The (spectacular) Ends

Endings can be hard.

Pulling the audience in with a snappy idea can be relatively straightforward - we at the PPCC usually rely on some scatological goodness to draw the reader's eye (POOP) - but letting them go in a satisfying, glorious, sunsetty way is hard.

So what makes a good ending (apart from the sunset)? We think it has to satisfy certain criteria:

• The payoff. This is the MUST of any skilful ending: presumably the story has been building to some sort of conclusion and an ending can be judged by how well it serves that final, match point.
  
• The ability to make the PPCC feel a glowing sense of bittersweet finished-ness. In other words, emotional satisfaction.
  
• Music! Honestly, this is a deal-breaker. Good music has raised mediocre endings to heavenly heights, and lackluster music has muted even the most powerful of conclusions.

So here are, according to us, some of the BEST ENDINGS EVER. As is obvious, MASSIVE SPOILERS for all of these - don't bother reading further if you haven't seen some of these and you value your virginity (narratively-speaking).

1. Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge


Jaa, Simran, jaa! Is larke se zyada pyaar tujhe aur koi nahin kar sakta! / Go, Simran, go! No one could love you more than this boy!

The best ending prop that we can think of, apart from a golden sun, is a train. What better symbol of quickly-accelerating opportunity, of the LAST CHANCE for change, redemption, resolution and joy?

The Hindi classic, DDLJ, cashes in on a 3-hour courtship full of anxiety, hoodwinking and desperate hopes to show us that - yes, YES - the Pater Familias can let his daughter go. Oh my Lord.

Tissue Rating: Pretty epic.

2. Kabhie Alvida Naa Kehna


Preity Zinta forgives you. Shah Rukh Khan loves you. Now you can be happy forever!

Basically, the same deal, the only variation being that this time, parental authority isn't the main obstacle for our lovers, it's chronic misunderstanding and a bad knee. Also features a train.

Tissue rating: Embarrassingly monumental.

3. Battlestar Galactica


I will never deny my agricultural heritage again.

Many people got all huffy with the Luddite deism of the BSG series finale (and, yes, it was a bit facile), but it did - thanks to composer Bear McCreary and actor James Callis, mostly - contain one of the most epic payoffs we've recently experienced. First of all: the long-simmering romance between Admiral Adama (Edward James Olmos) and the dying President Roslin (Mary McDonnell) finally reached the climax that we had been waiting eighty episodes for. And, far more unexpectedly, a single line by Gaius Baltar (James Callis) both resolved and redefined his Odyssean journey in a completely new way for us - talk about backward revisionism! Oh, Gaius. His name means Earth? OF COURSE IT DOES.

Tissue rating: We cried through the credits, through a shower, through a change into our pyjamas and, finally, to sleep.

4. Glory


Start at 5:16.

Talk about going out in a blaze of.

Tissue rating: Huge. HUGE.

5. Goodbye, Farewell and Amen



The end-all, be-all ending from a movie dedicated to the epic conclusion of our favorite series, what can better encapsulate the impermanence of everything (especially the beautiful!) than a simple, honest exchange of love, coupled with some Zen rock gardening?

Tissue rating: If we were to be honest with ourselves, we never really got over this.

6. Insert your ending here

That's what the Comments button is for! We have this itchy feeling on the back of our tongue that we've forgotten some major ones, so please: sharing is caring.

Battlestar Galactica: Season 3, Episode 1 (2006)

Standard spoiler warning applies!

Things take a sharp left turn at the beginning of Battlestar Galactica's third season, as we jump ahead by over a year and return to the life of a pioneering human race on an inhospitable planet, New Caprica, now at the mercy of an occupying Cylon force. Beginning, as is its way, with a number of disparate plot threads - which will weave more or less harmoniously throughout this epic season premiere - it seems like the writers of BSG just suddenly decided to be Very Very Clear about what they want to talk about.

Suddenly introducing timely themes of unwanted occupations, civilian insurgency, torture and suicide bombings, the human- and Cylon-occupied planet of New Caprica is at once a recollection of American colonies, early Israel, World War II, and Iraq. Forget all that Old Testament stuff, we are now being much more relevant - uncomfortably so! Mixing and matching from our recent history, the episode demonstrates the dangers inherent in an occupation - even a well-meaning one.


The first thing we thought of.

To signify the passage of time and significant life experiences, almost all of the characters exhibit visible signs of change: the former Colonel Saul Tigh (Michael Hogan) has lost an eye, Admiral Adama (Edward James Olmos) now has a mullet and moustache (deadly combination), Kara "Starbuck" Thrace (Katee Sackhoff) has longer hair and Lee "Apollo" Adama (Jamie Bamber) has put on about ten kilos. Furthermore, in their new roles as pioneers, insurgents, oppressed people, collaborators and would-be saviors, characterizations have suddenly expanded and developed. The decent Chief Tyrol (Aaron Douglas) is a Karl Marx-like agitator for socioeconomic justice and prominent member of the insurgency, Gaius Baltar (James Callis) has devolved into a debauched and reviled collaborator, wallowing in clammy self-loathing, and our favorite Cylons - Caprica Six (Tricia Helfer) and the original Sharon (Grace Park) - are pro-human advocates from within the Cylon administration.

