she would "like to see fewer and fewer abortions." Yes, ladies and gentlemen, "fewer abortions."

I don't want to lecture you, and I assume you're all bright enough to figure out if "less" or "fewer" modifies discrete units. Instead, I'm here to mourn the dying "fewer," and maybe, just maybe, encourage its revival.

Assuming you are one of my two friends (we're up one!) that is reading this, you have probably experienced my "fewer" fury of late. I apologize for any bleeding. But as Liz Lemon might say, "the word 'fewer' deserves a defender."

I want to blame the Rove machine's anti-intellectualism movement for the flouting of third-grade grammar in the professional world, but they merely tapped into an extant, pervasive apathy. One prominent cultural contribution of the '90s is the slacker subculture; caring about how you come off--for instance, the sentences you spew--is inauthentic self-consciousness. Lame!

Unfortunately, misusing basic terms, which everyone knows was the first volley in a subtle and trenchant cultural rebellion, has been misconstrued as a societal demand for Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?

Individuals regularly fall short of perfection, but companies ought to employ vigilance in refining their public presentation, lest some of us get the wrong idea.

Every checkout aisle with a sign saying "X items or less" perpetuates the misuse. The signs at Target, among other stores, say with a smidge of arrogance, "X items or fewer."

Pumping gas the other day, I was subjected to my local mix station's mantra: "Less commercials, more music." Unfortunately, this is a common phrase structure.

How about this new ad from BMW: "Less emissions. More driving pleasure." Maybe it's correct in German.

My favorite "fewer" failure comes from Starbucks, whose napkins, in their infinite superiority, are trying to shame us with a new slogan: "Less napkins, more plants, more planet." How very green of you, Starbucks, but get back to me when you've completed your ESL course.

For the record, Sarah Palin out-grammared that elitist bastion Starbucks. I couldn't be prouder if I were eating moose chili this very moment.

Is it so hard to use proper diction? I occasionally find myself boldly splitting infinitives, a violation I didn't thoroughly learn in school, so I'm no grammar god. But when people identify split infinitives elsewhere, I remember to be on the lookout for my own. So maybe just pointing out the rampant, incorrect usage of "less" will help.

I hope I've at least partially shamed you into trying to use "fewer" where appropriate. I mean, if Sarah Palin can do it...

Even if not, this is your chance to help save an endangered word. You might sound more educated in the process. Are you tired of hipsters and Republicans changing what words mean? Now's your chance to take a stand. That, or take your English rebellion full retard: throw in with Miss Teen South Carolina...and such as.

My Super Sweet Bailout

We all know these are tough times. (I really shouldn't be the one writing this, however ironically.) But I think we can all agree that the true victims here are the New York bankers. In order to receive federal bailout money--you know, part of the trillion taxpayers are giving up--banking executives must have their pay capped at $500,000! That is, if President Obama gets his way.

Maybe you don't believe me. Maybe, you say, the bankers should learn to do without three social galas, two vacations, and private school every year. Well, the New York Times begs to differ.

Go read the article; I'll be here when you get back. We can laugh and/or shout together.

Now you see. These executives are accustomed to a lifestyle dependent on ostentatious displays of money, irrespective of their actual wealth. Their very identity is wrapped up in trainers, gun-toting chauffeurs, and summer homes in the Hamptons. To deny them that is to reveal the emptiness underneath! As a society, we need to ask ourselves how heartless we're willing to be, how indifferent to the costs of others.

And, scene.

New York Times, I have one question: WTF?

You can't be serious. Or so I thought, until you kept brushing off criticisms and delving further into your accounting of high-class expenses, as if we'd all see your point in the end.

Talk about actively embracing your stereotypes: irresponsibly liberal, out-of-touch, elitist. I hope Fox News has a field day with this. Colbert, too.

What part of Obama's campaign pledges did you miss? Was it has repeated promise to go "line by line" to cut wasteful spending? His acceptance speech: "It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice. So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers."

Or maybe you missed his inaugural address: "...as much as a government can do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies...the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job...What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility...this is the price and the promise of citizenship."

I appreciate the look at the expenses of New York's upper crust. It was fascinating and educational in a way that Real Housewives of New York always leaves me cold. But framing it as an argument against pay caps for banking executives relying on money from the rest of the country's workers is simply inflammatory.

Bankers whose companies are dying have two options: 1) go bankrupt, and receive a $0 annual salary (in addition to, one assumes, a hefty goodbye package). Or 2) accept federal funding, and a maximum annual salary of $500,000.

Because there's no good reason to reward a failing company. And half a million ain't no punishment. The fact remains, these people can easily do without their social status symbols. There is no incentive for the American people to fund the lifestyles of those whose bubbles are currently protecting them from what the rest of the nation is going through. Banking executives should be satisfied they're not contributing to the rocketing job loss figures.

What strikes me about the article is its insistence that banking executives must keep their appearances up, despite the financial crisis going on around them. Let's all get dressed up and meet below decks for a fancy meal while the Titanic sinks. Who are they trying to impress? "Most well to-do families take at least two vacations a year." The article is full of such well-reasoned gems. "If you run a bank, you can't look like a slob."

It's the adult version of My Super Sweet 16. "If I don't get a Range Rover, I'm never talking to my taxpayers again!"

