New science fiction? Not so bad, actually.
In the past I have been very scathing about the new Doctor Who on television, because I think it’s really bad scifi. But that didn’t mean I was unwilling to give Torchwood (a spin-off series which shares a character with DW) the benefit of the doubt. If I had BBC3 I probably would have seen it at the weekend but I had to wait for the analogue debut.
I’m very glad I tuned in. It was much more rewarding than the Doctor, which seemed to be a children’s television series that CBBC didn’t have the schedule space for. But this was something different: obviously a product of the same production team, but with the confidence to extend their reach for an adult audience. It wasn’t as sombre as (early) X Files or anything (there was still that Dr Who-style naive charm) but there was a sinister edge to it. It reminded me a bit of The Outer Limits a bit, although that might have been the alien whose sole reason for visiting earth was teh sex.
Which is another thing. They had lots of sex and a bit of swearing and some very brutal-looking instruments for dispatching people to their maker. And some poo-eating aliens in shiny blue boiler suits (honest!).
Not greatly high-brow or anything but I didn’t actually laugh at the premise within the first five minutes, unlike the first DW with Ecclestone in charge. (I mean, shop mannequins armed with laser beams? I ask you…) Of course, the important part of sciffy is: what does it reveal? Apart from the cool gadgets - which, as followers of James Bond will realise, quickly grow stale - why does this being science fiction place it apart? The answer, of course, is that it makes Cardiff seem sexy. (Although those accents were pretty foxy.)
Now you’re gonna tell me that Torchwood’s appearance on BBC2 was a freak, an advertisement for the real thing on digital, and that next time round I’m up yon alien-infested creek without a jump-suit. Sigh.