#with a subplot about the doctors conducting the experiment

[lasshoe]

last night i saw the effect which is succession writer lucy prebble’s play starring taylor russell and paapa essidu and not only is it the greatest theater experience of my life i cannot stop thinking about it i am buzzing from it wow good art is so good for the soul huh

[latenightcinephile]

#746: ‘High Sierra’, dir. Raoul Walsh, 1941.

The more I watch of Humphrey Bogart’s films, the more I realise my initial preconceptions of his work were wildly inaccurate. I had always characterised him as a stand-up kind of guy from his roles in The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, although it was admittedly a very small sample size to draw from. It’s somewhat surprising to learn that High Sierra was Bogart’s breakout role, the one that proved he could carry the lead of a film, especially as it came out less than a year before the other films that, arguably, most of his reputation today relies on.

And yet, in films like The African Queen and High Sierra, Bogart is tough and jaded. These qualities are so secondary to an understanding of a character like Rick that it came as almost a shock to see them front and centre in this film. Bogart plays Roy Earle, recently released from prison and drawn almost immediately into another jewel heist, leading a group of young bandits and their moll, Marie (Ida Lupino). In a lot of ways, Walsh is conducting traditional gangster fare here. What makes the film different is how heavily it draws on a particular subplot and its related themes: at several points early in the film, Roy encounters a Californian family - two grandparents and their granddaughter Velma (Joan Leslie). Velma has a club foot, and Roy moves from concern to unsuccessful romance with Velma, going as far as paying for surgery to heal Velma’s condition. On a surface level, this is a standard romance subplot: it makes Roy sympathetic and parallels his slow rejection of the world around him, typical for the gangster genre. From the conversations throughout the film, it’s also clear that Velma’s grandfather and Roy share some understanding of how America in the 1940s ought to work; both a presaging and an explanation of how Roy becomes out-of-step with the society he is in. “Me and Roy’s old-timers,” Pa says (Henry Travers, most famous for playing Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life), and while it’s never confirmed just how old Roy actually is, Bogart was in his early forties at the time. And in addition, this subplot brings the minor doctor character in again, cementing some of his personality quirks and making it less unusual to see the character later in the film.

Just with this example alone, it’s clear Raoul Walsh is working to make each element of the screenplay work double- or even-triple duty. Mount Whitney is not just a location in the film, it’s a thematic underscoring (the highest peak in the continental United States, as we’re told), and the act of getting there sets the stage for some serious car chases as well. It doesn’t seem like anything is included in this film without its reuse and reapplication being considered.

Isolationism and nostalgia, normally major parts of the gangster myth, are central here, and crystallised into motifs such as Mount Whitney, or the frequent discussion of stars and constellations. Towards the end of the film, the collapse of the ideal life the gangster aspires to - which normally is presented as a steady string of things-going-wrong - here becomes a dizzying wreck of competing events. I think part of the reason this is the case is because everything retains that crystalline feeling even as it’s becoming a disaster.

For a long time, I suffered an odd kind of nightmare, which I recognise now as being similar to the experience of the eldritch. I would be confronted with a finicky task while my hands were oversized, or would witness a massive and cataclysmic event where I could still see every minute detail. Discussions of the sublime in cinema usually focus on the pleasurable elements of the experience, but in these dreams I was horrified by the immensity and impossibility of the events, and my inadequacy in the face of them.

And so it is with High Sierra, which is perhaps one of the reasons why I am so fascinated by what is, generally speaking, a standard gangster film. So much effort seems to be dedicated to precision - the characters are almost always shot from the front or in profile, but information is revealed through high-contrast shadows, or a light being switched on to reveal previously hidden details - that when the pace picks up, the text of the film becomes packed with omnipresent detail. The last few scenes of this film could be used as a masterclass in blocking, or lighting, or performance, or any number of film disciplines. It’s almost surprising it took me this long to find it.

---

One more random observation, and this one’s about Jean-Luc Godard, of all things. The first Godard film I ever watched, and therefore one of my least-liked of his films, was Breathless, which was Godard’s rather meta deconstruction of the gangster film. In it, the protagonist sees a cinema’s posterboard display dedicated to Bogart, and he consciously mimics Bogart’s mannerisms throughout the rest of the film. After his death at the end, his girlfriend asks a police officer, “What’s a scumbag?”

I never got that part of the movie - it seemed like a clunky bit of repetition that I didn’t care for. Fifteen years later, I see High Sierra, and I get it. I get it! Because this is a Bogart film where the characters repeatedly talk about ‘crashing out’, as a term for leaving the crime lifestyle, dying, killing themselves, et cetera. At the end, Marie (and I cannot say enough good things about Ida Lupino throughout this film) asks a police officer, ‘What does it mean when a man ‘crashes out’?’

It was a reference, a very subtle reference, this entire time. The more films you watch, I guess, the more you see.

[valkyrieelysia18]

RWBY Rewrite: WTCH

Hello again! Welcome once again to the RWBY Rewrite series of posts I’ve been working on if under the unlikely chance I was asked to consult on a reboot. Unfortunately for my opening line, this is not the Pyrrha Nikos post (believe me, I’ve got a bunch to talk about on that one), but instead this one will focus on the villains, specifically the main four of Salem’s underlings: Cinder Fall, Arthur Watts, Tyrian Callows, and Hazel Rainart.

Now, villains are always fun to work with; often times they are the most memorable part of a story. A hero is only as good as their villains, as showcased by certain heroes’ rogues galleries. Unfortunately, RWBY’s treatment of its villains has been.....not the best. With the way the heroes have been prevailing lately, it’s been kind of downgrading their threat factor. Not to mention the current writers’ inability to deal with morally gray conflicts and characters. As such, I feel the need to break up the villains into more manageable sections, starting with the villains that will serve as the immediate antagonists to Team RWBY.

Now it’s not going to come up too much here, but it should be made clear that these four are merely this generation’s evil team. There have been many members of Salem’s council, but all that have served previously are dead, mostly due to battle against Ozpin’s forces or by Salem for a number of reasons (betrayal, insubordination, became too much of a liability, etc.). In each of their cases, Salem would reach out to them, whether through a seer or one of her other subordinates, and they would join her cause of their own free will. She’d save her main manipulations and threats for those she’s going to use as scapegoats and those she’s planning on killing. But when it comes to her long term lieutenants, it’s generally best to try and set as positive of a relationship as she can.

So, why would each of them join her? Well, the thing about the great worlds of fiction is not just their positive traits, but also their dark sides. Take the world of My Hero Academia. You’d think a world where almost everyone has super powers would be amazing, but the more you look into the society, the more cracks you find and it becomes very understandable of why some people would want to tear it down. Each of these characters are going to be associated with a problem found in the world they live in, that directly played a part in why they are villains. It’s all going to contribute to the question “Is Remnant and it’s people truly worth saving?” I’ll deal more into this question when I get to Salem.

