|
Torchwood Seasons 1-3 |
|
|
|
Torchwood Seasons 1-3 |
|
Torchwood series 1-3 overview by Joe Ford 17/8/12
I can still remember reading the Doctor Who New Adventure Damaged Goods. I was only 15, but Russell T Davies' dark, domestic thriller blossomed something inside me. It was an introduction to a sicker, scarier world of Doctor Who that dealt with petrol bombers, women selling their newborn children, gay sex and slaughter. It was so well written I have been compelled to read it many times since. When Doctor Who came back in 2005, I was confused to see Davies name as the frontrunner, unsure whether this would be the challenging escapism I have come to expect from the show or a more mature, post-watershed take on the show. Obviously, I had nothing to fear, but, when I heard about the conception of Torchwood, I saw the opportunity for Davies to produce something as nasty and mature as his New Adventure. This was going to be the best series ever with all the imagination and wit of Doctor Who but with touches of realism that will chill you to your very heart.
What on Earth happened? Season One of Torchwood was probably the most uncomfortable birth trauma I have ever seen a new series suffer. We've all seen the tone meetings on Doctor Who confidential; how they determine the overall style and feel of an episode... I can only imagine what the tone meetings were like for Torchwood. 'Well there's not much sex or swearing in this episode, and the characters are practically likable in that one!' When I sat down to watch Everything Changes and Day One my heart sank; this was not going to be twisted Doctor Who I was expecting. There were manifold problems piling up as those two episodes progressed; none of the characters were especially likable, there were moments of inappropriate gore for its own sake (the Weevil biting the guy in the neck and the blood spraying all over the camera) and the writing was jettisoning creativity to promote ridiculously unsexy escapism. Day One is still one of the most appalling travesties of television I have ever forced myself through... the scene where the guy is masturbating in the toilets and explodes with pleasure could have been funny, but it is written, filmed and acted with utter conviction and thus denies us any chance any chance to laugh with this show.
The very nature of burgeoning television shows usually means things do not settle down for quite a while (it took Star Trek: The Next Generation two seasons to find its niche), but this really was the humblest of beginnings. Things could only get better. Fantastic ratings on BBC3 (the highest they had ever received at the time) had convinced the BBC they had a hit on their hands despite mixed reviews and the viewers bleeding away throughout the season.
The regulars can make or break a television show and Torchwood initially suffered from a cast of poorly defined, distinctly unlikable and sexually ambiguous twenty somethings, which was shocking considering the arsenal of acting talent the show had at its disposal. John Barrowman, Eve Myles, Gareth David-Lloyd, Burn Gorman, Naoko Mori and Kai Owen are all terrific performers and were being shoehorned into roles that made them arrogant, schizophrenic, pathetic, bullying, shy and aggressive. Things settle down in the latter half of the season, but the first six or seven episodes expose a lack of chemistry and actors fighting the distasteful characterisation they are burdened with.
The third episode, Ghost Machine saw some real potential emerge. It is an intimate script, jettisoning alien menaces for simple, human drama and this was where the show excelled in the first year. It was becoming clear that the mixture of Doctor-Who-style science fiction operatics and the down-to-earth grit of Torchwood do not gel; it flourishes when it uses science fiction ideas to stimulate drama. Ghost Machine saw the attempted rape and murder of a woman which is witnessed by Owen through the alien device. It was upsetting to watch, but effectively dramatised because, rather than the shoulder-shrugging sadism he usually applies to violence, Owen is genuinely disturbed, shivering and mute. The best Torchwood episodes allow these characters to behave like people and not science-fiction heroes. Bear in mind Owen uses a spray that turns people into horny teenagers in Everything Changes so effectively rapes a man and a woman in the first episode himself. The inconsistency in characterisation in the first season is jarring, but at least Ghost Machine was a massive step in the right direction.
