Various and sundry
I have taken a day to absorb the bad news, and I think the timing of the SG-1 cancellation announcement on the heels of the wave of squee and love from "200" (and announcing to the cast and crew before their celebration) was crappy, but if this person knows what they're talking about at all, they're filming episode 17 right now and will have time to do rewrites on the last three. So. If they get a chance to do a series finale, instead of a season finale with a perpetual cliffhanger, that might reconcile me to the crappy timing of the public announcement at least.
I never thought I'd get this attached to Stargate. On the one hand, the old episodes are popcorn, something I regard with a great deal of tolerant affection. On the other, the casting of Claudia Black as a regular something happened between the end of last season and the beginning of this one. I got enthusiastic. And then the show went and had a run of greatly entertaining episodes full of wonderful character moments, and the new team gelled and all the characters were really sparking with one another, and it seemed like the writers had more stories to tell, after treading familiar ground for so long.
The show had a long run. Even though I knew ratings for this season were in real trouble, there was a part of me that felt like Stargate had been on the air since dinosaurs walked the Earth, and would continue until the sun goes supernova. I'm sorry for everyone who's losing a job, but none more so than Ben Browder and Claudia Black, because it's happening again for them, and I'll admit I'm not being entirely altruistic--it was a treat to have both of them on my television screen for a new episode every week, one that I will continue to enjoy for the next fourteen episodes, and I wish we could have had them for longer.
I'd love to be optimistic about the producers finding other venues for the show, and MGM does have a financial incentive to try--they benefit from an economy of scale by running both productions together--but I'm not, because as annoyed as I might be at SciFi over the timing and the lack of promotion and the breaking up of the SciFi Friday block that is at least partially, in my opinion, responsible for the ratings slump, it's a ten year old show that's expensive to make and won't be looked on as having growth potential. Anyway, rydra_wong has some useful advice for people wondering what they can do, from the perspective of a battle-scarred Farscape fan.
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I am continuing to really enjoy this show. The running gag on Sam reciting the wrong--whatever the UK equivalent of a Miranda warning is--is both funny (even the arrestees get impatient with him) and a nice reminder that he's still adjusting to a different time. The ways Sam and Hunt are circling each other, moving closer together in some areas, coming to some basic agreements, is just fascinating. Sam isn't just a professional, he's also motivated by a strong sense of justice, especially for the downtrodden and powerless (who are disproportionately women in 1973); so he can't take the crime boss's money, and he can't turn Joanie down, even though she's obviously out to entrap him. Hunt's interested in order, not justice, so he's been maintaining this balancing act with the local thugs to keep the violence down, and not inquiring too closely into how they do it. Hunt is all ends, Sam is all means. So it's both surprising and makes perfect sense that Hunt sees a little of his younger, more idealistic self in Sam--it explains both why he reacted so violently to Sam in the first place and why he went to bat for him with the crime boss, because Sam isn't just like he used to be, but is now one of his own, part of his tribe. But Hunt isn't the only one bending; Sam is willing to not only go with Hunt but actively participate in leaning on the thug to bring evidence against the crime boss, to concentrate on the ends if they suit his sense of justice.
I am really enjoying Dead Like Me, which seems to be building to better and better things with each episode.
Things I love, in no particular order:
* Rube, in general. His mannerisms puzzled me at first, but I've slowly come to realize that they're a product of his age, of the way his views on people and relationships were shaped in a different time and evolved on the wrong side of death. I also like the fact that he doesn't coddle George at all, because brutal honesty from him feels like respect.
* Mason is... it's a really good thing he's so pretty, because he does some foolish things. But he also hangs out with a lonely and cantankerous old lady, laughs at her stories, shows her genuine attention while he pumps her for information on the location of her valuables, kids her along as they conspire to sign over her SS checks to him, buries her under a tree when she worries that no one will find her body. That makes up for an awful lot of stone-cold stupid smuggling of drugs in a condom up his ass.
* The way George's mother is trying and failing to reach out to Reggie, and George's wisdom, acquired too late, driving her to try to mend the rift between the people she left behind.
* George's workplace, and in particular Dolores. So horrific. The scrapbooking club, the webcam, the awful, awful office politics.
* The improbable and sometimes incredibly elaborate death scenarios, the general absurdity of so many people's ends, and the things that keep them around--like A. Cook wanting to pass along to Rube his recipes and his experience of being on the other side of the counter, dealing with customer complaints.
* The fact that George is sometimes so lonely, and so very, very young, and trying to connect with other people when you're on your own for the first time is hard enough when you're not dead. And the fact that she's starting to try, to see the value in it, instead of shutting the world out.
