Torchwood: Series 1 (DVD)

Like Angel was to Buffy, Torchwood is the darker, moodier, more maturely-themed brother to Doctor Who. But does its sacrifice of well-plotted storytelling for sexual boundary pushing make for a wholly-enjoyable viewing experience?

Rating: 8 out of 10.

In 2005, Russel T. Davies relaunched the Doctor Who franchise to massive popularity and success. Its updated style and new cast of characters (especially Christopher Eccleston as the ninth incarnation of The Doctor and Billie Piper as his feisty companion, Rose) made it the Must See hour of sci-fi/fantasy programming on both sides of the Atlantic. So strong was the new Doctor's presence on the television landscape that it became almost inevitable that a spin-off would have to be made. But who would star? The most likely (and ultimately successful) candidate came in the form of Captain Jack Harkness (played by John Barrowman), who turned up halfway through the first series of the new Who as a charming, sexually ambiguous conman. And so Torchwood (an anagram of its parent series' title) was created as the vehicle for Barrowman's cheeky and beloved Harkness. The second series of Doctor Who aired, sewing the Torchwood name into its fabric, therefore making the Torcwhood Institution a familiar brand by the time the spin-off hit the waves.

The premise is as follows: Torchwood is a multi-branch institution dedicated to investigating alien life, like a sort of paranormal CSI. The series focuses on the Cardiff branch, headed by Captain Jack Harkness. Gwen Cooper (played by Eve Myles), a police officer living complacently with her boyfriend, finds herself involved with Torchwood through a series of extra-terrestrial and human-caused events. By the end of the pilot, she joins the team, hoping that her help-the-people approach will alter the some of Torchwood's more narrow-minded tactics.

Like most Crime Fighting Teams assembled for the viewing pleasure of broad audiences, the group can be broken down into well-oiled (and known) parts: The dark, mysterous leader (Captain Jack); the New Girl who offers the most accessible perspective for the audience (Gwen); the Insecure Computer Geek With Glasses (Dr. Toshiko Sato, played by Naoko Mori); the Tortured Bastard with a talent for snappy retorts (Dr. Owen Harper, played by Burn Gorman); and the Shy Guy who operates mostly in the background until some large plot event makes him (and everyone else) realize that he really is an integral part of the team (Ianto Jones, played by the adorable Gareth David-Lloyd).

In this way (and in a few others), Torchwood struggles to break free of conventional storytelling and suffers as a consequence. But while it concedes innovation in its storytelling, it refuses to play by the rules in its handling of its characters sexualities. By the end of the series, every Torchwood member will have engaged in or alluded to sexual events with members of both sexes. So extreme is the show's boundary breaking that it sometimes seems like the writers are selling their audience a sex circus in place of a plot. But is this the sex that sells? Certainly not in America, where every character is assigned a sexual label to wear blatantly and (perhaps) not-so-proudly. We're used to the straights staying straight, the gays staying gay, and anything that falls in between is most likely a drunk girl fighting for attention on an MTV dating show. Torchwood deals with fluid sexuality in a thrilling way, which is to say that it doesn't deal with it all. Aside from a few quips here and there, the characters live their sexual experiences without pomp and fuss. They make no attempt to explain "alternative" behavior ; it's just sex, and it is understood by all to be just that. In this way, if in no other, Torchwood breaks a bit of new ground and it will surely continue to be a hot topic in queer circles for its progressive sexual practices.

But chances are that a Queer Theory 101 class doesn't make up the entirety of Torchwood's audience, and it would be insincere to say that the interesting sexual dynamics of the show completely make up for the direction and purpose that sometimes seems to be lacking.

Overall, Torchwood favors the style of storytelling which requires the conflict to be solved by the end of the hour, utilizing serial elements only rarely. The two-part finale is the biggest exception, and is also the best of the series. "Captain Jack Harkness," the first of the two parts, finds Captain Jack and Toshiko trapped back in the 1940s. It is here that Captain Jack encounters a man called--wait for it--Captain Jack Harkness! We learn that our Captain Jack had, in his conman days, stolen the real Captain Jack's identity after he dies in the war. And, this show being as obsessed with sex as it is, it is of course the natural progression of things that Captain Jack falls in love with Captain Jack: Romance at its finest and most vain. The second part of the finale deals with the consequences of the Torchwood team breaking the rules to find a way to bring Captain Jack and Toshiko back, and the ending of the episode acts as a bridge to the final 3 episodes of the third series of Doctor Who, in which John Barrowman guest stars. There are also several strong stand-alone episodes, including "Cyberwoman," in which Ianto is discovered to be hiding a half-finished Cyberwoman in the basement of Torchwood. It is one of the few episodes that borrows from the mythology of Doctor Who and is, in this reviewer's opinion, much stronger because of it. "Random Shoes," following the story of an invisible boy solving his own death alongside Gwen, is another highlight, as is "Out of Time," which features a story about a plane from the 1950s landing in the present day.

