Holy Flying Circus (2011 TV Film)

"You're not the nicest man in the world; you're a very naughty boy!"

I know- odd time to blog it. But I'm off work with a hammy leg and I needed something to watch, having Sky plussed this month's ago.

It's sobering to note that, in a sense, 2011 is another age; BBC 4 used to makes its own one-off dramas back then, invariably excellent. This, I think, was one of the best.

This is a comedic dramatisation of the initial reception to Monty Python's Life of Brian, leading up to and beyond the notorious "debate" between John Cleese and Michael Palin on one side and a sneering Malcolm Muggeridge and a waspish queen of a bishop on the other. Naturally, the focus is on Cleese (Darren Boyd steals the show here and Palin (Charles Edwards). Cleese is played, for comic relief, as Basil Fawlty, but his abrasiveness and annoying tendencies are leavened by the fact that he's always, always right, and votes Lib Dem... er, Liberal, to boot. I particularly love the blatantly anachronistic bit about why the Pythons didn't go after Muslims.

Palin is, of course, portrayed as the nicest main in the world, the audience identification character and only semi-serious bit of a drama long on surreal and humorous assaults on the fourth wall, although his wife is portrayed, magnificently, by Rufus Jones, who also plays Terry Jones. This is a decision of sheer genius, given Terry J's habit of playing the "pepperpots", but it does lead  to a troubling my oestrogen-lite cast.

Steve Punt plays Eric Idle as a money-grabbing bastard, but the other Pythons recede into the background of what is a magnificently silly drama. It looks very 1979, and has some sharp points to make about both then and now; the bombastic producer in 1979 is contrasted with the Head of BBC 4. Both are rather less prim than the splendid Head of Rude Words, but the point about BBC bureaucracy, with all these unnecessary heads of this and that, is well made.

The debate itself is based on true events; the bishop and Muggeridge were as smug and childish as the drama shows, showing exactly the sort of undergraduate humour that the bishop effects to dismiss. It's quite realistic that the public, even the People's Church of St Sophia, would side with them.

This is really quite brilliant, and it's a crying shame that BBC4 won't be doing any more.

Torchwood: Miracle Day (Part Seven)

“I’m sorry, Angelo. But this is the story of my life.”

Another episode from Jane Espenson. It’s brilliant, as you’d expect, and moves the plot on quote a bit while focusing on the characters of Jack and Gwen, who have become somewhat neglected of late in their own show.

We start with a flashback to 1927, and a bunch of Italian immigrants at Ellis Island; it’s pretty much obligatory to mention The Godfather, Part II here. Jack is here on some sort of mission for Torchwood, but finds the time to meet (and seduce) an immigrant called Angelo Colasanto.

Meanwhile, in 2011, Gwen arrives back in Venice, and abruptly calls Jack outside, immediately tying him up and putting him in the back of a car, in line with her instructions from last episode. Her family is in danger; it’s very clear that she has absolutely no qualms about doing what has to be done.

In 1927, Jack gives Angelo some advice: he’s to spend the last two years before the Wall Street Crash saving money. But “Don’t worry. It gets better. Then it gets worse again.” All this must seem rather unnecessarily mysterious to any new viewers in America who may be unaware of Jack’s backstory, but it’s nice to get a bit more on Jack’s long past. These sorts of flashbacks are, after all, a Torchwood tradition.

There’s a long sex scene between two of them, the first extended gay sex scene, or sex scene of any kind, yet seen in the entire Whoniverse. The two of them connect afterwards in away which makes it clear that Jack is after a relationship, although not a permanent one. His immortality and his normal sex drive are not good, er, bedfellows; deep down he must know that he’s hurting everyone with whom he has more than a one night stand, including Ianto, of course. But, on the other hand, he’s a human being with human feelings and urges. It’s complicated.

Some lines from Angelo remind us that this is the 1920s, and that being gay was rather more complicated back then, a fact for which Jack has little understanding or empathy. We also have the two of them observing a wedding ceremony, at which Jack comments that the beauty of it is the commitment in the here and now, whatever may happen later. Of course, the only possible purpose for this scene is for it to come back and bite him later.

In 2011, Jack wakes up. Not only is he being kidnapped and probably taken to his death by probably his closest remaining friend, but he gets a tongue-lashing as well. Gwen is convinced that the whole “miracle” situation is the result of something Jack has done at some point in his “long bloody life”. As we shall see, she’s right, but under the circumstances it seems a little harsh.

1927 again, and Angelo becomes mixed up in Jack’s mission. At first he seems to be doing a spot of bootlegging (why so many people wanted to emigrate to a country you couldn’t even get a bloody drink is beyond me!!!), but it becomes clear that his real motive is to make contact with a bunch of local gangsters and learn the location of a certain box in a certain warehouse. And if I hadn’t mentioned The Godfather: Part 2 earlier, I would have had to have mentioned it now.

As per his usual habits, Jack tries to get rid of Angelo at this point. But Angelo persuades him to keep him around as a “companion”; Jack directly compares himself to the Doctor here. This makes sense. He’s certainly seemed a little more Doctorish of late.

The two of them set off, find the crate, and uncover its contents; a nasty alien worm, a parasite, set to infect FDR ready to drive him mad during his second term, throwing Earth’s history off course. This is all courtesy of the Trickster’s Brigade. Yes, that’s right. A Sarah Jane Adventures continuity reference!

Jack dissolves the nasty little thing and the two of them scarper. But then things go wrong; Jack is killed and Angelo is captured. Except that Jack gets better, while Angelo spends a year in prison.

Back to 2011, and Gwen is now angry at herself. She feels that Torchwood was “toxic from day one”, that she was horrible to Rhys, that she was basically motivated by how important she felt, and that even the deaths of her friends just made her feel more important, and unique, and “better” than them for surviving, a thought which now horrifies her. She warns Jack that she will kill him, if her daughter’s life depends on it. He, on the other hand, however long he’s lived, doesn’t want to die. He warns her that he feels the same way, and they understand each other. This is damn good writing, with the importance lying in what remains unsaid.