Chris Chibnall lacked any kind of subtlety in his season one scripts. His work is the one that reads like a spotty, horny teenager getting out all of his frustrations on paper. Day One is an opportunity to watch lots and lots of sex, preferably lesbian. Cyberwoman is easily the nadir of the season, an episode with very little merit of any kind as a slinky, sexy Cyberwoman - Ianto's ex girlfriend no less - attacks the Hub and attempts to convert the regulars. Here was a chance for a claustrophobic thriller to get to know our main characters, but instead it turns into a gore fest (people are shot, heads cut open, bodies mutilated) and a chance to see how much the Torchwood team all fancy each other (Jack and Ianto are kissing, Owen and Gwen are gyrating) and some really horrible dialogue and plot holes. It's nasty, silly and stupid. You can't even watch it as terror television (you know, like Time and the Rani) because it's all played so straight that it's just pure cardboard. And rather than give him a chance in the spotlight, it was about ten steps backwards for Ianto, who would grow into one of the show's most likable characters, but after this travesty I didn't want to see him focussed on for a long time.
Small Worlds exemplifies Torchwood's ability to seek out dangers in unusual places and the fairies help to make this lyrical, sensual episode shine. It's not quite top drawer because the little girl playing Jasmine is not very convincing and the CGI is lacking in places, but the details about Jack's past (it is here that is strongly hinted that he has lived through the 20th Century), the flashbacks and the nature of the threat make this another example of Torchwood finding its own style.
The sexuality of the characters was consciously written, but again leads to some remarkably juvenile writing. All of the main characters seem to be bisexual. It's like the antithesis of Star Trek which has resisted a televised gay character for over forty years, so instead Torchwood comes stomping along without any subtlety and makes them all gay! Jack's sexuality was so refreshing on Doctor Who, but I just can't seem to get a hold of him on Torchwood. He seems to fancy everyone. He flirts outrageously with Gwen and starts banging Ianto halfway through the season, we meet an ex girlfriend (Small Worlds) and he gets it on with his namesake (Captain Jack Harkness). It would seem saving the world and having sex are his favourite activities, but not necessarily in that order. Ianto is hysterical over his dying girlfriend in Cyberwoman, but happy to pull out his stopwatch (that's not a metaphor) just four episodes later and get it on with Jack. Tosh silently pines for Owen so sleeps with an alien chick (huh?). Owen criticises Jack and Ianto's shenanigans, but gets it on with a Welsh jock in the first episode. They are all pleasure seekers, but, lacking the maturity to look for emotional comfort, it feels like we are watching a particularly racy teen drama.
However, of all of the regulars, Gwen is the most troubled. Throughout the first series, she goes on a rollercoaster ride of sexual emotions. She's dating Rhys, a podgy but lovable Welsh truck driver, but she clearly feels intensely attracted to Jack. In the meantime, the darkness of Torchwood starts to creep into her soul and she has a hot and steamy affair with Owen. It's awkward because halfway through the series we are witness to some really aggressive shagging between Owen and Gwen and I was at a loss at how none of these characters have the ability to have a loving relationship. But (and it's a big but) the Gwen/Owen relationship does offer some genuine development. I'm sure everybody has been darkly attracted to somebody who isn't their other half at some point and Eve Myles plays that need for something outside the norm so well. Not only that, but at the turning point of the season, around Random Shoes we see their relationship turn sour, the spark is lost and suddenly they regret what they have done. Gwen is left to pick up the pieces of her relationship with Rhys and wracked with guilt, which leads to some uncomfortable but unforgettable moments. The scene where she tries eating pizza to comfort herself but ends up in tears is horribly voyeuristic; or worse, when she tells Rhys of her infidelity, but amnesia drugs him. It shows just how messed up she really is. It is by far the best running thread of season one, exposing the ugly truth behind affairs, initially magical but ultimately sour and leaving you with so many emotional insecurities. It's a very mature character arc weaving through a mostly adolescent season.
The middle of season one sees three troubled episodes back to back. Countrycide is my favourite of Chibnall's in the first year, but I can fully understand why so many of my friends found it a chore. It is a big, dumb horror story told on the bleak landscape of the Brecon Beacons. Possibly the ultimate expression of repulsion the series has attempted, this tale of a cannibalistic community capturing passing strangers and hacking them to pieces is filmed atmospherically and is genuinely scary in places. Especially terrifying is Tosh being hunted through the darkened woods and the site of the chopped up bodies hanging in the kitchen in plastic bags is enough to turn anyone's stomach. However, the ending where Jack storms in and guns everybody down is as intelligent and thoughtful as we have come to expect from this writer.
