It was obvious there was and is and never will be a way to cater to all fans.
It is impossible if there are only two fans in the whole wide world which have only read the books. Or if there a many of them, all with different first contacts with Geralt and his story, and different backgrounds. A German fan has a different approach to many of the stories compared to for example an American one, because he had heard the fairy tales, which Sapkowski wove into his stories, reinterpreted. Just an example.
So obviously that was something Netflix had in mind and it seemed they cared about it. I would have preferred a different decision (sticking closer to the books), but I see why they did what they did and I think it's the right decision.
They also decided to sway in the minor and sometimes bigger details, sticking to the red line of each story and weaving a new telling around it. It reminds me a little of Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology", where he admits that his retelling is deviating from the source in some points, because he is re-telling the stories, not copying them. And that's a good thing. Yes, we might not see some moments of dialogues in Netflix's version, but imagine them as someone telling you Geralt's story as you sit around a camp fire. You don't care about every little detail, you want to hear the story of Geralt and Ciri and how they faced down their destiny. You want a good time and you'll have it.
Yes, some people may be hurt that they experienced a story that wasn't exactly what they expected. Maybe they are not sold on the cast, maybe they hate that there were more than one nude illusion girl in Stregobor's tower or that Geralt didn't cut someone in two in Blaviken. And that's okay. The Witcher fans are a passionate bunch coming from many different directions. Let's give this retelling of our favorite story a chance. It deserves one.
I haven't seen the full season yet, so I'll probably add something to this comment later on.
Important note: If I sound joking, ironic, or condescending, I apologise in advance if my words hit you. I have a sharp tongue and usually joke about things, including myself. For example, I came up with the nude girl example in the last paragraph, because some part of me like the book's version with one girl better, so I was joking about myself more than any of you readers :sweat_smile: Thanks for reading!
I've recently re-read the short stories for the forth (or so) time and played two out of the three main games, so I cannot not compare the different interpretations of The Witcher. But I won't spoil anything beyond the first episode and it's all tagged.
First of all: It was obvious there was and is and never will be a way to cater to all fans. It is impossible if there are only two fans in the whole wide world which have only read the books. Or if there a many of them, all with different first contacts with Geralt and his story, and different backgrounds. A German fan has a different approach to many of the stories compared to for example an American one, because he had heard the fairy tales, which Sapkowski wove into his stories, reinterpreted. Just an example.
So obviously that was something Netflix had in mind and it seemed they cared about it. I would have preferred a different decision (sticking closer to the books), but I see why they did what they did and I think it's the right decision.
So what did they do? They chose to use different timelines to introduce Geralt and Ciri with their defining moments: "The Lesser Evil" for Geralt, which marks him as the Butcher of Blaviken, and Cintra's fall for Cirilla (Ciri), which introduces us to her possibilities and sets her on her path. It also hints at the connection between the two stories, but that's for another time.
They also decided to sway in the minor and sometimes bigger details, sticking to the red line of each story and weaving a new telling around it. It reminds me a little of Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology", where he admits that his retelling is deviating from the source in some points, because he is re-telling the stories, not copying them. And that's a good thing. Yes, we might not see some moments of dialogues in Netflix's version, but imagine them as someone telling you Geralt's story as you sit around a camp fire. You don't care about the details, if Stregobor did know Geralt beforehand or not, or if Geralt met the Alderman or his daughter. You want to hear the story of the Butcher of Blaviken, how he had to face this dilemma. It doesn't matter if Renfri and the witcher f*cked (Do I need to censor this word here?) in a room or a forest. You want a good time and you'll have it.
And we had it. It was a great first episode, telling two very interesting stories, defining characters, setting up the story. Compared to so many other first episodes of shows, this was a great one. And comparing it to other great first episodes, it doesn't loose either.
Yes, some people may be hurt that they experienced a story that wasn't exactly what they expected. Maybe they are not sold on the cast, maybe they hate that there were more than one nude illusion girl in Stregobor's tower or that Geralt didn't cut someone in two. And that's okay. The Witcher fans are a passionate bunch coming from many different directions. Let's give this retelling of our favorite story a chance. It deserves one.
