A rather thorough, spoiler-filled breakdown of Caprica below:
When you’re the prequel to a show called Battlestar Galactica, when you’re given the kind of major league promotions that accompany a Star Wars sequel, it’s hard to satisfy expectations. And that’s what has cursed Caprica since its first episode aired last winter. The ratings failed to wow, Syfy decided to divide up the first season, and only a couple weeks ago the network announced that the show would be returning three months earlier than previously reported – on a different night of the week. To say that there’s a lot hinging on Caprica Season 1.5 would be an understatement; the show was supposed to herald the next great drama for the network. Now it’s hanging by a thread.
Truth be told, I’ve long been an admirer and advocate for the series. I think it’s captivating sci-fi – less superficially satisfying than intellectually trailblazing. Think less Independence Day or Men In Black than Blade Runner or A.I.; the kind of sci-fi that is willing to take you to uncomfortable places. That said, I keep hearing the terms “heavy” and “brooding” used by others in discussing the show – I’m presuming as a negative assessment. But I find the series’ willingness to confront such issues as death, love and faith on an intellectual level kind of brave. Yes, there’s a lot of talking in Caprica, a lot of moody evocation of internal turmoil and tumult; but I find myself genuinely grappling with the issues at hand. There may be no less exciting, and yet no more intellectually stimulating, hour-long series on TV right now. This is sci-fi served up the way I like it: Smart, uncompromising, loaded with double-meanings.
All this disclosed, I understand why, in a bid to boost ratings, Caprica capped off the first half of its first season with a cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers. It’s a season finale that still juts out of the series’ narrative arc, an explosive aside peppered with suicides and military showdowns and corporate takeovers galore. Tuesday night’s episode brought the speed and pacing back into check, but kept the stakes high and the themes smart. (For those who have never watched Caprica, check out this Syfy trailer, geared at bringing you up to speed)
In season 1.5, there seem to be four key stories playing out. First and foremost is Daniel Graystone, who began Tuesday’s episode now missing both a daughter and wife. All he seems to care about is getting back into his company, which has been yanked away by a bitter business rival, and he’s so determined to detour around that hostile takeover that he meets with the Ha’la’tha’ and the Guatrau, offering this foreign crime boss hefty profits if he will help Graystone force his way back into the company. And not just profits from the building of giant army robots – the Cylons that always lurk in the background – but profits from the mass marketing of virtual reality machines that will offer mourners the chance to once again interact with loved ones who have died. Graystone is going to take his afterlife simulation public; he’s going to sell posthumous family reunions. He’s selling life after death.
Storyline number two is Lacy, working her way up through the ranks of the terrorists – the STO, which is hellbent on launching another major strike against a very public target. The mastermind behind this sure-to-be-forthcoming attack is Clarice (story number three), and in a fascinating medieval twist, she spent most of Tuesday’s episode deep within the bowels of what looks like the Vatican, petitioning the elders of her church to greenlight a terrorist attack. Why? She envisions a future in which she can use Graystone’s virtual universe to convince bystanders that this is the one true religion – the church that can guarantee an afterlife. Think of it as religion without a prerequisite of faith: An afterlife that you can see, feel and touch. The only cost of admission is absolute devotion. Clarice thinks she can convince just about everyone to sign on the dotted line. As another character observes, she seems to fancy herself something of a God.
Meanwhile, while Graystone tries to hock this afterlife for profits, and Clarice tries to use it to gain a stranglehold around her church – and its devotees – Zoe is still running around in that virtual reality, unchecked. Not quite a human and not quite a machine, she cannot be killed, cannot be stopped, and while no one is really watching, she is slowly becoming something of her own Messiah; the king of the avatars. I can’t wait for Daniel to go back into this world, only to discover that his daughter is something of a mafia kingpin.
Still, curiously, I find this last storyline to be the series’ least interesting. In this avatar world, where death doesn’t really mean death and where all the girls we care about can seemingly operate free of danger, there are no real stakes to care about. And I think the show’s creators need to figure out rather quickly what they hope to do with this otherworld, other than pay homage to their favorite film noirs.
Far more provocative was the final closing scene that followed Zoe’s ruler-of-the-world strut – namely Amanda Graystone, still alive after all, and bunking in a remote cabin with Clarice. The fact that Amanda is still alive, that Daniel is sending her video messages, that she has clearly faked her own suicide and is now hiding out with the terrorist queen, spins a whole lot of the show’s subplots upside down. Are Daniel and Amanda plotting something? Is Clarice collaborating with them as well? Could Daniel be manipulating the Guatrau, who clearly believes that he has, in fact, lost his wife? Or has Amanda simply snapped?
It’s a hell of a cliffhanger, but hardly the only profound note to be found in the episode. Daniel wants to sell eternal life, while Clarice wants to use it as the reward of church membership – the “apotheosis” that she keeps referring to, where access to heaven is a guarantee. But maybe a heaven where a rogue daughter is ruling over this virtual reality with an iron fist.
I know Caprica is heavy, that there’s a lot to keep track of, that perhaps there’s a bit too many breathless monologues and dramatic exits. But these are pretty straightforward and audacious themes – a thriller built around the prospect of cheating death, and exploiting eternal life. It doesn’t get much more clear-cut or provocative than that, and here’s hoping that next week the creators make the most of Amanda’s atypical resurrection, suggesting a larger scheme far more devious than we had come to expect.
I still think Caprica has the capacity to entertain, enlighten and surprise. With the stakes finally reaching whole new heights, maybe all that brooding will become well worth it.