While many of the series’ perennial problems with characterisation and performance remained (after three series Jack Harkness still works better as a supporting character in Doctor Who than a lead in his own show), here was at last an alien invasion plotline that felt appropriately epic and significant.  Perhaps it helped that this storyline didn’t require any unconvincing FX shots of aliens storming the Eiffel Tower or Taj Mahal, instead the invasion was neatly kept at the conceptual level.

Having dealt with the business of dismantling Torchwood – and indeed Torchwood - as we know it, the remaining four episodes in this mini series were free to delve deep (perhaps deeper than we have ever previously seen in the Doctor Who universe) into the difficult politics of “greater goods” and impossible decision-making, revelling in protocol and pseudo-authentic sounding bureaucratic speak.  Perhaps the highlight of the whole week was the protracted sequence in which the cabinet sat around discussing the most appropriate selection criteria by which they could choose their sacrificial 10% of the world’s youth population.  This was utterly gripping, not just because of the impossibility of the task, but for the amount of screen time the debate was allowed to eat up – for a moment there Torchwood came to resemble a superior stage play in which a great moralistic issues is scrupulously weighed and examined, each protagonist adopting a different intellectual position and locking horns with one another.

The portrayal of the “456″ was equally well measured and balanced.  As a viewer we instinctively knew their effect would be all the more menacing if they remained enigmatic.  Strange tentacles aside, it was to the production’s credit that we never actually got a proper look at them.  Nor did we ever get a handle on where they came from, or their wider motivation, beyond looking for their next hit.  Being denied any understanding of the 456′s psychology kept us all on our toes.

Let’s be clear, so good was this series that for once it didn’t seem to matter that Captain Jack’s initial plan to vanquish the 456 consisted of nothing more than telling them to sling their hook, nor did we really care that any organisation sufficiently advanced to create spy camera contact lenses would surely be able to come up with a sufficiently undetectable microphone.  Set against a properly serious and ambitious story that put its characters into genuinely difficult physical and moral situations, any objections to Peter Capaldi’s somehow unrealistic looking attire couldn’t help but melt away.

While Doctor Who has shown there is a way to do science fiction on telly that will appeal to a mass audience, Torchwood: Children of Earth showed us that with the right storyline and the right schedule, you can lead a mass audience into an appreciation of the kind of serious television sci-fi that many thought lost since the heyday of Nigel Kneale.  Now that’s a shock ending.

We pan across a Cardiff street where Gwen Cooper (Eve Myles) is standing in front of a cash machine.  A mundane tableau, except that Gwen looks just like a character out of a TV drama.  Is it her immaculately styled hair? Or perhaps the way she seems to be wearing a costume rather than clothes?  The best science fiction succeeds in making the incredible feel credible, but that’s something that from the evidence of this opening episode is still beyond Torchwood‘s grasp.

It’s not obvious whether this level of stylisation is deliberate, or whether the production team are earnestly trying to make the world of Torchwood appear authentic.  If it’s the latter, it’s just not working.  In this episode we’re presented with Peter Capaldi (playing Permanent Secretary to the Home Office, John Frobisher), who is clearly a character that is meant to be steeped in sophisticated politicking.  However, this is all rather undermined by the fact he is dressed to look like a cross between the Demon Headmaster and an all too archetypal civil servant.

Then there’s the government computer system.  If a common-or-garden university network can track which accounts are active on which computers, you’d think the government’s PCs could at least do something similar.  Here, armed only with someone else’s log in details, junior PA Lois Habiba (Cush Jumbo) is able to access all sorts of confidential information – it just doesn’t feel believable.

We’re not asking here for authenticity – merely credibility.  It is said that when writing State of Play Paul Abbott didn’t research how investigative journalism actually works, he just made it up.  Whilst he might have got things wrong, there was always an air of plausibility to his newsroom.  Conversely the government machinations in Torchwood never feel authentic.

Mind you, in other aspects Torchwood: Children of Earth was really quite good.  Doctor Rupesh Patanjali (Rik Makarem) looked for all the world as if he was destined to become a Torchwood operative but – in a neat twist on our expectations – he was revealed in the episode’s last act as something more sinister.