For this, I’m also going to run with the head canon that each of them comes from a different kingdom and that problem they’re associated with relates to that kingdom: Hazel Vale, Cinder Mistral, Watts Atlas, and Tyrian Vacuo.

Hazel: Apathy

No, this is not about that Grimm. Apathy is generally defined as the complete lack of emotion about a human being, a thing or an activity. And in this head canon, this would describe Vale’s biggest problem. Vale (or at least most of those in charge) doesn’t care about what happens outside of the kingdom’s borders. So long as the life that they’ve become so accustomed to is safe, the rest of the world could be on fire and they wouldn’t lift a finger. And that especially relates to how they, and other kingdoms, view huntsmen and huntresses.

Now, we don’t really know much about Gretchen Rainart’s death, only that Ozpin said that it was due to a training accident, but that’s not what this is focusing on. I imagine that after Gretchen died, Hazel might have tried to raise concern about the Academies’ practices and get answers....only to find that no one really cared.

So what if some no name huntress in training got killed in some sort of accident? Huntsmen and huntresses die all the time. Surely she knew what she was signing up for. And there will be many more just like her.

You know that lyric “Or are we weapons pointed at the enemy, so someone else can claim a victory?” That’s how many people would view huntsmen and huntresses in this Rewrite: weapons to be used and replaced when necessary. This also gives Hazel more of an understandable reason as to why he sided with Salem. Revenge against Ozpin is still his primary motivation, but he also wants to destroy the system that would label his sister and others like her as expendable pawns just so people who know nothing about fighting and sacrifice could live peacefully.

Cinder: Prejudice

Now I know the word prejudice usually comes in when people talk about racism (we’ll get to Adam and the White Fang another day), but as a sociology major I also know that prejudice applies not just to race but also gender, social class, sexuality, family unit, where you grew up, religious beliefs, and more. In the show, Mistral is said to have the most diverse environments and lifestyles. That I think would lead to some serious divisions in the country, particularly after the Great War. 

I always thought it was a missed opportunity that after that conflict, the King of Vale (Oz) essentially dismantled and restructured the governments of four different kingdoms to streamline world peace. Even if it may have had a greater long term benefit, there should have been lasting consequences to drastically changing established governments that had been probably been around for centuries. Entire ways of life may have been altered or destroyed and the power structure must have been completely scrambled. Like, what if most of Mistral’s population is in Central Anima and is more Asian themed, but after the Great War the southern trading ports that are more Greco-Roman (where Pyrrha is from) gained more influence due to being more cooperative with foreign powers? This would make Mistral much more complex compared to Vale and showcase that when you get a bunch of people with differing statuses and beliefs together you’re going to have problems.

Then there’s the royal family and that is where Cinder comes in. In my head canon, Cinder is in fact a direct descendant of the Mistralian royal family which fell into ruin with the deposal of the monarchy. That would perfectly tie into her fairy tale inspiration of Cinderella, a young woman of great status brought to the lowest of circumstances. Only instead of taking it all with grace and kindness, Cinder would grow resentful and bitter. Constantly having to deal with people mocking her for her status and her blood, hearing what family she had left reminisce about what was once theirs, and hearing everyone look down upon the last emperor and all that came before him who styled themselves like gods but turned out to be nothing more then men.

This would give Cinder a much more personal reason to join Salem’s cause, considering that Ozpin, more specifically his last life as the King of Vale, was the reason she and her family would have been in that state in the first place. Her desire for power, strength, and to be feared would be tied up in her desire to reclaim her family’s honor and status, to strive to the image of the old Mistralian emperors. The things she should have had by right and so she’s going to do whatever it takes to take those things back.

Watts: Corruption

While many might cite Atlas’ obvious racist issues and the elitism of its upper class as problematic, Atlas’ upper class and those in power have also exploited those beneath them in order to stay on top. A missed opportunity when it came to the racism subplot is the lack of human allies because when if you really think about it, there must have been human miners in the Schnee Dust mines alongside the Faunus. Mantle is still very much there and the Atlesian hierarchy have most likely exploited those from it who where just trying to live their lives, Jacques Schnee most certainly has. And some of Ironwood’s power plays are definitely overstepping his bounds. As such, I’m using Atlas to highlight corruption. Unlike Vale, the Atlesians do care about how the world sees them and they will do anything to come out on top.

So, how would the good doctor fit into all this? The show has stated that Watts is a disgraced Atlesian scientist, but we don’t know why that is. Well, what if it wasn’t because he went behind his superiors’ backs in making deadly unethical weapons (because that seems like something Atlas would be completely on board for), but because they needed a scapegoat?

In this rewrite, Watts would be Professor Polendina’s protégé and they and others were performing certain experiments for the Atlesian government. The exact type of experiments I’m a little fuzzy on (I’m a writer, not a scientist), but I think it would interesting if these experiments were what laid the groundwork on Penny’s creation. Given Pyrrha’s reaction back in Volume 3, you get the impression that messing around with Aura and souls wouldn’t be the most....moral inquiries. And naturally someone would find out and the government would need someone to put the blame on. Professor Polendina would have been at the head of things and thus would be too important to lose, his protégé on the other hand would be much more expendable. Heck, the professor might be talked into going along with it in exchange for support to build Penny.

Now in this rewrite, Watts is by no means a good person, he’s just not a hypocrite. He knows full well what he’s done is pretty terrible, but he doesn’t deny it or sugar coat it. However, he is extremely pissed how he alone was blamed while others got away scot free. Salem would promise him both freedom to conduct his experiments as well as promising the opportunity for revenge against his former superiors. This could lead to an angry confrontation with Professor Polendina down the line, tearing into his old teacher. Ultimately culminating in Watts telling him that for all his attempts to convince himself he was doing things for Atlas or the greater good, Polendina is no better if not worse than the ones who ordered the experiments.

I also a couple ideas for Watts involving Ironwood, Jacques, and Willow, but those didn’t tie into his motivations so I’ll save that for a backstory post.

Tyrian: Anarchy 

Of the four kingdoms, Vacuo is definitely the worst off. Shade Academy is literally the only form of order in the kingdom, with the rest as a harsh merciless desert. While it may be welcoming to those who can survive, who are the kind of people who would survive in such an environment? I get the feeling that we’d be seeing Raven’s philosophy ‘The weak die, the strong survive’ be taken to quite the extreme. While we certainly complain about our governments (when Donald Trump was elected, I felt the immense desire to beg the UK to take us back), they do provide certain things that keep our lives relatively stable.