1928, and Jack meets Angelo outside the prison upon his release. But things have changed; Angelo saw him die, and is freaked out. So much so, in fact, that he believes him to be the Devil, and stabs him to death. Worse, he shows Jack to others, and soon there are a large group of people in Little Italy who see that he’s immortal, killing him again and again, and seeming to take samples of his freely flowing blood. The word “miracle” is used. The broad shape of what is happening in 2011 now becomes a lot clearer.

Angelo eventually feels remorseful and rescues him, but not before three mysterious behatted men seem to make a deal on the terms by which they “own” him. He even washes Jack’s feet, in a rather embarrassing piece of symbolism. But Jack’s had enough; as soon as he retrieves his coat and vortex manipulator from their hiding place, he coldly dumps Angelo and disappears.

2011, and Gwen and Jack make their rendezvous with the mysterious people behind the contact lenses. These people turn out to be Nana Visitor and a couple of underlings. Suddenly, a sniper’s spot appears; Rex and Esther have discovered the text on the contact lenses on the monitor screen and have been waiting.  Nana Visitor and co are apprehended, while Gwen’s family, in South Wales, are freed by Andy and his fellow coppers. They’ve won. Except… Nana Visitor claims that nothing has changed; Jack is still coming with them, and no coercion is needed. Because Angelo is waiting, and has been for a very long time…

Torchwood: Miracle Day (Part Five)

“Who’s with Anwen?”

“No one. I left her with petrol and a cigarette lighter.”

That opening text thing is starting to get annoying, but never mind. This episode is superb; tense, fast-moving and really pushing the overall story into another stage, with some unexpected shocks.

Vera Juarez is told that the medical panels are over; their conclusions are to be used for establishing legislation defining the three “categories of life”, an ominous phrase. Vera is sufficiently appalled to immediately phone a rather smug Rex. This has to be stopped, and she demands to be involved.

After an off-screen journey right across America, Vera arrives in Venice and meets the team. This is a good opportunity for exposition, and that’s exactly what we get: category one means you’re so badly injured or sick that you’re unable to function yet unable to die; category three means you’re pretty much healthy; and category two is anything that lies in-between, a particularly murky and subjective category. And yet anyone defined as category one or two is sent to one of these mysterious camps. Oddly enough, this all seems to be a result of the medical panels in Washington DC, but seems to have been implemented throughout much of the world, including Europe. Er, not sure about that.

Gwen is off back to Wales to rescue her dad, and her scenes with Rhys are some of the few moments of humour in this uncharacteristically sombre script from Jane Espenson. She has an important mission to undertake, as her mother reminds her in no uncertain terms. The conspiracy runs deep; Phicorp, a private company, is apparently taking over the entire NHS!!!

The scene between Esther and Jack is a nice little character moment. Esther is still struggling with her confidence, as we also see in the following scene, but we also later see her carrying out her mission perfectly effectively. The subsequent discussion is fascinating, too; as Rex points out, there’s no objective way of deciding which category he belongs to. It’s an arbitrary decision, to be made by those with the power to do so. As Vera says, no one should have that much power.

It seems that every camp is equipped with “modules”, which are hidden from view in every photograph. The group quickly plan to infiltrate one, with Rex being taken away in an ambulance complete with hidden recording equipment. I love Jack’s parting words to him!

Oswald Danes, meanwhile, is to speak at a sinister-sounding “Miracle Rally”. Bill Pullman and Lauren Ambrose again show themselves to be the two best actors in this series as Oswald and Jilly Kitzinger argue over the contents of his speech.

Rex discovers the camps, inside, are cold and dark, and that there doesn’t seem to be enough room for the apparent demand. Meanwhile, Vera, posing as a kind of inspector, infiltrates the camp where Rex is being held, where she encounters the rather arrogant and unpleasant Colin Maloney, with his sneer and his golf buggy. And she becomes increasingly horrified by the conditions she finds.

Gwen, in parallel scenes, finds her dad at a similar camp in South Wales. A lot of care has been taken to make this look very different from its counterpart in California- the lighting is much darker, and the camera is certainly much more hyperactive. The atmosphere is unbelievably tense as Gwen and Rhys try to get Gwen’s trusting dad out of the camp. But catastrophe happens from an unexpected quarter; the stress gives Geraint another heart attack. Escape is now simply impossible and Geraint, now no longer conscious, is reclassified to category one. As we shall see, this is going to have horrible consequences.

Vera shows her inexperience with this kind of undercover work as the increasingly awful conditions she uncovers lead her to lose her cool and start a shouting match with Maloney. Tragically, she threatens to have him arrested and prosecuted, showing a touching faith in the authorities which will very shortly turn out to have been horrifyingly misplaced. Maloney, who has consistently exhibited psychopathic tendencies, responds by shooting her, several times. This is a massive shock, but it’s not the first time that a member (sort of) of Torchwood has been unexpectedly and cruelly killed in action. If the word “killed” is appropriate, that is. Things look ominous, though; after a messy cover-up, Vera is quickly put into a module, with the “category ones”.

Jack has been spending this time following Danes, and we get a scene in which he urges him to instead read a speech of his own devising, exposing Phicorp. Sadly, though, pairing John Barrowman with an actor of Pullman’s calibre doesn’t exactly make him look good. He’s a competent actor, although his range is limited, but he doesn’t really belong in this exalted company. Certainly, Pullman brings off the speech magnificently. Danes delivers the message intended by Phicorp, but in his own way.

We end with the shocking revelation that the “modules” are ovens, and that the camps are extermination camps. It’s the Holocaust all over again, on a massive scale. Suddenly Torchwood is dealing with some very, very big themes.