[8.1/10] For the entirety of this season, Kim Wexler, and the audience, have been waiting for Jimmy McGill to genuinely deal with his brother’s death, to confront it in some way, rather than moving on as though nothing happened. From the season premiere, where he brushed off Howard’s tortured confession with a happy air, to last week’s raging out, we’ve seen Jimmy sublimate his feelings about Chuck and his brother’s death. We’ve seen him repress them, run from them, and act out because of them, but never really face them head on.
Those feelings are at the core of “Winner”, the finale of Better Call Saul’s fourth season. The latest scheme from Kim and Jimmy requires Jimmy to cry crocodile tears at Chuck’s grave on the anniversary of his death, to get earnestly involved in the scholarship grants made in Chuck’s name, to loudly but “anonymously” throw a party for the dedication of the Chuck McGill memorial law library and seem too broken up to enjoy it. It’s all a big show, to attract as many members of the local bar as possible, in the hopes that word will get back to the committee judging his appeal for reinstatement as a lawyer.
It is an effort to put on grief, wear it like a mask, for self-serving purposes. The knock on Jimmy, the thing that held him back in his first hearing, was a lack of remorse or concerning or mournfulness about his brother. So he and Kim send every signal imaginable to the legal community, in lugubrious tones, that Jimmy is a broken man still shaken up by his brother’s passing, only withholding mention of Chuck because the memory is too painful to bear.
As usual, it’s a good plan! It’s hard to know for sure whether the signs of Jimmy’s faux grief make it back to the review board, but they at least seem to be effective on his immediate prey. And Kim is there by his side, shooting down his more outlandish ideas, workshopping his speech to the committee, and helping her partner mislead people in the hopes of regaining something that was taken away from him.
But the key to it all working is Jimmy’s speech to the review board. He goes in with a plan to recite Chuck’s letter to him. Jimmy wants to let his brother’s eloquence and feeling carry the day so that he doesn't have to put on that mask of true feeling and seem insincere. But he departs from the script. He improvises. He offers what sounds like an honest assessment of his relationship with his brother, the reasons why he became a lawyer, the difficulty of gaining Chuck’s approval, the truths about Chuck’s demeanor and the hardships their sibling relationship faced at times.
The the impact of those words is heightened by the karaoke cold open that shows Jimmy as needling but caring, Chuck as condescending but proud, and the two of them as loving siblings. It clearly moves the review board. It causes Kim to wipe away a tear. And you’d have to be made of stone to sit in the audience and not feel something as Jimmy offers what sounds like a heartfelt and honest eulogy for his brother and their relationship.
But it’s a canard, a put-on, a lie. It is an echo of similar faux-sentimental assessments from Chuck, and once again, I almost believed it. Jimmy revels in having put one over on the review board. His cravenness about tugging their heartstrings astounds Kim, underlining her worst fears about the man she loves. After tearfully echoing the passage from his brother’s letter, about his pride in sharing the name McGill, Jimmy asks for a “doing business as” form to practice under a pseudonym instead. Saul Goodman, scruple-free lawyer to the seedy underbelly of Albuquerque, is born out of the ashes of his brother’s life and name.
There was no truth in Jimmy’s seemingly sincere pronouncements. There was no outpouring of grief or real feeling in that confessional moment, or if there was, it was anesthetized and calibrated to be used for dishonest purposes. For ten episodes, we’ve been waiting for Jimmy to acknowledge what his brother meant to him in some genuine way, and instead, he gives us, the review board, and most notably Kim, what turns out to be just another performance.
It is, in a strange way, a negative image of how Mike behaves in this episode. When he speaks to Gus about Werner’s disappearance, he seeks mercy on his friend’s behalf, trying to avoid a mortal response from his employer. He pleads caution, forgiveness, the possibility of correction. But when he speaks to Werner himself, he’s colder, angrier, more taciturn and practical in the way we’ve come to expect as the default for Mr. Ehrmantraut. He too has a divide between the face he presents in his profession and the one he presents to his erstwhile friend.