And that’s where Tyrian comes on. Unlike the other three, I don’t think Tyrian needs an intricate backstory or compelling motivations. He’s just someone who wants destruction and death. Rather, it’s because of the lack of order that someone like Tyrian was able to live and grow so strong. Perhaps Salem reached out to him with the potential of stronger and more difficult opponents than he was used to. Over time, he would begin to view Salem with an amount of reverence given that she leads the Grimm and the Grimm are essentially made to kill and destroy.

Well, that’s it for this post. Now I’ve got a bunch of ideas, but no idea what I want to do next. If anyone has a request, I’d be willing to hear it. Hope to see you all again relatively soon.

[phantom-le6]

Episode Reviews - Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 2 (1 of 5)

With the first season of Star Trek TNG firmly and thankfully behind us, it’s now time to warp into the show’s second season, which although better overall still has a few horrid episodes.  Anyway, let’s warp to the first round of second season episodes without any further ado…

Episode 1: The Child

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The new Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Katherine Pulaski, is brought aboard the Enterprise as it prepares to travel to Aucdet IX in order to take on dangerous virus samples, which will be carried to a Starfleet Medical station hoping they will be able to devise a cure for a plague epidemic in the Rachelis System. After taking aboard the new doctor, the ship is traveling at sub light speed when a ball of energy passes in through the hull, eventually settling in the womb of Counsellor Deanna Troi. Captain Jean-Luc Picard wonders why the new doctor hadn't checked in with him, and locates her in the Ten Forward lounge, where the bartender, Guinan, works. Picard finds Doctor Pulaski talking with Troi about her unexpected pregnancy. The senior officers meet to discuss the pregnancy. The foetus is developing at an accelerated rate and would be fully developed in 36 hours. Troi does not know who the father is, but was aware of a "presence" entering her body the night before. Though the senior staff debate terminating the pregnancy, Troi decides she will carry the child to term.

 The Enterprise arrives at Aucdet IX to pick up the plague samples, which are stored in a highly secure storage vessel. Troi gives birth to an apparently normal boy, whom she names Ian Andrew after her father. Ian continues to develop rapidly; within a day, he appears as a four-year-old child with corresponding mental faculties, and later develops to the physical and mental equivalent of eight years old. When asked if he is ready to explain who or what he is, Ian responds "not yet." Having completed the transfer of the virus samples, the Enterprise heads for the Starfleet Medical station. En route, the crew finds one of the plague strains is growing inexplicably; should it continue growing, it will rupture the storage vessel and result in the catastrophic exposure of all on board.

 They discover that an unknown source of Eichner radiation is causing the growth. Ian confides to Troi that he is the source of the crew's problems and will have to leave. Troi realizes Ian is dying and calls for medical assistance. Ian dies in Troi's arms, and returns to his energy form. The energy being contacts Troi's mind, and explains that he impregnated her in order to discover what it was like to be human. With Ian gone, the plague sample returns to normal and the crew continues on their mission.

 As a subplot through the episode, Wesley Crusher is trying to cope with leaving the Enterprise to join his mother on Earth after her promotion to director of Starfleet Medical. After receiving guidance from Guinan, he decides he wants to remain on the Enterprise.

Review:

Within this episode, there are a number of noticeable shifts among the Enterprise crew.  First off, Worf, Geordi and Wesley have all undergone wardrobe changes, with Wesley’s top now a more serious plain grey in place of the one featuring a few colours in stripes across his chest from season 1, while Worf and Geordi are sporting yellow uniforms, and Worf’s sash is now a heavier silver metal rather than the gold we saw him wearing in season 1.  All of this appears to be symbolic of these characters maturing a bit, with Worf now full chief of security and tactical officer, Geordi now the ship’s chief engineer (which makes way more sense than the rotating chief engineers of season 1), and Wesley is now not tied to his mother’s apron strings.

 Speaking of Wesley’s mother, this season also has Gates McFadden dropped from the main cast, and according to behind-the-scenes features on the TNG boxed set, it seems this is mainly attributed to a writer insisting the actress be let go because she complained about sexism in his writing.  This is apparently supported by the fact that in season 3, the same writer left and McFadden came back, which just goes to show how bad TNG was at embodying the values of Roddenberry’s creation in their real-life conduct at the time.  Though Beverly Crusher is basically replaced for the duration of this second season by Dr Kate Pulaski, played by Diane Muldaur, the actress declined a main cast credit in favour of a special guest star one, and apparently, she was meant to be a kind of female analogue of Dr Leonard McCoy from the original series of Star Trek.  Another recurring guest star making their first appearance in the show is Whoopi Goldberg as Guinnan, a bartender who runs the Enterprise’s bar space known as Ten-Forward.  The final change of note is that Riker is now sporting a beard, something he does for most of the rest of the Next Generation franchise.

 Sadly, all these changes, as good and interesting as most of them are, land in an episode that is very much as abysmal as the worst of season 1.  Here we get an episode where Troi is effectively ‘raped’ by an energy being so that being can be reborn in human form, and the being’s rate of growth is phenomenally accelerated.  If this sounds like a familiar plot to some, then I’m guessing you’ve either read my film review for Captain Marvel from my Facebook-posting days, or you’re enough of a Marvel Comics buff to have read the horrendous David Michelinie-written story arc that some fans would refer to as ‘the Marcus incident’, but which I and many others would know as ‘the rape of Carol Danvers’.

 In the story I’m describing, Carol Danvers develops a pregnancy that takes days to come to term, giving birth to a child who then grows at an accelerated rate, only to turn out to be the human form of an extra-dimensional being who plucked Carol from our space-time continuum in order to essentially rape her, all so he could be born in a form compatible with our dimension.  In this, the Trek episode at hand is almost identical, even with the rapist’s human form causing a major sci-fi techno-babble disruption that has to be ended by said rapist leaving; the only difference is that where Ian chooses to effectively kill his human form to save the Enterprise, Marcus took Carol back to his home dimension.

 The key similarity between the two stories is there’s no effort by the main characters to consider how the character whose has been subjected to a sci-fi-twisted version rape feels.  There is no attempt to consider their emotional well-being, no investigation to seek and punish the culprit, and when the culprit is known, again nothing is done to penalise them.  Frankly, this episode is just Trek at its worst, and there’s not even any follow-up in later episodes regarding the impact on Deanna.  Add in Polaski’s stupid and out-of-place prejudice against Data, not to mention Data being very, very stupid in his question bombardment of Deanna during her labour, and it’s easy to see why most people hate the living guts out of this episode.  That’s before you factor in the meeting where Picard, Riker, Data and Worf all discuss this like they should have any say in the matter.  None of them are the father, the pregnancy is not happening to them, and their supposition of any authority in the matter makes me want to shove them out the nearest airlock.  This episode only gets 1 out of 10 for a few good scenes not otherwise connected with the title plot.

