Day 744: The Doctor's Daughter

The Doctor's Daughter, as an episode, was brought about because Stephen Greenhorn, the writer, said that the Doctor was essentially an unchanging character, so Russell T Davies, the showrunner, wanted to challenge him on that point. Thus, the idea of having an episode where the Doctor has to deal with a genetic offspring was conceived. And whilst this idea may actually be rather interesting, the episode that builds on it just doesn't work, in my opinion.

The reason why it doesn't work is that it fails to allow the central concept to breathe. There are some really good scenes where the Doctor and Jenny spend time together, and they are what makes the episode worth watching but they aren't well drawn enough to give the impression that a relationship has been built up between the two characters. Take, for instance, the scene with the laser grid. Within the space of three minutes, we go from the Doctor being angry at Jenny for shooting at people, to Jenny shooting at a ventilation duct to buy them more time and to find the non-violent solution, which causes the Doctor to suddenly turn his position completely around to loving Jenny for what she does. It's too quick to feel like a natural development of their relationship, and so the story suffers for it.

And it's not as if the story didn't have anything to lose. For some reason Martha Jones is in this story, where she contributes virtually nothing of interest to the plot. All she does is end up on the side of the opposing army, trek across a wasteland, have someone die whilst saving her, and then have a chat with the Doctor at the end. It's a lot of screen time for something that doesn't really add anything to the plot, and you can't help but be struck by how this time could have been better spent elsewhere. And that sums up the problem with the story. Even though Greenhorn has been tasked with writing a story that changes the Doctor, it seems that he can't get away from the idea that the series should be purely about people having a science-fiction adventure. And whilst this is not necessarily a bad thing, it does mean that there's a lack of focus in this story that prompts it to not entirely work as an episode of Doctor Who overall.

Which isn't the best way to end the year, but there we are. Still, at least tomorrow we'll be able to start the year on a high note.

Day 743: The Poison Sky

"I've got to give them a choice"

Full disclosure: when preparing this blog, I will occasionally draw up vague plans in my head for what certain entries will be about. These plans, however, will often jump gleefully out of the window once I watch the episode and realise something far better to talk about. One such example is this entry, where I was planning to talk about the duality of the Sontarans and UNIT. But then I watched the above scene, and realised that it had to be about it.

It's a scene that crept up on me, because I wasn't expecting it to happen. The events leading up to it are about the Doctor planning to kill all the Sontarans, with a device that will destroy their atmosphere. The only problem is that he has to activate it manually. And when Martha asks the Doctor why he can't set it on a delay, I thought he was going to say that they'd find and defuse it. I didn't expect him to say the quote at the top of this entry. But, of course, it makes perfect sense that he would. He's the Doctor, a man who always seeks for the best way out of any given situation. Even consider The Fires of Pompeii, where he only erupts Vesuvius on the proviso that it will end up saving the entire world, although at the cost of Pompeii. It's a strong character beat, and sums up a lot of what the Doctor is about.

And then it gets even more interesting when he offers the choice to the Sontarans. He hadn't considered the fact that the Sontarans would be so one dimensional, and so he isn't able to have the debate that he was hoping to have, where he could perhaps convince General Staal to rescind the order to destroy the Earth. So the focus is turned entirely on the Doctor, where it's about whether he has the ability to press that button and kill the Sontarans. Unfortunately, the story prevents us from further dwelling on that question of whether he would have pressed that button, but it's an interesting moral quandary nonetheless, and provides a nice ending to a thoroughly decent story.

Day 742: The Sontaran Stratagem

The Sontaran Stratagem is, rather surprisingly, quite watchable. Helen Raynor's last story for Doctor Who (the Daleks in Manhattan two parter) was, in my opinion, less than satisfactory. But for the Sontaran story, on the other hand, she's able to produce something that's far better in terms of quality, if a little simpler in terms of plot. However, it does still manage to do some interesting things, in particular with the re-invention of the Sontarans.

The Sontarans, in the Classic Series, weren't that great as monsters. Unlike the Cybermen or the Daleks, they lacked anything that made them stand out amongst the swathes of monsters that the Doctor faced throughout his incarnations. This is partially due to the fact that they only appeared in four stories, leaving them with less screen time to truly make an impact, and that one of those stories just used them as generic invading monsters (The Invasion of Time), meaning that their entire modus operandi doesn't really have enough time to sink. The main focus of the Sontarans is that they are military beings, obsessed with war and conquest. In The Time Warrior, we see this as the Sontaran advising medieval people how to best fight their enemies, while in The Sontaran Experiment, they adopt the far more sinister approach of researching the best ways to kill their foes in battle. It's a nice conceit, but the problem is that it's not brought out significantly enough in their stories to be sufficiently memorable.

The Sontaran Stratagem changes this slightly by bringing their military nature to the foreground. They are always seen standing up straight like little soldiers, with a general barking out orders to his men and the Doctor even pointing out that their weakness of a probic vent on the back of the neck is also a fun psychological battle advantage, forcing them to face their enemies in battle. And this all works as something to show what the Sontarans are, but it doesn't really show why the audience should be that interested in them.

To answer this, the Sontarans are given the beautiful advantage of being funny. We're allowed to laugh at the Sontarans, and recognise that their obsession with war is really a bit over the top and kind of laughable. It's best seen in the line "(The Doctor) led the battle in the last great Time War. The finest war in history and we weren't allowed to be a part of it". It contrasts the constant grieving from the Doctor over the fighting in the Time War and how he lost his entire race with a group of people who were quite disappointed that they couldn't take part. It's a rather funny notion and it allows the audience to laugh at the monsters. And whilst being able to laugh at the Sontarans ended up being one of the programmes greatest strengths in later episodes, taking them seriously can reveal some other interesting things, as seen in The Poison Sky.

Day 741: Planet of the Ood

The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit was an episode rich with characters and concepts, and unfortunately some of these had to make way for the main meat of the episode - the Doctor/Devil confrontation. Fortunately Russell T Davies saw sense, and went forth to commission a story based around the story's most interesting idea, which is how the Ood actually work.

The Ood were introduced as a slave race, and aside from a brief moment of questioning from Rose, they are generally left that way. Planet of the Ood dares to ask how they became slaves, and more importantly, it delves into the question of why they are slaves. The way in which it deals with this is quite interesting, when considering the structure of the episode. When it begins, we see the Ood as much the same as in The Impossible Planet, i.e. generally docile with some element of danger within them. It presents their slavery as perfectly normal, a by-product of the world of 4126. To compare with the Ood, humans working on the Ood-Sphere are also introduced, presenting a look at the normal people in this time period. We see four main characters, being a slightly menacing boss (Halpen), his quiet scientist assistant (Ryder), a generic security team leader (Kess) and Solana, an assistant working on the Ood-Sphere. Naturally, the audience can assume that, whilst the majority of the humans will turn out to be slightly malevolent, there will be good eggs within the basket, perhaps Solana, the friendly assistant will be a keen ally to the Doctor and Donna.

As the story progresses, however, the way in which we see the humans changes somewhat through the lens of looking at the Ood. We see that they are incredibly cruel to the Ood, packing them away in storage containers, keeping them in cages, and most shockingly of all, removing their hind brain from their bodies to make way for a translation globe, effectively lobotomising them. Suddenly, the focus of the story switches from the Ood as monsters to the humans being the real monsters. We see this expressed in two ways. One is the scene where Kess chases down the Doctor using the claw of a crane, which he does with a frightening amount of glee, going straight for the kill of the Doctor. At this moment, he goes from generic security leader to a reasonably malevolent man, actively taking glee from the pain that he gives others. It means that when the Ood kill him later in the story, we actually empathise with the Ood, and see them as the heroes of the story, with the humans as the villains.

Similarly, Solana goes from being a hopeful ally to a traitor, revealing the Doctor and Donna's position to the guards and actively telling the security men to kill the Ood as they begin their revolution. Her uncomfortable views reveals another side to the story, that the evil doesn't have to be with characters like Halpen, men who happily dash about the story joking as they prepare to commit genocide. Instead evil people can be perfectly normal, with a smile on their face as they go about and do their work. Solan's death at the hands of an Ood doesn't feel like a moment that presents the Ood as heartless in their quest to get their freedom back, it comes as a relief to see her character get what she deserves.