But at least “Winner” gives us some good cat-and-mousing in that effort. For all the heady material in Better Call Saul, it’s hard not to enjoy the petty thrills of detective work and chases gone wrong all the more. Seeing Mike pose as a concerned brother in law, and piece together where Werner’s likely to be is an absolute treat. And the way he manages to loses Lalo Salamanca -- with a gum in the ticket machine ploy -- is a lot of fun.
Lalo himself, though, really drags this portion of the episode down. He’s a little too cartoony of an antagonist on a heightened but still down-to-earth show. The fact that he crawls through the ceiling like he’s freaking Spider-Man was patently ridiculous. And his single-minded pursuit of Mike and ability to ferret details out just as well veered too far into the realm of contrivance. I appreciate the promise of greater friction to come between Gus and Mike’s operation and the Salamancas, but the bulk of Lalo’s business in this one was unnecessary, and kept Nacho, who’s been underserved in general this season, on the sidelines.
Still, it leads to a tragic, moving, heartfelt scene between Mike and Werner where what needs to be done is done. Between Werner’s naive requests to see his wife, Mike’s matter of fact resignation about what needs to happen, and Werner’s slow realization of the position he’s in all unspools slowly and painfully.
The upshot of it is simple though. Mike found a friend, and he has to kill him. There’s sadness in Mike’s eyes, evident beneath the anger that it came to this. There’s pain in Werner’s, and for yours truly, when Werner tells Mike that he thought his little escapade would result only in frustration but ultimately forgiveness and understanding from Mike, because they’re friends.
There’s not room for friends in this line of work, at least not under Gus Fring. Ultimately, it’s not up to Mike, and underneath the stars of New Mexico, at a distance, with a spark and a silhouette, we see him have to end the life of someone he’d rather let go, because it’s his job. Werner is the first man that Mike kills for Gus, but he won’t be the last. And it all starts with a man who made one mistake, that can’t be forgiven, because the powers that be would never allow it.
That’s what ties Mike’s portion of the episode to Jimmy’s. Jimmy delivers what is basically the Saul Goodman Manifesto to a young woman who was denied one of the Chuck McGill scholarships since she was caught shoplifting. He tells her that chances at respectability like that scholarship are false promises, dangled in front of lesser-thans to convince them they have a shot when they were judged harshly before they even stepped in the door. The system is stacked against you. The rules are to their benefit. So don’t abide by them. Make your success without them. Do what you have to do. Rub their nose in your success rather letting yourself be cowed by something unfair and biased against you. The world will try to define you by one mistake, but fight back and don’t let them win.
That’s a comforting worldview, one that lets the viewer off the hook to some degree. We want to like Jimmy. He’s affable. He’s fun. He’s good at what he does. It’s easy to buy in Jimmy’s own sublimated self-assessment -- that the white shoed system is unwilling to overlook less credentialed but hard-working individuals who’ve had missteps but overcome them, so he has to fight dirty. It’s tempting to buy into that narrative -- that the people with the power aren’t playing fair, so why should he? Why shouldn’t scratch, claw, fight, and cut corners along the way to getting what he deserves?
But the truth is that “the system” hasn’t done much to keep Jimmy down. Howard Hamlin wanted to give him a job after he became a lawyer. Davis & Main gave him every opportunity to succeed. Even the disciplinary committee is not unreasonable in questioning Jimmy’s penitence when he offers no remorse for the person he hurt with his scheme. Jimmy’s made plenty of his own mistakes, but it’s not “them” trying to hold Jimmy McGill down; it’s “him.”
That’s the trick of this season finale. Despite all the put-ons and subterfuge, Jimmy does genuinely reckon with the death of his brother, he just does it in the guise of unseen forces set against him rather than a cold body in the cold ground. It’s Chuck who tried to keep Jimmy from being on the same level as him. It’s Chuck who instigated the disciplinary proceedings that continue to be a thorn in Jimmy’s side. It’s Chuck who judged his younger sibling solely on his mistakes, who overlooked his hustle, who saw those missteps as all that Jimmy was or could be. When Jimmy rails against the system that he sees as holding him down, when he uses that as an excuse to color outside the lines, he’s really railing against the brother, and his feelings of anger and pain and grievance, that no longer have a living object of blame to sustain them.
