J did a very kind thing for me. While I was staying with him over New Year, he picked out one of his Big Finish CDs (he has the first season’s worth) and lent it to me, as I had forgotten to take the majority with me on the plane to listen to. I thought it was odd that he paused over his collection instead of picking the one that was closest on the shelf, but in the end I forgot about it and listened to the CD he lent me, The Fires of Vulcan, on the coach ride back to Swansea a week ago. I didn’t realize until I got home that the gift he had ordered for me on the 29th was a copy of the scripts of four Big Finish plays, including The Fires of Vulcan. It was perfect because I’d been saying how much I wanted to read some scripts from Big Finish in order to help me with my scriptwriting.
I’m now debating with myself whether to read the scripts for the other plays in the collection or buy them on CD first. The other three scripts are all highly regarded (at least I think!) so it’s a tough decision.
I was delightedly surprised when I listened to The Fires of Vulcan: it’s a Seventh Doctor/Mel story and while I had wanted to hear a Mel story for a long time as I suspected they were rehabilitating her with the same success as they rehabilitated the Sixth Doctor, I had just seen “Dragonfire” and didn’t know what to think. For Steve Lyons’ first play, it’s crackin’. It tackles Pompeii from an entirely different perspective than “Fires of Pompeii,” and in my opinion, it’s better. Mel works extremely well in this story (you’d never guess this was originally a story for Ace—that is, unless you read the script book and see the first draft—but I’m getting ahead of myself).
POSSIBLE SPOILERS
The opening scene, which takes place in 1980, reminds me of Liz Shaw/Five story from the Short Trips range, though I can’t remember the title. (This “frame” story also reminded me of The Stone Rose in a pretty obvious way.) I only wish UNIT officer Muriel Frost and Professor Scalini had been used more in this story, rather than just as bookends. Other than that, the opening was great (Lyons grabs the listener from the get-go) and considering I’ve been reading up a lot on hoaxes (don’t ask), the “hook” is very much in tune with that.
There’s a curious nuancing in the story that takes place, practically, because of its original setting as a later Ace story—instead, with Mel, the Doctor is very mercurial. It’s strange to see him certain of his doom in season 24 (it ends up being a very similar time paradox to the one in Glorious Revolution, but I digress). What I love about this play is the way Lyons (almost) never jumps from plot point to plot point: everything is progressed in a logical fashion that makes it seem that much more naturalistic. For example, though the Doctor has much more serious reasons for discouraging Mel from staying in Pompeii, he gives her four perfectly legitimate ones: she’s not dressed for the time and place, “the Romans are quite a barbarous people” (take that , James Moran! J/K),” we have a habit of attracting trouble, no good can come of meddling in your own history” (the last, of course, reminding us of that ultimate adventure, “The Aztecs,” which we’ll come back to).
Although Mel is confused and frustrated by the Doctor’s darker turn, she decides to stick around. I love that graffiti plays an important part in Fires of Vulcan (as it did in Rome, actually). Lyons is wonderful at adding the history in, not too overtly and not sloppily (as I tend to do). Parts of the play are quite funny. My favorite gag—and it’s the most shocking one!—is when Aglae takes her newfound friend Mel to her workplace, the Lupanar. This is a hilarious moment that works so well on radio, as Mel puzzles over the symbols on the sign—are they really what she thinks they are? “It bespeaks the nature of the Lupanar.” Once Mel, embarrassed but unfazed, gathers Aglae’s meaning, Aglae has the dreaminess to ask, “Do you not also serve your master [the Doctor] in this manner?” AS IF! :-D
But Lyons has an affection for Mel and has picked out the best bits of her character while playing with the more stereotypical aspects (like her vegetarianism). Mel befriending Aglae, for example, is perfectly in character. She’s assertive but shuns violence, argumentative and acerbic but really very kind. It makes it all the more amusing that the Doctor almost loses her in a game of dice to the boorish gladiator Murranus (a similar scene takes place in Letters from a French Actress, actually). Actually, almost all of the Roman/Greek characters—Aglae, Murranus, and Valeria the Greek innkeeper, particularly—are very strong, likeable, and feel like flesh and blood (and are not nearly so annoying as the family in “Fires of Pompeii,” IMHO). The antagonists Celsinus and Eumachia are slightly less well-rounded.