And, honestly, that's just scratching the surface of Planet of the Ood, which is a story that always improves for me on repeated viewing. It's about the need for revolution, it's about how humans can and often are the bad guys, and it's about taking an offhand moment from some past adventure and realising that there's a story to be told.

Day 740: The Fires of Pompeii

Given that The Fires of Pompeii is a story that concerns itself with prophecy, is it any wonder that the episode itself ended up being so prophetic? Not only does it feature David Tennant and Catherine Tate as the present Doctor and companion, respectively, but it also dares to feature a future Doctor and a future companion, with Peter Capaldi (later the Twelfth Doctor) appearing as Caecilius and Karen Gillan (later Amy Pond) as a soothsayer. And once you get over the joy of seeing two Doctors on screen at the same time, what you're left with is a really good story.

The entire point of the episode is to look at the concept of fixed moments in time and point out how heartbreaking they are. As we watch it, we're constantly reminded of how the Doctor sees the world, with moments in time that can't be broken, no matter how tragic they might be. Importantly, the story calls for the Doctor to be implicitly against this, as seen in some of the final moments as he angrily states that he had no choice but to leave Pompeii to die. There's even a throwaway line, stated in a joking sort of manner as the Doctor discovers the Pyrovile's plan, where he states "Then the whole planet is at stake. Thank you. That's all I needed to know". On first viewing, one can see this as just an extension of the joke of having a villain explain their plan in detail to the Doctor, but repeated viewing clearly shows that this moment is clearly the Doctor weighing up between tragedies, and deciding in that moment that it is better for the timeline as a whole if Pompeii dies.

But, perhaps most importantly, the story is not through the Doctor's eyes. Instead, we see things as Donna sees them, a world full of ordinary people, all of whom are going to die. If memory serves me correctly, Russell T Davies, whilst re-working James Moran's script into its final form, worked particularly with the characters to make them feel more real, thus making the tragedy more real. This can be seen, for instance, in the scene between Donna and Caecilius' daughter Evelina where they are just allowed to talk like normal people, with Donna curious as to what young women do for fun in Ancient Pompeii, letting the character, and by extension the audience, grow to have a connection with the family of Caecilius, making their apparent death at the end feel all the more sad.

Of course, Caecilius doesn't die, instead going on to be a beacon for the Doctor in a future adventure. But that's another story for another day...

Day 739: Partners in Crime

Partners in Crime is an interesting story to introduce a new companion in. As you will recall, Donna Noble, who returns in Partners in Crime, was already introduced in The Runaway Bride, where she made a clear and positive impact due to Catherine Tate's clear comedic timing and sensibilities, as well as her chemistry with David Tennant. Her return, then, in Partners in Crime has to serve not only as a reintroduction to the character for those that never saw her first appearance, it also has to remind the rest of the audience of why she was so good in the first place.

The way in which Russell T Davies achieves this is by first establishing that Donna has evolved as a character beyond her first appearance. She's kept much of what made her good in her first episode, and moments like "You're not mating with me sunshine!" and the mime scene bring forth memories of the lighter scenes in The Runaway Bride. But she's also grown from that experience, seeking new experiences, and notably starting the adventure completely independently of the Doctor, with the two of them being separated from each other for the first 25 minutes of the episode. By doing this, the audience can begin to see that she's clearly a strong companion, and it helps acclimatise them to her forthcoming time on the TARDIS (remember also that there were some doubts about her re-appearance on the series, with some people disliking The Runaway Bride intensely. These people, by the way, are all fools.).

The other main way through which Davies is able to help to introduce Donna is through keeping her with Tennant in the latter half of the episode. In the two prior introduction stories, there were scenes where the Doctor and companion were separated towards the end, to help show their respective strengths in various scenarios. For Partners in Crime, however, Davies recognises that the main reason why Tennant's Doctor worked so well with Donna was their chemistry, and so he keeps them together, working as a team as they stop Miss Foster from turning people into Adipose. It helps to show that the partnership is strong, and goes as further evidence to show that Donna not only could be on the TARDIS as a companion, it would be to the benefit of the series if she were to become a companion. And of course she did, and the rest, as they say, is history...

Day 738: Voyage of the Damned

When I was in the process of starting up the blog, one of the first things that I did was create a massive Excel spreadsheet of every episode, which I put alongside the date that I was going to be watching it. The two purposes of this were to ensure that I hadn't missed a day by keeping a close eye on what day I was meant to be doing what, and also to have a sneak peek at what episodes I'd be watching on reasonably important days. My eyes dashed towards Christmas 2013 - The Sensorites Episode 3 - not the most festive episode, but enjoyable nonetheless. Christmas 2014 then came to mind, and I saw Revenge of the Cybermen Part 1, again not the most festive of episodes, and not the greatest either, unfortunately. Maybe Christmas 2015 would be better, I thought, at the very least there's the possibility that I could end up watching a Christmas special on Christmas Day! I looked and saw that on Christmas 2015 I was scheduled to watch Amy's Choice. I rather liked Amy's Choice last time I watched it, and I looked forward to that Christmas, but I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that it wasn't particularly festive.

Flash forward to mid-December, 2015. I'm watching The Runaway Bride and reflecting on Christmas Specials past, present, and future. I casually wonder what episode I'll be watching on Christmas Day again; the break that I took for exams meant that my spreadsheet was now a couple of weeks out of date. A quick round of mental arithmetic later and I realise that it's going to be The Last of the Time Lords. If I'd finished my break a day earlier, I'd be watching a Christmas Special on Christmas Day. So I made a quick decision to cheat and watch two episodes on the one day; after all, it is nearly Christmas and I deserve to treat myself...

So I watched Voyage of the Damned on Christmas Day. It's not the most overtly festive of the Christmas Specials, but it very much falls into the mould that was set by The Runaway Bride - make the episode fun. And so whilst we get a reasonably dramatic story about the Doctor banding together a group of misfits (including Kylie Minogue!) to escape the Titanic in space, you can't help but feel that much of it was written with a certain sense of glee from the writer, Russell T Davies. You can't help but give a chortle at the sight of seeing Kylie Minogue in a forklift in a battle with a cyborg, which is just the right amount of ridiculousness for this episode.

But the special isn't just a romp on the Titanic. It makes the strong decision to include hints of the Doctor's character arc at the conclusion of the episode, making him lose Astrid whilst desperately trying to save her, and allowing him to lose his temper, shouting out "I can do anything!" in a fit of rage. It's not the Doctor's finest moment in terms of his character, because it shows a certain arrogance to the man, showing that it's become harder and harder for him to accept the inevitability of losing. This brief moment adds a bit more flavour to the feast that is placed before us in Voyage of the Damned, and helps to make for what is quite a fun and interesting story.

So Voyage of the Damned is a nice and fun episode to watch, a perfect way to wind down after a hectic Christmas. And, incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!

Day 737: The Last of the Time Lords

The problem with The Last of the Time Lords is its flaw. If you ignore the flaw, then you get a reasonably good story. Sure, whilst seeing the Master in control of the Earth isn't quite as fun as you might have hoped, and the fact that Tennant is mainly reduced either to being an old man in a wheelchair or a CGI monstrosity leaves the story without its best element - the Tennant/Simm scenes, but it does have some remarkably good things in it such as the Tennant/Simm scenes that we do get, or the powerful scene where the Doctor stops Francine Jones from shooting the Master. But the problem with all of these scenes, as I said, is that the flaw overpowers them.

The flaw starts off slowly. The revelation that Martha has been travelling around the Earth to tell others about the Doctor, in order to get them to pledge their belief in him as the Master prepares to turn the Earth into an all-out warship is kind of nice, and whilst on prior viewings I may have looked down on it, now I see it as something rather nice; a way for the Doctor to win without using violence. The revelation that the collective thoughts of humanity are being amplified by the Archangel network, the very network which the Master used to take over the world, is actually rather neat and plays well into the themes that I talked about yesterday about the plot of The Sound of Drums being based around the Master taking absolute control, and that other Master plots focus the conclusion on the Doctor re-taking control. Here, he takes control using the same method as the Master, a nice duality to the pair. But, getting back on track, this all comes across as something a little bit fun, but you can't help but feel that something's going to go wrong soon.

