Whether on television or the silver screen, Science Fiction and Fantasy of the bygone eras has some best standards that are always worth reconsidering.
For example, it’s pretty easy to take a gander at the era of the 1950’s and come up with a list of the finest flicks that demonstrate what an adventure from those days looked like. While the stories themselves might vary significantly, there isn’t a great deal of visual difference between such entries as 1951’s The Day The Earth Stood Still, 1954’s The Creature From The Black Lagoon, or 1956’s Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. Aesthetically, they’re all drawn from the same palate, and – special effects being what they were – they all achieve roughly the same results. 1954’s Godzilla goes big and tall as efficiently as 1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man goes tiny, tiny, and tinier. While one might argue that 1953’s The War Of The Worlds or 1956’s Forbidden Planet blew a bit more on their respective bells and whistles, there’s still a basic thread that one might see running through all of that decade’s very best, making them feel like they belong standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the history books as works deserving the places they’ve earned.
Things started to look up just a bit in the late 1960’s when Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey truly introduced audiences to a level of cinematic reinvention that wouldn’t quite become the norm for a few more years, mostly because not every studio could afford to invest so much money in this all-new level of visual trickery. Still, such entries as 1971’s The Andromeda Strain, 1972’s Silent Running, and 1976’s Logan’s Run showed that the trend was definitely worth exploring, even though these pictures might’ve been a bit darker or a bit more thought-provoking than mainstream audiences usually embrace on the silver screen. It wasn’t until George Lucas’s immortal Star Wars (1977) merged mainstream desires for stories about heroes with such cutting-edge special effects work that an all-new aesthetic came into being, and – to some degree – that continues to ebb and flow with what Hollywood and beyond tries to produce even today.
Storyteller Glen A. Larson – a producer and screenwriter whose career was still relatively young (in TV terms, anyway) – also contributed to this legacy in a noticeable way when he sought to bring such epic mythology that Lucas reintroduced to a generation to serialized television. Sadly, his groundbreaking and expensive Battlestar Galactica is overlooked by today’s viewers in large part owed to a politically significant recreation running on the SciFi (now Syfy) Channel gave it an mature makeover from 2003 through 2009, so much so that it barely resembled the somewhat juvenile but more wholesome original. This has always surprised me if for no other reason that the earlier Galactica had a great, great, great deal in common with Star Wars’ Original Trilogy, and – for better or worse – those flicks still resonate with modern audiences today. Why these same viewers turn their noses up and scoff at such heroes of Commander Adama, Captain Apollo, and Lieutenant Starbuck befuddles me to no end; and I say this even though I’ll happily concede that the mechanics of weekly TV production probably did the show no favors. In short, you can’t destroy the Death Star every seven days across a television season and have it mean as much each and every time: so perhaps there’s something to be said for reserving some spectacles for the cineplexes.
For example, it’s pretty easy to take a gander at the era of the 1950’s and come up with a list of the finest flicks that demonstrate what an adventure from those days looked like. While the stories themselves might vary significantly, there isn’t a great deal of visual difference between such entries as 1951’s The Day The Earth Stood Still, 1954’s The Creature From The Black Lagoon, or 1956’s Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. Aesthetically, they’re all drawn from the same palate, and – special effects being what they were – they all achieve roughly the same results. 1954’s Godzilla goes big and tall as efficiently as 1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man goes tiny, tiny, and tinier. While one might argue that 1953’s The War Of The Worlds or 1956’s Forbidden Planet blew a bit more on their respective bells and whistles, there’s still a basic thread that one might see running through all of that decade’s very best, making them feel like they belong standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the history books as works deserving the places they’ve earned.
Things started to look up just a bit in the late 1960’s when Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey truly introduced audiences to a level of cinematic reinvention that wouldn’t quite become the norm for a few more years, mostly because not every studio could afford to invest so much money in this all-new level of visual trickery. Still, such entries as 1971’s The Andromeda Strain, 1972’s Silent Running, and 1976’s Logan’s Run showed that the trend was definitely worth exploring, even though these pictures might’ve been a bit darker or a bit more thought-provoking than mainstream audiences usually embrace on the silver screen. It wasn’t until George Lucas’s immortal Star Wars (1977) merged mainstream desires for stories about heroes with such cutting-edge special effects work that an all-new aesthetic came into being, and – to some degree – that continues to ebb and flow with what Hollywood and beyond tries to produce even today.
