So when we last left our insipid heroine, she was locked in an F-grade horror film- I mean basement, and the door mysteriously locked itself. Now I’ve recovered from laughing, let’s move on.

Rose continues on in Dead Before Credits tradition by calling out “is someone mucking about?” Come on, lady. Don’t you know that’s like the ringtone on the Grim Reaper’s pager? True to form, as soon as she moves past some dummies, one moves with an incredibly loud squeak. Alerted, she turns, and the Auton peeks out of the shadows. It’s probably just me here, but does anyone else mentally hear the Auton speak with the voice of that Scottish guy from The IT Crowd when it leans over?

“Hullo there!”

Rose is determined… to be a blonde body statistic of the movie’s villain, it seems, as she continues to spout classic lines blondes inevitably loose in this situation, including old chestnuts “You got me, very funny” and “Right, I got the joke”.

“Who’s idea was this, then? Was it Derek’s?” Oh please God, Doctor, PLEASE appear and save us from pointless references to characters we’ll never see, let alone care about. The Autons start surrounding her, with Rose insistent on getting every blonde cliché in the book into this scene by tripping over backwards. Luckily RTD has at least some sense in not having her scrabble away on the floor like the thousands of her predecessors have done since the dawn of the slasher movie. No, instead she begins getting up, and teleports about a foot away. Why does she not use this power of bad editing to escape? Maybe she can’t teleport through walls or something.

Meanwhile, the Autons make sure to remind people that this is in fact Doctor Who, as one raises it’s arm to strike… and stops for a few seconds. Luckily, the Doctor makes use of this particular Auton’s politeness by teleporting next to Rose, grabbing her hand and exclaiming “Run!”. Did he just come through the door next to him? I think that’s what they’re implying. If so, is this incarnation Sam Fisher? How did he pick/sonic the lock and get through without making a sound? If it was already unlocked, why didn’t Rose use it? Oh right, so we can have the Doctor revealed dramatically and have him and his companion run from monsters down a corridor.

Oh yeah, and the Autons, previously only reaching zombie-like speeds, can now run. Why do you ask?

Welcome back, Doctor Who. It’s like you were never gone.

In another little strange moment, we see more Autons in cages. No, you read that right, cages line the walls of the corridor. Of course! It all makes sense now! Wilson really WAS the CEO, and he kept his office in a dank power room in the basement so he could perform his sick, twisted experiments on these poor creatures in secret! I freaking TOLD you this was the opening to a crap horror film that RTD made into the start of a Doctor Who episode!

“Help… us…” “Pfft. Me? help you? What do you take me for, some sort of doctor? Ha! Eat my dust, suckas!”

They escape by way of a handy elevator, but an Auton loses an arm trying to stop them. Uh, as far as I know, elevators are specifically designed NOT to do this. They open again if there’s something in the way, and don’t exert enough pressure to do anything even if they did close on something. Even Roland Emmerich, director of horrible effects movies, knew that having a baby Godzilla be decapitated by the lift doors would be stupid (and lose that all important 12 rating). But never mind, these are Movie Lifts, they can smash through the roof and fly if the writer feels like it.

“You pulled his arm off!” Rose exclaims. Really? That’s your first query? With everything else going on, that’s the one you ask first? Granted, that’s a good question, but that should be wa-a-a-ay down the list.

There then follows a scene in the lift with not much point other than to sow the seeds of acceptance in the Doctor’s mind that this girl might make a companion. Thus, I’ll skip it. One thing that should be said, however, is that RTD proves here that he CAN write ‘Doctor-ish’ dialogue, but only when the Doctor is being ‘enigmatic’. I put ‘enigmatic’ in quotes because there’s quite a difference between what Russell says is enigmatic and what enigmatic actually means. In this one scene, and in a few scenes following, we see the Doctor actually act like the Doctor we know, not RTD’s Doctor.

Oh yeah, and we finally establish who Wilson is! “Chief Electrician.” THEN WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT’S HOLY DID THE DOOR SAY- You know what? Fine. Whatever. Let’s just roll with it. My brain won’t hurt so much that way. The Doctor, however, quickly mentions that Wilson is… dead? No… it can’t be… Not Wilson!

WHY, GOD? WHY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y?!

Rose doesn’t immediately respond with a well-deserved “WHAT?!”, like one of those tiresome human things would do, but instead stands there gawking. In fact, does anyone else notice Billie Piper was prone to leaving her mouth open in the early days? Sure, it’s nitpicking, but honestly, it gets distracting.

"DU-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U…"

So we finally see our first use of the Sonic Screwdriver! Yay for Plot Cavity Insulation! However, in a strange turn, when the Doctor uses it to short-circuit the panel, there’s a subtle crappy Photoshop effect on the panel just before it explodes. Why is this never seen again? Because it was a bad effect, of course! Why do you ask?

Rose finally starts asking the more important questions mentioned earlier, such as who the Doctor is and what the Autons are… once the Doctor is moving quickly out of earshot. Luckily he hears her, and as RTD needed to explain just what the flying fudge is going on, the Doctor kindly info-dumps information that will never be addressed again beyond this scene. He’s here because apparently there’s a relay on the roof controlling the Autons.