Episode 2: Where Silence Has Lease

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

While on a charting mission, the Enterprise, discovers a zone of pure blackness in space; probes launched into the area simply disappear. As they study it further, the zone expands and soon envelops the Enterprise, leaving them in a black void with sensors reporting complete nothingness outside. Captain Picard orders the ship on a return course, but they find that they cannot escape; they leave a stationary beacon behind them, only to have it reappear ahead of them again.

 A Romulan Warbird suddenly decloaks in front of the ship and attacks, and Picard orders the crew to return fire; they destroy the Warbird, but Picard is suspicious of how easily this occurs. The crew then detect what appears to be their sister ship, the USS Yamato, approaching, but it does not respond to hails. Commander Riker and Lt. Worf beam over to search the ship, where they find it empty with various inconsistencies in its construction, including more seemingly impossible physical loops. The Enterprise then detects an exit from the darkness, but cannot lock onto the away team to retrieve them before the opening disappears. The Yamato begins to fade away, but the Enterprise is able to beam Riker and Worf back just in time. More openings appear in the blackness, each closing as soon as the Enterprise approaches them. Picard realizes that they are being manipulated, and orders a full stop.

 Suddenly, an entity with a distorted, almost childlike face as a result of it attempting to look humanoid, appears in the void, calling itself Nagilum. It announces its curiosity about humans and their "limited existence" and would like to test the limits of the human body. It causes Ensign Haskell to experience violent convulsions, and he then falls to the floor dead. Nagilum then states that it wants to know everything about death, asserting that it would take between a third and a half of the Enterprise's crew to complete its experiments. Picard decides to activate the ship's self-destruct sequence rather than to submit to Nagilum's whims.

 As the crew prepares for their end, Picard is tested again by Nagilum through peculiar behaviour displayed by doppelgangers of Counsellor Troi and Lt. Commander Data, both of whom question the self-destruct order. After these facsimiles are gone and the countdown nears zero, the void suddenly vanishes, leaving the Enterprise in normal space. Picard orders the ship to move away at high speed, and when he is finally satisfied that they are truly free, cancels the self-destruct sequence. As the Enterprise continues on its mission, Picard is met by the face of Nagilum on his ready-room computer. Nagilum offers its evaluation of humanity, criticizing the species’ faults and claiming they have nothing in common with its kind. Picard disagrees, pointing out that their recent encounter shows that both species are curious, a logical statement to which Nagilum concedes before disappearing.

Review:

This episode is far better than this season’s opening episode, but at the same time it’s a bit confusing.  While with some episodes it’s easy to grasp their intention or confirm what you suspect it to be by checking a wiki site, such as Wikipedia itself or a Trek-specific site like Memory Alpha.  However, this time I’m not sure what we have there is right. The episode’s director claims it’s based on the idea of perspective and how people from different groups don’t necessarily perceive each other in the same light, but I fail to see why that idea would be explored through the idea of an alien being subjecting the Enterprise crew through experimentation.  To me, that whole idea of the Enterprise and its crew being proverbial ‘lab rats’ made the whole thing more of an attempt to show audiences why lab tests on live animals can be cruel and wrong.

 The fact that the episode is so confused is ultimately what makes it a fairly forgettable one among the lifetime of the TNG series. The writers should have made up their minds what the episode was meant to deal with and then deal with that exclusively in a way that wouldn’t confuse any prospective audiences.  As an autistic person, I believe in what I call the three C’s; be clear, be concise, be consistent.  Apparently, whoever wrote this episode couldn’t be clear if their life depended on it, otherwise we’d have a clear idea just from watching it what its intent was.  For this reason, I give this episode only 5 out of 10.

Episode 3: Elementary, Dear Data

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

As the Enterprise waits to rendezvous with the USS Victory, Chief Engineer La Forge and Lt. Commander Data go to the Holodeck to recreate a Sherlock Holmes mystery. Data, playing Holmes, has memorized all of the Holmes stories, and recognizes and solves the mystery within minutes. Frustrated, Geordi leaves the holodeck, leaving Data confused. In Ten Forward, Geordi explains that the fun is in solving the unknown; Data does not understand. Overhearing their conversation, Chief Medical Officer Dr Pulaski asserts that Data is incapable of solving a mystery to which he does not already know the outcome. Data accepts Dr Pulaski's challenge and invites her to join them on the Holodeck. There, Geordi instructs the computer to create a unique Sherlock Holmes mystery with an adversary who is capable of defeating Data.

 In the new program, Dr Pulaski is kidnapped, and Data investigates. They soon discover that Professor Moriarty is responsible, but when they find him with Pulaski in his hideout, they are shocked when they learn that Moriarty is aware of the Holodeck program being a simulation, and is able to access the Holodeck computer, showing them a sketch he has drawn of the Enterprise, based on the computer's description. Data and Geordi leave the Holodeck to alert Captain Picard, and Geordi realizes that when he asked the computer to create the program, he had asked for an adversary who could defeat Data, not Sherlock Holmes. As a result, the computer gave the Holodeck character Professor Moriarty the intelligence, self-awareness and cunning needed to challenge Data, plus the ability to access the ship's computer. When Moriarty gains access to ship stabilizer controls, Data returns to the Holodeck with Captain Picard.

 Picard meets Moriarty, who demonstrates that he has evolved beyond his original programming and asks to continue to exist in the real world. Picard tells Moriarty that this would not be possible; instead, he saves the program and tells Moriarty that if they ever discover a way to convert Holodeck matter into a permanent form, they will bring him back. Picard discontinues the program and the USS Victory arrives, with La Forge preparing to present a model of the historic HMS Victory. Moriarty’s actions have damaged the model slightly, but Picard assures La Forge that she’ll soon be “ship-shape and Bristol fashion.”

Review:

Data impersonating Holmes briefly was a great bit in one of the season 1 episodes, and it’s brilliant seeing it fleshed out to be the subject of a full episode, which is made even better with guest actor Daniel Davis’ performance as Moriarty.  In fact, if Brent Spiner and Daniel Davis haven’t played Holmes and Moriarty somewhere at sometime outside of their Next Generation appearances, I have to wonder why on Earth not, because they’re too good in these roles not to have carried them on in another form of Holmes adaptation.

 Although the episode gets some praise around its focus on computers and artificial intelligence, these are just window-dressing for the real elements of the story.  Leaving aside the development of the friendship between Geordi and Data, and Polaski’s irksome Data-bashing, there are two key issues at play.  The first is the question of whether someone who learns by rote can be imaginative, whether they can show the invention and intuition necessary to solve something original.  Because Data has characteristics akin to autism, and because as a writer who is autistic, I have struggled to develop original concepts to write about, I don’t see Data’s struggles as a strictly AI question. Rather, it is a question that affects many humans and is just being explored through a character who happens to be an ‘artificial’ life-form.