When all is said and done, Torchwood offers up a heaping plate of well-rounded entertainment: Action, sex (and more sex), fantasy, adventure, and mystery. On paper, it appears almost perfect (from, at least, a marketing standpoint). Still, it lacks some of the energy and life that its parent program thrives on. What ultimately matters, though, is that Torcwhood lives up to its potential, which it has a lot of. And until it gets there, it's fun enough that one can sit back and enjoy the riding...er, the ride.

Goldfrapp - Seventh Tree

Goldfrapp - Seventh Tree (February 26th, 2008)

Rating: 8.7 out of 10 trees

The popular trend in reviewing Goldfrapp’s fourth record, Seventh Tree, involves spending a good deal of time stating what is likely obvious even to the completely deaf: Seventh Tree is not Supernature Redux. If the warm, hazy cover (which features Alison-- the duo’s namesake, vocalist, and most recognizable face--in a pirate hat and white tunic) doesn’t clue the purchaser in, everyone should be caught up by the time the final notes of the lush, orchestral opener, “Clowns,” have sounded.

Though it is perhaps not quite as obvious, Seventh Tree is also not—as many reviews have declared—simply a return to the band’s debut album, the dreamy, cinematic, and sometimes cold Felt Mountain. Though the two albums may share, at times, a preference for down-tempo songs and an arty difficulty, Seventh Tree is a more accessible project that finds its beauty in organic instrumentation (Seventh Tree marks the first-ever appearance of an acoustic guitar on a Goldfrapp album!) and a more straightforward approach to lyrical craft.

The words “folk” and “psychedelic” have been thrown around (sometimes by the band members themselves) to describe the inspiration for Seventh Tree, and though there are references to these genres, a 60s folk record this is not. What Seventh Tree has in common with a Nick Drake album is the presence of an acoustic guitar (“Clowns,” “A&E” etc.) and not much else. It shares more with the warmth and nostalgia of The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society, but even that offers only a shallow comparison. Goldfrapp, with one finger marking the page of past influences, offer up an entirely modern and personal record that looks forward as much as it looks back.

Opener “Clowns” is a slow but striking track, featuring a nearly indistinguishable, Kate Bush-channeling lyrical contribution from Alison. A glance at the lyrics may initially prove shocking, as the song appears to be about, well, breasts. Well, not just breasts, really, but a voyeuristic culture’s obsession with them and with “car crash television,” in which the physical and emotional disfigurements of “real” people serve as entertainment and comic relief for those who just can’t look away. And herein lays the beauty of “Clowns”: The almost humorous lyrical content paired against the subtle and undeniably gorgeous music.

The following track, “Little Bird,” is the only track that earns a description of “psychedelic.” It tells the tail of a crow with “two mouths for eyes” who visits a woman and lends her his wings so that she may fly away. The climax of the song is a kaleidoscopic trip that kicks out from the speakers with an unexpected force, one of the few moments on the album where a song’s energy is directly related to the loudness of the music.

Second single “Happiness” is a tongue-in-cheek send up of the cultish quest for satisfaction set to a glorious march, again illustrating the band’s fondness for pairing coy poetry with rich, interesting sounds.

“Eat Yourself,” a standout track, evokes a warm, crackling image of an era long past. Like “Clowns,” parts of the lyrics are incredibly difficult to understand, though brief lines break from obscurity: “Silver jet in the sky,” “You went south on the train / she wore plastic boots for rain.” A closer look at the lyrics reveals a darker tone and a possible theme of self-destruction, which makes the song even more potent and striking.

“Cologne Cerrone Houdini” and “Monster Love” are the last two great tracks on Seventh Tree, the former an airy, Serge Gainsbourg-refrencing romp that wouldn’t feel totally out of place on Felt Mountain, and the latter a perfect closing track, which features a chorus of “This is where we start and where we end.” So effective is “Monster Love” as a closer that it could also—God forbid—serve to punctuate Goldfrapp’s entire discography. As baseless and terrifying as that thought is, the band couldn’t choose a more beautiful platform from which to wave goodbye.

Unfortunately, the band’s fondness for beautiful sounds weakens Seventh Tree almost as much as it empowers it. The pretty but bland “Road to Somewhere” and “A&E” feel ripe for playing in the background of an especially emotional Grey’s Anatomy episode, where no one is going to pay much attention but will still think “Oh, hey, that’s kind of nice, that song.” “Some People” features a stellar lyrical element, though its music—orchestral swells and all--doesn’t capture the intensity or the uniqueness that “Clowns” and “Eat Yourself” offer. “Caravan Girl,” the penultimate track, is by far the cheeriest and most accessible ditty of the collection. So clean and poppy is the song, it is practically an anomaly when compared to the rest of Seventh Tree.