The play made a very big deal about the futility of the offerings made to various gods so that Pompeii would not be destroyed (obviously they didn’t work). However, the Doctor says ,“it’s not for me to judge your culture.” Mel obviously reacts in a similar way to Donna against the injustice: “Can’t we do something?” Interestingly, in contrast to the Tenth Doctor and Donna actually scooping the family up in the TARDIS and taking them to safety, in this story Mel and the Doctor tell people to save themselves but we have no idea whether they make it to safety or not.
The fourth part has wonderful suspense, though the narrative bypasses the final carnage (difficult to do on audio anyway) for the twist at the end.
I couldn’t resist reading the script of the play before I wrote this review, and at once I noticed how different the Roman/Greek names look spelled than said. In Lyons’ introduction, he’s on to his weakest scene, but it was actually better than he thought. The scenes seemed quite short on the page but they were the right length on audio. Obviously, all the actors did great jobs and the music, sound design, and technical recording stuff was done by Alistair Lock.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Sarah Jane Adventures series 3
I have to apologize for not taking better notes, and it’s so long since I’ve seen many of these episodes that I don’t remember them very clearly. I’ll do my best, though. I enjoyed series 3 a lot, and parts of it were better, I thought, than series 1. Certainly I liked it better than series 2.
SPOILERS
As series 2 started off with a visit from old baddies the Sontarans (or rather, a Sontaran), series 3 started off with a visit from the Judoon (or rather, at first, a Judoon). “Prisoner of the Judoon” by Phil Ford was a decent way to start off a season, but rather ho-hum compared to the rest of the series. I personally like the Judoon (“Smith and Jones” is one of my favorite stories), and Ford managed to milk some comedy from them. I was pleased when SJS advised Rani, Clyde, and Luke to “leave it to the professionals—UNIT.” We find out soon, though, that the Judoon policeman who has crashed on Earth has lost his prisoner, Androvax, who has apparently stolen Sharaz Jek’s costume.
Everyone makes much of SJS and her possessed acting in stories like “Masque of the Mandragora” and “Hand of Fear,” and you can tell Elisabeth Sladen is having the time of her life getting back into the groove as Androvax possesses her and she goes all evil. To be fair, there isn’t much scarier to youngsters than having adults of authority whom they can trust become frightening and irrational. Episode 1 ends with the charming device of Gita, Rani’s mother, doing some “guerilla planting.” By the way, Rani has become so engrained in the series that, while I miss Maria, she is rapidly becoming one of my favorite characters. I still like Clyde the best, though, because he makes me laugh.
The second episode does a funny thing where it drums up sympathy for Androvax, as he’s a Destroyer of Worlds whose world was destroyed. But this has the ring of not-quite-truth, much like the Joker’s multiple stories of how he got his scars in The Dark Knight. In the end, SJS wisely doesn’t try to psychologically profile Androvax and he is handed over to the proper authorities, the Judoon. In a typical Ford scene, the Judoon are hampered by not being able to go after Androvax because the door through which he vanished was marked “Authorized Entry Only.” (Staggering Stories had a field day with this.) Also a gem was the Judoon commandeering a car and offering its driver compensation. “Someone will destroy you!” “Sounds like you need a cuppa tea.”
“The Mad Woman in the Attic” by Joseph Lidster was a very odd one. There were parts of it that seemed incongruous and stuck out, but the overall concept, and especially the way Eve and her Ship were realized, was very creative and unusual. The Mad Old Rani in 2059 (something to do with the Australian K9 series? Or “Waters of Mars”?) remembers in a fit of pre-teen pique she wished her friends would just leave her alone, that she bristled at the fact SJS didn’t seem to take her entirely seriously for a moment caused her great distress later on (“I never told her how grateful I was”). The story is structured intriguingly, I will give it that, but Rani’s motivation is just a bit clunky. Maybe I’m being too critical. Great joy was felt when “Zodin” was mentioned by SJS, and creepy abandoned seaside fun fair had Lidster written all over it. I believe this was also the story where we saw clips of SJS with Doctors Three and Four, which for all the fan girls and boys out there, was infinitely pleasing.
I had a major problem with the “homeless people” who had been disappearing from the closed fun fair. I’ve never seen such coiffed and groomed homeless people in my life, and despite the actors’ best efforts to look creepy and extraterrestially wigged out, it just came off laughable. The concept of Eve’s “playtime” was a good one, however, and Eve herself, both in the writing and acting/makeup/costume, played the fine line between potentially dangerous and appealing very well. Like Rani, we weren’t immediately sure whether to trust her, but in the end she was absolutely impossible to dislike. There was much of the Gothic in the presentation of her Ship, and it’s unusual that, instead of villain runaround, the cause of the problems was that a) Eve couldn’t find her Ship; b) Eve was a mere child and didn’t understand how her powers were causing distress; c) Eve’s “father” had kept her locked up for her own protection, not realizing this was doing more damage; d) the Ship misinterpreted Rani’s wishes, with disastrous consequences. Complex, eh? The ending was a bit too “get-out-of-jail-free,” but obviously I was pleased that future Rani ended up okay.
