BSG “Daybreak, Part 2” - Review, Part 2

BSG “Daybreak, Part 2” – My Final BSG Review, Part 2

BSG Finale Part 2 Review BSG “Daybreak, Part 2” My Final BSG Review, Part 2

In the first part of my review of the BSG finale, “Daybreak, Part 2”, I examined the conclusion of the story arcs for some of the characters that we’ve been following for a good part of the series run. To start this next part of the review, I want to take a look one character whose internal driving force was only revealed to us in these final episodes of BSG to see whether we got the necessary closure for this particular plot line.

John/Cavil – The Cylon with a plan

In the episode “No Exit”, in addition to the information dump provided by the reawakening of Anders’ original memories of Cylon Earth, we were also given some interesting insight into the John/Cavil character and his unmistakable hatred for both his Cylon creators and the inherent limitations imposed on him thanks to their encasing him in a human body. In the scenes between Ellen and John/Cavil, we learn that John/Cavil is driven in large part by his rage against his creators and the subsequent desire to make each of them endure as much pain and hardship as he can create. The ideas presented in that episode carried on into “Daybreak, Part 1” where we see that John/Cavil clearly relishes how his plan to kidnap Hera would inflict much pain on Ellen to the point where he wishes he could have been there to witness it first-hand. While we’ve always understood that the Cylons saw Hera as being the key to their future – even more so in light of the loss of the Resurrection Hub – these scenes help us to understand that John/Cavil’s drive is also fuelled by his seeking revenge against those he believes have wronged him.

It’s for this reason I found something noticeably lacking in the showdown scene between John/Cavil and the Colonial/rebel Cylon alliance in the CIC. Although the exchange of Cylon resurrection technology for Hera made sense for addressing John/Cavil’s push to ensure the future of the Cylon race (I assume the reason why Hera no longer has the same importance to the Cylons as she had in the first half of the series is due to the shift in focus to restoring their immortality after the destruction of the Resurrection Hub), there was no resolution for the hatred he has for his creators and his desire to punish them. This was after all the first time he’s had all his Cylon creators present and aware of their true identity and more importantly, of John/Cavil’s role in creating some of the pain and suffering they’ve experienced. If anything, John/Cavil should have seen this as an opportunity to finally confront all of his creators over the wrongs he felt were done to him, if not flaunt how he had outwitted the fabled Final Five.

While he had that moment of satisfaction to crow in front of Ellen in “No Exit”, it clearly wasn’t enough for John/Cavil and this moment in the CIC should have addressed his unresolved anger toward the Final Five. This sense of self-hatred has been shown to be John/Cavil’s inner demon and by having him confront it before the Final Five, he would have understood that no amount of punishment he inflicts on his creators would abate it. This realization would’ve helped to better illustrate why John/Cavil opts to let down his guard and take a chance at peace not only between humans and Cylons, but between himself and his creators. When Tyrol attacks Tory, his impression of it being a betrayal would naturally cause all those emotions of resentment and anger to resurface, along with feeling like a fool for once again trusting the Final Five to do right by the Cylon race. In this light, John/Cavil’s suicide would not only be his way of making sure the Final Five are denied the opportunity to feel like they wrestled the upper hand away from him, but it would also be his acknowledgment that there’s nothing more to be gained by continuing his existence in such an imperfect form.

Although I understand Moore’s desire to make the idea of this whole confrontation being the result of some grand plan orchestrated by a supernatural force, the internal machinations that drove the character of John/Cavil still had some importance here for its part in being one of the driving forces behind the events we’ve seen in the series. With “No Exit”, we understood the true nature behind the John/Cavil character and his obvious course to self-destruction. A few dialogue lines should have been included in the confrontation scene in the CIC before Gaius’ speech about God and angels to allow us to appreciate that John/Cavil had reached the end of the road well before he pulled the trigger.

Gaius Baltar – A man who returns to his roots and finds spirituality on the way

One of the biggest payoffs in the last few episodes of BSG has to be the storyline that was created for Gaius Baltar. From the very beginning, we knew that Gaius was a narcissist, but we also understood that he was an unrepentant cynic, unwilling to accept or believe anything outside his own construct of knowledge and science. It’s one of the reasons why I initially hated Gaius’ transformation into a quasi-prophet of the Cylon god because it didn’t match with the profile we’d seen from seasons past. And yet, watching him in the CIC, pointing out to John/Cavil the unmistakable reality that all of them had been witness to events that defied conventional thinking, it brought this part of the character’s evolution full-circle, if not giving the purpose behind that journey greater clarity.

Considering all the players present in the CIC showdown scene, it becomes clear that only Gaius could truly articulate this reality to John/Cavil in a manner that would make him give pause. As Gaius points out in the scene, it ultimately doesn’t matter whether these orchestrated events were the product of the Lords of Kobol or the Cylon God or even some other totally unknown or undefined celestial power, that it didn’t matter what was behind this all-encompassing plan. Instead, all that mattered is that none of them could deny that they’ve been lead to that point in time, to that fork in the road where both sides are left to decide for themselves whether they wish the cycle of creation and destruction to continue or perhaps this time, to take the road less travelled.

