PTSD

As we roam the English-language dial, we come, inevitably, to British television

My turn again, then. Even though Priya cheated by talking about YouTube (which is a medium, and not the sort of content-based thing we originally had in mind) I’m going to play along and talk about my guilty pleasure for the month: Torchwood.

Yes, the raunchy older brother of Doctor Who turns out to be pretty damn entertaining on its own. Billed as aliens for the 18-and-over crowd, Torchwood may not have the enduring legacy of the original, but it’s got better jokes. And Jack Harkness.

It’s not got the brilliant social commentary of BSG, although there’s plenty of social commentary to be found. Nor is there the witty banter of Farscape, despite the best efforts of a few of the writers. There aren’t even the convoluted storylines of Heroes.

But the actors are having fun, the characters are entertaining, and there are just enough plot twists that don’t scream “RTD got outvoted in a Doctor Who writer’s meeting” to keep my interest. Most of all, Torchwood has what’s missing from Studio 60: a sense that nobody involved takes any of this too seriously. It’s television, it’s fiction, and it’s supposed to be fun. And totally worth the hour or so a week it takes to watch.

Things to watch for: A new take on Harkness, and a brooding set of questions about how he got from omnisexual playboy to borderline-crazy secretive leader who keeps a hand in a jar. Ianto Jones, emo!receptionist and natty dresser. The problem of the week, which centers on sex, violence, or both. The Hub, one of my favorite sets of all time. Tosh, who has a stupid name but is sweet in an “if I had to pick a character to die painfully during sweeps week, I’d put money on this one” kind of way. And the zingy one-liners, some of which are really, really funny and some of which are so bad you have to laugh.

Things to avoid: Owen’s upper lip is mesmerizing yet terrifying. The Owen/Gwen relationship has a similar soul-sucking effect. Bisexuality, while fine enough on its own, is apparently required by the Torchwood HR department—something of which I’m not sure Queen Victoria would have approved, and something which hardly needs to be emphasized in half of the aired episodes. The show is eight episodes in, and only in the last three or so has the storytelling been consistent enough that I don’t cringe when telling friends to watch.

Overall, and I say this as a person who has watched some fantastic television art as well as some truly horrifyingly bad shows, Torchwood is considerably better than the detractors would have you believe, and only slightly worse than its diehard fans (and they do exist) claim it to be. British seasons are short—take the time while American ones are on hiatus to check out what you’re missing in this one.

posted by Elizabeth @ 12:22 AM