A few years ago, when the Battlestar Galactica re-imagining craze was in full swing, it would have been quite impossible for me to care any less about the whole thing. I know. Shocking, right? At the time, the only thing a that tickled me a bit about it , was the fact that everyone in the show said “frak” in place of curse words.
I mean, frak. It sounded like something Tim Burton’s invaders from Mars Attacks! would say.
There I was, armed with almost no back story, and all I kept hearing was how pretty much anyone could be a Cylon, and how the show was addictive like crack.
I don’t know about anyone else, but I much prefer not being addicted to crack. Especially if it is as whack as they say.
Numerous were the occasions in which some enthusiastic individual tried to talk to me about some of the basic elements of the show. Namely, “OMG, dude! The Cylons look like people! And they have sex!”
They were all met with a pretty decisive “meh” on my end, despite the promise of gratuitous bootay.
It wasn’t until Netflix
got in on the crack began streaming the complete series that I somewhat halfheartedly started watching.
Needless to say, my hesitation didn’t last long. Before I knew it, I was watching multiple episodes at a time, and screaming at my screen, like someone in a Tyler Perry movie.
How does this happen, you ask? How does someone initially so uninterested become so immersed?
Well, like I said. Crack.