Because Jimmy has to be the winner. If Jimmy is denied his reinstatement, if a young woman with a checkered past but a bright future can’t earn a scholarship in his brother’s name, if it’s ultimately judged that someone like Jimmy isn’t allowed to be in the profession of someone like Chuck, then it means that Chuck won, and Jimmy can’t bear that.
Despite the loss of his sibling, we only see Jimmy truly cry once this season. It’s not in front of the review board. It’s not in a quiet moment with Kim. It’s in his car, by himself, when the engine won’t start, when he feels stymied, when it seems like the forces Chuck set in motion will pull him under for good, cosmically confirming his brother’s harsh assessment of him.
There is grief in Jimmy McGill, pain caused by a severe loss. But that loss didn’t happen when Chuck died. It happened when Chuck broke his heart, turned him away, told him that he didn’t matter. As with others on T.V. this year, death didn’t mean the loss of a confidante for Jimmy; it meant the end of the possibility of approval, of pride, of the sort of family relationship Jimmy had always wanted and thought he might one day gain.
There is truth in those tears behind the wheel of an off-color sedan, a mourning in private to contrast with the show he puts on in public. And Saul Goodman -- the real Saul Goodman -- is born. Because if Jimmy couldn’t earn his brother’s love, then at least he can win, he can try to become what Chuck never thought he would, reach heights his brother never reached, no matter what lies he has to tell, what corners he has to cut, or who he has to hurt or deceive to get there. That’s Jimmy’s truth now; that’s his response to his Chuck’s death, and that’s the force that moves him from the decency and concern of the man we meet at the beginning Better Call Saul to the amoral, win-at-all-costs mentality that comes with the new name that distinguishes him from his brother.
[9.5/10] At some point, I am going to stop being surprised by Rick and Morty’s brilliance and just expect it, but the show is still at that point where I suspect it’ll be good every week, but it still manages to blow me away each new turn it takes.
I take “The Ricklantis Mixup” to be Season 3’s answer to the improv episodes from the prior two seasons -- a change of pace that allows Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland to play around in their amazing sandbox of a universe for a bit without feeling the need to develop or advance their main character. In that, they give us an episode that doesn’t have Rick or Morty or any of the other main characters, and yet has all the Ricks and Morties, in glorious, The Wire-esque splendor.
And The Wire really has to be the touchstone for an episode like this. Where else are you going to find something that addresses the challenges of cops and criminals, the rise of an charismatic and unexpected leader, the frustrations of blue collar working who feels like the system is holding him down, and the difficulties of four schoolchildren to make their way in that world. Hell, throw in a Hamsterdam, and you have all five seasons of that superlative show, filtered through Harman and Roiland’s dueling deranged perspectives and deposited into one twenty-two minute chunk. That’s an amazing achievement, the sort of praise I feel like I’m throwing out all too often for this show, but it keeps earning it.
The episode can roughly be broken up into those four stories, but what makes the episode more than just the sum of its parts (and what earns its Wire comparisons) is how interconnected those stories are, both literally, since they’re connected by the Citadel are all affected by the ecosystem that’s developed after our Rick destroyed the place, but also thematically, in the way each protagonist of each story looks at a bad situation and wants change, and gets it, but gets something unsatisfying or unpleasant or worse than they bargained for out of the process, with plenty of dead bodies floating among the garbage and blasted out the airlock.
That’s clearest for Candidate Morty, trying to win the presidency of The Citadel on behalf of The Morty Party. There’s something aspirational, almost West Wing-esque about Candidate Morty, as he gives soaring, Obama-esque speeches about dissolving the lines of division between Ricks and Morties and make The Citadel something better for all. That makes it seem particularly terrible when his former campaign manager, another Morty, tries to assassinate him. The move turns out to be all for naught since Candidate Morty survives and becomes President, in something that seems like a chance to turn around this mixed up place.