“The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith” by Gareth Roberts got huge viewing figures because of David Tennant’s guest appearance as the Doctor, and while that must have boosted the show’s profile, it saddens me that people who wouldn’t tune in on SJA’s merits alone are lured only by the promise of David-ness. As for the story itself, it felt rather schizoid to me. I absolutely loved the first episode and will admit it made me cry.
The first episode managed to both be sweet, very mature in terms of emotions, and appealing for a young audience (I thought). I sympathize with SJS in terms of emotional attachments to the Doctor/s (see “Once Is Never Enough”) and the fact that, as “School Reunion” revealed, SJS being dropped off at “Hand of Fear” has emotionally stunted her in terms of making long-term relationships, not the least of which romantic ones (“I cut myself off from other people for so many years”). She reacted exactly as I would expect a real person when they’re of a certain age, falling in love, and Clyde, Luke, and Rani reacted just as I thought they should for people of their ages, wanting to be protective of SJS but also wanting to be happy for her.
Like most viewers I love the bitch-fest between Mr Smith and K9. When SJS finds out that the kids were spying on her as she went on a date, Mr Smith chides the kids for their lies: “Veracity level 12%.” “Do not exceed your function, Mr Smith,” says K9. On the whole I find the K9 in this series to be slightly more emotional than the character really should be, but in general I quite enjoy the cattiness between supercomputers.
I have to say I didn’t find this Nigel guy attractive in the least, but the music at the moment where he proposed to SJS made me squee and want to cry. Emotionally I felt this episode was perfectly crafted, and the “awww” factor was very high, but not to the point of cheese. Clyde’s difficulty in trusting Peter and the whole romance seemed apt, and as usual there was his sarcastic sense of humor to take the edge off things; investigating Peter’s boarded-up flat, “lair of the living dead!” I think we all began to wonder whether SJS might be possessed again when she uttered quite chirpily, “At my age, why wait [to get married]?” For dramatic purposes and also to emphasize SJS’ emotional vulnerability her wedding was moved up. The Brigadier couldn’t be there, “still in Peru.” May I say I loved SJS’ dress? Rani was in a brighter shade of pink, and my gut feeling that Clyde was starting to fancy her was knocked off kilter by the fact Luke went all “whooaaaa” when he saw her in the dress.
The fact the Doctor stepped in to stop the wedding made this squee-ful romantic smile, but from then on the story drooped. The “dimensional shift” with the Doctor, Rani, Clyde, and Luke stuck in a different second than SJS, Peter, and the Trickster didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Yes, the Trickster was back. I don’t find him that effective of a villain, I thought once was enough in the first season. Frustratingly the Doctor was rather annoying in the second episode and weirdly out of his depth in the tone. There was a lot of useless running around, and the emotional intensity of the climax was rather watered down, I felt, by the Doctor’s presence, not enhanced by it. The Trickster had resurrected Peter in order to make him fall in love with SJS and she with him so she would be distracted and then the Trickster would gain access to the Doctor (no, not like that you pervs). I think? Anyway, in order for everything to work out right Peter had to give up his chance at life and SJS had to give up someone she really loved. And say goodbye to the Doctor again. I did love that he said, “Don’t forget me, Sarah Jane.”
I’m probably the only person in the world who found “The Eternity Trap” by Phil Ford to be possibly the most entertaining story of SJA ever, but I’ll stand by it. I also took copious notes which shows my devotion to it. How could I not love a ghost story set partially in 1665?! The totally evil Erasmus Darkling stole the children of Lord Marchwood, so the legend said, and left “one of the most haunted locations in the UK.” I’m a sucker for this stuff, even if the story goes AT GREAT LENGTHS to remind us over and over again that ghosts don’t exist.
The location for the house is the same one that doubled as Versailles in “Girl in the Fireplace.” Professor Rivers (River Song??) is conducting experiments at the house and has invited SJS and the gang to come along. Ford seems to be taking the mick out of ghost hunters in general, but there are some great atmospheric touches in this story and watching it around Halloween helped. The music is absolutely fantastic, very Pirates of the Caribbean. The story’s tone in general reminded me quite heavily of “Ghost Light.” How on Earth Clyde knew that Roman roads were lower is beyond me.