Colbert's buzzwords of "truthiness" and "wikiality" are as applicable as ever. Confronted with reality, people make their own (and I'm not talking about entangled particles, this time). Whether it's the New York Times arguing that banking executives are entitled to their privilege, or Cheney complaining about decorum at the White House because President Obama deigned to remove his suit jacket. I can't tell you how happy I am to have an executive that has its priorities straight.

More Grammyish Thoughts

To be honest, I just wanted to show some videos I came across.

Record of the Year:


I like the "Gone, Gone, Gone" video more, and it's certainly more fun, but I couldn't embed that one. Thanks a lot, Puritans!

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss Win Exhibit B:


Nuff said.

Here's the video for "Viva la Vida." I'm not sure why I watched it, but I'm glad I did:


Is it me, or does this video profoundly miss the mark? I'm not a great fan of the song (I don't dislike it either, but I will admit to being curiously fascinated by it, probably because it touches upon so many subjects I should be interested in). But objectively, "Viva la Vida" is epic. It's about the costs of godlike power. Or something. Anyway, the album cover is a Delacroix, and that's what the video should aspire to. Something romantic and indulgent and committed to extravagance. This should be right up Coldplay's alley! Roman cavalries, Jerusalem bells, worldly battles... this video doesn't come close to the grandeur required. A small part of that is Chris Martin and his dorky dancing--Bono has the charisma for that kind of flamboyance, but Chris Martin is someone I'd make fun of to his face. But the majority of the blame lies with the director. I tell you what, Coldplay, if you want an appropriate music video for "Viva la Vida," shoot me an e-mail and I'll hook you up.

If you saw the latest SNL Digital Short, my favorite part happened before the song began: "...And...T-Pain." But more importantly, Bjork wrote a new song:


It may be kind of outdated to rip on Bjork, but I loved the absurdity of SNL's Iceland.

Okay, I'm done with the Grammys.

P.S.

Viva la Grammys

A Grammy upset has everyone who didn't hear the Grammys are the Lehman Brothers of awards shows in an uproar. I nothing the Grammys, but I do know a thing or two about loving awards ceremonies that seem to be in decline. The key word here is "seem".

In case you haven't heard, the big hubbub involves the Robert Plant & Alison Krauss sweep of both Album of the Year (Raising Sand) and Record of the Year ("Please Read the Letter"). Apparently, one of those was likely to go to Coldplay for the album or song Viva la Vida, so now everyone's bagging on the juggernaut.

First, I'm happy for Plant & Krauss, because I love Raising Sand. Still, "Please Read the Letter" isn't my favorite song off the record. But, and this is an important question, people actually wanted Viva la Vida to win? Maybe now Chris Martin will finally take off that ridiculous outfit. Anyway, I would have sacrificed all the Raising Sand love for Radiohead victories.

In Rainbows made me a believer--not that I'd tried other Radiohead albums and disliked them, just that I finally listened to Radiohead thanks to In Rainbows. However, its nomination for Album of the Year should have been enough. In Rainbows wasn't going to win any more than My Winnipeg could have won Best Picture. I don't want to get into another democracy encourages middle-ness spiel, but there you have it. The "best" works won't be honored by a popular vote without some serious politicking.

The important thing here, other than to point out that the Grammys are ridiculously insignificant, is that the list of Grammy-winners (or Oscar-winners or what have you) will always pale in comparison to the list of never-wons.

Let's switch to movies so I can be on solid ground.

I love the Oscars. Even in years like this where I mostly don't care who wins. It's fun to see all the stars on the red carpet, occasionally we get hilarious awards presenter banter, and even in bad years, it's fun to root for your favorites.

And every so often, a surprise victory reinvigorates you, and you stop worrying and love the show.

To illustrate my point about non-winners far outshining Oscar-winners:

Citizen Kane is the old standby, but at least it won Best Screenplay. The Magnificent Ambersons was nominated for 4 Oscars, but lost all of them. Meanwhile, The Lady from Shanghai, Mr. Arkadin, The Trial, Chimes at Midnight, and F for Fake weren't even nominated.

Also going unnominated by the Academy: Inland Empire, Letter from an Unknown Woman, Miller's Crossing, The Big Lebowski, Brick, George Washington, Persona, The Seventh Seal, Shame, Aguirre, the Wrath of God, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, Stroszek, Breathless, Tokyo Story, Army of Shadows, Ivan's Childhood, Andrei Rublev, Solaris, Once Upon a Time in the West, Once Upon a Time in America, El Topo, 3 Women, Killer of Sheep, Naked, Before Sunrise, Dead Man, Contempt, L'Avventura, Werckmeister Harmonies, The Headless Woman, and, of course, My Winnipeg.

Not to mention all the greatness that was nominated and didn't win. Now's a good time to mention that Viva la Vida won Best Rock Album and In Rainbows won Best Alternative Album. I repeat, Persona won nothing, and was not even nominated, at the Oscars.

Every year around now, the mainstream press asks if the Oscars are losing importance (because falling telecast ratings have oh so much real-world significance), while the cinephile community asks why we continue to watch the Oscars. These questions are settled. The Oscars were never exactly "important" in the sense of honoring greatness, and no, nominating populist works simply to increase ratings is not an appropriate way to regain "importance." And we watch the Oscars because we love them.

