One Fish, Two Fish, Blowfish, Blue Fish
You can beat, shoot, criticise and lambast us. But we keep coming back, stronger every time. As long as at least 3 million viewers tune in that is…
Torchwood: Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
Maybe it’s because I work in a Post Office that I have such an affinity with pensioners, but in this case ‘Bloody Torchwood’ pretty much sums up my feelings to a tee. I really, really wanna like this show but it keeps letting me down time after time after time. Maybe it’s the unreasonable expectation. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve seen all this done a thousand times before (and usually better). Or maybe it’s because kicking this hybrid runt of sci-fi and ‘adult’ drama has become about as passe as suggesting that Russell T Davies is the embodiment of perfect show-runner who can’t write a decent script even with a gun to his head. Either way, I’m long past caring. So perhaps that means I’m gonna enjoy this sophomore series more than it has any right to be.
Enough already with the well-worn criticisms of Torchwood season one, which we’ve all listed in variously amusing and insightful ways on the previous incarnation of this blog. Instead let’s take a look at what Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang got right for a change. Gone is the self-importance, barely noticeable is the ludicrously over the top swearing for no reason other than this is how Chris Chibnall really thinks adult people talk, and almost palatable is the constant shoe-horning of ‘Go, Go, Go’ style dramatic arsing about for want of building any real drama. It’s still there, sure, but I think even Chibnall and the cast have reached the point now of realising just how bloody ludicrous this all sounds. Sorry for the gratuitous swearing there, by the way.
‘Bloody Torchwood’ pretty much sums up my feelings to a tee
And in its place? Well, not a lot sadly. There’s an undeniable pleasure to watching Torchwood that still makes having a go at it strangely guilt-empowering; the style and the swagger is all there to see, suggesting in any other circumstances a series that has come out of its tricky debut year with all the confidence and assuredness that hit ratings and a loyal fan-base would make you expect. But at the same time you really think you should be watching something more worthwhile, something more enobling and - dare I say it - something more profound. Maybe I’m missing the point (for which I apologise) but I kinda expect my sci-fi drama to be a bit more than running around for grown-ups in these post-Buffy days of emotional empowerment. I mean, new Who (as we are wont to call it, it seems) sure has its moments of lump-in-the-throat profundity these days, so why can’t this? Is it really too much to expect a show that is nominally aimed at the ‘adult’ demographic to be a bit more, er, adult?
But I guess what Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang does best is what all season-openers should do; reintroduce the show to the hardcore whilst opening the door to anyone who didn’t get tempted to come in first time round. Forget the plot - the McGuffin of having Torchwood running around sans credibility, looking for some half-arsed alien artefacts on behalf of someone they’ve just met is really just an excuse for some post-Jack Oprah-therapy; wherein we learn that Team Torchwood are so much stronger, so much better for having their leader flounce off for a trip to the year One Trillion. Which leaves ol’ Captain Ubiquitous in something of a dilemma, torn between his loyalty to his alien-chasing friends and the past that keeps pulling him back (and if this ain’t a recurring theme of Season 2 then I’ll eat my weevil). Sure, by episode’s end Jack’s made his choice, of sorts (though the fact he’s still about as coy as a particularly secretive KGB agent doesn’t bode well for the team sharing anecdotes with him about the 51st Century) but that tantalising mention of ‘Grey’ and the fact that guest star James Marsters looks set to make at least one return appearance pretty much nails the fact that Torchwood is still going to be a case of us and them. Though who exactly falls into which camp could easily change from week to week.
Is it really too much to expect a show that is nominally aimed at the ‘adult’ demographic to be a bit more, er, adult?
Which brings us not very neatly to the main reason for staying tuned to this after the first ten minutes. Okay, so the act might be a good ten years old now but you’ve gotta admit that nobody - but nobody - quite steals a scene like the former Captain Peroxide of the Buffyverse himself. The hair may be a little more conservative, the face not quite as fresh as it once was (though those cheekbones could still give a certain Blue Peter presenter a run for her money) but James Marsters still exudes the kind of quietly confident swagger and shit-eating smugness that made Spike arguably the highlight of Joss Whedon’s career. Anyone else still trotting out their old stage act of the last decade would probably fall flat on their face, but Marsters’ turn as Jack’s fellow time agent Captain John (still noticeably British here despite there being no real need) brings back warm memories of David Boreanaz looking miserable and out-shone on Angel’s final year. The western-style stand-off in which John and Jack go from snogging bags of testosterone to preening cock-fighters (innuendo fully intended) is arguably the adrenalistic high-point of the episode (soundtracked, rather appropriately, to Blur’s ‘Song 2’…or should that be ‘Woo-WHO’?). It’s guilty pleasures like this that actually make you want to stop worrying and love Torchwood instead.
All of which goes to highlight just how dull the rest of Torchwood are. Was the premise of this show really ‘Five go in search of some character development’ as - besides maybe Ianto - everyone is still trotting out their thinly-written characters of Season 1. Yeah, okay, so the bitching might have been toned down and there’s just (but only just) a suggestion that they might actually have started liking each other nowadays, but these are still the broadly-drawn stereotypes of yore: the nerdy and emotionally-repressed brains, the cock-sure but vulnerable medic, the girl next door who’s still trying to balance fighting aliens with a home-life of engagement rings and full English breakfasts (on which point, just how long can they keep poor Rhys dumb to what job Gwen’s really doing?). And of course their immortal leader, shorn it seems of the unnecessary and frankly annoying angst of season one to become…what, exactly? Perhaps given Marsters’ presence it’s unfair at this early stage in proceedings to judge Captain Jack and Barrowman too harshly on the basis of this opener. But there had better be some decent background to his frankly far too sketchy past on show in Season 2 else there’ll be hell to pay (and no, I don’t mean how he somehow loses all his limbs and torso and ends up as a giant face in a jar either…)
you’ve gotta admit that nobody - but nobody - quite steals a scene like the former Captain Peroxide of the Buffyverse himself
So is there hope still for Torchwood? Yes, I believe there is (whilst guardedly crossing my fingers). As others have already pointed out, it seems to be taking itself a lot less seriously this year (but in a good way) and I think we’d all agree that a team that plays together, stays together will be nothing but a good direction for the frankly laughably hostile set-up of Season 1 to take (though whether having such unsubtle metaphors as Gwen’s cure coming as a result of combined DNA from the other members of Torchwood each week is somewhat debatable).
Still, the 21st Century is when everything changes. And you’ve gotta be ready. Let’s just hope that the Chibnall Wizard and co finally are…
























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