Greeks Bearing Gifts has a fantastic premise - an alien device that can allow you to hear the thoughts of everybody - and does go some way towards exploring what a blessing and a curse it would be. Besides Ianto, Tosh has been the most neglected character so a chance to see her tortured, unrequited love for Owen close up was quite welcome. Unfortunately, they dump a vampish alien lesbian into the middle of all this and it all falls to pieces. Rather than playing to their strengths and dealing with the emotional consequences of finding out all your friends' secrets, this episode wastes it on Mary's dull plot to go home. Still, at least it provided some nice CGI monsters for the Sarah Jane Adventures.
They Keep Killing Suzie is where I almost gave up on the show. Look at the beginning of the episode where Torchwood in their fancy clothes and sunglasses barge onto a crime scene and patronise the police. By trying to make these idiots look cool, they just look ridiculous. This episode should have rocked, but Suzie was hardly the most interesting character and this revenge story is crammed full of plot absurdities, ridiculous leaps of logic, dodgy performances, schizophrenic direction and a lack of anybody worth watching. This show needed to grow up fast. Fortunately, that was about to happen.
From nowhere, we were treated to four episodes that could only be Torchwood. I can't imagine Random Shoes, Out of Time, Combat or Captain Jack Harkness on any other show and when you start saying that, a show has begun to discover its identity. They take lovely simple ideas like a friendly ghost, people from the past trapped in the future, a Fight Club scenario with Weevils and a trip back to the Second World War and run with them. It was great Christmas television and it was exciting to watch this show come alive in unexpected ways.
After swimming in sex, swearing and violence, Random Shoes comes as an unexpected delight. It's a gentle episode that takes the focus away from the Torchwood team and allows us to see their world through the eyes of an outsider. Eugene's a fabulous character, slightly geeky in his obsession with Torchwood but that just makes him all the more amiable. It's such a diversion from what we have seen before, giving Gwen the spotlight and giving her the chance to be sympathetic and telling such a small-scale story with warmth and honesty. The line 'That's his tea, there' breaks my heart every time I watch it and the ending will really lift your spirits. Very odd for a Torchwood episode.
Out of Time builds on the success of the last episode by taking an old science-fiction cliche and presenting in a fresh, funny and poignant way. The culture shock of people from the 50's in the 00's provides some interesting insight into our less-inhibited culture. The most interesting element through is the impact these characters have on the regulars, allowing us to see new shades of their characters. Gwen can finally open up about her affair, Jack can share a death experience with somebody and Owen has his heart broken. This has more of an emotional wallop than Random Shoes, the performances are universally strong and certain moments are inspired (Jack holding John's hand whilst he dies).
Combat is a return to harder Torchwood, but Doctor Who actor Noel Clarke has written a fine script that lets us see how close to the edge Owen has become. It's a taut little thriller with lots of style (I love Tosh's methods for infiltrating) and the worst kitchen design ever seen in a television show (that metal staircase... ugh!). Torchwood is slowly dropping plot points to pick up later and the final scene is tantalising.
Completing this run of excellence is my favourite episode of the season, Captain Jack Harkness. It is an intoxicating brew of romance, wartime drama, time-travel shenanigans, high drama and arc building. Jack has bullied his way through season one being little more than a cipher in most stories and this was a fine opportunity to show just how sensitive he can be if the right man comes along. I have complained about the incessant queerness of season one but this episode shows us how to do it right and the romance between the two Jacks is superbly written and performed. Who cares if they would probably have been stoned to death, the moment they embrace in the dance floor I was cheering at the television. Billis Manger leaps from the screen as the creepiest villain of the year and it is great that he turned up again in the next episode. The Second World War is conjured up beautifully with music and fashion without ever leaving one building. Captain Jack Harkness is a fine piece of drama and the highlight of the first season. If only the whole season could have been this good.