It really isn't about who wins (although we certainly love the approval when it comes). Not to sound too much like Penny Lane but: it's about being a fan. I like movies, even mainstream Hollywood despite all evidence to the contrary. I'd gladly support the movie industry however I can. And being a fan of the Oscars despite being regularly disappointed is not masochism if you accept that the awards are meaningless as indicators of quality.

Carry on, my wayward Grammy-lovers. The Grammys are no more or less disappointing than they've ever been, the trophies no more or less meaningless, but you're still going to love them and watch them next year. Meanwhile, I will keep watching the Oscars until the Kodak Theater breaks off into the ocean, and probably after that. I'll probably spend much of the morning after complaining about another stupid slate of winners, but that's part of the fun too. It's a delicately balanced emotional ritual, awards-watching.

But please don't let Slumdog sweep!

Calling All Quantum Physicists

As you know (because I know, and I entangled our brains), physicists have managed to do something we're all calling teleportation. Thanks to the New York Times, I'm pretty sure I understand what happened.

Basically, two ytterbium ions were placed in separate containers, with a kind of tunnel connecting them. Oh, I also thought it was cool (get it?) that they were just above absolute zero. Anyway, scientists took one ion, wrote information on it using a microwave pulse, and induced each ion to emit a photon. The photons were put through a device called a beam splitter, which has the option of reflecting the photons are letting them through. So they both either bounced off the splitter or passed through, and they hit their respective detectors at the exact same time.

However, since we don't know which photon came from which ion (because we don't know if they reflected or went through), the photons became entangled, causing the ions to become entangled as well. So now, if you move one photon one way, the other one will move the opposite way. Similarly, the information that was written on one ion, when erased, appears on the other ion, because their behaviors are entangled.

Thus, information disappeared from one place and reappeared in another without physically traversing the distance. Voila, teleportation.

Now, if this doesn't have your noodle cooking, get off my plane!

Here is the most intriguing illustration of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle I've encountered. Because we don't know which photon came from which ion, they complete each other. If one is moved to face left, the other moves to face right. Otherwise, both are facing both left and right. Only when we position one does the other "know" what to do.

But: just because we don't know which photon came from which ion doesn't mean they both came from both. One photon physically left one ion, and the other photon left the other ion. The entanglement suggests, in cases like Schroedinger's cat, the universe is in flux until we define it. That is, physical reality is dependent on our choice. Which sounds obvious, but I'm not talking about actions having consequences in the Shakespearean manner. I'm talking about reality being undecided until we choose. We determine physical reality.

Huh?

I guess it's not really as simple as that. We don't determine it, but in observation, reveal it. Then again, with quantum entanglement, I guess we do determine it.

Relatedly, what does this say about identity? If two entangled particles can switch identities simply because of our own observational uncertainty, I'm staying the heck away from all physics labs. Which brings me, as existential crises often do, to Krzysztof Kieslowski's The Double Life of Veronique. Maybe Veronique and Weronika were entangled.

What's puzzling me about this is the idea that, whether or not the photons naturally exist as one or the other--that is, when we look at the photons without physically moving them, one is the photon that came from Ion A, and the other is the photon that came from Ion B--when we physically change Photon A to act like Photon B, Photon B immediately acts like Photon A. So it doesn't matter what the natural state is. Even with certainty, or observation, we can still choose to switch the identities of the particles. Doesn't that mean that we can determine physical reality? Or am I misunderstanding?

And how long do the particles remain entangled? If I ate one, would it still respond to the movements of the other? Even better, if I ate Photon A, and Photon B were moved to act like Photon A, would the two particles physically switch places? I'm getting a lot more confident in the idea of physical transportation, but I need answers.

I'm getting all solipsistic and scared. But I'm comforted by the idea of transporting information, which is less useful for a Star Trek transporter than a replicator. I wonder how far we can take our manipulation of reality. Maybe defining the universe isn't such a bad thing.

Award Winners: Not an Experiment

As you know, I haven't had much enthusiasm for this year's movie awards. Blahdy blah, awards don't matter, but I love 'em anyway, blahdy blah. With that out of the way, the Oscars are almost here, so let's recap the major award winners, shall we:

Tonight came the BAFTAs, and the British Academy often outscores the US Academy when it comes to acting awards. Alas, Slumdog Millionaire won the top prize, and Danny Boyle won Best Director. I don't hate Slumdog--in fact, I kind of liked Slumdog--but I'm starting to. Honestly, I'm starting to nothing it, but that's even more disappointing.

In lead acting, Mickey Rourke won for The Wrestler. Rourke apparently has an outside shot at the Oscars, so I'll keep rooting for him. Meanwhile, Kate Winslet continued her blaze of something when she won for The Reader. How much does it suck to hardly win anything for, say, Heavenly Creatures, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and the rest of your interesting filmography, and then finally to break open the floodgates with, uh, The Reader?

In supporting categories, Heath Ledger remains unstoppable for The Dark Knight, and Penelope Cruz may remain the frontrunner for Best Supporting Actress for Vicky Cristina Barcelona. So three for four, guaranteed to beat the Oscars.