And then the Doctor becomes a flying God and the story's flaw reveals itself in all its glory. It is not only a step too far for stretching the credulity of the story but it comes completely out of nowhere, making the whole story feel cheap by comparison. Comparing this to another finale, we have Rose in The Parting of the Ways. There, the heart of the TARDIS was signposted as a plot element a story prior in Boom Town, planting the seed that this could be possible. We also get to see Rose actively try to do something to get back to the Doctor and save him, which allows us to get some perspective of how everything worked out after watching the episode. Here, whilst the Archangel network was shown, it was only shown as a field that allowed for the Master to control people, not to allow the Doctor to fly. And whilst we did see Martha go out into the world and spread the word about the Doctor, it didn't lead to the logical conclusion that them thinking about him would make him into a Jedi.

It's a flaw that overpowers the finale, and kind of prevents it from being rather good in my opinion. The story's still not outright bad, but it doesn't quite work, and you can't help but feel that the story could have used an extra re-write to make the ending work just a bit better. But anyway, tomorrow looks set to be something rather special...

Day 736: The Sound of Drums

The Sound of Drums is an astonishing episode. It takes the very foundation of what one would expect from a Doctor Who story with the Master and turns it up to eleven, creating one of the most memorable finale build ups in the revived series' history.

To understand why it is so good, consider first what a normal episode with the Master is like. The Doctor and companion(s) begin the adventure and realise that there are some strange goings-on. They make some allies, delve into the conspiracy and, at some point, realise that the Master is behind everything, and then events escalate to the point where the Master has taken complete control of the situation with the Doctor and companion(s) otherwise indisposed. The rest of the story consists of the Doctor taking back control of the situation, and normally ends with the Master getting away by some means of escape. The Sound of Drums plays on this notion by taking one of the more interesting aspects of the Master structure and increasing its importance.

The episode is an exercise in the Doctor losing control as the Master gains control. Every step forwards that the Doctor makes, the Master always seems to be two steps ahead of him. The best example of this is the scene towards the end of the episode where the Doctor and co. find the TARDIS. Unlike other episodes, where the TARDIS is seen as some beacon of hope to suggest that the end is nearly in sight, here it is revealed that the TARDIS has been horrifically altered to suit the Master's purposes. The Master's impact on the story, this time round, is so strong that he's even taken control of the very basis of the show itself, kidnapping the Doctor's TARDIS and using it for his own ends.

Consider also that he has also taken control of the narrative, with Simm's Master having roughly equal screen time to Tennant's Doctor, reflecting the importance of the character and showing the gravity by which he attracts the viewers. But through all of that screen time, we never find out his actual plot. Instead it's used as an exercise in tension, where he shows off his house of cards to the whole audience, ready to show everyone the beautiful and fragile nature of what he has created, and relishing in the anticipation of when the whole thing will come down.

This all leads up to the climax, where the Master reveals that he has taken control of the situation to such a great extent that it's entirely possible that he has won. Every aspect of the story is set up to leave the Doctor with virtually no escape from the Master's scheme, leaving the Master in absolute control and leading into the finale, where it's clear that the Doctor has no hope of taking control back of the situation. This makes The Sound of Drums such a fantastic episode: it takes the basic structure of a generic Master story and takes it where no other writer would dare take it - Davies has put the Master in a position where he has unequivocally won.

And, to take a brief moment away from talking about The Sound of Drums, I should perhaps mention that this is the fifth episode in a row that is pretty much perfect. It's hard to think of another stretch of episodes throughout the revival series that is as good as these five episodes, and that shows that Davies really does deserve commendation for the work that he has done for this period. Nothing could possibly go wrong after this though...

Day 735: Utopia

Utopia is a story that I remember fondly, and it's dabbled in and out of my life over the course of the past 8 years.

It's a story that I remember being spoiled for, given that the surprise reveal of the Master at the end was leaked several months prior to the adventure. It was also spoiled in a trailer for it on ABC, where they decided to find some exciting clips to show from the story, including Derek Jacobi proclaiming himself to be the Master. Which, given that this is the major dramatic moment of the story, is quite a big spoiler, and I was quite peeved at them for revealing it in their trailer. But you can see why they chose it, as it is the stand-out moment of the entire episode. Jacobi's performance as the Master is easily one of the best performances of the character, and it's criminal that he only got 5 minutes to deliver it. He moves through his scenes with a quiet menace, killing people with a whisper and stopping the Doctor and co. simply and economically rather than by shouting him down in a blaze of glory. It's a strong contrast to the Master's next incarnation, who moves through his stories with a madness that makes him stand out amongst his incarnations. But that's for another time.

Utopia is also unique amongst Doctor Who episodes in that it is the only episode that I have seen in another language. In my final year of high school, our new French teacher was keen to improve our listening skills and our vocabulary so she told us to go out and find something in French on the weekend, watch it, and copy down some vocabulary that we learnt from it. Whilst others looked for music videos, or the news, I chose to find an episode of Doctor Who, just to make things a bit more interesting. Utopia was the only one that I could find that was dubbed into French, and thanks to it I know that the French word for Master is maître. I also learnt that the French word for javelin is javelot. Neither of these words proved particularly useful in my future French work, but I enjoyed the process of watching an episode in another language. It felt odd to see familiar scenes and faces speaking unfamiliar words. It also wan't helped by the fact that I hadn't seen Utopia in a year or two, so much of it was already unfamiliar to me. But it was still a lot of fun to watch it, not least because it also gave me a new appreciation of the directorial work of Graeme Harper.

Harper's direction, as I mentioned in 42, is wonderful. He gives each scene pace and energy that makes the story feel exciting and tense. The ending scenes as the Doctor comes to the realisation that the Master is alive feel intense, not least because Harper keeps the action moving, forcing the Doctor and co. to keep running, to keep moving, intensifying the urgency of what is unfolding before the audience's eyes. But he also allows for quiet scenes as well, such as the scene where the Doctor and Captain Jack discuss Jack's new found immortality. The scene is handled well, with the focus being clearly on the actors and the script, by Russell T Davies. It's a welcome change of pace, and feels like it fits perfectly within the context of the story.

But those are just a few of my thoughts on this fantastic episode. There's so much more to talk about, and I highly recommend this episode to watch. A lot of stuff gets neglected in Tennant's second series, mainly because it's overshadowed by Blink and the series finale. Unfortunately, Utopia feels like one of those stories, but I personally think it's a gem, and one of the best stories ever produced in the history of Doctor Who.

Day 734: Blink

Blink is, somewhat surprisingly, perfect. My personal experience with this episode is mixed with what I was doing on the internet in the lead up to Tennant's second series. I'd moved on from watching episodes illegally, although I would still make effort to seek out trailers and the like to whet my appetite for upcoming adventures. Series 3 had two main trailers associated with it, one was first broadcast at the end of The Runaway Bride and generally covered the first six episodes of the upcoming series equally. The second was first broadcast at the end of The Lazarus Experiment, and previewed the next six episodes, with a distinct focus on 42, Human Nature/The Family of Blood, Utopia and The Sound of Drums. Blink didn't really factor into the equation. I wouldn't be surprised if I simply forgot that it was coming up when I was looking at the list of upcoming episodes. It aired in the UK, and I was vaguely aware of what happened in it, and that it looked reasonably interesting. But, other than that, my mind was drawn to the far more interesting prospects of episodes based around Daleks, The Master and the Doctor becoming human.

But then, out of the blue, I found a poll on the Doctor Who website that looked at the best monsters of that series. Surprisingly, the Daleks had been knocked off the number one spot, a position that they were assumed to have for the rest of time, by the Weeping Angels. My interest was piqued. How could any monster be better than the Daleks? What makes the Weeping Angels so special? Watching the episode, it's easy to see why.

The Angels are perfect as Doctor Who monsters, because Steven Moffat, the writer, has constructed them to have three key elements that makes them frightening. The first is their modus operandi, where they send people back on time and feed off their potential energy. It's a quietly frightening concept, as you're presented with the prospect of being abandoned on your own in a time period completely alien to you. And beyond that, it feeds off the idea that death could be seen as a way of preventing you from continuing your life to go forth into the future. Moffat recognises that both of these elements are worrying, but the second is often forgotten, with the first being the major draw for fear of death. By focussing the Weeping Angels' attacks on this second concept, he makes them scary in a new and interesting way.

Similarly, the prospect of them being quantum locked is the next key element as to how they're fantastic monsters. It's a ludicrously simple idea: how about having a monster that operates entirely on jump scares? Jump scares may be a cheap way of getting thrills, but they're effective, and do stick in the mind long after the event has passed. It's a simple way to ensure that the monsters are seen as memorable, and not forgotten like other creatures of time past.

