Cool stuff they do with the camera

Honestly, this is the most technical phrase I can come up with to say what I have to say in this post. Sorry.

In any event, I am encountering a real stumbling block finishing up everything I want to say about the miniseries, there is just SO MUCH there. But, enough already, I think it's time to move on. Before moving on to "33" I just want to write a little about the way characters and events are filmed. A lot of these techniques or whatever are used in the miniseries and show up consistently throughout the entire series. 

For example - I didn't pin this one down right away, but I noticed that a lot of time THINGS or PEOPLE seem to be in the way preventing me from getting a good look at what is going on or who is talking. I finally started making connections in the "Collaborators" episode when Gaeta was about to take a one-way rip out the airlock. When Chief Tyrol is talking to Gaeta someone's leg is in the way, obscuring vertically about 1/4 (maybe more) of the screen. I was like, don't these people know what they are doing? I can't see all of Gaeta's face. But I also felt that I was part of the scene, as if I was seeing things from Tyrol's viewpoint while he is crouched down talking to Gaeta, who is kneeling.

So I went back and started looking consciously for this, especially in episodes I really like, and I found that they do this all the time and have done it since day one of the series. The perspective is often like looking over someone's shoulder (and seeing that shoulder, btw) from the back of the crowd.

For example, in the miniseries, right before the nuke hits Galactica (scene 11), there are actually three times, one right after the other, where someone walks in front of Adama as he says, "Brace for contact my friend." Try stepping through the scene and you will see that I'm right. I noticed this when I watched the scene at full speed, but I had something of a visceral reaction. It was only when I started thinking about the way I perceived these scenes that I started to try and figure out how they did it. In any event, this is what happens in real life, you look at someone or something and someone walks in front of you. It gives a real "you are there" feeling as you watch the action.

I would have loved to see them rehearse the scenes in the CIC when the nuke hits, because I think they are really well choreographed. Now, I am assuming that they didn't shake the whole set (as if), so the entire cast must have rehearsed falling and jolting at the same time, because it is really convincing. Moreover there a lot of different shots of the scene so that you view everyone falling from different angles. I kept trying to find a snippet where someone's timing is off, but there just didn't seem to be any. The same thing happens on the hangar deck, when the arm and then the body of a figure off-camera falls into the frame. The result is pretty convincing.

It's fun to compare this to the original Star Trek, when a siren wails and everybody pretends to be jolted side to side. Even back in the sixties it looked pretty silly.

Galactica also uses a lot of hand-held camera type stuff (hey, I am not terribly astute about what these things are called, I just know the effects that they achieve), which creates something of a documentary feel to the show. They are taking a completely artificial environment in a place that is not quite like ours, and giving it a very strong sense of authenticity.

I learned a lot about this approach to filming by watching an excellent, extremely underrated film called "Children of Men" (directed by Alfonso Cuaron), which, coincidentally, is about a speculative not-too-distant future when the human race is on the verge of extinction. That movie has a LOT of scenes with handheld cameras, and I really felt pulled in to the action and the experiences of the characters (the opening scene of walking away from a coffee bar that is suddenly blown up by terrorists is riveting).

Towards the end of the film there is a really long, unbroken sequence where the lead character, Theo, is running through a firefight to get to a building that is under siege. They filmed it with the cameraman running alongside the actor (Clive Owen). Sometimes you can see Theo, and sometimes you can't see him but you can hear him breathing while he is running and you can can experience some of the terror and confusion directly from his point of view. The net effect is to break down the barrier between spectator and participant.

It was pretty interesting to learn how they filmed this scene. Apparently they did a lot of rehearsals because it was so expensive and difficult to rebuild the set after every attempt. I think it took 3 or 4 tries, and in one of the unsuccessful attempts the cameraman actually fell while running (please don't quote me, I just don't have the energy to re-locate the reference for this information). On the last try something red splashes on the lens of the camera when Theo is running through a wrecked bus filled with people trying to hide from the shooting. Cuaron was like, "oh no, we have to do it again," and everyone else said no, this is really great, so they kept it. It adds a lot to the documentary feel.

In fact, as I write this, it suddenly occurs to me that Galactica and "Children of Men" are both about apocalyptic "what-if" situations, and they both use the same techniques to add verisimilitude to what is otherwise a totally artificial construct. The effect of all this camera work is to give an element of gritty reality and draw the viewer in to the action. The setting of Galactica, while not entirely unfamiliar, is nevertheless sufficiently different so that we recognize early and often that this is NOT our world. These effects mitigate the difference by conveying a recognizable documentary evening-news type feel to the series. I think it works really well and, in a lot of ways, Galactica feels more like news than like a television show.

Miniseries - Roslin and Adama and the path to leadership

Roslin and Adama are on parallel paths that converge at the end of the miniseries. Both are minor players in their respective spheres and both are at critical turning points in their lives. Roslin has just learned that she has terminal breast cancer and Adama is on Galactica, preparing to retire and give up the command of a ship so obsolete that it is being turned into a museum.

Their first meeting on Galactica, before the attack, is not a success.

They are on different ships when they receive news of the Cylon attack, and they each take on responsibilities that expand rapidly as the news deteriorates and the existing leadership structures disappear.

On what is supposed to be his last night as commander, Adama is sitting in his quarters reading when he gets a call from the CIC which has just received word of the Cylon attack. He responds in a matter of fact voice, "I'll be right up," and sits for a moment without moving. From that point on, as the situation becomes more desperate he remains calm and even taciturn.

