Out of Sorts

I’m not usually one to buy anything off of TV, but man, I think this thing really works and it’s totally cheap.

No bulls**t.

Thank you, Hot Chick. :)

NOTE: This post does contain spoilers for Torchwood: Season One, Two, and Three. 

I don’t know why I thought about this the other day, but I think it was the conversation I had with a friend about the relationships in Torchwood. 

The predictable romance/sexual tension between Gwen & her two beaus was a very eye-opening experience for me. It shows that  I’ve possibly learned a lot as I’ve traversed the rocky ground that is love, romance and longing.

At the beginning of the series, I sincerely hoped Rhys would kick the bucket and Jack and Gwen would go tromping off into the sunset together. After all, who couldn’t deny the looks Jack gave Gwen, or that memorable shooting instruction scene? I kept getting impatient, figuring I’d have to wait as long as I did for Mulder and Scully to finally admit their love, which pissed me off. To my surprise, my wish almost came true. Almost. Rhys gets stabbed by some crazy man hell bent on destroying the world, and then is somehow brought back through a reset of the rift in time. (If life was always that easy.) Watching his crumpled form on the dungeon floor, I had mixed emotions. I was sad and yet I cheered for an instant as Rhys’ body lay broken and bleeding, his head cradled against Gwen’s heaving chest. She was free! Jack could finally have her!

Then I pulled my head out of my ass. 

Granted, I know I’m talking about a fictional piece of entertainment, but Gwen is lucky to have Rhys! Looking back, I dislike her all the more for sleeping with Owen and wanting the unattainable relationship with Jack. Rhys stood by her at every turn, and sure,  they had their problems, but ultimately, they kept finding their way back to one another as Torchwood dragged Gwen even deeper through the mud.

I’m glad Gwen seemed to get her own head out of her nether regions as well, and demanded to marry her longtime boyfriend despite wedding day complications. Yet, even as she was about to walk down the aisle, there was still an ever present longing for Jack. Old habits die hard I guess.  

 Despite everything they’ve been through, Rhys and Gwen(for the most part) have stayed committed to one another, which is more than what I could say for Jack, who disappears when the world goes to shit. I’m surprised John Barrowman isn’t demanding that his script writers be burned at the stake for making Jack a coward when it comes to introspection. Perhaps if Captain Jack Harkness stuck around and faced his internal demons, it wouldn’t be so hard to forge acceptable and real relationships with people, instead of letting his 51st century hormones do all the talking. 

I guess my change of heart comes from changing my romantic ideals. Ten years ago, I would have wanted to be rescued by Jack. Who doesn’t like handsome and charming at first glance? Yet, when you scrape away the facade, inside are only demons and guilt and ultimately, Jack wants no part in helping himself. 

Rhys, however, is the ultra loyal partner who will tell you how it is, and hope that Gwen lives up to her side of the bargain. Yet, he’s also shown time and time again, that even when she can’t, he’s more than willing to cut her some slack and help her. He’s dependable, he’s her rock, and he loves her. He’s the smoldering spark that refuses to die. 

Jack, I hate to say it would be lighter fluid over paper. A brilliant, white hot flame that lasts for seconds. Hell, milliseconds to a person who supposedly lives forever. 

I have had my share of Jacks in my life. 

Give me a Rhys.

I’ll admit, season one and two of Torchwood, was no Battlestar Galatica, but it filled my insatiable void for mainstream science fiction. Quirky characters, fun little stories, unbelievable conclusions, it was like Mulder and Scully got sexy and fun.

A pterodactyl? Check. A glove that brings people back to life? Check. A sex robot who lives on orgasmic energy and turns her victims to dust? Check. It was safe to say that the first two seasons of Torchwood were a nice distraction from everyday life.

However, Children of Earth, the five day mini-series event, changed all that. This post gets terribly spoilerific, so if you haven’t seen the newest installment by Russell T. Davies, go no further.

Day One starts out much like the original series. After a flashback from 1965 involving children walking into a strange light, we see Gwen standing at a Cardiff ATM when two children in her immediate vicinity just stop moving. Staring straight ahead, both sets of parents figure their children are playing a game. After a few moments, the kids move on as if nothing happened. It wouldn’t be Gwen if she didn’t find something odd about the situation, so she investigates on the down low. Turns out, reports have been coming in that it was not an isolated incident.

Later the same day, it happens again, except that all the kids start to scream and then speak in unison. Like a heavy antique circus train trying to chug up a hill, “We, we, we” is repeated, building slowly to the full sentence “We are coming.”

It’s one of the creepiest scenes I’ve ever experienced in televised history. Having children of my own probably added to my visceral reaction. I wanted to check on my girls to make sure they were sleeping soundly in their beds.