 The second key issue is the power and importance of the words we choose.  In this episode, a single word makes a huge difference by giving a holodeck character sentience, something that in hindsight would pave the way for the Doctor on Star Trek: Voyager, Deep Space Nine’s Vic Fontaine and numerous other self-aware holographic characters within the overall Trek canon.  This is why the study of language is highly important, and why our freedom to express ourselves is a great power that demands the greatest responsibility in order to be wielded well.  We’ve seen only too well in recent times the damage that can be inflicted in real life through the misuse of words, and it’s a lesson we need to hammer home to people now more than ever.  Without doubt, this episode is some of the finest Trek going, and I give it the first top score in my reviews for episodes of this series; 10 out of 10.

Episode 4: The Outrageous Okana

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

As the Enterprise passes through the Coalition of Madena, it detects a small cargo ship, under manual control by its single occupant. The crew makes contact with the pilot, Captain Thadiun Okona, and offer to repair a part on his ship. Captain Picard orders that the Enterprise tow Okona's ship while Okona is brought on board. The crew soon finds that Okona has taken a keen interest in the women on the ship, beginning with Transporter Chief Robinson, and is in no rush to effect repairs.

 Continuing through the sector, the Enterprise is set upon by ships from two different planets, each of which locks its weapons upon the Enterprise, though both are vastly outclassed, and pose no actual threat. Debin, from the planet Atlec, accuses Okona of impregnating his daughter Yanar, while Kushell from the planet Straleb asserts that Okona has stolen a state treasure, the Jewel of Thesia. The two leaders clearly know each other, and both demand that their own claim on Okona take priority. Okona denies both accusations but offers nothing to defend himself with. Picard offers to arbitrate the dispute, and brings Debin, Yanar, Kushell and Benzan, Kushell's son, aboard the Enterprise. Okona sits and quietly listens to both Debin and Kushell's arguments but does not offer any evidence to defend himself from both allegations.

 After much more arguing amongst the two leaders, Okona then declares that he is the father of Yanar's child, and offers to marry her. Benzan then declares that the Jewel of Thesia hasn't been stolen: it is revealed that Okona has been acting as a go-between for Yanar and Benzan, who are in love with each other, and that Yanar is pregnant with Benzan's child. Benzan has offered to marry Yanar, intending to present the Jewel of Thesia, which he asserts is rightly his, as a courting gift. Okona was carrying the jewel between the two planets when he got engine trouble, and he only falsely claimed to be the father to force the two lovers to reveal the truth. Embarrassed and frustrated with how her relationship with Benzan has caused such a crisis and the quarrelling of their parents, especially her father's pressuring her to marry out of honour, an exasperated Yanar declares that she is not marrying Benzan or Okona. Okona has a heart-to-heart conversation with Yanar about how she cannot throw away her relationship simply because their parents cannot "behave themselves". Yanar takes heed to Okona's advice, she and Benzan profess their love to each other in front of Debin and Kushell, who finally realize how happy their children are with each other. Picard cannot get involved in the internal political disputes between the two planets and allows Okona to go on his way once his ship is repaired, and Debin and Kushell are left to argue (in a friendly manner) about wedding details.

 Meanwhile, Lt. Commander Data is motivated to explore the concept of humour after meeting Okona. Prompted by Guinan, Data uses the holodeck to generate a comedy club setting and stand-up comic as his adviser, but when he performs in front of the holographic audience, he is dismayed to find that they are predisposed to laugh at anything he says or does. Guinan cheers Data up by explaining that being able to laugh or make people laugh is not the ‘be-all and end-all’ of being human; Data agrees, but points out that ‘there is nothing more uniquely human’. As the Enterprise parts with Okona, Data is able to unintentionally make the crew laugh, but does not at first understand the joke himself.

Review:

Observant fans of DC Comics-based TV shows will note that this episode features an uncredited appearance by guest actress Teri Hatcher, who would later appear as Lois Lane in Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman during the 90’s, followed by a role as Daxamite Queen Rhea in the Supergirl TV show of the 2010’s.  However, her role in this late 80’s guest appearance is fairly minor, simply serving as the first among a number of ‘conquests’ made by the title guest character, the charming rogue that is Captain Okana (played by William O’Campbell).

 The title plot of the episode is a rare bit of fun for a Trek episode, though it lacks for much depth, and ends up verging on being a Romeo and Juliet in Space situation once we find out Okana has been playing go-between for this episode’s pair of star-faring lovers.  Luckily, Okana’s portrayal in the third act nicely fleshes the character out into the heroic outlaw definition of his characterisation as a rogue, and avoids the necessity of the traditional R&J suicide pact.  Frankly, I think it’s a wonder more Shakespeare adaptations don’t work in an Okana-like go-between and a Juliet-is-pregnant-by -Romeo plot to create a true romantic ending, as opposed to the original Shakespeare version that was just tragic in its entirety. Then again, what do you expect from someone how also wrote comedies that were actually romances and tragedies that were actually comedy?  If a great play-write like that can’t be accurate when categorising his plays, how can you expect him to really write well?

 The B-plot is a bit more of Trek’s stock-in-trade as Data tries to grasp the concept of humour, but Joe Piscopo makes for a lousy choice of holographic mentor, as his performances were so ridiculously silly, I just had to fast-forward them.  Likewise, as great as Whoopi Goldberg is as Guinnan, I don’t think she was necessarily coming at teaching Data from the right angle either. Leaving aside Data not being programmed with emotion, which is a key component in effective humour, the episode tried to throw our favourite android in right at the deep end, and therein lies the B-plot’s failure

 As I’ve noted before, Data is many ways not unlike an autistic person, and this includes some aspects of his misunderstandings around humour.  Now as a person with autism, there is very little that I have learned well by being thrust in at the deep end and having to adapt on my proverbial feet.  By my very nature, I’m someone who needs to take time to learn something new before putting it into practice, and I need to learn in a way that works best for me.  When I’ve been doing some research for my novel writing, for instance, reading books and making notes has been a key element of learning at least one key item being worked into the second novel in my trilogy.

 By the same token, Data doesn’t seek any non-interactive forms of information about humour or comedy first, which he perhaps should have done before seeking the advice of Guinnan or any holodeck comedians.  Unfortunately, the title plot crowds out the time he could have spent doing that, and so a great moment of character development just becomes so much cringe-worthy filler.  Overall score for this episode, 5 out of 10.

Episode 5: Loud as a Whisper

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise is set to take aboard Riva, a renowned and successful negotiator, to help resolve a centuries-old war between two tribes on planet Solais V. Riva is deaf and mute due to a hereditary genetic deficiency, but travels with a "chorus", an entourage of three people in telepathic communication with him, who are able to enunciate his thoughts. Riva dismisses the Enterprise crew's briefing on the history of the conflict, explaining that the dispute has long since become personal, regardless of whatever tangible concerns that may have started it. When Riva, his chorus, and several Enterprise officers beam down for the meeting, a rebel member of one tribal delegate fires upon them, killing the chorus. The tribe's leader immediately brands him a traitor and executes him, begging for the talks to continue, but the away team has already begun emergency transport back to the Enterprise amid the chaos.

