SG:A 4x20 - The Last Man
Mar. 8th, 2008 05:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stillaneFair warning: coherence? *dies laughing* Mostly, this is just an excuse to abuse the word 'oh' and the italics button.
Maybe I wasn't awake yet, maybe I was just in shock, but I have to admit that the first time through didn't hit me all that hard. I thought, Yeah, interesting and certainly ouch, but it'll get fixed.
And then I watched it again.
Oh. Just... oh.
The specifics:
- I'm really curious about where they're going with the Genii. I like that it's not a simple resolve, that they're drawing out the uncertainty like an actual conflict between nations.
- I love the colors in this episode so, so much. I love that the first scene on the planet with Lorne is vibrant and green and alive, and that Atlantis is instantly so foreign. Beautiful, always beautiful, but like a photographic negative.
- I love the soundtrack - or more accurately the lack thereof - at the best moments here. The utter silence when John comes through the gate... oh.
- Then we get Doctor Who music. Hee.
- The contrast to that very first time they came through the gate is fantastic. There's nothing here now. No 10,000-year-old dead plants, no commemorative plaque, nothing. What kills me is the lack of sheets over the equipment. The Ancients always assumed they were coming back; whatever happened this time around, we didn't.
- John talking to himself when the world goes to hell never gets old.
- I'll say it for the first time here, but you can bet it won't be the last. Jesus god, guys, Hewlett in this one.... Even his voice is different in that first radio conversation. It takes a while to sink in, but there's so much missing, so much worn away. God.
- Oh, man. The entire scene in the hologram room. The first time through it was just cool and explanatory, but the second time... This is where I crumbled. This is where it's all so obvious in retrospect that what's coming is horrific, and just how much hope is resting on this one last try.
- The way Rodney looks at John is heartbreaking. It's hope and history and an edge of pain.
- I adore "You remember me the... the way I was," and the fact that it's not self pity underneath. It's nostalgia. It's been long enough that he doesn't even think of it with that sharp edge anymore, and that's what killed me dead about this whole episode. There's an urgency, because the here and the now matters, but there's also a sense of weariness. It's over and done with long ago, for all that it isn't really.
- "'Fraid not. Freak accident. Sorry," cracked me up in spite of everything. It's just so damned Stargate. Heh.
- Also, we have absolute proof that Rodney should never, underany most circumstances, be allowed to dress himself. He looks like Mr. Rogers. It's disturbing.
- John losing his shit will also never get old.
- But oh, the look on John's face when it all clicks into place. Notice he doesn't say 'everyone', doesn't make it about the whole of his world. On the one hand, it's just a thought too big to consider. On the other, though... his eyes keep tracing up and down Rodney, and that look he's wearing is a carbon copy of the one from that moment in Doppelganger when all of us stopped breathing. This loss is personal.
- I love the fact that John tries to say something several times while Rodney's casually laying out the end of everything, and that he never manages to get the words out.
- "... the great Dr. Rodney McKay." Oh. oh. This is where I cried. It's such an innocuous little moment, and yet it's everything. It's pure Rodney, the same kind of thoughtless assurance that he's always had, except that it isn't at all. He's too quiet, and there's irony in him that should never, ever be there. Knowing how it all turns out, what he gives up to get this far, makes that one little line so sharp.
- And John, brilliant guy that he is, is cataloging all the differences the whole time.
- The lights coming on and then fading out behind them are a beautiful touch. The shading on the walls is, too. Without the sunlight, the rest of Atlantis should just look empty, but it goes deeper than that. They made her look different. *adores*
- Completely shallowly: good lord, Flanigan in the scene where Rodney's explaining the downfall of civilization as they knew it, that shot over Hewlett's shoulder... That is one terrifyingly pretty man. *sigh*
- Teyla. God, Teyla. The way Rodney smiles for a moment in there, and the way he still can't quite understand why Michael killed her. Oh.