Instead, it’s revealed that Candidate Morty is the evil, eye patch-wearing Morty we met back in Season 1. It’s the perfect, knife-turning twist for the episode -- a reveal that the Carcetti-esque beacon of hope for a city in turmoil is a guy running on unifying rhetoric to pursue his own Carcetti-esque ambitions (well, maybe a touch more intergalactically evil than Carcetti’s). All of that hope, all of the communal joining together and believing that things can change just puts a tyrant into power, and holy hell is that one of the darkest things an already dark show has put forward.
Then there’s Factory Worker Rick, who seems older and more haried even by Rick standards, gazing out of subway cars, seeing wealthier and cooler Ricks succeed ahead of him, and sighing. He works at a factory that makes wafers out of the satisfaction an old fashioned “Simple Rick” enjoys when reliving the experience of spending time with his daughter (a subtly revealing bit in and of itself).
Things hit the fan when he goes postal, killing his boss and co-workers, and getting into a hostage standoff with the police. There too, the show capture a certain backbreaking ennui to this place, that even (and maybe especially) a locale populated by geniuses leads to this sort of dissatisfaction, disaffection, and anomie. And this story has just as cynical an ending, with Factory Worker Rick believing he’s won, only for the Wonka-esque Rick who runs the factory to capture him and use that feeling of freedom and satisfaction to fuel his new deluxe wafers. I mean, my god, if that is not the peak of devastating, existential irony on this show, I don’t know what is.
There’s also Rookie Cop Rick, who’s paired with Grizzled Cop Morty. More than the other stories, this one feels like it’s riffing on a sea of tropes ripped right out of the Training Day playbook. There’s plenty of political and social commentary baked in through how even Grizzled Cop Morty looks down on his fellow Morties as “animals” or how Rookie Cop Rick tries to give himself up to his brethren for the difficult choices he’s made and gets let off the hook. But it has less impact since it feels like more of those tropes played straight (or at least, as straight as can be possible given the insane circumstances) than something truly new and subversive.
Still, this is the part of the episode where the show gains strength from the crazy details of the world it’s constructed at The Citadel. The entire concept of a wild Morty club where Morty’s dress up in costumes, dance for one another, and use bad math, or of a series of news anchors from the same hierarchy of subuniverses, each of whom has it worst than the next, or just the concept of Morties who’ve been turned into lizards and Ricks adopting rural affections is bizarre and hilarious and head-scratching in the best ways.
That comes through in the episode’s final story, which sees a quartet of young Morties, soon to be assigned to a new quartet of Ricks, go out in search of a fabled “wish portal” that could change their lives. The sorriest among them is Cool Morty, who has an experimental drama chip that allows him to make things “sad and a little boring,” and who’s been through Rick after Rick. Here too, there is that sense of existential dread, of things never changing, the permeates the proceedings. Cool Morty’s suicide is unexpected and lives up to the sadness his experimental chip portends, but it’s made worse that the supposed change his dive into this sci-fi wishing well effected is the hollow one President Morty offered.
That’s the rub of this one. Even in this fantastical world of brilliant scientists and their boy sidekicks, there is a kaleidoscope of pain and false promises that stretch through everything. All the geniuses, all the good-natured moppets in the world can’t change that when thrown together into their own dysfunctional society. That Rick and Morty has the chutzpah to explore that society for an episode, and to deliver that message, just speaks to the boldness and off-kilter storytelling we’ve come to expect, and to make it all as funny as it is quietly devastating, is a near-miracle. Rick and Morty keeps delivering them on a regular basis.
[7.3/10] This was a bit of an odd episode in that there wasn’t really much of a story to it. It’s half-essay, and half-explanation for the plot of the show’s latest repilot. I’m not complaining exactly. There were some good laughs and good insights and a lot of promise for what’s to come, but it wasn’t an episode of television so much as it was a visual instruction manual for what we’ve learned and what’s to come.