At its best I find this story echoing some of the scary devices of “The Empty Child” and “Blink.” It also has fencing, which I find irresistible (the actor playing Lord Marchmount also caught my eye, I must admit). Some of Clyde’s funniest moments EVER were in this story, and though Professor Dave from Flashing Blade podcast found Clyde’s cowardice over ghosts disappointing, I thought it was yet another enjoyable aspect to his character. “Harry Potter gets a close shave off Sweeney Todd!” The sets for Darkling’s lair were extremely spooky. “Super spook smackdown!”
The episode ending was a bit of a cop out, but they often are. Again, I see tones of “Silence in the Library” when SJS realizes that “no one died here”—all the “ghosts” are being saved as the people were on CAL’s hardrive. Which is a heartening and totally appropriate thought for a kids’ show. Of course the steampunk in me approved of Darkling’s machine “a portal to another galaxy.” “Living people trapped between dimensions” doesn’t sound all that different from current “theories” as to what ghosts might be. The only low point of the story was Colin who, as Prof. Dave rightly points out, doesn’t develop as a character at all.
I don’t seem to have taken any notes for “Mona Lisa’s Revenge,” again by Phil Ford, but obviously after the story before it, it was bound to be a disappointment. I found it quite weird, though with some very interesting ideas. Clyde’s propensity for art was fortunately noted in earlier stories, but point after point became more and more unbelievable and the whole house of cards came tumbling down at the end. For example, I can’t ever imagine the Mona Lisa leaving the Louvre—can you? The Temple of Peace in Cardiff, even dressed up as some generic London Gallery, is hardly going to be the place to receive it, and Clyde winning the competition to see the Mona Lisa with that piece of artwork was highly unlikely as well. Anyone hoping to see “This is a fake” would have been disappointed as well.
There were, however, some interesting points in the story. Drawings coming to life is an attractive concept I’ve long enjoyed, and I’m sure many people would love to talk to the Mona Lisa should she ever become flesh. Like the Professor here, no doubt there would be a bit of an element of hero worship. Lisa’s brother the Abomination being painted by meteoric minerals from outer space was a truly strange idea that ultimately went nowhere. I don’t particularly like Suranne Jones or the way she characterized Lisa, but to each her own. SJS had very little to do. The Highwayman is an armed thug who I thought was going to become of great importance to the story since she was clearly a woman dressed up as a highwayman! However, he was played by a man and never spoke. What a missed opportunity. I suppose that could be said for that story as a whole.
“The Gift” was written by newcomer Rupert Laight and lacked the urgency of the previous seasons’ series enders, so much so that I didn’t realize it was the last story! However, there were some very endearing touches to this one. Yes, it featured the Slitheen/Blathereen again, but in a mostly novel way. Again I was struck by how cute baby Slitheen are.
The Blathereen pair of Leaf and Tree are voiced by a pair of accomplished actors whose voices were so familiar I spent much of the first episode trying to figure out who they were, and much of the second fixated on them after I had read the credits! Like Rani I very much wanted to believe that the Blathereen’s offers were genuine, though SJS was as usual correct to be over-cautious. Clyde taking K9 to school with him to help pass his exams was a harebrained, Clyde-thing to do and fortunately allowed the story to move along when it seemed our heroes might be defeated!
Luke was out for most of the story having been infected by rackweed and near death (apparently). I began to wonder if he is being written out of the series as he seemed to be sidelined from the action a lot this series. SJS also seemed mostly ineffective until the second part. “Profit is our progeny!” the Blathereen cackle. I found it very significant that the crux of Torchwood: Children of Earth was horrible aliens using human children as drugs, while in a much milder form, the Blathereen are planning to use Earth to fuel their own addiction to rackweed. Fortunately before this can happen Rani, Clyde, and K9 are “saved by the bell.” From here, things wrap up mostly neat and tidy, but the best bits are yet to come.
When Mr Smith amplifies the frequency of the school bell to kill the rackweed, Rani considerately covers K9’s ears! When people’s mobile phones emit this noise it thoughtfully says “Mr Smith calling” on the screen. J The rather graphic but very well-written course of action SJS takes against the Blathereen is bookended by an extremely funny, “There should have been another way!”
