Torchwood: Miracle Day - The New World

Writer: Russell T Davies
Director: Bharat Nalluri

Two years after the miniseries format of Children of Earth, designed to conclude the events of the previous two series with a bang, Torchwood finally returns with a new start. This proper full-length story effectively resets the Torchwood Institute, with new characters and new locations, in a joint UK and US production. Most interesting perhaps is that Doctor Who series reviver Russell T Davies has now become a full-timer on the show, no longer distracted by that meddling Time Lord.

A mysterious email is sent to members of the intelligence agencies in the US, bypassing the standard security protocols by simply mentioning the name “Torchwood”.  The same day, no one dies. People get sick, but they don’t die. The next day, no one dies. The next day, and the next day, no one dies. After the disbandment of the Torchwood Institute, surviving member Gwen (Eve Myles) has retreated with husband Rhys (Kai Owen) to raise their child in the arse end of nowhere, suspicious of any and all travellers who appear on their doorstep. Alerted by the activity, Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) appears in the US and attempts to erase any and all mention of Torchwood to protect the only remaining member. CIA agent Esther Drummond (Alexa Havins) however discovers the identity of Gwen Cooper, and sends her boss, agent Rex Mathison (Mekhi Phifer) to Wales to interrogate her.

The real questions on people’s minds are: Can the show survive Americanisation? How could Torchwood possibly remain interesting without the gay smoochy smoochy times? On paper it can. Although no homosexual action so far, with an interesting presence full of potential, and the idea of hopping between continents in a worldwide mystery that not even Doctor Who has managed, it seems fool proof. In execution however, it is sadly quite bad. It’s nowhere near the depths of alien whale meat harvesting or evil fairies, but it’s still quite bad. Even excusing the numerous Wales jokes (because Americans don’t know what whales is) Davies’ script is particularly heavy-handed and dumbed down, and Nalluri’s direction lacks zazz. The scenes with Gwen and Rhys playing fugitive especially take way too long to get to wear they’re going, making sure to remind the new American audience of the events of the previous three series, through extended scenes of exposition. And then there is a scene in which Captain Jack Harkness remembers his previous lover, and thus is sad. You’d think that after The End of Time Davies would be good at writing tear-jerkers, but no, it’s just too deliberate. The green ooze flowing into Oswald Danes’ arm, Bill Pullman’s convicted paedophile is similarly just too blatant. Green = poison. Poison = death. Do you get it yet?

The cinematography also has some stupefied moments. Starting on a wide shot of the Raiders-inspired document library kills any and all sense of endlessness and futility in searching by defining the space. After this stage, no matter how many times you re-dress the same set, you’ve still lost the illusion.

The joint production between the UK and America promised a big budget. Clearly that was spent on the multiple plane tickets between continents, forgetting about one of the most important elements of Science Fiction: the visual effects. These effects are terrible even for Torchwood standards. Initially I considered that they might just appear terrible, because previous efforts have been much greater in terms of spectacle, for instance Abaddon, a giant menacing demon stalking over Cardiff (End of Days). But no. The 3D models of the flying rockets and the broken helicopter are really quite lacking, perhaps more so than the flames coming out of them. Similarly, being able to see the mask lines around the eyes of the destructed “corpse” is such an anti-climax. Suspension of disbelief: suspended.

Hopefully this was just a shaky start, and the series will find its footing soon. The potential of the concept is certainly very high, especially the philosophical debates inevitably generated by the released paedophile escaping execution when the rules of the game are changed. It deserves the benefit of the doubt until at least a few more episodes into it.

2 / 5

The Tree of Life (2011)

Writer and Director: Terrence Malick

Few films are truly ambitious enough to go down a path never before tread, and create something truly unique, and dare-I-say it, perfect. The Tree of Life is one such film. Auteur Terrence Malick is known for his experimental and artistic works, attempting to create works of art that challenge mainstream cinema conventions. Here he has managed to do this. Never have I seen a more polarised audience. In the moderately full cinema, no less than nine people stormed out in the first half hour (“pretentious wank!”). Of those that stayed, about the same amount had their minds blown. The nervous laughter as the end credits finally appeared onscreen signified the visceral and spiritually confrontational onslaught we had just experienced.

The film inevitably draws comparisons with Kubrick’s masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey, and the visual methamphetamine Baracka. But these links are tenuous at best. The films are entirely different execution. Sure they share the extended visual montage, but their reasons are entirely different.  The fragmented and non-linear narrative in The Tree of Life convey vast leaps in human evolution and the history of the universe, compared to the non-narrative montage of Baracka. The notorious “trip” sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey represents a character’s journey through the infinite cosmos, his mind effectively blown by ascended technology, whereas the sequences in The Tree of Life represent the birth of life and the universe. The comparisons are only there because these films transcend definition, and there is nothing else to compare them to.

The non-linear narrative stretches from the creation of the universe, to the beginnings of life on earth (yes, it even has dinosaurs), to the reproduction of human cells, to us: humanity as we are here and now. Revealed throughout is the development of a 1950’s American family. Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien’s three sons are desperate to grow up and discover who they are. Mrs. O’Brien (Jessica Chastain) loves, cares for, and understands her children. Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt) attempts to raise them how he was raised, bestowing on them ideals that he thinks are right. His disciplines appear harsh. Their eldest son Jack (Hunter McCracken) begins to resent his father’s teachings, as any boy would do. Interspersed with these scenes is an older, 50-something Jack (portrayed by a grumpy-faced Sean Penn), as he works in a nondescript office, and goes about his mundane life.

The scenes of the American family are punishingly tense, Malick carefully building the balance of tension as high as it could possibly go. Jack’s distaste against his father grows inch by inch until his life is consumed by it. The awkward dialogue at the dinner table plays like a ticking time bomb before the theatre finally explodes in bursts of high drama. These scenes are difficult to watch due of their confrontational nature. The perfect execution of the carefully moulded build-up all the way to the dramatic climaxes shows a master director at work, striving to construct his Magnum Opus. These scenes would have been tough on the actors, especially the children, but the resulting performances wrung out of them are astounding. When Jack’s father finally goes too far and leaves the family because of it, Jack’s sudden freedoms result in his rebellious nature overflowing, untapped and unrestrained. Hunter McCracken outacts veteran Sean Penn (though to be fair, Penn wasn’t given much to work with).

Extended montages link the fragmented story together. The camera captures the exquisite beauty of the universe. In one moment it will show the world around us through experimental angles: shadows on the road, a field of flowers, waves of the desert, complex organisms dancing through the currents in the ocean; the next will feature flawlessly composed visual effects: cells dividing, the universe sparking into life. These montages, although occasionally punishingly long, give a much deeper and universal feel to the film. Humanity is part of a beautiful ecosystem.

The obvious religious connotations of children betraying their creators, choosing a separate path from Father God and Mother Nature heavily influences the narrative structure. At first they are used subtly, according to one’s interpretation, as a guide to explore our protagonist’s lives. Towards the end of the film the metaphors become gradually blunter, ending with literal interpretations of progressing into the afterlife.

This film is near perfect. Not as entertainment (it’s a very difficult watch), but as a work of art that challenges, influences and inspires the viewer, something that very few films are able to do nowadays.

5 / 5