It's actually a sci-fi thriller starring Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. (Remember him from New Amsterdam? Oh. Well, that's okay. He's hot and can stare right through your skull.) But you'd never know it based on this preview clip alone. Even the bumpin' beat is total speed-freak home makeover music. Dalton Ross just walked by and begged me to turn it off. I turned it up.
Virtuality airs tonight from 8-10 ET on Fox -- an on-air promo just reminded me, so I thought I'd remind you. Clark Collis thinks the stand-alone special "screams 'failed pilot' loud
enough to be heard in space," but Battlestar Galactica fans will probably want to record this anyway because executive producer Ron Moore is behind it. Good enough for me. For you, too?
This week's news that Battlestar Galactica's Katee Sackhoff is bringing her brand of blond steel to 24 next season got me thinking. (No, not about THAT.) About how Battlestar, pound for pound, probably had the strongest ensemble cast of the past decade. Oscar-nominees (Edward James Olmos, Mary McDonnell), talented newcomers (Grace Park, Tahmoh Penikett, Tricia Helfer), seasoned veterans (Michael Hogan, Richard Hatch), and complete surprises (Sackhoff, James Callis) -- while the writing on Battlestar Galactica was indeed the strength of the base of the pillar, the ensemble is what gave that pillar its height.
Given that assembly of talent, it's no wonder that people are being drafted for meaty roles: Penikett on Dollhouse, Helfer's run on Burn Notice, and now Sackhoff giving Kiefer Sutherland a run for his money.
But BSG isn't alone in building a powerful company of players: The Wire clan is incredibly strong, as was The West Wing's extended family, The Sopranos' brothers in arms, and Oz's inmates.
Who's your favorite ensemble cast? And who from that cast would you like to see on a more regular basis? (No, not like THAT.)
Hey, boys and girls! Still fiending for that Battlestar Galactica fix almost a full month after the series finale? Well, then, today's your lucky day, as the two-hour pilot for the prequel series Caprica is on DVD as of...now! What's that? You wanna know how it is? I'm glad you asked...a psuedo-spoilery review, after the (FTL) jump.
Whether Dennis Rodman is dressed up like a chauffeur, Clint Black is pretending to use detergent to masturbate, or Joan Rivers is yelling at someone for being mean to daughter Melissa, Celebrity Apprentice continues to be the guiltiest pleasure going. They could make every episode 8 hours long (and sometimes they indeed feel that way) and I'd still be devouring every second of it. This week on Must List Live!, Jessica Shaw and I discuss my unhealthy obsession with the reality program. Also: I try to convince Jessica that the Battlestar Galactica prequel Caprica is not just for geeks, Amy Poehler talks to us about her new favorite DVD, and we're still giving away FREE passes to Comic-Con this July in San Diego complete with a hotel room and passes to our exclusive Entertainment Weekly Comic-Con party. (If you can't get enough of contest fine print than you can read all the rules here.) And as if all that isn't enough, we also present: zombies and Depeche Mode—together at last! Click on the video below to get all the second-rate reality show celebs, sci-fi prequels, and walking dead that you can handle!
If you, like me, are just coming to terms with the fact that there won't be a new episode of Battlestar Galactica on tonight -- or any other Friday night, ever -- then this little clip will pick those scabs clean off. This here is video footage of the cast read-through of the final episode of BSG. If you were trying to imagine what it was like for people who'd devoted years of their lives to Battlestar as they stood on the precipice of the finale...wonder no more. Warning: There will be tears. From you, too.
After a long and winding space-road full of apocalypse, revelation, and stuff blowing up real good, Friday night saw the series finale of Battlestar Galactica. Regardless of what you thought of BSG's last episode -- you can peep my take here, as well as scores of reader comments -- one thing I think we all can agree on is that with Galactica's passing we've crossed a threshold. Televised science fiction will never be the same. As they said when the soldiers were returning from Europe after the end of WWII, How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm once they've seen Paree?
How are we supposed to take shows like Knight Rider and Heroes seriously now that we've lived through the idiosyncratic brilliance that was Ronald D. Moore's Battlestar Galactica? Where do we go from here?
Well, boys and girls, here we are...a few hours from the beginning of Battlestar Galactica's end. Margaret Lyons and I will be blogging during the finale -- not quite live-blogging, because we'll be too busy watching to tear ourselves away -- but commercial breaks will be fertile ground for planting theories, questions, and what-the-frak-was-thats. It'll be like a party line, but without the sadness.
So we'll see you tonight at 9 p.m. ET, right here, for the fireworks. (And don't forget to check back tomorrow for my final Battlestar Galactica TV Watch...*snff*) But for now, think on this: What are the chances that we'll find out exactly who or what Starbuck really is? And what the opera house is all about? And what's the deal with Head Six?
As a treat, here's one of my favorite moments of the show -- I'll be running through my 10 faves in the BSG TV Watch -- complete with the awesomeness that was Fat Lee Adama.
The live-ish blog begins below, and of course, SPOILERS AHEAD.
The United Nations already feels like its own alternate universe -- one snatched from the 1970s, with its retro-disco architectural design and Swingtown decor -- but when I walked into the assembly room where Sci Fi and the UN's Department of Public Information was holding a Battlestar Galactica retrospective, the illusion was sealed: In front of each of the 200-plus delegate seats (you know, the ones with the mics and the translator ear thingies) was a placard from each of the 12 Colonies of Kobol.
