After a lengthy absence, the highly popular but critically maligned Torchwood returned with a stunning mini-series event that finally established it as a dramatic force to be reckoned with, something that can no longer be easily dismissed as a snickering schoolboy idea of “adult” Dr Who.  Spoiler filled discussion coming up after the break.

It’s somewhat ironic that Torchwood finally arrives as the sort of show you’d really miss at the exact moment when its continuation seems highly unlikely, not because it isn’t popular enough to continue but because Torchwood itself has more or less been destroyed.  The Cardiff headquarters of the team has been destroyed, and the only surviving members after Children of Earth are Eve Myles’s fetching Gwen Cooper and John Barrowman’s charming but now battered and broken Capt. Jack Harkness, neither of whom is in a position to defend the Earth against much of anything when we last see them.

Not since Buffy the Vampire Slayer split town at the end of her second season can I recall another series lead as shattered by what they have done as Capt. Jack Harkness, forced now to live with having put his own grandson Steven to a horrible and painful death in order to save the lives of millions of other children, losing not only his grandson but also his daughter in the process.  And whilst his daughter Alice remains alive, it’s quite clear that she may never be able to forgive her father for the damage he has wrought.

***

Ultimately, the success of Torchwood: Children of Earth rests on the shoulders of John Barrowman.

In a character trajectory worthy of Shakespeare, Capt. Jack pays a tragic price for his own cavalier actions.  Chosen in 1965 to deliver twelve orphans to the disgusting and repellant 4-5-6 aliens, Jack is an ideal candidate for the job because, as another character puts it, the government knew that he wouldn’t care one way or the other.  For his capacity to stay emotionally and morally out of reach, Jack is the ideal man to do something so monstrous, if logically sensible.  Yet, when the 4-5-6 return demanding millions more children, Jack must pay the price for his earlier compliance, a price that involves sacrificing almost everyone who matters to him, from his lover, to his daughter to his grandson.

When Children of Earth begins, we see Jack blithely decline to get involved with the mystery of patients disappearing from an NHS hospital.  His reason?  Getting involved with NHS means dealing with too much red tape.  By the end, Jack learns this fundamental lack of seriousness, flying by the seat of his pants and expecting to win on bluster and good intentions is a formula for catastrophe.  It may work for Time Lords, but Jack Harkness comes to realize a bit too late that he isn’t a Time Lord.  By the time he comes to this realization, his boyfriend Ianto lies pointlessly dead at his feet, part of the collateral damage resulting from Jack’s arrogant and reckless assumption that the 4-5-6 could be defeated with little more than his wits.

It’s a pretty interesting treatment of a character who was introduced in Dr Who as a swaggering, devil-may-care type whose primary appeal to the audience was as a charming scoundrel.  Some people at the time complained that Capt. Jack became too dour and serious during Torchwood’s first season, and he was comparatively closer to his Dr Who level of charm in Series Two.  Doubtless some will be unhappy with the end result of Children of Earth and what it says about Jack’s character, but the more serious treatment here resonates with me far more.  I liked the charming scoundrel of Dr Who, but I’ll probably never forget the tragic hero of Torchwood.

***

In a fine performance throughout Children of Earth, Lucy Cohu travels a heart-wrending arc as she tries to protect her son whilst reconciling her conflicting feelings for her father.  As most daughters would, she loves her father and recognizes his goodness but also knows instinctively that he is dangerous and somehow fundamentally…wrong.  I’ll touch upon that a little more in a moment, but kudos to Cohu for a touching performance.

One of the masterful things about the script is how it tightens the screws against its characters, sparing no one.  That’s why it is particularly heartbreaking to see Alice’s love for, and trust in, her father ultimately blow up in her face and lead directly to the death of Steven.  It is her own open-heartedness that starts the chain of events that leads to her son’s death.  If she hadn’t cared, if she’d stuck to her guns after chasing Jack off on Day One, if she hadn’t tried to find out if Jack was okay, the government never would have realized her significance, and if she hadn’t exposed herself, her son probably wouldn’t have died.  These are dreadful, dreadful things for someone to live with, and Cohu plays them masterfully.

***

Trying to make the best of awful possibilities cuts right to the heart of what is so masterfully done in Torchwood: Children of Earth.  As terrifying as the 4-5-6 are, and as hideous are their plans to use the children as narcotics, the real resonance of the mini-series comes from the exploration of humanity’s capacity to tolerate evil and to make tiny evil choices even amidst larger crises.

Children of Earth asks the question: what would you do if faced with extinction?  How far can you go to avoid that and still maintain your humanity?  Where is the line that, once crossed, negates your worthiness of being saved at all?

These are all very difficult, complex questions, questions without easy answers, and whilst it is easy to hold the loathsome Prime Minister (deftly played by Brian Green) in contempt for his cowardice as he focuses on minimizing his own political damage, it is not so easy to dismiss the cold, awful logic of the scene where he, his underlings and other representatives of the Earth’s governments hash out the details of which children should be sacrificed.  Faced with such a no-win scenario, Children of Earth asks, what would you do, and how do you live with yourself afterward?  Not since Kenneth Branagh and his fellow Nazis hashed out the details of Jewish genocide in the riveting HBO drama Conspiracy has an act of evil been so chillingly portrayed on television.  Not bad for a Dr Who knockoff, really.

***

Speaking of Dr Who, Torchwood: Children of Earth demonstrates nicely Russell T Davies’s ability to straddle the ground between the very tonally different worlds of Who and Torchwood.  It’s worth noting that this isn’t the first time that the fundamental wrongness of Jack’s existence that I mentioned above has been touched upon.

In Who, the Doctor’s revulsion over Jack’s immortality is lightly touched upon as a somewhat ham-handed lesson in tolerance and then ultimately set aside.

Here, though, we see that Jack’s immortality is, indeed, something to pity and abhor, providing in a sense little more than the ability to alienate people and commit sins and transgressions that would seem impossible to live with over a longer length of time than ordinary humans could ever manage, all without the ultimate release (and relief, perhaps) of death.