Storyteller Glen A. Larson – a producer and screenwriter whose career was still relatively young (in TV terms, anyway) – also contributed to this legacy in a noticeable way when he sought to bring such epic mythology that Lucas reintroduced to a generation to serialized television. Sadly, his groundbreaking and expensive Battlestar Galactica is overlooked by today’s viewers in large part owed to a politically significant recreation running on the SciFi (now Syfy) Channel gave it an mature makeover from 2003 through 2009, so much so that it barely resembled the somewhat juvenile but more wholesome original. This has always surprised me if for no other reason that the earlier Galactica had a great, great, great deal in common with Star Wars’ Original Trilogy, and – for better or worse – those flicks still resonate with modern audiences today. Why these same viewers turn their noses up and scoff at such heroes of Commander Adama, Captain Apollo, and Lieutenant Starbuck befuddles me to no end; and I say this even though I’ll happily concede that the mechanics of weekly TV production probably did the show no favors. In short, you can’t destroy the Death Star every seven days across a television season and have it mean as much each and every time: so perhaps there’s something to be said for reserving some spectacles for the cineplexes.
In any event, I wanted to take a few moments to reflect on the franchise because it’s always been one of my favorites, so I screened the theatrical cut of the ‘Saga Of A Star World’ last night for good measure. This likely won’t be a full critical review – not the likes of which I usually do – but I’ll still have something to say about this version that may not exactly apply to the whole series run as a few bits and pieces were arranged differently for the purposes of putting that fateful Battlestar up on the big screen the way Larson conceived. In it, the villainous Baltar may not have lived – he’s executed about halfway through the action – and perhaps that’s the only cut that makes perfect sense. I’ll leave that up to you to decide.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After the destruction of the Twelve Colonies of Mankind, the last major fighter carrier leads a makeshift fugitive fleet on a desperate search for the legendary planet Earth.”
Even having lived through it, I’ve still found it difficult to convey to readers just how deeply the success of Star Wars changed the entertainment landscape.
This little Space Western caught Hollywood by surprise. Literally, few people saw potential in the production; and many expected it would come and go with little impact. Hell, there are even stories out there wherein other prominent directors recommended to their pal George Lucas to either avoid releasing it or tinkering with it to make it “better,” and, yes, I encourage readers to do a bit of research to learn just how many believed this now revered tale of good versus evil was destined for the ash heap of film history when the exact opposite came true. Once it was in theaters and it – factually – was held over for weeks and months at a time, every studio rushed anything similar they could into production pipeline, hoping to fool viewers to show up for more of the same when what they delivered was vastly forgettable by comparison.
For my money, the only thing that evolved out of this period that even casually stood up to the test was Larson’s Battlestar Galactica, an IP so thematically close to Star Wars that George Lucas and Universal Pictures had to come together and make some agreements so as to avoid significant and costly litigation. While the courts initially sided with 20th Century Fox and I believe some money was exchanged, there never was any huge trial investigating the accusations of plagiarism; and so-called experts who claim otherwise should probably do a bit more research. Of course, I’m not arguing that there weren’t artistic similarities because those are rather obvious: what I’ve always insisted is that if you spend a bit of time with each franchise separately then you can see that there are two unique universes that overlap in ways that might’ve been impossible to avoid, mythmaking being what it is.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After the destruction of the Twelve Colonies of Mankind, the last major fighter carrier leads a makeshift fugitive fleet on a desperate search for the legendary planet Earth.”
Even having lived through it, I’ve still found it difficult to convey to readers just how deeply the success of Star Wars changed the entertainment landscape.
This little Space Western caught Hollywood by surprise. Literally, few people saw potential in the production; and many expected it would come and go with little impact. Hell, there are even stories out there wherein other prominent directors recommended to their pal George Lucas to either avoid releasing it or tinkering with it to make it “better,” and, yes, I encourage readers to do a bit of research to learn just how many believed this now revered tale of good versus evil was destined for the ash heap of film history when the exact opposite came true. Once it was in theaters and it – factually – was held over for weeks and months at a time, every studio rushed anything similar they could into production pipeline, hoping to fool viewers to show up for more of the same when what they delivered was vastly forgettable by comparison.