Torchwood: Miracle Day (Part Two)

“The next six hours are gonna be filled by boredom, followed by monotony…”

Last episode, inevitably, had a lot of introductions and exposition to get through. However well these things are done (RTD does them very well indeed), such episodes are too easily dismissed if allowances are not made for the complicated job such episodes have to do. Fortunately no such allowances are needed here- we’ve only reached the second episode but the series is flying. This instalment is exciting, action-packed, witty and dammed entertaining. I’ve not seen anything written by Doris Egan before (although my good friend Wikipedia informs me that she has worked on stuff like House and Smallville), but on this evidence I’m bloody impressed.

We start with Jack and Gwen being, er, rendited(?) by Rex, representative of a foreign power which is riding roughshod over our national sovereignty. Grr. Annoyingly, though, Rex is not only very cool indeed but has managed to up the coolness quotient considerably from last episode.

It’s a Rhys-lite episode as Rex sends him off back home (no doubt so he can brood Welshly and come up with some sort of plan in a later episode). But from here on the episode, although admirably balancing light and dark in its tone, is where we start to burrow into what will no doubt end up as a massive CIA conspiracy. We finally get to meet the mysterious Mr Friedkin, and he’s… Newman from Seinfeld (Wayne Knight). I find it impossible to judge his performance- it’s unfair, I know, but he’s an actor I associate very strongly with one part and it’s hard to accept him playing anyone else. Hopefully that’ll fade.

We get one quiet moment between Gwen and Jack, establishing their close relationship (which does not go unnoticed by Rex) and, importantly, acknowledging that Jack’s been travelling and hinting that there’s something he needs to atone for. It’s not dwelt upon so as to alienate new viewers, but it’s important that the enormity of what he’s done is acknowledged. Still, aside from that it’s all action-cum-thriller fun. And I suspect Jacks point about morphic fields will prove important.

The conspiracy begins to show itself in both story threads as both Esther and Rex find themselves excluded from the world on which they’ve relied, and forced to adopt the unfamiliar role of outsider- although I suspect this would be easier for Rex than for Esther, who seems very much an establishment person. The exchange about her always maintaining a neutral viewpoint and having to eventually pick sides is, I suspect, commenting on her character arc.

Oswald Danes, meanwhile, gets some interesting development, again played superbly by Bill Murray. His deeply felt regret, live on television, seems all the more genuine because of its suddenness. Danes seems genuinely relieved to be able to say these things; before, he was “scared”. This is an acting masterclass, it really is. There’s so much riding on Pullman’s performance, and he really delivers.

The subsequent scene in the lift, with gorgeous yet sinister PR lady Jilly Kittinger, is brilliantly written and performed, and I’m not just saying that because the scene confirms all my prejudices about PR! Pullman is brilliant, again.

Dr. Juarez gets a much meatier role this week, showing herself to be a truly awesome individual. Not only does she completely rearrange the way her own hospital deals with the new reality, but she decides to gatecrash a high level panel, only to find that they’re desperate for as many doctors as they can get. Also, of course, she’s still in touch with Rex. Again, I’m sure this will prove important to the plot.

There are some fascinating and terrifying ideas thrown about here; the sick, without dying, are simply incubators for bacteria. This being so, antibiotics will last for mere months as resistances develop faster. Worse, people still age. Everyone ultimately faces horrible physical suffering- the classical allusion is entirely appropriate.

But the main stuff happening in this episode is on the plane, where Oswald has Jack and Gwen tied to chairs with only himself, a sinister CIA lady, a stewardess and a definitely-not-gay steward (a bit excessive on the staffing front?) for company. Of course, we know that sinister CIA lady is going to try and kill the now mortal Jack- the fact that it’s so blatantly obvious is why it’s so fun- and the ensuing hi-jinks surrounding the poisoning are hilarious and great. I love the way Dr Juarez makes sensible use of the array of medical talent available to her, the slapstick, that punch by Gwen (“I’m Welsh!”), and Eve Myles’ general awesomeness.

Esther, until now a tenacious but essentially loyal CIA agent, finds herself ruthlessly cut off for Knowing Too Much, and makes a magnificent escape, flirting her way through the final checkpoint on her way to the end of the episode. Dr Juarez, more sinisterly, finds herself talking to Jilly Kittinger while having a ciggy, and doesn’t entirely reject her suggestion. That’s what I’ve missed about smoking these last six-and-a-half years- the social element of having one outside…

Jilly Kitzinger represents Phicorp, who are clearly either a big bad or a red herring. They manufacture painkillers, and stand to benefit materially from the new situation. We now have a fair few intriguing plot threads bubbling away nicely.

We get a carefully choreographed climax, with Esther phoning Rex to warn him as the plane lands; they’re after him too. Both Esther and Rex are now persona non grata. There’s nothing for it but to join forces with Gwen and Jack and fight their way out.

Oh, and I love Gwen’s comments on US immigration! Lovely people, the Americans, very hospitable, open and friendly. I have to make an exception of their immigration officers, though, who in my experience are a bunch of humourless bastards who seem to have declared war against their own country’s tourist industry…!

Torchwood: Miracle Day (Part One)

“Wales is insane!”

Now that Torchwood has started airing in the UK I’ll be reviewing it pretty much as it airs for the first time- hopefully in a day or two at least. Blake’s 7 will continue for the rest of the week; though; series three will probably start on Sunday.

It’s a dramatic start; Oswald Danes, a convicted murderer and child rapist, about to be judicially killed. It looks painful. Next we get introduced to CIA operative Rex, who’s pleased his career is going to benefit from a colleague’s wife contracting cancer. Nice. He’s talking on the phone to another new character, the tenacious Esther Drummond. There’s also another apparent regular, Dr. Vera Juarez, who understandably spends much of this episode reacting.

Oh, and there’s Gwen and Rhys, now quietly living in a farmhouse with their baby daughter. They’re still the beating heart of the show and this is completely and utterly the Torchwood we know and love.