***

I cannot say enough about the quality of the performances in Torchwood: Children of Earth.  There’s nary a false note from anyone, from the crude security guard who can’t control his libido when faced with Gwen Cooper down to the charming and good-humored performances by the young girls who played the doomed daughters of John Frobisher.

Special praise must go to Paul Copley for his touching performance as Clem.  He tapped into Clem’s childlike core beautifully, never seeming like the older man he is but always like an eleven year old boy who never got the chance to grow up properly.  It was impossible not to share his panic every time he senses the presence of the 4-5-6, and it’s a testament to his performance that I wanted to hug him almost as much as Gwen did.  Every time his face turned red, every time he squeezed out a few more tears, my heart seized up in empathy and sympathy.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Peter Capaldi also turned in exceptional work as Frobisher, showing us a man who’s clearly in over his head and, whilst obviously intelligent, isn’t quite smart enough to fully appreciate the noose that is tightening around his neck, deceiving himself into thinking that there’s an upside to the amount of responsibility placed on his head by the craven and cowardly Prime Minister, unwilling or unable to immediately anticipate how terrible is the position he is in.

Frobisher’s role as a villainous force in the plot cannot be glossed over, but by the last time we see him, preparing to commit the unthinkable act of murdering his entire family and himself, it’s very hard not to empathize with his plight.  Few of us know for sure how we would respond when faced with such a deplorable situation, and Mr. Capaldi does an exemplary job of letting us see the journey.

Other people deserving of praise include Ian Gelder for his portrayal of the creepy Mr. Decker, a man who can hardly conceal his relishing of the 4-5-6 problem, sparing no opportunity to indulge in Schadenfreude, whether by tweaking Frobisher over the 1965 incident or by informing Jack of how, exactly, they will transmit the wave that will kill the 4-5-6.

Really, praise goes out to everyone involved, and if I fail to give adequate notice to everyone else, it’s only because I want to keep this review from getting too lengthy.  Kudos to everyone.

***

This is dark, grim, black stuff, exactly the sort of material that I’d begun to doubt Russell T Davies was capable of delivering any longer.  As a long-time fan of Dr Who, I was delirious with its return in 2005, yet the joy and, frankly, interest has been lessening each subsequent year, to the point where I greeted the news that he would be stepping down and handing the reigns over to Steven Moffat with excitement, not merely because I like his writing so much but also because I was eager for some fresh new blood in the creative process.

Yet with Children of Earth, I have to admit that one should never underestimate the creative powers of Russell T Davies.  I still think it’s a good thing for someone else to take the creative helm at this point, but I’m now very eager to see what RTD has up his sleeve next.

***

And so Torchwood ends, grimly yet gloriously, too.  Time heals all wounds, they say, and one can’t help but pray that this will be true some day for Capt. Jack Harkness, the immortal man fixed in time and space, with all that horrible baggage that comes with such a fate.

I don’t like to mix politics and TV talk, generally, and that is why I maintain a separate blog for all of my non-television related blogging.  That said, I’m going to just glance a little bit on politics for a brief moment just to explain why I haven’t been a big fan of Ed Helms for the most part.  It’s probably unfair.  I don’t like The Daily show, and I hate smug liberals.  Since Ed came from The Daily Show, I’ve assumed he was probably a smug liberal and disliked him accordingly.  See?  Rational.  Also a side not to any liberal readers:  I said “smug” liberals, so I probably don’t mean you, okay?  Okay.

But that’s not important, really.  What’s important is that I’ve finally grown to appreciate Andy Bernard in the latest season of The Office, and thanks to tonight’s episode in particular, I’m even borderline loving him. It was probably inevitable because the show has been almost unbearably mean to him all season, and I can’t help but feel for an underdog, even an underdog who’s kind of a doofus.

In the beginning, Andy was brought in as a tiresome sycophant whose job it was to threaten Dwight’s standing as Michael Scott’s second-in-command, and Helms was so good at playing this that I actually found him unappealing and irritating for the longest time.  However, as time has passed, Andy has become a more well-rounded character, particular in the context of his relationship with the inscrutable and treacherous Angela.

What began as a farce, Andy’s relationship with Angela, has steadily progressed into something borderline heartbreaking.  Even though his attraction to her is basically nonsensical, the sincerity of his commitment to her has been touching, and as her treatment of him remains steadily contemptuous, it’s hard not to feel sorry for him.

In tonight’s episode, we finally got to see a more open, vulnerable and hilariously honest side to him as his trip to Canada, combined with Oscar’s prodding and a Long Island ice tea, let us finally see his doubts and pain, albeit just a little.  Nonetheless, there’s a steadiness and constancy in Andy, however misguided, that’s almost noble.  Plus, his efforts to get Oscar laid and willingness to expose himself to ridicule in the process was both kind-hearted and adorable.  His talking head sequence, where he acknowledges that, in spite of everything, he learned that Oscar was a neat guy, was so sweet I thought I might cry.

***

Also in tonight’s episode, we had fun with the various responses of Jim’s officemates to Pam’s impending return.  Kevin’s inappropriate ass-slap was funny enough, as was Stanley’s leery chortle, but Creed’s remarkably creepy shoulder rub was arguably the moment of the night.

It will be nice to get Jenna Fischer back in the main setting after her separation, and I remain glad that the show doesn’t seem to be much interested in making the relationship angsty.  The little touches of ordinary understandable sadness throughout this first batch of episodes has been interesting enough, especially since the show has had some real emotional turmoil in the delightful (alas now sadly ended) Holly-Michael relationship.  As far as that goes, it was a nice touch to let us see that Michael is still suffering from this loss, and it was subtle enough that Michael’s rant against David toward the end was surprising and moving.

I love semi-serious Michael, the overgrown manchild who actually has deeper feelings and passions than we’ve come to expect, and I marvel at the way The Office is able to blend those facets with his clownish buffoonery.  It really is a first-rate program.