And it's quite good that they go unforgotten, because unlike any other monster in the series, these Weeping Angels are real. The story doesn't end with everyone going away and being happy, instead it chooses to end on a fourth wall breaking sequence as the Doctor's warning about the Angels is repeated over images of ordinary statues throughout every day life. This entire sequence is designed for children, to frighten them by pointing out that there is no way to tell whether a statue is an Angel or not. So he proposes that they have entered the real world, and that there is no stopping them. It's a simple enough sequence, but it sticks in the mind as an example of how to play on a child's imagination, and create a monster that is truly fantastic.

Day 733: The Family of Blood

One of the major differences between the novel and television versions of Human Nature is the ending. For the novel, the villains are more or less killed, while in the television version, the villains are given the far worse fate of being allowed to live. Immortality has long been viewed as a curse in Doctor Who, with examples such as the fate of Borusa in The Five Doctors and the development of the character of Ashildr in Capaldi's second series immediately springing to mind. The Family of Blood, however, is the first story to really deal with it as a horrific and harsh punishment.

We see The Family of Blood being given immortality, but sentenced to withstand different punishments that effectively render them trapped for all eternity. It's interesting to note, as well, that this is akin to the Doctor killing them, and yet it doesn't feel out of character, for whatever reason. Maybe it's because the act of killing would be too brutal, too much of a denial of their lives. It could also be due to the fact that the Doctor is giving them what they wanted, immortality, making him seem like a kind punisher, albeit with a cruel streak in his heart.

It could also be due to the fact that, as an audience, it's easy to see that they deserved it. The Family of Blood are frequently seen killing innocents and crossing various lines that make them too big a threat to let go. And this is followed up by Tennant's acting through the scene, which marks one of the few scenes he performs as the Doctor in this episode. He is quiet and serious, staring into the camera like an angry god, which feels quietly terrifying, but only for those who feel his wrath. It's also followed up by the fact that, for the rest of the Doctor's scenes, he comes across as likeable, dropping techno-babble and joking with Martha and one of the young schoolboys. The contrast between the two moods is extraordinary and slightly frightening, and shows the full range of Tennant's Doctor. And we'll explore that range further as his tenure continues. Tomorrow, however, we'll look at a story where he doesn't make too much of an appearance at all...

Day 732: Human Nature

Human Nature has an interesting story about its conception. It was first written by Paul Cornell in 1995, where it was published as a Doctor Who New Adventure novel. The concept was that the Doctor, keen to empathise with humans, turns himself into a human known as John Smith, setting into motion a series of beautiful and tragic events as the Doctor experiences all that humanity has to offer. It is a very good novel, and I have a very fond memory of reading it on a train journey to Sydney whilst on break from University. Now, it wasn't just admired by me, it was admired by an awful lot of people, including Russell T Davies, who brought Cornell back to Series 3 with the intention of having him adapt Human Nature for the television series.

There are some substantial differences between the two Human Natures, ranging from the villains, the cutting of various sub-plots and, of course, the changing of Doctor from Sylvester McCoy to David Tennant (and companion from Bernice Summerfield to Martha Jones). That said, the key things still remain the same. The Doctor still becomes human. He is still hunted for his Time Lord abilities. He still falls in love. The story is still in the shadow of the oncoming Great War, which gives some excellent moments as we realise that the schoolboys, while not necessarily being trained to become soldiers, are going to end up that way anyway. But there's still one difference that I think is rather interesting between the two.

The intention of the Doctor in the original story was, as I mentioned previously, to empathise with humans. In the television version, however, the Doctor is forced into it out of necessity in order to escape from the Family of Blood. This changes the focus of the story, in my opinion. For the novel version, it is essentially a story about the Doctor trying to be human, but unfortunately having to deal with an alien menace that forces him to give up his life as John Smith. For the television version, on the other hand, the story is about the Doctor avoiding an alien menace by becoming human, making the attack by the Family of Blood more inevitable as part of how events would eventually unfurl. It also means that John Smith, in the television version, is nothing more than a by-product, a man who was created out of necessity rather than want. It makes his final scenes feel slightly more tragic, as he begs for his own life, with Martha and the implied Doctor not even having considered that John's life might come into play.

But that's all looking forward to the next episode. But I suppose it's natural to look forward, after all, it's Human Nature.

Day 731: 42

42, much like The Lazarus Experiment, is pretty average. There are differences between the two, such as that 42 doesn't really try to do anything interesting thematically (although the scenes of the Doctor being scared are actually very interesting to see), but it more than makes up for it in terms of action. Fortunately, the story has been directed by one of the Russell T Davies era's greatest directors: Graeme Harper.

Harper is very much a stand-out director, first making waves with the excellent The Caves of Androzani, and then following it up with Revelation of the Daleks, a more flawed piece, but still worth watching nonetheless. On the strength of these two stories, Harper was invited back to the series when it was revived, being the only director to do work for both incarnations of Doctor Who. And viewing his methods, it's clear that it's because he was one of the few who was qualified to work on the series. He directed both of his Classic stories from the studio floor, preferring to work directly with the material instead of hiding away in the upper control rooms. This is combined with his style, where he combines interesting camera movements (such as the POV shots from Sharaz Jek in Androzani), with a keenness for energy in his actors, shouting at them and getting them to run on adrenaline, giving a performance that feels action packed. And whilst in the modern era of the series, this would be simply viewed as above-average to very good, depending on the context and the script, in the classic era, it was simply unheard of and sticks out amongst its contemporaries as something rather special.

So translating all of this to the modern era gives something, while not completely spectacular, is still surprisingly good. There's a scene, for instance, where the Doctor has to pull a switch on the outside of the ships hull. When watching it, it's very easy to see that this could have gone very wrong. The set isn't completely impressive, and for reasons of realism, Tennant doesn't move his body very much throughout the sequence, due to the forces acting upon his character. But Harper's direction helps elevate it to something more. He gives Tennant a certain energy that helps to show that the event is putting him under a lot of strain. He also chooses his shots well to reflect that fact, always ensuring that the Doctor's hand is only slightly in frame when certain buttons need to be pressed, reflecting the daunting nature of the task at hand. And finally, Murray Gold's music also gives the scene some much needed weight, filled with pace and energy, making it feel truly epic.

And that's the beauty of Harper. He's able to take a story and make it feel big, giving it pace and energy to turn it into something brilliant.

Day 730: The Lazarus Experiment

The Lazarus Experiment is a beloved Doctor Who story. To be more specific, it's beloved by my mother, who ranks it as one of the greatest episodes of Doctor Who that has ever been made. I regularly struggle to see where she's coming from, because, to my mind, this story is resolutely average.

I mean, the story does try to do good things. The action scenes are reasonably exciting, with some interesting camera moves from Richard Clark and an intriguing monster design for the Lazarus creature, even if the jaw opening is a little bit ridiculous. But the action scenes occasionally stretch credulity, such as the fact that Martha apparently does not have the ability to run and talk at the same time, stopping in her paces ever time she needs to say some line of dialogue, allowing the Lazarus creature to catch up. It makes the action scenes feel slightly unreal, and reduces the overall intensity of the situation.

There are reasonably good things in the episode, however, such as the fact that it desperately wants the story to be about a man wishing to extend his life, paralleled with the Doctor, who already lives with a vastly extended life. There are a few problems with this, however. For a start, this theme is, in general, restricted to a handful of conversations, with the real meat being a brief scene towards the end of the story, which then turns into another action set-piece. It gives the impression that the writer, Stephen Greenhorn, was writing this story with the full intention of it being about action, and only inserting drama out of a sense of obligation rather than out of him wanting to tell a good story.

Also, the character of Lazarus is, to be perfectly honest, a bit of a creep. He hits on women who are around 50 years younger than him, and rejects his lover's intention to be rejuvenated for no real reason than he wants to be cruel to her. This wouldn't necessarily be a problem because Lazarus is the villain of the piece, and you don't necessarily have to sympathise with him to create a good story. But the ending seems to want us to see him as a tragic character, a man who only wanted to lengthen his life-span, but ended up becoming a scorpion monster in the process. And as we've seen him as just a purely evil man throughout the story, it kind of lessens the impact of those final scenes in the cathedral.