It’s hard to judge this episode, really, as it understandably consists mostly of set-up. But set-up should be judged on its own terms, and this is a typically assured example of the beast from good old RTD. All of the new characters feel like real people very, very quickly, there’s plenty of action, and it’s all as pacey as ever. It’s also extremely well directed by Bharat Nalluri of Life on Mars fame.

The central concept is great, too- suddenly, everyone is immortal- and as yet we have no idea where any of this is going. People still get sick, they still get old, they still get injured, but they can’t die, not even when blown up, or when their head is removed. And we have no idea whether people, including Rex, who have survived certain death, will just drop dead if this situation should end.

Our new American viewers are introduced to Wales via some sweeping vistas of the countryside, and we see Gwen and Rhys’ idyllic, if isolated lifestyle. It’s not a life that this urban person would fancy, and I do wonder how they’re supporting themselves. But it’s established that Rhys, domestic as ever, is extremely determined that Gwen’s extremely dangerous life should never again intrude on their lives, especially as they now have a baby daughter. And there’s a real potential for terrible things to happen if they ever get found, as their reaction to an innocent knock on the door makes clear. Except… the last shot of the scene makes us wonder whether those two “tourists” are as innocent as they appear.

There’s a great scene with Oswald Danes insisting that, as his sentence has been successfully carried out, he should be released, or he will sue the Governor of whatever state he’s in, personally, with a good chance of winning. As we later discover, this works, and he’s freed on parole. Bill Pullman nails it here; I’ve never seen him play such an unlikeable character before, but he manages to be both convincing and charismatic here. It’s a superb performance.

Esther, meanwhile, is following up a mysterious email about a hush-hush old British organisation called Torchwood, which is “classified under the 456 regulations”. Her search for scarce information on this organisation leads her to some documents, including photographs of Gwen and Captain Jack Harkness. It’s at this point that Jack arrives, and saves her from a mysterious (and, as we’ll find out, unfortunate) suicide bomber by grabbing her and jumping out of the window. Esther now learns that it’s Jack who’s been destroying all Torchwood records to protect Gwen, and that Torchwood is a kind of defunct British X-Files. Unfortunately for her Jack has, of course, used retcon.

Jack is carrying out investigations of his own, though (at one point posing as “Owen Harper” of the FBI- nice!), and Gwen can’t help but be drawn into things. It starts with her dad suffering a heart attack, leading her and Rhys to travel to Cardiff. Here she learns about Miracle Day from now-Sergeant Andy. Apparently TV and Internet reception is not much good in West Wales and, in spite of owning such a nice house, neither she nor Rhys can afford a smartphone. It’s a nice scene, though and, as ever with RTD, the little touches of the family’s relationship are wonderful.

Sneaking away with Andy to do some investigation (which Rhys has declared verboten), Gwen soon discovers that the “miracle” is only affecting humans, and that population growth is such that society has four months until it collapses. At this point we get a blazing row between her and Rhys, who doesn’t want his wife and daughter getting involved in any of this very, very dangerous stuff.

Esther’s forgotten the previous night’s events, but as soon as she (eventually) gets into work she’s handed a file which will, presumably, jog her memory. While speaking to Rex on the phone she discovers the connection between Miracle Day and Torchwood; that mysterious email arrived at exactly the same time as the last recorded death on the planet. With this, Rhys discharges himself out of hospital and, in some very amusing scenes, hops on a plane and comes to Blighty.

Using information on Gwen, who joined Torchwood in October 2006 (hmm… surely that doesn’t fit with the “one year ahead” continuity?), Rex manages to rather efficiently find out where Gwen lives. He’s not so clever with the Severn Bridge toll, though; why doesn’t he just take a detour and drive around it?

As soon as Rex finds the house, all Hell breaks loose. There’s an initial stand-off, but the still-injured Rex soon collapses. Tying him up doesn’t work, but soon they’re all faced with a bigger problem; a mysterious helicopter, here to assassinate them. This leads to much coolness, with Gwen holding a big gun in one arm and a baby in the other. But this is the point at which Jack turns up, and his gun is even bigger. Still, it’s Gwen who eventually blows up the helicopter. And that’s not the only way in which she’s one up on him; now she’s immortal, and seemingly he’s not.

Just as their troubles seem over, though, Rex has them all kidnapped by the police (including a reluctant Andy), ready to be taken to America...

Torchwood: Children of Earth (Day Three)

“John Frobisher’s a good man. And, better than that, he’s expendable.”

Blimey, it’s Trinity Wells again!

Last episode was getting the pieces into position; this time there’s a lot going on and lots are revealed. And in spite of some nice humorous moments courtesy of RTD and James Moran’s script, this is a tense and dramatic episode.

The gang are back together, and after a few minutes of The Real Hustle they can start to plan their fightback. And it’s an interesting fightback. The thefts are morally compromising in an obvious but arguably petty way, but Gwen’s use of Lois is arguably worse, especially in terms of Kantian morality, quite blatantly using another person as a means and not an end, if I can just be a pretentious git for a minute. Lois says “Giving you information is one thing, but that’s putting me right on the front line.” This talk of the “front line” means I can’t help but wonder if we’re looking at a parallel with the prime minister’s rather cowardly comments to Frobisher last episode. Instinctively I think not, but the parallels in the dialogue mentioning the “front line” are striking.

Meanwhile, Jack and Ianto are having another one of those conversations where Jack doesn’t quite open up as much as Ianto would like. They fail to get intimate in more ways than one, but everything’s ok because there’s talk about Jack watching Ianto grow old and die. This in no way tempts fate or indicates anything bad is going to happen to Ianto. I’m sure things will be fine.

We get hints at this point that Jack is morally compromised to a much greater degree than Gwen, as we get our first hint about his links to the incident in 1965.

