And finally...I found myself in a rift of rampant bisexuality last week with the return of Torchwood (BBC2, Wednesday). It wasn't pleasant. I don't mean to offend bisexuals everywhere but it's just not for me, darling.
Torchwood is the story of a group of young alien-busters in Cardiff who have struggled to find satisfactory employment elsewhere. As it happens, conveniently, the city has been built upon a "rift" in space and time, which allows creepy beings to force their attentions upon us. So last week, an "anomaly" in ITV's Primeval; this week it's a "rift". Television's new mantra is clearly, if you spot a good idea, do it twice.
So last week, the "creepy being" was a very unpleasant chap called Captain John. It transpired, after a gay snog with Captain Jack, that these two had a past. They both wore fancy electronic bangles, too. I can pick up the signs.
Captain John wanted to control the universe, or something similar, while Captain Jack (John Barrowman) simply wanted to pout at the camera for an hour. He really is the Keira Knightley of television.
The story romped along, but the casual gun violence was quite disturbing. Why does it have to look like some trashy American cop show? Rubbish!
I can't believe that the BBC wants to show this drama before the watershed. This Doctor Who spin-off is transparently, and dangerously, pushing the boundaries of taste to court reaction. Well, here's one: please crawl back into the rift from whence you came.
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