Back down to Earth for the finale, a hotchpotch of ideas that are stuffed into a 45 minute script with no time to explore them. The rift is open, people from the past are leaking into the future, time jumps, the murder of Rhys, Owen fired, everybody turning on Jack... it is typical Chibnall to try and ramp up the drama but fail to write the set pieces together with any intelligence. After the insightful drama of the last four episodes, the leads are made to scream hysterically at each other again and everybody is fighting and it all ends with an awful CGI monster towering over Cardiff. My friend's husband vowed to never watch Torchwood again after this idiotic episode.
What an inconsistent first year, some shocking disasters, some absolute powerhouses and very few in the middle ground. Looking back at my favourites (Ghost Machine, Random Shoes, Out of Time, Captain Jack Harkness) all of these scripts were written by women. They take the masculine premise (big bad Torchwood, outside the government, beyond the police) and give it a touch of femininity; they make the show far more human. The boys tend to focus on guns, sex, gore and violence. It was a very traumatic beginning for the show, alienating the majority of its audience and haemorrhaging viewers but with enough quirks and kinks to develop a fan base.
Season Two was a whole different kettle of fish. The writers had the chance to look back over the first series and see what mistakes had been made, the criticisms that had been aimed at the show and do something to rectify this and pull it into a much more agreeable shape. Season Two had a far more consistent level of quality, a feeling that the episodes were pulling in the same direction, there were some nice surprises and the production team produced some very polished action and visuals. Personally, I think both the highs and lows were higher and lower in season one simply because it was such a joy to come across something as good as Out of Time and Captain Jack Harkness amongst all the dreck. But in every aspect - the writing, the performances, the special effects, the direction, the confidence - Season Two grabbed hold of the best elements of Season One and improved them.
Starting with Chibnall script was always going to be a risky move, but he was the creative thrust behind the series this year and as a template for what followed this was okay. That might be damning Kiss Kiss Bang Bang with faint praise but what you have here is a very thin plot padded out with some fun dialogue and a memorable guest turn by Buffy's James Marsters. This is comic-book Torchwood all the way with paralysing lip balm, death-defying falls, rampant flirting, violent kissing followed by violent fist throwing... it's all great fun, but it has very little substance. A few points that leap out though, the Jack/Ianto romance is being treated with some respect, Owen and Tosh are good friends now and Gwen is happily settled with Rhys again. The biggest hurdle was the regulars and they are all amusing and frothy in this first episode and great fun to be around.
Sleeper is where all the drama kicks off with a script that worryingly resembles They Keep Killing Suzie in the first two acts. Niki Amuka-Bird gives a bravura performance as Beth, capturing all the confusion and sympathy of a woman who has found out she is an alien sleep agent. The story steps up a notch when the sleepers are activated and, thanks to a bombastic score and some gripping action sequences, the conclusion really hits its mark.
Trying to capture the romance and the atmosphere of last years Out of Time, To the Last Man features Tommy, a Second World War soldier in cryogenic storage woken up for one day every year. It's a pure Torchwood romance, Tosh and Tommy having an affair, from his point of view he is seeing her age a year every day. Set around a spooky hospital, it does have some skin-crawling moments and there's no denying the sincerity of Naoko Mori and Anthony Lewis' performances but this is a touch too light for my tastes. Whereas the last episode was all incident, this story could be blown away with a whisper.
One of the constant delights of this series and a continuous source of humour is Rhys Williams, Gwen's long suffering boyfriend. Clearly he was already being very patient with her endless hours working with the police, but when she starts working for Torchwood things become even more strained between them. He's just so bloody normal, he eats too much, he drinks and swears, he hates wearing formal clothes, he wants to marry Gwen and have children with her... he is a welcome breath of fresh air for a series that tries to make its characters something more than human. Kai Owen is quite a find and was given little moments to shine in season one, but takes on a much bigger role in season two, another massive plus.
