I can imagine this all began with a sense of complacency at some point during the run of Stargate SG-1, which lasted an impressive ten years. It’s been a while since I’ve seen much of SG-1, but I think the complacency started to set in around season 8. Richard Dean Anderson took a back seat on the show and everything started to stagnate, sometimes feeling like the show was not really going anywhere and possibly overstaying its welcome.

This complacency really shows when they decided to overthrow the Goa’uld, the primary enemy of the series for eight years, and invent the Ori, an entirely new enemy never seen before, all the way in the show’s ninth year. In hindsight, this seems a little cocky of them considering they were moving on a year-to-year basis and didn’t have any assurances that they’d be coming back. In the two years that they did get with the Ori, things moved too slowly at first, were never ultimately very satisfying, and then were rushed to get the story to its conclusion.

Impulse led to Claudia Black joining the main cast of Stargate SG-1

But this was a case where the producers had a little too much fun writing for the character. Mix that with a positive experience working with the actor, and what do you get? Bringing the character back for an extended “arc” that just won’t end at the beginning of season 9, and adding her to the main cast lineup in season 10. In my opinion, this just shouldn’t have happened.

But the real, dangerous levels of impulsiveness show their face during the run of spinoff show Stargate Atlantis. Let’s be under no allusions here; I loved Stargate Atlantis. I thought it not only lived up to its parent series but in some ways surpassed it. But the producers were so flippant regarding the cast and ultimately the entire series that it died a premature death.

Only half the original cast will make it through the end of Stargate Atlantis

Then, the real warning sign: the abrupt departure of Elizabeth Weir (Torri Higginson), leader of the Atlantis expedition. I don’t know the entire behind-the-scenes story here, but I do know that they decided to end Torri Higginson’s contract early for some reason and just kick her off the show. (I also know she seemed pretty bitter about it, and the impression I get is that she has every right to be. It’s like the producers saw a newer, shinier toy and just couldn’t drop Weir fast enough.) As with Ford, the door is initially left open for the character’s return, but it soon becomes clear that the producers have no intention of making anything of it and both characters are quickly killed off for good.

The producers then think “Hey, you know what might be fun? Let’s bring Samantha Carter (Amanda Tapping) back to be the new leader of the Atlantis expedition.” Sounds crazy, right? Well, somehow that’s exactly what happened. I love Amanda Tapping and her character, but she was completely the wrong fit for the show, and it took several episodes for it to not feel completely bizarre to have her on Atlantis at all. Even by the end when she’d fully settled in, it seemed like she was playing an entirely different Carter than the one we’d seen for years on SG-1.

Eventually Amanda Tapping decided to leave and pursue her own show (Sanctuary), which is fine and dandy, and I’m actually kind of grateful because I will always feel that she just wasn’t right for Atlantis (at least not in a leadership capacity). They then brought Robert Picardo in as Richard Woolsey, and I actually like Robert Picardo and have no objection to him being brought in as Carter’s replacement. I think he started pretty strong and left a positive mark on the show overall.

Stargate Universe: the producers' latest impulse

Both Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis have been promised a future in the form of direct-to-DVD movies. Stargate SG-1 is perfectly suited to its new periodic movie format, I feel, because there’s no room left for character development. Just give us a few new adventures and we’ll be happy. But Atlantis, on the other hand, sadly doesn’t feel ready to be made into a series of movies at this point, because movies don’t allow for the kind of character development and story arcs we would see in the series if it were still running—developments that are still fully ripe for exploration.

There was one quote in the Joe Flanigan interview that really told me all I needed to know about where the producers of Stargate currently stand:

I unfortunately have not talked to any of the producers and the writers at all. I don’t think they really made any attempt to reach any of us… [and] that’s a little weird. Because you’re like, “I’ve just spent five years with everyone.” And then suddenly you don’t hear from them at all. So it’s weird.

They got tired of you, Joe, and that’s the sad truth. You stopped holding their attention, and so they let go of you, and right now they’re just not in a hurry to look back.

Atlantis feels like it was killed off in its prime, when it had at least another year or two of life left in it (and quite possibly more). The producers just grew tired of it, because a shinier toy appeared on their horizon in the form of Stargate Universe. And while Stargate Universe has certainly started strong, I can’t help but feel just a little bit worried about the future of the Stargate franchise if the producers’ attention span is allowed to remain so short.

The very key to its appeal lies in the fact that it is unremarkable. It’s functional; it’s sleek and not at all garish. I’m already picturing in my mind the various bits of merchandise we’ll be seeing in 2010, marvelling at how great the logo looks on those DVD covers and action figures. It is basically a re-working of the 60s logos, with some of the metallic sheen that the TV movie version had. The emblem, I can only assume, will become the new Doctor Who watermark, an identifiable badge, if you will. I’m all for that, if only because it’ll look nice on the book spines

So let’s go on the obligatory trip down memory lane. Both 1960s logos were very simple, naturally. They employed sharp, white lettering, arranged one word above the other.

Moving into the 70s, the introduction of colour breathes new life into the same design, this time with a nice green hue. Following that, for Jon Pertwee’s last season, the now-famous diamond logo was introduced. This continued through the majority of Tom’s tenure.

Greeting us with synth effects and starfields in the 1980s was a new, bent glass emblem, made up of one continuous strand. This was used throughout Peter Davison’s 3 years. This was altered slightly for Colin Baker’s term, being distorted somewhat.

In came McCoy, and with him the first computer generated logo. I despair. Still, it seemed to go with the feel of the show at the time, and continued to be used on various bits of merchandise.

The TV Movie logo was a reworking of the one used during Jon Pertwee’s first 4 seasons. It was very influential, considering the film stood alone and ran for a mere 85 minutes. It is still around on a lot of the classis series merchandise.

The new series logo was a rather bold step in a completely new direction. It was often likened to the illuminated signs you might see atop the roof of a taxi. I rather liked it, and still do. In a way, I’m sad it’s going, really.

It’s an established tradition that each new production team put their mark on the series, and I think the Moffster and his gang have certainly done that, quite literally. The evolution of the Doctor Who logo in the past has inspired both insatiable joy and utter despair. This time around however, it seems not to have generated either. I think Steven should be proud of that.