As the series progresses, we learn that an alien entity named the 4,5,6,  (I’m still confused where they get the name — I know it’s the radio frequency on which the being transmits, but it also has 3 heads as well) has come back to Britain. Is it alone or part of an invading armada? All we know is that it’s extremely dangerous.

Continuing on, we find out a number of things. Gwen is pregnant. In the same moment we find she is  six weeks along, we find out Jack has been the victim of a nefarious scheme aimed at taking Torchwood out of the picture. A bomb has been planted in his stomach and he manages to get Gwen and Ianto out of the super secret lair before it blows sky high.

We learn Jack was to be contained (since he’s got that whole, immortality thing going on) in a cement prison because apparently, what you didn’t see in the beginning 1965 flashback, was that he was the person leading the children into the light.

More plot details unfold — hey, I have to leave some surprises, and ultimately we find out that the 4,5,6 want ten percent of the world’s children. Again, I’ll leave out the reason why as the discovery is one of the most disturbing moments in the series.

There is resignation from politicians,  balking by people who give a damn  and there are severe consequences related to both. One of the most insightful and horrifying things portrayed in CoE are how the heads of state react to this alien threat. The Americans rush over to Britain and hurl insults while screaming about “national security” and UN resolutions. Oh, how high and mighty we are in the face of something so vile. Noting the British incompetence, its the US which takes immediate control of the situation.

I can’t say I liked the portrayal very much, but with that said, I don’t doubt it would go differently. Depending on of course, who is president at the time.

My only other minor complaint had to deal with the lack of panic. A great big column of fire decends into London, the children of the world are mind controlled by an unknown entity and it’s business as usual? Where are the protests, where is the panic, where is the looting? Davies puts a lot of faith in the human spirit when the government asks for trust. As we’ve seen, it only takes something little to tip the scales and induce a mass hysteria. I still can’t turn on my news without hearing about Michael Jackson…

CoE is as much character driven as it is superb story. We find out that the British PM is a total coward, hiding behind small glasses, a polite accent and paperwork. He’s the kind of guy who retreats when it counts and leaves the most difficult decisions and work to other people, hoping to coming out unscathed in popular opinion.  It’s those kinds of people that make me sick and all to often, they are the people at the wheel of a sinking ship. It’s disheartening.

One of the most intriguing parts of the series was the character, John Frobisher, the Permanent Secretary to the Home Office. I wanted to hate him at first, but I slowly realized that he was a peon in the civil service, used as a pawn and thrown into a situation over his head. A complex character arc, he does what he thinks is necessary and right to protect his government and is ultimately betrayed in the end. I had to walk away on Day Five to control my crying and shaking in his last scene. I don’t think I’ve ever been that upset, moved, disappointed, and angry at what this man is forced to do.

As far as Torchwood is concerned, I find it interesting that throughout the whole event, they are ineffective as a group. In episodes past,  standing together was their strength and usually dictated how well they worked with one another. Not the case this time around. In this story, it comes down to the heartbreaking decision of one of the members that ultimately dictates the conclusion.

There are no happy endings in this series and I think this is one of the rare cases where I’m glad it happened as such. Had all the strings been neatly tied and organized into proper places, I would have been less satisfied. There are severe consequences for everyone involved and the chaos is at times overwhelming.

If you haven’t seen Torchwood: S1 & S2, I would at this point tell you not to bother unless you’re interested in something entirely different. While the original year series is everything that I mentioned, CoE is vastly different. Even the characters are different in spirit if not by name. It’s almost like watching a horny college student grow into adulthood and suddenly realizing that there are far more responsibilities out there than waving a gun, having sex and blowing up alien goo.

I hope there are more events like this going forward. There has been talk that the series will continue provided the success of this 5 day mini-series and if early numbers are any indication, I think we’ll see more Torchwood in the future.

I watched the conclusion on Friday and still, I’m asking myself questions and digesting the content. Would I have made the same decisions? This is one of those experiences from which you walk away thinking about everybody involved. You need to put yourself in their shoes and realize that while it’s unlikely in my lifetime to ever see an alien threat, it could be something as simple as war, or disease that sets a similar chain of events into action. In any effect, it made me squeeze my kids a little harder and hoping I’m never put into any such situation.

One of my favorites scenes so far in season one. It’s 2 a.m and I’m only through episode 7. I.can’t.stop.watching.

This show has everything a lonely single woman loves in a show. Good stories, memorable characters, swearing, guns, aliens, murderers, blood, guts and sex! Wooo. Why I didn’t start watching this show long before now is a mystery to me. Thank God, Captain Jack Harkness can help me figure that out. Oh, and he can totally help me perfect my real life shooting skills any day.

