(reposted from my LiveJournal – “Torchwood: The Children Of Earth” review)

I think I just cried my eyes out. And really, I don’t even know why. But I feel sick, and I feel like crying myself to sleep.
I’ve just finished watching parts 4 and 5 of Torchwood’s Children of Earth.
So what was it? The first three parts were great. No, forget that – all five parts were great. I mean, really, this was cinema on the TV screen, this was a grand piece of art. Camera work, editing, effects, music, emotions – that’s how it should look, the real great shows out there, how they should be made. But then, they shouldn’t – at least not with this contents.
So, the first three parts were hard, really hard, with Jack dying/exploding and coming back to life, with the others running and hiding, always keeping the tension, making me afraid for them of being caught. It was good to see that they were still a team, that they did everything for the team, despite there quite hopeless situation. It was good to see Rhys working with them; and that is while I didn’t like him in the beginning.
And then came parts 4 and 5.
It was good to see people finding their sense of right and wrong. Like Lois. Like, finally, in the end, Johnson.
And that is exactly the point. Right and wrong. The whole concept and background of this five-part-story was… well, disturbing. Aliens coming to earth and demanding to get 10% of every country’s population of children. 10% from every country of the world. Thousands, millions of innocent children for an evil alien race. If it had been my decision which children had have to go, I would have shot myself. Or I would have told the world to fight, just like Jack did. But I also caught myself thinking: Should ever something like that really happen – then I’m glad I’m not a child anymore.
They saved the world. They saved so many children, and probably even more people, parents, grandparents.
Because they would have gone, too, with their children, dying at the loss of their future and the most valuable things they have in life.
And yet people died.
Ianto. I was never the Janto shipper – I might be a shipper, but I’m not really a slasher, and there was always the chance – to me – for Jack/Gwen. But… I knew Jack/Ianto wasn’t just a mere fantasy of fans; I mean, it was obvious, often shown in the past one year. And though I’m not a slasher, I began to think of Jack/Ianto as “sweet” – they truly had somthing. My heart broke when Ianto said “I love you” when he was dying. How much I hate those no-turning-back-situations, how much I hate it when such things are said under circumstances that already imply – it’s the last time this will be said. It’s so damn ultimate, no going back, no making it right, no changing. Just the end. And of course Jack couldn’t answer; as much as Ianto would have wanted to hear it from Jack, and as much as Jack knew that, he simply couldn’t say it. It would have destroyed him, even more though, and they both knew it. Jack can’t really love. Because he’s like the Doctor – even when he loves, his beloved ones will eventually die, and he will have to watch it, again and again. No one could deal with it, no one. It’s even too much for one lifetime to bear with. Second thought was, at least Ianto got to say it. Others never got the chance to form into spoken words what had been held back for a normal life’s sake. Like it had been in NCIS with Jenny and Jethro. She never got to say it. But she loved him, still loved him. And she had to die with the thought of him never knowing it.
Forbisher. His wife knew it. She knew it was the end. A wife knows something like that. And I knew there were going to be shots. I’ve heard so many before, in so many shows, on so many occassions. And never did I wince; not even when Jenny was killed – back then I just cried my heart and soul out. But this time I winced. A man killing his family, his beloved wife and daughters, and himself. Only to prevent the family from falling apart. Fate has a cruel sense of salvation.
Steven. One child dying for millions to live. Just one child. What is one child when there are millions saved? It is the world. To one person, maybe two or three, it is the whole world. And it is a whole world falling down when this one child dies. Even if it saves millions. But what are millions to a mother who has lost her child? What are millions to a man who sacrificed his own grandson? One decision, a second in an eternity, merely a fragment in history. But it changes everything. It changes those who suffer. Suffer from a loss even millions of saved ones will never be able to compensate.
And then there is this one man who lost everything. Lost it long ago. And will lose it. Again and again. And never will he find salvation.
Going to bed now. And trying to forget the sick feeling in my stomach. Because something like that will never happen. There aren’t any aliens out there. There are no Iantos, Jacks, Stevens, John Frobishers. There’s no Torchwood and no government that would sacrifice children.
At least I hope so.

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