LP

This story marks one of the few occasions during the period on which factors during the production generally gelled. Ben Aaronovitch’s script seems to nail not only the Doctor’s characterisation, but that of most of the other characters, too. There’s a depth to the narrative, an undertone of darkness and manipulation that is sadly misplaced during the course of Ben’s season twenty-six story, ‘Battlefield’. Much like many of the worst Doctor Who stories, ‘Remembrance’ is the product almost of a series of coincidences. The environment in which the series was produced during the late 1980s was rather confused and hap-handed. However, on occasion, the production team would create something marvellous.
The pre-titles sequence, for a start, is genius. Combined, the image of the ship looming over Earth and the famous, historical sound bites create an extremely effective atmosphere. Again, it’s a shame about Keff McCulloch’s incidental music, but he does his best, and it seems to compliment the action throughout the story relatively well.

Most of the regular cast perform well, Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor being particularly mysterious and manipulative. He also acts as a great foil to the military-minded Group Captain Gilmore, played by Simon Williams. His character seems to mirror that of the Brigadier, a fact referenced in the story itself. Also strangely familiar is the rather erudite Dr Rachel Jensen, who bears a resemblance to Jacqueline Hill’s Barbara Wright from the good old days. The whole adventure is laced with nostalgia, references to Omega, Zygons and indeed the Totter’s Lane junkyard being just a few. Despite these ties to the programme’s past, Ben Aaronovitch is successful in moving the story along at a fair pace, allowing them to underpin the plot to some extent, but not inhibit its progress.

While many of the sets resemble soap opera environments, they help to reinforce the reality of the 1960s setting. Alongside the earthly sets, there are also those of the Dalek shuttle and mother ship interiors, which beggar belief. Considering the limited budget and studio space available, these are remarkable constructions. What’s more, the imperial Daleks look right at home, standing at their posts.

It’s often said that it was a mistake to put giant spheres beneath the bases of the Dalek props. I’d have to agree on that. The sight of a squadron of renegade Daleks wobbling along the cobbled roads of London is not a menacing one. However, they aren’t overused in this story, and it’s great to see them trundling around on earth again after such a long time. The reveal of the first renegade Dalek in episode one is nicely done also, adding an extra dimension to the story at the right moment.

The factional war between the imperial and renegade Daleks during this serial takes a story strand which had been prominent throughout the Davros ‘arc’ and develops it. The conflict reaches its climax, acting as an illustration of the Daleks’ ultimate quest for superiority, and also alluding to racism that was still existent in 60s Britain. Aaronovitch really does well with this concept, building on loose implications from previous stories in the show’s recent past.

If nothing else, this story shows us what Doctor Who of the 1980s could have been like, if it had been taken better care of. As it is, ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’ stands out amongst most others of its era as a true classic.

Onto the special features, and something that, rather reassuringly, hasn’t changed. There is no new commentary on the special edition DVD, but the original track is one of the best. Sylvester and Sophie still have a real rapport, and it never becomes tiresome.

The Two main documentaries on this release are very well put together. ‘Back to School’ has lots of interesting anecdotal and behind-the-scenes insight into the production, and also pays tribute to Dursley McLinden, who sadly died well before his time, in 1995, aged just 30. ‘Remembrances’ is also interesting, and looks at the references to past adventures within the story. Ben Aaronovitch’s contributions are fascinating, and explore how he played around with this mythology.

A documentary chronicling every Doctor Who story featuring Davros is also included, on the second disc. Not everyone will be unfamiliar with ‘Davros Connections’ though, it having previously been included on the Davros box set. It is initially interesting, but is a little thin and seems to skirt around numerous details. In the end, it is informative but a little dissapointing.

The deleted scenes and outtakes packages are fun to watch, as are the multi-angle sequences. They have thankfully been corrected and work properly, unlike the multiple-angle feature presented on the 2001 release. Also noticeable is the new 5.1 surround sound mix, which helps give a greater realism and grandiose to what takes place on-screen.

Once again, I appreciate dearly the continuity announcements, which I hope will continue to be included on as many DVDs as possible. The photo gallery is a usual but brilliant addition, presented better than on the original release. Also welcome are the Radio Times billings, available to view as a PC DVD Rom. Having only watched a short section of the production subtitles, I cannot fully appraise their content, but what I saw showed that a lot of research, care and attention went into them.

Sylvester McCoy’s era is often looked upon as undeniably bad. However, with twists and surprises, a great story and some brilliant casting, ‘Remembrance’ mourns the passing of so many pre-conceptions about both Sylvester McCoy and 1980s Doctor Who. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

LP

The latest Torchwood offering, Children of Earth, has been something of a mixed bag. In typical Russell T Davies fashion, the main story involves a catastrophic event affecting the entire world all at once, which is directly witnessed by virtually everyone in the world. Gone are the small scale stories of old; as RTD is so fond of pointing out, no one in this day and age could possibly care about a story unless it strikes close to home, right? In this case, all the children of the world begin speaking a single message: “we are coming.”

Day One

In the first part of the miniseries, Jack and Ianto pay a visit to a “neighbor” who has died in a local hospital. One of the doctors there, Rupesh, follows them out after observing some suspicious behavior and alien technology. Apparently this is enough evidence for him to label them as Torchwood, which apparently now “everyone talks about.” So much for Torchwood being a secret agency whose real function is unknown even to the police and government types. Honestly, how hard can it be to keep a three-man team secret? Especially with retcon at their disposal. RTD always has to fall into the same trap of carrying the whole “hero mystique” thing too far with all his main characters; first the Doctor, now Torchwood. The mystery itself is contrived, not earned, and then shoved down your throat at inappropriate times.

Anyway, Jack tells Rupesh that he’s never heard of Torchwood. But wait—what’s that engraved on the side of the SUV you’re sitting in at this very moment? Hmm… must be a coincidence. Jack’s just a closet Doctor Who fan who sat in his bedroom coming up with anagrams of Doctor Who that he could engrave on his SUV. Yeah, that’s it. And when Rupesh later tries to track down Torchwood, he is able to find his way directly to their top secret underground base of operations, because apparently when you ask about Torchwood, people just point towards the bay. Good thing the location of Torchwood’s secret base is such common knowledge, or Rupesh may have had a real problem tracking Jack down again.

Throughout the episode, we’re presented with an array of bog-standard RTD characters who spew bog-standard RTD dialogue. (Admittedly, these characters become much better developed as the miniseries goes on, but in the first episode they are positively cardboard-cutout RTD characters.) Frobisher and Dekker are notable exceptions, but I think that might just be down to good casting. One of RTD’s biggest problems is his inability to write convincing character dialogue. RTD’s dialogue always involves enigmatic repetition for emphasis. In general, people simply do not sound like this. He writes his character dialogue as though each character is fighting to be the narrator of the story, pausing and repeating certain things for dramatic emphasis, instead of just being one player within the story. The way you make an unbelievable situation believable is through character reactions and dialogue, and this is perhaps RTD’s greatest weakness. Failing to create convincing character reactions means that you also fail to make what they are reacting to believable.