* * * * *
Work is kicking my ass this week. This is the part of the release where unplanned surprise features turn up in the software and must be folded into the plan. At least they feed us when we stay after 7. Of course, they feed us the same set of four rotating menus from the same four restaurants that they've been ordering from for the last year. And as spoiled as I feel to complain about free food, I really wish they'd mix it up a little more.
I never thought I'd get this attached to Stargate. On the one hand, the old episodes are popcorn, something I regard with a great deal of tolerant affection. On the other, the casting of Claudia Black as a regular something happened between the end of last season and the beginning of this one. I got enthusiastic. And then the show went and had a run of greatly entertaining episodes full of wonderful character moments, and the new team gelled and all the characters were really sparking with one another, and it seemed like the writers had more stories to tell, after treading familiar ground for so long.
The show had a long run. Even though I knew ratings for this season were in real trouble, there was a part of me that felt like Stargate had been on the air since dinosaurs walked the Earth, and would continue until the sun goes supernova. I'm sorry for everyone who's losing a job, but none more so than Ben Browder and Claudia Black, because it's happening again for them, and I'll admit I'm not being entirely altruistic--it was a treat to have both of them on my television screen for a new episode every week, one that I will continue to enjoy for the next fourteen episodes, and I wish we could have had them for longer.
I'd love to be optimistic about the producers finding other venues for the show, and MGM does have a financial incentive to try--they benefit from an economy of scale by running both productions together--but I'm not, because as annoyed as I might be at SciFi over the timing and the lack of promotion and the breaking up of the SciFi Friday block that is at least partially, in my opinion, responsible for the ratings slump, it's a ten year old show that's expensive to make and won't be looked on as having growth potential. Anyway, rydra_wong has some useful advice for people wondering what they can do, from the perspective of a battle-scarred Farscape fan.
* * * * *
I am continuing to really enjoy this show. The running gag on Sam reciting the wrong--whatever the UK equivalent of a Miranda warning is--is both funny (even the arrestees get impatient with him) and a nice reminder that he's still adjusting to a different time. The ways Sam and Hunt are circling each other, moving closer together in some areas, coming to some basic agreements, is just fascinating. Sam isn't just a professional, he's also motivated by a strong sense of justice, especially for the downtrodden and powerless (who are disproportionately women in 1973); so he can't take the crime boss's money, and he can't turn Joanie down, even though she's obviously out to entrap him. Hunt's interested in order, not justice, so he's been maintaining this balancing act with the local thugs to keep the violence down, and not inquiring too closely into how they do it. Hunt is all ends, Sam is all means. So it's both surprising and makes perfect sense that Hunt sees a little of his younger, more idealistic self in Sam--it explains both why he reacted so violently to Sam in the first place and why he went to bat for him with the crime boss, because Sam isn't just like he used to be, but is now one of his own, part of his tribe. But Hunt isn't the only one bending; Sam is willing to not only go with Hunt but actively participate in leaning on the thug to bring evidence against the crime boss, to concentrate on the ends if they suit his sense of justice.
I am really enjoying Dead Like Me, which seems to be building to better and better things with each episode.
Things I love, in no particular order:
* Rube, in general. His mannerisms puzzled me at first, but I've slowly come to realize that they're a product of his age, of the way his views on people and relationships were shaped in a different time and evolved on the wrong side of death. I also like the fact that he doesn't coddle George at all, because brutal honesty from him feels like respect.
* Mason is... it's a really good thing he's so pretty, because he does some foolish things. But he also hangs out with a lonely and cantankerous old lady, laughs at her stories, shows her genuine attention while he pumps her for information on the location of her valuables, kids her along as they conspire to sign over her SS checks to him, buries her under a tree when she worries that no one will find her body. That makes up for an awful lot of stone-cold stupid smuggling of drugs in a condom up his ass.
* The way George's mother is trying and failing to reach out to Reggie, and George's wisdom, acquired too late, driving her to try to mend the rift between the people she left behind.
* George's workplace, and in particular Dolores. So horrific. The scrapbooking club, the webcam, the awful, awful office politics.
* The improbable and sometimes incredibly elaborate death scenarios, the general absurdity of so many people's ends, and the things that keep them around--like A. Cook wanting to pass along to Rube his recipes and his experience of being on the other side of the counter, dealing with customer complaints.
* The fact that George is sometimes so lonely, and so very, very young, and trying to connect with other people when you're on your own for the first time is hard enough when you're not dead. And the fact that she's starting to try, to see the value in it, instead of shutting the world out.
* * * * *
Work is kicking my ass this week. This is the part of the release where unplanned surprise features turn up in the software and must be folded into the plan. At least they feed us when we stay after 7. Of course, they feed us the same set of four rotating menus from the same four restaurants that they've been ordering from for the last year. And as spoiled as I feel to complain about free food, I really wish they'd mix it up a little more.