***

A few other things that stuck out included how swiftly Daryl was able to move on when Kelly dumped him (as well as the spring in his step as he headed toward his pickup) and the dawning horror of Ryan as he started to realize that he was getting more than he bargained for and repeating past mistakes.  B.J. Novak does a great job of playing Ryan as a man completely oblivious to his worst tendencies.  Watching him in the tag scene subtly try and let go of oblivious Kelly’s hand even as she grips his with both of hers was very funny.

So, to sum up, another first rate episode in a top-notch season.  If you missed it, look for it to pop up on Hulu shortly.

Now let me know what you thought!

Okay, so for some reason my “How I Met Your Mother Posts” are by far the most popular things on this blog.  I don’t really get why that is, unless my readership is mainly a buch of pervs looking for spanking material.  Don’t get me wrong, that’s fine, I suppose.  What I don’t have to witness only makes me stronger.

But here’s the thing: I don’t really have all that much to say about the show.  I enjoy it, overall, although it’s clearly coasting a bit this season.  Don’t misunderstand.  A coasting HIMYM is still superior to the most common sitcoms, especially those involving Jim Belush or produced by Robert L. Boyett or Thomas L. Miller, but watching the show at the moment is more a matter of habit rather than conviction.  In fact, I often don’t even get around to it on Mondays anymore and usually don’t watch it before The Big Bang Theory (which is also problematic, but that’s for another post, maybe).

“Not A Father’s Day” had some good solid laughs and nice character moments.  My favorite was probably not something that most people would even notice.  It was when Barney casually waved away the people in church who were aghast at him taking a cell phone call.  That gesture, so simple yet so imperious, said so much about Barney Stinson, namely that he’s a prick.  And he is, even though we love him for it.

Also fun was the indictment of Ted as a total Dad, which was funny both at face value and also as a meta-commentary on the very series structure itself, and the exposure of Robin’s fear of babies.  For the record, I, too, find talking baby commercials unbearably creepy.

We also got another important lesson in love and singledom this week from Barney via his ingenious “Cheerleader Effect” rule.  It’s always especially fun when I can attest to the veracity of one of Barney’s rules from my own experience, and this one is rock solid.

I didn’t much care one way or the other either for Lily and Marshall’s baby fever plot or Barney’s not-a-father dilemma, and, as is often the case, it’s the little things on the side that really stick out.  Robin being a sardonic shrew making everyone around her miserable, in particular, was hilarious.  Cobie Smulders continues to be my favorite actor on the series, primarily for her willingness to give a pretty masculine performance most weeks.  It really makes her stand out

And that’s all I’ve got, really.  Now I’ll post this, and then sit back and watch as the viewing stats rack up.  Hope you pervs are happy with what you find here!

For everyone else, remember that you can see the show yourself at CBS.com, and if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, drop it in the comments below.  Don’t be shy, jackasses!

POSTSCRIPT:  Oh!  One other thing I noticed: I’m pretty sure that the sequence of Barney dancing down the street after learning he wasn’t going to be a father was a direct homage to the scene in Hannah and Her Sisters where Woody Allen dances down the street after learning he isn’t going to die.  It’s the dixieland jazz that ultimately convinced me.

As much as I love The Shield, it’s getting so tense and ugly and awful that I can hardly bear to watch these final episodes.  I’m completely spoiler-free (and intend to remain so, so no spoilers in the comments, please, or I’ll find you and do things to you.  Bad things.  Vic Mackey bad kinds of things), but it’s clear that almost everyone except maybe Dutch, Claudette, Julian and Billings (of all people) is heading toward a bad end.

Everyone else is compromised:  Ronnie is a murderer.  Vic is now a drug dealer (sort of).  Acevedo is an over-reaching little bitch who’s ambition for political power is nakedly self-serving.  Shane is a thug.  Mara is an armed robbery accomplice (pregnant and with young child in toe — oh how awful).  Even Corrine may not get out of this unscathed, not to mention the long-range damage likely to result from being Mrs. Cop Killer (even ex-Mrs. Cop Killer).

The genius of this last season is the way in which it finally puts everything into perspective in a way that makes the viewer confront exactly who these people are with very little opportunity for obfuscation and also assess what they probably deserve.

I’ve never been one of those viewers who hated Vic Mackey or looked forward to his presumed downfall.  Vic’s a charismatic guy, and I have to confess: he pulled me in and won me over.  Yeah, he murdered a cop in the pilot, but at the end of the first season he was in a bad place.  His wife had left him, depriving him of family, which it was easy to believe was what was ultimately motivating his corrupt behavior back then.  The season ended with Vic suffering, and I felt bad for him, even though he’s a cop murderer.

That was my response to him for most of the series.  I grew to believe that he regretted what he’d done and was making a relatively honest attempt to atone, but ever since this final season began, it’s become impossible to miss that so much of what made Vic forgivable was a facade.  The noose has been steadily tightening on him, and the story has reached a point where we see a man who’s instincts for self-preservation have shown him to be a man capable of at least several more murders, some (Shane) ludicrously justified as revenge and others (Mara) just about as cold-blooded and ruthless as one can imagine.  Add to that Vic’s indifference to how this would destroy Shane and Mara’s living child figuratively (and Mara’s unborn child literally), and it becomes impossible to excuse and impossible to forgive.

I’ve never looked forward to Vic’s downfall, and I still won’t enjoy it, but I can see now how necessary it is.  Also, I get the feeling (and, again, this is pure speculation, as I am completely spoiler free regarding the last two episodes — I won’t even watch the previews since FX is notorious for spoiling entire episodes with them) that Vic’s comeuppance is going to be unusually rough.  I don’t think there’s going to be any easy out.  In other words, I don’t think he’s going to die, either by his hand or anyone else’s.  I think he’s going to go to prison for the rest of his life, alongside the very same scumbags he helped take off the street, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the show gives us some strong indicator that he’s due for a particularly rough time.

I shudder to even think about it.