That said, I found the show’s conclusions pretty interesting. I like Michael’s thesis that the world is too complicated for humans to be good under the current point system, and Jason’s unexpectedly effective metaphor of people with too many understandable and sympathetic responsibilities letting some things slip. The Judge visiting Earth for a hot minute was a nice conceit for some more observations and a change of heart, and I like Chidi using himself as a living example for why “doing the research” isn’t a solution to the problem either. The show mostly talks about it rather than showing it, but does a good job of accounting for why there is a problem that needs to be addressed.
I’m also intrigued by the solution of taking four new humans to a new hybrid neighborhood and seeing if they improve morally away from the complications of Earth. It works more as a way to wring some more mileage out of the show’s premise with another wild situation (i.e. as a T.V. plot) than a legitimate moral experiment, but I also like it as (an admittedly oversimplified) way for Michael to try to prove his point. The details of how the new neighborhood will be built and how it will be populated make for some nice Michael vs. Sean interactions and great Janet moments, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little rousing to see the old neighborhood (or at least its design) back again.
But I particularly liked the one thing in the episode which does resemble a story: Jason reciprocating his feelings for Janet but then getting jealous of a many-times-restarted Derek. Jason Mantzoukas continues to be great, and between his not-quite suave speech and martini glass full of increasingly silly things, he definitely brought the laughs.
Aside from the over-explain-y and talkiness of the episode, my one other complaint is that the special effects on the show were really shoddy. I know that effects aren’t the point of a show like The Good Place, but the IHOP in particular felt like a high school video with a green screen and mid-90s screensaver. It was bad enough to be distracting from the meat of the show.
Overall, this episode is more table-setting than storytelling, but it sets up the central issue nicely and portends interesting things to come.
So I finished Part One and had a few hours to think about it. The show is definitely interesting. It’s not perfect but I see it setting-up to something bigger in Part Two. The first few episode are a bit off, not horrible or unwatchable but, does have some questionable pacing, lack of music, and some of the more direct jokes aren’t as funny as I would like them. A lot of the “good” jokes seem to be sprinkled in the background or hidden inside of other dialog, I wouldn’t be surprised picking-up on new jokes on a second re-watch. That said episodes 1-5 would be a 5-6/10. Normally a weaker opening to a series would lean me more towards dropping, however...
The reason I say the show is interesting is that the trailer and promo material advertises the show as a comedy first with some adventure on the side, however, it’s very much a slice of life series with hints of adventure down the line in Part Two. I wasn’t expecting this and I actually like this angle more. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if Part Two was exclusively adventure focused. Most of the episodes in Part One are about the daily life of the disobedient princess and falling into situations, all the while adding a LOT of world building. Part One seems very focused on familiarizing you with the world, people, concepts, etc... While this is taking place we get short cutaways to an unknown group of wizards/sorceress monitoring the situation in Dreamland, the main location in Part One, suggesting something bigger going on.
I wont spoil anything at the end of Part One but the world building and hints towards a grandeur story definitely make this series interesting and I want to learn more. Obviously these are just promises for the moment but the care put into the world and the slower pace at the start to familiarize the characters gives me hope that this series will offer more. For now it’s a 6/10, good but until we see the rest I wouldn’t put much into the rating.
Also the 2D animation is very good. CGI blending is better than most shows and a surprising amount of the scenes have a lot of animation in areas you wouldn't expect it. Casual walks in the city treat you to scenes with plenty of bystanders moving and interacting with each others in 2D (some are 3D). Lots of other shows would offer stills & pans so this gives this show's world a lot of life.
The setting is contemporary, judging by the automobiles, but the ambience is decidedly 1950's era spy film noir. As for genre, I'm forced to call Counterpart science fiction, in that it involves parallel universes, but it's really like nothing else within that genre.
The general scenario is this: 30 years ago, for reasons unknown, reality split into two bifurcating, independent time lines. Until that point, all was unified, meaning that every character alive at that point shared identical histories. Now, things have begun to diverge. But there is a doorway between the universes in a building in Berlin.