- When they're walking along and Rodney's telling John he's a moron for blaming himself, it's the first time he really sounds like Rodney. Huh.
- I am going to need an icon of the sand in that hallway and Rodney silhouetted against it. That is just a gorgeous graphic.
- John psyching himself up to ask about everyone else is painful.
- Rodney talks about Sam like she's legend. There's fondness in it, but also awe. I've always thought that underneath it all, he hero worships her, and this is a Rodney who's not bothering to hide it.
- Radek! Hi! Also, aw.
- Sam says goodbye, because she knows. Oh, Sam.
- And this is where the idea of POV comes in. On the surface, they need to show things Rodney hasn't been privy to just to keep us all out here from being bored to tears. Deeper than that, though... Whatever we're seeing is through Rodney's eyes. It's what he assumes happened, and what he remembers through his own lenses. It's like John's Replicator-induced dream from way back when; in that light, every flashback reads as a look not just into the past, but also into Rodney's head.
- Along those lines: he tells John that Sam must have been trapped, and yet pictures her not even trying to escape. He's still got things he won't say, places he can't go out loud.
- Hewlett. Oh, Hewlett. Between the quiet acceptance of "And we buried another empty casket," and the way he sounds tired underneath the panic of a plan falling apart, god.
- I love that Ronon goes back to who he was before everything. Not just before Atlantis, but before the Running. Atlantis has changed him enough that he can be who he was. Despite it all, he's healed that much.
- Todd! Hi, Todd!
- Back to this being through Rodney's vision: Todd's explanation of his plan is so purely Rodney. *snort* Also, "I was just gonna blow it up" is hilariously caricatured Ronon.
- Rodney thinks Ronon smiled like that at the end. This may be the other moment when I cried.
- "I wish some of these stories had happier endings." I don't even have anything to say to that.
- Rodney's ashamed of himself. Even knowing that it worked, he doesn't want to talk about what he did or what he had to do.
- Woolsey. Huh. And the IOA being exactly the kind of bastards we've always known they'd be. There are thinky thoughts to be had here, but I'm not going to have them. Sorry.
- So, Michael definitely = Hitler now, right? What with the genocide and the appeasement tactics and all. Hm.
- The one thing that Rodney still clings to, the one thing he's got left of what was, is that John's alive. That right there is pure faith.
- God, that kiss. Whoa. He keeps opening his eyes. *falls over*
- It is absolutely no secret that I can lalala my way through anything un-OTP, but the Keller thing... I bought it. All the way. They're cute together under normal circumstances, and under these, they're sweetly heartbreaking. They're all they have of who they were, and they make it work.
- Rodney without the SGC always hurts me. Rationally, I know that life goes on, that he wouldn't just curl up in the fetal position, but it's like watching someone be paralyzed.
- Rodney in that SGC hallway is bad, but Rodney with that terrible hope is worse.
- Shallow interjection: can we frequently get Hewlett in his PJs? Because... yeah. Mm. This would be the one exception to the Not Allowed To Dress Himself rule.
- Back to the pain: Rodney McKay living in a dark little apartment and working at a community college... There are not words for that. There's so much wasted, so much gone tight and horrifyingly mundane, that I can't even harness it. I hate every moment of this, and yet adore it all the same. It's so very him, to narrow everything down to one single problem and then fix it. And in the face of that, if everything else goes by the wayside, that's just how it works. Rodney McKay does what needs to be done, because the alternative is to lay down and die and that's not enough for him.
- Jeannie! Hi, Jeannie! But, oh, even she gave up? I do not think that ended well. *winces*
- Lorne! Lorne made General!
- This scene in Lorne's office is fantastic. This conversation between these two men, possibly the only ones left who understand, is so well done. The acting alone is awesome, but it goes right down to the props and the lighting. They're older here, indefinably different, and their power dynamic is changed, and there's history between them that runs so deep it's under the skin. *shivers*
- "You saw what happened in Pegasus, you know what's happening here." I'm guessing that whole strategy of handing the galaxy over to Michael and hoping he'd be content with his new toys didn't work out so well. Congratulations, IOA, for once again pulling an ostrich maneuver in the face of certain doom.