Several questions spring to mind.

1) If he was heading to the roof, why was he in the basement?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 6

2) What importance was Wilson? How did he die if the Autons only came alive moments before the Doctor met Rose, and the Autons were still moving at zombie speed? Did he tell the Doctor where the relay was?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 7

3) Where did the Doctor get the bomb from? Did he build it himself? Did he find it? What?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 8

4) What point did this info-dump scene have other than to establish the Doctor’s personality? Granted, it does it pretty well, but why do it when the character is only going to morph into the angsty I’m-the-only-one-left-woe-is-me guy who has nothing to do with the character established in both the original series and this scene?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 9

Run for your life indeed.

“And with this bomb, that I managed to pull out of my ass…”

I get it, all right? I get it, RTD fanboys and girls. This is meant to be an introduction told from the viewpoint of one of those countless incidental characters that were caught up in the Doctor’s adventures and were hastily dropped when their purpose was served. It’s a nice idea to start off the story in medias res, but I’m sorry, it just comes off like the adventure we should be following is going on elsewhere while we’re stuck with this boring shop attendant and her unbelievably annoying mother.

As Rose looks on from the street, the roof explodes… and then the top floor windows explode a few moments later. Wait, what? How does that make any sense whatso-

HOLD ON JUST ONE COTTON PICKING SECOND! As if the bomb cloning itself wasn’t bad enough, I just noticed, it’s been all of five minutes since Rose took the lottery money (whatever happened to that, by the way? NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 10), and it went from this:

Late afternoon…

To this:

...the middle of the night?!

Come on, BBC Wales, that’s Ed Wood level stuff. FREAKING ED WOOD LEVEL, PEOPLE!

So Rose quickly runs from the blaze, running past- oh, hang on… Yep, excuse me a moment…

HOORA-A-A-AY!

Right then, now that’s out of the way… Actually, wait a minute, is it just me or does the TARDIS still have 80s era windows? No, seriously, compare them to the rest of the series. I literally did a double take between the image above and the Flight Control TARDIS on my shelf. My God, they’re not even trying, are they?

We’re only one episode in, and the series already has basic continuity errors. Be afraid, people. Be very afraid.

So we return to the Tyler flat-

PLOT POINT!!!

…indeed, as we hear Rose’s mum speak all of one line before we’re already hoping she dies horribly. Sadly this isn’t a bad horror movie any more, it’s Doctor Who now. Great timing, asshole.

Mickey, the aforementioned boyfriend, enters, and immediately starts fawning because he thought Rose was dead. Yes, her mobile was off and the shop she worked at exploded (apparently) hours after sundown, long after working hours, and this guy thinks she was caught in it. Yes, really.

“What was it, though? What caused it?”

“I wasn’t in the shop, I was outside. I didn’t see anything.”

“Debbie on the end. She knows a man on the Mirror, 500 quid for an interview!”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! Give it here…” *hangs up*

“Well you’ve got to find some way of making money. Your job’s kaput and I’m not bailing you out.” *phone rings* “Bev? She’s alive! I told her! Sue for compensation, she was within seconds of death!”

And not to mention totally understands what we watch Doctor Who for! (No, not THAT kind of stroke, you perverted people, you.)

Blah blah blah, more not quite realistic banter…

…more unsubtle foreshadowing…

…more crap I don’t need to talk about. NEXT SCENE!

Crash zoom into an alarm clock. Rose wakes- Oh crap IT’S STARTING OVER IT’S NEVER GONNA END AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Oh, wait, RTD just liked that whole scene so much he wanted to repeat it. Or maybe it’s some huge metaphorical meaning that’s too clever (read obscure) for anyone other than RTD to figure out.

“It’s like poetry, they rhyme.”

Shaddap, George Lucas! Go back to ruining Star Wars! Actually, no, DON’T go back to ruining Star Wars, dammit!

Hilariously, even Rose’s mum can figure this scene has no purpose, and calls the show out on it. Ah, the wonders of Lampshade Hanging.

As if we didn’t already have enough pointless domestics, we get another scene where nothing is said of any importance and nothing is accomplished. Half the scene is just Jackie hammering the compensation idea home even more, when it had already outstayed it’s welcome in the last scene.

“Arianna got 2000 quid off the council just ‘cause the old man behind the desk said she looked Greek! I know she IS Greek, but that’s beside the pont.”

Russell T Davies’ best attempt at satire, ladies and gentlemen! I hope you enjoyed it!

*snore*… *snore*… *snort* "Wh- huh- whuh?"

The sound of a cat flap fluttering echoes through the room. Rose goes to go check it and- JUMP SCARE AAAH!- oh crap, NOW you take us back to the bad horror movie, RTD? Well, screw you. Screw you hard.

No, not like- Oh, forget it.

Thankfully this seems to be just a sentence or two of the horror script that got mixed in here, as the cat flap opens to reveal the Doctor, who then gets pulled into the flat by Rose. There, he and Jackie share the one funny scene in the entire RTD era:

“I’m in my dressing gown.”