The WGA Awards also continued the year's consensus to honor mediocrity, bestowing the Original Screenplay prize on Dustin Lance Black for Milk. Slumdog won for Best Adapated. Boring. Waltz with Bashir, which I haven't seen, won for Best Documentary Screenplay.

But they got TV right: 30 Rock and Mad Men won for Best Comedy and Drama, respectively. John Adams won for Long-Form Adaptation, which is fine, but another slight on my beloved Generation Kill. In Treatment won for Best New Series, which is odd since Breaking Bad won for Best Episodic Drama for its pilot. 30 Rock's "Succession" won for Best Episodic Comedy. Recount, whose script was mostly effective, won Best Long-Form Original, so overall, the television awards demonstrated a commitment to quality.

Mad Men, 30 Rock, and John Adams also won their respective PGA Awards, so it may have less to do with honoring quality than going with the pack. I'll take what I can get for the best series on television. Nevertheless, Slumdog Millionaire won on the movie side, joined by WALL-E in animation and Man on Wire in documentary. So bored.

The Directors Guild fared no better: Slumdog Millionaire won the top prize. Waltz with Bashir won for documentary--again, no awards for my favorite docs of the year, My Winnipeg and Encounters at the End of the World--and Recount won for TV Movie/Miniseries. Yet again, the television awards were well-deserved: Paul Feig won for directing The Office's "Dinner Party," and Dan Attias won for directing The Wire's "Transitions." Better late than never?

Do you really need to know who won the Globes? In double descending order: Slumdog Millionaire, Mickey Rourke, Kate Winslet, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Colin Farrell, Meryl Streep, Heath Ledger, Kate Winslet again, WALL-E, and Waltz with Bashir. Oh, and Springsteen's "The Wrestler," which is not nominated at the Oscars.

I recapped the SAG Awards already, but if you're too lazy to look, just pick a random paragraph in this post, and replace that awards show with the SAGs (SAGAs?) and you'll be mostly right.

Just to remind you, even the most boring Oscar races tend to reveal some surprises. Will the Academy decide Slumdog's won enough this year and choose to send their votes elsewhere? If not, why did they do so to Brokeback Mountain? Slumdog Millionaire < Brokeback Mountain. It's simple math.

At the Oscars, airing in two weeks, I'm rooting for: Milk (I guess?), a non-Danny Boyle director, Mickey Rourke, Anne Hathaway/Meryl Streep, Heath Ledger, Penelope Cruz, and for original screenplay: In Bruges. Your turn.

The Word: An Experiment

in the beginning will be the word letters representations of sounds combine to become representations of the world symbols define the undefinable confining expansive and ambiguous ideas into physical shapes we chart diagram symbolize we abandon nuance complexity and contradiction everything is represented by finite symbols but in defining we necessarily bound the impossible indescribable everything) the corruption of organization (taxonomy government religion maps writing we must have order we must understand everything we must list and classify and name the unnamed and know the unknowable and never consider how much we cannot know we don't interpret the world we define it give it shape we never pause to consider the sacrifice organization begets vast knowledge but our capacity is even greater we can never achieve our potential for comprehension through definition because definition limits the infinite like time we experience succession events happen followed by other events we experience time as a linear construct this is false time does not move forward from the beginning any more than a plane expands from the center or a line extends from its midpoint the line plane and time are infinite in their dimensions always eternal what is the antonym of succession language is incomplete to an entity that experiences succession so that events happen and they are followed by other events that have already happened time moves forward to it we go backward what about an entity that slips through time seemingly at random time is not forward or backward to billy pilgrim we experience time cyclically nature is a system of cycles human history is a sequence of cycles psychology is a civilization of cycles the life of the individual: whole family nation species in birth we sacrifice what could have been to become another cog with the illusion of freedom and choice in death we-- for humanity time continues forward inexorable but we define our experience with time in order to attempt to understand it if time is the letter t we can manipulate it but time is not the letter t our comprehension is lacking definition organization structure once upon a time gender harmony existed and goddesses roamed alongside gods some say the rise of patriarchal civilization will result from the establishment of private property capitalism the free market freedom have not engendered sexual equality but private property is merely a symptom of symbolic thinking that which once was not is mine though nothing has changed about it ownership is organization property is the object organization begets classification begets hierarchy man is made of woman and man writing and alphabets and languages allow us to interpret the world and communicate our experience but we sacrifice potential and we subjugate the other and the apostrophe is possessive words are limited but ideas transcend structure corrupts institutions discourage humanity be your role not yourself only independence unachievable freedom can fulfill our potential natural imagination free from organization begets originality is impossible originality origin beginning there is no

Battlestar Galactica: "Blood on the Scales"

Spoilers for "Blood on the Scales" to follow.

So much for the revolution.

As predicted, Gaeta's little mutiny, correctly called a coup by Zarek, was doomed to failure. While we're at it, I was completely wrong about the grenade from last week, which just wounded Adama and Tigh, or maybe temporarily incapacitated them, but whatever it was, it brought about no deaths.

But I was right about one thing: Apollo and Starbuck handily take Galactica back from the rebels, which leads to some wonderful thrills like Starbuck in the men's restroom and the duo walking down the corridors, guns blazing. The other fantastic action scene came from the unlikely Romo Lampkin! Insert "pen is mightier" reference here.