For my money, the only thing that evolved out of this period that even casually stood up to the test was Larson’s Battlestar Galactica, an IP so thematically close to Star Wars that George Lucas and Universal Pictures had to come together and make some agreements so as to avoid significant and costly litigation. While the courts initially sided with 20th Century Fox and I believe some money was exchanged, there never was any huge trial investigating the accusations of plagiarism; and so-called experts who claim otherwise should probably do a bit more research. Of course, I’m not arguing that there weren’t artistic similarities because those are rather obvious: what I’ve always insisted is that if you spend a bit of time with each franchise separately then you can see that there are two unique universes that overlap in ways that might’ve been impossible to avoid, mythmaking being what it is.
There are those who believe that Galactica’s theatrical life needn’t be discussed critically because – for authenticity’s sake – what matters more are the original episodes that were more widely viewed than were the stand-alone movies. Well, the dirty little secret here from what I’ve read is that Universal conceived of the property firstly as a series of three telefilms, ones that could also find life on movie screens around the world, generating profits that might offset the cost of TV production; and it wasn’t until they saw what they had with the first adventure that they realized they had something special that just might make for good television. At this point, they went in a different creative direction, giving birth to the show which lasted a glorious twenty-one episodes. So, yes, I think this cut has always deserved a bit of reflection as a consequence.
The Twelve Colonies of Man are at a crossroads. Their mortal enemy – the Cylon Alliance – has sued for peace after a war that lasted 1,000 years; and the worlds have begun celebrating an armistice they’ve long believed impossible. Yet what they believe is a new beginning might very well turn out to be an ending of galactic proportions when the Cylons instead attack a largely reserved fleet and their disarmed planets, bringing mankind to the brink of extinction. As fate would have it, one single Battlestar – the Galactica – and its Commander Adama (played by Lorne Greene) defied military orders and the odds in a brave gambit to save itself and their people from this new onslaught. In the process, a new struggle begins, not so much centered on aggression as it is over survival.
So, thematically, it’s reasonably easy to see the similarities between the separate properties. Of course, there’s a big war taking place that harkens to that seminal conflict between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance, but – in the original A New Hope – we’re honestly not treated to all that much space-based warfare, except for the big ending. Yes, there are ships flying about blasting one another with their laser cannons, but – as a war story – the Republic has fallen, and the Empire has clearly won. What remains is a story about rebels – a ragtag group of survivors – and their bid to throw off tyranny. Whereas Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Princess Leia are trying to put themselves back on the map, so are Apollo (Richard Hatch), Starbuck (Dirk Benedict), and Boomer (Herbert Jefferson Jr.).
Where I think Galactica veers off in a slightly different direction is that – much like Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek – this gang sets off on a pilgrimage into the stars. As a people, they’re well past standing and fighting for a piece of the galaxy; instead, they’re on the run, hoping to find a new parcel of land somewhere out there – amongst the cosmos – always heading in the direction of that shining planet called Earth. The Rebellion was about retaking their universe from the political heavyweights who’d seized power and control; the crew of the Galactica would encounter more enemies than just the Cylon Empire – even in this first movie, the insect-like Ovions had their own agenda against humans – so I’ve always seen these differences and celebrated them on their merits.
Otherwise, sure, one might also suggest some structural comparisons between Galactica and Star Wars’ gamut of characters.
The Twelve Colonies of Man are at a crossroads. Their mortal enemy – the Cylon Alliance – has sued for peace after a war that lasted 1,000 years; and the worlds have begun celebrating an armistice they’ve long believed impossible. Yet what they believe is a new beginning might very well turn out to be an ending of galactic proportions when the Cylons instead attack a largely reserved fleet and their disarmed planets, bringing mankind to the brink of extinction. As fate would have it, one single Battlestar – the Galactica – and its Commander Adama (played by Lorne Greene) defied military orders and the odds in a brave gambit to save itself and their people from this new onslaught. In the process, a new struggle begins, not so much centered on aggression as it is over survival.
So, thematically, it’s reasonably easy to see the similarities between the separate properties. Of course, there’s a big war taking place that harkens to that seminal conflict between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance, but – in the original A New Hope – we’re honestly not treated to all that much space-based warfare, except for the big ending. Yes, there are ships flying about blasting one another with their laser cannons, but – as a war story – the Republic has fallen, and the Empire has clearly won. What remains is a story about rebels – a ragtag group of survivors – and their bid to throw off tyranny. Whereas Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Princess Leia are trying to put themselves back on the map, so are Apollo (Richard Hatch), Starbuck (Dirk Benedict), and Boomer (Herbert Jefferson Jr.).
