aliens, bisexuals and stereotypes, oh my!
I have a whole list of topics to blog about, including the Reclaim the Night march I went on this weekend. Instead, I’m going to rant about a TV show. Torchwood is a spin-off of the British sci-fi show, Doctor Who. It was promoted as the ‘grown-up’ version of what is essentially a family show, and a lot was made of the fact that Jack Harkness, the lead character is ‘omnisexual’ (in contrast to the Doctor, who is generally considered asexual). Both shows come from Russell T Davies, the man behind the (original) UK version of Queer as Folk, and the two newest series of Who have been criticised for their gay-heavy content. So far, so diverse? I wish.Anything from here on in can be considered a spoiler to the latest episode of Torchwood, Greeks Bearing Gifts (written by Toby Whithouse). You have been warned. Episode seven aired yesterday and, if you count a rather homoerotic instance of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, all the main characters have had same-sex experiences. The show is made up of three men and two women, and the way their potential bisexuality is portrayed differs radically.
• In the first episode, laddish medic Owen is shown hitting on a woman in a bar who isn’t remotely interested. But not a problem! For Owen has brought his very own
• In the next episode, a woman is possessed by an alien who feeds off the human orgasm. Just typing this is making me realise how much crack this show is on, but bear with me. At some point, Gwen Cooper, the new recruit to the Torchwood team, gets locked in the cell with her. Now Gwen used to be a policeman in Cardiff, which is the capital city of Wales. Most capital cities have their fair share of bad guys, and one would imagine that a basic part of police training isDon’t Get Locked Into A Cell With The Villain (Especially If The Villain Is An Alien And It’s Your First Day On The Job Working For A Covert Government Organisation). However, Gwen was obviously off the day they covered that in cop school, and ends up in a lesbian liplock with Sex Alien Girl. The rest of the team watch this on CCTV, drooling, until someone points out that Sex Alien Girl reduces her lovers not so much to jelly as to a pile of ash on the floor. They reluctantly tear themselves away from Policewomen Gone Wild and go to her rescue. But it’s OK, Sex Alien Girl can’t get real satisfaction from women so Gwen can live to mess up another day.
The next few episodes are irritating, but not as objectionable as the ones I’m focussing on. The receptionist has been keeping his half-robot ex in the basement until he can find a cure for being a robot, and polygamous, commitment-phobic time-traveller Jack meets up with his old (as in, grandmother-old) war-time girlfriend to fight fairies – the winged kind, that is – and angsts about the life they could have had if he hadn’t gone to run around the universe flirting with everyone he meets. Oh, and Gwen the SuperCop gets shoved into a tree by Drug Rape Owen, who grinds against her and makes her admit that she wants him, wants him bad.
• Which leads me to last night’s episode. See, Toshiko Sato is the resident geek girl who has never gotten over kissing Owen a year ago. In fact, she hasn’t kissed anyone since (pay attention, this is A Theme in Toby Whithouse’s writing). Honestly, with his sexual powers, it’s a wonder he even needs to use pheromone date rape aerosols . Tosh was as intrigued as anyone by Gwen the SuperCop’s girl-on-girl action, but is feeling a little bit betrayed by her New Best Friend shagging her crush when said NBF KNOWS she really likes Owen. So she goes to a bar, gets picked up by a cute blonde lesbian and starts spilling the secrets of Torchwood. Cute Blonde lesbian kisses her and gives her a pretty necklace that allows Tosh to hear everyone’s thoughts. Then they do sex, and Tosh freaks out – either because she slept with a woman or because now someone other than Owen has kissed her. To cut a long story short, Gwen the SuperCop thinks Tosh can’t dress for shit, Drug Rape Owen thinks she’s annoying, and Cute Blonde Lesbian is actually an evil alien who was using Tosh to get to Torchwood. Jack sends her back to her home planet with some alien technology he fixed, and consoles Tosh by patting her suggestively on her thigh.
Not forgetting, of course, Jack’s line about not trusting people when they started acting distracted and unlike themselves – one time his friend Vincent did that, vanished for six months, and when he came back had ‘started calling himself Vanessa’. Be careful, kids! If your friends are acting quiet and moody, they might have a sex change!
I expected better from a show that markets itself as gay-friendly. Not gratuitous lesbianism, not cheap shots at transpeople, and not the kind of sloppy, retrogressive characterisation that is only a problem if you have breasts.
In Doctor Who, the female sidekicks have a reputation of screaming lots and falling over. I’d argue that this is mostly unearned, but any effort to have a sassy 21st century companion is to be applauded. And in the first series, it works. Rose Tyler is from a crappy estate, with a crappy job and a rubbish boyfriend who will eventually prove himself to be a hero and make me cry, dammit. Since her mother has never warned her about getting into time machines with strange men, she becomes the latest assistant to the Doctor, a rather angsty chap who has just ended a war on his home planet by killing everyone, and now bitches about being lonely. Rose kicks ass. She functions as the audience in a way - gaping at the cool special effects and asking the kind of stupid questions we’d ask if we were whisked into time and space by Christopher Eccleston. She even saves the day once or twice. But by the second season, she’s clingy, co-dependent and talking about mortgages. And when they run into Sarah Jane Smith*, one of the Doctor’s previous sidekicks, boy do her hackles rise.
Russell T Davies has been variously credited with reinventing British sci-fi and not being able to write women. It’s hard not to think that the two are connected. He’s openly gay, as quite a few of the actors, production staff and writers seem to be, and he’s not afraid of letting it show in his scripts. This is great, it’s hard not to be happy about a cult show being reinvented by someone who isn’t afraid to bring the gay, to question the heterocentric attitudes of mainstream media. But it stops there. Female sexuality is constantly portrayed as either problematic or titillating, whereas male sexuality, even when it’s threatening, is applauded. I have no problem with shades of grey, with protagonists who aren’t necessarily the good guys, but I don’t want Crazy/Evil lesbians there to boost ratings, I don't want women fighting over men, and I don’t want misogynistic characters labelled heroes.
*Ah, Sarah Jane. In the 70s, she was a time-travelling journalist and women’s libber, bringing feminism to medieval England and far-flung planets. In 2006, she’s never quite gotten over the Doctor and is not impressed to have been replaced by a bottle-blonde chav with no A-Levels.