I am not loving Torchwood. A lot of people are, but it must makes me feel a bit nostalgically sad. Like when you run into someone you used to love and realise that not only do you not love them anymore, but that you wish they would hurry up so you can get on with the shopping.

It’s not love, it’s not hate – just indifference.

The characters are unappealing, the story is shabbily structured and the concept is hardly that strong. That idea has been around since the first wily folk-hero trapped death in a sack.

Gwen is the best thing about this show, and I have hated her character from the beginning.

The latest episode, in the UK, spent most of the hour stuck on a plane while the actress from Dollhouse was sly eyed and tried to poison Captain Jack (I quite liked her actually) and then everyone else tried to save him.

Why? What was the point of those 30 or so minutes? So we, the audience, knew that he was mortal now? Established last week. So we, the audience, knew there were forces out there that wanted Jack dead? Again, we already did that last week. The only thing this accomplished was convincing Fisher King Rex that Jack really was mortal now. Which could have been done a lot quicker and with a lot less gurning on Jack’s part.

And to be honest, who cares about Rex? Ok, so I assume the people who like the show do. He is horrible though. I can muster pity for him and his unhealing wound, but he is basically a horrible, nasty person. He is arrogant, emotionally sadistic and a bit of a thick. It is Esther who actually accomplishes things, all Rex does is fetch and irritate people for no reason. It is shame, because the actor is very good and does a lot with the few moments of pathos he gets. I suppose he is meant to be the new Owen, but Owen was a dick with a skill-set. Besides, he was a rapist and I never much liked him either.

Basically it was filler. No that’s not fair. It was very dull filler – there was never any real expectation that Jack was going to die. It is unlikely they will kill him at all, he is the fulcrum of the show, and certainly they aren’t going to do it this soon.

Meanwhile the random paedophile wept unconvincingly on TV, the doctor (not Doctor) remained the only interesting or proactive character and the devil showed up in her red coat and her red hair, exhaling smoke with wicked glee, as she moved in on souls.

The devil, by the way, works for a drug company specialising in pain medication. Wow, the sort of compay that would really benefit from a situation where no one dies but everyone hurts. That was subtle.

In fairness, I do like the devil. She is so translucently wicked, practically winking behind her pretence at being nice, that it is endearing. Like she and the audience are somehow in cahoots. ‘Sure I am evil, you know it and I know it. These idiots though? They don’t have a clue.’

(I am giving Torchwood the benefit of the doubt and assuming that the almost pantomime quality of the character is deliberate. The actress can do subtle, so she must have been told not to.)

And then there is Captain Jack. Who killed his grandson. I know he had to. It was a necessary act, unavoidable. I can forgive his character for that. He can’t forgive himself, or he shouldn’t anyhow. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe that is behind his strange, watchful fascination with the pedophile. Someone who shares the bitter distinction of being a child-killer, but who chose it rather than having it forced on him.

A more accurate mirror would have been someone who killed their own child, of course. It would have captured the betrayal of trust, the severing of family ties.

I know, I know. If I don’t like it, I should stop watching. I might yet, but I want to give it a chance, I want the obvious plot signposts to turn out to be red herrings (red devils) and RTD to pull something marvellous and tightly plotted out of the hat in the final episode.

Something other than everyone on earth clapping their hands because they believe in the Doctor.