So we're left with a story that just feels average. It tries to do good things, and some of them succeed, but some of them don't work at all. I think that my entire attitude to this story can be summed up by a quote that I remember reading from Greenhorn, where he said that his ambition for this story was to have the Doctor and Martha land somewhere, have an adventure, and then depart, essentially in the same state as when they landed. This shows, at least to my mind, that Greenhorn only had intention of writing just a science-fiction action story with the Doctor in it, and not something deeper. Unfortunately, Russell T Davies took him up on this and made him write a story that would mean something for the Doctor. But that's another story, for another day...

Day 729: Evolution of the Daleks

Ignoring the fact that this isn't technically Day 729 (I'm just calling it that to help rationalise me doing a double post today), I found the entire experience of watching Evolution of the Daleks weird. Indeed, there was one point, approximately 3 minutes in, where I was reduced to helpless laughter as I suddenly made a connection that had been festering away in my mind.

"PROTECT THE HYBRID!"

Thus speaks one of the Daleks at the start of this episode, as the Doctor makes his escape, temporarily confusing the Daleks and the Human-Dalek hybrid. The Human-Dalek hybrid was created at the end of the previous episode, initially as a means to extend the life of the Dalek by way of combining Dalek DNA with Human DNA, as humanity always seems to survive where Daleks fail. Instantly, this hybrid begins to realise the benefits of such a species intermingling, given that both are adept at waging war, with all of that anger and hatred bottled up within the two races. Two great warrior races, merged together in the heat of the moment. A hybrid.

This is, of course, the basis of the story arc of Series 9 of the revival series of Doctor Who. It supposed that two warrior races would merge to form some unbeatable enemy, and was presented as something to be feared throughout the cosmos. Instead, we end up with a man with phalluses hanging off his face who keeps on struggling with the fact that he's got feelings. This entire juxtaposition is hilarious, and represents a lot of what is fundamentally wrong with this story. There's enough foundation there for something worthwhile, but the story doesn't quite go into those areas.

For instance, the killing of Solomon could have either been used as a big dramatic moment to expose the cruelty of the Daleks, or as a dark joke, revealing the cruelty of the Daleks. Both work well to the story's message, and yet the story ends up aiming for the big dramatic moment and hitting the joke, giving the impression of a rough script. Another, even more interesting example is that the Doctor accidentally creates a new race of Time Lords when he injects a bit of his own DNA into some humans who were set to become more Human-Dalek hybrids. But the story immediately forgets about that, leaving us instead with a botched message about how the Doctor won't let another person die today, because there's been too much death. It's such a missed opportunity, and shows how good this story could have been if it had just been slightly reworked at the end. But instead, we're left with a rather poor Dalek story, that can be forgotten about in an instant.

Day 728: Daleks in Manhattan

So today, provided that everything goes to plan, the blog will have a double post. I've not done one of these in the history of the blog, but a certain opportunity presented itself the other day and left me with no other choice than to do two episodes on one day over the course of the next couple of weeks. And there seemed to be no better candidate in my mind than the two parter Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks.

Why did I want to cover these two episodes on the same day? Because, to be perfectly frank, they are pretty bad episodes, and I kind of want to get them done as soon as possible. But why are they so bad? I mean, yes there is the problem of the Dalek/Human hybrid's design, which has far too many phalluses on it to be believable, but there'e enough in this story for it to be worth watching. We're dealing with the return of the Daleks, as well as the Daleks being faced with their own twisted moral dilemma of whether they should evolve or not. It shouldn't be as bad as it is, and yet I can't bring myself to call it any good.

I think the reason why it's not great is a question of scale. Looking at the other Dalek stories, it's clear that they have something that adds to the story in some meaningful way, that just couldn't be achieved by any other race. Eccleston's Dalek stories are all about using them as a way for the Doctor to relive the horrors of the Time War. The rest of Tennant's Dalek stories are all about having already stressful situations and making them even worse. Smith's Dalek stories are about having them be the legendary foes of the Doctor, and Capaldi's Dalek stories are about using them as character studies of the Doctor himself. The one thing that connects all of these stories is that they feel big, and that only big stories are worthy of capturing the inner hatred of a Dalek. But Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks doesn't really have any of that stuff. Instead, it's just woefully generic, with even the reveal of the Dalek being a Dalek emerging from a lift, and you can't help but feel that it needed more work or more money to make the story feel more spectacular. Instead, we're left with something average, that goes as an example of how not to do a Dalek story.

Day 727: Gridlock

Gridlock is one of the most beautiful episodes of Doctor Who ever made. You wouldn't think it from looking at it at a distance, where the episode seems to be mostly set in a smog filled motorway in the depths of a futuristic city. But when watching it, the beauty comes forth and shows just how fantastic Doctor Who can be.

Gridlock is a story about people. The Doctor jumps through the motorway, meeting ordinary people like Brannigan (who, incidentally, is played by Father Dougal McGuire from Father Ted), a simple cat-person who cares deeply for his wife. There's also two elderly married women, who have been trapped on the motorway for around 20 years, and a couple who want to escape the lower levels of the city to get the best for their unborn child. But these people are trapped, blocked out from the upper levels due to some unknown force. Watching this story, you get the impression that it will just end with the Doctor freeing them and then disappearing off with Martha. But then it gets just a little bit different.

We discover that the people on the motorway were trapped away to protect them from a deadly virus that wiped out the upper city. Suddenly, the story gains just a bit more poignancy, as we see that there are no real villains, instead it's a story about humans surviving. One of the last acts of the Senate of New New York was to save people, to keep life going, even if it meant that they had to suffer hardship on the way. The story has changed tack, going from an angry Doctor, fighting to free people, to an energetic and almost joyous Doctor, fighting to finish the work that has already been started, and to free the people from their torment.

And this moment is perfectly shown as we see the heavens of the motorway, previously dark and foggy, open up revealing beautiful light. All of the people, many of whom have never seen natural light in their lifetimes, finally see their freedom. And it's beautiful to see these people survive, to see these people be freed from their sorrows. It's honestly one of the most beautiful scenes in Doctor Who, because of how it represents the continuing survival of life, against all odds. And that is, perhaps, what Doctor Who is all about.

Day 726: The Shakespeare Code

Watching The Shakespeare Code, by Gareth Roberts, my mind is immediately drawn to another piece by Roberts, The Plotters, a Doctor Who spin-off novel written in the 1990's, where the First Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Vicki have an adventure with King James I and Guy Fawkes. What makes these stories so similar, beyond their time periods, is the way in which they depict history.

Roberts' attitude to historical stories is to make them feel modern. He doesn't treat the past as some collection of people talking in iambic pentameter and wandering around in robes, instead he writes the characters, and by extension the world, as if they exist today, except with a few dialogue changes here and there. This can be seen, for instance, in the characters of Firking and Hodge in The Plotters. Both are simple cobblers, and their lives feel perfectly normal. They worry about normal things, like what work they want to be doing, making the book breathe with life, instead of just being a collection of words on a page. You can also see this in one of the opening scenes of The Shakespeare Code, where the Doctor guides Martha around Elizabethan England, points out analogues to various modern day concepts including, in what later becomes the story's best joke, global warming. This all helps the world feel alive, and turns the world of Shakespeare's London from an abstract concept that you read about in books to something that you can step into and live in.

It's a fun story, all in all, and acts as an excellent example of a historical adventure done well, where the world feels real, as if the TARDIS has really taken you back in time.

Day 725: Smith and Jones

'Smith and Jones' is thoroughly interesting because of the way in which it's set up. Acting as the first episode of Tennant's second series, it also introduces his next companion, a student Doctor by the name of Martha Jones. This introduction is handled reasonably differently to the previous companion introduction in 'Rose', and with good reason, as shall be discussed in this entry.

'Smith and Jones' is a counterpoint to 'Rose' because of the fact that it's effectively working with a different audience. With 'Rose', the assumption was made that the audience would not be familiar with Doctor Who, and so the decision was made to place the action firmly in the companion's eyes, as they discover about the series. 'Smith and Jones', however, is broadcasting to an audience that is already familiar with the series. As such, there isn't as much of a need to introduce the programme to the audience, instead the focus is placed on introducing the programme to Martha, and Martha to the programme.