I realize that I’m writing more about the season as a whole rather than tonight’s episode in particular, so here are just a few quick observations about “Petty Cash.”

***

One of the more fascinating perspectives this last batch of episodes has given us is the presentation of the Strike Team as almost entirely powerless and at the mercy of everyone around them from their fellow cops to the street thugs.  A homeless derelict messing around with Shane was a particular treat this week.  Watching them trying to maneuver as events close in on them has been really compelling.  Ronnie can’t get away from his desk until the very moment when he would prefer to be stuck at his desk, at which point he’s stuck with the squeekiest of clean Julian riding alongside him and eyeballing his every move.  It’s almost pitiful watching him have to enlist a clueless Billings in his efforts to steal Claudette’s mail.

But that pain is nothing compared to Mackey having to orchestrate a drug deal and then having to take orders from street thugs who are currently higher status characters than he is.  We’re starting to get a little glimpse of Vic’s humanity again as he attempts to comfort Corrine and be a good father to his daughter, but it’s clearly too little, too late, and that only serves to make the moments even more awkward.

I’m still curious to know if Corrine has it in her to take her charade all the way to the end.  She has seemed to be getting stronger as a character, but I’m not yet convinced that her strength (the strength to run away from Vic, the strength to turn on him to Claudette) is stronger than her co-dependence.  It’s one thing to leave a man.  It’s another thing entirely to be the catalyst that gets him thrown into prison for the rest of his life, especially when you know this will have a devastating effect upon his children.

It’s nice to see Julian doing some good solid detective work as the series comes to a close, putting the pieces together and figuring out who was responsible for the shooting that killed his former outreach kid.  Julian has often been sidelined in the last several seasons, but as the show comes to a close I find myself appreciating his presence and his integrity amidst all the mud and garbage has been very reassuring.

***

So we’re almost at the end now.  Only two episodes left, and Alan Sepinwall, who has seen them, has written that he was shaken by the experience of watching them.  As much as I’ll miss this amazing series, I’m ready to see how it all finally wraps up.

That’s all I’ve got at the moment.  Now you.

And so another series of Doctor Who begins thanks to the magic of the Internet and bit torrent software! Spoilerphobes beware, because I consider information up to and including this premiere episode to be fair game!

How much you enjoy the fourth series premiere of Doctor Who will in large part, I suspect, depend upon your level of tolerance for the show being almost exclusively for laughs. I’m just schizophrenic enough to admit that my tolerance level is pretty high, even though my greatest joy comes from Who at its most emo. So far my fondest memories of the current series involve crying my eyes out over the separation of Rose Tyler and the Doctor at the end of Series 2. See, I actually enjoy crying, particularly if it’s motivated by something as safe as a television program.

Nonetheless, I recognize that a lot of hardcore old school Who fans (perhaps the saddest group people on the planet, and a group to which I was one of the proudest and most fanatical members when I was younger and dumber) will have a lot of axes to grind here.

For one thing, there’s Catherine Tate. I like Catherine Tate, and, following the initial shock over the announcement last Summer that she would be joining David Tennant full-time for the entire fourth series, I applauded loudly. It seemed like an audacious move, and one which would surely shake up the status quo, a development which might well be needed at this point in the show’s 21st century incarnation. Nonetheless, I had hopes that Donna would bring a level of vitality (if not outright aggression) to her performance which would markedly contrast with the swooning mooniness which tended to dominate both Billie Piper in Series 2 and Freema Agyeman in Series 3. Mind you, I liked both Piper and Agyeman, but Billie’s chemistry with Christopher Eccleston in Series 1 was simply not matched later, and Freema, whilst making the best of things, still got saddled with the burden of pining after the Doctor.

I know I said that I prefer emo Who, and that’s true, but I don’t mean that I want to watch the girls embarrassing themselves for 13 episodes at a stretch over why doesn’t the Doctor luuuv them? When Christopher Eccleston kissed Billie Piper in “The Parting of the Ways,” I cheered because they stopped swanning about and got to it. On the other hand, Martha’s neediness and clinginess simply got old quickly.

Which takes us back to “Partners In Crime.” I’m very happy to see that Russell T Davies has decided to face the dilemma more or less head on by having the Doctor make it fairly clear that he’d rather not have any more traveling companions falling in love with him. This led to the episode’s biggest laugh, also, with Donna misunderstanding the Doctor’s desire for a mate with a need to mate and responding with utter horror at the prospect of having sex with someone she still thinks is kind of a creepy alien, at least in a sexual context. I’m sure many Who fans breathed a sigh of relief over that. I’m not one of them, necessarily, mind you. I don’t have a problem conceptually with the Doctor having a sex life. I just don’t want him to have to be fending off his companion episode after episode all series long.

Unfortunately, for all of my hope that Catherine Tate would bring a unique vitality to the show, she seemed surprisingly to be playing catch up here, never quite popping out of the background to claim the show as her own. That probably shouldn’t be too surprising, as Doctor Who remains a bit removed from what I presume is her acting comfort zone, Doctor Who being a bit removed from the tonal landscape represented by The Catherine Tate Show. Still, it was a bit of a letdown, I’ll admit, even as I willingly cross my fingers and hope for the best next week.

I’ve always thought that Russell T Davies’s strength as a Who writer lay in his ability to create interesting characters and have them bounce off each other rather than in his skill at laying out a complex or at least well-engineered science fiction plot. Fortunately, much of the point of “Partners In Crime” was in bringing the Doctor and Donna back together and letting them make a go of it. Unfortunately, it still took far too much time to actually bring them together. Having them constantly missing each other was amusing, but, really, we’ve only got 13 episodes, LET’S GO! I’m that eager to see them working directly off each other.