SPOILERS
As series 2 started off with a visit from old baddies the Sontarans (or rather, a Sontaran), series 3 started off with a visit from the Judoon (or rather, at first, a Judoon). “Prisoner of the Judoon” by Phil Ford was a decent way to start off a season, but rather ho-hum compared to the rest of the series. I personally like the Judoon (“Smith and Jones” is one of my favorite stories), and Ford managed to milk some comedy from them. I was pleased when SJS advised Rani, Clyde, and Luke to “leave it to the professionals—UNIT.” We find out soon, though, that the Judoon policeman who has crashed on Earth has lost his prisoner, Androvax, who has apparently stolen Sharaz Jek’s costume.
Everyone makes much of SJS and her possessed acting in stories like “Masque of the Mandragora” and “Hand of Fear,” and you can tell Elisabeth Sladen is having the time of her life getting back into the groove as Androvax possesses her and she goes all evil. To be fair, there isn’t much scarier to youngsters than having adults of authority whom they can trust become frightening and irrational. Episode 1 ends with the charming device of Gita, Rani’s mother, doing some “guerilla planting.” By the way, Rani has become so engrained in the series that, while I miss Maria, she is rapidly becoming one of my favorite characters. I still like Clyde the best, though, because he makes me laugh.
The second episode does a funny thing where it drums up sympathy for Androvax, as he’s a Destroyer of Worlds whose world was destroyed. But this has the ring of not-quite-truth, much like the Joker’s multiple stories of how he got his scars in The Dark Knight. In the end, SJS wisely doesn’t try to psychologically profile Androvax and he is handed over to the proper authorities, the Judoon. In a typical Ford scene, the Judoon are hampered by not being able to go after Androvax because the door through which he vanished was marked “Authorized Entry Only.” (Staggering Stories had a field day with this.) Also a gem was the Judoon commandeering a car and offering its driver compensation. “Someone will destroy you!” “Sounds like you need a cuppa tea.”
“The Mad Woman in the Attic” by Joseph Lidster was a very odd one. There were parts of it that seemed incongruous and stuck out, but the overall concept, and especially the way Eve and her Ship were realized, was very creative and unusual. The Mad Old Rani in 2059 (something to do with the Australian K9 series? Or “Waters of Mars”?) remembers in a fit of pre-teen pique she wished her friends would just leave her alone, that she bristled at the fact SJS didn’t seem to take her entirely seriously for a moment caused her great distress later on (“I never told her how grateful I was”). The story is structured intriguingly, I will give it that, but Rani’s motivation is just a bit clunky. Maybe I’m being too critical. Great joy was felt when “Zodin” was mentioned by SJS, and creepy abandoned seaside fun fair had Lidster written all over it. I believe this was also the story where we saw clips of SJS with Doctors Three and Four, which for all the fan girls and boys out there, was infinitely pleasing.
I had a major problem with the “homeless people” who had been disappearing from the closed fun fair. I’ve never seen such coiffed and groomed homeless people in my life, and despite the actors’ best efforts to look creepy and extraterrestially wigged out, it just came off laughable. The concept of Eve’s “playtime” was a good one, however, and Eve herself, both in the writing and acting/makeup/costume, played the fine line between potentially dangerous and appealing very well. Like Rani, we weren’t immediately sure whether to trust her, but in the end she was absolutely impossible to dislike. There was much of the Gothic in the presentation of her Ship, and it’s unusual that, instead of villain runaround, the cause of the problems was that a) Eve couldn’t find her Ship; b) Eve was a mere child and didn’t understand how her powers were causing distress; c) Eve’s “father” had kept her locked up for her own protection, not realizing this was doing more damage; d) the Ship misinterpreted Rani’s wishes, with disastrous consequences. Complex, eh? The ending was a bit too “get-out-of-jail-free,” but obviously I was pleased that future Rani ended up okay.
“The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith” by Gareth Roberts got huge viewing figures because of David Tennant’s guest appearance as the Doctor, and while that must have boosted the show’s profile, it saddens me that people who wouldn’t tune in on SJA’s merits alone are lured only by the promise of David-ness. As for the story itself, it felt rather schizoid to me. I absolutely loved the first episode and will admit it made me cry.
The first episode managed to both be sweet, very mature in terms of emotions, and appealing for a young audience (I thought). I sympathize with SJS in terms of emotional attachments to the Doctor/s (see “Once Is Never Enough”) and the fact that, as “School Reunion” revealed, SJS being dropped off at “Hand of Fear” has emotionally stunted her in terms of making long-term relationships, not the least of which romantic ones (“I cut myself off from other people for so many years”). She reacted exactly as I would expect a real person when they’re of a certain age, falling in love, and Clyde, Luke, and Rani reacted just as I thought they should for people of their ages, wanting to be protective of SJS but also wanting to be happy for her.