Paul Copley’s performance as Clem MacDonald was also well worth watching, but then Copley is the type of actor that Torchwood needs – able to live up to the over-inflated realism of the lead characters, while still grounding his performance in authenticity.

And it all moved along at quite a pace too – this speediness in part thanks to the fact that the central storyline of (what seems to be) an oncoming alien invasion is one that most viewers will be very familiar with, meaning we could quickly fill in the gaps in the plotline as they came and went.

From here it’s going to whip along, such that by the end of the week it’ll all be done – and that perhaps is the most commendable thing about this third series – it’s probably going to be great fun. You’ve seen the (flawed) series, now enjoy the (equally flawed) rollercoaster ride – just don’t look too closely at the joins.

Just how will daily doses of adult telefantasy fare on BBC1 next week?

It’s undoubtedly a courageous move of the Beeb to schedule such a niche programme in primetime five nights on the trot.

But there’s been a lot of publicity (in Radio Times at least) and the fact there’s nothing much new on the other channels might work in its favour.

Here’s an episode-by-episode prediction:

Monday
No big-hitters to compete with the debut episode, and this plus the novelty factor plus a few people’s hope of seeing an appearance by Dr Who means Torchwood will probably win the slot. It’ll be close, though, seeing as how Coronation Street prefaces ITV’s 9pm offering, while BBC1 has Panorama.

Most watched, in order:
Torchwood (BBC1)
Real Crime (ITV)
The Supersizers Eat…The French Revolution (BBC2)
The Hotel Inspector (C5)
Inside Nature’s Giants (C4)

with Torchwood getting 5.4m

Tuesday
There’ll be some inevitable seepage here, a phrase that seems somehow apt for Torchwood, as interest wanes and the twin guns of Big Brother and Ladette to Lady swing into action.

Most watched:
Ladette to Lady (ITV)
Torchwood (BBC1)
Big Brother (C4)
CSI: Miami (C5)
Girl with a Pearl Earring (BBC2)

with Torchwood getting 4.9m

Wednesday
Second prize again tonight, although if Big Brother wasn’t in decline it would have been third place. More people will give up on the show when they realise they’re only halfway through and Dr Who still hasn’t turned up. A rubbish sitcom about war journalism could push BBC2 into last place for the second night running.

Most watched:
Trial and Retribution (ITV)
Torchwood (BBC1)
Big Brother (C4)
Panic Room (C5)
Taking the Flak (BBC2)

with Torchwood getting 4.1m

Thursday
Third place, thanks to Trial and Retribution and a new series of Mock the Week. It might even be fourth, if Gerry Robinson trying to save a pie-and-pasty firm proves more appealing than John Barrowman trying to save the time-space continuum.

Most watched:
Trial and Retribution (ITV)
Mock the Week (BBC2)
Torchwood (BBC1)
Gerry’s Big Decision (C4)
The Mentalist (C5)

with Torchwood getting 3.6m

Friday
Will there be a sudden surge of interest as the end nears and, according to Radio Times, “Gwen stands alone when the final sanction begins”? It feels unlikely, and any boost in viewers won’t be enough to push it back up the chart. Instead it could well sink down to fourth, given the competition.

Most watched:
Doc Martin (ITV)
RHS Hampton Court Flower Show (BBC2)
Big Brother (C4)
Torchwood (BBC1)
NCIS (C5)

with Torchwood getting 3.8m

 Ashes to Ashes has consistently mystified, with episodes regularly grinding to a halt halfway through for some oddly unrevealing moments of characterisation (the end of last Thursday’s ep where Gene Hunt offers an apology seemed particularly pointless). Meanwhile, Torchwood infuriatingly continues to miss the mark. The whole thing seems compromised by a kids’ show premise sitting in an adult drama. You get the sense the production team is so confused by the series, they’ve lost any sense of what a good episode of Torchwood should look like. Series two hasn’t been completely crap, but it’s continued to underperform.

