The latest Torchwood offering, Children of Earth, has been something of a mixed bag. In typical Russell T Davies fashion, the main story involves a catastrophic event affecting the entire world all at once, which is directly witnessed by virtually everyone in the world. Gone are the small scale stories of old; as RTD is so fond of pointing out, no one in this day and age could possibly care about a story unless it strikes close to home, right? In this case, all the children of the world begin speaking a single message: “we are coming.”

Day One

In the first part of the miniseries, Jack and Ianto pay a visit to a “neighbor” who has died in a local hospital. One of the doctors there, Rupesh, follows them out after observing some suspicious behavior and alien technology. Apparently this is enough evidence for him to label them as Torchwood, which apparently now “everyone talks about.” So much for Torchwood being a secret agency whose real function is unknown even to the police and government types. Honestly, how hard can it be to keep a three-man team secret? Especially with retcon at their disposal. RTD always has to fall into the same trap of carrying the whole “hero mystique” thing too far with all his main characters; first the Doctor, now Torchwood. The mystery itself is contrived, not earned, and then shoved down your throat at inappropriate times.

Anyway, Jack tells Rupesh that he’s never heard of Torchwood. But wait—what’s that engraved on the side of the SUV you’re sitting in at this very moment? Hmm… must be a coincidence. Jack’s just a closet Doctor Who fan who sat in his bedroom coming up with anagrams of Doctor Who that he could engrave on his SUV. Yeah, that’s it. And when Rupesh later tries to track down Torchwood, he is able to find his way directly to their top secret underground base of operations, because apparently when you ask about Torchwood, people just point towards the bay. Good thing the location of Torchwood’s secret base is such common knowledge, or Rupesh may have had a real problem tracking Jack down again.

Throughout the episode, we’re presented with an array of bog-standard RTD characters who spew bog-standard RTD dialogue. (Admittedly, these characters become much better developed as the miniseries goes on, but in the first episode they are positively cardboard-cutout RTD characters.) Frobisher and Dekker are notable exceptions, but I think that might just be down to good casting. One of RTD’s biggest problems is his inability to write convincing character dialogue. RTD’s dialogue always involves enigmatic repetition for emphasis. In general, people simply do not sound like this. He writes his character dialogue as though each character is fighting to be the narrator of the story, pausing and repeating certain things for dramatic emphasis, instead of just being one player within the story. The way you make an unbelievable situation believable is through character reactions and dialogue, and this is perhaps RTD’s greatest weakness. Failing to create convincing character reactions means that you also fail to make what they are reacting to believable.

Another frustratingly annoying RTD trend is the overuse (and often misuse) of certain words in his character dialogue. A few of the examples that jumped out at me throughout Children of Earth are “clever,” “brilliant,” “proper” or “properly,” ending sentences with “though,” and exclamations like “oh my god.” While I’m on this track, two other annoying trends that I’ve noticed are characters introducing themselves with their full name and then other people using the person’s full name in their response (“Good luck, Lois Habiba”), and characters introducing themselves to others as though people care about them or want to know who they are (“Lois Habiba, I just started today, I’m helping out with things,” etc.). Essentially this amounts to the common trend of writing people to be overly self-important.

Another thing that, while minor, I also have to call out is RTD’s ridiculous overuse of deadlocks. This is a concept that can’t be killed off soon enough. It was created because the sonic screwdriver on the new series is so ridiculously overpowered that it can do virtually anything, even things far beyond locks and electronic devices. Someone came up with the deadlock seal being the “only” thing that a sonic screwdriver could not break through. Anyone see the problem here? Now that the sonic screwdriver has something to stand in its way, and apparently nothing else is able to defeat it, it needs to start being used everywhere. And boy, has it been. Now deadlocks are everywhere, overused to the point of ridicule. The solution to this is to change the sonic screwdriver’s behavior back to how it was on the old series, where it was only occasionally a viable solution to a problem, and it certainly did none of the crazy crap that it does on the new series like, according to Wikipedia, “deactivating [a plastic] Auton arm; detecting and sending signals, intercepting teleportation; remotely activating processes inside the TARDIS; burning, cutting, or igniting substances; fusing metal; [and] scanning and identifying substances.” I mean, come on. How do you not get how ridiculous all that is? It’s a high-frequency buzzing screwdriver for god’s sake.

