I’ve just finished watching the Series Finale of Battlestar Galactica. There are no spoilers here, and I’ll save my opinions on the ending for those who have seen it and are interested in hearing about it. No, what I’m writing to talk about today is an unfortunate reaction to the close of the show. Ok, not jsut to this show, but to any long running TV series, set of books, or other extended storytelling universe. Inevitably, when planned out, and well executed, the ending to a story like this leaves me with a sense of completion, a sense of ending, a sense of finality. It could be the closing credits for the last time, the closing of the back cover, whatever, but it is done. This is a feeling I don’t get if the story is short (most movies), ends unplanned (prematurely canceled TV shows, some books), or is open ended enough that there is clear unfinished material.
It can be a nice feeling, to have this sense of resolution (satisfied or unsatisfied though I may be). I sit and enjoy the resolution. And then I’m faced with the abrupt and harsh reality that in life we don’t have resolution. We have to get up off the couch and keep going with our day, because there’s always the next thing to be done, the next day to greet, the next chapter to begin. This is simultaneously a buzzkill and a refresher. It’s rather annoying, actually.
