Earlier this week, NBC announced that it was officially killing the regular TV season. They will be running a 52-week schedule starting this fall. It isn’t far off from what we’ve gotten used to in the past decade, with the upswing of original and admirable content during the summer season, but this official nail in the coffin doesn’t come without stirring up a bit of wistfulness in my TV-loving heart. You see, the tube, as it was when I was growing up, is gone. The writing has been on the wall for years… and most recently in The New York Times. Their Fall 2007 TV preview included a piece about the way people are defined by the shows they love. It’s the medium’s golden age, and people are taking advantage of this on their own terms. This is not a bad thing. As a TV fan, obsessive and aspiring scholar, nothing is more intriguing to me than the notion of seeing yourself reflected in your set. But with this new lack of structure and focus on independence, the once communal culture of TV barely extends beyond small factions of rabid fans. Nielson can talk ratings all he wants, but as I see it, the collective TV experience is on its way out.

So this is why I watch American Idol. For me, it offers something that none of my scripted favorites can. It is event television in a time when event television (save award shows, sporting events and national disasters) is gone. Sure, Lost, Entourage and Weeds are all good for the water cooler, but do your parents know what’s happening on them? Are their moments dissected or mocked on every talk show and local news broadcast? When something even remotely unexpected takes place, can you not get away with watching them a few days late and remain spoiler free? The answer to all of these questions is “no.” American Idol owns this type of attention (in my opinion, Dancing With The Stars still isn’t there), and offers me my only means to bond with TV-watching America. It’s the only thing we do together.

Just a couple weeks ago I was lamenting with a friend over the state of music videos – how they hold no interest to me any longer and how I’m not even sure if any of my favorite bands actually produce them. We talked about how their premieres used to be events. Everyone wanted to see who would make cameos in Michael Jackson’s clips and how he’d stretch 3:48 of song into a ten-minute feature. They’d air them on network TV – an idea that seems so foreign now it’s hard to reconcile that it was ever real. I was reminded of this tonight during the filler-heavy Idol results show when they premiered Paula Abdul’s attempt to reignite her music career. It’s beyond bizarre that their screening of “Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow” was the first music video I’ve seen outside of YouTube in well over a year. If someone as immersed in television as myself can claim this, I can’t imagine how many other (less fervent) viewers shared my experience. However many there were, no show but American Idol could have sparked the question.

When someone asks me what television shows I like, which someone inevitably does on an almost daily basis, I skew my answer for the person asking. In most instances, I pick the most popular or recognizable series in my roster – like Idol. If I were to tell one of my parents’ friends, for example, that I love Battlestar Galactica, they would be confused and possibly uncomfortable. I, in turn, would be angry that my declaration was met with glassy eyes and an ignorance to the fact that it is one of the smartest and most relevant programs of the last decade. But by holding my favorites close to my heart, and only discussing them in my writing and among like-minded friends, I realize I am a part of the diaspora.

In the end, my nostalgia for family time in front of a tube free of DVR, DVDs and divisive or elitist programming is a moot point. I wouldn’t trade my TV lifestyle or my favorite dramas for the widest flat screen you could dream of. If connecting with my countrymen means only watching shows as agreeable American Idol, I’d prefer to be on my own. But I’ll enjoy the happy medium I have right now while I still can. The TV experience isn’t what it used to be, and what’s left of it is fading fast.

So what is Razor exactly? Think of it as a lost episode from the second season that wouldn’t have really made sense until the wake of the third’s messy conclusion. Lee has just taken charge of the Battlestar Pegasus, and he makes a feisty, Angelina Jolie-esque crewmember named Kendra Shaw his XO (or “second in command” for you non-speakers of nerdish). Through her drug-addled flashbacks, we see what exactly happened onboard the Pegasus from the moment the cylons destroyed the colonies – every violent, unsettling, lesbian love triangular minute of it. We get another lesson in why democracy is of such vital importance, but in true Battlestar fashion, there’s also a great deal of ambiguity around the difference between individuals and the choices they make. We learn a lot about Admiral Cain, and we remember why we were kind of tickled to see her get shot in the face.

