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avevale_intelligencerOkay, now that the tumult and the shouting has died down a bit I'm starting to see people saying how good this Torchwood was.
And that's fine. Really, if you enjoyed it and thought it was good, more power to you. Skip merrily on and ignore me for a moment, because I'm going to go into some details
Here's a storyline.
"Once upon a time there was a big rock going to crash into the earth and everybody was going to die and there was nothing anybody could do and it was all really really sad and then somebody found an even bigger rock and threw it at the big rock and the big rock went away. The End."
This is the kind of story I wrote at the age of seven. Well, actually, I think I was a bit more capable than that even then. This is the kind of story Russell T Davies writes *all the time*. I can't swear to it that he starts writing with no idea how he's going to finish (he's said as much, but then he lies all the time as well), but that's certainly how it feels when he pulls another stupid rabbit out of his stupid hat at the last minute. And while, for a dilettante like myself or a natural genius like the Countess, this is perfectly okay, for a writer who is being paid to entertain millions it is lazy and it is sloppy and it is unprofessional.
If you plan your story, then you know what your antagonist's fatal weakness is going to be from the outset and you drop clues. They don't have to be immediately understandable--one of the best feelings in the world is looking back on a story and seeing how all the pieces fit into place and show the way forward from where you are--but they have to be there. It's called playing fair with the audience and it's a mark of respect.
We knew very little about the 456. We knew that they could transmit through children, but not how or why. There was never at any point, till halfway through the last episode, any suggestion that it might be possible to send a signal the other way, let alone how or why. It would, I would think, have necessitated the 456's equipment or whatever being set up for receiving as well as transmitting, and why would they bother to do that? How would the government, or Torchwood, know that they possessed any technology that could achieve it, let alone have it all together in one place and in working order at the right time and in the right place?
Plotting: zero out of ten.
Add to this the fact that the gratuitous emotional manipulation to an insanely excessive degree was present in full force, that the final two episodes were so completely opposed to fun that at the moment they were broadcast an equal amount of fun spontaneously annihilated itself, and that he pressed the damn stupid reset button at the end despite the fact that he had just made it excruciatingly clear that no way was western civilisation coming out the other end of this whole...
...and I can't help wondering what the people who think this Torchwood was good, who talk about "compelling writing" and "coherent plotting" and "he actually pulled it off this time"...what they were actually watching.
But whatever it was, I'm glad they enjoyed it.
And that's fine. Really, if you enjoyed it and thought it was good, more power to you. Skip merrily on and ignore me for a moment, because I'm going to go into some details
Here's a storyline.
"Once upon a time there was a big rock going to crash into the earth and everybody was going to die and there was nothing anybody could do and it was all really really sad and then somebody found an even bigger rock and threw it at the big rock and the big rock went away. The End."
This is the kind of story I wrote at the age of seven. Well, actually, I think I was a bit more capable than that even then. This is the kind of story Russell T Davies writes *all the time*. I can't swear to it that he starts writing with no idea how he's going to finish (he's said as much, but then he lies all the time as well), but that's certainly how it feels when he pulls another stupid rabbit out of his stupid hat at the last minute. And while, for a dilettante like myself or a natural genius like the Countess, this is perfectly okay, for a writer who is being paid to entertain millions it is lazy and it is sloppy and it is unprofessional.
If you plan your story, then you know what your antagonist's fatal weakness is going to be from the outset and you drop clues. They don't have to be immediately understandable--one of the best feelings in the world is looking back on a story and seeing how all the pieces fit into place and show the way forward from where you are--but they have to be there. It's called playing fair with the audience and it's a mark of respect.
We knew very little about the 456. We knew that they could transmit through children, but not how or why. There was never at any point, till halfway through the last episode, any suggestion that it might be possible to send a signal the other way, let alone how or why. It would, I would think, have necessitated the 456's equipment or whatever being set up for receiving as well as transmitting, and why would they bother to do that? How would the government, or Torchwood, know that they possessed any technology that could achieve it, let alone have it all together in one place and in working order at the right time and in the right place?
Plotting: zero out of ten.
Add to this the fact that the gratuitous emotional manipulation to an insanely excessive degree was present in full force, that the final two episodes were so completely opposed to fun that at the moment they were broadcast an equal amount of fun spontaneously annihilated itself, and that he pressed the damn stupid reset button at the end despite the fact that he had just made it excruciatingly clear that no way was western civilisation coming out the other end of this whole...
...and I can't help wondering what the people who think this Torchwood was good, who talk about "compelling writing" and "coherent plotting" and "he actually pulled it off this time"...what they were actually watching.
But whatever it was, I'm glad they enjoyed it.
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Date: 2009-07-12 03:01 pm (UTC)In the chicken and egg Universe... do I have a Masters in Film & Media because I get immense stimulation from visual storytelling... or is that because I get immense stimulation from visual storytelling that I have...
In moving image, in fan terms, I've always been able to forgive plot and character problems, if the pace and visual storytelling carries me past it. It means I've genuinely got real enjoyment out of stuff I know is pants. But it's pants on its own measure, if that makes sense. The bits in it that I respond to, are internally consistent. So I can ignore the lesser bits, and still declare it satisfying... and within it's own terms, 'good'. In current jargon, I like 'high concept' moving image. Where the 'event' of the pace, effects and emotional manipulation takes over. Plot takes over from narrative, action takes over from character development, etc. Very much Davies. You forgive the 'other' skills in writing, the cause and effect relationship, the character interaction and growth, the slow and steady working into a new scenario building to chance and growth.. in order to have a lot more bang for your buck.
I have done this, as you know, with a lot of the new Who stuff.
However. As you point out above, he completely stuffed the writing, and the audience. He broke the terms of the agreement. So there is no forgiving of the problems.
And with RTD, once you let in one plot and character and narrative problem, the entire house of cards fall. So it's ash in seconds.
Technically, he is a gifted writer and visual storyteller. The ones who liked it, are still responding to the over all "grab and take you with it" I'd suggest.
What I think is interesting, is that in terms of what makes a writer "great" is more than their technical expertise. It's their soul. It's their expression of meaning. Fantastic writers are people who are technically proficient AND have soul. We all know writers who have great soul, but can't write worth a damn. You forgive it, as the story which illuminates the soul bit, keeps you going. Great storytellers, not that good as writers.
Rarer, is it really good technical writing, and not much soul. Davies can be a superb technical writer in visual storytelling... grabs you by the throat and keeps you going past the epic structural problems.
However, this time, the lack of soul was just so blatant. And really, he broke his own technical prowess. He constructed one story... and delivered another, in the final moments. Shoddy shoddy work.
And the people who are really seeing it.. are writers. The ones who understand the craft. We're looking at the skeleton and bones, and others are still seeing the flesh and costume.
A lot of people I know feel betrayed by it, but they don't know _why_. They understand they have been taken for a ride and the _should_ feel elated... but they don't, they feel sick. Watching a child being shaken to death makes then feel sick. But they know it 'had to happen'. But emotionally, in their soul, they understand it was 'wrong'. And there is conflict between their feeling pleased by the power of the drama, and their moral/soul sense.