Over the past few months—between Gally in February and CONsole Room at the end of May—I’ve been re-watching Torchwood (TW). It had been a while, and I honestly can’t remember whether I’d even watched any of them more than once before this. But the plethora of TW guests at Gally inspired me to re-familiarize myself with the show; as an added bonus, I got to meet an additional cast member at CONsole Room.
Knowing something of what I was getting into going in, I found the first series more enjoyable than I had remembered. My particular preferences hadn’t really changed—there are still one or two specific episodes I think are stinkers, including one that everyone else seems to love—but it was fun getting to know the team again, watching how their relationships grew and evolved.
Clearly, there are plenty of examples in Series One of the writers trying a little too hard to separate TW from Doctor Who (DW), and demonstrate how “adult” it was compared to its parent show. There are distinct growing pains, as everyone struggled to find their footing and determine just what this show should (or could) be.
The second series has always felt smoother to me. Everyone was hitting their stride and the personal stakes felt higher. We got a more direct tie-in with Who when Martha Jones temporarily joined the team, there was the season-long story arc about Jack’s past, and of course there were [SPOILERS] the deaths of Tosh and Owen.
But it wasn’t until Children of Earth (CoE), the five-part mini-series that comprised the third and final* series, that Torchwood really hit its stride.
Now I was already a parent by the time CoE aired, so I have always come to it from that perspective. I can’t really know how its plot might have struck me differently had I been newly pregnant like Gwen, or wanting kids some day but not yet having them, or having decided that wasn’t the life path for me, or—heaven forfend—having lost a child. But I can tell you that it is brutal viewing if you have even an iota of empathy for the characters and their mind-bendingly awful situation.
Being American, I haven’t seen (or specifically sought out) much of Russell T. Davies’s work outside of DW or TW, so I’ve had a limited view of what he can do. That said, I think that CoE is far and away the best piece of RTD’s writing I know. The five, hour-long episodes format allows for a slow burn that makes every new reveal more and more emotionally difficult. Each time we think we’ve begun to regain our balance from one nasty surprise, another smacks us across the face and floors us again.
I remember watching it when it first came out. The episodes aired one each night for five nights in a row, corresponding with the time passing within the story (the episodes are titled “Day One,” etc.). Every single day I felt like I’d been gut punched at some point. If it wasn’t the cliffhanger proper, there was a moment within the episode that made me gasp with the horror of it.
It is established fairly early on that the alien baddie of the piece, designated simply “the 456,” wants human children (thus the series title). Even that first day, it demonstrates some sort of control over them, making them stop dead in the middle of whatever they’re doing or speak in unison around the world. With each passing day, the reality of the exact threat the 456 pose becomes increasingly, disturbingly clearer. And so do the consequences of the British government’s attempts (along with the rest of the world) to cope with the situation in which they’ve found themselves.
In case any of my readers haven’t seen Children of Earth for themselves, I won’t offer any further spoilers. If you have the emotional stamina, though, I highly recommend you watch CoE at some point. It is far from easy or comforting viewing, but it is extremely strong drama, and a fascinating look at how different kinds of people react in a time of supreme stress, including the emotional havoc such decisions can wreak.
Just be sure you’ve got ready access to something fluffy to cuddle.
*No, I don’t count the disaster that was Miracle Day. We’re just gonna Retcon the fuck outta that thing. It never happened.
Conference Room Insidiousness
What I still admire the most about Children of Earth (aside from the Day One, Day Two, etc. format that also worked great in the Miracle Day story arc) was how much I got to righteously detest the characters in the conference room.
There’s something very satisfying in watching scenes where believably normal human beings have dialogue that gets my blood to boil. (If anything, my biggest complaint was that the brunette woman got off the hook way too easy at the end.) I wanted to see heads on pikes, and I think that was the intent of the writer, director, and actors. I wish I could experience that sensation more often from t.v., movies, literature, etc.)
I had a love-hate relationship with how “bureaucratically ponderous” several scenes of Children of Earth were. (This was also something I liked about Miracle Day, come to think of it.) Instead of just glossing by the fact that actual people will jockey for promotions and worry about their re-election chances even in a global crisis, Children of Earth had a believable amount of slogging through governmental channels. I might not have appreciated the CNN-ish careful wording and pacing of Children of Earth’s scenes with the diplomatic dealmaking when I was in my 20s, but I do moreso in my 40s.
One of many aspects
All that behind-the-scenes horribleness (I’m sure that’s a word, right?) is one of the many tense, realistic aspects of the writing that were both sometimes hard to watch and fascinating glimpses into the human psyche.
I know what you mean about the woman who doesn’t “get hers” at the end. I had mixed feelings about that, too. Given all the other emotions I’m always fighting by that point, though, it’s fairly low down on my list of irritants. 🙂