Day 751: Journey's End

Provided that you ignore 5 minutes of Journey's End, you're left with what is actually one of Russell T Davies' best finales. It fixes the majority of my problems with The Stolen Earth, and whilst it still has some mild problems, it's fairly easy to overlook them in the grand scheme of things.

The mild problems generally revolve around the Tenth Doctor clone (henceforth referred to as Handy Doctor) that was created with Donna's input. Coming completely out of nowhere, it doesn't entirely work as a resolution to the cliffhanger, making the audience feel just a little bit cheated as a result. Also, I'm not entirely happy with the fact that the tragic ending of Doomsday is entirely undone thanks to this clone of David Tennant that pops up out of nowhere to go off and have the sexy times with Rose (this also relies on the fact that people have forgotten that it's not an exact clone of David Tennant, it's also got some genetic input from Catherine Tate. Which could be useful, I suppose). But whilst I can nitpick this, it does work in the overall insane atmosphere that permeates through Journey's End. And also, it does give a magnificent Three Doctors joke courtesy of Captain Jack Harkness, which is a personal highlight of mine for this story.

Another highlight is the scenes featuring Davros, as played by Julian Bleach. The character dances as a villain for the Doctor, pointing out all of his failings as a character, such as his arrogance and his double standards of hating the army yet managing to turn all of his companions into his soldiers. The scenes also provide the much needed stillness that I was yearning for in The Stolen Earth. The extended running time of this episode allows for the Doctor and Davros to simply sit down and have a conversation of their various positions, which helps make the story just a little bit more palatable in my opinion.

So, at the end of the day, we're left with a story that, despite its flaws, is still ridiculously fun and one of my favourite finales from the Russell T Davies era. Except, of course, for one small thing.

I mentioned before about how I said to ignore 5 minutes of Journey's End. Those five minutes represent one of the most uncomfortable and frankly sadistic moments in the history of Doctor Who. Donna has partially merged with the Doctor, absorbing his mind. However, the mind of the Doctor is too big for a human and so it is threatening to kill Donna. So the Doctor does what the Doctor does. He wipes away her entire mind and all of her memories of their time together, effectively killing the woman that Donna had become. It doesn't feel like the right thing for the Doctor to do in that situation. Instead of letting her die as the wonderful woman that she became, he instead sentences her to the fate worse than death of making her forget everything that they did together.

And this isn't the only time that this has been brought up in the series, but in each of those times it was dealt with far more intelligently than it was here. In The War Games, for instance, the decision is taken out of the Doctor's hands for Jamie and Zoe's minds to be wiped. It works within the context of the story because it's being given to them as a sort of punishment from the Time Lords for travelling with the Doctor. The Doctor's hands are nowhere near this decision, and he feels just as heartbroken as we do that this injustice has occurred. So that's an argument previously present in the series to say that this sort of thing should be seen as heartbreaking on behalf of the Doctor. But one could argue that the Doctor does feel heartbroken over this action that has been forced upon him. So we need further evidence within the context of the series.

Enter Forest of the Dead. River's death scene is made all the more interesting because she does it willingly on behalf of the time that she spent with the Doctor. Despite the Doctor's protests of how time can be rewritten, she only responds by saying that her time with the Doctor can't be rewritten, and that she wants to die with those happy memories that she shared with him, rather than live and not remember. It presents the argument that the Doctor shouldn't have interfered with the memories of the companion, and that the companion should have really died rather than have someone else meddle with their lives. It also introduces the aspect of choice, that River, and by extension Donna, should be the one to choose their fate, and not the Doctor. It all looks towards putting the ending of Journey's End as something really quite uncomfortable.

Now, there is one last episode that is worth mentioning here, which is of course Hell Bent, the series finale to Capaldi's second series. However, I don't necessarily want to get ahead of myself with respect to the blog, so instead I'll just leave this here, and link forwards to that episode when the time comes. So, I suppose we'll just have to end on a cliffhanger for the moment, and pick up again later...

Behold, a cliffhanger has been resolved!

Day 750: The Stolen Earth

The Stolen Earth is an episode that I've personally got mixed feelings about. On paper, the episode feels remarkably fantastic, but as broadcast the episode doesn't quite work in some areas, while wholeheartedly succeeding in others.

I think that where the episode's key success is is in its scale. The invasion of Earth by the Daleks feels as epic as it ought to, with the Earth being subjugated in a ball of fire and mayhem, all kept to within the time limit of around 10 minutes. It all makes the Daleks feel impressive and as if they're a powerful force that could feasibly destroy the Earth. Also important is the presence of the large supporting cast, with companions from throughout the Russell T Davies era taking part, making the event feel just a little bit larger than normal episodes would.

However, both of these points also work to the story's disadvantage in my opinion. The Daleks, whilst they feel epic, don't have any real menace behind them that would make them truly frightening. Think, for instance of the silent "Exterminate" scene in The Parting of the Ways, where the tension of Lynda's oncoming death continues to rise, and is then subverted, giving the Daleks the sense that they enjoy the sensation of playing with their victims before they kill them. There's no real scene of that nature in The Stolen Earth, instead the Daleks feel like soldiers going out and killing instead of the truly malevolent creatures of hate that they truly are.

Also, whilst having a large supporting cast is fun, it also makes the episode feel just a little bit crowded. For all that I love the conference call scene in this episode, especially the flirting between Captain Jack and Sarah Jane, I can't help but feel that there's just a little bit too much going on in too short a space of time for my liking. The episode needs a point of stillness within it, where the characters can just breathe and talk about what's happened. There are moments that are like that within the episode, such as Martha meeting with her mother but they all are part of some greater scene where action is being taken, which doesn't totally work in my opinion. Although I will say in the story's defence that the scene where the Doctor and Rose meet again is actually fantastic, and was everything that I was looking for within this episode.

There's also the cliffhanger, which is probably one of the best in the series' history. The regeneration works because it not only represents the oncoming death of one of the series' main characters, the Tenth Doctor, but it also shows takes all previous 'certain death' scenarios featured in cliffhangers by providing an easy way to show that this really is the Doctor dying and there is no way out for him. That is, unless something completely ridiculous happens to lend a hand and get him out of that situation...

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 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.