Another frustratingly annoying RTD trend is the overuse (and often misuse) of certain words in his character dialogue. A few of the examples that jumped out at me throughout Children of Earth are “clever,” “brilliant,” “proper” or “properly,” ending sentences with “though,” and exclamations like “oh my god.” While I’m on this track, two other annoying trends that I’ve noticed are characters introducing themselves with their full name and then other people using the person’s full name in their response (“Good luck, Lois Habiba”), and characters introducing themselves to others as though people care about them or want to know who they are (“Lois Habiba, I just started today, I’m helping out with things,” etc.). Essentially this amounts to the common trend of writing people to be overly self-important.

Another thing that, while minor, I also have to call out is RTD’s ridiculous overuse of deadlocks. This is a concept that can’t be killed off soon enough. It was created because the sonic screwdriver on the new series is so ridiculously overpowered that it can do virtually anything, even things far beyond locks and electronic devices. Someone came up with the deadlock seal being the “only” thing that a sonic screwdriver could not break through. Anyone see the problem here? Now that the sonic screwdriver has something to stand in its way, and apparently nothing else is able to defeat it, it needs to start being used everywhere. And boy, has it been. Now deadlocks are everywhere, overused to the point of ridicule. The solution to this is to change the sonic screwdriver’s behavior back to how it was on the old series, where it was only occasionally a viable solution to a problem, and it certainly did none of the crazy crap that it does on the new series like, according to Wikipedia, “deactivating [a plastic] Auton arm; detecting and sending signals, intercepting teleportation; remotely activating processes inside the TARDIS; burning, cutting, or igniting substances; fusing metal; [and] scanning and identifying substances.” I mean, come on. How do you not get how ridiculous all that is? It’s a high-frequency buzzing screwdriver for god’s sake.

Later in the episode, Clement McDonald smells that Gwen is pregnant, which Gwen goes back to the Torchwood hub to verify. She does this by placing her hand on a Canon flatbed photo scanner. After the Torchwood computer system makes a lovely PDF document of her hand, it is able to tell her that she is, in fact, pregnant, because there is a glowing red dot inside of her. Then Jack places his hand on the scanner, and after Adobe Acrobat makes another pass, Jack then finds out that he has a glowing red dot in him as well. Gwen and Ianto prepare to congratulate the happy father when they realize that this red dot is apparently a bomb instead of a baby. (Gwen might want to double check hers at this point.) Ianto then somehow works his magic to figure out that the bomb has two minutes left on the timer and that it will affect a one-mile radius. Jack originally plans to run out of the base and jump into the bay, but then decides it would be more fun (and profitable) to start taking bets on how much of the Torchwood hub he could destroy by staying inside of it. The resulting explosion promptly wipes out all of Torchwood’s assets along with Jack’s brother, who was presumably still chilling in Torchwood’s cryogenic stasis chambers at the time.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Day Two

Suddenly, John Fay comes in and hits the ground running with episode two, which is immediately more captivating and credible than RTD’s first episode. Fay begins by expounding upon the concept of a shady government coverup aimed at eliminating the members of the Torchwood team for nefarious reasons. Fay’s character interaction and dialogue are unrivaled throughout the miniseries. Everything comes together almost like a work of fine art in Fay’s script for episode two. He clearly understands the show and its characters very well. The scene with Gwen and Rhys conversing over a bed of potatoes, leading to a traffic incident because of stopped children, fills multiple roles perfectly and is surprisingly effective. It’s such a minor thing, but that scene jumped out at me almost above all else because of how perfectly everything just worked.

Fay’s style is the precision instrument that counters RTD’s sledgehammer. The plan to pose as undertakers and claim Rupesh’s body to get to Jack was not only clever, but perfectly integrated with the plot of the previous episode. We finally got to see what would happen to Jack in the event of an extremely violent death, like an explosion. The resurrection was handled in a very real way. It was also pretty smart to try and trap Jack within a block of cement, though naturally it wasn’t going to hold him forever. This episode established Lois as a much less annoying character than she was in the last episode, and also a substantial asset. The dialogue of all the extras also stood out as feeling very real; everyone felt like a real person, particularly the checkpoint guard and Corporal Camara. There was also a lot of well-placed humor too. I think this was perhaps the most consistently enjoyable episode out of all of them.

Rating: 5 out of 5

Day Three

The third episode is the most mixed of the middle three, which makes sense considering the mixed writing. I happen to think that James Moran is a good writer, and I’ve enjoyed both of his previous contributions to Doctor Who and Torchwood. However I did notice some RTDisms bleed through into what I assume to be a mostly Moran-penned script. The first thing that jumped out at me is the excessive and overly dramatic international TV broadcasts, which is a steadfast pillar of RTD scripts involving worldwide catastrophes.

The episode begins with the Torchwood team setting up shop in a warehouse that was previously used by Torchwood 1 before the Cybermen decided their services were no longer required. The warehouse itself felt similar to the one the Doctor, Jack, and Martha set up in during “The Sound of Drums.” The scene where they inventory everything they have on them in order to figure out what to do next is also very reminiscent of that episode.

The idea of turning Torchwood into a band of thieves was very entertaining, though I thought the dialogue from Gwen used to set the idea up felt very much like it came from RTD. Still, in practice, it was a great series of scenes, and it got Torchwood what they needed to continue their work. Really, the only areas where the episode felt mixed were towards the beginning, and it got to be much stronger by the end.

This episode marked the entrance of the 456. The 456 were frankly awesome. For the most part, they were handled in what I call a “classic Doctor Who” manner. For one thing, they had a completely alien physiology, but even better than that, we never got to fully see it because they were hidden from view behind a dense fog. I also loved their use of language and the timing of their responses. It was not only a realistic approximation of the translation from their language to ours, but it also achieved a level of intimidation which helped them to become more menacing. I also loved the contrast between the cold, calculating voice and the random lashing out of the creature inside the glass. It gave the 456 an air of unpredictability and made them more frightening.

I also liked how the 456 used the children during and after their arrival. It seems they almost had a sense of humor, deliberately making every child in the world point towards where they were arriving and preventing Britain from being able to keep it relatively quiet as I’m sure they would have preferred (despite how annoying it is to have the entire world being alerted to this event in the first place). They certainly understood the value of intimidation.

It was also nice to see the Torchwood contact lenses make a return. I’m all for the return of previously established technology; it’s always better to bring something back than to invent something completely new just for that episode. It was rather convenient that they happened to not be in the hub when it was destroyed, but at least it was explained, so it all works out in the end.

