Do you have any idea how excited I was about this show 2 months ago? And now? Now, I’m just sad. This should have been the most insanely awesome season of Torchwood the world has ever seen.
I loved the darker sexier little brother of Dr. Who when the series premiered. I adore Captain Jack and fell in love with his new cohorts. The show was charming and disturbing, heart breaking and funny. And Welsh. Oh how I miss Ianto and his beautiful Welsh accent. Then came Children of Earth and it was dazzling. Torchwood completely stepped out of the shadow of Dr. Who stood on its own, and blew me completely the fuck away. I waited for 2 years, nearly burning up with the anticipation. What could possibly top this???
Torchwood: Miracle Day makes me mad, in much the same way that I infuriated most of my teachers growing up. So much potential, so much promise, and yet…
I put off blogging about Miracle Day until it was done hoping beyond hope for Mr. Davies to pull something out of his magic hat that would make me jump back from the screen and flagellate myself for ever having doubted him. I’m still waiting.
I don’t know what happened. They did everything right. They staffed the show with entirely fantastic writers. There is not a single person credited with writing Miracle Day that I wouldn’t kill to learn from or work with. But it just didn’t feel like Torchwood.
Jack and Gwen felt like slim Slitheen wearing Jack and Gwen suits. Esther and Rex didn’t engage me. I still don’t understand why Oswald Danes was there. The only character that grabbed me at all was Jilly.
My boyfriend and I have pretty much decided that Miracle Day might actually have been kind of wonderful if they had edited it down to 3-5 episodes. Also, Also, the reason Jack is immortal isn't because of something special or hinky in his blood but because Rose FREAKIN Tyler decided that he should be a fixed fucking point in time. He never should have been able to have been made mortal and shouldn't have been able to bestow Rose's gift/curse onto anyone else!!! Deep breath in...and out... and nerd rant over.
I don't want to be an armchair quarterback here. Who am I? I have a blog. Oooooh aren’t I just the Big Bad? No. No, I’m not. I’ve written one novel that couldn’t even get past the interns at a single Lit Agency, and a few pieces of flash that have made their way out into the world via online lit mags. That’s it. I’m just a blogger.
After the first couple of episodes the evil blogger in me did want to spew vitriol and tear the whole thing down. But that’s not what this is about. This is me showing my virtual therapist about where the bad man touched me.
This season, it’s like date rape. I invited Torchwood into my dorm room because we had grown to be such good friends then Miracle Day slipped a roofie into my solo cup and I woke up with crabs.
Did I go too far there?
I arrived at Starbucks with the intention of starting the rewrite of my novel with it’s new narrator, so I thought I better blog instead. I wish this post had a purpose, some conclusion to share with you, some piece of enlightenment to add to the world and elucidate truths about the creative process and the journey of mankind so that if anyone who ever watched or worked on Miracle Day happened to stumble upon this blog they would walk away from the computer feeling a bit of closure and hope. It doesn’t. Not even a little bit. So, instead, I leave you with this:
**this picture was shown to me by Patrick Scaffido who is a whiny bitch and wanted you all to know that I didn't find this on my own.