Lois, on the other hand, is brave, heroic and incredibly resourceful. I suspect she won’t have a happy ending, not after Gwen offered her a potential job last episode. I love her way of getting a world-wearily resentful Bridget Spears to include her in the activity at Thames House. Spears’ “You’re not the first, you know,” speaks volumes about both her (repressed?) feelings for Frobisher and of course Frobisher himself.

The big moment is, of course, “We are here.” And the children pointing. This section is, once again, brilliantly shot. The visuals of the aliens hidden in the glass behind an opaque gas are superbly effective. Less is more. And the tension in Frobisher’s initial dialogue with the 456 is palpable. The long pauses, the subdued lighting, the slight hint of claws and the magnificence of Peter Capaldi give this scene such incredible power. Oh, and the vomiting. That too. And the magnificence of Peter Capaldi, every second he’s on screen, just can’t be emphasised enough.

It’s amusing to see the PM get a right good telling off from the military representative of UNIT and the USA (where have I seen the American actor from?), but of course the fallout is that the PM drops Frobisher even further in it. It’s clear from the conversation in the lift that Spears understands this.

But then we’re reminded that Frobisher is far from being a saint as he speaks on the phone to Jack who, we’ve already established, is equally compromised following the events of 1965. Yet, although each is able to threaten the other’s children, Frobisher knows that Jack won’t act on his threats “because you’re a better man than me.”

There’s just one short light-hearted interlude, in which we learn how you can do almost as many things with a pair of contact lenses as you can with a stopwatch, before we’re back to the heavy stuff. The 456, with their silences and monosyllabic comments, are sinister as hell. They seem to be colluding in the cover-up with Frobisher. Oh, and they want ten percent of all the children in the world. And just when we think things can’t get any worse, Clem forces Jack to tell the truth: he personally handed twelve kids over to the 456 back in 1965. I’m sure everyone watching had already worked it out, but it’s a powerful ending nonetheless.

Torchwood: Children of Earth (Day Two)

“If you’re the bad guys, why doesn’t it say that on your file? And, if you’re the good guys, who am I working for?”

RTD hands over to John Fay, whose dialogue (polished by RTD though it must be) doesn’t quite sparkle as much. This is still brilliant, though, much as it doesn’t actually advance the plot very far. It’s about the character moments, and the fun and fascination of seeing our heroes regroup from their lowest point until they’re ready to fight back.

We start with Ianto and Gwen, dirty, shocked, with the whole world suddenly against them. These scenes are brilliantly shot by Euros Lyn, and give a real sense of paranoia. We’re then quickly reminded that Frobisher, who is generally presented to us with sympathy, is the one who has ordered this cold-blooded assassination. And here’s the sinister Dekker again, revealing that the 456 have asked the British government to built something without telling them what it is. Things are going all A for Andromeda.

There’s comedy too, of course, not least with Tom Price being great, as usual, as PC Andy. I love his “I mean, we’re not going in there all guns blazing, are we?” followed by the clicking of the guns!

Gwen- and Rhys- are on the run, the enemy has eyes everywhere, and as both of their accounts have been frozen they can’t even withdraw any money. Everything between the two of them is great. They’re a fantastic couple, and I love Rhys’s lines. And that it’s his knowledge of the haulage industry that allows them to get down to That London. Better still is Gwen’s revelation that she’s pregnant. You just have to love the pair of them.

Ianto’s interaction with his family is great, too; it’s fab how everyone just rallies round. I love the army of chavs which distracts the government surveillance agents so that Ianto’s sister (what’s her actual name, he asked, knowing he’ll be googling it within minutes?) can sneak away to meet Ianto.

Oh, and there’s a scene early on where Ianto sees a copy of The Times. The wonders of the pause button tell me that it’s “Wednesday September 2009”. Aren’t all these present day Whoniverse stories supposed to be set one year in the future, then? Has someone much cleverer than me been keeping count to see if it all fits or not? Am I the only one sad enough to think about this? Don’t answer that! The pause button also shows Gwen’s date of birth at one point. She’s a year younger than me. I feel old.

There’s more ominous-sounding emphasis of the 456 only contacting the UK. And also more evidence of what an utter **** the prime minister is. His comments to Frobisher are toe-curling: All I’ve done is put you on the front line. That’s what the front line’s for, John. First to fall.”

And then… “We are coming… tomorrow!” it’s all going to kick off.

Questions about Jack that we’ve all wondered are answered here as the remaining bits of him gradually, painfully and horribly heal to become a living body. And his fate is horrible- encased inside a concrete block, fated to die painfully of asphyxiation again and again, a fate worthy of Dante’s Inferno, for all eternity. Or the rest of the episode, anyway.

Lois makes her fateful choice in meeting Gwen and Rhys, explaining to them that the Government really does want them dead, and literally committing treason on only her second day at work. This is a very big decision and a very big deal; the Official Secrets Act is a very serious thing. I can’t remember how this ends for her but, unfortunately, I suspect she’s going down. A shame, because she’s a good person who’s doing the right thing for the right reasons. I love that she approaches the whole thing like a PA!

Gwen and Ianto’s rescue mission, wrapping up the episode, fails as we knew it must, only for Ianto to save the day with a forklift truck. The gang are all back together, and next episode seems likely to be eventful…

Torchwood: Exit Wounds

“I’m gonna rage my way to oblivion! Why? Give me one good bloody reason why I shouldn’t. One good reason why I shouldn’t keep screaming.”

“Because you’re breaking my heart.”

Yes, that line up there made even stony hearted old me cry. And that takes some doing, I can tell you. The deaths of Tosh and Owen are brilliantly done, brilliantly acted and a real tribute to the characters. It’s just a shame that the season finale as a whole is just so…meh. See? I’m the sort of hip young thing who says “meh” all the time, I am.

The first few minutes, with John apparently wreaking havoc, are such fun. I love “their” song. What’s happened to James Marsters’ British accent though? He seems to be struggling with the vowels here. Still, he oozes charisma and is great so it’s not a huge problem. These scenes are enormous fun.