Again, for reasons unknown, the two sides have been both communicating with, and spying on, one another through this doorway, and this is where our protagonist Howard Silk (J.K. Simmons) comes in. "Our" Howard is a low level functionary in this spy agency who hasn't a clue as to what is really going on until, one day, his counterpart arrives with news that a woman from "their" side has been sent over to assassinate people on "our" side, including Howard's comatose wife. No one knows why, which is the prevailing state of awareness in this decidedly curious story. "Other" Howard decides that "our" Howard is critical to his investigation and, thus, the strange alliance begins.
J.K. Simmons is a phenomenal actor, despite often being cast in secondary roles, and Counterpart is truly his opportunity to shine. He plays a single character, but one with two separate backgrounds despite shared childhoods, a role requiring some subtlety and nuance. He plays both characters to perfection as the similarities and differences between the two create something of a broader character that calls into question our notions of identity.
In a way, Counterpart is an examination of the concept of self, or soul, but it is also an engaging mystery/thriller. Like its main character, the sum is both greater than, and equal to, its parts.
This is 'Primer' for dummies.
The movie frustrated me from time to time because of massive plot holes and bad writing. The idea is challenging, and complex enough to have fun with, and not too complex to get lost in. However too many things did not add up.
For such smart kids they sure were reckless and rushed everything as if they were for the first time in a chemistry class. Every guy who has even the slightest idea of timetravel knows that messing with stuff in the past is going to get you in trouble (butterfly effect) and if you are going to do something you have to plan it out carefully.
There are also multiple occasions when they travel back in time for a 2nd time to the same time and place, but do not meet their 'earlier' time traveling selfs there. This was especially awkward with the kiss scene. Arguably the most important scene of the movie. Even if the device somehow canceled out earlier jumps to the same time, they didn't have to interfere but just had to jump and wait.
For the story it might have been much more interesting if they didn't focus so much on the main actor during the final act of the movie and prevent such a boring cliched ending.
There is more, but lets leave it with this
There is 1 interesting detail in the ending though; the papers David throws in the garbage bin after the talk with his father date 2025. I wonder what that implies....
Still, there are way worse movies out there.
Edit: there is another thing I really liked about the movie btw. It used a track by Mark Sixma. :D
Watching order
Because there are some issues with watching this, here is the order.
Copying from the site in case it ever goes down, but this info came from here: http://thunderpeel2001.blogspot.com/2010/02/battlestar-galactica-viewing-order.html
It's probably more confusing here on trakt, so go to the above linked site for a better layout.
The Miniseries
Night 1
Night 2
Season 1
1.01 33
1.02 Water
1.03 Bastille Day
1.04 Act of Contrition
1.05 You Can't Go Home Again
1.06 Litmus
1.07 Six Degrees of Separation
1.08 Flesh and Bone
1.09 Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down
1.10 The Hand of God
1.11 Colonial Day
1.12 Kobol's Last Gleaming, Part I
1.13 Kobol's Last Gleaming, Part II
Season 2
2.01 Scattered
2.02 Valley of Darkness
2.03 Fragged
2.04 Resistance
2.05 The Farm
2.06 Home, Part I
2.07 Home, Part II
2.08 Final Cut
2.09 Flight of the Phoenix
2.10 Pegasus (56 minute extended version)
2.11 Resurrection Ship, Part I
2.12 Resurrection Ship, Part II
2.13 Epiphanies
2.14 Black Market
2.15 Scar
2.16 Sacrifice
2.17 The Captain's Hand
Razor (101 minute extended version - not the 81 minute broadcast version)
Important note: This was originally broadcast just before Season 4, but chronologically it fits here, telling more of the Pegasus's story. Some people argue it's better to watch after Season 3, as originally broadcast, but it makes most sense to watch it here.
The reason that the placement of Razor is a hotly contested issue among BSG fans is because of a bit of dialogue at the very end (in the last 10 minutes) which sets the tone for Season 4 (barely even a spoiler). Everything else in this TV movie is not a spoiler.
