If you’ve never watched this much-touted rebooted version of the 70’s space opera classic Battlestar Galactica -- as I have recently learned a disturbing amount of otherwise well-informed and geek culture-savvy people have somehow, bizarrely, not -- then I wish I could tell you that you should immediately find yourself a mini-series-plus-four-season box set and get cracking on it right away. I wish I could tell you that you will find within limitless hours of groundbreaking, mindbending joy; that you will meet fascinating characters and go with them on fantastic, if fatalistic, voyages; that you will be immersed in a clever allegory wrapped up in all the trappings of the most exhilarating of Military SF, and at the same time discover for yourself the kind of remarkable story-telling that lingers in your heart and mind long after the credits roll.

Well, actually, I really could tell you all of that, without a word of a lie. But if I then failed to mention the sheer infuriating insanity of BSG’s befuddlingly awful fourth and final season, then I would at the very least be telling you a lie of omission, and certainly not be doing you any favors besides.

I imagine we’re all pretty au fait with the barebones of the plot, so I fear no complaints of rampant spoilerism when I tell you that our tale commences with the destruction of civilization as our plucky heroes know it. They are varied members of the tribes of Kobol, of which there are twelve colonies (Caprica, Aquaria, Aerilon, Canceron, Gemenon, you get the idea; it’s all very astrological) which enjoy a certain level of health, peace and prosperity, presented to us as a kind of utopian idyll -- although we later learn that’s not entirely true, and that simmering resentments linger below the surface of this seemingly united people. But what is one thing we who know anything about this genre know about utopian idylls? That’s right! They are made simply to be broken.

And broken this one is, by the ruthless might of the Cylons. Once mere mechanical servants, these artificial intelligences revolted against their masters in the dim, dark past, and ever since they, as a free people and feared enemy, have maintained a cordial détente with their one-time oppressors. But the Cylons are no longer content with a ceasefire; no longer content with being lords of their own destiny. Instead, they have come up with the somewhat grandiose scheme of wiping all of humanity out of existence (when the reasoning behind it all is finally given, one really has to wonder at the fundamental flaws in their logical subroutines), and having received some unwitting assistance from the brilliant but amoral Gaius Baltar (James Callis), the Cylons manage to SMASH the human worlds to a pulp, killing billions upon billions, and leaving less than fifty thousand people yet alive in all the galaxy, as far as they are aware.

Among those survivors is one Commander William Adama (Edward James Olmos), aboard the obsolete but majestic ship, the Battlestar Galactica. When all the other Battlestars find themselves on the wrong end of the Cylon sneakiness, Galactica yet survives, and after gathering unto it a “fleet” of ships that also survived the devastation, she and her crew begin the long, long search for safe haven, harried all the while by Cylon armadas and infiltrators and who knows what all else.

The initial mini-series remains one of the Syfy, née-Sci-Fi Channel’s most watched “events” ever, and with good reason. Dark, edgy, and utterly unique on television, this was science fiction that took good people and forced them into bad situations from which we had little hope they would manage to escape. No deus ex machina, no technobabbly last-minute saves here: we were privileged to enter a world full of real, fallible people with real, tangible problems (except, y’know… in space) and there was nothing about it that was not thoroughly, wondrously addictive.

Then, later, the regular series began, and in every particular -- from sets to effects to acting to dialogue to direction -- BSG outshone all of its contemporaries in sci-fi TV, and a good portion of its predecessors. Certainly, it made the Richard Hatch-Lorne Green original seem about as weighty as Lost in Space by comparison.

And the cast! Oh, the cast was phenomenal. Olmos, sweating gravitas from every pore; Callis, cunning and repellant, yet somehow thoroughly engaging at the same time; Mary McDonnell, as the reluctant President, Laura Roslin, fierce and charming and valiant; Tricia Helfer, as the seductive humanoid Cylon, Number Six, who basically redefined villainy; Grace Park as conflicted pilot Boomer, believably conveying disastrous hidden depths; Aaron Douglas, as the irascible, steadfast Chief Tyrol; Michael Hogan as the dissolute but loyal Colonel Tigh; and Tahmoh Penikett, chiseled and impassioned, as the determinedly heroic Lt. Helo.

And then, of course, there were Katee Sackhoff and Jamie Bamber, as Kara “Starbuck” Thrace and Lee “Apollo” Adama respectively, and together as one of the most awesomely, tragically Shakespearean will-they-won’t-they couples ever to grace the screen. Kara, rangey and intense, gorgeous in her devil may care attitude; Lee, earnest and honorable, but with a twinkle in his eye that promised mischief lurking behind his very proper demeanor. Theirs was a friendship, rivalry and love/hate/neediness that was never not fun to watch, and even when the episode would end and nothing would have come of it all, as nothing almost ever did (this show not being a big one for espousing the lasting happiness of its characters, like, at all), it was hard to mind because they we just so damn… well, hot in their ongoing UST.

But then it all started to go so very, very wrong.

Look, maybe you’ll still watch BSG someday, so I won’t go into the specifics of its downfall too much, but suffice it to say, the Gaius-is-the-Messiah, Starbuck-is-an-angel, “All Along the Watchtower”-is-a-galactic-reference-point, wait-THAT’S-the-Final-Five?-are-you-fucking-kidding-me? fourth season of the show quite literally had me in tears of impotent rage. The finale was probably the stupidest, most gut-wrenchingly dreadful hour of television I have ever endured (and, dude; I’ve seen more than one episode of I Love New York), and, look, I’ll be honest. There may have been things thrown at the TV. With force.

Do I hate Battlestar Galactica now? Nope. Even after this disappointing (wow, what a mild word; excruciating might be better) ending, I went on to read the comic books and check out the webisodes and purchase the straight-to-DVD retcon known as The Plan (the take-away from which? Cylons are DUMB), and I still go back and rewatch my favorite episodes from the first three seasons every now and then (“You Can’t Go Home Again" [01.05], “Resistance” [02.04], “Unfinished Business” [03.09] -- what can I say? I love me some Starbuck) -- and even, on occasion, I’ll watch one from the fourth season. You know. If it’s on cable. And I don’t have a fork handy with which to gouge out my eyes.

But, onto what should be the main focus of any review: do I believe you should watch it? And… well, yeah. Yes I do. I know I am far from the only person who hated Season 4, but there are many who dug it, too. Geek Speak’s own David Rosiak once told me, most emphatically, and in response to my complaints, that “BSG is the best, most important televised science fiction since the Star Trek: The Original Series, and even in its weakest moments, it still swung for the fences. Moore's overtly religious ending is perfectly in keeping with the themes of the show that were established in the very first episode; it wasn't about space battles and the search for Earth at all, but rather the search for truth and one's place in a theistic universe.”

(Yeah. Okay.)

Like all the best science fiction, Battlestar Galactica awakens passions within its viewers, opening up debates and reaching for larger purpose, even if it doesn’t always succeed in grasping it. Sure, the finale wasn’t the one that I wanted, but maybe it was the one that I needed, if only so that I would no longer be so complacent, so sure of the deus ex machina... and perhaps not so reliant on it, either. Regardless of its outcome, this reimagined BSG really is one of the most profoundly impactful series our genre has ever produced (which, considering it was a reimagining, is really something) and for all my discontent, I truly believe it is something that any proper geek worth his or her salt should at least assay.

Just do yourselves a favor and steer clear of the blessedly short-lived prequel series, Caprica. That crap was disappointing from the get-go.

   -- Rachel Hyland