Unfortunately, things start to go wrong once Jack gets sent back to 27AD, and that, given the generally assumed birth date of you-know-who, is a particularly groan-inducing year in which to set a load of pretentious Christ symbolism in which Jack willingly undergoes some severe physical punishment. In fact, as soon as the caption with the year on it came up I groaned. For a caption just saying what the year is to provoke that reaction is quite an achievement.

Yes, as much hinted, Gray is back. And being played very badly. I had to raise an eyebrow during the burial scene, mind: we had a British actor doing an unconvincing American accent and an American actor doing an unconvincing British accent to carry the scene between them.

Aside from the pretentious Christ symbolism and the bad acting from Lachlan Nieboer, though, things are quite good. The stakes are fairly high and everyone gets something to do, even if it is a little convenient that there should be an emergency at the police station for Gwen, one at the hospital (with a Hoix!) for Owen and one at the Server Centre for Tosh. There are some nice touches throughout all this: Gwen once again showing what a great leader she is, Rhys’ pep talk (“You’re a bloody hero, Gwen!”), the dynamic between Rhys and PC Andy, which is particularly fun to see after what we learned in Adrift.

But then the shocks start coming. Tosh is shot! Captain Jack does a Tennant and says “I forgive you”. I think this is the point where I seriously started wondering whether this episode should be in the Guinness Book of Records for the most blatant example of the viewer being bludgeoned over the head with pretentious Christian allegories known to humanity. Even Bad Lieutenant wasn’t this bad.

Still, we get some nice scenes of Torchwood 1901, including a glimpse of one of our friends from last episode. Plus, Tosh is shot. And proceeds to be a hero, calmly guiding Owen through his own brave tasks even though she’s slowly bleeding to death. And the moments after they both realise Owen is definitely going to die are… wow. All their words are so loaded with multiple meanings, especially Owen’s “I’m really sorry”. And he even tells Tosh that “We missed each other. It was my fault. I didn’t… I didn’t notice until it was too late.” In the end, he dies calmly. Tosh dies in Jack’s arms, Gwen starts to cry and so do I, dammit.

And then Jack goes and spoils it all with his “It was my penance.” Aaargh!

Very good in parts, then, especially towards the end. But the Christ stuff and a badly acted villain drag it down to a 3/5.

As for the season as a whole, it averages exactly 4/5 from me, an improvement from the first.

Torchwood: Adrift

“Do you know what’s happened to you, Gwen? You’ve become hard.”


Back to traditional Torchwood values now; a Gwen episode, and the return of Sinister Torchwood. It feels odd after our varied diet of recent episodes, but then this is our first Chris Chibnall script for ages, which might be a factor.

We begin with a disappearance of a redshirt civilian, which symbolically happens on a bridge. This seems like the sort of thing which should really be some sort of trope, but I can’t think of any actual examples so it probably isn’t. Anyway, this leads us to the rest of the first two thirds of the episode, which plotwise consists of Gwen investigating a load of mysterious disappearances caused by the Rift alongside hints of a dirty Torchwood cover-up. There’s some nice character stuff to hang upon this, too; I like the development of Gwen and Andy here. They’re exes; that explains a lot. Also well done is the row between Gwen and Rhys (and their making up at the end- aaah!) and our first hint that a baby may eventually be on the cards.

Aside from a nicely light-hearted bit of shagging between Jack and Ianto (popular with many, I’m sure!), the regulars take a bit of a back seat to Gwen, who gets some good development in this episode. Once again we see how damn good she is as an investigator, and she’s been in Torchwood long enough for Andy’s accusations to hit home. Andy knows what he’s doing, of course; Gwen can see the truth of this and throws herself into the investigation to reconnect with her human side. Interestingly, as things turn out, this is the wrong thing to do. The conclusion, interestingly, seems to vindicate Jack’s cover-up, a nice reversal of what usually happens in such situations in TV science fiction. It’s not very X-Files at all.

Unfortunately, there are a couple of niggles with the plot; how come people taken by the Rift are eventually returned? How does that work then? And I somehow suspect that screaming for twenty hours out of every twenty-four is not a recognised psychiatric symptom. But the emotional beats feel right, and this is a nice little character piece for Gwen, and her personal supporting cast of Rhys and Andy. A decent 3/5.

Torchwood: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

“This is the entrance for tourists.”

“I remember the last time you said that…”

Well, serves me right, that does. There I go pretty much defending the reputation of Torchwood Series One by giving it some fairly positive write-ups, and then this episode comes along and effortlessly blows them out of this water. A Chris Chibnall script, too. On the evidence of this, he may sometimes drive people crazy but life is much more fun when he’s around.

The script sparkles and the fun pretty much never stops. Even the pre-titles sequence seems effortlessly perfect; the blowfish in a sports car high on cocaine, “Bloody Torchwood!”; the blowfish’s nicely put summary of every team member; Gwen’s newfound confidence and authority as the de facto leader of the team. And then Jack makes the perfect entrance, giving the sequence the perfect climax. Pun not intended but, hey, it fits.

There’s a bit of resentment, of course; Jack buggers off for a bit and then returns expecting to walk right back into his position. This is dealt with but, quite rightly, not taken too seriously. Already there seems to have been a quiet rethink about the team’s chemistry behind the scenes; this is a Torchwood team who actually like each other and probably won’t be shooting one another quite as often as we became accustomed to last season.

The directorial style reminds us Torchwood is back, too; all those little camera tricks and fast cuts between night-time cityscapes we all loved so much are back. This look is perfect for the introductory scenes of the fantastic James Marsters as “Captain John”; Torchwood is looking even more like Angel than usual.

Possibly the funniest scene in the history of ever is when John appears as a hologram type thingy from Jack’s wristwatch; not long after you’re thinking the words “Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope”, John only goes and says it. Genius.

