Vague collective thoughts on Torchwood: Miracle Day, Episodes Three to Five. Also, sex.
Well, look at that. I'm back from Dorset, where it turns out it's not easy to have a relaxing break when you don't know if your friends back in London are on fire or not. And on my return, I found three lovely new episodes of Torchwood, all of which which I managed to get through yesterday. Ah, the joys of having spare time because I live in London and I'm too cautious to leave my house.
But before I start on the episodes themselves, a word about the minor debacle that ensued over the fact that a scene in which Captain Jack has sex with a man with a fetish for 1940s military clothing was cut for the UK broadcast. This also relates to my views on sex scenes in TV Drama in general, and it is thus: as a rule, they're unnecessary.
The thing is that sex scenes just don't advance the plot: if the viewer already knows that character X is having sex with character Y, nothing new is revealed to the audience (well, I suppose plenty is revealed to the audience, but anyway) and there's certainly not going to be a heck of a lot of character development either, especially as sex scenes don't generally offer up much chance for dialogue. And for the last time, the reason it was cut has nothing to do with the fact that it was a homosexual relationship; most TV Dramas don't bother showing heterosexual encounters for precisely the same reason: they don't give the audience any new information, they rehash things the audience already knows, they all look the same anyway, and generally fall under the category of what those in the business term "padding."
The scene as shown in the UK broadcast was absolutely fine: we know that Captain Jack went looking for a random sexual encounter, and we know that he got one; we saw Jack's omnisexuality re-established for new viewers; we know from the interactions of the two that the encounter was passionate; we know that it brought back memories of Ianto. We also saw Jack's inner loneliness reaffirmed, and also saw his fears and concerns manifested into desperation, producing pathos. All this strongly suggests that it would have been utterly extraneous to have a few seconds of sweaty thrusting between two actors so stereotypically and conventionally pretty that they might as well have filmed one Ken Doll being hit with another Ken Doll.
All of which has nothing to do (which I believe was my point) with the continuing adventures of the Torchwood team in Miracle Day, which continues to be... uh. Well, it's hardly great, but it's certainly a whole lot better than anything else in the franchise at the moment. In fact, I believe the word I'm searching for is average, which from a franchise that throughout its long history I've found to be either incredibly good or utter worthless crap, just comes as something of a surprise.
Not that being "average" is anything to be ashamed of; it's just that... well, the old stereotypes still hold true. As a British viewer, I expect my drama to be more sublime, engaging on a cerebral level. Most drama from the US is, by comparison, pure melodrama, overindulging on absurd special effects, costly explosions and hammy one-dimensional villains. Now, ordinarily, this would only bother me on a "there is better TV than this" level. After all, the franchise has been doing things this way since 2006. But Torchwood: Children of Earth proved that the show could do so much better. Children of Earth was subtle, sublime, and, in its own twisted way, realistic. The main reason Children of Earth earned such critical acclaim was through the chillingly plausible depiction of how ruthlessly and immorally human beings would react in such a dire situation. The acts carried out by human beings, with little or no influence from the 456, progressed naturally from the problems that humanity faced, while remaining deplorable.
In Miracle Day, however... well, my main problem remains my bewilderment over why this odd cult has sprung up around Oswald Danes, when he has literally done nothing to warrant such treatment. I could buy his crimes being overlooked by a hysterical populace, were he to do something remarkable... but the audience is yet to see him do anything beyond pick up a baby and call everyone "angels," both of which occurred after his mass popularity sprung up. This is a problem that should have been addressed about three episodes ago, but it now looks like it's too late. A pity, as the writing team really need to do something that justifies the character's existence. In the meantime, he yo-yoes between startled innocent caught up in the chaos, and sniggering madman- both without the tiniest shred of subtlety.
Meanwhile, concentration camps have sprung up around the globe. Fair enough- except that there's absolutely no build up, no indication of who came up with the idea, and, unlike in Children of Earth, no all-important scenes of senior politicians grappling with their consciences as they realise they have no choice but to authorise them. These things just come out of nowhere, apparently simply because it's a sufficiently eeeevil thing to throw at our heroes. Oh, and to provide us with yet another addition to the seemingly infinite list of one-dimensional cackling villains with no redeeming features. Oswald Danes, that CIA woman, the assassin- and now Maloney, a sexist, racist, aggressive, sweating little man, the type that causes your mind to subconsciously overlay a twirly moustache onto the image of his face. His background as an unimportant civil servant promoted out of his depth offers much opportunity for interesting character building as events he has no control over drive him further and further into desperation and insanity.
But no, the writers have to make him as eeeevil as possible, just in case we were in any doubt who to root for. Did they really think we would have trouble identifying the protagonist from the antagonist in that situation? Well, they needn't have bothered, because unlike the odious Rex or the loathsome Gwen, Vera was actually a multi-faceted and likeable character. I'm just sorry it wasn't one of those two got turned into a pile of ash.
But it's not all bad news: Jack is still a brilliant lead, something which hasn't stopped surprising me yet, and audience identification figure Esther is everything Gwen should have been five years ago and more. It's just that with the exception of those two, and the ever likeable duo of Rhys and Andy, every single other character seems bland, cardboard, and only there to play their part in the plot, which is beginning to flounder as it reaches its middle stages.
A few more things:
- I still have no idea why Jack now believes he's mortal. From what we see, he could just as easily now be in the same situation as everyone else; for all we know, he could very well go on living after receiving fatal injuries, just as everyone else.
- What's with everyone's indestructible eyeballs? After the splattered bomber from episode one, we now get Fake Sarah Palin, whose eyeball alone somehow survives being minced in a car crusher, as we saw in an utterly unnecessary effects shot, which was more risible than haunting.
- Jack hasn't seen the Pacific in about seven decades. I'm sorry, but if I remember Torchwood's terrible early seasons correctly (though God knows I wish I didn't), wouldn't Jack have been buried underneath nineteenth century Cardiff seventy subjective years ago? That's not counting the time spent in cryogenic suspension, and assuming he doesn't actually mean the year 1941, as Lord knows how long it's been since he last experienced that year.
- Why did Rhys marry Gwen? I know this is a question that goes back a long time, but I can't help thinking it every time I see them on screen together. I'd be interested to know when RTD realised the character of Gwen was an utter failure and just gave up trying to make her likeable.
Anyway, it's halfway. It could go either way at the moment, but for now it's got my attention, and you can't ask for more than that.