 Riva, frustrated and agitated, struggles to communicate with the crew, so Captain Picard orders Lt. Commander Data to find and learn Riva's sign language in order to act as a translator. Counsellor Troi offers to take Riva's place at the mediation, but Riva believes the Solaian tribes will only cooperate with him. Riva is prepared to abandon the peace process and return to his home planet, accepting his failure, but Troi inspires him to stay, suggesting that he turn his disadvantage into an advantage, recalling Riva's own negotiating tactic.

 Riva returns to the meeting spot on the planet, and to the crew's surprise, tells them that they should leave, and he will signal Starfleet when the negotiations are complete, as they may take several months. In order for the tribes to work with Riva, they will both be forced to learn sign language from Riva, which will create a shared experience between them. Thus, Riva is turning his disadvantage of being unable to communicate into an advantage. The crew leaves Riva to await the tribe representatives.

Review:

This episode is another great example of Star Trek doing a good job, for the most part.  According to the Wikipedia page for the episode, the show’s writers initially wanted the deaf character of Riva to gain the ability to speak after losing his interpreters, but the guest actor Howie Seago opposed this.  Seago was deaf himself, and felt that the concept would encourage a practice of forcing deaf children to speak aloud rather than through sign language, and the show amended the script accordingly.  Considering this show had fired a main cast actress for speaking up against sexism in the show’s writing, this kind of receptiveness from the show’s writing staff seems almost uncharacteristic.

 As a result, we get a great episode about accepting the differently abled for who they are, thought not perhaps a great as it could have been.  I find it strange, for instance, that if people with sensory deficits still exist in the future, sign language hasn’t been worked into the basic education of Federation cultures or into Starfleet. It is even stranger considering how Worf notes the usefulness of the non-vocal communication style while Data is learning it, because it only serves to highlight how useful learning sign is. Had more of the crew shown an ability to sign, maybe there might have been more of a push to work sign into national curriculums, especially considering that the children of most countries are more likely to encounter someone who is deaf than someone from another country.

 Even worse is Polaski having looked into prosthetics to give Riva the ability to hear and then offering something similar to Geordi.  It makes her the symbol of regularly abled arrogance, an arrogance that suggests everyone not fitting into the regularly abled average is somehow defective or lesser and somehow needs ‘fixing’.  That should have all been taken out because as Riva notes, we’re all special in our own way.  If someone is born deaf or blind and they can be their best self with that as part of their own normality, then that is fine, and it’s not them who need to change to fit the world.  The world needs to change to fit them, as it should for autistics, for the dyslexic, for the wheelchair-bound and everyone else outside of the narrow (and too often narrow-minded) scope of our societal default.  Except for Polaski, all the other main characters are at least trying to embody proper acceptance of people like Geordi and Riva, and we need much more of that kind of acceptance in real life.  Overall, I’d give this episode 8 out of 10.

[ramajmedia]

Bones: The 5 Best Episodes And 5 Worst (According To IMDb)

Bones covered significant ground in its twelve-year run. As recently as 2017, we saw new episodes from the crime drama, and we're still grieving its loss. While a hit like this show has many episodes that practically glue you to your seat, there were a few others that people didn't much care for. Sometimes we were invested in the crimes, but most often we were invested in the personal lives of the characters. In particular, Booth (David Boreanaz) and Brennan (Emily Deschanel). While some episodes did a great job of portraying either the cases or the characters, or both, some didn't have as much luck with the audience. Without further ado, here are 5 of the series' best episodes, and 5 of the worst, according to IMDb.

10 Worst: "The Crank In The Shaft" Season 4, Episode 5

For anyone that's ever feared getting stuck in an elevator, this episode is your nightmare times three thousand. A group of people get stuck and even witness a decomposed leg, with the heel still attached, fall through a ceiling panel. Not a good workday. Even by Bones standards, this episode was especially gory with the remains all over the place in the elevator shaft. We'd rate it lowly just based on that; there's only so much gore some of us can take. Nonetheless, for such a gory episode, it has something of an average plotline for the victim and the murderer, which didn't quite live up to the hype of the horror portrayed in the episode's beginning. Plus, the victim wasn't likable at all, which certainly didn't help matters.

9 Best: "The Woman In Limbo" Season 1, Episode 22

One of the highest-rated episodes of the first season, this episode finds Brennan in emotional turmoil as she begins the investigation into her family's past, following the discovery of her missing mother's previously unidentified remains in storage at the Jeffersonian. Old wounds are reopened as Brennan and the team work vigorously to uncover Brennan's mother's cause of death and where she was in the two years following her disappearance.

RELATED: Bones: All Of Brennan's Interns, Ranked

Brennan is reunited with her estranged brother and discovers that her parents were not who she believed they were. The episode ends on a cliffhanger with Brennan's father's message on her answering machine, warning her to stop investigating. This episode gives us all a deep insight into Brennan's difficult childhood and the pain she's held ever since.

8 Worst: "The Money Maker On The Merry-Go-Round" Season 10, Episode 7

There honestly wasn't much for us to care about when it comes to this episode. We were horrified that remains were found under a merry-go-round, something that's supposed to be a beloved experience for children, but beyond that, we weren't too impressed. It wasn't a case that we could get invested in, and there were too many subplots going on. Brennan and Booth spend the duration of the episode discussing how to deal with their young daughter swearing, and Aubrey (a junior FBI agent) and Brennan have a moment where they discuss their struggles with their fathers being criminals. Add in the ridiculous wife of the victim that couldn't tip and we're totally over this episode.

7 Best: "The Nightmare In The Nightmare" Season 11, Episode 22

A serial killer and Bones in danger. Not an unheard-of concept, but this particular episode stands out. For one, "The Puppeteer" lives with his victims' bodies prior to disposing of them. Disturbing on many levels, yes. Though it does pose an interesting psychological study, it's also horrifying in true Bones fashion.

RELATED: Bones: The 5 Best (And 5 Worst) Relationships

Meanwhile, Bones deals with her guilt over not catching the killer sooner and soon finds herself in a little over her head. Bones isn't afraid to get gory, deep and disturbing: this episode, as many others do, support that notion. As the series was winding down, they weren't willing to go out without a few bangs in the midst.