“Yes, you are.”

“There’s a strange man in my bedroom.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Well, anything could happen…”

*smiles* “No.”

You know the funniest part? It could go anywhere! Literally, the sound clip of that last line could be put in so many great places. In fact, go on, try some yourself, I’d love to see what you guys can come up with. No, really, I’m telling you, go out there and take any scene from anything, and add that last line to it. It’s a great way to pass time for a movie buff. Here, I’ll even start you off:

“Marty! You gotta come back with me!”

*smiles* “No.”

“Play it once, Sam, for old times' sake.”

*smiles* “No.”

“Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mister Cowboy?”

*smiles* “No.”

Or, if you want to get a little more obscure:

“I’m going back to the Matrix, and I want you to come with me.”

*smiles* “No.”

But, my personal favourite is:

“Oh, Rhett! Where shall I go? What shall I do?” “Quite frankly my dear…” *smiles* “No.” (Yeah, I don't have Gone with the Wind on DVD. So sue me.)

Just because it makes no sense. The more nonsensical the better, so come on, show me what you’ve got!

Now though, the post:

Russell T Davies: Bond Villain

Ah, Russell T Davies. What can you say about him? He’s possibly the most controversial behind-the-scenes figure in Doctor Who history. On the one hand, he took a long dead TV series and turned it into one of the BBC’s biggest hitters. On the other, he writes stories that, while appearing to be perfectly good stories on the surface, completely fall apart when given any level of scrutiny. Then factor in Doctor-worship, his story-trumps-rules approach or convoluted finales to add to the list of weaknesses. Hell, let’s not even talk about his overuse of gay or bisexual characters to make a Star Trek-esque statement on acceptance of different sexual orientations. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a noble goal, but when almost every story has a male or female character mention in passing they have a partner of the same gender, it gets extremely irritating.

But, what of the early days?

Before we proceed, I have a confession to make. I’m ashamed to say, yes, I was one of those people who only joined Doctor Who fandom with the new series. You may commence the vegetable pelting and/or burning at a stake constructed from copies of The Writer’s Tale. Quite frankly, I think I would have been a Who fan from a young age had Doctor Who been on. It is true, I was one of that lost generation who never grew up with Doctor Who. I do recall catching what I can now identify as episode one of The Silurians, and quite enjoying it, and Daleks – Invasion Earth 2150AD was one of those taped-off-the-telly videos that was often picked when it was my turn to choose a movie for the evening.

With that said, and back to my earlier question, what of the early days? Sure, by Series Four the RTD-ness was through the roof, and even RTD himself admitted by the end it had descended into fan-fiction territory (can you imagine what a fifth RTD series would have been like with The End of Time preceding it?). But let’s go back, to when Christopher Eccleston was THE Doctor. I remember Rose’s initial transmission, and 14-year-old me quite enjoyed it. Surely jaded, cynical 2010 me wouldn’t be able to tear it to shreds? And surely, if this proves popular enough, I would never be able to go through the entire RTD era, ripping up each episode? Surely not.

PROTOSS DRAGOON VOICE: It begins...

With that said, Rose! And don’t worry, I’ll stop calling you Shirley. Boom, boom indeed.

So we start with the now obligatory pan-to-Earth-then-crash-zoom-shot (so obligatory, in fact, even the Mofferator couldn’t dispose of it), and end up uncomfortably close to an alarm clock, which goes off. Here, we meet Rose Tyler, who I’m sure will be completely incidental to the plot since, you know, the episode is named after her and all.

I should explain a basic law of good film-making here: it’s called the “Show Don’t Tell” rule. Here, we see it used very effectively. There’s no dialogue here besides mundane platitude, yet we are told all we need to know about Rose Tyler. We see her room in a state of disarray, clothes left everywhere, showing that she’s not organised and even lazy, implying dissatisfaction with her life. We see she’s still living with her mother, giving further motive for unhappiness with her lot. True, it’s stereotypical and basic, but at least she’s not a shop attenda- oh, she is? All of this is conveyed in a dizzyingly short amount of time, and despite conveying a clichéd image, it conveys it well. I would credit this to the production team as a whole, but given RTD’s fondness for quick info-dumps and even the cardinal sin, expositional voice-overs, I’ll chalk this up to the director.

Sadly, even this early we see RTD’s trademark lack of grasp on ‘real’ characterisation. We see a montage depicting her usual day, and so we need to see the kind of thing she’d do at work. What does RTD have her do? Put a bag down on a table. Seriously. Because that’s what shop attendants do, isn’t it? Shuffle bags around? Right?

The World As Seen By Russell T Davies

To be fair, it’s not clear whether this was scripted or if it just said ‘some business occurs’ and the cast and crew just improvised, but there’s plenty more to complain about. For example, have you ever been in a store where the staff dress casual? Where are the uniforms? The black shirts? Anything? What, is this Dress Down Friday or something? Never explained! In fact, since we know in hindsight how RTD’s plots have more holes than a Twilight novel would if I possessed a firearm:

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 1

We see her fool around with her boyfriend, Mickey. Again, because that’s what real people do, right? I’ve… got nothing. Honestly, I wanted to make some sort of witty statement about this unbelievably fake, plastic (Boom boom!) sequence, but I just draw a blank. Whether it’s that bad or that good, you decide.