A vast amount of the serial is focussed on her character, from the opening shots as we're introduced to her hectic family life, to the climactic scene as she saves the day by coming to the logical conclusion to the Doctor's plan. And so this helps us as an audience get to grips with the character; we know her strengths, we can differentiate her from Rose (Martha is a bit more intelligent than Rose, but she lacks the deep chemistry that existed between Rose and the Doctor). But equally so, it acts as an introductory story for Martha to get to grips with the sorts of adventures she can expect with the Doctor. Whilst being a basic romp, there's an awful lot of danger and running up and down corridors within it, enough to give her the adrenaline rush that accompanies the adventures that the Doctor and co. have.

So by the end of the story, you feel as if Martha is not only perfectly suited to being a companion, you're surprised she isn't one already. She's shown wit and intelligence as she's fought off the alien Plasmavore, and more than that, she's been incredibly likeable throughout the adventure. All in all, we can welcome Martha Jones to the TARDIS, and we can look forward to the next collection of adventures that we'll be having with her.

Day 724: The Runaway Bride

The Runaway Bride begins the tradition of the Doctor Who Christmas Special. Yes, there was The Christmas Invasion the year previous, but that, as the first Christmas Special, felt more like a one-off episode, an actual special as opposed to an annual event. And besides this, The Runaway Bride feels as if it establishes so much for all of the Christmas Specials that follow it.

The first major influence is its size. The Runaway Bride feels big, such as the fact that Tennant's co-star is a well known comedian in the form of Catherine Tate, showing the draw that the series has in terms of the actors it can get. There's also the climax, featuring a Christmas Star descending on London and wreaking havoc, whilst the Doctor empties the Thames into a hole reaching to the centre of the Earth, or the scene where the TARDIS chases a taxi-cab on a motorway, which makes the story feel just that bit more epic than a normal episode. And whilst precedence for the epicness was arguably set for the specials with a spaceship over London in The Christmas Invasion, it doesn't quite match the scale of what's seen in The Runaway Bride.

And beyond this, The Runaway Bride is fun. I found myself laughing uproariously at this story, even though I've heard these jokes a dozen times. Tate is a well known comedian for a reason, she has an innate sense of how to make things funny. Her delivery is impeccable, such as on the taxi cab scene, or the "pencil in a mug" moment. What's more, she has a natural chemistry with Tennant, and it's little wonder why the two were brought back together for Tennant's third series. But that's in the future. Focussing on the present, there's also the direction of Euros Lyn to consider. He acknowledges the tone of the story as comedic and heightens it, giving the story a certain broadness with exaggerated camera movements and most likely encouraging the actors to heighten their performances as well.

It all adds up to a story that feels fun to watch, and imbues it with a certain 'special'-ness that makes it sl influential for every story that follows it. Even the upcoming special, The Husbands of River Song, on the basis of the trailer, looks to be more rompy than what surrounds it. And that aspect makes me look forward both to that episode, and indeed all upcoming Christmas Specials for this wonderful series that is Doctor Who.

Day 723: Doomsday

Doomsday is about the end of a world. Not a physical world, as such, but a more personal world. It is the story of the end of the world of the Doctor and Rose.

As I mentioned yesterday, it's clear that the Doctor has been a massive influence on Rose, perhaps for the worse. And we see that so strongly here, in the opening scenes as Rose encounters the Daleks, not with a feeling of fear or awe, but instead smugness. She gloats about how she destroyed the Emperor Dalek, and how the Doctor is going to destroy every last one of them. And it's becoming more and more apparent that this is affecting her relationships with the people that she loves. Her own mother is distraught when Rose proudly declares that she's going to stay with the Doctor forever and this is rendered in the heartbreaking scene as Rose is sent off to the parallel world against her will by the Doctor, a decision made in the best intentions, but one which she rejects, jumping back to be with the Doctor, because she loves him.

And this leaves the Doctor with a dilemma. On the one hand, he has just been given the opportunity to send Rose away, let her live without his influence acting upon her; let her be safe from all of the horrors of the Universe; let her have a family. But he can't stay angry because of the energy that she brings him. Because he loves her too, and she's been a bad influence on him, but he hasn't wanted to admit it. But, in the briefest of moments, you get the sense that he's preparing himself for life with Rose for the rest of her life, as they get ready to save the Universe.

But it's clear that this will not last, and a series of events conspire to send her back to the parallel universe for good. And, to be honest, this is one of the best things that happens to Rose all series. We see her raw emotion, and all of the subtext of the series comes flowing out. We realise just how much the Doctor means to Rose, and just how much she loves him. And the story concludes with the Doctor meeting Rose on a beach, and they have a talk about what's happened. And she cries that she loves him, and he gets cut off before he can return the affection. It's the real tragic moment of this story, that we see two people fall in love before our eyes, and then they get cut off just as they begin to realise it. Even Romeo and Juliet were allowed some time to

And whilst I may disagree with the length of time over which this story arc is continued, and whilst I may have disliked the relationship between the Doctor and Rose as it developed over the past series, there is no denying that this is a powerful piece of television. And besides that, Daleks fight Cybermen in it, which, to be perfectly frank, is amazing.

Day 722: Army of Ghosts

Army of Ghosts is an episode that I continually seem to underestimate. Every time I watch it, it surprises me in a different way, whether it be through noticing a cameo of a former presenter of the Australian version of Play School, to the fact that the Torchwood Institute is built around the frightening notion of attempting to bring back the British Empire, even down to the fact that they refuse to use the metric system. But these are all hidden details in what is, at heart, a frightening story about love.

It begins with Rose and the Doctor coming back to see Jackie. But it's painfully obvious that Rose is different, she's been absorbing the Doctor's personality as she's been spending more and more time with him and falling more and more in love with him. And it's becoming worrying for Jackie, because she's seeing someone who was once perfectly normal and likeable gain all of the arrogance of the Doctor, blustering into things and laughing at the TARDIS console. There was a scene at the start of Rise of the Cybermen where the Doctor and Rose made Mickey feel uncomfortable, both in a mental and physical sense. And whilst other programmes would do the expected thing of having them develop as characters from that point, and overcome their deficiencies, Russell T Davies makes the brave decision to instead increase their deficiencies. This is seen in the scene where they are smugly moving about the TARDIS console whilst Jackie looks on with a state of worry for the people that they have become.

What Davies has done is taken the audience to the point where it's becoming painfully obvious that the Doctor and Rose need to get a hold of themselves. And whilst there are still some who see this as a touching love story, you can't help but avoid the fact that the story is still building up to some tragic event that has to occur for them. And that tragic event is explored wonderfully in Doomsday.

Day 721: Fear Her

Fear Her is relentlessly disliked. In a recent survey in Doctor Who magazine, ranking all Doctor Who episodes from worst to best up until The Time of the Doctor, Fear Her was ranked 240th out of 241. The only story that it was better than was The Twin Dilemma, which is arguably a story that helped to speed along the cancellation of Doctor Who. So that should give you some idea of how much this story is hated. But why is there so much vitriol for this story? It's a question that I've asked myself time and time again, because I honestly can't see it.

Granted, this story isn't particularly good. It's a cheap episode, and it clearly shows, given that the episode goes out of its way to avoid showing effects shots, at one point substitution the monster with a red light. Similarly, while the episode does have an interesting hook to it: being that a child can draw pictures that kidnap people, it doesn't quite work on screen because it never really follows up on the premise by looking at the people affected by it. Compare Fear Her with The Idiot's Lantern, for instance. The Idiot's Lantern quite clearly shows people distressed by the threat of people being taken away in vans to some undisclosed location, and that shows itself in some emotionally charged scenes peppered throughout the episode. For Fear Her, we get a few scenes of people looking worried, and that's that. It's a failure both in terms of the story, because it should have clearly thought about the emotional impact of what is happening and the acting, which never truly is able to convey the emotion of having children abducted on a regular basis from that street.

But the story does succeed in some areas. It does have an interesting undercurrent dealing with an abusive father, which is a very different area for the series to go into, and I feel that if this sub-plot were part of a better written story, then it would be more well regarded. Also, the 'love conquers all' ending, whilst relentlessly cheesy, is still rather fun, and whilst I may have been laughing at certain moments (the line "We did see a flash of lightning earlier that seemed to strike him" never fails to make me laugh by how understated it is) rather than laughing with certain moments, at least I'm enjoying the story. Overall, it's not as bad as its reputation suggests, and certainly not the second worst episode of Doctor Who ever (<cough> Warrriors of the Deep <cough>). It's just a bit of light relief as the calm before the storm...