- What happened to Rodney after he made the program work? He very conspicuously doesn't say, maybe because this version of him doesn't know, but he also doesn't even vaguely seem to care. His entire life meant nothing, except for this. Earlier, he says, "I spent the last 25 years of my life..." and I wonder if the phrasing is intentional. Not "I've spent"; more final. Ouch.
- That makes two weeks in a row Rodney's had to freeze dry a friend (give or take 48,000 years). I wonder what happened to Carson in this timeline?
- The bandanna and the dust makes me want an Old West train robber John AU. He'd be very Robin Hood about it, of course, but he'd also be gloriously badass. When he wasn't being a doofus and imagining them all as pirates of the plains, of course.
- I love John's frustration while waiting for clearance. I'd blame the 700 years of cryogenic captivity, but really, it's just pure John.
- The hair question, and the fact that John honestly thinks about how he's going to answer it, are great. He's off screen at the time, but you know he's going through that wormhole with just a hint of a smirk.
- I love that John walks into the room where Teyla's not and can't take his eyes off of that floor for a while.
- And then the world falls down around their ears. I'll admit, I didn't see that one coming. What the fuck?
And now we hurry up and wait. *jitters* At least there should be plenty of fic on the way, right?
*off to go read what everyone else thought*
And then I watched it again.
Oh. Just... oh.
The specifics:
- I'm really curious about where they're going with the Genii. I like that it's not a simple resolve, that they're drawing out the uncertainty like an actual conflict between nations.
- I love the colors in this episode so, so much. I love that the first scene on the planet with Lorne is vibrant and green and alive, and that Atlantis is instantly so foreign. Beautiful, always beautiful, but like a photographic negative.
- I love the soundtrack - or more accurately the lack thereof - at the best moments here. The utter silence when John comes through the gate... oh.
- Then we get Doctor Who music. Hee.
- The contrast to that very first time they came through the gate is fantastic. There's nothing here now. No 10,000-year-old dead plants, no commemorative plaque, nothing. What kills me is the lack of sheets over the equipment. The Ancients always assumed they were coming back; whatever happened this time around, we didn't.
- John talking to himself when the world goes to hell never gets old.
- I'll say it for the first time here, but you can bet it won't be the last. Jesus god, guys, Hewlett in this one.... Even his voice is different in that first radio conversation. It takes a while to sink in, but there's so much missing, so much worn away. God.
- Oh, man. The entire scene in the hologram room. The first time through it was just cool and explanatory, but the second time... This is where I crumbled. This is where it's all so obvious in retrospect that what's coming is horrific, and just how much hope is resting on this one last try.
- The way Rodney looks at John is heartbreaking. It's hope and history and an edge of pain.
- I adore "You remember me the... the way I was," and the fact that it's not self pity underneath. It's nostalgia. It's been long enough that he doesn't even think of it with that sharp edge anymore, and that's what killed me dead about this whole episode. There's an urgency, because the here and the now matters, but there's also a sense of weariness. It's over and done with long ago, for all that it isn't really.
- "'Fraid not. Freak accident. Sorry," cracked me up in spite of everything. It's just so damned Stargate. Heh.
- Also, we have absolute proof that Rodney should never, under
- John losing his shit will also never get old.
- But oh, the look on John's face when it all clicks into place. Notice he doesn't say 'everyone', doesn't make it about the whole of his world. On the one hand, it's just a thought too big to consider. On the other, though... his eyes keep tracing up and down Rodney, and that look he's wearing is a carbon copy of the one from that moment in Doppelganger when all of us stopped breathing. This loss is personal.
- I love the fact that John tries to say something several times while Rodney's casually laying out the end of everything, and that he never manages to get the words out.