Like most viewers I love the bitch-fest between Mr Smith and K9. When SJS finds out that the kids were spying on her as she went on a date, Mr Smith chides the kids for their lies: “Veracity level 12%.” “Do not exceed your function, Mr Smith,” says K9. On the whole I find the K9 in this series to be slightly more emotional than the character really should be, but in general I quite enjoy the cattiness between supercomputers.
I have to say I didn’t find this Nigel guy attractive in the least, but the music at the moment where he proposed to SJS made me squee and want to cry. Emotionally I felt this episode was perfectly crafted, and the “awww” factor was very high, but not to the point of cheese. Clyde’s difficulty in trusting Peter and the whole romance seemed apt, and as usual there was his sarcastic sense of humor to take the edge off things; investigating Peter’s boarded-up flat, “lair of the living dead!” I think we all began to wonder whether SJS might be possessed again when she uttered quite chirpily, “At my age, why wait [to get married]?” For dramatic purposes and also to emphasize SJS’ emotional vulnerability her wedding was moved up. The Brigadier couldn’t be there, “still in Peru.” May I say I loved SJS’ dress? Rani was in a brighter shade of pink, and my gut feeling that Clyde was starting to fancy her was knocked off kilter by the fact Luke went all “whooaaaa” when he saw her in the dress.
The fact the Doctor stepped in to stop the wedding made this squee-ful romantic smile, but from then on the story drooped. The “dimensional shift” with the Doctor, Rani, Clyde, and Luke stuck in a different second than SJS, Peter, and the Trickster didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Yes, the Trickster was back. I don’t find him that effective of a villain, I thought once was enough in the first season. Frustratingly the Doctor was rather annoying in the second episode and weirdly out of his depth in the tone. There was a lot of useless running around, and the emotional intensity of the climax was rather watered down, I felt, by the Doctor’s presence, not enhanced by it. The Trickster had resurrected Peter in order to make him fall in love with SJS and she with him so she would be distracted and then the Trickster would gain access to the Doctor (no, not like that you pervs). I think? Anyway, in order for everything to work out right Peter had to give up his chance at life and SJS had to give up someone she really loved. And say goodbye to the Doctor again. I did love that he said, “Don’t forget me, Sarah Jane.”
I’m probably the only person in the world who found “The Eternity Trap” by Phil Ford to be possibly the most entertaining story of SJA ever, but I’ll stand by it. I also took copious notes which shows my devotion to it. How could I not love a ghost story set partially in 1665?! The totally evil Erasmus Darkling stole the children of Lord Marchwood, so the legend said, and left “one of the most haunted locations in the UK.” I’m a sucker for this stuff, even if the story goes AT GREAT LENGTHS to remind us over and over again that ghosts don’t exist.
The location for the house is the same one that doubled as Versailles in “Girl in the Fireplace.” Professor Rivers (River Song??) is conducting experiments at the house and has invited SJS and the gang to come along. Ford seems to be taking the mick out of ghost hunters in general, but there are some great atmospheric touches in this story and watching it around Halloween helped. The music is absolutely fantastic, very Pirates of the Caribbean. The story’s tone in general reminded me quite heavily of “Ghost Light.” How on Earth Clyde knew that Roman roads were lower is beyond me.
At its best I find this story echoing some of the scary devices of “The Empty Child” and “Blink.” It also has fencing, which I find irresistible (the actor playing Lord Marchmount also caught my eye, I must admit). Some of Clyde’s funniest moments EVER were in this story, and though Professor Dave from Flashing Blade podcast found Clyde’s cowardice over ghosts disappointing, I thought it was yet another enjoyable aspect to his character. “Harry Potter gets a close shave off Sweeney Todd!” The sets for Darkling’s lair were extremely spooky. “Super spook smackdown!”
The episode ending was a bit of a cop out, but they often are. Again, I see tones of “Silence in the Library” when SJS realizes that “no one died here”—all the “ghosts” are being saved as the people were on CAL’s hardrive. Which is a heartening and totally appropriate thought for a kids’ show. Of course the steampunk in me approved of Darkling’s machine “a portal to another galaxy.” “Living people trapped between dimensions” doesn’t sound all that different from current “theories” as to what ghosts might be. The only low point of the story was Colin who, as Prof. Dave rightly points out, doesn’t develop as a character at all.