I am watching it on Itunes, only because I have no idea what censors do to the show once it gets here after airing in Britain. Trust me when I say, this show is a dish best served whole…with good stories, memorable characters, swearing, guns, aliens, murderers, blood, guts and sex! (Oops!)

*** Warning – contains spoilers from the series finale***

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Okay, let me clarify. The title of the post should really have been, “Why Most Horror Movies that the SciFi Channel plays, Suck.”

As with most of the testosterone laden channels out there right now, everyone has some sort of monster movie marathon happening in the lead up to Halloween. Usually a History Channel or Discovery Channel addict, my father, who ever since I can remember, gets a grin and starts flipping through the senseless and copious amounts of B-movie stupidity.

I don’t watch much TV these days and I’m usually stuck in my home office working anyway, but I’ll occasionally take a bio or get some food, only to pass by the TV to walking zombies, killer dolls, or generally something that is spurting blood or screaming.

It was a few days ago, but when I went in the kitchen to grab a sandwich, there on the TV was a teenage girl going absolutely insane along side Mimi Rogers. Mimi ends up biting it near the end, I didn’t stick around to find out how, but the only thing I can think of is that she bled out from her ears after listening to the girl whine for a full half hour. In fact, I believe I came back out and the girl was still crying and hysterical in the same car, in the same seat, and pleaded with whatever killer to finish her off.

More recently, we were treated to some sort of zombie movie in the afternoon hours while the kids were in school.

As this is basically all I’ve seen, the SciFi channel will buy rights to a zombie movie with the specific criteria:

1.) One abandoned warehouse where one can house all secret-pseudo military operations
2.) One male protagonist who despite his cocky attitude and troubled past, is one hell of a nice guy
3.) One hawt female counterpart who has turned down advances from the male hero multiple times, only to fall in love with him as she does kickass battle beside him against hordes of zombies
4.) Multiple people playing zombies who overact their parts
5.) One actor who plays a role of international flavor, who usually shits all over nationality being played by sporting a horrible accent, or displaying bad stereotype
6.) One black dude who has, “seen it all”, but usually bites it (or gets bitten) regardless of any heroics
7.) One Mexican who playfully jabs the wholesome white guy only to point at the hawt female protagonist as she pulls camos over a slammin body and say, “I’d hit that”.
8.) One rich, white dude who funds the operation that turns everyone into zombies in the first place, only to get eaten in the end.
9.) Lots of blood, guts and body parts
10.) Lots of weapons
11.) No real plot required

Now, the issue I have with the Scifi channel is that they only seem to be buying the cheaply made b-movie crap-in-a-blender these days. I don’t recall watching anything good. With the exceptions of Battlestar Galactica and some would argue Dr. Who and Eureka, Scifi should just merge with SpikeTV and be done with it. I mean, they’ve already got boxing, and fake wrestling on, and I think I saw the daytime soap Passions, a while ago while I was lazily channel flipping.

IF you’re going to have an aptly named science fiction channel, strictly dedicated to science fiction, then it better play 24 hours of science fiction! Is that such a hard concept to fathom? Why not some decent movies? NBC owns Universal. Why can’t there be reciprocal SF offerings on both stations? Instead, the faithful will have to endure Starship Troopers (1,2,3) quality crud that we can’t stomach even with a bottle of Pepto.

Enjoy your killer (scientifically-altered, alien, animal) of the week preying upon small (towns, boats, children, hunters) and testosterone laden adventures into frivolity with shit such as Ghost Hunters and Scare Tactics, while I actually go find some good TV.

You won’t be sorry.

*Disclaimer — it may not be safe for work or children, even though it’s censored.

WTF?

This is almost as bad as FOX’s blunder with Michelle Obama last week. Let’s take serious news, twist the headline and then sell it as a shirt with our branding. Seriously, what is going on in the heads of marketing over there?

Who wants a t-shirt that says, ” Clerk plans to marry same-sex partner?” or ” Furor erupts over guns in national parks!” I’m not kidding here, if you go to the news site and click on the little shirt icon next to the video camera, you can make yourself a t-shirt.

It’d be nice if you could alter a headline to say, “CNN has no class!”

Furthermore, who’s the lucky soul who chooses the headlines? Will they get raunchy and more ‘tongue-in-cheek’ as time progresses as some asshat buys the merchandise? Why can’t it all be equal opportunity either? “Police shoot man beating to death toddler” has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Give me a fucking break will you please? This type of money making scheme would maybe work on “The Daily Show” or “The Onion”, but CNN? I’m officially cutting myself off from reading/watching news in all formats.

Someone please tell me when the world starts to end, cause I’m not going to know about it.

****This will contain spoilers for “Battlestar Galatica”, so don’t read if you aren’t up to date on the show. ****

In the comment thread of my “I Hate Ron Moore” post, Vince asks me why I currently hate the man responsible for one of the best shows on television. I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on why last night was so disappointing, so with a deep breath to control my rage, here we go.