Later in the episode, Clement McDonald smells that Gwen is pregnant, which Gwen goes back to the Torchwood hub to verify. She does this by placing her hand on a Canon flatbed photo scanner. After the Torchwood computer system makes a lovely PDF document of her hand, it is able to tell her that she is, in fact, pregnant, because there is a glowing red dot inside of her. Then Jack places his hand on the scanner, and after Adobe Acrobat makes another pass, Jack then finds out that he has a glowing red dot in him as well. Gwen and Ianto prepare to congratulate the happy father when they realize that this red dot is apparently a bomb instead of a baby. (Gwen might want to double check hers at this point.) Ianto then somehow works his magic to figure out that the bomb has two minutes left on the timer and that it will affect a one-mile radius. Jack originally plans to run out of the base and jump into the bay, but then decides it would be more fun (and profitable) to start taking bets on how much of the Torchwood hub he could destroy by staying inside of it. The resulting explosion promptly wipes out all of Torchwood’s assets along with Jack’s brother, who was presumably still chilling in Torchwood’s cryogenic stasis chambers at the time.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Day Two

Suddenly, John Fay comes in and hits the ground running with episode two, which is immediately more captivating and credible than RTD’s first episode. Fay begins by expounding upon the concept of a shady government coverup aimed at eliminating the members of the Torchwood team for nefarious reasons. Fay’s character interaction and dialogue are unrivaled throughout the miniseries. Everything comes together almost like a work of fine art in Fay’s script for episode two. He clearly understands the show and its characters very well. The scene with Gwen and Rhys conversing over a bed of potatoes, leading to a traffic incident because of stopped children, fills multiple roles perfectly and is surprisingly effective. It’s such a minor thing, but that scene jumped out at me almost above all else because of how perfectly everything just worked.

Fay’s style is the precision instrument that counters RTD’s sledgehammer. The plan to pose as undertakers and claim Rupesh’s body to get to Jack was not only clever, but perfectly integrated with the plot of the previous episode. We finally got to see what would happen to Jack in the event of an extremely violent death, like an explosion. The resurrection was handled in a very real way. It was also pretty smart to try and trap Jack within a block of cement, though naturally it wasn’t going to hold him forever. This episode established Lois as a much less annoying character than she was in the last episode, and also a substantial asset. The dialogue of all the extras also stood out as feeling very real; everyone felt like a real person, particularly the checkpoint guard and Corporal Camara. There was also a lot of well-placed humor too. I think this was perhaps the most consistently enjoyable episode out of all of them.

Rating: 5 out of 5

Day Three

The third episode is the most mixed of the middle three, which makes sense considering the mixed writing. I happen to think that James Moran is a good writer, and I’ve enjoyed both of his previous contributions to Doctor Who and Torchwood. However I did notice some RTDisms bleed through into what I assume to be a mostly Moran-penned script. The first thing that jumped out at me is the excessive and overly dramatic international TV broadcasts, which is a steadfast pillar of RTD scripts involving worldwide catastrophes.

The episode begins with the Torchwood team setting up shop in a warehouse that was previously used by Torchwood 1 before the Cybermen decided their services were no longer required. The warehouse itself felt similar to the one the Doctor, Jack, and Martha set up in during “The Sound of Drums.” The scene where they inventory everything they have on them in order to figure out what to do next is also very reminiscent of that episode.

The idea of turning Torchwood into a band of thieves was very entertaining, though I thought the dialogue from Gwen used to set the idea up felt very much like it came from RTD. Still, in practice, it was a great series of scenes, and it got Torchwood what they needed to continue their work. Really, the only areas where the episode felt mixed were towards the beginning, and it got to be much stronger by the end.

This episode marked the entrance of the 456. The 456 were frankly awesome. For the most part, they were handled in what I call a “classic Doctor Who” manner. For one thing, they had a completely alien physiology, but even better than that, we never got to fully see it because they were hidden from view behind a dense fog. I also loved their use of language and the timing of their responses. It was not only a realistic approximation of the translation from their language to ours, but it also achieved a level of intimidation which helped them to become more menacing. I also loved the contrast between the cold, calculating voice and the random lashing out of the creature inside the glass. It gave the 456 an air of unpredictability and made them more frightening.

I also liked how the 456 used the children during and after their arrival. It seems they almost had a sense of humor, deliberately making every child in the world point towards where they were arriving and preventing Britain from being able to keep it relatively quiet as I’m sure they would have preferred (despite how annoying it is to have the entire world being alerted to this event in the first place). They certainly understood the value of intimidation.

It was also nice to see the Torchwood contact lenses make a return. I’m all for the return of previously established technology; it’s always better to bring something back than to invent something completely new just for that episode. It was rather convenient that they happened to not be in the hub when it was destroyed, but at least it was explained, so it all works out in the end.