When not looking back, Razor is looking very far into the future. Lee’s first mission at the helm of Pegasus focuses on issues that had yet to be openly dealt with at its time in the show’s chronology – possibly because all of the key moments are witnessed by a character we never see again. There’s a lot of exposition on the origins of the human cylons, and there’s even a glimpse of the first hybrid. Kara’s role in the film is kind of ancillary in comparison to her normal spot at the center of attention, but it sheds an unsettling light on the course of the rest of the series. As if it wasn’t clear enough already, there is something seriously wonky about this girl. Most of our other characters fall even farther off the radar. After Baltar’s painfully long and boring trial, he is completely MIA, and you’re not going to hear any complaints from me. The whole “suddenly cylon” crew is also absent, as are President Roslin and Sharon (except for a minute or so of screen time a piece).

As everyone now knows, the first half of Battlestar Galactica‘s fourth and final season has been pushed back to April. What you may not have heard is that creator Ron Moore posted a cryptically pessimistic blog entry about the apparently uncertain chances of the show re-starting production if the writer’s strike drags on too long. It’s a thought too scary to even entertain, but now you all have another reason to pray that the TV gods unleash doves, olive branches and free-flowing web residuals during Monday’s talks. Delays and doubts aside, Razor is well worth the wait. It satisfies that BSG-craving grumble in your tummy and whets your appetite for new episodes – whenever they might be.

Battlestar Galactica: Razor premieres Saturday at 9pm on Sci Fi and the DVD will be released on December 4th

Eureka is a poorly marketed show. It isn’t a surprise considering it airs on Sci Fi, the network more concerned with promoting its comical made-for-TV movies than its acclaimed series. It would be easy for anyone who’s seen an ad for Eureka to assume that it’s just an updated version of The Andy Griffith Show with a tongue-in-cheek supernatural twist. No offense intended, but that’s hardly an enticing pitch for me.

Despite those reservations, and Sci Fi’s general buffoonery, they did get me to tune in last night – if only to catch the first promo for Battlestar Galactica’s TV-movie/pseudo-season premiere, Razor (more on that in a moment). As for Eureka, it turns out that it’s neither overly campy nor an hour of high jinks focused on laser-guns and levitation. It’s kind of like a more whimsical version of the X-Files, except everything happens in one town and most everyone is dealing with soapy romantic pickles. Apparently last season’s finale set up this run to be much darker and emotionally charged than it had been previously. And if the little tease at the end of last night’s premiere was any indication, they’re staying on course. My interest is officially piqued.

Ok, down to business: I wasn’t expecting much from last night’s sneak peak at the forthcoming Battlestar flick (read: long, non-linear episode), and not much is what I got. With just 30 seconds worth of clips, at least 10 of which I believe were from previous episodes, Ron Moore & co reaffirm what we already know: the film will focus on the Battlestar Pegasus in the wake of the cylon attack, Admiral Cain will be back and she will still be grumpy and possibly even more of a lesbian. If that didn’t sum it up enough for you, here it is…

(Everything that pops up after the jump is laden with spoilers, so if you haven’t seen last night’s

For the last few weeks TV critics fortunate enough to obtain screeners of last night’s Battlestar Galactica season finale, “Crossroads Part II,” have been promising that the last 10 minutes of the episode would more than make up for the relatively spotty season. Those kind enough not to spoil, but too cruel to leave well enough alone, teased that the final words uttered before the credits rolled, in particular, would blow our frakking minds. And that they did. But right now, with so many new questions raised, I’m more concerned with the five words said after the show ended: “Battlestar Galactica returns in 2008.”

2008?! With four of the final five Cylons revealed, the President inching towards death yet again, the location of earth about to be revealed and Kara Thrace’s supposed fulfillment of her special destiny, how can anyone possibly think that my poor heart can stand a full year’s hiatus. Silly Sci-Fi, it’s not HBO, it’s TV! But I digress and resign to dissecting the minutia of what I have been given.

“The Crossroads” kept with the running flaw of the third season and spent far too much time focusing on Baltar. We get it. He’s wily, he’s an anti-hero and who doesn’t love the way British people say “butterfingers”? I just can’t understand their insistence that the outcome of his trial had to be this season’s watershed. It’s just not that compelling. With hardly anywhere to take his character, his abduction by his cult following offers hope that he might soon drink the Kool-Aid.

Last week’s suspicions were kinda confirmed that the four hearing music wafting through the walls of Galactica are in fact Cylons who only needed to hear a particularly metal rendition of Dylan’s “All Along the Watchtower” to achieve self-realization. As for their identities, none are super-surprising, aside from Anders who just seems too boring to come into his own subplot.