It’s Lost then, that I am turning to for my telefantasy kicks at the moment. This fourth series has been taut and adrenalized. The key moment for me occurred some weeks back when Jack asked Faraday to explain why he was running strange experiments on the island. The traditional prevarication then ensued, and I was left assuming that the answers Jack was looking for would be withheld for weeks on end. But just five minutes later, Faraday was outlining the whole theory regarding the island being caught up in some kind of time vortex thingy. What a relief to get some answers.

I’m not sure if the 60-odd hour investment in watching the first three series to start getting these kind of pay offs is entirely worth it, but the episode in which Desmond started jumping through time, was quite simply the best slice of telefantasy I’ve seen since ‘Blink’, and remarkably complex and high-concept for a mainstream TV series.

Completely unrelated, but a quick nod of appreciation too for Virgin 1′s American Inventor.

For those who griped about series one last year, there’ll be little to appease them here. Everyone still fancies everyone, it’s violent, glib, swaggering. I think it’s terrifically entertaining (an early scene features James Marsters dressed as Adam Ant, strolling into a nightclub telling all the people he doesn’t fancy to go home). Yes, it’s still a bit silly, but this time out – if anything – it knows that. Later on, Ianto tells Jack to search the roof of a building, commenting that he’s good on roofs. Oh, and right at the start, as the team turn up in pursuit of the aforementioned motoring fish, a witness mutters, “Bloody Torchwood” as they roll on by in the Mystery Machine.

The obvious main headline from the morning, I think, was the fact the show is going to get a pre-watershed repeat, meaning there’ll be a “clean” version in circulation sans the swearing and violence. But not the same sex snogging. That stays in. Oh, and James Marsters – who plays Jack’s former Time Agency colleague – will be returning later in the run. “I’ve found Gray,” he muttered enigmatically, as he disappeared into the rift, setting up this year’s over-arching macguffin – which Jack, of course, refused to talk about.

What else? Well, Andrew Cartmel was in attendance, although I’m guessing purely in the role of an interested onlooker.

As the morning drew on, I interviewed Eve Myles, who was effusive and fun. Gwen gets married this year! And Rhys finds out about her day (or is that night?) job! Would she appear in Doctor Who? “I’m not in the next series,” she said – the qualification piquing my interest, before Barrowman walked over and groped her tits.

Come lunchtime, it was face-to-face with the man himself. Clearly a little tired from the morning’s press activity, he seemed a tad “off-duty” and more candid than normal. Despite the previous incident, there was little innuendo here. As a result, I found him fascinating. I asked him about the slightly frosty fan reaction to series one. 

“It’s usually the fan sites that have the problem,” he said. “The public don’t have the problem. You think it would be the other way around. I don’t know what the fan sites want. We try to give them science fiction, we try to give them stories that are bizarre, we try to give them characters who do outrageous things that are off-the-wall. And when you give it to them, they’re still … I don’t know what it is. What we have to really establish is, we’re not Doctor Who. And if you’re looking forDoctor Who, you’re looking at the wrong show.” 

My pet theory is fans are alienated by the overt sexuality in the show. The original run of Who was asexual, making it comfortable viewing for – how can I put this? – those who perhaps aren’t able to express their erotic desires.

“See, I disagree with you,” said Barrowman, “because all the fans I talk to are so glad. The letters that I get, and the emails I get are people saying, ‘Thank goodness for finally representing the omni-sexuality of somebody, because it reflects how I really am!’. So I just think, to be honest, the problem comes from the people from the old school. The new school of the Whovians and the Woodies – I call ‘em – are the ones who are more savvy. The old school are from the classic series. You know what? It’s long gone! It’s a piece of history. It stands on its own. I’m a fan, I love it, I still love watching them. But the new Who, Torchwood? We’re different. You can’t compare us to the other one. And I think that’s where the problem is. Get over it!”

Anyway, I sense I’m rambling a bit now. So I’ll bring this entry to a close with a couple more snippets. Both from Barrowman. First up, he owns every bit of merchandise with his face on it (plus the bullets he shot at that Dalek back in series one). And, two, he seems genuinely unsure if he’ll do a further series of Torchwood. Not that he wants to stop playing Jack, but he seemed to have huge issues with the production of the show. 