The scene in the bar between Jack and John (the name is a complete mickey-take, of course), snogging and fighting, is fun too. And I love the concept of rehab for murder. We also hear, intriguingly, that the Time Agency has shut down, and there are only seven Time Agents left.

With the team’s arrival at the bar we get a bit of metatextual fun, too; I believe John’s suggestion of Excalibur is the name RTD originally had in mind for the pre-Who idea which later became Torchwood.

We get one surprising revelation (Gwen’s engaged!), and one slightly less surprising one (John’s a baddie. Who’d have thunk it?) Meanwhile two little character arcs start up again here as Tosh makes it clear (to the viewer, anyway) that she’s rather keen on Owen, while Jack, with an uncharacteristic nervousness, asks Owen out on an actual date. We also get the debut of the New, Improved, Wisecracking Ianto as he tells Jack that he’s “good on roofs”.

There are a couple of intriguing lines later on from Jack and John about “Rear of the Year, 5094” (sorry, can’t quite repress my inner continuity nerd) and on how they “should be among the stars, claiming them for our own, just like before”. Blimey. Some intriguing implications there.

The plot works its way through, and it’s a good plot, but the plot here is just a skeleton to hang the coolness from, and there’s plenty of coolness; a Torchwood which is recognisably the same people but has loosened up a lot, as it had to; John, the coolest antihero since… well, Spike from Buffy; the dialogue; lots of little revelations. Speaking of which… who’s this Gray then?

5/5. An endlessly rewatchable bundle of fun.

Torchwood: End of Days

“So, are we going to sit crying into our lattes or are we going to do something about it?”

The good news is that Gwen and Rhys seem to have patched up their relationship troubles. The bad news is that all sort of weird timey-wimey shit is happening, and it’s all Owen’s fault. Oh, and this is our first script by Chris Chibnall for a bit. Some may consider this bad news; I couldn’t possibly comment.

Said weirdness includes a Roman soldier which is giving PC Andy grief, and an outbreak of Black Death which is quickly solved by Owen with his usual charm and tact. Then everyone arrives back in the hub, and the fault lines which have been threatening in the background for a while now finally rip the team asunder.

We begin with the big clash of the alpha males between Jack and Owen, as usual with jack representing the big picture and Owen representing the more human urge to deal with the immediate problem. Jack’s right, as he always is when this argument is played out, particularly as the whole imperative to open the rift comes from Bilis and his manipulations. But in spite of this he handles the situation very badly on a human level, sacking Owen, on a whim, right in front of the rest of the team, thereby weakening their confidence and trust in him.

Owen now has less than 24 hours until he’s retconned, which will essentially take his while life from him. Naturally he deals with this by going to one of those horrible trendy bars he seems to like so much and drowning his sorrows with bottled lager or alcopops. Jack and Gwen, meanwhile, investigate Bilis, discovering that he’s a time traveller, running an antiques business on the Edward Waterfield model.

Bilis gives Gwen a premonition of Rhys dying, and shortly after this stabs Rhys to death. Eve Myles is brilliant at portraying Gwen’s grief, and this is what causes Jack’s authority to ebb away as first Gwen and then the others agree to open the rift. Even Owen suddenly appears to complete the mutiny. It all starts getting a bit nasty, and then Owen shoots Jack, which seems to be the fashionable thing to do in Torchwood these days.

We now discover that all this was a plot by Bilis to bring back his god, Abbadon. The CGI’s a bit unfortunate here, but never mind. The solution is satisfying, with Jack’s immortality ultimately saving the day. Jack’s resurrection is a bit long-winded (I’m sure nobody watching thought for a moment that he was actually dead) but the final scene is great; the hand in the jar starts bubbling, and we hear a familiar sound. It definitely came from within the hub, so the time we see the corresponding scene in Doctor Who it will definitely be set in the Hub and not outside or anything.

Another good ‘un, with some good character stuff, but not quite up there with the best. A strong 4/5.



As for the season, it averages 3.615/5, which may not be that great (if fitted in with the first 28 seasons of Doctor Who it would be a fair bit below average) but represents a creditable showing. I was far more impressed with this season than I was expecting to be, with a lot of underlying themes and character stuff which I didn’t properly register the first time round.

Torchwood: Day One

“He just…”

“Came and went?”



It’s the second episode, so we get our first sight of the regular introductory spiel we’ll be seeing for the rest of the season. It is just the DVD, or is the sound really poor for this bit?

This is the first script from Chris Chibnall, and I’ll do my best to try and approach this as though I hadn’t seen anything else written by him, which is not going to be easy. It’s not a bad script, although there’s an obvious drop in quality from last episode’s RTD masterclass. And it’s a comparison it’s hard to avoid making; again we see everything from Gwen’s point of view, and again we’re introduced to Torchwood, this time in a different context.

The alien escaping is all Gwen’s fault, of course, but the script is quite right to fully acknowledge this while firmly refusing to dwell on it. It’s a good introduction to Torchwood’s actual working methods, a good proper introduction to the full team, and a good story for Gwen. We even get our first inkling of Tosh’s feelings for Owen. Unfortunately, though, the nature of the alien threat- death by shagging- is very, very silly and a clear example of making something post-watershed for the sheer hell of it. Still, at least there’s a fair bit of successful humour in the way it’s done. I love the facial expressions from the bouncer.

There’s a lot of CCTV in this story, which is very, very British, but it’s good to get an early look at the team using their investigative skills. It’s quite clever how Gwen’s police skills start off being derided but their usefulness becomes gradually more obvious.

The alien tells Gwen that it’s not here for conquest but for “The best hit there is”- bit of foreshadowing there. And then we get the girl on girl action, and the most ridiculous part of the episode- everyone’s reaction to it. Gwen could be in immense danger here; the team’s attitude is shockingly unprofessional and a terrible misjudgement by Chibnall.

