PREVIOUS

8TH JULY 2011 - 9TH SEPTEMBER 2011

(10 55-MINUTE EPISODES)

  1. THE NEW WORLD  2. RENDITION  3. DEAD OF NIGHT  4. ESCAPE TO LA     

5. THE CATEGORIES OF LIFE    6. THE MIDDLE MEN    7. IMMORTAL SINS

     8. END OF THE ROAD    9. THE GATHERING    10. THE BLOOD LINE

Following the success of 2009’s prime time mini-series, Children of Earth, it’s no surprise to see Torchwood take the next logical step and look to tell an even bigger story on an even bigger scale. What is surprising is that it’s taken this long.

Miracle Day is a co-production between the Welsh arm of BBC Worldwide and American premium network Starz. Presented as ten fifty-five minute episodes, the series’ Russell T Davies-masterminded narrative unfurls gradually each week, firmly drawing a line under the episodic format of the show’s first two seasons and embracing the popular season-long storytelling style championed by many contemporary American drama series and test-run in Children of Earth. That’s not to say that these ten episodes don’t have their own identities, however, because they do – Immortal Sins, for instance, mainly comprises a relatively quiet – but superlatively important – companion chronicle from Jack’s past, whereas Escape to LA sees the team lock horns with a politician who zealously preaches “dead is dead.” These contributory subplots are usually played out fully within each hour, the episode’s cliffhangers borne of emphatic revelations and shocking events, not Who-style false jeopardy.

Despite being co-produced by Starz, Davies and company were keen to stress that The New World, as it was originally titled, would not be a reboot of the series but a continuation of it, Murray Gold soundtrack and all. Even so, however, a number of British viewers were apprehensive about the likely “Americanisation” of the show; myself amongst them. Since its beginning, Torchwood has always been vitally Welsh, lending it a certain charisma that I think accounts for half of its appeal. With the action now shifting to the States, like many I feared that this would result in a more anodyne product, particularly with the majority of the filming taking place in California and only a couple of weeks’ shooting being pencilled in for the Valleys. Thankfully the Davies-penned season opener put paid to many of my fears, boasting segments as flagrantly Welsh as any preceding season, and whilst such cutaways would diminish over the course of the run, one crucial constant would remain: Gwen Cooper. If anything, taking her out of her native land has only served to emphasise her nationality, and thus Torchwood’s.

One thing that I had no concerns about though was Miracle Day’s ambitious, near-ten hour narrative. Children of Earth showed us just how devastatingly brilliant Torchwood could be when let off its “monster of the week” reigns, and Miracle Day promised an even broader canvas for Davies and his team to paint upon. Of course, for it to work, Miracle Day’s hook had to be something not only staggering but global, and with death itself brought to a dramatic halt, it’s certainly that. This suspension of death is also a premise that instantly appeals to the show’s established audience, as in a delectable reversal Captain Jack suddenly finds himself not only mortal after centuries of life, but alone in that state. As the charred remnants of a suicide bomber stare up at him from the mortuary slab, an eternity of agony stretching out ahead, Jack hears the seconds of his mortal existence ticking away, and  he resolves to make the most of them. Those who’ve enjoyed sensational Starz dramas such as Spartacus: Blood and Sand may not blink at Miracle Day’s graphic horrors or illicit sexual content, but I suspect that more than a few fusty BBC viewers may be taken aback at some of the story’s braver scenes (heartbreaking immolation, clinically-severed brain stems and homosexual coitus amongst them).

I can’t see why the series’ title was changed from “The New World” to “Miracle Day” though; the eponymous twenty-four hours happen fast, the preponderance of the narrative focusing not on the events of the day itself but their traumatic upshot. Davies and company have really thought through the many consequences of suspending death, limiting the titular Miracle to humanity so as to prevent the planet being overrun by insects within weeks, for instance, and milking all the secondary issues such as overpopulation and pain management for all their fierce, pseudo-political drama. Most of the series’ episodes balance the key players’ knife-edge manoeuvrings against some explosive, and presumably big-budget, 24-style action, with hard-ass CIA Agent Rex Matheson (could he sound any more American…?) assuming the Bauer-esque mantle of forced-out maverick trying to save the day.