“We’ll see how things work out, I haven’t made any decisions. If we do get the go-ahead, I’ll really have to sit down and think about it. It’s not the commitment. Honestly, this last series was a bit of a nightmare at times, because of bad scheduling. Because of production things going wrong …”

BBC America’s contingent consists of the creators and cast of Jekyll, Torchwood and Hotel Babylon and it’s mainly the likes of Steven Moffat, James Nesbitt, Julie Gardener, John Barrowman and Tony Head answering left of field questions as graciously as possible.

Moffat has caused something of a stir in the US for the following exchange probably because of his customary honesty which absolutely goes against the usual policy over there of ass-kissing the network heads:

Reporter: Steven, why was (the BBC) version of Coupling such a success and the NBC version – it tanked?
Steven Moffat: I so enjoy answering that question. I’ve only been asked it 24 times today. All right. I can answer it with three letters, N-B-C. Very, very good writing team. Very, very good cast. The network fucked it up because they intervened endlessly. If you really want a job to work, don’t get Jeff Zucker’s team to come help you with it … because they’re not funny. All right? There you go. I can say that because I don’t care about working for NBC. But I think I’m entitled to say that because I think the way in which NBC slagged off the creative team on American Coupling after its failure was disgraceful and traitorous. So I enjoy slagging them off. That’s the end of my career in LA. I’ll be leaving shortly.
James Nesbitt: Taxi for Moffat!

All of which is probably correct but the first episode of UK Coupling wasn’t as funny as some of the later classics and like many series it arguably took a few weeks, even the whole first run perhaps to bed in and take flight (and even then not everyone was a fan). US television rarely has that luxury unfortunately [via].

“When the programme-makers first contacted me,” said Elisabeth Sladen in interview recently, “I thought they were calling me about Torchwood. ‘Ooh,’ I said, ‘I’m going to be in the 9pm slot for once! I’m going to be grown up!’.”

But, from the excerpt I’ve seen, this is absolutely, deafeningly a kids’ show, with a lot of the action told from the point of view of the juvenile lead, Maria. Sarah is very much portrayed as “the other”, a fantastic, mysterious person who chats to aliens (one of whom has, fittingly, dropped in from Torchwood) on her back lawn. The baddy – Samantha Bond – is just this side of a cartoon, and that’s how it should be.

Word of mouth about this show is already good. Unsurprisingly, I’m excited.

I mean, if Torchwood existed for real that wouldn’t happen – it just wouldn’t. Similarly, its agents wouldn’t simply down tools at the end of their shift and go home – there would be protocols, screenings, and – you know – stuff that comes with working for a top secret organisation.

Similarly, one of the reasons I didn’t enjoy series two of Extras was that it also failed to be plausible. Would the BBC really make a mainstream comedy series with wigs, laughter tracks etc that contained a sequence which ended with a character singing the words “covered in shit”? Oh, and would a series still part way through its first run be eligible for a BAFTA at that year’s awards?

But the question is do such things really matter? Should the viewer just simply “go with it” and judge Extras or Torchwood on their respective merits as drama and comedy? I sense there is a school of thought out there that would support this view and would basically categorize those viewers who can’t get past such inaccuracies as stick-in-the-muds. Well, maybe we are, but there are real problems with these breaches of reality – to whit: a) they pull you out of the fiction (it’s quite difficult to care about Gwen arsing around with the alien projector thing when you’re too busy moaning about the fact she would never have been able to take it home in the “real” world); and b) they feel like expediencies to allow the writer to create a situation that couldn’t be constructed in a more elegant manner.

Now of course Torchwood is essentially a telefantasy series, so aren’t we being wilfully nit picky to complain about the obvious lack of an office cleaner, while happily accepting the notion of an invisible lift? That’s not the issue though, the problem with Torchwood is that it doesn’t seem to possess a stable sense of internal reality. We can swallow the fact that Ian Beale has had umpteen wives and Albert Square has the highest murder rate in the country, but that’s because we know EastEnders‘ relationship with reality is consistent. The programme is not very “real” but, crucially, the degree of its not “realness” remains the same from episode to episode, scene to scene (let’s call it reality + 10 per cent).