Still, the pen as a weapon is another beautiful example of communication as key to revolution. Then we have the continued radio appeals from Roslin blocked by the communications officer on Galactica, who is now reporting to a communications officer. And the big war between the Base Star and Galactica had nothing to do with weapons, but instead a plea from Zarek to surrender and the commanding response from a cornered Roslin. Nothing left to lose, she's willing to give it all up for revenge.

"Blood on the Scales" is by far my favorite Michael Angeli episode, although it wasn't nearly perfect. I didn't buy the yuks between Tyrol and Kelly the munitions locker guard. I cringed at Tigh's response to Adama about being dead for a while. Nobody talks like that! I rolled my eyes at Gaeta's final story, but then the thought occurred to me that Gaeta's conversation with Baltar may have been in his head, which is too intriguing an idea to write off the scene.

With regards to being dead for a while, we have a couple pseudo-resurrections here. First Tigh is supposedly dead, and then triumphantly reappears to Bill. Then Bill is supposedly executed, and we even see such a scene, but he's really alive and well. I'm not sure if there's meaning to this, but I love the pattern.

Now, have I been underestimating Edward James Olmos all this time, or is he really taking advantage of his final few episodes? Probably some of both, but I'm certain I haven't been giving him a fair shake. It's the growl, which struck me as one-note early on, but has since shown layers of personality. Anyway, mea culpa. This two-parter is a stunning testament to Olmos' talents.

Of course, since the episode focuses so intently on Adama, Gaeta, Zarek, and Roslin, the sprawling cast from "The Oath" are mostly sidelined here. The cell block cylons are rescued and marched, and most help retake CIC, but are otherwise unimportant. Tyrol spends the episode crawling through tunnels, far too much time devoted to making his dismantling of the FTL feel like it's not a deus ex machina. Same with the Gaeta croneys outside of Hot Dog and, especially, Narcho.

Speaking of, the space shots in the opening are rapturous. I know it's purely emotional, but I could spend much more time watching those vipers fly through the fleet than they let us.

Hot Dog's hesitance in the opening scene sets up the impending second-guessing by all the Gaeta croneys. (Really, everyone from Kelly to Narcho, later on. Which reminds me of a thought I had rewaching "The Oath." 1) If Dee were still alive, Gaeta's rebellion wouldn't have gotten off the ground. Is she not the best officer the series has had? Another woman I'd have liked to see in "Blood on the Scales" is Seelix. If anyone showed no remorse last week, it was she, and it would have been thrilling to see her in action, even if she is on the wrong side.) But Narcho's the one who sets up a thread that must be followed for the rest of the season: one segment of the military may decide that they cannot serve side by side with gays, I mean, cylons. They won't pick up arms and try to obstruct the military, but they won't remain in it. Adama's going to have to figure out what to do here, and finally we're addressing Gaeta's initial problems with the cylon alliance in an adult manner.

One last thing before we delve into Gaeta and Zarek for presumably the last time. Roslin's "Not now, not ever!" speech is obviously one for the books. But what struck me about it is how it recalled a vengeful Greek goddess. Her booming voice appears out of thin air and threatens to use everything in her power to destroy a ship. Am I the only one who thought of The Odyssey? Unrelatedly, I continue to love the Roslin-Baltar relationship. Every moment shared by these two is fascinating.

Moving on, I'd like to reiterate Tom Zarek's dissonant view of himself as revolutionary. I rewatched "Bastille Day," his introductory episode, this week. Aside from reminding us that he's something of a near-martyr legend among the civilians, the episode also demonstrates that his empty democratic rhetoric is convincing for some but objectively empty. His pet cause was bringing down the Roslin administration, because in his view she was chosen, not elected. But she became president through civil procedure. It's like claiming Lyndon Johnson illegitimately won the presidency. Obviously her former position, Secretary of Education, is far from ideal for replacing the president, but circumstances in general are far from ideal.

His other buzzword back then was "freedom". When Lee offers him the deal of working toward freedom, Zarek says, all pretentious-like, "Freedom is earned." Well, yes, Tom, for criminals serving time, yes, freedom is earned. He makes it sound like he's been denied some natural right, when in fact, he's responsible for mass murder--blowing up a government building--and stole freedom from all his victims.

This is a roundabout way of reminding you that Tom Zarek is great with half-baked slogans about revolution and freedom but absolutely idiotic in execution. He thinks of himself as some great revolutionary when in fact he has little to his name outside of his crimes. The problem is, his rhetoric actually convinces otherwise intelligent people. Apollo negotiates to fast-track elections, because, he says to Zarek, "you're right." No, he's not. From a democratic theory standpoint, he's absolutely wrong. The people get to vote for their leaders, and those leaders appoint cabinet officials who are then approved by directly-elected representatives. If enough people die that a cabinet member inherits the presidency, this is an example of democracy working perfectly, not some totalitarian loophole. The system continues until the next constitutionally mandated interval for elections. (It turns out that Roslin was up for reelection 7 months later anyway, so democracy was upheld, but Zarek's understanding of democracy is still lacking.) This is the same problem I have with all the critics last week saying Gaeta and Zarek are right. No, they're not. Certainly the cylons aren't the most trustworthy people, but violent mutiny is not the right way to voice dissent. Otherwise, can you imagine how many times Helo would have taken over the fleet by now?