- "... the great Dr. Rodney McKay." Oh. oh. This is where I cried. It's such an innocuous little moment, and yet it's everything. It's pure Rodney, the same kind of thoughtless assurance that he's always had, except that it isn't at all. He's too quiet, and there's irony in him that should never, ever be there. Knowing how it all turns out, what he gives up to get this far, makes that one little line so sharp.
- And John, brilliant guy that he is, is cataloging all the differences the whole time.
- The lights coming on and then fading out behind them are a beautiful touch. The shading on the walls is, too. Without the sunlight, the rest of Atlantis should just look empty, but it goes deeper than that. They made her look different. *adores*
- Completely shallowly: good lord, Flanigan in the scene where Rodney's explaining the downfall of civilization as they knew it, that shot over Hewlett's shoulder... That is one terrifyingly pretty man. *sigh*
- Teyla. God, Teyla. The way Rodney smiles for a moment in there, and the way he still can't quite understand why Michael killed her. Oh.
- When they're walking along and Rodney's telling John he's a moron for blaming himself, it's the first time he really sounds like Rodney. Huh.
- I am going to need an icon of the sand in that hallway and Rodney silhouetted against it. That is just a gorgeous graphic.
- John psyching himself up to ask about everyone else is painful.
- Rodney talks about Sam like she's legend. There's fondness in it, but also awe. I've always thought that underneath it all, he hero worships her, and this is a Rodney who's not bothering to hide it.
- Radek! Hi! Also, aw.
- Sam says goodbye, because she knows. Oh, Sam.
- And this is where the idea of POV comes in. On the surface, they need to show things Rodney hasn't been privy to just to keep us all out here from being bored to tears. Deeper than that, though... Whatever we're seeing is through Rodney's eyes. It's what he assumes happened, and what he remembers through his own lenses. It's like John's Replicator-induced dream from way back when; in that light, every flashback reads as a look not just into the past, but also into Rodney's head.
- Along those lines: he tells John that Sam must have been trapped, and yet pictures her not even trying to escape. He's still got things he won't say, places he can't go out loud.
- Hewlett. Oh, Hewlett. Between the quiet acceptance of "And we buried another empty casket," and the way he sounds tired underneath the panic of a plan falling apart, god.
- I love that Ronon goes back to who he was before everything. Not just before Atlantis, but before the Running. Atlantis has changed him enough that he can be who he was. Despite it all, he's healed that much.
- Todd! Hi, Todd!
- Back to this being through Rodney's vision: Todd's explanation of his plan is so purely Rodney. *snort* Also, "I was just gonna blow it up" is hilariously caricatured Ronon.
- Rodney thinks Ronon smiled like that at the end. This may be the other moment when I cried.
- "I wish some of these stories had happier endings." I don't even have anything to say to that.
- Rodney's ashamed of himself. Even knowing that it worked, he doesn't want to talk about what he did or what he had to do.
- Woolsey. Huh. And the IOA being exactly the kind of bastards we've always known they'd be. There are thinky thoughts to be had here, but I'm not going to have them. Sorry.
- So, Michael definitely = Hitler now, right? What with the genocide and the appeasement tactics and all. Hm.
- The one thing that Rodney still clings to, the one thing he's got left of what was, is that John's alive. That right there is pure faith.
- God, that kiss. Whoa. He keeps opening his eyes. *falls over*
- It is absolutely no secret that I can lalala my way through anything un-OTP, but the Keller thing... I bought it. All the way. They're cute together under normal circumstances, and under these, they're sweetly heartbreaking. They're all they have of who they were, and they make it work.
- Rodney without the SGC always hurts me. Rationally, I know that life goes on, that he wouldn't just curl up in the fetal position, but it's like watching someone be paralyzed.
- Rodney in that SGC hallway is bad, but Rodney with that terrible hope is worse.