So why place it here, and not where it was originally broadcast, if there's any sort of issue? Because, chronologically, the story is set here, and by the time you reach the end of Season 3, the story of Pegasus will feel like ancient history. Indeed, that was the complaint echoed around the internet from fans after Razor originally aired -- it had nothing to do with what was going on in the story at that time.
As a result of this, most fans agree it's better to watch Razor here. In doing so, you'll appreciate the story more and it will have greater emotionally resonance. In short: I highly recommend that you follow my advice and watch it here.
There is one small caveat, however: In order to deal with the above dialogue issue, and so not to unintentionally alter the tone of Season 3, I have two, very specific instructions that I recommend that you follow for your absolute optimum enjoyment.
I will try not to spoil anything with these instructions, so pay attention. You need to press MUTE on your TV (and/or turn off any subtitles) in the following two moments. Both of these moments occur in the last 10 minutes of the story, so you can relax and enjoy the first 90 mins before you need to worry.
Press MUTE when:
and shortly afterwards:
That's it! That's all you have to worry about. Two very small moments, and even if you don't unmute it, it's not a huge spoiler, it just unintentionally alters the tone of Season 3 if you don't, so do try your best to follow my instructions.
2.18 Downloaded
2.19 Lay Down Your Burdens, Part I
2.20 Lay Down Your Burdens, Part II
The Resistance
A 10 episode web-based series bridging seasons 2 and 3. (25 mins.)
Season 3
3.01 Occupation
3.02 Precipice
3.03 Exodus, Part I
3.04 Exodus, Part II
3.05 Collaborators
3.06 Torn
3.07 A Measure of Salvation
3.08 Hero
3.09 Unfinished Business (70 minute extended version - Note: Not included on Region 2 DVDs, but is included on ALL Bluray releases.)
3.10 The Passage
3.11 The Eye of Jupiter
3.12 Rapture
3.13 Taking a Break From All Your Worries
3.14 The Woman King
3.15 A Day in the Life
3.16 Dirty Hands
3.17 Maelstrom
3.18 The Son Also Rises
3.19 Crossroads, Part I
3.20 Crossroads, Part II
Razor: Yes, this again. (Well this is where Razor was originally broadcast, after all.) Remember the last 10 minutes where I told you to MUTE two small moments? Well, guess what, now is when you get to go back and hear what was said. Watch the last 10 minutes of Razor here.
Season 4
4.01 He That Believeth In Me
4.02 Six of One
4.03 The Ties That Bind
4.04 Escape Velocity
4.05 The Road Less Traveled
4.06 Faith
4.07 Guess What's Coming to Dinner?
4.08 Sine Qua Non
4.09 The Hub
4.10 Revelations
Season 4 Continued (aka "Season 4.5" or "The Final Season")
4.11 Sometimes a Great Notion
The Face of the Enemy
A 10 episode web-based series (although it plays together like an intense mini-episode). (36 mins.)
4.12 A Disquiet Follows My Soul (53 minute extended version - only on Bluray releases)
4.13 The Oath
4.14 Blood on the Scales
4.15 No Exit
The Plan (DVD/Bluray movie)
A stand-alone movie that shows (approximately) the first two seasons from the Cylons' perspective. (You finally get to see "The Plan", mentioned all those times in the opening sequence!) Although The Plan was originally released after the show had finished, it is generally agreed that it should be watched here, so that everything is all tied up when you do reach the end.
4.16 Deadlock
4.17 Someone to Watch Over Me
4.18 Islanded In a Stream of Stars (62 minute extended version - only on BluRay releases and Region 1 DVDs)
4.19 Daybreak (150 minute extended version - only on BluRay releases and Region 1 DVDs)
The Plan : This is where this DVD/Bluray movie was originally released (after the show had finished). It seems universally agreed that it's preferable to watch this after No Exit, instead of after you've finished the entire series, but there's no harm in waiting until now.
Then Caprica the series: http://trakt.tv/show/caprica