Meat is where Rhys' life is turned upside down, a powerful and thoughtful episode that sees the Torchwood team once again dealing with an unusual alien. In some very disturbing scenes we see a giant whale-shaped alien being hacked apart for its meat and it is a testament to the performances, CGI and sound effects that you really feel for the creature. But the real meat of this episode (see what I did there?) is Rhys' exposure to the world of Torchwood, which is written entertainingly: initially distrustful of his wife when he sees her at the crash, followed by some tense scenes when he follows her on the job and then finally fireworks when he finally confronts her. "Aliens... in Cardiff!" is one of the best lines of the year and Rhys' delightful reaction to the world of Torchwood is far more wonderful than Gwen's at the beginning of the series. Especially brilliant is how he stands up to Jack, sometimes viciously and proves that the everyman can be every bit the hero as the spaceman.
Having some fun with its audience now, Torchwood introduces a new member of the team (even putting him in the credits) and a cleverly layered script plays games with us about the nature of Adam and his abilities. More repair work is being done on the series; we get some flashbacks to Jack's childhood and haunting conclusion as he puts all of his employees to sleep, thus killing off Adam, allows them all to reveal snippets about their characters. This episode would have been great in the opening salvo of Torchwood but it's better late than never. Add in some nasty moments for Ianto, more delights from Rhys and some really hypnotic direction and it's another winner for Season Two.
Jack's been with us since the beginning and the series has been built up around him, but how would transplanting a character from Doctor Who directly into Torchwood work? Surprisingly well, actually. Martha Jones explodes on the scene and exposes the dour regulars for what they are by simply being happy. I love it when shows created by the same production teams leak into each other (ala Buffy and Angel) and Martha is a lovely touch of optimistic Doctor Who in the Torchwood world. It helps that Agyeman and Barrowman have terrific chemistry. It's the same sort of joy I find with Tennant and Tate as the Doctor and Donna, a strong friendship that will never develop into anything more.
Her debut, Reset, was where I felt everything about this series had started to gel beautifully. It is a slick, intelligently written, fast-paced thriller with more cool moments than an entire series of Star Trek (the flies vomiting out of the mouth of the dead guy, the flies attacking, Martha's uber cool contact vision, the supremely grisly Alien moment). The dialogue is excellent, Alan Dale gives a star turn full of menace and gets to achieve the unthinkable, he kills off Owen in the final few seconds of the episode. In itself, Reset is not an especially memorable episode in the way a season opener or closer would be, but it shows Torchwood at the top of its game, providing ruthless entertainment and some stunning production values.
Of all the regulars, I find Owen the most fascinating. Throughout series one, he was something of an unlikable beast, screwing around, messing about with Gwen and generally behaving in an abusive, aggressive manner. However, Burn Gorman is far too good an actor to play this as a one-note character. He suggests depths and torment in Owen that the scripts don't always provide. Some of his finest moments have come when he is at his weakest, peeling back that bully boy exterior and seeing a frightened little man underneath. His time slip rape scene in Ghost Machine, being gutted romantically at the end of Out of Time, crying in Jack's arms at the climax of season one, his geeky crush on Tosh in Adam... Owen is the one regular who proves constantly watchable because you don't know how he will react to anything.
He gets two episodes back to back that deal with his death that prove to be the cornerstone of season two. Both Dead Man Walking and A Day in the Death are accomplished pieces of drama that have very profound things to say about death. Dead Man Walking is a spooky chiller that tries to mix the subject of Owen's death with the frightening concept of death stalking the corridors of a children's ward. Because it wants to be a story in its own right and a character piece about Owen, it doesn't quite gel as well as it could, but it earns major points for the genuinely macabre (and yet exciting) scenes of Owen fighting off Death in the very literal sense. A Day in the Death is the superior work though, 45 minutes of pure character drama with Burn Gorman giving the performance of a lifetime. Joseph Lidster seems made to write poignant yet bleak dramas and the scenes between Owen and Maggie make outstanding television, initially full of angst but ultimately inspiring. The climax of this episode is a visceral experience in every respect because it connects with us visually and emotionally. Once the episode is over, you realise for all the other regulars nothing has really occurred, but as an examination of what makes Owen Harper tick, getting us close to him before his belated demise, it is a beautiful piece of television.