On the other hand, at points Torchwood seems very much like our world, with (almost) the same laws of pointless bureaucracy and everyday drudgery applying. But then moments later, just when you think you’ve got a hang of which particular adjunct from the real world the programme is occupying, it does something silly like have the other members of the Torchwood team sit around laughing and gawping while one of their number has been lured into a cell by a dangerous sex-mad alien.

This is a legitimate gripe, I think, but I sense it’s one that’s being dismissed by those who think we should just jump on and enjoy the ride. Well I would like to, but not until I know who pays Torchwood’s salaries, and whether or not they have to file a tax return each year.

In the same way big screen versions of stage musicals used to have professional vocalists “singing” the parts of the lead actors, so it might be advisable to have professional scribes employed to “write” the scripts of Russell T Davies.

Sure, the man has killer ideas, dramatic vision and a flair for neat casting, but rarely can he put decent sounding words into the mouths of his characters. It was true for Doctor Who, as it was for Queer as Folk, as it was for Bob and Rose and so it proved again in the first episode of Torchwood. He just seems to have precious little ear for dialogue and almost no flair for what every decent adventure series needs: witty bon mots and wry pay-offs.

Instead this ultra-important, desperately crucial flagship debut for BBC3′s biggest ever TV serial resounded to the likes of, “Walked here – I bloody walked!”, “That’s just a pterodactyl,” “I’d like to see CSI Cardiff!”. And perhaps worse of all, the exchange between the previously unimpeachable Captain Jack Harkness and the newly-enlisted Gwen Cooper: “I can’t die.” “Okay”. “But I can’t.”

One bunch of people who will be unequivocally happy with the first episode of Torchwood, however, is the Welsh Tourist Board. Whenever Davies ran out of thunderously banal one-liners and unfunny gags, he provided us with a series of, admittedly impressive, aerial shots of Cardiff. This could apparently only be bettered by aerial shots of someone standing on a tall building … looking across Cardiff.

This was a show where appearances mattered above all else, yet first impressions proved sorely wanting. Glamorous-looking rain doesn’t work for this country. It’s fine for America, but in the UK rain has to look dirty and desolate or else it just – ahem – doesn’t wash. Watching our ostensible heroes processing through a rainbow of twinkling droplets, only to then see a Welsh forensic expert cussing effusively, was like being pulled not merely between varying moods but different continents.

Here, as throughout the episode, were perfectly formed and beautifully filmed individual pieces of drama never quite managing to resolve into a jigsaw of coherently-ordered entertainment. And as proceedings continued, vignettes of emotion and fragments of speech that felt like they could function perfectly well in isolation just made no impact arranged in sequence.

So while it was exciting to see the way Gwen Cooper encountered her first alien by way of a tense advance along a corridor, it was unfortunate she had to precede this with an undignified harrumph up endless flights of dull office block stairs. And while it was thrilling to watch Captain Jack casually drug her by way of a spiked drink, it was utterly bizarre that he had to follow this with a casual stroll through a Cardiff shopping centre.

In short, your reactions as a viewer were constantly shuttled between engagement and detachment. At one point the action was pulling you in; the next pushing you away. Maybe if the characterisations had been uniformly compelling, and the characters given uniform opportunities to compel you to watch them, the episode’s scaffolding wouldn’t have appeared so uneven.

Fundamentally, the Torchwood gang didn’t really demonstrate the point of their existence. This first episode needed a potent threat or self-evident dilemma for this cosmos-tinkering youth club to get its teeth into, rather than settle for having them make their entrance by way of putting a pillowcase over the head of an alien rat.

The final scenes were the most unconvincing of all. Killing off a character that had only been on screen a total of five minutes, about whom we know little and care even less, is fine as a means to an end. When it is the end, however, and an end we’re made to think is a barnstorming jaw-dropping one (cue more flashing lights and sweeping views), you don’t just feel cheated, you feel used.

Davies has always loved instructing his audiences to read giant consequences into trivial matters, and usually gets away with it by coating such machinations in a generous layer of self-deprecation. This time, though, it was all po-faced preaching and moody stares: devices which conspired to render the dénouement even more of a trifling concern, and the viewer even more of a pawn in a rather shabbily constructed turn of events.