At best, Seventh Tree holds its own against Goldfrapp’s most beloved work (Felt Mountain and parts of Black Cherry); at worst, it is weakened—if only slightly—by inconsistency and a tendency toward slickness. What remains exciting, however, is that Goldfrapp still show signs of great creativity and an ability to reinvent themselves and their sound. Seventh Tree fits perfectly into the Goldfrapp oeuvre in that it doesn’t really seem to fit in at all. As long as Goldfrapp are unhappy repeating themselves, it’s almost certainly a safe bet to assume that their fans will always remain happy. Either that, or we all join a cult.

Blurgh

I doubt anyone is even reading this thing, so this is more for me. A "published" reminder to GET THINGS DONE!

I have, half-completed, reviews for the following things:

Goldfrapp - Seventh Tree (I just can't get this one right)
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (the closest to being finished)
Duffy - Rockferry
The Book of Other People edited by Zadie Smith
Torchwood Series 1 (DVD)

I hope to get at least 1 or two up within the week. But, you know, my motivation comes in waves and spurts.

Vantage Point (2008)

Vantage Point

Written by Barry Levy

Directed by Pete Travis

Score: 4 out of 10 vantage points.

Vantage Point is not the sort of movie one walks into expecting to find art or intelligent commentary on the greater problems of the world. It is, after all, an action flick, and it is clearly billed as such. And so it is only fair that one does not judge a film like Vantage Point against more hearty fare, movies with messages and agendas. The only question one needs to ask oneself while shuffling, blinky-eyed, into the bright theater lobby is: Was it worth the price of popcorn? The answer: Only barely. 'Cuz I was hungry.

The premise (or “gimmick,” if you like) is this: A terrorist plot to assassinate the President of the United States (or POTUS, as they refer to him in the movie [someone’s been watching their West Wing!]) during a summit in Spain is shown to the audience in 6 separate chunks, each one the perspective of a different character. At the “end” of each character’s story, the film rewinds (literally) and starts anew from the vantage point (hey! That’s the name of the movie!) of someone else. With each new segment, a new piece of the puzzle is revealed, until, of course, all of the pieces have been laid out, the puzzle solved.

The concept is clear enough, and even potentially interesting, but it becomes a problem in the final act when the filmmakers apparently tire of the format and abandon, without cue or warning, the perspective-based structure that has been the core of the film in favor of a traditional linear narrative. From the perspective of no one in particular, the final twists and revelations are revealed in a typical and anticlimactic fashion: We’re handed a predictable betrayal, a car chase that tops nothing done in any of the Bourne films, and a completely underdeveloped and vague motive that leaves the audience asking “Why?” Or, in my case, “Why, oh WHY?!”

The filmmakers’ laziness, unfortunately, is not confined to the last third of the film. From start to finish, the dialogue is empty, non-specific, and almost always bordering on silly. And despite attempts to round out the characters (Dennis Quaid's Secret Service agent's backstory of taking a bullet for the president, for example), everyone in the film seems to be missing at least two dimensions. The best example of this is Forrest Whittaker’s character, a tourist with a heart three sizes too big and a magic video camera that picks up on details so small that even trained Secret Service agents are no match for its astuteness. If this weren’t absurd enough, he later becomes a superhero in ordinary clothes, involving himself in the action to a point that is both unbelievable and frustrating.

Passing for a cohesive story is a string of minutely interesting details that attempt to connect each of the different perspectives. It is because of this that Vantage Point feels a giant Easter Egg made especially for the daft. All of the small, rewind-worthy connections that make television shows like LOST rich and exciting are here made blatant and simple, underlined 3 times and highlighted in bright pink so that even those half asleep won’t miss a single thing. This heavy-handedness insults the audience’s intelligence (forgive that moment of optimism) and completely drains the movie of any potential re-watch value it may have had were it more subtle.

But, then again, maybe it’s just me. After the film, in the restroom, two young men described the film as “weird” and “interesting,” two words I’d never have thought to use in describing a film so obvious and calculated. I guess it was just a better movie from wherever they were sitting.

"A critic is a bundle of biases held loosely together by a sense of taste." -- Whitney Balliett

Music. Movies. Literature.

I like to talk about these things, and so here I shall. I invite you to to talk back.

It goes without saying that what I write here is only my own opinion and should therefore hold only as much influence as is appropriate for such a thing.

Basically, what I mean to say, is that you should regard my thoughts as the most authoritative and definitive on all respective subjects. Everyone else is wrong unless I say otherwise.

I may also, if generosity blesses me, post downloads (shh!) so that you, too, can enjoy the things that I enjoy.

First up (probably): A review of Goldfrapp's latest. Bring on the mahogany titties!