The day ends, and Rose tries to leave the store, but is stopped by the bouncer/security guard/whatever. He gives her some lottery money in a bag. She psychically deduces that she is being asked to hand over said bag to someone. Why is this person still working if they’ve won the lottery? Is it some sort of charity thing, like in the Catherine Tate Show Christmas Special? What is this other than an excuse to have Rose run into the plot?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 2

So Rose heads on down to the basement. On the way down, there’s this weird shot I can’t quite explain. It’s very quick, lasting only a brief moment, but in the middle of the short elevator descending montage, we see Rose screwing up her face for no reason. What IS she doing? Is Billie Piper nodding off? Did she just realise how big a plot hole the lottery money bit was, and was unaware the camera was rolling? Is she trying to blow up the lift doors with her mind?

NEVER EXPLAINED! COUNT: 3

"Must... suppress... urge... TO KILL..."

She reaches the basement, and calls out for some guy called Wilson. We know his name is Wilson not only from the fact Rose shouts it out around three hundred times during the next minute, but also the fact that she walks up to a door with his name on it in idiot-proof lettering. It truly is sad that even something as small and inconsequential as this door can be picked apart. First of all, it claims this Wilson is CEO. Do all heads of management have their offices in ass-smelling basements? Maybe, I desperately try to rationalise, it’s some sort of joke, the kind bored shop attendant drones would play. All right, but why is it actually on the sign? Wouldn’t it, you know, NOT confuse your audience to have it written in red marker pen or something, so we can actually tell it’s supposed to be an office joke and not give the impression that the highest ranking person on the entire staff works out of the basement? Point two: what about the electricity warning sign? Are you compounding the fact that the manager lives at the same level as the cleaner with having his office in a fucking transformer room? Again, if this is some sort of incredibly weak joke, why not have it in crude marker pen to alert your viewers to this fact?

You know what? I just figured it out. This was supposed to be like the executive floor, with Rose delivering the money to her manager’s swanky office, but they couldn’t afford to shoot there, so they just transferred the scene into the basement, and didn’t bother with things such as making sense of the change. No wait, I’ve got it, someone with an ounce of intelligence pointed out that there would be no way that there would be any plastic dummies on the executive level, and RTD just said “Move it to the basement! There’d be plenty of them there, smartass!”

NEVER EXPLAINED COUNT: 4

Four counts in as many minutes, and that’s counting both the name sign and the electricity sign as one. Be afraid, people. Be very afraid.

Even doors can fail in an RTD production!

So Rose does what any blonde would do when left alone in a creepy basement, and wanders around, shouting all the time, alerting any supernatural force/psychotic axe maniac/whatever crap monster the Sci-Fi Channel can render in cheap CGI this week of her presence. But then, oh but then… see, RTD apparently started writing a shit horror movie, and only after a page or two did he remember he was supposed to be writing Doctor Who. How do I know this? Because he rushes out as much exposition about Rose’s life in as short a montage as he can think of, then puts her into a creepy basement on the flimsiest of reasons, then, and I’m being deadly serious here, the only door out (excluding the elevator, which she never thinks to use until the Doctor arrives) shuts and locks FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON.

NEVER EXPLAINED COUNT: 5

Excuse me, I have to prevent myself from dying with laughter.

"I'll be damned before I become a Dead Before Credits in some horror movie!"

You people and your fast computers… It’s just perfect for you, ISN’T IT?! Runs like a dream… No worries… But you don’t know, man! You weren’t there!

You weren’t there…

Y’know, I wish someone else would review these games. I really do. As I mentioned in City of the Daleks, my 2005 laptop just isn’t built to handle a 2010 game. So, I have to sit through the opening titles for three minutes (I timed it), because it advances frame by frame every other second. I have to sit in total silence, watching the opening credits in ultra-slow-mo, for three full minutes. That may not seem like a long time to you, but trust me, it’s an eternity.

But no, it’s up to me and my craptacular PC to enter hell once more.

Once again, the screenshots have rendered a busy cursor that wasn't there originally, as well as not rendering things that were...

So we start with a skidoo-riding man, and the oh-so-subtle framing informs us that this man is called Chisholm. He blabbers dementedly to himself, as he flashes back to being part of an archaeological dig in the Arctic Circle. Of course, being Doctor Who, they find something.

What could it mean?

Then, in quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve seen in any game, Chisholm parks his skidoo next to a sheer drop, and gets off on the side facing the drop. This is bad enough, but then, for absolutely no reason other than convenience, suddenly loses his balance and falls off. What. The. Crap.

Well, I can't see anything that could go wrong here...