Mekhi Phifer gives a properly powerful performance as Rex - he’s tough and cold but with just enough vulnerability to make effective protagonist; particularly so after The Categories of Life’s harrowing dénouement. Unfortunately his instinctive alpha-male sensibilities don’t bring out the best in Jack, however, as John Barrowman’s character purposely camps it up even more than he ever has done before simply to get a rise out of his new straight-laced colleague. There’s little to be seen of the suave libertine that we first met in The Empty Child here; instead we have a proud gay man that, were it not for his wicked sense of humour (“Take good care of boyfriend,” he tells Rex’s ambulance driver, “I love him so much”) would bear little semblance to the omni-sexual conman of old. Even Jack’s defining love for Gwen is portrayed asexually, with Jack’s feelings presented in a similar way to how the Doctor’s were for Rose in Doctor Who, instead of the more overt, physical way that they once were.

Eve Myles’ Gwen fares much better though. Since the events of Children of Earth, she and Rhys (Kai Owen) have been living underground with their daughter, Anwen, and the boredom and seclusion are clearly driving her to distraction. Accordingly when “the Blessing” arrives, Gwen resumes to her former existence with almost negligent relish, ignorant of the personal horrors that it would bring to her family’s doorstep. As the story progresses and Gwen’s fight becomes a very intimate one on all fronts, Myles truly surpasses herself with a performance that borders on terrifying. This is a woman that no-one should ever mess with – not the Government, not their lackeys, and certainly not Captain Jack Harkness.

Ambivalent analyst Esther Drummond then makes for a quorum. Probably best described as somewhere between Toshiko Sato and 24’s Chloe, Alexa Havins’ character is ostensibly the least interesting of the member of the new Torchwood team, but she does provide the viewer with an all-important “ordinary Jane” to identify with. Trust  Russell T Davies to take the time to broach domestic issues such as suitable parenting and well-intentioned whistle-blowing in a story about the suspension of human death.

Furthermore, as was the case with Children of Earth, Miracle Day’s regular cast goes far beyond the Torchwood troupe. Movie star Bill Pullman tops the bill as Oswald Danes, a child killer who uses his failed execution as a means to gain celebrity and influence. A tortured, inscrutable fellow, Danes flits between bouts of self-loathing and daunting, almost-Hitler like oratory, garnering the support of many of those who once called for his death as he pushes the sinister pharmaceutical company PhiCorp’s agenda. Pullman’s performance is by turns alluring and repellent, at times rivalling the five star turn of benchmark-setter Peter Capaldi in Children of Earth.

By Danes’ side for most of the series is the glossy Jilly Kitzinger (Lauren Abrose), a publicist on the payroll of PhiCorp who has a knack of being in the right place at the right time - and with the right people. Like Danes, the viewer is never quite sure what Kitzinger’s motives are – Abrose’s performance is such that she may be little more than a shamelessly covetous career woman, or something else entirely. Marc Vann’s despicable Colin Maloney is far easier to read, but no less compelling for it as in a flash of red, the patronising, pen-pushing ‘Overflow Camp’ commandant single-handedly resurrects murder. It’s a skin-crawling turn.

For me though, the standout performer is Arlene Tur, who plays fervent humanitarian and Rex’s part-time paramour Dr Vera Juarez. Vera is instantly more likeable than either Rex or Esther, gallantly fighting for pain relief for her sick (and in some instances, decomposing) patients and against the politcally-expedient categorisation of life states without any regard for herself. Of all Miracle Day’s stories, Vera’s is certainly the most moving – and probably the most distressing.

At the time of writing, End of the Road, The Gathering and The Blood Line have yet to air, and so I have no idea how this multifarious masterwork will ultimately play out. However, if it continues to enthral and to horrify with the same gusto as the first eight episodes did, then Miracle Day might prove to be Torchwood’s finest hour yet. Whether it’s set in cosmopolitan Cardiff, the US of A or the doldrums of Doncaster, intelligent and addictive season-long storylines are without a doubt the way forward for this thrilling series, which is now proving to be every bit as pliable as the half-century old show that spawned it. It’s long been said that as long as you have the Doctor and the TARDIS, then you’ve got Doctor Who. Well, as long as you have Jack and Gwen, then you’ve got Torchwood – and here’s hoping we have them both for a long time yet.

Copyright © E.G. Wolverson 2011

E.G. Wolverson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

Unless otherwise stated, all images on this site are copyrighted to the BBC and are used solely for promotional purposes.

‘Torchwood’ is copyright © by the BBC. No copyright infringement is intended.