Finally, this episode sheds light on Jack’s involvement in the first visit of the 456 back in 1965. I thought this was a great twist; very dark, yet entirely in keeping with Jack’s character.

Rating: 4 out of 5

Day Four

Episode four is another masterpiece from John Fay. While not as consistently strong as episode two, this episode has the benefit of dealing with some extremely dark and gripping morality issues, the discussion of which was both realistic and compelling.

The first thing we get a closer look at in this episode is the situation Jack found himself in back in 1965. I loved how this scene played out; Jack was chosen for this job not because he could not die, but instead because he would not be weighed down by morality issues which would have most likely stopped anyone else from completing their assignment. Dark, yes, but also perfectly in keeping with what we know of Jack’s character by this point in time.

I also really liked the original contact humanity had with the 456. It was a fascinating angle to portray the species from, and made them seem extremely interesting. They came along out of nowhere and offered the human race an antivirus designed to defeat an up and coming virus before it had a chance to deal serious damage, and in return, all they asked for was twelve children. It seemed unthinkable, but ultimately it was the right choice under the circumstances and the deal was made. The 456 also claimed that the children would be going off to paradise. The entire 456 angle was well-portrayed and extremely mysterious, which made it all the more intriguing.

When we returned to the present, Gwen and Ianto had a chance to react to this revelation from Jack’s past, which served to illustrate how morally driven they both are. It was especially interesting to see how uncompromising Ianto was in his morality, telling Jack flatly that he should have stood up to the aliens and accepted nothing less than saving those children from their fate. This also sets up for Jack’s remorse later, when he decides to pay the 456 a visit and tell them they’re not getting what they want this time.

We also got a small taste of what exactly happened to children collected by the 456. This scene was another that was very well-handled; the 456 are asked what exactly they want the children for, and their response is simply “come in; bring your camera.” It was very creepy and effective to see the 1965 child still alive and conscious (albeit with physiological alterations), being used by the 456 for a purpose they would show but not tell.

Perhaps the best part of this episode was the discussion between the Prime Minister and his staff concerning the practicality of giving the 456 what they wanted. The science fiction backdrop allowed for a very real and chilling conversation about the ins and outs of actually capitulating to the 456 and handing over the children from a practical perspective, which I imagine to be at least somewhat reflective of how humanity would react if such a crisis were real. They discussed everything from where the children would be taken to how best to sell it to the public, as well as the obvious aspect of how to decide who would be selected. It was a terrifyingly real scene because of just how seriously everyone was taking it. The writing was superb, and each character was convincing in expressing their views. I don’t think anyone could have out-written John Fay here; he was truly on the top of his game.

Also, I totally recognized Nick Briggs from the first moment he was on screen, which amused me greatly. I wasn’t completely sure it was him until he had a line, but once he opened his mouth, all doubt was removed.

The episode ended with Jack and Ianto using Lois to record the Prime Minister’s earlier conversation to hold as leverage against him, allowing them to enter Thames House and speak directly with the 456. Jack stated calmly that they wouldn’t get what they wanted this time around, and that humanity would not stand for the loss of their children. 456 then commented on how “fascinating” this response was, and cited statistics about the child mortality rate on Earth, arguing that it was surprising that they fought so vehemently against losing children to the 456, while doing very little to save children from disease, poverty, and starvation. I actually thought that these lines should have been explored more, and more points should have been raised about how many children would die anyway, some of them under arguably worse circumstances than being taken by 456. It would have been yet another interesting spin on the morality angle if it were touched on more.

Ultimately, 456′s response to this was to release a pathogen into the building and kill everyone inside it. This highlights yet another aspect of the 456 that I loved: they did not make threats. They simply took action, and said “this is because you did not comply.” Sadly, aside from Jack (obviously) and Dekker (who makes it into a hazmat suit before the virus finished spreading), everyone in the building dies, including Ianto. Ianto’s death scene was nothing special, but it was handled well. What was perhaps most touching was the last scene of the episode, where Jack and Gwen cry over Ianto’s lifeless body.

Rating: 5 out of 5

Day Five

Episode five, sadly, is where everything goes to shit. The good news is that it certainly doesn’t happen right away—the first thirty-five and a half minutes are actually quite good. There are some really compelling scenes in the first half of episode five. The conversation in which the Prime Minister informs Frobisher that his children will be “inoculated” was exceptionally well-written. It did feel like the work of RTD at points, but for once that didn’t get in the way of the potency of the scene. And it must be said that the follow-up scene where Frobisher requisitions a handgun for himself and returns home to kill his family (and himself) to save them from their fate is perhaps one of the most powerful scenes in the entire miniseries.