First of all, why park it right next to a cliff? Sure, he’s panicked beyond rational thought, but good God man, if you’re conscious, basic survival instincts should still be working! And why, oh why, does he fall off? Yes, he’s on slippery ice, but the animation doesn’t suggest he misplaced a foot or anything, he just sort of bends over backwards and forwards like a bloody Looney Tune and falls off.

Meanwhile, back down Memory Lane, Chisholm holds up his discovery: a Cyberarm! DUN-DUHN-DUUUHH!

Oh, come on. At least with the Daleks there’s a tradition of having the appearance of a Dalek played up as a dramatic twist in stories with the word “Dalek” in the title, but now we’re pulling this stunt with the Cybermen too? Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a recurring feature?

So after the (THREE FRIGGIN’ MINUTE) titles, the TARDIS picks up a SOS call. Such a thing is so common, the TARDIS was nice enough to grow a special light to indicate incoming distress calls when it rebuilt itself in The Eleventh Hour. That was nice of it.

For no reason other than plot convenience, however, the TARDIS does not materialise at the source of the signal, established later as the GSO base, but in an ice cave which I assume is miles away from the base, as Chisholm would no doubt try to hide as far away as possible. Why? DON’T ASK QUESTIONS, YOU STUPID CHILD! JUST PLAY OUR GAME AND ENJOY IT, GODDAMN IT!

Actually, come to think of it, wouldn’t the story be far stronger without the pre-credits sequence? Think about it. It begins with the TARDIS picking up a mysterious SOS. They arrive in an isolated ice cave in the middle of the Arctic Circle, miles from anywhere and with no-one to help them if they got into trouble. Then, they come across an abandoned skidoo, with the rider fallen off a cliff, sprawled across the ice about a dozen feet below them. They revive him, and he babbles incoherently about some deadly force killing his comrades. Wouldn’t that be a much better opening? As it is, the opening only presents more unanswered questions. For example, how did the skidoo even get into the chamber? We see in the opening that the skidoo drives through an opening in the ice (well, it drives towards the video game equivalent of a matte painting, but you get my point). Then, when the TARDIS arrives inside the chamber, there’s no way to get outside. Why not? Surely they’d be nice enough to explain this? I think you give this game too much credit.

Speaking of the skidoo, examining it presents the titbit that it contains a working winch. Well, there’s a piece of information which will in no way be used know what I mean know what I mean wink wink nudge nudge say no more.

Also, in a rather hilarious blunder, Amy complains that she can’t go with the Doctor to rescue Chisholm because she’s in heels. A fair complaint, except SHE ISN’T WEARING HEELS. SHE’S WEARING THE SAME OUTFIT SHE WORE IN CITY OF THE DALEKS TO SKIMP ON BUDGET, WHICH DEFINITIVELY DOES NOT INCLUDE HEELS. IT INCLUDES EVERYTHING BUT HEELS. ALSO CAPS LOCK.

Our next ranting tangent continues on the theme of Amy’s costume. I can take the Doctor surviving the Arctic in a tweed jacket, we’ve established down the years that the Doctor is much more resistant to cold than humans, but Amy is an ordinary human. If you were wearing a mini-skirt in the Arctic, you’d lose your legs to frostbite pretty quickly. So, why no horrific amputation scenes? The Doctor explains “The TARDIS should keep you safe”. Oh, right. Thanks. You know, the movies based on The Next Generation gave us some doozies in the One-Line Hand Wave Explanation department (including perennial favourites “The moon’s gravitational field obscured our warp signature. The Vulcans did not detect us” and “Even holographic bullets can kill”), but even they weren’t this vague and non-committal.

The Doctor climbs down a series of ice blocks, each spaced equidistant from each other and in nicely descending order (how fortunate). It seems this was pointless, however, as Chisholm survived the dozen foot fall onto solid ice with nothing but a slightly sprained foot that is quickly forgotten about at the start of the next level. No medical attention required, all that is needed to revive him is some water. Go figure.

But how to obtain this water? Well, the answer is immediately obvious. Take one of those canteens with the top chopped off (a Something Caddie, I can’t remember exactly what it was called), melt some ice with the Sonic (Insulating Plot Cavities since 1968!), and give it to him. I then spend several minutes running around the room, looking at every last stalagmite to see if the game would be willing to let me use some ingenuity for once, but no. I come across a stream. That’s what you’re supposed to use. And yes, you take the water in the flask, and heat it with the Sonic. Marvellous.

Then… the Doctor gives it to Chisholm. Behold:

ACTUAL DIALOGUE FROM THE DOCTOR: Let's get something warm inside of you...

Oh dear God, the RTD era is infecting the Doctor! Aaah!

Quickly moving on, being knocked out conveniently knocked the crazy out of Chisholm, and he duly follows the Doctor… slowly though, as his should-have-been-lethal made his foot owie. The Doctor attempts to get Chisholm into the TARDIS by winching him up the cliff using the skidoo’s winch (gasp! I totally would not have called that!) and a rope that was handily placed exactly below the winch. Did it fall off the still operational winch somehow, or is it just lazy level design? You decide!

You may not be able to see in this screenshot, but directly above that rope...

...is that skidoo with the winch that works. I wonder...