From this vantage point, Gaius presents the reality that it ceases to be a question of whether one cares to believe in a supernatural force or not and that it’s more about accepting that this is the way the pieces have been laid out on the chess board with the next move being left to both humans and Cylons to make to determine what path their future will take. Unlike the others who believe in the idea of some supernatural force at work, Gaius never willingly believed such a concept; rather, it was something his scientific mind told him that he had no choice but to accept because the constant reality of it could not be denied. His lack of enthusiasm for the reality of there being a cosmic force is further exemplified by his discouraged reaction to Head Six’s admission on Earth that God’s plan is never done. Gaius is clearly not a religious man in feeling a responsibility to something greater than him, rather he simply realizes he has no choice but to ride the currents and see where it takes him.

Of course the other major development for Gaius was the resolution of the character thread regarding his relationship to his past, both in terms of his father and his upbringing as the son of a farmer. In my review of “Daybreak, Part 1”, I pointed out how the persona Gaius has presented to us from the start is more an idealized version of what he’d like to be than a genuine reflection of his upbringing. The time Caprica Six spent with Gaius’ father gave her that unique insight into why Gaius behaves the way he does and explains why she was able to look past it and fall in love with the man buried inside him. Her admission to Gaius in the corridors of Galactica before the fighting began of how she’s wanted for so long to feel proud of Gaius reflects the notion that Caprica Six, more than anyone else, understands Gaius and knows who he really is. This is a seminal moment for Gaius because for the first time in his life, someone has admitted to being proud of him not because of something he accomplished, but because of who he is as a person. At the episode’s end when Gaius admits to Caprica Six how he knows something about farming, we see the tearing down of the last wall of his facade and the acceptance by Gaius of who he really is and how being the son of a farmer can indeed be a noble trait.

Lee Adama – Free at last to fly

While Gaius has been one of my favourite characters in this series, Lee Adama has to be one of my least favourite, mainly because of how shiftless the character has been for some time. Fortunately, the flashback scenes in “Daybreak, Part 1” address this to some degree in trying to explain Lee’s lack of firm footing (see my review of “Daybreak, Part 1” for my take on what those scenes of Lee chasing the bird in his house mean).

While in “Daybreak, Part 2”, Lee’s part is mostly to facilitate the overall plot of the episode, I’m glad they gave the character that final scene with Starbuck and the acknowledgment that, in his own way, he’s finally found that firmer ground on which to stand. The flashback scene showing the pigeon finding its way out at last from Lee’s place resonates with the exhilaration Lee now feels, no longer held back by what he expects he should do, but instead feeling for the first time the sense of freedom, of simply following the wind to where ever it takes him. It was also a good move for them to show that his new-found sense of freedom wasn’t a result of Kara’s departure, but rather because of something that stirred within him. It’s probably for this reason why Lee was at last able to let Kara go and move forward with his own life.

Kara Thrace – A case for the journey mattering more than anything else

There’s no doubt that some of the most anticipated questions fans wanted to have answered revolved around the character of Kara Thrace, from what her role would be as the “harbinger of death” for the human race, to what exactly Kara had become after her apparent death in Season 3. Personally, I was not so much interested in knowing what Kara had become as what was the point of her returning to the series arc after supposedly dying. Besides, I suspect that any explanation of what exactly Kara had become wouldn’t be as satisfying as fans would like to believe as this approach would ultimately only take away the storytelling power that comes from keeping things in the shadows of mystery. Of course, that’s not to say that the various issues surrounding this character couldn’t have been handled better since they did end up leaving several other issues pertaining to this character unresolved, which depending on how you approach the character can make her resolution a little less satisfying than the others.

In my review of “Someone To Watch Over Me”, I pointed out that one of the reasons why it was one of the best Kara-centric episodes was because of its examination of the turmoil residing within the character. Thanks to the inclusion of additional flashback scenes to Lee and Kara’s first encounter, we’re once again provided with that much needed insight into her past to better appreciate where her character ends up. Indeed, these scenes shed much light not only into what Kara truly fears, and what that tells us matters most to her, but also of the reality of her relationship with Lee. From the start of the series, it was obvious that there was a mutual attraction between these two, an attraction that one assumed they refrained from acting on at first out of respect for Zack. And yet, as we saw in the scenes of their first encounter in Kara’s apartment, the reality is that Lee and Kara’s love is one that was always meant to be unfulfilled, denied from from taking hold because of the circumstances around them. Unlike in Season 3 where Lee had a hard time letting go of Kara, he understands the truth behind Kara’s words that she’s done what she needed to do, that it’s as much a reflection of her role in bringing them to Earth as it was accepting their shared fate that they were never meant to be together.

So what do we make of Kara? Was she an angel? Another vision in the mind’s eye? Perhaps knowing the answer to that is not what’s important here, as it’s clearly became less of an issue for the character herself. Instead, perhaps the focus should be on the journey she undertook and what resolution it provides to the character. As we saw in the flashback scenes in “Daybreak, Part 2” and the scenes with the apparition of her father by the piano in “Someone to Watch Over Me”, the one fear that has dogged Kara is the fear of being forgotten, of feeling like she lacks a direction to something that would make her existence matter. In that moment when Kara realizes that her time has come, that she’s completed whatever role she was sent back to perform, we realize that Kara has finally overcome that fear, has even made peace with it. While we’re left to speculate as to what Kara was in the end, there is still satisfaction in the knowledge that at least for Kara, she accomplished what she had hoped she would – be someone who wouldn’t be forgotten.

Coming up in the final part of my BSG review of “Daybreak, Part 2” . . . parting ways with Adama and Roslyn, my thoughts on the series ending, and what I wished we would’ve seen as the parting shot for this series.