Ouch. I just accidentally spoiled myself for Torchwood but good. And it kinda puts a thick black line through just about anything I was going to dribble about in today's post, and time's up on writing that anyway.
But so far, I've been enjoying the ride, very much so. It reminds me of 70s Pertwee era Dr Who, it reminds me of other stuff (old school Brit SF) I watched as a kid (but probably shouldn't have) , it tried to be Spooks (bless) and Mr Capaldi simply rocks as the somewhat frightening chap from the minister's office (we used to joke about sprinkling salt and clutching at garlic and crucifixes whenever one of those creatures was sighted on the floor, now you know why).
I was going to comment on how commendable it was, having Jack and Ianto out there (making other shows seem shrill and homophobic as they insist their boys are just good friends) though I just wasn't getting the chemistry I'd enjoyed previously. Nevertheless I laughed at the Guardian calling Ianto's rescue of Jack in the concrete block as his most impressive piece of butlering yet. Ah, well. And somebody please put the Guardian out of their misery re the pterodactyl. Me, I'm concerned about loose/roasted weevils out there, not to mention all those doodads they've collected over the centuries suddenly scattered to the four winds (ditto Jack's brother). I'm waiting for those nefarious knickknacks to pop up on the Antique Roadshow, with hilarity to ensue.
But that's just me (the Peanut Gallery is just as bad, fairly sure young Carter would have sent a few winos and skateboarders to kingdom come when he parked the bomb in that bit o'green, and how come all the windows in all the buildings didn't blow out like in real bombs), but I digress and it's just tv afterall but it does make you stop and go huh?
The 456 is nicely creepy in a Quatermass kinda way, though it looks like it had the chicken on the in flight meal. Worst case of the squirts I've seen in a long while (though I was much the same after sampling that Stinking Bishop cheese). Somebody hand him an immodium, and maybe he'll forget the kiddie meal.
All in all, I like. Kinda reminds me of classic Dr Who, ie the Dr Who I grew up with, which is no bad thing. It's kinda been all things Whovian on telly because Nick is playing the Sarah Jane Adventures, which I find superior to Who, mainly because the stories are genuinely creepy and again it reminds me of my Dr Who. I've a friend who has also seen it and feels the same, though he will then go off into a reverie over the Andy Pandy jumpsuit, so best leave it there. Both UKTV and the ABC have been trotting out Dr Who as well. It's like, mad.
I did get a Richard Armitage fix as UKTV slapped on North and South (ooh, smoulder, baby, smoulder) and Supernatural, was that the comic book one? It seems so long ago now. And does this mean Wincest is textually canon? I'm not sure, it ties my head n post-modern knots and it wasn't that good an episode anyway, and I always question shows that crap on the fans, especially while pushing the barrow of a very rubbish show ruining plot arc. But that's just me.
Maverick continues to delight, at least. Roger Moore was in one episode and last night there was Clint Eastwood being the very essence of Clintness, just leaning there, glaring from under his hat brim, cerating a zone of pure Clint cool in the fluff and bubble that is Maverick. So there is was, Rockford vs Callahan, and, because it was Maverick, Bret bested young Clint, but we never believed it for a minute. It's such a fun episode, mainly because Clint is being so classically Clint.
I mean, you know how some actors need to reach a certain age before they sort of get a presence? Not Clint. I meah, he was a cute lil puppy in Rawhide, but here he's just, well, he's Clint. And what can I say, you just see him, and, well. Sorry, you know I've got a thing for tall skinny bad boys.
Smoothy charmers less so, but j'adore Mr Moore. The Roger Moore one was a ripoff of The Importance of Being Earnest, which had so many switches my head hurt, but it was fun froth and bubble, though the idea that anyone could mistake Mr Moore for a Texan, well. He even attempted the accent, which left us covering our ears and begging him to stop because every time he opened his mouth a Texan died (then we realised what that would mean and decided he could carry on, imps that we are).
So yeah, still enjoying the old B/W telly far more than I should, and far more than modern offerings, though this week with Spooks and Torchwood it's a close run thing. Oh and the Invisibles sucks. I tried to like it but I loathe it. Enough with the middle class, middleaged witterings. It was fun to hear Tony refer to his character and Dalziel as being "two sides of the same coin". That bemused, though entirely unintentionally.
Otherwise? I ended up at the old Alma doing yet another course, trying to shore up the old CV. It was a good course and good to be reminded that I'm not an ignoranrt loon as my so-called colleagues insist, I just work to the house style I was taught (and I was gratified to see it is still so ingrained). It was hard work though but at least it was time away and a different bus route home (I pretended I was on holiday and marvelled at the different scenery, tragic wretch that I am).
Oh yeah, my holiday got ripped up for certain by evil manager who reckons I can only take my alloted rec leave if I provide a medical certificate (say what?) so I'm gonna have to post my ticket back to the theatre. Row C, too. I'm gutted.
Meanwhile, work is weird. Okay, this whole limbo non department thing is weird, so is the abscence of that woman what made my life hell. She really was a mean girl ring leader because since she's gone several of her cronies have actually deigned to talk to me again. I did my best to pull off polite and cheery (while all the way thinking "you backstabbing two faced bitch, you backstabbing two faced bitch, you backstabbing two faced bitch), which sounds a touch petty (even by my standards) but the actions they put in train via exclusion and belittling caused me, and will continue to cause me, a lot of pain and suffering (like no holidays), and I wish that woman had exited to something a little more,say, Dickensian, than being whisked off her feet by a Mr Darcy, holidayed in Crete and then off to a fabulous life in London. Apparently I must be really evil, to be stuck here, and, gawd, it's so high school, it's like high school never ended. I am in hell. But anyway, sans ring leader I'm actually talked to, not whispered and giggled about, which is something, I suppose.
Oh, the no sleep bit? Just trying to get onto a site with my crap connection.
Watch BBC1's autumn drama showreel
Time for Doctor Who fans to hide behind the sofa
Torchwood: Children Of Earth, Day One
Torchwood: Children of Earth: Day Two
Torchwood: Children of Earth: Day Three
Nottingham's Robin on set with Russell Crowe
Top 10 Ways to Provoke a Geek Argument
Mystery of the 700-year-old skull
Goldfinger borrowed plot from German spymaster
Mrs Slocombe's pussy rules on Twitter
Guitarist's anti-airline hit takes off
Ugly men make more sperm during sex, study suggests
The official site of the King Arthur Flour Company
Let's face it, the magic went out of Harry Potter many years ago