(One democratic theory sidenote: Gaeta's reprimands Zarek for assuming leadership over both the civilian and military sectors. But this is exactly the system of government we have in America. I think it's provocative to question something we've all taken for granted so long. Kudos to Angeli.)

If it wasn't clear last week, it's certainly clear during the Jedi Purge--I mean, the Quorum Purge. Tom Zarek isn't interested in democracy or freedom or what's right. He's interested in power. This is something we've known all along, but I'd like to remind those critics who defended him last week (boy, I'm really harping on that, aren't I?).

Gaeta, on the other hand, figured out what he knew all along too. In a moment of desperation, he started something he knew was wrong. By the end of "Blood on the Scales," he's atoned in the sense that he recognizes his sins. He's still self-interested--his final hope is for him to be written in history fairly--but that may have more to do with Angeli than the character.

Where do we go from here? Ellen Tigh, obviously. Last week I assumed Saul would die (thus preventing the writers from having to kill off Adama, neatly giving us some tragedy, suprising us all with his resurrection, and compounding it with the return of Ellen). This time around, I'm saying Anders dies. The rest happens the way I say, and he finds Ellen and returns with her. Or something.

Other than that, Adama's got a fleet to rebuild. Roslin's got a democracy to reinstate--and this time, it wasn't the cylons that killed off her government. Assuming they rebuild the Quorum of 12, I wonder if the Cylon Base Star in the fleet will constitute the 13th colony, with an elected representative and everything. All this has happened before, you know. And Brother Cavil's still out there, the phantom menace. Anyone think we'll see Gaeta or Zarek again, even if it's just in flashbacks?

Battlestar Galactica: "The Oath"

I wish I could say I waited so long to comment because "The Oath" was so brilliant I needed multiple viewings to understand the entirety of my response. In honesty, I just got around to seeing it, but it was indeed as brilliant as I let on.

The revolution has begun.

As expected, the post-Earth purposelessness plaguing much of the officials of humanity, in both government and military, has only fanned the flames of rebellion amongst the rest of the fleet. But as last week's "A Disquiet Follows My Soul" shows, the leaders of humanity and our main characters are getting their sea legs back. Laura Roslin, who pretends to want nothing to do with decision-making, has yet to formally resign from her position, and when Tigh comes to Adama with the morning report, she can't help but chime in. It's who she is.

Apparently, three more ships followed the example set in "Disquiet," refusing to accept cylon technology. To our knowledge, they are acting legally, under the umbrella of the states rights law passed last week by Zarek. But Adama grumbles that he'll throw the dissenting captains in the brig with the esteemed Vice President. Once again, we see anti-democratic decisions made by the characters we love, and once again it's hard to turn against them. After all, we have specialized knowledge of the cylons, and the individual personalities in particular, that most of the fleet doesn't. To Joe Caprican, the cylons perpetrated the apocalypse, then turned a peace-treaty into an occupation. What they don't know is that the Final Four are cylon in name (and ability) only. Tory may have super-strength, but she's in no way responsible for any of the anti-human attacks over the course of the series. Which, by the way, Apollo should know, but he rails against Tigh anyway, as if Saul Tigh, who fought the cylons alongside Lee in the miniseries, were somehow complicit in the genocide.

But I have a problem with all the critics siding with Zarek. I agree that Zarek and especially Gaeta (since Zarek's in it more for the power than the cause) have points. Maintaining analog technology on Galactica is what saved them in the first place (and notice the technological revolution going on in the background, the digital replacing the analog). But their little insurrection is no glorious revolution. It's a cowardly, undeclared mutiny. I think their cause is valid. I condemn their actions. To condone their uprising is an endorsement of freedom fighting, or as it's otherwise known, terrorism.

What makes this episode so brilliant is the complexity of the revolution. It's a multi-faceted beast, explored through relationships long dormant, and writer Mark Verheiden packs a lot into his 43 minutes.

Before we get into the meat of the episode, which was uniformly masterful, I want to address my criticisms of the episode:

First, I despise almost every scene with the Quorum. Do we ever see them acting like adults? On one hand, these scenes lend credence to Roslin's (and Adama's and Tigh's and Zarek's) regular dismissals of the civilian government as squabbling bureaucrats. But it's so underdeveloped. For such a political series, we should understand a bit about the individuals making up the Quorum. Instead, we get faceless children. The military, on the other hand, is so thoroughly filled that background players from Laird to Narcho got meaty roles in "The Oath."

The other scene I hated was the tail of that morning discussion between Bill and Laura. As soon as she called him on his passive-aggression, I paused the episode to see if it was written by Michael Angeli (nope, but next week's is), for whom no psychoanalysis goes unvoiced. Then, as Bill departs, Laura says she'll have dinner ready for him when he returns. For a series built on a foundation of strong, independent women and weak, touchy-feely men, this scene reeks of misogyny. Anyone who's seen five minutes of this show knows Bill would be the one cooking and cleaning while Laura tortures prisoners. Anyway, these are minor gripes, but I won't give them a pass simply because the rest of the episode is so deep.

