Torchwood, Children of Earth: Day 5

[rm]

One again, apologies for this, because I can't write this and not make it very personal, since I'm writing it through tears. Last night I at least waited until they had abated somewhat.

I don't find stories compelling if I don't see myself in them; they are not things that happen to other people, and it's this experience of the world that allows me to do what I do professionally and has also brought me pretty much every person I'm close to, as much as it has also estranged me from people I once would have been close to, my family among.

It's worth noting the last character I identified with, before Jack, was Severus Snape. And it's been strange, super fucking strange, being in this fandom and the whole Jack thing and finally getting to identify with someone who isn't just ugly, and odd. It's been so strange for me, a slight girl, at the end of the day. I learned how to be handsome here.

And it just feels strange, with the next Harry Potter movie coming out in a week, the one where Snape keeps saying he's not a coward, to have watched this just now. I feel broken-hearted and a little ashamed. But it feels right, too. Not just in terms of the story, but in terms of me.

But let's talk about the story, okay?

For me, really, this was like a long denoument, and after everyone freaking out on the Internet today, honestly I thought it was going to be even darker and worse than it was, and that is maybe a story I'll write for you at some point, because it's actually sort of amazing, and I have to assume the creative team floated it and pulled back to this.

I also have to assume that this was executed not with, as people continue to suggest (and please, don't do this around me for a little bit, I find it very hard), contempt for the fans, but perhaps contempt for the BBC. I can't help but suspect they were told that only ratings that were impossible to achieve would result in a renewal and so they set out to create something that would get those impossible ratings and then, in turn, be nearly impossible to renew. If this is the case, I salute you fuckers, it's mad, and I respect it.

Over all, I thought episodes 2 and 4 were the best -- both achieving 10s for me, while the others were about a seven or an eight. I was, throughout, moved by the staggering use of sound and silence and pauses, and everyone's performances were the best we've seen from them over the course of the series, and all the guest stars were amazing.

I thought, I could write a cogent review now, had a couple of paragraphs there without tears, but I feel so awful for Jack and so ashamed of him on Ianto's behalf, and I don't want the right decisions to look like that, ever. Honour and romance are such terrible things, maybe worse sometimes than pragmatism, because the agony is when you have to hold them up to the light against each other.

This was awful, guys. And really great. And I am so glad. So fucking glad I got to do this as part of actual, live canon, because the experience of it makes it so much better -- better than the sometimes ridiculous cracky shit (the children were DRUGS? REALLY?) or the stupid, petty heartbreaks (that stupid dinosaur).

Stories are very personal and very weird for me, and even in fandom, they're mostly something I always have to experience alone, except for sometimes with a very small handful of the very tolerant and very crazy people I'm closest too who love me anyway or, occasionally, because this is how I do the world. And it meant so much, no matter how pissed off any of you are about what Series 3 turned out to be that I didn't have to do that this time, be alone, that all of us can't believe how totally torn up we are about this.

It's really... it's nice. I think I'll have to try to be a critic tomorrow, though, because I can't even see the screen for crying.

Comments

[therealycats.livejournal.com]

I don't understand the thought processes of people who think that the creative teams of their fandoms are doing something to spite them. I recently read a string of comments on a House community that indicated that FOX was mocking House/Cuddy fans, and then when the season ended the way it did, that the writers were jerking them around (any more than any writers do in the interest of maintaining audience suspense, that is). I've read a lot of comments this week from people who seem to think there's some vendetta against the viewers on the writers' part. God forbid there be dramatic moments in a television drama. And how dare it be well-written. The audacity!

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

I remember that kind of paranoia from when Star Trek:The Next Generation was still in production, and I fail to even get where it comes from.
"Mommy and Daddy hate me!" means to me "I wanted a pony and all I got was a bicycle. I wanted to let it sleep in my room with me, and to feed it hamburgers."

[timelady.livejournal.com]

(I personally don't think this of the creative team behind Torchwood. I think they just wanted to give us a truely moving story) But I'm just saying that sometimes creative teams do actually listen to the hype and mail and then try to jerk the fans around. My example being Battlestar Galactica. They had introduced the character of Anders as purely a guest star for one episode. The character did some flirting with Starbuck. Apparently they were flooded by hate mail with fans screeching that they hated Anders and hated him getting in the way of the Apollo - Starbuck chemistry. So, they decided to ask him back to guest in another epsiode, and then another the following week, and then made him a regular and married to Starbuck. Seriously, they actually said that in one of the Battlestar specials that they did it because so many fans complained about him.

[therealycats.livejournal.com]

Er...well that's just weird.

[bravencrazy.livejournal.com]

I've never understood that, either. Even when a series does take a turn for the worse creatively, it's not done on purpose. Sometimes storylines simply don't work as well as the creative team thinks they will, and sometimes writers inadvertently write themselves into a corner that's difficult to get out of.