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I've been critical of the show in recent years but they got this spot on.
Vera Duckworth. We'll never see her like again.
Jack attack
Four young people are in a van chasing a bloke in sports car with a fish for head. Another exciting edition of Scooby Doo? No, silly, it’s the return of Doctor Who for grown ups, Torchwood. The good news is here is that the show is no longer obviously trying to justify its post-watershed slot. The bad is that is it remains as shallow as it did in the first run.

The rest of the team are so repressed it's ridiculous and all that buttoned up intensity sadly makes them seem constipated rather than sexy. Gwen is slightly less drippy than last time out but not much while one can only hope that Jack's return to the fun loving guy we first met in World War Two will help loosen them up a bit. Or will it? At the end of episode one Jack was handed a fresh reason to go all moody and introverted on us. A Grey day indeed.
The episode itself lacked substance, an amusing enough runaround which placed the team in jeopardy but it was all a bit on the obvious side. What this show needs is some proper science fiction. Perhaps we should send the writers some Star Trek DVDs so they can see how its done.
TV Medics
It's Wednesday night and when I should be curled up on the sofa watching the aforementioned Torchwood, I’m sitting in a cubicle of Accident and Emergency where my grandmother has been rushed in with breathing difficulties. Unfortunately, I’m also sitting with my mother who seems to have better knowledge of emergency medicine than some of the staff. Television you see, it’s a great educator.
Mum takes umbrage at my suggestion that she’s watched too much Holby City, having just explained to my Granny what the cannula is doing in her arm. By the time she advises the old girl to use some lip balm because “Oxygen can dry your lips out” and I ask her where she picked that up from - Diganosis Murder perhaps – relations are frosty. The A and E waiting room used to have a perfectly serviceable little portable telly on which I was hoping to catch some of Match of The Day. It’s been replaced by an expensive looking LCD screen which is imparting knowledge about Tuberculosis. They call that progress, apparently.
I've still got the whiff of hospital up my nose – how come hospitals smell of vomit when they used to smell of disinfectant? - when I tune in to ER.
The old warhorse seems to have a smaller regular cast than in previous years but things are looking up thanks to new nonsense new chief Moretti, played wonderfully by the charismatic Stanley Tucci. He more than makes up for the missing Luka.
One thing I've always wondered: why is Neela the only character that is allowed to swear?