I’ve been on board BSG since the very beginning. I’ve seen friends and enemies alike air-locked, or killed in senseless battles and accidents. I’ve been Admiral Adama’s personal assistant and have watched him grow in both stature and wisdom only to see every strand of strength whittled away in the brief moments of deeply personal betrayal. I’ve stood next to Caprica Six as she’s talked and fucked a deranged and selfish Gaius Baltar. I’ve shared in the disbelief and wholly disturbing personal secrets of Col. Tigh, Anders, Tori and Chief. I too was shut away with D’Anna and let fear rule my decisions when I was “unboxed”. I’ve felt the intense passion that guides Leoben and the frustration and curiosity that make Kara Thrace. I’ve also counselled and questioned every decision Laura Roslin has made since the initial destruction of the 12 colonies.

I am a part of each person, each crew, each cylon and have been from the very beginning.

With all that said, you can imagine my joy, relief and disbelief when Felix Gaeda exclaimed that the constellations were a match. You can imagine the tears of those overwhelming emotions flowing like a cleansing river when Admiral Adama confirmed we had found our new home. I danced in jubilation with Lee in the CIC. I hugged my comrades in the hangar bay, and I wept with those who have lost so much and for the first time in years have had something for which to hope.

Yet the moment I bent down and held the soil in my hands with Adama, and heard the familiar tick of an active Geiger counter, was the moment my hope turned into rage and despair. Couple this with the fact that I am now frozen in time for an unknown period until the forces that be decide I can continue the rest of our journey, and well, it makes for a pretty pissed-off Kate.

I understand the need for dystopia when creating a show or writing a novel. Yet, if you are like me, you have invested yourself in watching, debating and discussing this show. With those countless hours, entitlement arises that you are owed a payoff for your efforts. You should be allowed to experience the most precious of human emotions; hope. 

Apparently, Ronald Moore believes otherwise. I feel ultimately betrayed in that despite the relevant social and economic issues the writers have sprinkled throughout the seasons, they found it necessary to remind us that we are hell bent on destruction no matter how much we try and redeem ourselves.

We are destructive. We’ve known this from the very beginning. We know this as we read our daily news and surf our internet.  I don’t see why it was necessary to offer another glimpse into what looked like nuclear holocaust when it was exactly what we were running from years ago.

So yeah Ron, would you kindly go fuck yourself. I wanted to hold onto my happy ending as long as possible and just as you took families and homes away from my friends and foes alike, you took the only driving force capable of bringing us back from the brink.

Right now, my hope is gone as I sit upon my Earth and look out upon a wasteland I so desperately wanted to call home.

Part of me is relieved the series isn’t over just yet, but part of me dreads where this will lead all of us in the year to come.

***Warning: Contains Spoilers from this season’s “Battlestar Galatica”. ***

I have suddenly realized why I turn off the TV at 11:00 p.m EST every Friday night, perplexed, angry, crying and sad. Ronald Moore has taken my hand and together we lead a very slow funeral procession. I have experienced every single emotion while watching the show this season and as time has gone by and each episode ends, it has not gotten any easier to bare the weight of these feelings.

I can not fault the actors for their powerful performances. Especially Chief and Roslin. Leoben is also extremely believable and even though every part of my body wants to run, I can’t help but be drawn into his charismatic drive to believe in something greater than himself.

As I grow older, the beat of my own heart grows louder as I am faced with my own mortality. I used to laugh at 30-somethings who would converse about death and worry about the end of their existence. I was too busy living in the moment to even contemplate such wary and depressing things. Yet, I glance at my children and then to my father who has stared death in the face a few times in his short life and I start to grow paranoid of my own fragility.

Ronald Moore knows his audience.

Every Friday, he bombards us with questions of faith, sometimes harsh exploration of belief and it is all done very convincingly. This season has been extremely hard for me to watch, and not because I know the series ends after X episodes. It’s because when I look at Cheif Tyrol reacting to major life changing events, or Laura Roslin dealing with her crisis of faith in the face of death, or even Kara Thrace, so uncomfortable in what should be familiarity; there is resonance. There are moments when my heart beats so fiercely in my chest as I see myself wholeheartedly responding the same way, challenging the same things and facing the sometimes horrifying realizations in life and my eventual death.

I dread the last episode, I really do. Part of me wants the happy ending, but one of the reasons I fell in love with BSG was because of its true-to-life tangents. I could relate to these flawed humans and cylons alike.

If the humans do make it to Earth, (which apparently is already mixed with Cylons as we learned from tonight’s episode) I do not see a fairytale ending. Although, I will be thankful for a show that actually made me think about things and who’s writers weren’t afraid to journey across any sacred and politically correct border.