I watched this again last night with a fellow Galactica nut. His first time, my second (third if you count the podcast).
The adjective that seems to fit the episode best is “clumsy.”
It definitely does not hold up to repeat viewing. First time through, I was sort of carried along, keeping mental notes about the stuff that didn’t work but letting it roll off, and focusing on the elements of interest: Apollo’s character, the nifty scenes between him and Tigh and betwen Baltar and Roslin, the glimpses of fleet life outside the military bubble, and so on.
This time, though, the problems were harder to ignore. I’ll stand by what I said about RDM’s own complaints — he’s right that the choice to use kids-in-danger as a gut-punch substitute for abstract economic theorizing is overkill, but the other issues, the very-bad bad guy and the straight-line investigation, aren’t bad at all — but far more bothersome are the things he doesn’t dwell on.
Specifically, it’s the introduction of so much significant information in such a compressed time frame. We’ve never seen Apollo’s Caprican girlfriend before; didn’t know anything about her. Nor Shevon, his “professional” squeeze. Nor the children in either scenario. Nor the existence of prostitution as a legitimate business. Nor the involvement of Fisk in anything shady. And the possible relationship between Apollo and Dee, while vaguely hinted at, wasn’t given nearly enough weight to support the confrontation as played. This episode piles on the exposition, and then expects us to care about it.
This, I think, is what RDM is getting at when he says the episode feels like “ordinary TV.” This is the storytelling model of episodic television as of a few years ago, in which each installment is largely stand-alone. In this model, the core characters are largely archetypal, components in a narrative mechanism. Each episode introduces the information you need for that hour’s story, processes the information, follows the conflict, and provides resolution by the end. Take that one episode of STNG where Riker’s father shows up: We knew virtually nothing about him before he appeared; we spend the first few minutes learning about the man and how he and Riker fail to communicate; and by the end of the hour the conflict has been at least partly erased. And as far as I recall, we never meet the man or even hear about him again.
Galactica has, up to this point, been better than that. Plot threads are laid into the narrative and allowed to lay dormant for many episodes; check the gap between Starbuck’s confession to Apollo in the miniseries about her role in Zak’s death, and her later confession of same to Adama. And last week’s episode finally paid off Six’s demand that Baltar acquire a nuclear weapon, after, what, sixteen or seventeen episodes since he first got it?
This episode would have worked a lot better if it had been drawn out a bit. Not a lot; just a bit. In particular, during “Resurrection Ship,” while Apollo was doing his spacewalk, that’s when we should have seen flashback glimpses of the Caprican blonde. Wouldn’t have required more than a few seconds, or even an explanation of who she is — just a flash, so we see her face and wonder why she was on Apollo’s mind. (According to the podcast, this was the intent, but it was cut for time. Bad choice.) Similarly, we needed one more brief moment between Apollo and Dee. We’ve seen it twice (the grappling moment, and Dee eavesdropping after Apollo’s rescue); we needed one more to solidify that they wanted us to pick up on it. It’s the rule of threes in storytelling: once is an incident, twice is curious, three times is setup. Naturally, we also needed to know that Apollo was in bed with Shevon, the pro, something else that wouldn’t have taken a lot of time.
So here’s what should have happened:
In “Resurrection Ship (1),” we needed a moment of awkward intimacy between Apollo and Dee. This pays off in part two when Dee’s repeating her searching messages over the wireless, and at the end.
In “Resurrection Ship (2),” we needed a fleeting glimpse of the blonde on Apollo’s mind during his spacewalk.
In “Epiphanies,” I would have sacrificed the revelation of Roslin’s affair with Adar in order to show Apollo with Shevon. I also would have included an exchange of throwaway dialogue to establish Fisk as possibly being involved in something odd, like somebody asking about a fine good of some kind (jewelry, whatever) and somebody else saying, “Talk to Fisk, he seems pretty well connected.”
In “Black Market” itself, by shifting out some of the above exposition, we buy a little time so we can see a bit more of Apollo’s investigation. And, of course, Shevon’s big speech at the end needed to be revamped completely, to make it about the character and not about the delivery of stupidly obvious emotional information.
And that, I think, is all that would have been required to pull this episode out of its mediocrity. Sounds like a lot, but they’re tweaks, really. By failing to lay the groundwork properly, the way they’ve been doing it all along, it makes this episode feel awkward, overstuffed, and, as I said above, clumsy by comparison with preceding episodes. And that, I think, is at the heart of what makes this installment feel like “ordinary TV.”
(I have similar concerns about how they’re going to handle the introduction of Starbuck as a drunk, as seen in the previews for next week. If it’s something that just suddenly is happening, without having been established, it will feel equally awkward. The right way to do it is to see Starbuck at the top, dissatisfied and distanced from Adama and what used to be her moral center, and to let us in on the beginnings of her plunge. She’s an extreme enough character that I can buy a steep plummet after she steps off the edge; she’s not a functioning drunk like Tigh.)
Point is, in “Black Market,” they didn’t miss by much, but what they did miss had a pretty significant impact on the success of the show. If nothing else, this episode demonstrates what a careful balancing act this kind of storytelling really is.