So if those four are actually Cylons, and one still remains, why weren’t they drawn by Dylan into the strange hexagonal room to meet with their pseudo-robotic brethren? Could it be because they were too busy defying death, zooming around the galaxy, and showing up in the last two minutes (looking particularly ethereal) like our not-so departed Kara Thrace? I had no idea how they were going to bring her back, and since it wasn’t explained at all, I still don’t. But I couldn’t imagine that the season would have ended without the reappearance of Starbuck. Her death was too silly and quick to justify, so it’s nice to see she’s still around in some capacity. Her mysterious return and ensuing announcement that she’s actually been to earth is more of a cliffhanger than anyone could have anticipated.

Naysayers will say nay, and adoring zealots will worship blindly, but the way they ended the show by expanding the frame to show the looming battle between humans and Cylons, the whole galaxy, and then super-zoom to earth, showing us for the first time that it actually exists… was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. So while we still don’t know much, we do know that when Battlestar Galactica is wearing its game face, it isn’t just best show on television, it’s the most entertaining thing you could dream of watching. Wake me up in 2008.

With a generic emo-ballad throbbing in the background, Apollo’s mousey, uninteresting wife trudges through the familiar washed-out desert while her voiceover complains about having to risk her life to save her husband’s mistress. Nobody can really blame her for being upset, but nobody really cares either. The looming threat of nuclear holocaust for half of the cast at the hands of their own leader, yet another Cylon standoff and a sun on the verge of exploding over all of them go completely unmentioned. They do know why people are watching, right?

Though the folks at NBC-Universal marketing clearly don’t, the show’s creators remain perfectly synced with the fans. This week’s return may not have shown the Galactic crew the yellow-brick-road to Earth, but with one longstanding conflict finally concluding, a newer one wrapping up surprisingly soon and the uninteresting love quadrangle taking a backseat to the action, it’s hard to imagine anyone was at all unsatisfied at the end of the hour.

In one of the most Sharon-centric episodes of the series yet, she forces Helo to shoot her, sending her back to the Cylon fleet for the first time since defecting in the first season so that she can find her baby. Her confusing devotion to Galactica and humanity remain in tact as she (alongside a curiously helpful Caprica Six) navigates the Base Star and once again confronts her evil twin of sorts, Boomer. After Sharon’s Cylon-status turned out to be the big reveal at the end of the miniseries, excitement soon turned to frustration as Boomer Sharon’s extremely slow realization and ensuing shame-spiral played out like an after school special about a girl embarrassed over her first period. When the other Sharon, who knew she was a Cylon the entire time, slowly grew to realize there was more humanity in her than she thought, the character (though a different incarnation) was once again captivating. That is why it is so satisfying to see her almost completely take over the role and so fun to see Number Six snap Boomer’s neck; villainous Sharon and deeply conflicted Sharon are useless.

We know Boomer isn’t gone. Though we may not see it, she’s popping up in the Cylon hot tub in a brand new identical body. It’s hard to kill off a character when that character has an unknown number of copies and each one is essentially immortal – but apparently it’s not impossible. Lucy Lawless’s tenure as D’Anna, the self-righteous, power-hungry and “ultimately flawed” Cylon came to an end just as soon as she was enlightened to the identity of the final five models. Finally as annoyed by her as I’ve been, the other Cylons decided D’Anna was just too much of a loose cannon and put every copy of her in cold storage before she had the chance to fill us in on which Galactica crewmember is our secret-Cylon.

Dee does find her way to Starbuck, doing an impressive job of fixing the wrecked ship by fiddling with a few wires. The rest of the crew on the algae planet capture Baltar in the temple, and overzealous editing finds everyone safely back on Galactica, just in time for the ship to jump away as the Supernova engulfs the stage of the last three episodes. The ambiguous “Eye of Jupiter” sort of points the way to Earth and definitely points to something strange about Starbuck.

The rest of the third season is making lofty promises with at least one mystery Cylon finally coming out of the closet, Baltar and Six both aboard Galactica, Starbuck’s rumored/confirmed departure potentially changing the nature of the program completely and almost no chance of having to endure another threesome involving Lucy Lawless (please, no flashbacks!). And if Sci Fi would ditch the schmaltzy melodramatic commercials, I might be looking forward to it a little more.