Finally, this episode sheds light on Jack’s involvement in the first visit of the 456 back in 1965. I thought this was a great twist; very dark, yet entirely in keeping with Jack’s character.

Rating: 4 out of 5

Day Four

Episode four is another masterpiece from John Fay. While not as consistently strong as episode two, this episode has the benefit of dealing with some extremely dark and gripping morality issues, the discussion of which was both realistic and compelling.

The first thing we get a closer look at in this episode is the situation Jack found himself in back in 1965. I loved how this scene played out; Jack was chosen for this job not because he could not die, but instead because he would not be weighed down by morality issues which would have most likely stopped anyone else from completing their assignment. Dark, yes, but also perfectly in keeping with what we know of Jack’s character by this point in time.

I also really liked the original contact humanity had with the 456. It was a fascinating angle to portray the species from, and made them seem extremely interesting. They came along out of nowhere and offered the human race an antivirus designed to defeat an up and coming virus before it had a chance to deal serious damage, and in return, all they asked for was twelve children. It seemed unthinkable, but ultimately it was the right choice under the circumstances and the deal was made. The 456 also claimed that the children would be going off to paradise. The entire 456 angle was well-portrayed and extremely mysterious, which made it all the more intriguing.

When we returned to the present, Gwen and Ianto had a chance to react to this revelation from Jack’s past, which served to illustrate how morally driven they both are. It was especially interesting to see how uncompromising Ianto was in his morality, telling Jack flatly that he should have stood up to the aliens and accepted nothing less than saving those children from their fate. This also sets up for Jack’s remorse later, when he decides to pay the 456 a visit and tell them they’re not getting what they want this time.

We also got a small taste of what exactly happened to children collected by the 456. This scene was another that was very well-handled; the 456 are asked what exactly they want the children for, and their response is simply “come in; bring your camera.” It was very creepy and effective to see the 1965 child still alive and conscious (albeit with physiological alterations), being used by the 456 for a purpose they would show but not tell.

Perhaps the best part of this episode was the discussion between the Prime Minister and his staff concerning the practicality of giving the 456 what they wanted. The science fiction backdrop allowed for a very real and chilling conversation about the ins and outs of actually capitulating to the 456 and handing over the children from a practical perspective, which I imagine to be at least somewhat reflective of how humanity would react if such a crisis were real. They discussed everything from where the children would be taken to how best to sell it to the public, as well as the obvious aspect of how to decide who would be selected. It was a terrifyingly real scene because of just how seriously everyone was taking it. The writing was superb, and each character was convincing in expressing their views. I don’t think anyone could have out-written John Fay here; he was truly on the top of his game.

Also, I totally recognized Nick Briggs from the first moment he was on screen, which amused me greatly. I wasn’t completely sure it was him until he had a line, but once he opened his mouth, all doubt was removed.

The episode ended with Jack and Ianto using Lois to record the Prime Minister’s earlier conversation to hold as leverage against him, allowing them to enter Thames House and speak directly with the 456. Jack stated calmly that they wouldn’t get what they wanted this time around, and that humanity would not stand for the loss of their children. 456 then commented on how “fascinating” this response was, and cited statistics about the child mortality rate on Earth, arguing that it was surprising that they fought so vehemently against losing children to the 456, while doing very little to save children from disease, poverty, and starvation. I actually thought that these lines should have been explored more, and more points should have been raised about how many children would die anyway, some of them under arguably worse circumstances than being taken by 456. It would have been yet another interesting spin on the morality angle if it were touched on more.

Ultimately, 456’s response to this was to release a pathogen into the building and kill everyone inside it. This highlights yet another aspect of the 456 that I loved: they did not make threats. They simply took action, and said “this is because you did not comply.” Sadly, aside from Jack (obviously) and Dekker (who makes it into a hazmat suit before the virus finished spreading), everyone in the building dies, including Ianto. Ianto’s death scene was nothing special, but it was handled well. What was perhaps most touching was the last scene of the episode, where Jack and Gwen cry over Ianto’s lifeless body.

Rating: 5 out of 5

Day Five

Episode five, sadly, is where everything goes to shit. The good news is that it certainly doesn’t happen right away—the first thirty-five and a half minutes are actually quite good. There are some really compelling scenes in the first half of episode five. The conversation in which the Prime Minister informs Frobisher that his children will be “inoculated” was exceptionally well-written. It did feel like the work of RTD at points, but for once that didn’t get in the way of the potency of the scene. And it must be said that the follow-up scene where Frobisher requisitions a handgun for himself and returns home to kill his family (and himself) to save them from their fate is perhaps one of the most powerful scenes in the entire miniseries.

There were several other scenes throughout episode five that stood out as being particularly good. The scenes with the soldiers going door to door to collect the remaining children from the homes of their parents were very good, as were the scenes where the neighborhood stood up to the military, buying time for Gwen, Rhys, and Ianto’s sister to save as many of the children as they could by getting them to a safer location.

There were a few other well-written scenes here and there, mostly dealing with interaction between Gwen, Rhys, and Andy. That, however, is where the good in this episode ends. Now it’s time to move on what I’ve been most dreading having to write about—the flaws.

First, I think it was a huge mistake to reveal the ultimate purpose of the 456. Not only was the final explanation unconvincing (it’s a typical RTD tactic to achieve “dark” writing—taking a real world problem in its simplest terms, and turning it into the sinister, large-scale motivation for his villain), but it also stripped away a huge chunk of the mystery and fear factor behind the 456. I think it would have been much scarier and much more compelling to never have any idea why they wanted our children. In addition, the 456 were asked in previous episodes why they wanted the children, and they always refused to spell out exactly what they would be used for. Why the sudden change of heart? It was so elegantly handled before, where they showed them in use without explicitly stating what was going on. Suddenly, the 456 have changed their modus operandi and just decided to lay all their cards on the table. This is inconsistent writing at worst, or a wasted opportunity for a truly horrifying villain at best.

Another RTD trend I’ve noticed is that of the repeated overdramatic monologue. He used this with the Rose voiceovers in “Doomsday,” and he’s done it again here with Gwen. First, he’ll write a supposedly dark-sounding character monologue to set the tone at the beginning of the episode (his style when writing monologues and dark dialogue like this is very noticeable as well), then he will repeat the entire monologue one or more times at later points during the episode. This is unnecessary and somewhat annoying, especially considering that these monologues are often irrelevant to the plot, and there is no real reason for them to appear aside from pure drama value (which is something RTD relies upon very frequently).