Also, as I pretty much started to say a couple of paragraphs ago, once they finally reunited, I’m not sure that Donna made a very good case for herself as a new companion. I really think that if this is going to work, then the scripts are going to have to give Catherine Tate more opportunities to stretch her dramatic muscles a bit. Davies’s script relied primarily on comedy this time, and it all felt just a bit strained, surprisingly. Little bits like Donna lashing out at the Doctor for leaving them vulnerable to danger were more off-putting than endearing, and even the best bit, the extended mime during which the two time travelers reacquainted through several layers of glass on opposite sides of a room, completely oblivious to the fact that the episode’s villains were completely aware of them and had stopped what they were doing in order to watch incredulously, went on just a bit too long.

As for the villains, there’s not much to say. Sara Lancashire did a perfectly workmanlike job as Miss Foster, but the main interest in her comes primarily from the somewhat middling mystery of her sonic pen. On the other hand, the adipose babies were beyond adorable, and one can’t help but hope that we might see them again. I think there’s real potential for the lil’ fatties to become Who’s 21st century Tribbles. They also led to one of Donna’s finer bits, the moment when she appreciated the fact that the Doctor wasn’t going to destroy them the way that he destroyed all the spider babies the last time they’d gotten together. It was a cute callback.

Lastly, I want to just say a little bit about the “surprise” at the end of the episode. That was a stunner. I knew that it was coming, although I remain more or less unspoiled about the circumstances, yet I never thought we’d get a taste of it so early on. One area in which I’ve long hoped Who would pick up the slack is in establishing a series long arc. Before Series 1, it had been announced that Davies was going to emulate the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Big Bad model for his storytelling. That’s not really happened so far. For the most part, we got the repitition of “Bad Wolf” in Series 1, which really never went anywhere, the infrequent references to Torchwood in Series 2, which, again, didn’t really amount to anything before the finale anyway, and the admittedly more involving references to Mr. Saxon in Series 3. In all likelihood, Series 4 may well follow the same model, but I’d really like to see them Buffyize the storytelling a bit more, weaving the Big Bad in and about more consistently, perhaps, letting us know who they are and what they want early on.

One last thought on the surprise appearance of Rose. Watching it again after the surprise had worn off, it’s really quite chilling, particularly in the way that Billie looks right into the camera at us. The foreboding is palpable. Whoever would have thought that Rose Tyler’s return would turn out to be a Very Bad Thing? Kudos for Russell T Davies for managing to bring a whole new flavor to the Rose Tyler experience for this. That’s really well done!

Some final little bits:

• I love the new theme song and the somewhat less orchestral score this time. The increased use of organ was a nice touch and gave the whole thing a sort of 70s vibe that was welcome.
• It really is nice to note that David Tennant is now really, really ensconced in the role now. I like the idea of long-term Doctors, and until now there’s just been too much of a sense of transience around the new series, between Christopher Eccleston’s short tenure and the fact that BBC actors simply cannot be contracted for years at a time in the way that American actors routinely are, leading to the constant speculation on exactly when or if David Tennant will resign the role. That’s still happening, of course, and will undoubtedly continue, but there’s still no arguing with three full series and something like at least 7 specials (including all of the Christmas episodes and next year’s pseudoseason of occasional specials. He has established himself in a way that no actor has since the last incarnation of the program, and that’s nice to see now.
• I noticed that the timing of the credits was a little off, with Tennant’s name appearing earlier than usual; I wonder if this is to account for an increase in the number of pre-title names later in the series when Freema Agyeman comes back.
• A hat box! She’s bringing a hat box onto the TARDIS, in case she needs a hat! Comedy gold!
• Weird little bit of framing during the shot of Donna heading off to drop her mum’s keys in the bin. The extra playing the police man in the red vest is so close to her and so prominent in the shot that I thought for sure he was heading toward her. I wonder if the production team was really happy with that shot.
• One more thought on the music; wasn’t that amazing when the Doomsday theme popped up toward the end of the episode, accompanying the enigmatic appearance by you-know-who?

So that’s it for me. Now tell me all about how wrong I am!

Resuming the story quite literally right where we last left off, the “best show on television” comes roaring back onto our screens with an intensity that…doesn’t quite sustain the dramatic and emotional heft of the outlandish and outrageous third season finale, which saw both the delirious return of Katee Sackhoff’s Starbuck and the revelation that four long-running characters, including at least two fan favorites, are Cylons.

It was nice to see Katee Sackhoff’s name returned to its rightful place in the credits following Edward James Olmos and Mary McGovern. This was no surprise, but seeing it was so had the effect of restoring some of the equilibrium that had been thrown out of whack after Starbuck’s “death” late last season.

Speaking of which, does anyone else think that her return, as welcome as it is, constitutes a bit of a cheat? We saw her raptor blow up, right? I tried finding the scene in question on Youtube, but all I could find are fan-made emo videos, the type I’d be creating myself if I were a fifteen-year-old girl (or could successfully pretend I was a fifteen-year-old girl). They show the moment but still manage to somehow obscure the point just a bit. Nonetheless, they’re out there. It’s unmistakeable: her raptor blows up, and people can’t survive that. On top of that, didn’t the producers come right out last Spring and declare that she really did die?

On the other hand, even though it initially smacks of one of those 1930s serials where an extra scene is added the following week after the cliff-hanger recap showing the hero jumping out of the wagon before it careens over the cliff, I’m willing to trust that the Galactica writers have got a clever explanation for us somewhere down the line. Hell, we’ve already got them acknowledging that Starbuck’s raptor is brand new and can’t possibly be the same one she flew off in. That’s some red meat for us to chew on, isn’t it?

On a relevant side note, I should admit that I’m not much of a re-run watcher, at least not when it comes to dramas. Sitcoms, sure. I never tire of a good Friends, Seinfeld, Raymond, King of Queens, etc., but when it comes to dramas, especially serialized ones like Battlestar Galactica, I’m a one-time viewer kind of guy generally.