6 Worst: "The Boneless Bride In The River" Season 2, Episode 16

No bride should be dead for their wedding. Much less boneless. That in itself is gory. Plus, the plotline to determine what happened to the poor woman is a tad complicated, which may have added to throwing off the audience's interest in the episode. Meanwhile, Brennan struggles with whether or not to join her boyfriend, Sully, on a sailing trip. Now, at the time, Brennan and Booth were in a will-they, won't-they phase that audiences were dedicated to following and they were probably not enthusiastic about the idea of Brennan sailing away and leaving Booth behind. Viewers were hit with too much to process: boneless brides and more Booth and Brennan drama? We need a minute to digest all that.

5 Best: "The Man In The Fallout Shelter" Season 1, Episode 9

Christmas isn't so cheery when the team is quarantined to the lab, effectively derailing everyone's Christmas plans. While the team initially struggles to stay merry, they do continue conducting their investigation and bring peace to the murdered man's girlfriend, now an elderly woman, whom he was going to marry in Paris in the 1950s. Brennan frequently shoots down any Christmastime cheer, but there's a good reason as to why: her parents disappeared just before Christmas, hence instilling bad memories around the holidays for Brennan.

RELATED: 20 Things That Make No Sense About Bones

The fallout? Everyone is cleared just in time to have something of a Christmas after all, proving that Christmas miracles truly do exist (especially when Brennan gives the murdered man's granddaughter a rare penny that he had in his remains that is worth enough money to send her to college).

4 Worst: "The Carrot In The Kudzu" Season 9, Episode 18

A children's television show star is murdered and brought to the lab. This is off-putting in itself; a children's show TV star, murdered? That's like finding Mister Rogers on the autopsy table, and no one wants that. Strike one. Strike two? Turns out the victim played it a little too fast-and-loose in his personal life, cheating with his brother's wife. Gross. It's no mystery as to why this episode wasn't rated too well; too many facts in the episode's plot are against any chance of success. We're happy to skip over this one in binge-watching.

3 Best: "The Doctor In The Photo" Season 6, Episode 9

The usually objective Brennan finds herself seeing double in this explosive Season 6 episode. When a doctor is found in a tree, Brennan has trouble seeing anyone other than herself, especially as she digs further in the doctor's life. No family, no friends, no significant other but a dedicated doctor with plenty of accomplishments.

RELATED: 15 Stars You Forgot Appeared On Bones

This episode is interesting because it shows us that even the most objective of people come across something that they believe are reflections of themselves, and therefore war with their own subjectivity. Not only this, but Brennan's subjectivity actually helps her solve the case, once she allows herself to be subjective, that is. For anyone that's ever been spooked by what could be their doppelganger, then this is the episode for you.

2 Worst: "The Ghost In The Machine" Season 8, Episode 9

While this episode has an interesting point of view (it's from the skull of the deceased), it's the lowest-rated episode of the series on IMDb. While the team attempt to solve the murder of a young teenager named Colin as his skull watches, a psychic (played by '80s pop star Cyndi Lauper) whisks into the Jeffersonian, claiming that the skull was "calling her." Now, it could be the psychic aspect that audiences didn't like. It could be the fact that the story was told from the skeleton's point of view (let's face it, this is a tad creepy even in Bones logic). Whatever the reason, perhaps these elements together were a bit over-the-top and unbelievable, ergo the low rating.

1 Best: "Aliens In A Spaceship" Season 2, Episode 9

This episode was nothing short of emotional or riveting. The episode begins with Brennan trapped in a car underground, alongside a badly injured Hodgins (TJ Thyne). The episode takes us back 48 hours earlier, showing us what led up to their capture, as well as the efforts made by the team to track them down before the two run out of oxygen. Brennan is forced to perform emergency surgery to save Hodgins, and the two put their heads together to get out of their situation, from Brennan hot-wiring the car to send a message to Booth through her phone to the two blowing up the car airbags hoping for freedom. In what they believe may be their last moments, Brennan and Hodgins share tearful exchanges prior to the explosion, something that still tugs at the heartstrings all these years later. This is definitely one of our favorite episodes of the series for that reason.

NEXT: Bones: Where Are They Now?

source https://screenrant.com/bones-best-worst-episodes-imdb/

[avaantares]

My thoughts on Torchwood: Aliens Among Us

Minimal spoilers. I’ll discuss themes and events, but try to avoid any major reveals.

Putting the rest after the jump for length and spoiler protection.

I debated whether to even post this, because I still haven’t quite made up my mind whether or not I actually like S5. I mean, the production values of the episodes are excellent, as usual (Big Finish knows what they’re about in that department), and the performances are great, and even the ongoing series hook is interesting -- but I think the problem is that I’m not actually enjoying the direction the series is headed. It’s done well, but it doesn’t quite feel like Torchwood to me. And that’s not just because more than half the original cast is missing; it’s a shift in something vital and central to the series. Its purpose, perhaps. I’m still digesting the episodes I’ve listened to. (More on that in a bit.)

Anyway, I’ll start with my take on the characters and their new roles:

Jack - Apparently having exhausted all his potential development in previous stories, Jack is relegated almost to the background of this series. He makes the usual lewd jokes and sleeps around and dies when the plot demands it, but he’s practically a cardboard cutout, doing Action Things when necessary and coasting on listeners’ affection for him from previous stories. After four episodes, there’s still no evidence that he’ll have anything resembling a character arc, which is massively disappointing.

Jack also shows some disturbing behavior here -- namely, he pseudo-stalks and seduces a man he’s considering hiring on at Torchwood just to get more information about him, which is not only dishonest and manipulative, but is a REALLY FREAKING CREEPY thing for a potential boss to do, especially if the hiring had gone through.

But no worries on that account, since Jack then bars said potential employee from Torchwood because he made a mistake in the field and got civilians killed. Jack cites the Doctor’s “no second chances” line and pontificates about how he won’t tolerate people dying on his watch. This seems out of character coming from the man who forgave Gwen for unleashing an alien gas that killed dozens of civilians, forgave Ianto for betraying them all and getting two innocent people killed in the Hub, forgave Owen Harper for rebelling and putting a bullet through Jack’s brain, etc.... not to mention Jack’s own tendency to shoot first and apologize later, for which he was often criticized by both Gwen and the Doctor. Even if he’s changed his views on violence in the meantime, I can’t imagine him drawing such a hard line in the sand without at least turning it into a teaching experience. Jack is the king of second chances; it seems hypocritical for him to deny one to a panicked newcomer.

Gwen - I’ve seen several other people say that they didn’t recognize Gwen until the character identified herself at the end of the episode, and I had the same experience. Her Welsh accent seems much stronger than it was in the TV series. There may be plot reasons for that, or it may just be an inconsistency. (EDIT: I’ve since read that, due to plot reasons, Alexandria Riley is actually performing most of Gwen’s speaking parts, so the difference is definitely intentional.)

Gwen doesn’t seem to serve a significant purpose in the stories until the extreme end of episode 2, when she conducts the major reveal of what will be (I suspect) her ongoing story arc for the whole series. That subplot is by far the most compelling thing about this new series, and honestly is probably the only thing with enough hook to keep me listening.