Speaking of poor level design, we move onto the icing on the cake (pun not intentional), as we move on to a platforming section. Of course, this being The Adventure Games, it’s as simple as walking up to the next platform and left-clicking. But, there’s a twist! Chisholm’s mildly injured foot! Well, maybe I can call him over, and then gently lift him by the armpits up each-

Oh wait, I forgot. This is the spiritual descendent of point-and-click adventure games. There is no using of brains or imagination here, there is one solution AND ONE SOLUTION ONLY.

Wow, that block of ice looks like it would fit perfectly into that gap. I wonder...

Yes folks, that’s the solution. Push a block of ice that just happens to not be frozen into the floor or the wall, as well as being perfectly sized to fit the gap between you and Chisholm, and, by an act of God, pushing in exactly the right place with the exact amount of force needed to get it into the perfect place to let Chisholm across.

In the next area, there’s yet more gaps to be crossed by running at them, butting against an invisible wall, and left-clicking so you-

Something pops up. In the split-second it’s there, I read “Avoid falling through the gaps” as I sprint towards the next invisible wall. Wait, what?

What ga- AAAAAHHHH!

AAIIIEEE! Thump.

Are you frigging real? All through both the last game and this game so far, you’ve established that you cross gaps by approaching them, walking against the invisible wall and left-clicking, then making sure that when you move in a straight line for any period of time you start sprinting, why in the name of everything holy do you put in an instant death drop disguised as a gap, then warn you of that fact two feet from the edge when you’re going to be sprinting towards the drop? Why, to give people who haven’t played the game before a hard time, of course!

After a reload, I find a standard 3D platforming trope before me. You know the one, there’s a sudden, sheer drop, there’s a platform floating back and forth, you jump onto it, it takes you to a non-moving platform, you jump onto that one, and then you wait until a second moving platform moving perpendicular to the first one’s path comes to take you to the next section of the level. Easy. If you don’t have a five-year old processor desperately trying to keep up, meaning lag, lag, lag. Oh, and remember how in most platformers it’s usually some weird, unexplained floating platform, like those creepy faces in the Catacombs in the Emperor’s New Groove Action Game (now THERE’S an Adventure- sorry, Action Game I’d like to do a Let’s Play of!)? Yeah, here it’s just blocks of ice breaking the laws of physics by swinging back and forth. I’d accept it if there were blocks of ice floating back and forth in a pool of water, hell, I accepted traversing a stream of lava by riding a blueberry (don’t ask) in Rayman 2, so why gravity-defying… Oh, forget it. The more I nitpick the longer this is gonna take.

So despite that, I make it across without incident. But what about Ch- Oh, come on! He’s got a sprained ankle, not a freaking disability! Why the hell do I have to provide wheelchair access for just walking across platforms that connect with each other before politely carrying you across? Oh that’s right, because the AI is thick. Luckily, there’s another platforming trope nearby: a very tall object handily placed right next to a gap which, when knocked over, bridges said gap. How wonderfully pointless.

Maybe I could use some string from my pocket to create a kind of pulley system with th-

Oh right, just push over the bridge-maker. Fine, be that way.

By the power of plot convenience, the force of the block of ice falling smashes the wall of ice between you and the TARDIS. Going back to when you first revive Chisholm, there’s a line of stalagmites blocking your path. Then, when you attempt to winch him up, the skidoo falls and conveniently (seriously, this should be a drinking game. Take a shot every time something convenient happens) smashes them, allowing you passage onwards. Now we see the exact same thing again. Railroading your players into staying in one spot to make them help the AI assistant through is not good level design! If you must ensure the player doesn’t abandon their compatriot, have the way open, but have the player character stop and turn back when trying to go that way, with thought text saying something like “I can’t leave Crappy AI!” or whatever. Don’t just have the action you take to help your ally cause the way forward to magically appear. Use your thoughts, designers! I know you’re not being paid very well, but come on.

Arriving back to Amy and the TARDIS, Chisholm suddenly reverts to crazy mode, and conveniently (*glug*) knocks himself out. How? By tripping over. Yes, really. Why? The script said so.

My only wish is that the game would flash something like that up for real.

Taking the Sat-Nav from the skidoo (makes sense that a skidoo would be installed with one, so that isn’t plot convenience), the Doctor takes it and Chisholm into the TARDIS, saying he’ll fix it.

Wait a minute, a device-fixing mini-game? No. OH PLEASE GOD, NO!

Oh, thank Christ. It’s just a retread of that fuse box mini-game. You know, the only one that was actually fun. Phew.

After rewiring the Sat-Nav, it somehow gives out co-ordinates for Chisholm’s home base. How? Why would Chisholm have the co-ordinates for the place he’s running AWAY from typed in? Wouldn’t that mean the Sat-Nav should have been screaming “MAKE A U-TURN! MAKE A U-TURN!” all through the opening scene? Okay, maybe it’s set as  “Home”, many Sat-Navs have that feature, but do many Sat-Navs list the co-ordinates? Longitude and latitude? You know, stuff that the TARDIS would need to land at the base? I don’t seem to remember seeing that kind of thing on any Sat-Nav I’ve seen. Whatever the excuse, it would have been nice to have some clarification from the actual game, instead of having to waste a paragraph speculating on how to fill in the plot hole.