In Roslin's part of the story, she learns of the attack after breaking down in private as news of her prognosis finally comes home. She immediately goes to the cockpit to find out what is going on, and reaches out and holds the pilot's shaking hand while she reads the news transmittal. This single gesture immediately establishes her as the leader, ready to take command when others are  overwhelmed. In the midst of panic and uncertainty she sets a goal (to find everyone trapped in ships above the planets and lead them to safety) and gives instructions necessary realize it.

Both Roslin and Adama make painful decisions with terrible consequences.

Tigh, Adama's surrogate, makes the most painful decision on Galactica when he vents 85 deckhands into space in order to put out fires that threaten the ship. Afterward Adama makes it clear that he would make the same decision himself, and I never doubt that is the case.

I think this scene is also interesting because Tigh, thrust into the middle of the crisis and forced to quickly make a critical decision, hesitates for a few seconds and looks off at Adama, as if for guidance. Once he makes his decision Tigh is clear and resolute, he doesn't look back. This type of moment happens elsewhere in the series (in "Scattered" Tigh must make several decisions immediately after Adama is shot. Once again he takes several seconds to decide and proceeds only after recalling advice from Adama from an earlier time).

I also like these scenes because the perspective moves to a view of Galactica from space and you can actually see the fires and bodies thrown out into space. In other words, the human costs of this decision are immediately made tangible. This happens at other points in the miniseries when ships explode - it's not unusual to see the pilot's body thrown out of the cockpit. (Aside from all the people thrown out of airlocks, take a look at "Epiphanies." It wasn't until the second time I watched this epdisode that I saw bodies thrown into space.) I always contrast this with "Star Wars" where we see ships blow up, but no person in them seems to get hurt, so the special effects of the explosion give a vicarious thrill detached from pain and death.

In Roslin's subplot the human costs are even higher. Roslin's mission is to find as many survivors as possible, and she manages to put together a fleet of ships holding 60,000 people. Roslin visits one of these ships, a cruise ship filled with families with young children. She promises the captain that she will take care of them, and chats with a little girl. Soon after she makes the decision to abandon this and other ships containing 10,000 people to the Cylons because the ships cannot travel fast enough. Roslin decides to break her promise and in the process condemns the little girl (and thousands of others) to death in the interest of saving the other 50,000 survivors. She sits in the cabin of Colonial One listening to the transmissions of people screaming and begging for help as the Cylons appear, attack, and quickly destroy the ships left behind.

Roslin and Adama also learn almost simultaneously that they are the most senior people left alive after the attack.

Mary McDonnell's body language and posture are very effective at conveying Roslin's state of mind at this moment. When she is sitting talking to Lee about her position (43rd)  in succession, we see her from the side. She is sitting with both feet flat on the floor, wearing black pumps and a business skirt. Instead of wearing her suit jacket she has a blanket draped around her shoulders. Her appearance expresses total exhaustion. At this point she learns that all 42 people ahead of her are dead and she must now be sworn in as president. She sniffles quietly, puts on her suit jacket and calmly says, "We need a priest."

An aside about the swearing-in ceremony - it is deliberately reminiscent of Johnson taking the oath of office on Air Force One after President Kennedy's assassination. This is not the only reference to the Kennedy assassination (at least to my eyes). When Callie shoots Boomer ("Resistance") it is strikingly similar to the news clips of Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald. Johnson, btw, did not need to be sworn in, the line of succession meant that he became president as soon as Kennedy died. Johnson arranged for the swearing-in ceremony as a symbolic gesture.

Immediately after Roslin becomes president, Adama learns that the rest of the fleet has been destroyed and he is the senior military officer left alive. This is the last of a series of disastrous military reports conveying news of the annihilation of the Colonial military forces at the hands of the Cylons. Olmos continues to underplay Adama's reactions. Dualla is holding back tears as she gives the last transmission to Adama. He reads it, conveys the news to the crew, announces that he is now in command of Colonial forces, and then carries on with little discernable change in manner. Adama's voice is not quite, but almost a monotone, and it works to great effect in this scene.

Adama and Roslin, formerly low on the totem pole, are now in charge.

Each pursues their own priorities until their ships converge at Ragnar Anchorage, where they meet again, and come into conflict over the next move. Adama, a military man, wants to stand and fight, and Roslin, as a civic leader, wants to secure the lives of the remaining citizens.

The meeting is fascinating. It is noteworthy for its banality in the middle of Armaggedon. Roslin sits at a desk on Galactica listening to a report from Billy on problems in the fleet. Adama steps in, Billy stands up to leave, and Roslin tells him to sit down and asks Adama to wait (a nice little power play). Adama sits down quietly, crosses his legs, folds his hands in his lap, and acts as if this is a normal business meeting. In his turn, he calls her "Ms. Roslin" and not "Madame President," (a small subversive action, although expressed civilly). Even the following conversation, although heated, is well within the norms of polite behavior. In fact, the entire scene is prosaic despite the enormous stakes and the passion behind each character's words.

Roslin's statements are powerful ("The war is over, we lost." And "If we are going to survive as a race we'd better start having babies."), and the audience is on her side. The tension is whether, when and how Adama's priority of continuing to fight the Cylons will switch to Roslin's goal of running with the survivors under Galactica's protection.

In the end, Roslin wins out when Adama looks across the CIC to see two young people flirting and echoes her line: "They'd better start having babies." In one of the great comebacks in television history Tigh asks, "Is that an order?"At that point, Roslin's and Adama's separate paths meet and they start to move forward with one goal in mind - to save the remaining population and find a new home.