Where I think Galactica veers off in a slightly different direction is that – much like Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek – this gang sets off on a pilgrimage into the stars. As a people, they’re well past standing and fighting for a piece of the galaxy; instead, they’re on the run, hoping to find a new parcel of land somewhere out there – amongst the cosmos – always heading in the direction of that shining planet called Earth. The Rebellion was about retaking their universe from the political heavyweights who’d seized power and control; the crew of the Galactica would encounter more enemies than just the Cylon Empire – even in this first movie, the insect-like Ovions had their own agenda against humans – so I’ve always seen these differences and celebrated them on their merits.
Otherwise, sure, one might also suggest some structural comparisons between Galactica and Star Wars’ gamut of characters.
Commander Adama delivers a veteran and fatherly influence in much the same way that Obi-Wan Kenobi does in that galaxy far, far away. At first blush, Starbuck and Han Solo might seem cut from the same cloth, but there are differences in that Solo thinks like a mechanic and Starbuck needs assistance in bringing his damaged craft home safely as a result of its battle damage. Apollo and Luke Skywalker both appear as impressionable inheritors of all that’s good and gracious in their respective galaxies; and a close watcher might even draw comparisons between their corresponding issues with absent or present father figures. However, Galactica has no associated Princess Leia amongst its castmates; there are women present, one might have a degree of Leia’s moxie, but they’re clearly no where near the center of the action in this pilot movie, nor are they possess much mythic potential to stand alongside the men in the heat of action. (I’m aware that changes to some degree as the show develops, but – as I said – this reflection applies entirely to this first chapter.)
Where I’d argue that Galactica takes a distant back seat to Star Wars is in the villain department.
In A New Hope, Darth Vader (David Prowse and James Earl Jones) clearly stands head-and-shoulders above any other adversary in the film. While Grand Moff Tarkin (Peter Cushing) is shown to mildly be holding the Dark Lord of the Sith in check, it’s still very clear that Vader serves as the black-hooded embodiment of evil across these various worlds. Nothing – and no one – really comes in as a close second. By comparison, Galactica’s Imperious Leader (voiced by Patrick Macnee) is a figure so shrouded in secrecy that he’s never even given a full screen reveal, seated instead in a throne high above the Cylon Centurions who show up to do his bidding. Clearly, there is a modest attempt to ramp up Count Baltar (John Colicos) as some galactic baddie; and yet aside from aiding the Cylons in the double cross of humanity he just has no relative teeth as a significant scene chewer. In the theatrical cut, he’s even beheaded for all of his trouble around the midpoint, so – again – where’s the true evil personae? Why, even the Imperious Leader doesn’t make it out of this first film alive – at least, that audiences know of – and this does loosely cheapen the experience even though it’s still a pure ‘good triumphs over evil’ that viewers expect in space operas.
An untested viewer might even leave the theatrical cut of Battlestar Galactica thinking that for all intents and purposes this story has effectively concluded, much in the same way the Throne Room softly signals that a new day has come to the Star Wars universe at the end of A New Hope. Both sets of heroes emerge as triumphant over the forces that would oppress them, and the only major difference is that Galactica includes a voiceover suggesting that more is to come. Indeed, as I said above more was planned to come – two additional telefilms – which would expand on the show’s core wartime mythology – you knew you hadn’t seen the last of those Cylons. Unlike Star Wars – Lucas and company spaced out those adventures by three years apiece – the Galaticans marched headlong into their next challenge only weeks later, making television history yet again.
Where I’d argue that Galactica takes a distant back seat to Star Wars is in the villain department.
In A New Hope, Darth Vader (David Prowse and James Earl Jones) clearly stands head-and-shoulders above any other adversary in the film. While Grand Moff Tarkin (Peter Cushing) is shown to mildly be holding the Dark Lord of the Sith in check, it’s still very clear that Vader serves as the black-hooded embodiment of evil across these various worlds. Nothing – and no one – really comes in as a close second. By comparison, Galactica’s Imperious Leader (voiced by Patrick Macnee) is a figure so shrouded in secrecy that he’s never even given a full screen reveal, seated instead in a throne high above the Cylon Centurions who show up to do his bidding. Clearly, there is a modest attempt to ramp up Count Baltar (John Colicos) as some galactic baddie; and yet aside from aiding the Cylons in the double cross of humanity he just has no relative teeth as a significant scene chewer. In the theatrical cut, he’s even beheaded for all of his trouble around the midpoint, so – again – where’s the true evil personae? Why, even the Imperious Leader doesn’t make it out of this first film alive – at least, that audiences know of – and this does loosely cheapen the experience even though it’s still a pure ‘good triumphs over evil’ that viewers expect in space operas.