Finally, the last remaining problem is also the biggest in the entire miniseries, and that is the conclusion. I had to spend more than three hours discussing the final resolution of this miniseries down to the last detail, trying to discern exactly what RTD was trying to do. The root of this problem stems from the fact that there simply was not enough explanation of what the final solution was and how exactly it was implemented.

The reason RTD spent no time properly explaining the final resolution of the story is because of another inherent flaw in RTD’s writing style—the emotional impact factor. People can watch (and write) science fiction in two different mindsets: one mindset focuses your attention on the scientific backdrop that all stories are set against, while the other mindset allows you to ignore the science aspect for the sake of a good story. RTD is firmly entrenched in the latter camp, and it’s why I frequently have such huge problems with his writing. For RTD, the most important thing at the end of the day is to tell a compelling story and create a strong emotional impact. Because of that, the emotional impact is decided and written first, and the scientific explanations have to form around the emotional impact to make it all work. It’s less important for RTD to play by the rules than it is to tell a good story.

I am very strongly the opposite. Rules are everything. When you’re making a TV show, you can create a universe with whatever rules you want, as long as you live and die by those rules. If you’re playing in a universe where science is important (like science fiction—hence the name), then the science aspect damn well better make sense. I frankly don’t care how exciting or boring your story is, because that’s not the most important thing to me. What is important to me is that everything makes sense, everything is explained to a reasonable extent, your characters are true to their conception, and you follow your own rules. Only then is your story worth my time. RTD very frequently lets this slip by unchecked.

Only after three hours of discussion, speculation, thought, and analysis did I finally come to the conclusion that it is possible to rationalize the events of the episode and come up with an explanation that covers nearly all of the unanswered questions the episode leaves us with. However, there are two main problems: first, RTD has ultimately failed in his job as storyteller by forcing me to spend three hours just to be able to adequately understand the resolution of his episode, and second, there is no one clean solution that ties up all loose ends, answers all questions, and explains all plot elements. There is always something left unanswered, or not making sense.

The critical problem here is that every possible explanation that I came up with is extremely speculative, based on theories that I had to come up with on my own, and not based on anything that was explicitly stated in the episode, because the bottom line is that not enough information is given anywhere in the miniseries to adequately explain how all things were resolved. What follows is a set of questions left unanswered through all of RTD’s writings.

Question 1: Are the 456 themselves integrated at all times into the 456 wavelength along with all the children of Earth (and Clem)? Almost every explanation I have had to come up with has hinged on the answer to this question being yes, but this answer is completely speculative and never explicitly stated anywhere in the miniseries.

Question 2: What exactly was the kill signal designed to do—was it specifically engineered to only kill Clem, even though it would be heard by everyone on the wavelength, or was it simply a generic kill signal that would kill anything that received it, and it was sent specifically to Clem and to no one else on the 456 wavelength? Regardless of the answer to this question, there is always at least one significant plot hole in the final outcome.

If the signal were designed specifically to only kill Clem, then there are two problems. First problem: if this signal causes everyone receiving the 456 wavelength to scream, as it does in episode five, then why is this effect not shown when the signal kills Clem in episode four? If the children reacted in that way, there would have been media reaction, speculation, and news coverage, none of which was shown. The second, larger problem: how did Captain Jack reengineer that kill signal to affect only the 456 rather than Clem, who the signal was originally designed for?

If the signal were a generic kill signal that would kill everyone receiving it, then there are another set of two problems. The first problem: a signal such as this would require extremely specific targeting, so as to only kill the desired target, so how did Captain Jack send the signal only to the 456 and not kill everyone else receiving the 456 wavelength? The second problem: if the universal kill signal was only sent to the 456, then why did all the children react to receiving the signal by screaming?

Question 3: It is established that Jack used Steven to transmit his kill signal onto the 456 wavelength; how did Jack get the signal to Steven? It is fairly clear that the 456 transmit on their wavelength either by advanced technology, or by telepathy. Advanced technology is considerably less likely, because the ambassador sent to Earth clearly did not have any such technology with him, and yet appeared to be sending out the “3-2-5-0-0-0″ signal directly from his location on Earth. Even if it were technology, Jack would not have been in possession of the necessary technology to transmit that signal onto the wavelength. If it were telepathy, it is even less feasible that Jack would be able to deliver that signal onto the wavelength, because no one involved had any telepathic ability whatsoever. Supposing that the telepathic link were created purely by receiving on the 456 wavelength, it still does not make sense that Steven would have transmitted the kill signal, because that would imply that anything that any child hears while receiving on the 456 wavelength would then subsequently be transmitting that across the entire wavelength. If this were the case, it would have been very obviously evident, and would have had severe repercussions, meaning it clearly cannot be the case.

Question 4: Did the kill signal only affect the 456 ambassador, or did it also affect the 456 in orbit around Earth? If it only affected the 456 ambassador, then this blatant attack would likely have severely pissed off the 456 in orbit and caused them to put in place their pre-existing plans for wiping out the entire human population. If it also affected the 456 in orbit, then conceivably it might make sense that they would retreat, at least temporarily, but it would almost certainly guarantee that they would return to level the planet. Either way, at the end of the day, you’re still left with a whole army of angry 456 eager to take out their new human enemies. And if, for some ridiculous reason, that signal were designed to wipe out the entire 456 species, then how and why was the ambassador retrieved from Earth?

Question 5: If this kill signal was so effective against the 456 that it could ultimately defeat them, why would they take the immense risk of publicly sending that signal in the first place, handing it to the humans on a silver platter so that they would be able to reuse it later against them? The 456 were a lot more intelligent than that. It simply doesn’t make sense that this would be able to be a final solution, or even that this would have happened in the first place because such a signal should never have been used so carelessly. Consider this: the reason they killed Clem is because he was perceived as a potential threat. So what is their recourse when faced with a minor potential threat? Respond to it by using a signal that is far more dangerous to them than Clem could ever be.

Question 6: If, as assumed in question 1, the 456 exist in a state of sync with the 456 wavelength, why would they expose such a tremendous vulnerability (their telepathic frequency) by using it as their means of communication with Earth? They wouldn’t be stupid enough to expose themselves like this. There are much easier ways to communicate than by exposing such a critical vulnerability. It would have less dramatic impact, sure, but it would be just as effective and ultimately safer for them.

All in all, episode five failed to be what it should have been: a satisfying conclusion to an otherwise phenomenal story. With just a little bit more exposition, it could have been truly great. As it stands though, it really just lets down the third season of Torchwood with a disappointing finale. That said, however, the pieces were all there, and I strongly commend RTD for clearly trying very hard to put together something really special. Despite the major flaws and unanswered questions in episode five, I would still rate this among his best work.