Sci Fi turned the United Nations into the Quorum of Twelve. Which may be the third coolest thing I've ever seen.
Last night, in the New York Times building's Times Center, I saw something I'm not allowed to talk about. My not talking about it was ensured two ways -- by the embargo agreement I signed on the way in, and the "raise my right hand" oath that Battlestar Galactica executive producer Ronald D. Moore made all of the press attending take: "I swear not to reveal any of the spoilers I see tonight."
So, all I can say is, I saw the Battlestar Galactica series finale...and it was indeed a finale. Stuff happened, and credits rolled. (Come back on Friday for our first -- and last -- BSG live blog. And on Saturday for my TV Watch wrapping it all up. And, boy, is there a lot to wrap up.) A Q&A followed, with Moore, executive producer David Eick, Edward James Olmos, and Mary McDonnell, most of which also falls under the "goodies I can't talk about" category...except for the fact that McDonnell is hawt. Not exactly a spoiler, so I feel I'm in the clear.
The other thing of note at the Sci Fi Channel's dog-and-pony show was the name change. From "Sci Fi" to "SyFy". Sci Fi Channel president Dave Howe walked through the reasoning behind it, all of which makes a kind of sense: that sci-fi is a genre and, as such, it's hard to make unique as a brand. It'd be like naming your sports network "Sports" instead of "ESPN." One can't forge a destiny without being beholden to all the baggage that comes with the name. I get all that. But if you're gonna change the name, then CHANGE THE GODSDAMNED NAME. Don't half-ass it. Be bold, and mighty forces will come to your aid. (I'd have liked The Mansquito Network, but I'm in the vast minority.)
Moving on. The rest of the night went off without a hitch: saw some footage from Caprica -- the pilot of which'll be on DVD in April, nine months before the network premiere -- and Warehouse 13, the X-Files-y show Buffy and BSG alum Jane Espenson created about two FBI agents tasked to monitor the installation where the government keeps all the wacky paranormal crap they've collected over the years. Gawked at the assembled hotness of Sci Fi's stars: Caprica's Esai Morales, Stargate Universe's Robert Carlyle, and the Eureka trio of Salli Richardson-Whitfield, Colin Ferguson, and Joe Morton.
Had a couple of drinks, told Morton I've got his back, shook hands with Admiral Adama, exchanged furtive glances with McDonnell from afar, and then got stuck on a New Jersey Transit train for three hours. Geekery, thou art a harsh mistress. You give, and then you take.
There's no denying that this season of our beloved Battlestar Galactica has been pretty fantastic. But, PopWatchers, something's been bugging me, and I can't hold it in any longer: Ever since burning hunk of man Apollo left Galactica, his hair has slowly grown into an approximation of Patrick Swayze's 'do circa Dirty Dancing. And during last week's battle aboard Galactica, that image was so dominant all I could think when he was onscreen was: "ADAMA. HAIRCUT. GET ONE." (Yes, in all-caps. That's just how I think, sometimes.) I know, I know, blah blah "symbolic break with the military" blah.
Of course, this isn't the first time thoughts of hair have ruined a scene for me. During Cordelia's ascension into higher-power land at the end of Angel's third season, I completely ignored the fact that she was floating into another dimension and instead concentrated on her massacred, blonde-dyed locks. And Chuck's floppy, windswept coiffure left no room in my head for dialogue in that "climactic" roof scene a few weeks ago on Gossip Girl.
So tell me, PopWatchers: Am I alone in my horrific shallowness, or do little things like that also bring you down as well?
After a long and winding space-road full of apocalypse, revelation, and stuff blowing up real good, Friday night saw the series finale of Battlestar Galactica. Regardless of what you thought of BSG's last episode -- you can peep 
The United Nations already feels like its own alternate universe -- one snatched from the 1970s, with its retro-disco architectural design and Swingtown decor -- but when I walked into the assembly room where Sci Fi and the UN's Department of Public Information was holding a Battlestar Galactica retrospective, the illusion was sealed: In front of each of the 200-plus delegate seats (you know, the ones with the mics and the translator ear thingies) was a placard from each of the 12 Colonies of Kobol. 
Last night, in the New York Times building's Times Center, I saw something I'm not allowed to talk about. My not talking about it was ensured two ways -- by the embargo agreement I signed on the way in, and the "raise my right hand" oath that Battlestar Galactica executive producer Ronald D. Moore made all of the press attending take: "I swear not to reveal any of the spoilers I see tonight."
There's no denying that this season of our beloved Battlestar Galactica has been pretty fantastic. But, PopWatchers, something's been bugging me, and I can't hold it in any longer: Ever since burning hunk of man Apollo left Galactica, his hair has slowly grown into an approximation of Patrick Swayze's 'do circa Dirty Dancing. And during last week's battle aboard Galactica, that image was so dominant all I could think when he was onscreen was: "ADAMA. HAIRCUT. GET ONE." (Yes, in all-caps. That's just how I think, sometimes.) I know, I know, blah blah "symbolic break with the military" blah.