Even Matt Smith didn't react well to seeing the game's beta.

So they arrive at the GSO base. Amy, upon looking over the Arctic base, lampshades over the ripping off of The Thing. The Doctor retorts whether she means the John Carpenter/Kurt Russell Thing, or the Thing with the giant carrot. You see? This is what I was talking about when I was discussing the MTV Movie Awards. If you go out on a limb and reference a movie that’s not ultra-popular at the time, then you make the nerds like me who know about them feel smart and people who don’t won’t care- oh wait, you didn’t get to see that post. Never mind, as you were.

Thanks to the magic healing power of Plot Convenience, Chisholm manages to revive himself in time to give some more babbling before being attacked by a Cybermat. Yes, Cybermats. Hooray for continuity and all that. He claims he is now one of them, and runs off. Well, I’m sure that’ll be the last we see of him, then.

Upon knocking on the door to the base, it magically opens for the Doctor. Inside JUMP SCARE BOOGAH BOOGAH BOOGAH is a Cyberman dressed in what looks like overalls. A more unintentionally hilarious image has not been seen in Doctor Who since the Vervoids. Who opened the door? Was it the Cyberslave? He was standing a few feet from the door, and seems too dumb to have done it. Maybe you clever people who completed this game are thinking that scientist did it. If so, why is she surprised when- look, if I nitpick every single plot hole here I’m still going to be here next year.

"Drat! I've been foiled by the power of LOVE!"

How do you defeat a Cyberslave chasing you? Why, run around the level like a maniac looking for something that you can interact w- I mean fiddle with some valves to make a blast of steam come out of a vent. Why does this incapacitate the Cyberslave? STOP. ASKING. QUESTIONS.

I assume this was because I just barely caught the Cyberslave in the blast, and therefore was further forward than the animators expected, but when the Doctor reaches down to get the Cyberslave’s old security card, he literally pulls it out of the Cyberslave’s posterior.

Cue extremely uncomfortable image in 3... 2...

Anyway, we’re now inside the base and… hey, why are you bending over? Oh crap, not a stealth scene! Thankfully no, the one Cyberslave in the area never moves, so you don’t have to deal with it. However, you do have to sneak around a Cybermat that doesn’t see you despite being within literal spitting distance. Whoopee.

After scaring the Cybermat away with the Sonic (there’s a drinking game rule for both these games and the series in general: every time the sonic screwdriver solves something), you find it was guarding a laptop. How did it know to guard this lap- WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT POINTING OUT PLOT HOLES?!

"It looks like you're searching for plot! Would you like some help?"

As it turns out, there’s nothing important on the laptop to guard. Or is there? As it turns out, the leader of the base decided to not only choose the most obvious pass code imaginable, her daughter’s birthday, but also left that information on a laptop in a store room that anyone can get to. Go figure.

Uncanny Valley Scientist Lady is about as impressed with the game so far as I am.

So we meet the scientist who left such a big impression on me that I totally remember her name. She exposits the backstory, the Doctor exposits that the Cybermen come from Mondas- wait, WHAAAAT?!?!?!

Are you telling me that these Cybermen obviously modelled after the Lumic Cybermen are actually Mondasian Cybermen? Wh- I don’t even know to begin! Where- the… AAARGH!

I'm sINgiN' iN ThE rAin... jUST SiNginG In tHe rAIn... whAt a GLorIOuS fEeLiNG...

So if you survived your brain aneurysm, the Doctor heads into another store room that was not open before and conveniently opened for no reason (*glug*). In there, they find the gizmo transmitting the distress signal. The Doctor postulates that if he can fiddle with it, he can create a Cybermat-zapper.

*sniffs* I smell contrived Plot Convenience! (*glug*)

No… OH, PLEASE GOD-

Phew, false alarm. What you have to do here is get one sine wave to cover the other by fiddling with these controls… With these controls…

WITH. THESE. CONTROLS…

I literally tried every single button you see here, and none of them did a single thing. I should have seen this coming, I guess. The game barely works on my creaky old system, so it was only a matter of time until something didn’t work that was required to proceed. So, with a heavy heart…

#Regrets, I've had a few... But then again, too few to mention...#

Wait a minute, that means I don’t have to play this barely functional game anymore.

I’m free!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

At least Matt Smith was brilliant

Well, the finale has come and gone and the season has finally reached its end. It was a good run, and overall I was blown away at how much better this series has been than the ones that preceded it. Our own Luke Pietnik just posted his thoughts on the finale, and gave it an overall stellar review. His review expresses sentiments similar to those I’ve heard elsewhere. But I’ll be honest: the finale left me cold. At first I felt like the only person in the universe who didn’t like it, but eventually I found a few who shared my objections.

I have been trained thanks to years of spectacular RTD disappointments to keep my mouth shut regarding my dissenting opinions, so I really don’t feel like going into it myself, but thankfully there were others who summed up my objections pretty well.