Two introspective episodes are followed by two of the stranger episodes of the year, but they are both still very watchable, proving just how strong this season was overall. Something Borrowed sees a programme at its height of confidence, shrugging off any realism and going for an out-and-out comedy. It's got everything: alien pregnancies, wedding blues, psychotic mother in laws, blowjobs that go horribly wrong, lots of gunplay, tons of witty lines and moments that will leave you wondering whether to shake your head with despair or laugh with the madness of it all. Phil Ford deserves kudos for writing such a daring script and the producers deserve a slap on the back for making it happen.
P J Hammond is clearly still quite a find, decades after Sapphire and Steel. He is one of the few writers that remembers that Jack has lived through the 20th Century and remembers to include his historical escapades in both of his scripts. From Out of the Rain is a lyrical episode; every frame breathes quality from the script right up to the performances and the direction. The episode is full of memorable imagery: the camerawork is ethereal, ghostly and entirely in keeping with the story. The episode is so focused on its own identity that most people hated it; it's slow, and it avoids pace and chases atmosphere. Simply for the idea of circus freaks walking out of a black-and-white projector into reality and the gripping conclusion with the stolen breaths, this episode rocks.
Nothing could fill me with horror more than a triple dosage of Chibnall. So imagine my surprise when he produces two of the best episodes yet and one halfway decent finale? Either he's learning from his mistakes or somebody has whispered in his ear how it should be done, but Adrift and Fragments are both extraordinarily good and a great way to bow out if Chibnall is not going to be involved with the show anymore (Russell T Davies took the reigns for Children of Earth).
What makes Adrift so good is its simplicity. The plot is tightly focused on the disappearance of Jonah, and Gwen and Andy's search for the boy. The way the episode unfolds is unpredictable and striking, with lots of reactions making great drama (Jack's not bothered with anything this small scale, Rhys is more concerned with Gwen working with Andy, Jonah's mother's odd obsession with her son) and with some glorious location work as Gwen follows Jack to discover more of his secrets. Initially sensitive, but ultimately a dark episode, Adrift once again sees the detective in Gwen determined to solve a very human crime. The shot of Jonah screaming still haunts me to this day. Great stuff.
Fragments joins Reset for the best of a strong year. Another episode that should have appeared in the schedules a lot earlier, but what we have here is an episode that answers so many questions about the characters. Why Tosh is such a nervous thing (she was bullied into Torchwood). Why Ianto is so keen on Jack (he gave him a chance). Why Jack is so heartless (he's seen so many people die). Why Owen was such a bastard in season one (his fiance was murdered by an alien). The filming is glorious, the explosion at the beginning and the debris is appropriately nasty and violent, the flashbacks are gripping, and the action sequences (especially the Pterodactyl chase) will leave you breathless. This is a show going from strength to strength, addressing its problems of old and forging a bright future.
Exit Wounds is an odd beast, two parts great and one part awful. Chibnall still hasn't quite got the hang of these finales ala Russell T Davies (who just racks up the tension until you are gasping for breath) and it once again it tastes like a cake with too many ingredients. Dragging the episode down is the underwhelming performance of Lachlan Nieboer as Gray and the character's motivation. I have never been thrilled about revenge stories unless they are done really well and Gray just comes across as a spoilt brat who's throwing his toys out of the pram. A shame, because there are some terrific elements: the return of the tortured Captain John, Gwen in full-on bossy-boots mode and the genuinely touching conclusion. Exit Wounds sees the deaths of two Torchwood characters and the closing ten minutes will tear your heart out. The writing here is beautiful: Owen's ravings are very natural, but Tosh begging him to stop because 'you're breaking my heart' left me in tears. The final shot of Jack, Gwen and Ianto leaves you wondering where the characters could possibly go from here.
After the dodgy first year and the accomplished second year, season three - or Children of Earth as it is better known - was where the success of this show was riding. It was the show's first foray on BBC1 and with only three regulars left and Russell T Davies taking a much larger role in its conception, this was where Torchwood could truly make its mark.