Rating: 2 out of 5

Overall Rating: 3.8 out of 5

Thanks to Ian Stewart for his contributions to this review, and for being on the receiving end of my three-hour discussion about the finale.

Phew! It’s been more than a week since I last posted, blame lack of news and little to comment on. But with the news that Matt Smith has started filming for his tenure as everyone favourite Time Lord it’s given us all something to talk about.

I’m looking at this shot of Mr Smith on set and I guess I’m doing a typical fan reaction to how a new Doctor looks and wondering what the hell he is wearing. But I realize that’s part of The Doctors appeal, being the quirky lovable roguish genius who can either blend in or stand out no matter what he wears. But I’m still wondering what kind of look they were going for here.

My first impression made me think of that fear of the new series throwing up too much angst alongside the helping of darkness we are going to see, the jet black hair covering one eye and the tweed makes him seem like he stepped out some Fall Out Boy music vid. A vid about the upper class or going on a old fashioned hunt where the prize was some chavvy Vicky Pollard lookalike, as I have had the misfortune of being stuck at a crappy Farmer University where such upper class types are rampant I’m not sure if he would fit in or be cast out.

However after assimilating the images it also struck me that Moffat is trying to combine the young age of our new Doctor with the old age and experience The Doctor has acquired in his 900+ years of life. Like he is a University student trying to look like that wizened old lecturer that everyone loves. Smith may not be the most handsome devil around but from what I have seen of him he looks more than able to display the quirkiness that we all know The Doctor is capable of. As long as we move away form the dammed romance sub-plots and more onto the action and Sci Fi the series can deliver and we know Moffat is truly shredded the dried RTD skin the series has been stuck with. Like a Snake who wants to get rid of the old layer but seems too snug in what he already has, despite it cracking and hampering movement.

I guess one of the appeals of a new Doctor is the outfit. While clothes don’t always make The Doctor (Unless you are Colin Baker, but that is not his fault!) what they do is provoke the discussion we all love, trying to work out what he is going to be like, how they are going to showcase and make him standout. The other challenge is that like Peter Davison, we have a young actor stepping into the shoes of an experienced one who has made the role more of his own. Davisons reputation grew with the years, Tennant’s grew with the episodes and despite my comments above I will still not pass judgment on Matt Smith until we see him strut his stuff. As before; the best of luck to him and I hope he is enjoying himself as much as the photo suggests.

PS: Wonder if there are plans for a Jenny/#11 episode yet? Considering how close Smith and Moffat are in terms of ages, any episode with them in would be utterly priceless.

The Script, considering it was completed in a hurry, is top-notch. I’m glad that Malcolm Hulke joined Terrance Dicks for the creation of this venture. Hulke’s stories are well known for incorporating his political views, so it’s no surprise that when given the opportunity to co-write a story about various periods in earth’s military history, he uses this as a siphon for his anti-war views. Unlike many of Hulke’s other ‘Who serials, the views he presents in ‘The War Games’ are more subtly woven into the plot, perhaps due to Dicks’ input. This allows the story to develop around these themes, rather than have them swamp the narrative. The central concept of this adventure is, while perhaps a little far-fetched, rather an interesting one. The systematic abduction of thousands of warmongering humans is an imaginative idea to say the least. It is gratifying that even at such short notice, Dicks and Hulke take the time to create a viable explanation for this bizarre scenario.

The cast is far too large to thoroughly appraise, but every one of them performs admirably. Sufficed to say our leads are superb. Frazer Hines’ Jamie is bursting with energy and enthusiasm that drives the narrative forward. Wendy Padbury plays Zoe brilliantly, giving her an intelligence and purpose. She seems to have matured a great deal during her travels with the Doctor. Cementing the TARDIS crew together, Patrick Troughton is ever the hero, and gives his all, right up to the final scene. The fact that the main cast work so brilliantly together gives an even greater sadness to their last farewell. The three main villains are played to perfection, many menacing confrontations taking place throughout the last few episodes. James Bree’s beurocratic Security Chief is a decidedly intense character, who plays off Edward Brayshaw’s War Chief brilliantly. The War Chief is a rather enigmatic character, rather like the Doctor, to the extent that I began speculating whether he could be an early incarnation of the Doctor’s arch-nemesis the Master. I wonder… Philip Madoc is also on fine form as the War Lord. His quiet, collected performance gives an unsettling edge to the character.

I would surely be committing a crime if I finished this review without mentioning that pillar of brilliance known as Bernard Horsfall. The more I see Bernard crop up in both films and TV shows, I just grown fonder and fonder of him. He tends to play roles with grandeur, a larger-than-life persona. By toning his performance here down slightly, Horsfall succeeds in bringing a calm-yet-powerful air to the first Time Lord. His condemnation of the Doctor in episode 10 is the most perfectly understated exchange, which brings you to the incontestable truth that he is a figure of authority.

Robert Cheveley’s set design is some of the most original and innovative in the history of Doctor Who. Psychedelic patterns recur through the many weird and wonderful sets in the story, giving them an intoxicating air of the 60s. He must also be given credit for creating the realistic-looking military settings, such as the war generals’ offices, and the barn in the American Civil War zone.

Dudley Simpson’s score, while not the best of his compositions, remains parallel to the story, accompanying the action well. The percussive, military-sounding music aides the depiction of various historical periods and guides the story between the many time zones. Linking cues help represent the passage of time between and during various scenes.

This masterfully executed serial marks the end of so many eras, but still stands as a testament to both Patrick Troughton and the black-and-white era of the show’s history. As he begins his exile, it’s hard not to be sad about the second Doctor’s demise.

There are, as always, a set of tantalising special features. As this release is a three-disc set, the extras are extensive indeed. The content really does keep on coming, and it is by no means padded. ‘War Zone’ is enjoyable, and provides various useful bits of trivia and some rather nice anecdotes. Paul Cornell once again enters with some very insightful thoughts on the production (he seems to know what he’s on about, that man). Similarly, Terrance Dicks seems to have perfect recall of his time writing with Malcolm Hulke, the story of which is fascinating.

A documentary discussing the black-and-white era of television is also included, and is actually a lot better than I originally anticipated. In fact, I actually learned a lot from ‘Shades of Grey’. It is revealing in that it discusses a lot of the actual techniques used in making monochrome programmes. Particularly enjoyable are Frazer Hines’ and Wendy Padbury’s anecdotes about what were essentially live recordings.

The ‘Now and Then’ feature is, to me, quite captivating. I can imagine, however, that others who are perhaps slightly less engaged by these details might find it tedious. I would recommend the producers hire a presenter for future releases, to liven the imagery up somewhat. As it stands, it’s educational if nothing else.