Now, Galactica’s been gone a long time. Razor notwithstanding, it’s been over a year since the story has been moving forward, and in that time, I kind of forgot how emotional I could get watching it. So tonight I programmed my DVR to start recording ten minutes early so I could get the end of the season three finale, and as soon as it started playing, I had an unexpectedly emotional reaction. The visceral punch of Tigh, Anders, Tyrol and Tory discovering their true nature and choosing to maintain their artificial identities and loyalties, combined with the last moment return of Starbuck, caused me to stifle back tears lest my roommate require some kind of explanation for why I was turning into a little girl on the sofa. I’d truly forgotten what an emotional investment I’d made in this story and these characters.

I remembered then how amazing that finale was, and as the camera pulled back with a God’s eye perspective on all of our players and their relatively tiny place in the universe as All Along The Watchtower played on the soundtrack, I was filled with all kinds of unreasonable hope that the new season would manage to sustain that level of intensity right off the bat. As far as that goes, I have to say that I don’t think it quite succeeded, even though I enjoyed the episode.

The thing is, after all that intensity and paradigm breaking calamity, it’s a bit of a letdown to find the story sort of step back a little bit, at least in its treatment of Starbuck. Yes, yes, yes, I understand: they have to be somewhat suspicious and question whether she’s a cylon. That makes sense, but it’s kind of boring. We’ve been there before, albeit with Boomer. What I was sort of hoping for was a real leap forward in audacity, the way that they managed with the One Year Later fast forward that ended season two. That was bold!

Now, granted that the New Caprica occupation storyline was a bit of a letdown, too, with its clumsy and not particularly apt Iraq allegory, but I’ll still always love them for taking that chance. We’re at the end of the story now, and I really want them to take more chances again. I don’t want to watch Laura “the Airlock” Roslyn show us how badass and obstinate she can be, again. I already know that about her.

However, please don’t misunderstand: I’m here for the duration, committed til the end, I promise, and loving so very much of it. There was much to admire and appreciate here, from Gaius’s new colony of hot women all eager to have sex with him (has anyone else in history ever gotten so much booty off the systematic annihilation of his people?), to the revelation that our newly revealed cylons might have a harder time resisting their natures than they might initially have hoped.

And then, of course, there’s Tory. Has there ever been a more ridiculous beautiful woman on television than the lovely Rekha Sharma? Well, of course there has, I’m sure, but every now and then someone pops on the screen who just resonates for me, and for today at least, it’s Rekha:

What can I say? I like who I like. Just wait. Soon I’ll be blogging about Bones just so I can coo over the beautiful Michaela Conlin.

But back to Battlestar Galactica, and a few final thoughts:

• I really hope they stop playing around with the back and forth hostility between Bill and Lee Adama. How many more times can we watch one of them dicker around with whether or not Apollo remains a colonial officer? This is another instance of something being revisited too often. Get these two into couples counseling stat, and let’s move on!
• I wonder whether Tyrol is just going to flat out tell Cally that he’s a Cylon. There was something about that moment when she asked him where the Hell he’s been, and he replies that he’ll tell her later. I really think this could be a believable part of his character, and I’m fascinated to see how she’d take it. I imagine she’d agree to keep it a secret.
• As a counterpoint, consider the touching scene where Anders tries to comfort Starbuck by reassuring her that it would be okay even if she were a Cylon. That she doesn’t share his tolerance and shortly thereafter cold-cocked him simply doesn’t speak well for the future of their relationship, does it?

So that’s it. I’m reminded, of course, that one can’t be too critical too early, especially when it comes to long-form dramas at the start of their seasons, given that we inherently lack the perspective of being able to see where it’s all going or how cleverly it’s going to take us there.

Also, for the record, I want to acknowledge the debt this blog owes to Alan Seppinwall, particularly for his handy and workmanlike method of wrapping up with bullet points. Always steal from the best, I say, so make sure you go and give Alan a read, too. His thoughts, I’m sure, far surpass mine anyway. Hell, it takes all the discipline I’ve got to resist reading his take on the episode before composing my own.

Now if only I could get access to the same database of pictures he has. In the meantime, I have to make do with Google’s finest pickings.

So that’s my take on things. Now you!

Last night’s episode of How I Met Your Mother was so good that I think maybe I’ve been too easy on other recent episodes.

Numerous first rate gags on hand this time, from Robin’s sixteen “no’s” in reaction to Blah Blah’s insinuation that she and Barney were a couple (protesting so much, in fact, that I think an eventual Robin/Barney pairing is now inevitable), to the running jokes involving Ted’s bad kissing habits and the technique of saying “come on” in a low key but condescending tone to get people to admit sexual secrets.

But it’s not just the verbal silliness that makes a good How I Met Your Mother work.  It’s the visual gags, too, that keep the show firing on all cylinders.  Here we had the amusement of Ted’s ever-shifting hairstyles, the use of sandwiches to represent joints, and, of course, Barney’s crazy/hot scale and its onscreen visualization, as well as the multiple demonstrations of how it works and how Blah Blah’s placement on the scale kept moving.

Finally, we also had multiple flashbacks, including a good look at dippy Ted the liberal college fool eager to show off his feminist cred in order to get in Lily’s pants and looking entirely like a dope.  Others have pointed out that  this episode had significantly less Robin for a change.  I don’t share the disregard that some have for Cobie Smulders, but it’s plainly obvious that the show works best when it’s acting as a true ensemble.  Consequently, it’s nice to see the focus shifting away from the adventures and/or heartbreak of Ted and Robin.  I hope that this is the beginning of a trend that will carry throughout as the season continues.

Lastly, top marks to Abigail Spencer for her fun job as the crazy but hot Blah Blah.  One of the other continuing pleasures of How I Met Your Mother is its ever changing progression of hot female guest stars, and Abigail Spencer may well be the sexiest one yet.

About halfway through “Dummy”, I fell in love with Kristin Chenoweth. And Digby the dog.