Step one of the revolution involves getting Zarek to Colonial One without anybody knowing. When Laird the deck chief shows up, Gaeta tries to talk him down, the first in a long line of scenes emphasizing Gaeta's role as communicator, and thus communication as key to revolution. But Laird is immovable (just as Gaeta was when faced with possible vote fraud in "Lay Down Your Burdens"), and is taken out by Tom Zarek with the wrench in the hangar.

Obviously this scene is key, as Zarek's clearly willing to pursue this rebellion by whatever means necessary, but Gaeta may not be (as evidenced in his victorious "We can fine-tune our rationalizations later"). But what struck me was Zarek's cult-leader influence: "I also know a little about revolution, Mr. Gaeta." Really? It seems to me this man has been thwarted time and again in his schemes. We first met him in prison, after all. Then on Kobol, he is easily outwitted. Next he weasels his way into meaningless power by masterminding the New Caprica settlement plan. How'd that work out? Oh right, he was put in prison and sent to a firing squad. All last season he fomented political turmoil, pitting Lee against Roslin, but nothing came of that, either. In fact, he ended up in jail once again. How, exactly, is he so convinced of his revolutionary prowess?

Anyway, this all serves to remind us that Zarek's past life is that of a freedom fighter, which again is a fun word for terrorist. Interestingly, Zarek's primary contribution to the cause so far is also one of communication: manipulating Lee into returning to Galactica.

Meanwhile, the background Galactica crew members make the most of their opportunities. Seelix, especially, blew me away in her brief encounter with Anders. She's the femme fatale to the conflicted, angsty Anders, and as he's captured and beaten, she doesn't even blink. Finally she gets to lead a scene--notice again the woman acting and the man reacting, one of countless examples of Galactica's feminism--and she rocks it.

Of course, Starbuck is the most badass of the Galactica women, and as soon as she sees people raiding the weapons lockers, she goes to her own and loads up. It's a visceral thrill made all the more exciting by how long it's been since we've seen Starbuck in action. Over at the hangar, Racetrack and friends prepare to assassinate an ex-interim president and sitting legislature member. Again, this is a cowardly revolution, undeclared and replete with score-settling. Lucky for Lee, Starbuck appears, shooting his would-be assassin without a second thought. Of Starbuck's greatest hits, it's among the top few (next to her miniseries viper rescue and her shooting practice from "Scar"). "Follow me. Please." I can't describe how much fun it is to see Starbuck in action.

Another band of rebels led by Specialist Gage breaks into Helo's apartment and kidnaps the fighting Agathons. Of course, they coldcock Helo with a gun and promise to return later to rape Sharon before leaving them in a cell. Charming bunch. I've heard some complaints about the rape threat, mostly that it wasn't remotely as shocking as the near-rape in "Resurrection Ship." But I'm not sure I'd be so cavalier about dismissing the threat of rape. When I heard Gage repeatedly threaten, my worry for Sharon leaped dramatically. So the Agathons are put in a cell with Six and Anders, the cylons and cylon-lovers out of the way. Where is Tory?

Finally, up in CIC, Gaeta's busy covering for his croneys until he absolutely has to execute his mutiny. In the perfect position to lead the revolution, he hangs up on Starbuck, obstructs Lee's communication with his father, and even betrays his far superior ex-boyfriend Hoshi. The connection between revolution and communication is striking (consider the 95 Theses or Common Sense), and having the analog man rebel against his digital father suggests an Oedipal rivalry writ large. This is especially clear given Gaeta's seven years of loyalty to Admiral Adama. As Lee and Kara discussed in "Revelations," parents have to die for children to fulfill their potential. Here, Gaeta literally fills Adama's footsteps, taking over his position, his ship, and the entire fleet.

But as I've made clear, this isn't exactly a revolution. Revolutions are about change. Has anything changed? Even if everything goes according to plan, and the Gaeta administration destroys its insurgency and resumes war with cylons, nothing remotely revolutionary will occur. Besides, revolutions are declared. Gaeta's men indiscriminately murdered the crewmen now lining the decks of Galactica, low-level officers who may have surrendered if they knew there was open violence. No, this is simple mutiny, a coup d'etat doomed to failure like all Oedipal rivalries.

Nevertheless, shots ring out in CIC, and Jaffee is murdered defending his oath. Gaeta, in the midst of his sneaky, deceitful rebellion, has the audacity to suggest Adama and Tigh have committed treason and arrests them. Of course, Adama is no shrinking violet, and Edward James Olmos is just getting started dominating on this show. "I want you all to understand this: If you do this, there will be no forgiveness. No amnesty." I wonder if that's true. I don't doubt he's right about Gaeta, that he will die with nothing, but I have a hard time believing such a forgiving group of people won't ultimately pardon most of the mutineers. Meanwhile, in a nice background touch, Hoshi is marched off in the other direction, implying that my new favorite supporting character is the only other Adama loyalist in CIC.

The episode is full of quick or subtle or background graces that give the revolution some texture. Things like Starbuck and Apollo running into one of Adama's men also fighting for the cause. They're not the only insurgents defending the old man. Things like Roslin condemning Zarek for his "dangerous ideas." As I said, his ideas I agree with, but Roslin was never much for free speech.