A rather nice interview with Dudley Simpson and some classic clips come together for ‘The Doctor’s Composer’. In this documentary, the famous incidental music composer discusses his work on the show in its first five years. It’s nice to learn more about some of the best incidental music in Doctor Who’s history from the horse’s mouth. It is left open for part two, which I should think will cover his final Doctor Who scores, during the 1970s.

A feature which looks at Sylvia James’ costume design is initially interesting, but does nothing to hold one’s interest after a while. Similarly, ‘Talking About Regeneration’ is definitely entertaining, but has little original material or discussion. It comes down mainly to reminding us of all the Doctor’s previous regenerations as a few of the regulars talk about the good and bad points thereof.

The historical accuracy of the various conflicts presented in ‘The War Games’ are discussed in ‘Time Zones’. All the contributors are extremely well informed, as ever. Thankfully, the feature makes more of a comparison to the story itself than usual, rather than letting the piece degenerate into a lecture on military history.

I was eager, once again, to view the latest in the ‘Stripped for Action’ series, which chronicles the history of the Doctor Who comic strips, in its various forms. The second Doctor’s strips seem to develop on the basic elements laid down in those of the first Doctor. I don’t think you could have chosen better interviewees for this series as it stands, as every one of the contributors are remarkably clued-up. A new feature, comparatively similar to this, is ‘On Target’. This absorbing documentary looks at the Target novelizations of Malcolm Hulke. I’m unsure as to whether more of these will be made with reference to other writers, but I sincerely hope so.

‘Devious’ is an on-going fan-film project that has been in production for over a decade now. Included on this disc is a short preview of the story, followed by the final scene, which features Jon Pertwee himself! Jon seems to rather enjoy himself, giving a dazzling last performance as the third Doctor alongside Tony Garner. You really have to admire the time and dedication the team have put in to this endeavour over the years. Rock on, guys!

As well as the nifty ‘Coming Soon’ trailer advertising ‘The Black Guardian Trilogy’, there’s a rather lovely commentary. The track has a friendly atmosphere, Frazer and Wendy having a great time reminiscing. There’s also a photo gallery which is as ample as ever, PDF materials, and an enlightening info-text option (which I rarely partake in). Hidden within the menus, much to my surprise, are some rather odd ‘Easter Eggs’, one of which made me cackle heartily. Happy hunting!

A marvellous package, then, for a marvellous story. With some fantastic restoration work and a set of rather splendid special features, I would highly recommend this release to everyone.

LP

The tale I wish to share today is probably one of the best crafted ideas of what an 8th/9th Doctor regeneration story could be like. I considering trying to find out what really caused the 8th Doctor to regeneration to be like the flipping pot of gold at the rainbow, or Excalibur. You can spend ages trying to track it down but it will never be there for you, instead you need to content yourself with the stories that crop up about it. This one is probably the best out there. It’s linked below for you to access.

From This Day to the Ending of the World

As seen above, it’s called From This Day to the Ending of the World and while I don’t wish to give away anything about the plot; to put simply it’s just after the end of the Time War and The Doctor and TARDIS have crash landed on a planet still recovering from the deadly war, what follows is a deep but brief tale of how our favourite Time Lord struggled to reconcile his past with the present and the future, knowing almost everything he was is now gone.

The author does a lovely job of trying to paint our imaginations with the scenery that he has visioned in the writing, we get to have a good look about what the war has done to not only the Doctor’s little world, but we can also see some of the effects on the wider Universe and the people involved, giving a bigger sense of scale which the series does seem to lack at points. however the real strength lies in looking at the Doctor and getting an idea of how he thinks, especially for the new series, the author attempts to justify his pain and loss more, while we always know The Doctor as a secretive and careful person we also know how we can be when driven too far, this shows us more of his personal conflicts, despite his intelligence he has suffer more loss then anyone can fathom.

The story tries to throw off the image that we would expect from Old Who and works to pull on the image that New Who has adopted, it feels darker with that sense of optimism that The Doctor pulls off, knowing he somehow keeps doing despite having a weight the size of a star on his back, he struggles with what he was, if there is any point for him anymore and then remembering that someone needs to be there to sort out the mess at the end of the day, and it works so well. It’s a transformation as the 9th Doctor comes out of his cocoon. We feel his pain and we can relate to him so much more.

I used the words brief harshly earlier on, if anything this functions as a well written and deeply imaginative prologue that sets up the new series really well, but some of that imagination feels lost considering some of what has come out of New Who over the years. The event that helps make The Doctor realize what he is does seem a little too quick but then at times it takes the simple things to put the bigger picture together, and for it’s length the pacing is excellent, it doesn’t feel like it drags on at all and leaves the reading hooked like some sort of new narcotic that’s come out. It helps to justify The Doctors anger and sense of loss we have seen over the years, to the point of getting a little sick of it although I am reminded of how a single year means a lot less to The Doctor then us, it appeals to our love, hope and respect we have for The Doctor, like the wise, quirky grandfather we have seen him be.

So read it, it’s ten or fifteen minutes well spent. We may never see what really happened in the Time War on TV, but this is still a damm good effort and should show how Doctor Who does make us think, how it throws hooks into our skin and drags us willingly into the vast Universe it creates.

The first thing that struck me whilst watching episode one was the utterly terrible incidental music. This is quite possibly the worst Doctor Who score I have ever heard. Keff McCulloch attempts to ground the story within the 1950s using Rock and Roll riffs and vintage vocals, but fails dismally. It’s so undeniably synthetic and flat that it succeeds only in evoking memories of other 1980s Doctor Who serials. And don’t get me wrong, I’m all for electronic and synthesised music, but it really has to be done right; ‘Caves of Androzani’ springs to mind. Just think of how ‘Delta’ would have been improved by a competent and ably executed score.

The acting is nothing short of abysmal, even from the two leads. The best performance over all has to be that of Hugh Lloyd, as the mysterious bee-keeper, Goronwy. Ken Dodd’s over-the-top Tollmaster added nothing to the plot, and his execution later at the hands of Gavrok seemed to act only as an excuse to give him more screen time. Most of the supporting cast are barely able to act, and it’s a wonder they didn’t all burst into fits of laughter during every scene because of the utter ridiculousness of the flopping narrative. Sylvester McCoy and Bonnie Langford are, sadly, not on top form either. I’ve never been a fan of the seventh Doctor myself, but there’s no denying that his unnecessarily melodramatic Doctor does nothing to help these episodes along. Likewise, Bonnie’s performance as Melanie was weak. She lived up to her renowned role as screaming cohort once again.