There were several other scenes throughout episode five that stood out as being particularly good. The scenes with the soldiers going door to door to collect the remaining children from the homes of their parents were very good, as were the scenes where the neighborhood stood up to the military, buying time for Gwen, Rhys, and Ianto’s sister to save as many of the children as they could by getting them to a safer location.

There were a few other well-written scenes here and there, mostly dealing with interaction between Gwen, Rhys, and Andy. That, however, is where the good in this episode ends. Now it’s time to move on what I’ve been most dreading having to write about—the flaws.

First, I think it was a huge mistake to reveal the ultimate purpose of the 456. Not only was the final explanation unconvincing (it’s a typical RTD tactic to achieve “dark” writing—taking a real world problem in its simplest terms, and turning it into the sinister, large-scale motivation for his villain), but it also stripped away a huge chunk of the mystery and fear factor behind the 456. I think it would have been much scarier and much more compelling to never have any idea why they wanted our children. In addition, the 456 were asked in previous episodes why they wanted the children, and they always refused to spell out exactly what they would be used for. Why the sudden change of heart? It was so elegantly handled before, where they showed them in use without explicitly stating what was going on. Suddenly, the 456 have changed their modus operandi and just decided to lay all their cards on the table. This is inconsistent writing at worst, or a wasted opportunity for a truly horrifying villain at best.

Another RTD trend I’ve noticed is that of the repeated overdramatic monologue. He used this with the Rose voiceovers in “Doomsday,” and he’s done it again here with Gwen. First, he’ll write a supposedly dark-sounding character monologue to set the tone at the beginning of the episode (his style when writing monologues and dark dialogue like this is very noticeable as well), then he will repeat the entire monologue one or more times at later points during the episode. This is unnecessary and somewhat annoying, especially considering that these monologues are often irrelevant to the plot, and there is no real reason for them to appear aside from pure drama value (which is something RTD relies upon very frequently).

Finally, the last remaining problem is also the biggest in the entire miniseries, and that is the conclusion. I had to spend more than three hours discussing the final resolution of this miniseries down to the last detail, trying to discern exactly what RTD was trying to do. The root of this problem stems from the fact that there simply was not enough explanation of what the final solution was and how exactly it was implemented.

The reason RTD spent no time properly explaining the final resolution of the story is because of another inherent flaw in RTD’s writing style—the emotional impact factor. People can watch (and write) science fiction in two different mindsets: one mindset focuses your attention on the scientific backdrop that all stories are set against, while the other mindset allows you to ignore the science aspect for the sake of a good story. RTD is firmly entrenched in the latter camp, and it’s why I frequently have such huge problems with his writing. For RTD, the most important thing at the end of the day is to tell a compelling story and create a strong emotional impact. Because of that, the emotional impact is decided and written first, and the scientific explanations have to form around the emotional impact to make it all work. It’s less important for RTD to play by the rules than it is to tell a good story.

I am very strongly the opposite. Rules are everything. When you’re making a TV show, you can create a universe with whatever rules you want, as long as you live and die by those rules. If you’re playing in a universe where science is important (like science fiction—hence the name), then the science aspect damn well better make sense. I frankly don’t care how exciting or boring your story is, because that’s not the most important thing to me. What is important to me is that everything makes sense, everything is explained to a reasonable extent, your characters are true to their conception, and you follow your own rules. Only then is your story worth my time. RTD very frequently lets this slip by unchecked.

Only after three hours of discussion, speculation, thought, and analysis did I finally come to the conclusion that it is possible to rationalize the events of the episode and come up with an explanation that covers nearly all of the unanswered questions the episode leaves us with. However, there are two main problems: first, RTD has ultimately failed in his job as storyteller by forcing me to spend three hours just to be able to adequately understand the resolution of his episode, and second, there is no one clean solution that ties up all loose ends, answers all questions, and explains all plot elements. There is always something left unanswered, or not making sense.

The critical problem here is that every possible explanation that I came up with is extremely speculative, based on theories that I had to come up with on my own, and not based on anything that was explicitly stated in the episode, because the bottom line is that not enough information is given anywhere in the miniseries to adequately explain how all things were resolved. What follows is a set of questions left unanswered through all of RTD’s writings.