There was no earthly reason why Torchwood’s second in command Suzie Costello, upon being unmasked as a traitor, should promptly choose to shoot herself in the head. Given the little we knew about her, there was no unearthly reason either. It was shock for schlock’s sake. The ensuing shot of Jack and Gwen standing – yes – on top of a large building for no reason afforded no commensurate emotional release. It was just two people on top of another large building.

Overall, what began as an intriguing and subtle fish-out-of-water escapade ended in an indifferent and boring shoot-’em-up. Nowhere near enough had been done on the part of those behind and in front of the camera to convince you as to why Gwen would want to spend one second longer in the company of these self-obsessed, flash, fast-talking techno-tykes.

Contrast this with the intriguing and subtle fish-out-of-water escapade Davies provided by way of episode one of Doctor Who. At the end of those particular 45 minutes, it was entirely obvious why Rose would so desperately want to run off with a man she knew little about and embrace his lifestyle completely. There was no parallel impetus here. It felt like Gwen opted to stick around Jack and co because, well, she could. But if she suddenly changed her mind, well, there was always whathisname back home cooking up another plate of something or other. Meantime, isn’t that a nice view of Cardiff Bay?

There was an arrogant emptiness at the heart of this first episode of Torchwood which not even Russell T Davies’s relish for the disingenuous could fill. With such a high-profile proposition, generous budget and auspicious timeslot to play with, the fact he and his colleagues offered up something ultimately so lumpen was a real ungentlemanly act. Either you say what you mean or mean what you say, but at the very least you say something of substance and valour.

Perhaps it’s simply down to how much you trust Davies to treat you with respect and deliver a return on your commitment to watch. The episode title, “Everything Changes”, could have been chosen to further persuade the viewer of the degree of flux and uncertainty facing somebody who’s just discovered dead people can be brought back to life. On the other hand, it could have been chosen because it’s Davies’ favourite Take That song.

One thing cannot be another. Torchwood needs to decide between nihilistic sleuthing and camp whimsy. When it’s made the decision, the rest – including decent endings – will follow.

IAN LEVINE: Russell, if Captain Jack is coming back to the last three episodes of season three of Doctor Who, what happens when…

RUSSELL T DAVIES: [Cutting him off] This is a Doctor Who question.

IAN LEVINE: It’s not about Doctor Who! It’s a Torchwood question! What happens if you go to Torchwood series two – which I hope you will – and he’s in Doctor Who?

RUSSELL T DAVIES: I can’t tell you that now! [Laughs] You’d wouldn’t ask Agatha fucking Christie whodunnit! Next question!

IAN LEVINE: But in Torchwood series two…

RUSSELL T DAVIES: Ian, no offence, you’re not a journalist, so fuck off.

Anyway, the news is, Torchwood is ace. And there was I expecting not to be wowed by the notion of a Cardiff-based killing-aliens division – assuming a homogenous line-up of square-jawed heroes would leave me cold (too macho, too clinical, too goal-orientated). But not a bit of it. The team of characters just feel right. Aside from there being a finely judged mixture of archetypes, we’re also shown insights into their personal lives pretty much from the off. And that’s maybe where the This Life references have sprung from. This is an ensemble show, populated with interesting people the viewer wants to be with.

If I had one reservation – and, contractually, I must – I’d say it’s a shame the show hasn’t been pitched at a family audience. Why? Simply because some of the concepts (a particular “magic” paving stone outside Cardiff’s Millenium Centre, for one) are exactly the right mix of the mundane and fantastic to excite a child’s imagination. The eight-year-old me would have gone nuts over some of the ideas here.

But then, the thirtysomething me is going nuts too, but that’s because of the news Chris Chibnall reads OTT. Not just that, he actually looks in on this blog. Regulary. Quick, everyone, look busy! Truthfully, though, I dunno what’s more gob-smacking – the fact he was kind enough to tell me so at the post-screening shindig (and secure his mention here today), or that I was actually standing in a room with two people who read this thing!* To me, that’s science-fiction.

* Nick Setchfield from SFX magazine, your continued patronage is also greatly appreciated.