Day 720: Love and Monsters

Love and Monsters is a fairly divisive episode. Some say that it's awful because it doesn't properly function as a Doctor Who story, given that the Doctor is only in it for 5 minutes, as well as insulting Doctor Who fans. Others like it for daring to do something different, as well as being affectionate to most Doctor Who fans, and only insulting a certain sect of fans such as one big name fan who had served on the programme as a continuity advisor. As for myself, I'm a bit 'meh' on this episode. I appreciate what it's trying to do, and I love that the story focuses itself on Doctor Who fans, but the story drags in certain places and the ending doesn't quite work in my opinion, notwithstanding the 'love life' joke which is amazing.

But ruminating on whether this story is any good or not doesn't feel particularly interesting to me, so I'll take a slightly different tack. Over the past couple of months, I've been catching up on some DVDs that I had lying around, including the complete set of a British comedy series called I'm Alan Partridge. It's very funny, with some excellent characters, including Michael, a fairly dimwitted and entertaining Geordie. What I wasn't quite expecting was to see the actor who plays Michael, Simon Greenall, pop up in Love and Monsters, playing an entirely different character, which distracted me slightly from the main event.

It's a common problem that I face, encountering actors across various TV series playing vastly different characters. I rushed through The Thick of It a couple of months ago, because I wanted to get it done before the new series of Doctor Who, lest the character of Malcolm Tucker would stick too clearly in the mind whilst watching Peter Capaldi's Doctor. Similarly, I'm holding back on watching the new Jessica Jones series, because David Tennant plays the villain and, whilst delivering an amazing performance, I'm afraid that all I'll see him as is the Doctor. And, of course, I can never forget seeing Guy Siner, the actor who played Lieutenant Gruber in 'Allo 'Allo, pop up in Genesis of the Daleks as one of the Kaleds, an entirely different Nazi analogue. It is for him that I name this problem, Gruber's Syndrome, where you see an actor appear in something that you recognise from somewhere else, and you can't quite disassociate yourself from the role that they previously portrayed. It's annoying, but I've learnt to live with it, and at the very least, it's meant that I have been able to develop a frighteningly large encyclopaedia of actors in my mind, just through seeing them in things elsewhere.

Day 719: The Satan Pit

The Satan Pit differs from The Impossible Planet in terms of action. The first 25 minutes or so of this episode are some of the most intense in any episode of Doctor Who. And whilst it may not seem from the outset to be intense as described, through strength of direction and writing, it becomes something truly marvellous.

It begins slowly, with a brief action sequence to resolve the cliffhanger, but immediately, the tension begins to rise with the ever-present threat of the Ood banging on the door. And just as things begin to sort themselves out, problems start to arise. The Doctor is cut off from everyone else, so Rose is left to help guide the crew-members into a basic plan to escape the Ood. They do this by choosing to go into the maintenance shafts, which is left to the absolute last second. James Strong, the director, takes full advantage of this by having a disorienting series of quick cuts, varying from the cover of the maintenance shaft, the face of Mr Jefferson (the security chief) and one of the Ood slowly advancing. This leads to the impression for the audience that the Ood are closer than they appear to be, and that makes them even more of a threat.

Inside the maintenance shafts, claustrophobia begins to set in. Everything is kept tight, and the Ood are never allowed to be too far away, in a chase to take down the people in the Sanctuary Base. Murray Gold's music keeps rising in tension, only pausing for a brief moment to allow for the sacrifice of Mr Jefferson. This brief pause is well needed, and credit should clearly go to Matt Jones and Russell T Davies, who both did writing work on this story. His death both reminds viewers that the characters are more than capable of dying in this episode, as well as providing a brief moment of quiet in the otherwise intense scene. This allows for the audience to breathe, so that the episode feels real, and not just an extended action scene.

What the moment of quiet also allows for is a jolt to bring the action back to the story. The surprise appearance of an Ood kicks the story into overdrive, ensuring that attention is kept to the story. And then, as quickly as the Ood appears, the sequence is allowed to finish with the crew-members hitting the Ood with a psychic knock-out, leaving them safe, for the time being. And after that sequence, I personally had to pause the episode and go for a quick break to breathe and recover. It's a thoroughly worrying and exciting sequence, and one of my personal favourites in the story.

But that only describes half of this fantastic adventure. I've made no real mention of the Beast, and the work that has gone into that, with all of those fantastic ideas. Nor have I mentioned the Ood in any great detail, where arguably the story's greatest idea is thrown away, only to be picked up again in a couple of series' time. But that's just because there's so much to talk about in this two parter, and so little time to do it in. It's a truly fantastic story, and one that I've been quietly looking forward to over the past couple of days.

Day 718: The Impossible Planet

To be perfectly honest, this story is not only, in my opinion, the best story of Tennant's first series, it is also one of the best stories that I've covered on this blog. It's like a black hole of a story, grabbing your attention and never letting go until the credits start to roll. And it's easy to see why.

Take, for instance, the scene that I've put above, where we see Scooti die in a rather horrific way. The scene begins with her encountering the frightening appearance of Toby, the chief archaeologist, who has been possessed by the Beast. It's handled with a degree of quietness and serenity, acknowledging the perverse beauty of what we're seeing. Like Scooti, we are drawn to Toby and his appearance, but we ultimately reject it. Unfortunately, this is where the story shifts gears slightly, and we go into a more dangerous region. Scooti tries to escape, but she is stopped, as the glass breaks and she is left to go out into the vacuum of space. The music and direction changes abruptly, reflecting the intensity of what is happening, as Scooti's screams become more and more desperate. And whilst this is a ruthlessly tense scene, what makes it powerful, in my opinion, is what comes directly after it.

We eventually end up in one of the habitation zones on the sanctuary base, with the crew-members looking for Scooti. The Doctor finds her, floating beautifully in space, in what is a truly haunting image. We then pay respects to this character, before closing the window and leaving her to drift off into the black hole. And this is what makes the story so powerful. It's based around ordinary humans who have done something stupid, who have gone out to explore a region of space that should never have existed. And it's dangerous, and they're probably going to die, but these are ordinary, likeable people, who clearly have lives outside of the adventure. And the tension of the story is exacerbated because all of these people feel real, feel as if they could be part of your life. And when they die, they are mourned, just like any other person is.

But that's just the first half of how I think this story is so fantastic. Much of The Impossible Planet is based around tension, letting the horror build until it reaches a breaking point. And we'll see that breaking point in the next entry, when we look at The Satan Pit.

Day 717: The Idiot's Lantern

The Idiot's Lantern is, quite simply, a romp. It's a fun run-around in 1950's London with no major consequences for the series ahead. And whilst it generally succeeds in being watchable, it's mostly forgettable, aside from a few brief images and concepts. So what else is there to talk about with respect to this episode?

Well, there's Euros Lyn's direction, for a start. He has made the curious decision to shoot almost all of the episode on a Dutch angle, tilting the camera to one side so that everything looks slanted and slightly unnerving. And whilst this does create a certain amount of atmosphere in the episode, it is unfortunately over-used. This ended up taking me out of the story completely, because I became fixated on the angle that the camera was on, trying to figure out when it would go back to being normal again. So whilst Euros Lyn clearly had the best of intentions with this decision, I can't help but fault him for what he did.

There's also the basic design of the episode, which feels as if it has been based on the Quatermass serials in the 1950's. Now, these are actually some rather fantastic pieces of television, filled with paranoia. But while the design of the story feels as if it wants to be part of that, having men in suits, and dark rooms with mysterious goings-on, it never quite works because the story just doesn't have the tension of the original serials, leaving this to feel like a pale pastiche of a better story.

But, despite the fact that I've been reasonably harsh on this story, I did enjoy it, and it has gone to further cement Tennant in the role of the Doctor, giving him a story where he can be the complete hero. He runs about, drops witty remarks, and saves the day whilst praising ordinary people. It's a fun performance to watch, and clearly part of why Tennant was so loved in the role, even if some of his stories weren't particularly good.

Day 716: The Age of Steel

The Age of Steel is, in my opinion, one of the few good Cybermen stories. To clarify what I mean by this, I'll just give a quick run-down of what I think of the previous Cybermen stories, in reverse order.