On the whole, it was a total success. I moaned like everyone else about the idea of having the season told over a week, but this turned out to be the best thing about it. The extended length of the show allowed the story so much room to breathe; it gave the guest artists a chance to really bring their roles to life, the acceleration of the plot over a week, the tension rising with each day allowed the creators to truly create event television. I know people who have given Torchwood a chance and spat it out on the pavement like old gum, but after Day One and Day Two they were enticed by the word of mouth spreading about this gripping piece of television and were engrossed by the end of the week. The ratings actually went up as the week progressed and the AI was 90, an astonishing achievement in both cases. My friend's husband who I mentioned earlier was appalled by the first year switched on and was blown away by this story and asked to borrow my season two box set to see what he had missed.
Look at the remaining regulars. Jack who has lived so long you could shake his character for 100 years and interesting things would still fall out. Gwen and Rhys have always felt like a gloriously real couple, desperately in love and driving each other mad. And Ianto, who was the most faceless character in season one gains a family and such focus in this story. His early scenes with his sister, talking about his dad, his job and his love for Jack give him more character than the last two years. The three of them make a surprisingly engaging trio especially when backed up by such a talented supporting cast. Peter Capaldi, Liz May Brice, Cush Jumbo and the rest must have been so excited when they read their scripts; the story affords the guest characters to develop as flawed, ugly, humane and sensitive characters, and there is not a weak performance amongst them. Capaldi deserves kudos for his strong portrayal of a man under tremendous pressure and his last scene counts as one of the all time great shock moments on television for me. The silence made my mouth dry.
Think about the title of the story, Children of Earth. After 456 played voodoo a couple of times, I thought the children would be eased out of the plot. How wrong could I be? Who would have ever guessed a piece of television would see the government discussing sacrificing 10% of the Earth's children to an alien menace and disguising their kidnap as inoculations? Read that sentence again... Day Four saw the focus turn away from the monsters from space and started focusing on the monsters on Earth. The dialogue was brutal and the dilemma faced churned my guts. If it came to it, would we sacrifice our children to protect our planet? I genuinely thought that would be as far as they would go, talking about it. Oh my God. Day Five remains one of the most uncomfortable pieces of television I have ever watched, a truly haunting and mesmerizing experience. Who could watch children being torn from their schools, their homes, their parents desperately trying to fight the armed forces that were kidnapping their offspring for good and not feel sick? Shots of children screaming hysterically as they are herded into buses and shipped away. And the last punch-in-the-gut revelation that the children were not a food source for the 456 or something that we thought they might be but drugs. The kids were going to live their lives as substance abuse. What an unbelievably monstrous and imaginative idea. With these unforgettable scenes, Torchwood has delivered the adult material it promised, not by presenting us with buckets of gore or sweaty sex, but by making characters look inside themselves, make tough choices and hate what they are doing. By showing how easy it is to sacrifice someone else's child and how far you would go to protect your own. You soon forget we only see one ambassador of this alien race because the story becomes a morality tale on how easy it is to become a monster yourself.
Jack's grandson is cynically injected into the plot to be sacrificed at the conclusion and this was the only thing I really had trouble coming to terms with. I really thought Jack was going to pull a rabbit out of his hat and save the day without harming anyone. However, the story drives its point home so hard that even the heroes become monsters in order to save the day. I don't like that idea and I don't like the implications. Heroism is ejected and a child is murdered to stop this madness; what a cold, hard world Jack Harkness must live in. It leaves his character somewhere dangerous; if the show does return, how do we believe in him now? This isn't Avon from Blake's 7 who stalks Vila through a shuttle to murder him so he can escape the atmosphere or murdering Blake upon believing he has been betrayed. Children of Earth leaves you with no doubt Jack would go to any lengths to save the Earth, which makes him the biggest monster of all. The last scene shows him as a coward too, running away from his responsibilities. A far cry from the Time Agent on Big Ben seducing Rose Tyler. Just what has she turned him into?
Is this the end for Torchwood? The hub destroyed, Gwen pregnant, Ianto dead, Jack leaving the Earth... if this is where the series had to end I am pleased it is on such a magnificent high. However, with its excellent ratings and audience reaction surely the BBC will want more? Which begs the question... where on Earth can they go from here?