It is, overall, insidiously depressing and beautifully told.

It's sad because everything and everyone has changed for the worst. Suddenly, in this post-apocalyptic landscape, everyone is a well-meaning murderer and everyone is suffering. Everyone's a victim. There's a lot to be said that even the Cylon occupiers, with an allegorical vibe hovering uncomfortably between Fascist Germany and the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA), are shown to be just as terrified, incompetent and hate-filled as their human counterparts. It makes for highly provocative viewing, and seems to advance further along the difficult path of moral relativism. Is motivation or action more important? And which should be punished? How? By who? Suddenly the idea of an all-knowing, all-powerful God is comforting. It means we don't have to take the horrible responsibility of deciding what to do with those we deem "wrong" - we can let God handle it. But, since divine justice is difficult for we mortals to depend on (and, often, just plain believe in), both humans and Cylons take things into their own hands - with disastrous results.

A very alarming (and refreshingly funny) character to be introduced is Brother Cavill (the wonderful Dean Stockwell!), an older Cylon who is whimsically cynical and, seemingly, an atheist. This contrasts sharply with the misty-eyed monotheistic mysticism of the creepier Leoben (Callum Keith Rennie) Cylon model, or even the earnest devotionalism of the Six. Indeed, two Brother Cavill models - who constantly refer to God using air quotes - have a very good monologue/dialogue about their Cylon compatriot's destructive evangelism:


"Uh, we're supposed to bring the word of 'God' to the people, right?"

"To save humanity from damnation by bringing the love of 'God' to these poor, benighted people?"

BROTHER CAVILL(S): "Let's review why we're here, shall we? Uh, we're supposed to bring the word of 'God' to the people, right? To save humanity from damnation by bringing the love of 'God' to these poor, benighted people... But I want to clarify our objectives. If we're bringing the word of God, then it follows that we should employ any means necessary to do so, any means. Yes, fear is a key article of faith, as I understand it. So perhaps it's time to instill a little more fear into the people's hearts and minds."

Oh dear.

There's a very good book about the CPA in Iraq during 2003-2005-ish, Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran. It shows the destructiveness of well-meaning evangelism, especially when driven by a single-minded (here, almost exclusively Republican and pro-Bush) mentality steeped in ignorant ethnocentrism. The Cylon occupation doesn't outwardly exhibit the same monochromatic political spectrum as the Republican-heavy CPA did, but it does carry the same prosletyzing earnestness and frightening mismanagement.


Out of the gulag? Or Abu Ghraib?


Poor, destroyed and destructive Tigh.

Which brings us to the insurgents: the triumvirate of the grizzled and tortured Tigh, the heroic resistence fighter Sam Anders (Michael Trucco), and the idealistic Chief, they are at once sympathetic and repugnant. We sympathize because of their suffering, but we are horrified by their "desperate measures in desperate times" (i.e. suicide bombing). It is, ultimately, tragic - almost harrowing. Particularly Tigh, who's tenuous grip and losing battle with inner demons, lends him a terrible frailty - when you couple that with murderous rage, it's just awful. He has, unexpectedly (but as many people predicted!), become our favorite character, if only for the amount of sheer change he's undergone and the awesome complexities. Poor Tigh! Terrible Tigh! Oh my, oh my.

Battlestar Galactica: Season 2, Episode 12 (2006)

In an effort to stop binging on Battlestar Galactica and try to break up this weekend with something fresh and new, we've decided to review some... Battlestar Galactica.


Based on Da Vinci's Last Supper, we love it! Commander Adama as Simon the Zealot, Gaius Baltar as Judas and the heart-warming Cylon, Caprica Six, as Jesus?! CAN THIS SHOW BE MORE AMAZING?!

Disclaimer: Because it's really hard to review individual episodes of a TV show with a long-scope narrative arc, we'll just put a big fat spoiler warning on this review. In case you are, like us, one of the last people on this planet who hasn't seen this show. Nonetheless we'll try to be as vague as possible.

As our review of the miniseries noted, one of the main themes in BSG (yes, we're on acronym-only basis now) is the difference or non-difference between humans and their Cylon "descendants", and how pure survivalism can sometimes unveil the disturbing similarities between the two groups. All this is textured with classical myth in the form of a conflict between Greco-Roman gods (whom the humans worship) and Abrahamic monotheism (which the Cylons promote). In plainer terms, the humans are constantly faced with tough moral choices, and their behavior becomes increasingly relativist - kind of like the way Zeus et al. were so morally ambiguous. As Commander Adama (Edward James Olmos) notes, "Context matters." The Cylons, on the other hand, resemble any hard-line moral absolutist in their unambiguous belief that they are right and the humans are wrong. The ultimate absolutist and judge, God, they believe, will eventually punish the humans for their various sins - and, to help Him along, the Cylons will put an end to their race. Interestingly, there are only twelve models - matching the twelve apostles? Hmmm.