Silver Nemesis is very fun to watch, but the story lacks a certain depth to it. The same can be said of Attack of the Cybermen, although it is somewhat lacking in fun, but it has just a bit more depth. Earthshock is very well produced, and whilst I may not necessarily like it, I'm more than willing to give it a second chance sometime in the future. Revenge of the Cybermen is forgettable, but not bad. The Invasion is excellent, and what I would say is, up until The Age of Steel, the most recent good Cyberman story. The Wheel in Space isn't very engaging, which I can claim by virtue of the fact that I can barely remember what happens in it, a year and a half after first watching it. The Tomb of the Cybermen is a bit overrated in my opinion, but it means well, and The Moonbase is enjoyable, but not much else.

And the one story missing from that list is The Tenth Planet, the first Cyberman story. This is where we get introduced to the inner horror that is the Cybermen, that they are essentially human beings who have been converted into machines, and that their modus operandi is to go around the Universe and convert other people into Cybermen. "You will become like us" is their mantra, a frightening phrase on a certain level, provoking fear that one might lose their humanity, but still live. Naturally, this entire line of thought is barely touched upon in later stories featuring the Cybermen, and it take The Age of Steel to realise that there is potential in the original concept.

So The Age of Steel is good because it does something interesting with the Cybermen. It doesn't just make them into faceless monsters, instead it makes them into faceless monsters that used to have faces. There's heartbreaking scenes as we see ordinary people get converted into Cybermen, including the incredibly haunting scene of the bride who has become a Cyberman, and gets her emotions turned back on again, reminding us of the human trapped within that skin of metal. Indeed, the entire climax to the story is based around giving the Cybermen back their emotions, such that they realise what they have become and breakdown out of fear. In fact, to quote The Tomb of the Cybermen, you might say that they've had a complete metal breakdown.

And this all is a hallmark of what Russell T Davies is doing with the programme. He's reminding people that Doctor Who can be at its best when it is about people. It's not looking at Cybermen as scary because they're going to kill you, it's making Cybermen scary because they can be you. By taking this approach, he makes the Cybermen into a far more dangerous force, and not just second tier villains compared to the Daleks. What this all means is that through Davies and Tom MacRae's writing, and Graeme Harper's excellent direction, we have what is a Cyberman story that is actually and legitimately good.

Day 715: Rise of the Cybermen

It might be easiest to start talking about this episode by talking about something else entirely. One day I was particularly bored, with the new series of Doctor Who not airing in Australia for a couple of months, so I went on the internet and had a wander. Across my travels, I encountered a website that had a section that had a couple of links to what I thought were episode synopses of Tennant's first series. I clicked on one, and my mouth dropped open. These weren't synopses, these were the actual episodes themselves.

To put this into context, waiting for Doctor Who in Australia was a test of patience. Unlike today where simulcasts of Doctor Who episodes occur every Sunday morning, back in 2006 we had to wait around three months for the episodes to arrive here. In that three months, I'd spoil myself mightily by reading synopses, watching clips, and playing online games based on the episode. So to come across new episodes of Doctor Who, available online for my viewing pleasure, was perhaps the most shocking discovery I ever made. In the spur of the moment, I watched New Earth first, which I enjoyed. I also watched School Reunion, and Rise of the Cybermen, before guilt got the better of me and I stopped watching online, preferring to wait for the broadcast (incidentally, guilt did not prevent me from looking up spoilers, and it would take around four more years for me to watch an episode without being spoiled beforehand. But that's a story for another day.)

So when I think of Rise of the Cybermen, my thoughts don't necessarily drift towards thinking about parallel worlds, or the fact that the cliffhanger reveal of the Cybermen is rendered weak by the fact that Cybermen had been a fairly large part of the marketing for that year. Instead, I think about sitting down in a chair in front of a computer and gleefully watching a new episode of Doctor Who. Nothing can take that thrill away from me, and I'm glad that I can still have it every time I sit down for something new.

Day 714: The Girl in the Fireplace

My Mum hates The Girl in the Fireplace with a deep and unbridled passion. Last night we had a wide ranging discussion of her hatred of this story, which seemed to revolve around the fact that she felt that the clockwork droids were underused, she felt that the plot was too complicated and that she has a strong dislike of Arthur, the horse. Now, I'm quite fond of this episode. It's not the best of the series (we'll get to that in about a week or so), nor is it Steven Moffat's best written work or Euros Lyn's best directed work (I have to be honest and say that his best directed work, Children of Earth, is outside the scope of this blog, but it is truly marvellous), but I do rate it highly. So I am forced to start this on the defensive, to defend this story from those that would attack it.

So I should perhaps begin with the plot. It's fairly basic, to be honest. Over the course of 45 minutes, the Doctor, Rose and Mickey land on a spaceship and discover that clockwork droids are attempting to steal the brain of an 18th century French aristocrat, Madame de Pompadour, when she turns a certain age, the age of the spaceship, and steal her brain so that they can repair their spaceship. So the Doctor and co. embark on a wild race to try and find her at that age, to stop the droids from killing her. But that's not the point of the story. The point is instead looking at the Doctor and Madame de Pompadour as they fall in love, but whilst it's over a long period of 30 years for Madame de Pompadour, it is only a couple of hours for the Doctor. It's an interesting commentary on the role that time travel has for the Doctor, where he can meet people and flash forward through their lives, while they are destined to take the slow path and settle down. It means that relationships can flash by in an instant for him, whereas they're eternally long for others. It's quite heartbreaking to realise at the end that the Doctor has missed her death, of natural causes, because of a foolish mistake he made in the heat of the moment. But that's the curse of the Doctor, as he never settles down to take the slow path.

Now, all of that said, I will admit that there are some issues with the plotting of the story. It's clearly structured as a love story, and yet it's completely done and dusted within 45 minutes. It literally feels like one second she's kissing the Doctor, the next, she's in a hearse being led away from Versailles. It means that the full flow of the story doesn't quite work, but that's a small problem in an otherwise excellent story.

Moving on to the clockwork droids, their design is excellent. It's a visually arresting thing to see their masks ripped off to reveal some clockwork beneath them, like examining an antique cuckoo clock. They're creepy as well, their masks looking not quite human, and yet the time period that they're in means that they don't look out of place. And, aside from that, there's a fantastic jump scare in this episode that caused me to give off a very manly scream. So I'm inclined to reject the notion that they're not effective as monsters, and instead I should say that I think they work rather well.

And as for the horse, it's completely worth it for the exchange

"What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

"Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Try to get some perspective!".

So, in my opinion, I think that The Girl in the Fireplace is an amazing episode of Doctor Who, and I look forward to watching it again. Unfortunately though, I know that it will never be that way for my mother, who instead has a bizzare love of The Lazarus Experiment...

Day 713: School Reunion

This episode, within the first 5 minutes, has Physics and chips. And if that isn't a summary of my 3 years at The University of Newcastle, then I don't know what is. But that's just one brief element of how School Reunion speaks to people, reaching into their past and finding things to talk about. And, perhaps more pertinent to most people, it revolves around the return of Sarah Jane Smith and K9.

Their return is clearly an attempt to play on nostalgia, for these two characters are two of the more beloved companions in the series' history, with Sarah Jane's era coinciding with one of the more popular times in the show's history while K9 proved to be a cultural icon, much like the Daleks or Cybermen, entering into the culture of the world around him through a mixture of a good performance, a good design and good writing. And their return is fun to watch, as we see that Sarah Jane never stopped investigating strange goings-on, while K9 is still able to defend people against alien threats. And the story focuses on that return to a certain extent, reminding the audience of the old times with the Doctor and letting them go on one last adventure with him.

But where the story fails, in my opinion, is that it decides to throw in a stupid sub-plot for Rose. Rose is now jealous of the fact that the Doctor has travelled with other companions, because she was under the impression that she was special. So she decides to make things difficult for both the Doctor and Sarah Jane because she's so blind as to not see that one day she will leave the Doctor and they will both move on with their lives. It's an annoying character trait and does not endear me to the character of Rose at all, nor does it endear me to this Doctor as he, in a way, encourages her, creating a 'special and perfect bond' with her that continues to make her feel as if she's the only companion that's ever going to travel with him. It's a sour note on an otherwise fun story, and one that unfortunately will continue across the series to come.

Still, on the plus side, "Forget the shooty dog thing" is one of the greatest lines of dialogue in the history of Doctor Who.