There are some bad effects, also. The CGI spaceships and overlaid bees that attack the Bannermen near the end of the serial leave a lot to be desired, and detract from the main action. One of the best effects sequences in the story is also one of the shortest. I speak of course of the model shot as the TARDIS flies alongside the bus, managing to stabilise it before it crashes to the Earth. Even this brief moment of interest was spoiled by the Doctor’s strange bumbling in the TARDIS, using his umbrella as a third arm in order to reach a switch at the other side of the console. Dear me.

The setting, a Welsh holiday camp in the 1950s, could, as I mentioned earlier, have been unusual and refreshing. However, this dreary environment seems to infect the story and the cast themselves, who get caught up in dull, domestic events. You almost feel like the whole plot is some sort of cabaret act being performed as part of the camp’s entertainment line-up. It’s like some kind of terrible spoof or crossover adventure, an idea that was eluded to when the cast and crew started referring to the story as ‘Hi-De-Who’. This script landed in the wrong place at the wrong time, rather like the Nostalgia Tours passengers.

Luckily, the DVD boasts a collection of special features. One of the reasons I bought this release was to indulge in the next segment of the ‘Stripped for Action’ series, which discussed the seventh Doctor comic strips. Some interesting ideas were conveyed by all concerned, including Paul Cornell, who helped to segue the feature into the realm of the Virgin New Adventures book range, and how that tied into the comic range its self.

There were some interesting but relatively dull behind the scenes features filmed during the ‘Delta’ shoot, from ‘Wales Today’ and ‘But First This’. They offered insight through interviews and backstage footage of various scenes being recorded on location, particularly the latter. However, it was rendered somewhat obsolete by the ‘Interview Rushes’ also included on the DVD. These were the uncut interviews with the cast, of which some material was cut for the final ‘But First This’ programme.

‘Hugh and Us’ was one of the better pieces on the disc. Learning more about the most memorable actor in ‘Delta’ was nice. It was also nice of the producers of this documentary to acknowledge his passing in 2008.

For some reason, episode one of this story was originally overlong, as many stories are. But this first edit of episode one is included on the disc. It was a relief at first, to be rid of the ghastly music, and the TARDIS scene at the beginning was rather nice. However, you can also see why parts of it were cut. It just seemed very sluggish – not that it wasn’t anyway – and dragged throughout.

The more minor features are business as usual, really. The ‘Trails and Continuity’ package was, as ever, great. I always find it particularly interesting to look back at how old television programmes, principally Doctor Who, were promoted and formatted back then. The participants of the commentary are fairly positive about the story generally, and the photo gallery provides a decent and comprehensive collection of production stills and promotional images. The ‘Coming Soon’ trailer for ‘The War Games’ was very well put together and wet my appetite for the much-anticipated release of this story, very soon.

So, for anyone who finds ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ bearable, I would recommend the DVD, if only for the ‘Stripped for Action’ documentary. If you’re not a fan, then I’d wait and grab it at a much lower price later in the year.

LP

100, 000 Unearthly Gum (look, just being on the safe side here, ok?)

In this, the first exciting adventure of Doctor Who, two school…no, hang on…no, that’s not right. It’s not actually exciting really, is it? Ah. Right.

In this, the first story – there, thats better – two schoolteachers neglect their duties and fail to call in Social Services when they discover that one of their pupils is ‘a bit odd’. Nowadays no one would really bat an eyelid and Susan would be labeled as having some form of social disorder, but hey, this was the 60’s.

Anyway, after trying to get Barbara inside a junkyard for ‘a bit of fun’, just after a grumpy old duffer appears, preceded by his smoker’s cough, Ian Chatterton discovers that Susan is trapped in a box – and not in a friendly David ‘Git Wizard’ Blaine way. Thats when things go a bit pear shaped for them and they end up inside this Police Box thingy that’s obviously a fairground ride that the old geezer has set up to trap unwary Coal Hill School pupils. Face facts, its probably powered by them. Some sort of ‘Pupil Squeezing’ device, I should imagine. I mean, that thing in the middle that goes up and down is probably what we’re talking about here.

Anyway, the old git says he’s taken them back to the stone age. Well, thats what happens when you let Woolworth’s close. Civilization fails, you just wait and see!

Ahem.

Anyway, what we really get to see is the pilot version of ‘I’m a celebrity, get me out of here’. The two hosts, Ant and Dec, here, for the sake of copyright named Kal and Za are having a bit of a tiff over who should lead the show. Carol Thatcher keeps whinging on about fire killing everyone which explains why her mother wanted to shut all the coal mines.

Our heroes then spend the rest of the story either being trapped in a cave, or running through a forest. So, thats the next 46 years neatly summed up. Shame there weren’t any corridors or I wouldn’t have to type up every other bloody story. I mean, seriously, have you counted how many of them there are? I’m going to be here till the crack of doom. Especially when the pickles run out.

Anyway, they escape back to the TARDIS. Just as well really. Would have been a very short series otherwise. Would have saved my fingers, mind.

Oh, and right at the end there’s a hint of some radiation.

Which is nice.

Now I admit to being part of the Doctor Who camp who hates the direction RTD has taken the show (more on that some other time) and franchise over the years. I am glad he managed to get the show back on the air after so long but it feels like every series just seems to get worse and worse, which I guess can be blamed partially on getting caught up with the hype. I started to notice things were wrong when Tennant’s first season started, examples being “New Earth” and the abysmal “Love and Monsters.” I don’t want to take away from how well Tennant and the companions have performed, as they have been a strong pillar of the show and upheld the mantle well.

But I like how RTD goes around with all this smug sense of self satisfaction, to the point where he has to be cut off a couple of times so the presenter can get back to reality, I consider it a relief that RTD doesn’t know what Moffat is up to apart from the fact that series 5 will be darker, something i can only find a good thing, at least then RTD can’t shove his head in the door to try to take back the reins, evidenced by the fact Moffat was the main force behind Matt Smith’s casting; showing how Moffat is trying to start from scratch almost. RTD can go on producing Torchwood and the Sarah Jane adventures really, good luck to him, although I guess if they go under Doctor Who will survive, it didn’t need spin offs before although what I have seen of them they are good. I can’t understand why he always likes to play the children card so often though.

That said I guess I should thank him for helping me to see how hard the world is, and that by lowering expectations means you will enjoy something more when it is good and not whining so much when something is crap, plus I can’t exactly knock is portrayal of sexuality in Doctor Who since it’s perfectly natural to be gay, straight or bi in the world and Universe. I am straight myself but have no problem with whatever people pick.

Still, let’s hope Tennant’s finale is better than it sounds; and roll on Series 5!