An untested viewer might even leave the theatrical cut of Battlestar Galactica thinking that for all intents and purposes this story has effectively concluded, much in the same way the Throne Room softly signals that a new day has come to the Star Wars universe at the end of A New Hope. Both sets of heroes emerge as triumphant over the forces that would oppress them, and the only major difference is that Galactica includes a voiceover suggesting that more is to come. Indeed, as I said above more was planned to come – two additional telefilms – which would expand on the show’s core wartime mythology – you knew you hadn’t seen the last of those Cylons. Unlike Star Wars – Lucas and company spaced out those adventures by three years apiece – the Galaticans marched headlong into their next challenge only weeks later, making television history yet again.
Along with solid acting performances and winning special effects, Galactica delivered audiences with another bold franchise set out there in the Final Frontier. It may not have exactly been a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away but nor was it entirely where no man had gone before. The pilot movie only dabbled in the mythology it developed in the episodes ahead, and that’s likely because Larson knew to not bite off more than any group of viewers could chew. The emphasis was on adventure, one dominated by males who swaggered much like any space cowboys would; and all of this definitely made an impression on my young mind. While it wasn’t as perfectly conceived as its big screen counterpart, it was still a sight to behold; and I’m convinced I’m a better consumer for having lived through it than having never seen it. Just like Star Wars, it’ll always be a part of me; and if these humble words encourage any of you to give it another whirl – as opposed to that murky Syfy re-imaging – than more power to the both of us.
Battlestar Galactica (1978) was produced by Glen A. Larson Productions and Universal Television. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Universal Entertainment. (For clarity’s sake – in case anyone’s wondering – that version was the complete BSG collection set issued on the franchise’s thirty-fifth anniversary.) As for the technical specifications? Wow. While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds exception from start-to-finish: it all just looks excellent. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, there isn’t a one on the disc, but the packaging indicates that there was some linkage to online extras back in the original release window: if those are still active, I didn’t check them out.
Highly Recommended.
I know, I know, I know … “but the Syfy version was more politically relevant!” Sorry, folks, but that’s precisely why I’ll likely never rewatch the Syfy incarnation of Battlestar Galactica. For my money, the original series’ pilot which was edited into this theatrical release way back then and actually played in select theaters around the world just continues to resonate with the 13-year-old young’un still living in the basement of my soul. It probably always will. Granted, it suffers from a kind of bombastic storytelling that was the soup du jour when it came to late 1970’s storytelling sensibilities; so modern viewers should be forewarned. Back then, men could be men, women could be women, and you could easily tell the difference between heroes and villains, making this two-hour-plus opus about as good nostalgia-bait that has ever been.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Battlestar Galactica (1978) – the theatrical cut – as I viewed it from my very own home video collection.
-- EZ
Battlestar Galactica (1978) was produced by Glen A. Larson Productions and Universal Television. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Universal Entertainment. (For clarity’s sake – in case anyone’s wondering – that version was the complete BSG collection set issued on the franchise’s thirty-fifth anniversary.) As for the technical specifications? Wow. While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds exception from start-to-finish: it all just looks excellent. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, there isn’t a one on the disc, but the packaging indicates that there was some linkage to online extras back in the original release window: if those are still active, I didn’t check them out.
Highly Recommended.
I know, I know, I know … “but the Syfy version was more politically relevant!” Sorry, folks, but that’s precisely why I’ll likely never rewatch the Syfy incarnation of Battlestar Galactica. For my money, the original series’ pilot which was edited into this theatrical release way back then and actually played in select theaters around the world just continues to resonate with the 13-year-old young’un still living in the basement of my soul. It probably always will. Granted, it suffers from a kind of bombastic storytelling that was the soup du jour when it came to late 1970’s storytelling sensibilities; so modern viewers should be forewarned. Back then, men could be men, women could be women, and you could easily tell the difference between heroes and villains, making this two-hour-plus opus about as good nostalgia-bait that has ever been.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Battlestar Galactica (1978) – the theatrical cut – as I viewed it from my very own home video collection.
-- EZ
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