Dark Visions of Future make Present seem Better, Somehow

I’m a terrible Johnny come lately to the new Battlestar Galactica, but a friend just leant me seasons 1, 2 and 2.5 and I’m teetering on the edge of compulsion, drawing out my viewing sessions, careful not to OD on too many in one sitting, eke-ing out my stash in doses and making it last. Wicked timely at points in its imagining of politics, paranoia and military tribunals, the series is adult and intelligent, making all those grand, episodic shows on the four big networks look pretty dum-dum by comparison. In addition to some serious gravitas and great space-fu the show is populated by some very randy foxes, male, female and robot.

The female Cylon is hands down the nuclear epicenter of sexual heat on the show, but there’s plenty of interesting fin du monde-style sexual energy to keep things interesting. Much has been made over Jamie Bamber but I find him a little plucked tweezed and prissy-voiced, sounding like your waiter at Cafeteria. (When the clothes come off some masculinity comes through, though-it might be a self-consciouly stylized gym body, but it’s got legitimate meaty heft.)

Aaron Douglas’ Tyrol is that slightly stocky sensitive dreamboat, very otter. I’ll take the interestingly named Tahmoh Penikett as Helo, all tall and broad shouldered with vivid eyes that make you a little nervous and excited. And Grace Park’s smoldering Boomer gets to hit the skins with both of them. Good times at the end of the world.

In other sci-fi escapist news J.J. Abrams taking on the Star Trek franchise is promising, and the rumored casting of Matt Damon as James T. Kirk sounds right. Fox Searchlght has puched pushed Danny Boyle’s Sunshine back again, from summer to a December release, which is concerning. A new round of trailers describe more of an in-space thriller than one would have guessed at first. My feeling is: how bad can it be?