The Boys: Cherry

 "You're not the hero of this story..."

The second episode is, if anything, even better than the first as both Hughie aStarlight continue to disciver how deeply twisted is this world, with its cynically corporate and utterly immoral superheroes- and the whole thing manages to be great fun while this is happenning. It's all very, very Garth Ennis.

The plots drive forward perfectly while developing the themes. Starlight manages to get back at the pathetic Deep after last episode's #MeToo moment, but proceeds to get in trouble for stopping a rape without permission. And her first official patrol (with the Deep) proves to be a cynically stage-managed affair.

Meanwhile, Madalyn (Played by Jennifer McFly!) cynically and deliciously blackmails a senator in her ongoing plan to take over the US military, and seems to have a disturbing relationship with breast milk fetishist Homelander, who proves to be just as cynical and amoral as them all. This story may have an obvious political point, but doesn't forget to be darkly funny while making it. That awkward scene with A Train and the kid with cancer is magnificent.

Hughie, though, is truly dropped in the deep end. yes, his plot strand this episode consists of wonderful black humour as he, the now even more mysterious Butcher and the intriguing Frenchie spend most of the episode working out how to kill Translucent. There's an excellent dialogue between Hughie and Translucent which, I suspect, points towards the arc we can expect as he slowly morphs into a kind of hero. Or not. There's also a nice scene with him impotently punching a wall, showing very much that he's no superhero. And, of course, he ends by popping his kill cherry.

Translucent's death, though (by ass bomb, which is genius), is hilarious. I'm loving this.

The Boys: The Name of the Game

 "What do I look like?"

"Like you're starring in the porn version of The Matrix."

This is something Mrs Llamastrangler and I have just decided to start watching... and it's rather good. I have no knowledge of the original comic books by Garth Ennis (whom I know well from Preacher- and no, I haven't seen that series yet), but this is certainly very much reminiscent of Watchmen, at least superficially.

This is, essentially, a world where there are superheroes... yet, beyond the surface, those superheroes are amoral,  money grabbing, corporate bastards who behave like the very worst kinds of rock stars in the days before punk, and worse. We have two POV characters through whose eyes we see this world. The first is Hughie, whose girlfriend is gruesomely killed by speedster A-Train in suspicious yet covered-up circumstances and who, while struggling against a history of meek unambition, strives to get justice. We also have Anna, a privincial superhero who achieves her dream of joining the Justice Lea... er, the Seven... and ends up sexually abused in a shockingly #MeToo moment. These people are above the law, and it stinks.

We also have the awesomely sweary New Zealander Butcher, who enlists Hughie in his quest to encover the superheroes' many transgression. This is a superb basic concept, and an admirably successful first episode which succinctly introduces the many characters while balancing humour and tragedy superbly. More please.

Torchwood: Combat

“I didn’t want saving.”

The first rule is: you do not talk about Combat. The second rule is: YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT COMBAT. But nobody tells me what to do. I’m a rebel, me. I live life right out there on the edge.

This is our first and so far only script by Noel Clarke, which reminds me I must get around to watching Kidulthood sometime. It’s much better than I remembered; bloody brilliant in fact. And once again there’s a lot of story arc stuff, some of which passed me by the first time round. Not the Gwen / Rhys stuff, of course. Their relationship hits a real low here; “What’s happening to us, Gwen?” asks a despairing Rhys, just before things start to get worse. Even Jack is warning Gwen, not exactly without hypocrisy, that she should take a bit more care of her personal life, but she doesn’t get it: “Rhys will get over it. He always does.”

Things don’t get better; Gwen has to give the bad news to a bereaved wife and immediately gets snapped at by a particularly depressed and nasty Owen (of whom much later, obviously). He surpasses even his own history of nasty putdowns with “I was getting tired of your fuck-tricks anyway”. It’s clearly over between them.

And then, the climax: Gwen confesses her infidelity to Rhys. His reaction is to say “But you wouldn’t do that,” bless him. But Gwen makes her confession meaningless by revealing that she’s drugged Rhys with retcon, desperate for forgiveness. Ever since Gwen joined Torchwood it’s been changing her for the worse; this is rock bottom. And this is where she discovers Torchwood is no replacement for her life with Rhys. Symbolically, she turns up at the Hub with a pizza in a parallel scene to the one in Everything Changes. But this time the team aren’t there for her and she sits alone, crying.

Anyway, Owen. On the one hand the character is so unlikeable and shallow I have no sympathy for him, even after what’s just happened with Diane. But on the other hand I suspect I’m not expected to. And on the, er, other hand (assume a hypothetical three-armed alien creature, or something), Burn Gorman has been putting in brilliant performances right through the series and is truly outstanding here. It’s a staggering achievement to make such a git of a character so compelling. Especially as we start off with him just being a bit of a mardy git and having a bit of a foreshadow-y fight in a bar with Hot Chip’s “Over and Over” playing in the background. How very 2006.

Also very 2006, and this time not in a good way, is the Crazy Frog ringtone found on the phone of the corpse found by Tosh and Jack. I’d managed to repress my memory of that particular trauma, and now it’s all coming back. Damn you, Torchwood. Fortunately the plot is gripping enough for me to almost forgive this. And once Owen deigns to actually joining in with it by going undercover, things start getting really good.

Owen meets Mark Lynch, who seems to like him in the false belief that he’s found a fellow Nietzchean wanker to be all nihilistic and laddish with. Mark is a fascinating and well-written character, though; for someone with a basically shallow personality whose life revolves around arrogance, crap beer, fighting and cod philosophy he’s made to seem quite compelling. Oh, and we get another line about something coming, “out there, in the darkness”. Gosh, do you reckon this might be a subtle piece of foreshadowing?

Interesting to hear the speech from Mark about the world having no meaning without, among other things, “faith”. On the one hand this fits in with the pessimistic pseudo-atheism of the series, but on the other it hints at a possible religious meaning intended by the author. Either way, it’s a superficially shallow philosophy at the surface level intended by Mark but asks interesting questions about the series themes deeper down.

The stuff with the Weevils and the cage may not be particularly original (Angel did this a year previously), but it’s just a McGuffin; this is another story where theme and character are the main focus. And Owen’s apparent death wish is a very interesting development.

Another interesting point; Jack allows Janet the Weevil to run loose as bait, at the risk of killing innocent bystanders, although Tosh and Ianto both object. And Tosh later calls Jack on his treatment of the Weevil. Once again, we’re shown that Torchwood may be our protagonists but they’re certainly not heroes.

Excellent stuff, the best Torchwood yet. 5/5.