Mr. Colchester - The spiritual successor to the conspicuously absent Ianto Jones, Mr. Colchester is the dry, longsuffering general support. In many ways he’s the most complex and developed of the new characters, and while it took me a bit to warm up to him, I quite like him now. (Of course, since he’s basically replacement-Ianto, that may explain why I enjoy his commentary so much.)

We’ve learned a bit about Mr. Colchester’s personal life, as well as just a sliver of backstory, and I hope that is setting up for some kind of series-long arc for him. I think he has a lot of undeveloped potential. I’m very curious to know exactly how he came to Torchwood.

Orr - Orr manages to be interesting despite the fact that their introduction scene feels a bit too much like Discourse(TM). (I described the scene to a friend as “Tumblr: The Audio Drama.”) As a gender- and biologically-fluid being, Orr can psychically tune in to entities to acquire information in a way I’ve never seen done before, and that leaves open a potential gold mine of story opportunities and mystery resolutions. However, since the two episodes in which Orr features are largely spent establishing their abilities, there’s still not much sign of a dynamic arc. It’s strongly suggested that they will become a full-time Torchwood operative, which should be... interesting, given that crew and their proclivities.

Tyler Steele - Let me put this on record right now: I do not like Tyler. At all. I wouldn’t mind if he got flattened by a spaceship.

Now, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad character -- sometimes the most compelling characters are ones you despise, and Tyler’s role in the story seems to be going in that direction -- but it does bother me that Jack seems intent on carrying on an ongoing sexual relationship with a character who is so morally questionable, disrespectful, self-serving, and generally kind of a jerk. I can’t imagine Jack putting up with that, no matter how good Tyler is in bed, unless we’re just going to undo the past ten years’ worth of Jack’s character development and kick him all the way back to the way he was with Captain John Hart.

Tyler himself is the only one of the new characters who does seem to have the setup for a dynamic story, which could be more interesting if they turn him into a villain or boost his moral grayness to have him play both sides. (Personally, I’d really like to see him waffle for a while, then cross a line and become unredeemable, forcing Jack to have to stop him. That would provide a nice characterization moment for Jack, too.)

Other Characters: Rhys and Mary Cooper (Gwen’s mother) get cameos, but that’s about it. At least two other named characters (Andy and Billis Manger) are coming back for the next set, so we’ll hope for an expanded cast next time.

Before I get critical, I do want to mention a few specifics that this series does well:

It’s implied that either there is no coffee allowed in the Hub, or no one is allowed to use Ianto’s coffee machine. Which is heartbreaking, but also gratifying, as it implies that Jack can’t bear to let that one piece of Ianto be replaced. Many of us were worried that Ianto would be forgotten or just garner a token mention, as he has in most series/publications set post-MD, but it’s nice to see actual evidence that they remember and mourn him.

It’s also suggested that Jack is still thinking constantly about Ianto, even years after he died. Which is small comfort after we’ve had to witness Jack getting it on with that creep Tyler multiple times, but at least Ianto hasn’t been erased completely.

The reveal of the subplot surrounding Gwen came as a complete shock to me. I often work sneaky plot things out beforehand, but I’ll confess, I did not see that one coming. (Others have pointed out that this plot element may have been foreshadowed in a previous episode...? But we’ll need more information about what’s actually going on before confirming that.)

I like that they’re operating out of the literally collapsing ruins of the Hub and are completely broke, even though it does raise some questions about EU continuity (we saw the Hub cleaned up after the explosion in Long Time Dead, and Gwen was trying to rebuild it in Forgotten Lives). It’s nice -- and thematically appropriate -- to have them huddling in a broken ruin of the past while trying to come to terms with the future.

Now, some thoughts on the story itself:

I’m really not sure how to approach this new world, where aliens populate Cardiff and are so far from secret that there are human protest groups lobbying in the streets to remove them. It acknowledges the events of Exodus Code and the Titan Comics series (I have major issues with that, too, but that’s another conversation entirely). At this point the series has split so far from the known Whoniverse that it has more in common with awkward American stepchild Miracle Day than with its own BBC parent series. I feel like we’re now trapped in a bubble universe that is never going to resolve with the original series of Torchwood.

Anyway... Cardiff is overrun by aliens, and apparently instead of Torchwood trying to protect humanity from alien threats, in this brave new Cardiff, Torchwood is trying to protect... the aliens? For motivations that remain unclear to me, in episode 2, Gwen and Mr. Colchester spend a whole night repeatedly putting their lives on the line to protect an alien from capture after they witness her eating innocent humans. Reluctantly, she claims, but the extremes they go to to protect her (including endangering human civilians and hospital staff) just don’t seem justified when she and her family are actual threats to humanity.

The ongoing story of S5 centers around the economic and political takeover of Cardiff from a particular race of aliens. It’s sinister enough, and provides a backdrop for multiple villain-of-the-week episodes, but there’s really no soul to it. Maybe that will change with future episodes, but I think this points to the main reasons I’m not really getting into this series as much as previous Big Finish Torchwood dramas:

Classic Torchwood was a character-driven series set against a dramatic (and often camp) space fantasy backdrop. At the end of the day, we didn’t care what kind of aliens were attacking Earth that week; we worried how Ianto processed his grief, wondered whether or not Owen actually had a heart under his flinty exterior, cheered the little moments when Jack opened up to his friends, and mourned when characters we had grown to care for sacrificed their lives in defense of the people of Cardiff and the world. The character development was the hook, and the episode plots, for the most part, were secondary.

This is one reason so many fans were disappointed in Miracle Day, which was more an American political thriller than space fantasy, and introduced new characters who were wooden and lacked compelling character arcs. The premise of Miracle Day was fascinating, but we couldn’t engage with the story the way we did with the gripping bureaucratic drama of Children of Earth because we were put off by MD’s flat, unlikable protagonists.

AAU, as well, is missing some of those critical elements that let the audience engage deeply with the story. While there are complex things happening in the political sphere, we come into S5 knowing nothing about the new characters, and the characters we do know seem too static. Gwen does get an interesting story hook, but not until the halfway mark of this boxed set.

In short, I just don’t care enough. I miss the depth and complexity of the original characters, and I miss the ongoing growth that made Jack and Gwen interesting. I don’t know the new characters well enough to feel strongly about what happens to them, and there is little indication that they will become dynamic over the course of the next few stories.

It’s a shame, because I love Torchwood and want more of it, but I just don’t feel like I’m getting proper Torchwood with these stories. I’ll probably give the next part of Aliens Among Us a try, but I’ll wait to see how it goes before deciding on the third set. it’s hard to justify the high price of the box set for a series I’m basically ambivalent about.