By season two, episode Resurrection Ship, a new character has been introduced - Admiral Helen Cain (Michelle Forbes). Now, considering we're steeped in a story full of Old Testament allusions, Commander Adama and his ark of survivors flying to a promised land aboard the Battlestar Galactica don't take well to this new person named Cain and her militant commando-style Battlestar Pegasus. After a near-civil war between the two battlestars over the manslaughter of a Pegasus man (long story, other episode), the two agree to unite forces to destroy a Cylon spaceship dedicated to "resurrecting" Cylon consciousnesses into new bodies. In a secondary plotline, the ever-unstable Dr. Gaius Baltar (James Callis) has been assigned the task to interrogate the Pegasus' Cylon prisoner - an unnamed woman (Tricia Helfer) who is (1) a visible victim of torture, and (2) an identical copy to Baltar's ex-girlfriend and hallucination-companion, Cylon model number six (Tricia Helfer, duh). He, understandably, empathizes, as does the audience.


Jesus and Judas - err, I mean Caprica Six and Gaius Baltar the Traitor. Love it!

Now, a lot is going on here. An intimidating amount, in fact. So we'll start with what we know:

My brain! MY BRAIN!

There's no spoiler in acknowledging that one of the Galactica's former pilots, Sharon (Grace Park), is a sleeper Cylon agent. (This is revealed in the pilot episode.) As the show progresses, her character becomes increasingly complex - she is, right now, our absolute favorite. Without giving too much away, Sharon is now a prisoner aboard the Galactica, and the rest of the humans have very mixed feelings about her. Adama, in particular, has a tendency to get a little upset. (PPCC aside, but their interactions are the best!) In one scene, an exasperated and brooding Adama calls Sharon to his room to sit her down and ask, "Why do the Cylons hate us so much?"

Her response captures the entire issue: Adama himself once noted that humanity is a "flawed creation", and that humans can still be petty, hateful, even murderous, thus provoking the question, Do they deserve to survive?

"Maybe you don't," Sharon says bluntly.

This, of course, prompts Adama to prove that damned Sharon wrong by being the best human he can be, and hence deserving of survival. He shares his insights with the crew, too. But we can't help thinking Adama (Adam?) is a very flawed creature himself - his occasional tough decisions to cut the fleet's fat are pretty traumatic. Furthermore, we can't help wondering where, exactly, he is regarding the knowledge of good and evil? His relationship with the wonderful President Laura Roslin (Mary McDonnell) - apart from being sweetly romantic - often takes the hint of the seemingly pure and maternal Laura showing the gruff Adama just how much more hardcore she is than him. (No apples to appear, yet.)


Can we love these two even more? The answer is no. They are our peanut butter and jelly. They are our Saturday morning and Super Mario Bros. Can we just have an episode about how much they love each other? Please?!

The pageantry of science fiction

This show has made us cry a number of times now, often because of the beauty with which it presents the dystopian crises and interstellar battles. The lovely aesthetics are aided by atmospheric and interesting music by Bear McCreary, the show's composer. Often McCreary's music feels like a mix of minimalist Philip Glass (in one episode, one of Glass's piano pieces is heard) and the evocative Tan Dun (composer for films like Hero and House of Flying Daggers). In the episodes surrounding the Resurrection Ship, the Cylon warships are sometimes introduced with music resembling the chanting of Tibetan Buddhist monks. In some ways, it's reminiscent of the Tibetan long horns heard in War of the Worlds.

One scene, in particular, captures the grand-scale myth-making imagery found in the series. Ace pilot Lee Adama (Jamie Bamber) has ejected from his fighter, and he floats peacefully through space - the battle before him is spread silent and distant, and we take a moment to watch it with him, and to marvel at the tragedy. It's a lovely piece of filmmaking!


Captain Apollo watches the destruction as he floats through space.

And the moral of the story is...

...no idea!

This is what we consider to be the genius of Battlestar Galactica: it is so ambiguous. Because we empathize and follow the storylines of a large ensemble of flawed characters, we can only watch the terrible things happen and lament at the iron-clad rules of cause and effect. Ideas such as free will feel deeply unstable when characters are often at the mercy of their own ignorance and heated emotions (ah, how Buddhist). And often we're faced with the "most pure" characters - Laura Roslin, Lee Adama - making decisions which force us to redefine purity so we can keep shoe-horning them in.

Similarly, the Cylons are progressively more and more humanized - such that, by this episode, it is unclear just how "morally correct" the humans really are in the war. Is it wrong that we love the Cylons too?!

So maybe the moral of the story is just that: Shit is complicated.