The Chinese takeaway scene is great, especially as we haven’t really had a character scene involving the whole team in a relaxed situation. It’s quite a revelation that, as soon as Jack leaves the room, everyone reveals that not only do they know hardly anything about the mysterious Jack but they expect Gwen to know more than they do.

The creature’s escape gives us another script problem, though; why on Earth is Owen not subjected to death by shagging? Otherwise it’s a fine ending, though, with lots of nice character stuff for Gwen in particular, and we get teased a bit about this mysterious hand in a jar, clearly something very important to Jack…



The plot’s quite well done, there’s some good character stuff and some good dialogue, but the central premise is very silly indeed and there are a couple of worrying misjudgements with the script. Not as bad as I was expecting but no more than a 3/5.

Torchwood: Everything Changes

“That is so Welsh.”

“What is?”

“I show you something fantastic, you find fault.”



I remember reading RTD (I think it was him) saying in an interview somewhere that he loves the way Torchwood makes Cardiff look like LA, and it’s so true! The very first thing you notice is how fantastic the city looks, how very similar its presentation is to the treatment of LA in Angel. There’s even a similar style of directing (jump cuts, dissolves within a single short scene) which works very well and instantly distinguishes the programme from its parent.

We get a nice short establishing scene with PC Gwen and PC Andy (Tom Price is great), the arrival of the mysterious Torchwood, their Torchwoodmobile, and the line “It’s a fucking disgrace”, just to tell us we’re not watching Doctor Who any more. Then it’s the big scene with the glove and resurrection, seen by Gwen as well as us viewers. Watching it now this scene is actually quite deep, examining quite deeply the implications of what would happen if someone were to be brought back to life, knowing they’d be dead again in two minutes. The dead man has established he didn’t see his killer; what to talk about for the next thirty seconds? It’s quite profound, even before we get to the “Oh my God, there’s nothing!” climax. And then, of course, we get the quip about the last corpse screaming for an ambulance for two minutes just to counterpoint it all with humour. It’s moments like this that remind me what an awesome writer RTD is.

After this rather perturbing sight, we get to see the contrast with Gwen’s home life, and her rather lovely relationship with Rhys, a thoroughly nice bloke. We get the first of several montages showing us Gwen’s life, incorporating a rather amusing line about a CSI: Cardiff from PC Andy. Then we arrive at the hospital, where Gwen sees a glimpse of Jack, and the pace slows down again. It’s a nice little example of the direction style and the narrative driving each other.

I love the way that neither Gwen nor the porter are bothered about the Weevil at first, both of them assuming it to be a bloke in a rubber mask in the sort of self-referential moment that I’m a right sucker for. But this only adds to the shock as the blood starts coming. And the following scenes emphasise both Gwen’s ordinariness in her reactions and her unusual tenacity in tracking down Torchwood.

Our first sight of the hub and our introduction to the team (Owen comes off best with his “I’m a twat”) give us another big scene. It’s all so much more effective because it happens through Gwen’s eyes. I’d actually forgotten the pterodactyl, incredibly. Oh, and it’s great to see Captain Jack again, the same as ever, in this episode at least…

The explanations come: the Weevils are aliens inhabiting the city’s sewers, but of late they’ve become more confident about coming to the surface and attacking people. But they’re not from a spaceship; they’re here because of the rift. And the vertical exit from Torchwood is directly underneath it, its perception filter probably caused by a chameleon circuit reacting with the rift! Although, it has to be said, this does rather sound a bit like a Somebody Else’s Problem Field from Douglas Adams’ Life, the Universe and Everything. Then again, that originally started out as Doctor Who and the Krikkitmen so what goes around comes around.

Gwen and Jack proceed to have a very interesting conversation in a very horrible-looking bar, the sort of place that trendy urbanites like to think of as “classy”. I would use other words personally. Plus, they’re drinking lager. Ugh. The campaign for compulsory real ale in all drinking establishments starts here.

Of course, we then get the scenes with various members of Torchwood taking alien stuff home for personal use. And then we come to the one thing I remember being discussed a lot at the time: is Owen a rapist? I would say quite clearly no; crucially he uses the spray on himself, not the woman. But even if it’s not rape it’s still a dodgy thing to do for a number of reasons and not really the sort of thing one of the heroes should be shown doing in a first episode.

Oh, and this is where we first hear all the stuff about “The 21st century is when it all changes, and you’ve got to be ready,” and “separate from the Government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations”. And we’re told that this is Torchwood Three: Torchwood One was in Canary Wharf; Torchwood Two is a “very strange man” in Glasgow, and Torchwood Four (wonder where that was?) has gone missing. Oh, and Torchwood aren’t interested in catching the killer, just testing the glove. Not that Gwen will remember any of this, as her lager contained “a touch of denial and a dash of retcon”. I’m sure it would have improved the taste. Let’s face it, anything would.

Gwen’s attempts to remember are cruelly dashed by Ianto wiping her files, and Jack is now free to stand precariously on the roofs of architecturally striking buildings looking cool, without the worry of being discovered. But Gwen’s made of sterner stuff, and she soon finds herself opposite Suzie having a gun pointed at her. Indira Varma is fantastic here and the character really comes alive in the combination of script and performance. It’s genuinely shocking when she shoots herself. Suzie’s words about getting “all the Weevils and bollocks and shit” really pack a punch, as does her powerlessness at having to flee from the job she loved. The climax, of Suzie shooting Jack only for him to get back up, is great, although I seem to recall predicting it at the time. Only Gwen, Suzie’s replacement, knows of Jack’s immortality habit for the moment.



Brilliant, great drama with depth, humour and character. 5/5. So far, at least, Jack is his old self and all the characters are getting stuff to do- can this last, he asked rhetorically? More worryingly, these episodes seem to be 50 minutes long, which might scupper my plan to do two episodes most weekdays!