- Shallow interjection: can we frequently get Hewlett in his PJs? Because... yeah. Mm. This would be the one exception to the Not Allowed To Dress Himself rule.
- Back to the pain: Rodney McKay living in a dark little apartment and working at a community college... There are not words for that. There's so much wasted, so much gone tight and horrifyingly mundane, that I can't even harness it. I hate every moment of this, and yet adore it all the same. It's so very him, to narrow everything down to one single problem and then fix it. And in the face of that, if everything else goes by the wayside, that's just how it works. Rodney McKay does what needs to be done, because the alternative is to lay down and die and that's not enough for him.
- Jeannie! Hi, Jeannie! But, oh, even she gave up? I do not think that ended well. *winces*
- Lorne! Lorne made General!
- This scene in Lorne's office is fantastic. This conversation between these two men, possibly the only ones left who understand, is so well done. The acting alone is awesome, but it goes right down to the props and the lighting. They're older here, indefinably different, and their power dynamic is changed, and there's history between them that runs so deep it's under the skin. *shivers*
- "You saw what happened in Pegasus, you know what's happening here." I'm guessing that whole strategy of handing the galaxy over to Michael and hoping he'd be content with his new toys didn't work out so well. Congratulations, IOA, for once again pulling an ostrich maneuver in the face of certain doom.
- What happened to Rodney after he made the program work? He very conspicuously doesn't say, maybe because this version of him doesn't know, but he also doesn't even vaguely seem to care. His entire life meant nothing, except for this. Earlier, he says, "I spent the last 25 years of my life..." and I wonder if the phrasing is intentional. Not "I've spent"; more final. Ouch.
- That makes two weeks in a row Rodney's had to freeze dry a friend (give or take 48,000 years). I wonder what happened to Carson in this timeline?
- The bandanna and the dust makes me want an Old West train robber John AU. He'd be very Robin Hood about it, of course, but he'd also be gloriously badass. When he wasn't being a doofus and imagining them all as pirates of the plains, of course.
- I love John's frustration while waiting for clearance. I'd blame the 700 years of cryogenic captivity, but really, it's just pure John.
- The hair question, and the fact that John honestly thinks about how he's going to answer it, are great. He's off screen at the time, but you know he's going through that wormhole with just a hint of a smirk.
- I love that John walks into the room where Teyla's not and can't take his eyes off of that floor for a while.
- And then the world falls down around their ears. I'll admit, I didn't see that one coming. What the fuck?
And now we hurry up and wait. *jitters* At least there should be plenty of fic on the way, right?
*off to go read what everyone else thought*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-10 04:13 am (UTC)*nods seriously* The man built nuclear weapons while high on stimulants and he says that this is the most worn out he's ever been? It's all about the John-less trauma, I tell you.
This series is really into the 'what if' apocalyptic scenarios, huh?
Really kind of is. If you count all the times SG:1 did it, that's a whole lot of World-Go-Boom, and yet, it still works. Not quite sure how they manage that, but I'm not complaining. Both shows are very, very big on 'what if' in general, what with all the AUs that come into play, and the occasional retcon, and the totally blithe willingness to kill certain characters repeatedly. I would make a jokes about said certain character here, but I'm not sure how far you've gotten with SG:1. Have you begun to notice a particular trend-o-death yet?
Weirdly enough, what I'd think of as a handicap in other shows tends to make me like these all the more.
Or, you know, it could just be that it's John and Rodney at the end of the world. I'm easy like that. *g*
Study? what's that?
*dies* Holy crap, Kris, neuro. Neuro. *shudders*
no subject
Date: 2008-03-10 04:25 am (UTC)Definitely could be.
And Neuro. Frngh.
As someone who friggin majored in neuroscience for undergrad, I thought that course and exam were hellish.
I'm 'working' on Tox tonight. Also bleh, but at least it's not a Pass or Bust course. You have my sympathies. It'll be okay, it'll just suck a little until Okay comes by.