I don’t seem to have taken any notes for “Mona Lisa’s Revenge,” again by Phil Ford, but obviously after the story before it, it was bound to be a disappointment. I found it quite weird, though with some very interesting ideas. Clyde’s propensity for art was fortunately noted in earlier stories, but point after point became more and more unbelievable and the whole house of cards came tumbling down at the end. For example, I can’t ever imagine the Mona Lisa leaving the Louvre—can you? The Temple of Peace in Cardiff, even dressed up as some generic London Gallery, is hardly going to be the place to receive it, and Clyde winning the competition to see the Mona Lisa with that piece of artwork was highly unlikely as well. Anyone hoping to see “This is a fake” would have been disappointed as well.
There were, however, some interesting points in the story. Drawings coming to life is an attractive concept I’ve long enjoyed, and I’m sure many people would love to talk to the Mona Lisa should she ever become flesh. Like the Professor here, no doubt there would be a bit of an element of hero worship. Lisa’s brother the Abomination being painted by meteoric minerals from outer space was a truly strange idea that ultimately went nowhere. I don’t particularly like Suranne Jones or the way she characterized Lisa, but to each her own. SJS had very little to do. The Highwayman is an armed thug who I thought was going to become of great importance to the story since she was clearly a woman dressed up as a highwayman! However, he was played by a man and never spoke. What a missed opportunity. I suppose that could be said for that story as a whole.
“The Gift” was written by newcomer Rupert Laight and lacked the urgency of the previous seasons’ series enders, so much so that I didn’t realize it was the last story! However, there were some very endearing touches to this one. Yes, it featured the Slitheen/Blathereen again, but in a mostly novel way. Again I was struck by how cute baby Slitheen are.
The Blathereen pair of Leaf and Tree are voiced by a pair of accomplished actors whose voices were so familiar I spent much of the first episode trying to figure out who they were, and much of the second fixated on them after I had read the credits! Like Rani I very much wanted to believe that the Blathereen’s offers were genuine, though SJS was as usual correct to be over-cautious. Clyde taking K9 to school with him to help pass his exams was a harebrained, Clyde-thing to do and fortunately allowed the story to move along when it seemed our heroes might be defeated!
Luke was out for most of the story having been infected by rackweed and near death (apparently). I began to wonder if he is being written out of the series as he seemed to be sidelined from the action a lot this series. SJS also seemed mostly ineffective until the second part. “Profit is our progeny!” the Blathereen cackle. I found it very significant that the crux of Torchwood: Children of Earth was horrible aliens using human children as drugs, while in a much milder form, the Blathereen are planning to use Earth to fuel their own addiction to rackweed. Fortunately before this can happen Rani, Clyde, and K9 are “saved by the bell.” From here, things wrap up mostly neat and tidy, but the best bits are yet to come.
When Mr Smith amplifies the frequency of the school bell to kill the rackweed, Rani considerately covers K9’s ears! When people’s mobile phones emit this noise it thoughtfully says “Mr Smith calling” on the screen. J The rather graphic but very well-written course of action SJS takes against the Blathereen is bookended by an extremely funny, “There should have been another way!”
best radio 09
Top Ten Radio Plays, June-December 2009
10. The Beaux’ Stratagem (George Farquar)
A Restoration stage play about husbands and wives adapted, surprisingly, for radio. It was very silly but translated well as it was speeches, singing, and would NOT have benefited from a laugh track. The actors were having the times of their lives hamming it up- Boniface the innkeeper and his ale, for example. And I liked all the usual cracks about church, Frenchmen, the country, etc. It certainly had the flavor of Marriage of Figaro or Cosí fan Tutte if not all of the charm. At least the woman got her divorce at the end!
9. Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers (Rob Grant & Doug Naylor)
Speaking of Red Dwarf, imagine my delight when I found this new instalment of the comedy on BBC7. It’s a multi-parter and I’m kind of cheating because I’ve just heard the first instalment, but so far it’s been very enjoyable. While technically it’s Chris Barrie (Rimmer) reading from the new book of the same name, his ability to do voices, plus the appropriate sound effects, make it almost a full-cast play. (His Dave Lister is quite miraculous!) I’m amazed at how well Red Dwarf translates to radio, but it’s all down the clever, cynical, silly writing.