Speaking of Roslin, she never really resigned from her roles. As soon as Starbuck and Apollo (yes, he's Apollo again) arrive and tell her about the danger Bill's in, she immediately has a plan to use Baltar's wireless. When they get to Baltar's compound, it's a pleasant surprise to see that Tyrol is not only fortifying the area but apparently leading a network of Adama loyalists all over the ship. They've already got a reliable communications network going, and remember, communication is key. Once again, Roslin immediately makes the necessary decisions, sending the kids off to the Secondary Storage Bay while she negotiates with Baltar. But that look on her face when Tyrol reveals that Adama's been captured, the worry that's been building since she learned of Gaeta's mutiny, kills. And it's not even my favorite Mary McDonnell moment of the episode.

No worries, though. Bill and Saul handle themselves beautifully. As soon as Adama abruptly turned on his prison guard and stood there refusing to budge, I knew we were in for a treat. Tigh doesn't even get a shot in, since this is Bill's episode to shine. But the shots of these two old men, guns in each hand, rising from the dust of their scuffle is exhilarating.

Finally we get to Baltar, self-important as ever: "If they're coming for anyone, they're coming for me." I wonder what it's like in Gaiusland. Relatedly, I would love to watch a series headlined by Mary McDonnell and James Callis. More than any other couple on the show, these two have such chemistry that they elevate each of their pivotal episodes. I'm talking about the debates in "Lay Down Your Burdens," the captivity scene in "Precipice," the torture in "Taking a Break From All Your Worries," the strip-search in "Dirty Hands," the trial in "Crossroads," and salvation in "The Hub."

Gaius asks if she's come to pray, and Roslin responds, "No, I have something more tangible in mind." In openly expressing the practical uselessness of religion, she tacitly admits to past mistakes and acknowledges that she and Baltar understand each other better than anyone else. His lackey cautions against cooperating with Roslin, but Roslin just smirks and looks at Baltar, because the cultist is inconsequential, and Roslin knows her relationship with Baltar, whatever it is, carries more weight. Of course, his survival instinct helps too, but the way they both play it suggests Baltar and Roslin have something like respect for each other, despite their sins. Hence, Laura's final appeal that "this is our last chance to atone." Elsewhere on the internets exist rants calling this scene a reversal of the strides made in "The Hub," which is ridiculous. Roslin and Baltar will always treat each other with snark. The larger reading, that Laura comes to Gaius and the two cooperate to maintain the current administration, is more significant.

The key to quelling Gaeta's rebellion is Roslin's direct appeal to her citizens. It's a moving speech played with a quiet desperation by McDonnell appealing to a sense of hope, but the most important characteristic is that it's a speech. The big counterattack is another act of communication, and Gaeta prevents as much fallout as possible by silencing it. Because we can't have people expressing dissent, now, can we?

Finally, let's get into Mr. Felix Gaeta, shall we? As Baltar makes clear, this is a man who's had no problem playing both sides in the past. During the Face of the Enemy webisodes, we learned that on New Caprica Gaeta made lists of essential prisoners for an Eight, who in turn had most of them executed. Out of guilt, he repressed the knowledge of his almost certain complicity in genocide, but Baltar reveals in "Taking a Break From All Your Worries" that he was aware of Gaeta's crimes. Building on the theme of atonement--atonement for all the sins committed since Armageddon in the miniseries--Baltar forgives Gaeta, asking him to reconsider his ill-conceived quest for redemption. Gaeta hangs up. After all, Gaeta's role has been about obstructing more than facilitating communication.

In the home stretch, it still surprises me how much the history of the series informs every scene. The history between Baltar and Laura, Baltar and Gaeta, Gaeta and Adama, Adama and Tigh, Lee and Kara, Anders and Seelix, Gage and Helo... They're really making the most of these final episodes.

And in the grand To Be Continued finale, many things happen at once. Bill and Laura kiss for maybe the last time. "I came here because I don't want you to worry about me, and I know what you have to do." Baltar helps Laura onto the escape ship, arranged by Tyrol and his masterful behind-the-scenes counterinsurgency efforts, apparently in contact with the base star. Tyrol, Apollo, and Starbuck escape to retake CIC, no doubt. And Adama and Tigh prepare for their last stand, like civil war soldiers (which, in essence, they are). Or more accurately, Butch and Sundance. "It's been an honor to have served with you, my friend," says Bill, but he's met with silence, that grizzled Saul Tigh resolve unwilling to acknowledge the potential for death.

And then an explosion in the Secondary Storage Bay, followed by the three most frustrating words in television.

Where do we go from here? I think a few things are obvious: Gaeta is a dead man. The dying leader, perhaps. Apollo and Starbuck will retake CIC. I'm not sure how they'll get out of the Adama/Tigh explosion--and since I caught the episode late, I didn't see the previews--but I have a theory: Saul dives on the grenade and dies. But he can resurrect, one assumes, and he is reunited with Ellen, maybe on Earth. Friday promises to be a pulse-pounding conclusion to this pseudo-revolution story, since Ronald D. Moore called it a two-parter on the podcast, and I can't wait.

"The Oath" is brimming with significance, so I apologize for the length. But as I said, writer Mark Verheiden explored the idea of revolution or civil war or terrorism so completely, and populated the story with so many engaging relationships, and topped it off with a sugar coating of such badassery at the hands of Adama, Tigh, and Starbuck, that I had to cover everything.