Carrying a Torch

The new series of Torchwood brought much promise of rectifying the problems of the first series. Instead, fifteen minutes in, we had Captain Jack having a gay snog and a fight in immediate succession, both with the same person and all for no readily apparent reason (a straight snog and a fight would have made no difference, let me emphasise). I switched off and watched the snooker instead.

The opening was reasonable, with some well-played gags during the initial chase sequence. But when the alien’s speech re-introduced us to the characters, we were reminded what a terrible shadow the mis-judged first series of the programme casts: for all that Torchwood are supposed to be a sophisticated and highly capable unit, fighting an alien menace, we spent the whole of the first series being shown how deeply fallible each and every member of the team is, not to mention, in a lot of cases, deeply unlikeable too. Any prospect that that bunch of berking ninnies could save us from the alien hordes is, frankly, laughable; and I have no desire to spend 45 minutes a week in their company.

I will probably give the next episode a try, against my better judgment, but Torchwood would have been done the power of good by a major cast re-tooling between seasons; it’s a shame that we seem to be stuck with the Feckless Five for another thirteen episodes.


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