Freddie Dalladay writes in his review:

The episode itself was pretty disappointing, for many reasons.

Let’s start with the escape from the Pandorica. I thought it was too easily done – an alliance of the Doctor’s greater and lesser foes collaborating to build a device to detain the Doctor and he escapes via Rory and the Sonic. That rather throws doubt on the abilities all the enemies. Are the Daleks and Cybermen really that dulled witted to be thwarted so easily? They’re supposed to be his greatest enemies, not some effortless twaddles who can be danced around by a plastic Roman with a Sonic Screwdriver!

[…]

Moffat rather disappointed me with this episode. The Pandorica Opens was a work of genius, The Big Bang in comparison was a weak imitation of Moffat’s sublime works.

And in the discussion thread for the episode on my forums, my friend RV is even less forgiving.

The TARDIS exploded, and then it didn’t, through the magic power of tears. There’s also the fact that the Doctor managed to escape from the Pandorica with the assistance of his own, post escape, self – yet for this to be even remotely possible, his post escape self would have had to have escaped the Pandorica without a future Doctor’s help, making the fact he helped himself escape sort of pointless because if he escaped without his own help at first, there would be no point in having to help himself escape. Not to mention that this was a deus ex machina of RTD proportions.

Then the only explanation we get is a bit of lampshading, and they move on to the next non-issue. The peril River Song is put in is resolved in three seconds by the vortex manipulator device, then Moffat aimlessly creates more time paradoxes to fill in time before conjuring up a magic power for the Pandorica and “sacrificing” the Doctor. Then the Doctor is saved by tears. You know the last movie I saw that in? The Pokemon movie.

Unless Moffat explains a living shitload of what the fuck just happened, I’m pretty sure I’ve entirely lost faith in his ability to run the series. He built up it all so well, and then created an anticlimax so anticlimactic it probably created a bigger crack in the universe than the exploding TARDIS. RTD’s finales were dumb. Moffat’s was pointless.

All in all, it was a dud of a conclusion to an otherwise brilliant run. There were still problems throughout, and as Mr. Dalladay suggests in his review, I would have liked to have seen a Moffat/Smith era making the initial return of the series, free of lingering influence from RTD in terms of format and scale, but for what it was, it was a substantial step up on virtually all counts. I just hope next year we get a decent finale to bookend it. (Remember the good old days when a finale was just another episode?)

I think one of the key factors in the success of Big Finish Productions’ output is the quality of the writing. Every story the company produces seems to be lovingly polished and worked into a tight, presentable product, helping along the rest of the production process. Those guys have always pushed the envelope, delivering rich stories with unconventional plot twists and characters. The Doctor Who Unbound range is a case-in-point. Each of these stories presents a possibility that is interesting because of its desire to be unpredictable and brave, taking us out of our comfort zone.

I’d agree with the sentiment that Big Finish have always seemed to champion in this respect: You might as well risk being met with criticism for being original and daring rather than churning out predictable, stale stories. Yes, we get the fan favourites (Daleks, Cybermen, Ice Warriors, etc.), but they never just retread the ideas surrounding these well-established characters. Whenever another story which features the Daleks is released, the team always try to make them do something different. They are always pushed in a new direction, or have an impact on the story in a way they never have (Brotherhood of the Daleks springs to mind).

As a student specialising in sound, I also appreciate the quality of the productions Big Finish puts out. The sound design and editing of these productions continues to inspire and excite me. I often find it quite hard to pick apart the soundscape, asking myself how a particular effect is created, which is a credit to the skilled editors who do work for Big Finish. I find myself cringing at explosions or violent death, shivering at the sound of an icy breeze, or recoiling in fear at the scream of a Dalek in battle.

Big Finish have added a new under-layer, they have expanded the Doctor Who universe, which could often seem quite narrow on television, particularly during the 1980s. In particular, Colin Baker’s Doctor has seen significant development over the years, making him more likable, accessible and providing the rationale behind his brash persona and, indeed, dress sense (have a listen to The Sandman). He seems to be the favourite Big Finish Doctor, his tremendous acting able to punctuate through that brash, colourful coat and into the audio receptors of our brains. Not that the other Doctors are bad, of course, it just seems as though Colin has found his medium to shine as the Doctor. It’s almost as if the TV version of his character was a foundational blue-print that would later be justified by the audio dramas.

On a more personal level, having recently acquired an iPod (we don’t all have the money!), Big Finish Productions have relieved the monotony of so many long bus rides. I live a little while out of the town centre, where I study, and not being able to drive, busses are usually the only option for me. I hate busses, and so my only source of relief has been the world of Doctor Who. It’s the best kind of escapism, and is sometimes quite strange, to be sat above a throbbing diesel engine whilst listening in on the Good Doctor’s exploits. There is one, very slight, negative side-effect of listening to such thrilling adventures on the bus. I often miss my stop.

So, I thank you Nick, Barnaby, Jason, David, and anyone else who has ever been involved with Big Finish, for injecting a little space and time into the mundanity that often plagues me.