Sparks fly between Talon and Garret, which may cause some complications between Talon and new wannabe-best friend Gwyn. Marshall Withers continues to dig into Gwyn’s secrets, and Elinor may have a way to get The Worm’s connections for Colipsum and a bit of revenge for his killing of her son.

When I watch The Outpost now I treat it as a parody, because there’s frankly no other way I can see it. And god bless it, it does keep feeding me material. This week, we open with a sparring session between Spears and Talon, which seems to have been written by a man who suddenly thought ‘How can we get girls more interested in this show?’ and who came up with the answer of ‘Shirtless men and love triangles’. If both these things hadn’t been so obviously and torturously forced, who knows, it might even have worked. At the very least, it’s a welcome addition to have a bit of blatant eye candy on the screen that’s male for a change, and in fairness Jake Stormroen’s ridiculously ripped abs, biceps and triceps give a far more eloquent performance in a few minutes than he’s managed himself in the last three episodes.

The dialogue between the pair as they fight, which I gather is supposed to be edgy and flirty, instead comes off as the sort of awkward stuff a teenager might say out loud having thought of something much more romantic and poetic in their head. Never mind, Gwyn’s there to pour a cold bucket of water (metaphorically) over the pair of them anyway, whether it’s needed or not.

Gwyn continues to feel utterly out of place in the show – her costume and demeanour seem designed for something else entirely, and she never really seems to have much to do with anything other than bounding onto set to ‘cause mischief’. Here she takes Talon on a ‘girls night out’, passive-aggressively interrogates her about her interest in Spears and then they go and play cards and get drunk. It’s lovely, but it’s hard to see what any of it adds to anything.

We get a bit more of Withers here as well, and sorry to say it doesn’t paint him in any better a light. There was a small hint somewhere back in episode 2 that he might be a character with layers – that beneath the gruff exterior and the perma-scowl there might be a man who was basically trying to do the right thing. Here, all of that is made a mockery of in several different ways. Withers is a bent copper in the tradition of bent coppers in all poorly-conceived drama, and it’s difficult to credit that the show which wanted us to see how earnestly he believed in upholding the law is so happy to have it quite so brazenly manipulated for the ends of those he favours. Withers is not only a prat, he’s a massive hypocrite. Oh well.

After most of its run time serving these various distractions, the show suddenly remembers that pesky thing about a murderous demon that is killing folks and is unstoppable by anyone but Talon, and she puts aside all the flirting, drinking and gambling to have another pointless conversation with the blacksmith before heading out to tell the thing to piss off to whatever dimension it came from again. She’s on a clock though, because Withers has suddenly remembered he’s the town marshal and ordered her to leave by sundown. How can the show possibly resolve these two directly opposite narrative thrusts? Poorly, as it turns out. Quelle surprise.

Verdict: Watching it with the expectation that it’ll be poorly scripted with terrible sets actually makes The Outpost bearable, but no power of intentional parodic viewing intention on earth could make this good. Four episodes in, we still have clunky exposition, inconsistent characters and a generally dreadful and cheap look. Awful. 2/10

Greg D. Smith