I’m starting to get a good feeling about this show, and that became clear the moment that Chenoweth’s Olive Snook brook into song, spontaneously singing “Hopelessly Devoted to You” to express heartache over her inability to snag the attentions of Lee Pace’s Ned. But it wasn’t just the fact that Pushing Daisies gave us a musical number in the middle of its second episode, it’s the fact that it did so in such an idiosyncratic fashion, with Olive being interrupted several times and freezing up in embarrassment for her excessive keening, only to resume at the earliest opportunity. Kristin captured perfectly that sense of humiliation so many of us have felt at one time or another over being caught exposed and vulnerable in front of the wrong people. In a series so quirky and twee (I love that word!), it was a remarkably down to earth moment, and its insight into basic human nature was an unexpected answer to earlier criticisms that Pushing Daisies might be a bit too bubbly for a show so rooted in painful, complicated and seemingly insurmountable problems, like not being able to touch someone without killing them.

And then, of course, there’s Digby the dog who both provided a hilarious foil to Olive during her musical lament and a steady reminder that this is far, far too weird a program to be on the air during family hour, not only for its intimation of bestiality but also for its continuing habit of showing dead bodies in disturbing and creepy arrangements, like being suspended on wires like marionettes. As long as Pushing Daisies is going to keep presenting moments that suggest bestiality, I’m going to have to persist in my prediction that it will be off the air, probably for good, by December.

Still, as goofily uncomfortable as it is watching a beautiful woman first caressing a dog whilst singing a love song, then letting said dog lick her entire face for an extended amount of time before finally sharing a bed with that very same dog, the Olive and Digby sequences were also the moments that captivated my attention. I especially enjoyed the fact that Jim Dale’s delightful narration captured the disparity between Olive and Digby’s focus: whilst Olive believes that Digby is a good listener, Digby is merely following his canine instincts and enjoying the taste of salt off Olive’s face. In that moment, it’s hard to determine which is smarter or more pure in their truthfulness, and believe me I never thought I’d be spending a lot of time writing about Digby the dog in a Pushing Daisies review. Also, am I out of my mind, but was there a moment when Olive actually licked Digby in response?

As for the rest of the episode, programs like Reaper should take note that Pushing Daisies could provide some guidance about how you carry forward a seemingly repetitive procedural program whilst still finding ways to be fresh. In this case, Pushing Daisies does it by opening up the characters more and letting us see aspects to them that weren’t immediately obvious. It doesn’t even have to be monumental. Little details like learning that Emerson Cod has a habit of knitting clothing to deal with tension and stress, or that Chuck is a lot more eager to branch out and try new things than was immediately apparent in the pilot (and not at all intimidated by Emerson’s gruff discomfort with her presence), or that Olivia has an adult bond with Digby the dog.

Think about Reaper for a moment. Three episodes in, do we know anything more about the main characters now than we did at the beginning? No, mainly because Reaper’s principal cast remain essentially cyphers, too one-dimensional to bond with. On the other hand, after only two episodes, I’m already developing attachments to most of Daisies’s principal cast.

Curiously enough, the character which remains the most enigmatic so far is the seemingly central protagonist, Ned, but given how the rest of the characters are being given opportunities to grow, I’m confident that Ned, too, will have his time. In fact, thematically, Ned’s inscrutability fits, and it would be a mistake, I think, to make him too accessible too quickly.

I also want to commend the show in finding more opportunities for Ned and Chuck to experience some kind of physicality with each other. Zipping them both into transparent body bags and then letting them make out through them was inspired, as was the rubber hand attachment to the car divider. Both of these conceits are oddball, but Pushing Daisies was clever enough to make them work, and I’m curious to see how many more variations on this they can conceive without seeming repetitive or too goofy.

I haven’t said much about the procedural part of tonight’s episode, and that’s because it wasn’t all that remarkable, though still light years ahead of its counterparts on Reaper. Presenting Janine as a bulimic, and then sort of going for laughs with it, was kind of interesting, though, and Riki Lindhome did a nice job of making her intriguing and funny. The reveal of the killer was pretty obvious, but I don’t really think that Pushing Daisies is setting out to be a significant whodunnit. It seems to have something more unique in mind, and so far, I’m going to stick with it as long as I can.

Finally, a short bit on the visual look of the episode. I was initially concerned when I read that the network was ordering the produers to rein in the purse strings, thinking that in order for a show like this work it would need the highly stylized meadows and backgrounds. We still had a little bit of that during Ned’s flashback, but for the most part, the look of the episode was pretty straightforward and modern, with the exception of the Dandy Lion car, and, actually, I wouldn’t have minded a bit if they’d had to lose the eccentric automobile look. I’m starting to think that Pushing Daisies might well be able to work with a less eccentric palette, and that’s a good sign.

So that’s my take on the latest episode; now you!

Carpoolers is the best surprise of Tuesday nights so far.  I only hope it doesn’t get sucked down the drain by Cavemen.

In fact, Cavemen is such an off-putting concept (hated the Geico commercials, completely uninterested in a sitcom expansion) that I almost didn’t even bother giving Carpoolers a look.  On paper it sounds unremarkable:  the adventures of 4 guys who share a carpool lane, but it’s filled with funny, interesting characters and a plethora of winning actors.

 There’s so much about Carpoolers that inherently makes me smile, from the goofy performance of T.J. Miller as the Napoleon Dynamite-channeling Marmaduke to the calamity of Aubrey’s household (and the fact that we only ever see the reclining feet of his apparently immovable wife) to the sweet naivete of Dougie’s newlywed co-dependency, to the occasional forays into surreal slapstick, such as the scene when Dougie is literally banged about on both sides in his pursuit of Aubrey.  Carpoolers is no Arrested Development of ground breaking genius, but what it is is a sweetly produced bit of good natured comedy with just a tiny bit of edge under the surface without ever losing its big family-friendly heart.

I want to say a little more about Jerry Minor, Fred Goss and Jerry O’Connel.  Jerry Minor is an absolute delight, dithering about like a man who’s only a few moments away from being pushed too far and maybe pulling out a gun, but he plays it with such tender vulnerability that he steals the show everytime he’s onscreen.  I didn’t realize until just now that he played the neighbor on Lucky Louie last year, and contrasting the two performances, he really is a revelation.  As much as I enjoyed Lucky Louie, and I enjoyed it a great deal, I had no idea that this actor was so capable of holding forth just by virtue of playing under the other characters.  He may be the single deciding factor that keeps me coming back.

