There are a lot of things about Battlestar I can buy into that, if it WEREN'T this show, would have made me turn the channel seasons and seasons ago. It's good, and intriguing, and it gets all sorts of slack from me.
However, my faith in Ron Moore and Battlestar in general notwithstanding, I had to pause the thing and take a quick palette-cleansing breath when Jon Fucking Hodgman showed up as a surgeon. (EDIT: That "fucking" was borne from frustration - Hodgman's one of my radio heroes, just oddly situated on a space ship.)
I didn't have a problem when Nana Visitor showed up to guide Roslin through her cancerific sick bay stay and conveniently died because Visitor is, after all, an actor who (whenever she gets work these days) plays characters not named, say, Nana Visitor. Believing Hodgman is anybody other than Hodgman, however, takes a willing suspension of disbelief waaaaay more powerful than mine. If it wasn't such an intriguing episode that Hodgman realistically only takes up a minute of in two discrete chunks, I would've been more ticked off, but I can't help the feeling that Hodgman got somebody to do him a solid for the sheer, series-ending please-oh-please-let-me-be-a-part-of-thi
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The problem with Dollhouse, from what I can tell from the only episode to have aired so far, is that dumb actors have a hard time playing smart, and smart actors have a hard time playing dumb. Eliza Dushku has been asked to play both types in one show, and while she's expert at pulling off one she's completely incapable of convincingly portraying the other. Unless she gets dumped into someone else's body at some point (I would get Amanda Peet to do it, or Mary Louise Parker 10 years ago if time travel were involved, but what the hell do I know) I don't predict I'm going to be on-board this particular raft for for very long.
Then again...it's Whedon. Anything's possible.