Question 1: Are the 456 themselves integrated at all times into the 456 wavelength along with all the children of Earth (and Clem)? Almost every explanation I have had to come up with has hinged on the answer to this question being yes, but this answer is completely speculative and never explicitly stated anywhere in the miniseries.

Question 2: What exactly was the kill signal designed to do—was it specifically engineered to only kill Clem, even though it would be heard by everyone on the wavelength, or was it simply a generic kill signal that would kill anything that received it, and it was sent specifically to Clem and to no one else on the 456 wavelength? Regardless of the answer to this question, there is always at least one significant plot hole in the final outcome.

If the signal were designed specifically to only kill Clem, then there are two problems. First problem: if this signal causes everyone receiving the 456 wavelength to scream, as it does in episode five, then why is this effect not shown when the signal kills Clem in episode four? If the children reacted in that way, there would have been media reaction, speculation, and news coverage, none of which was shown. The second, larger problem: how did Captain Jack reengineer that kill signal to affect only the 456 rather than Clem, who the signal was originally designed for?

If the signal were a generic kill signal that would kill everyone receiving it, then there are another set of two problems. The first problem: a signal such as this would require extremely specific targeting, so as to only kill the desired target, so how did Captain Jack send the signal only to the 456 and not kill everyone else receiving the 456 wavelength? The second problem: if the universal kill signal was only sent to the 456, then why did all the children react to receiving the signal by screaming?

Question 3: It is established that Jack used Steven to transmit his kill signal onto the 456 wavelength; how did Jack get the signal to Steven? It is fairly clear that the 456 transmit on their wavelength either by advanced technology, or by telepathy. Advanced technology is considerably less likely, because the ambassador sent to Earth clearly did not have any such technology with him, and yet appeared to be sending out the “3-2-5-0-0-0″ signal directly from his location on Earth. Even if it were technology, Jack would not have been in possession of the necessary technology to transmit that signal onto the wavelength. If it were telepathy, it is even less feasible that Jack would be able to deliver that signal onto the wavelength, because no one involved had any telepathic ability whatsoever. Supposing that the telepathic link were created purely by receiving on the 456 wavelength, it still does not make sense that Steven would have transmitted the kill signal, because that would imply that anything that any child hears while receiving on the 456 wavelength would then subsequently be transmitting that across the entire wavelength. If this were the case, it would have been very obviously evident, and would have had severe repercussions, meaning it clearly cannot be the case.

Question 4: Did the kill signal only affect the 456 ambassador, or did it also affect the 456 in orbit around Earth? If it only affected the 456 ambassador, then this blatant attack would likely have severely pissed off the 456 in orbit and caused them to put in place their pre-existing plans for wiping out the entire human population. If it also affected the 456 in orbit, then conceivably it might make sense that they would retreat, at least temporarily, but it would almost certainly guarantee that they would return to level the planet. Either way, at the end of the day, you’re still left with a whole army of angry 456 eager to take out their new human enemies. And if, for some ridiculous reason, that signal were designed to wipe out the entire 456 species, then how and why was the ambassador retrieved from Earth?

Question 5: If this kill signal was so effective against the 456 that it could ultimately defeat them, why would they take the immense risk of publicly sending that signal in the first place, handing it to the humans on a silver platter so that they would be able to reuse it later against them? The 456 were a lot more intelligent than that. It simply doesn’t make sense that this would be able to be a final solution, or even that this would have happened in the first place because such a signal should never have been used so carelessly. Consider this: the reason they killed Clem is because he was perceived as a potential threat. So what is their recourse when faced with a minor potential threat? Respond to it by using a signal that is far more dangerous to them than Clem could ever be.

Question 6: If, as assumed in question 1, the 456 exist in a state of sync with the 456 wavelength, why would they expose such a tremendous vulnerability (their telepathic frequency) by using it as their means of communication with Earth? They wouldn’t be stupid enough to expose themselves like this. There are much easier ways to communicate than by exposing such a critical vulnerability. It would have less dramatic impact, sure, but it would be just as effective and ultimately safer for them.

All in all, episode five failed to be what it should have been: a satisfying conclusion to an otherwise phenomenal story. With just a little bit more exposition, it could have been truly great. As it stands though, it really just lets down the third season of Torchwood with a disappointing finale. That said, however, the pieces were all there, and I strongly commend RTD for clearly trying very hard to put together something really special. Despite the major flaws and unanswered questions in episode five, I would still rate this among his best work.

Rating: 2 out of 5

Overall Rating: 3.8 out of 5

Thanks to Ian Stewart for his contributions to this review, and for being on the receiving end of my three-hour discussion about the finale.