As for Jerry O’Connell, an actor I haven’t always been fond of, here he shows terrific comic chops and scores a lot of points by his willingness to play Laird as kind of an unnattractive, insensitive, even bullying figure (although his more hostile tones were considerably muted here from the level they were at in the pilot — and I think that’s a good thing) who wins us over by playing the truth of a guy who’s been completely obliterated and demoralized by a divorce.  A lesser actor might not be as willing to dwell in the mud, and it’s a credit to O’Connell that he goes there.

 Fred Goss’s also does an excellent job as a slightly less harried professional man who nonetheless struggles with a looming sense of inadequacy that leaves him vulnerable to being browbeaten and taken advantage of, all at the service of comedy gold, and it’s a pleasure to watch the chemistry between him and Faith Ford as his uberwife and the aforementioned T.J. Miller as perhaps the oddest new character on sitcoms this season.  Between his goofy hair and manchild innocence, it’s almost impossible not to crack a smile when Miller’s Marmaduke is onscreen.

In tonight’s episode, we got to see how the various families can be mixed together, and the results are encouraging, suggesting that this show might have the flexibility to sustain a large variety of plot permutations.  Given Bruce McCullough’s Kids in the Hall pedigree, and last week’s delightful cameos by Scott Thompson, one can’t help but wonder how far out there Bruce is planning to take things (are we likely to see things as bizarre as guys with cabbage growing out of their head, for example?) and I for one feel somewhat excited to find out.  If you haven’t yet given this one a shot, I highly encourage it.  Fortunately, ABC is offering Internet streams of Carpoolers, as well as many other programs, here.

So that’s my take on Carpoolers, so far.  Now you!

Please please please put a sock in it, already!

Seriously, “All Mine” is an improvement on several levels, and creators Tara Butters and Michelle Fazekas deserve praise and support for that.

So why am I including a large picture of the lovely, lovely Valarie Rae Smith at the top of this post? For two reasons. No! Make that three reasons:

1. *sigh*;
2. since the show continues to waste her in a thankless role so superfluous that only her computer was actually needed, it seems the least I can do is give her a little extra love here; and
3. it’s very difficult to come by timely and relevant pictures from the current episodes. I don’t yet have the connections that some of the bigger kids have. That will change, though; yes, it will change. AND THEN THEY’LL ALL PAY! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*ahem*

Also, did I mention *sigh*?

But I digress, probably because digression remains more interesting to me than discussing tonight’s episode. Nonetheless, let’s get back to it, okay?

The notable stuff:

• I actually got a genuine laugh, the first of the entire series, when Sam referred to the Devil under his breath as an “ass”. There’s just something perfect about not only using such an inadequate description for the most powerful evil force in existence, but also doing it under your breath, as though (a) he might hear, and (b) you could hide it from him. I’m sorry, but that’s funny stuff. It was the only laugh in the episode, but, again, that was one laugh more than were to be found in the previous two episodes combined.

• The villain’s story, whilst still relatively mundane and ho-hum, had slightly more appeal than the last two, and even included a tiny bit of misdirection, which made for a surprise revelation. Again, a small improvement, but worth noting.

• With the title, “All Mine,” and the fugitive’s backstory of obsessively containing her lover, I get that the writer might have been trying to thematically tie that into Sam’s jealousy over Andi and his ambivalence toward bother her plans to go back to school and her apparent flirtation with another guy, but it really didn’t quite gel, mainly because there just isn’t enough meat to this show or the character relationships yet. Still, if Reaper is going to last, it’s going to have to branch out more often into even slightly more sophisticated storytelling like this. It’s the only way to keep it from getting stuck in the sitcom rut that dominated the first two episodes. More, please.

• No sign of Sam’s family this week; I can’t help but wonder whether that trend is going to continue. It probably should, as there’s not a lot of mileage to be gotten out of Sam’s brother acting jealous and Mom maybe fretting over what he’s got to do for the Devil. It worked when Buffy the Vampire Slayer first had to hide her secret life from her mother then later had to deal with her mother’s fears, but, as I’ve been pointing out for a couple of weeks now, Reaper is no Buffy.

• The conceit of dressing the boys up in vessel-specific clothing does seem to be shaping up into a standard gag now. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but nor is it a laff riot. The main thing I come away with from the team activities is that it’s really touching that Sam’s friends have consistently decided to back him up, even though he’s doing very dangerous work, and Rick Gonzalez as Ben continues to grow on me, which is a good thing because it allows for some relief from the obnoxious and annoying Sock.

• As for Sock, it was nice to see that he was toned down a bit this week, a little more approachable, a little less too cool for the room, but great God almighty WILL THEY PLEASE STOP WITH THE HORRIFIC SCENES WHERE HE TRASH TALKS OR MANIPULATES JOSIE. Those scenes are beyond offensive, beyond obnoxious, in no way enjoyable or amusing, and stretch believability well beyond the breaking point. I have a good feeling toward Josie, and such scenes disgust me on her behalf. Worse, they destroy any of the goodwill that each episode struggles to produce with regard to Sock.

• I still think this show needs a shift in tone. If it’s going to be a comedy, they should shorten it to 30 minutes and include more scenes with Ray Wise. But I don’t think it should strive for comedy; instead, it should try to develop more in the hipster dramedy mode of something like, again, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One thing Reaper continues to lack is a sense of danger or importance in what Sam’s doing or the risks he’s taking. I think this show is going to need a major death, and I’d like to nominate Sock (though I actually think that Ben might end up being the sacrificial goat if it comes to that). Get rid of Sock and either bring in a less obnoxious character or increase Ben’s role (and range). Whatever, we need some danger.

So that’s my take on things. Reaper is improving, but it still has miles to go before it becomes a first rate entertainment.

Now you!