8. Bleak Expectations (Mark Evans)
I listened to all but one of the third series of this Dickens spoof, and I have to say I found it quite addictive the more formulaic it became. It starred Tom Allen as the young Pip Bin, Anthony Head as his nemesis Mr Gently Benevolent, James Bachman as Pip Bin’s sidekick Harry Biscuit, and Geoffrey Whitehead as Wackwallop. Harry Biscuit’s inventions that never worked (“I need more swans!”) as well as his catchphrase “Harrumble!” pleased me to no end, as did Pip Bin being tortured by “cheeseboarding,” as did the dreadful puns (“the town of Coke and its suburb, Diet Coke”). Perhaps my favorite was A Sort of Fine Life De-Niced Completely, in which Mr Benevolent was disguised with a West Country accent and catapulted a metaphor-spinning urchin into a balloon.
7. Cadfael: Dead Man’s Ransom (Ellis Peters/Burt Cootes)
Narrated by Michael Kitchen, this play should wipe from your mind the version with Derek Jacobi and bring you closer to Cadfael’s Welsh roots. Philip Madoc was superb as the Benedictine sleuth (though I keep thinking it’s my former professor Nigel!). I often find narration in radio plays obtrusive, but this was fine. It had some great period music, and split into five parts seemed just about right— the cliffhangers, with one exception, were quite meaty.
6. Night Talker (Danny John-Jules)
No, I did not realize this was written by the Cat from Red Dwarf until just now when I thought the name sounded familiar. All thoughts of celebrity aside, this was a delightful gem broadcast on BBC7 in the days leading up to Halloween (among many very well-done thematic plays for the spookiest time of the year). For a 20-minute play this was superb. Night DJ Andy Stone is a jerk, putting his listeners and co-workers down, but in the course of a few minutes we learn he lost his twin brother, his birthday is Halloween, he hasn’t seen his parents in years, and he’s in love with his producer! Was it spooks in the studio? Sort of in the vein of Frank from last year--♥
5. Blue Veils and Golden Sands (Martin Wade)
Martin Wade seems to be showing up as often in the last few months as Nick Warburton did last year. That’s okay, he’s a competent writer and really shone in this unusual and, to a Doctor Who fan, highly interesting bio-drama. DW fans may already recognize the title. The subject is Delia Derbyshire, the lady who, in the 1960s, took Ron Grainer’s composition for the Doctor Who theme and used then-cutting edge Radiophonic Workshop techniques to render it. She wasn’t given credit for her contribution until much later, and to be honest, though I admired that a woman had made such a big contribution to DW in the ‘60s (like Verity Lambert), I didn’t know a thing about her. I had no idea that a) she went to Cambridge; b) that she financed it by selling presents people had given her; c) that she was a chronic alcoholic and socially inept; d) that she was brilliant and just wanted to be recognized; e) that she was totally bonkers! If these facts intrigue you, listen to this very moving, eye opening, and winningly acted (Sophie Thompson was great as Delia) play.
4. The Voyage of the Demeter (Robert Forrest)
I listened to this on Halloween in the dark, which was a bad move. I didn’t realize until the very end that this was basically fan fiction for Dracula, but at that point I didn’t care. It was scary, scary stuff. Marine voyages can be claustrophobic at the best of times, but all the actors ramped up their performances to give us the sounds of madness, of becoming unhinged, and Dracula himself was sophisticated and very scary. It was sufficiently free-standing to enjoy, but it helped if you knew that Dracula came from Romania (according to Stoker of course!) in boxes of earth aboard a Russian ship called the Demeter . . . A nice bookend for the adaptation of Dracula I heard on BBC7 in February.
3. The Penny Dreadfuls Present: Guy Fawkes (David Reed, Humphrey Ker, Thom Tuck)
I am not entirely clear how staged versions of radio plays recorded in front of a live audience work, but this one seemed to. It’s a version (half comedy, half history) of an event which all British children are taught at school- but, being an American, I only knew rudiments beyond what was explained to me in V for Vendetta. This set the record straight. Its humor was goofy, Horrible Histories-style. It was also intelligent and went very in depth into the characters and motivations. Percy’s studied dullness, Waad’s pantomime villainy mixed with thoughtful insight bounced wonderfully off Guy Fawkes’ zeal.
2. A Dangerous Thing (John Sessions)
I’m not sure what the dangerous thing is that’s referred to in the title. John Sessions was first known to me as the voice of Tom Baker in Dead Ringers and later it came to my knowledge that he had auditioned for the part of the Eighth Doctor. While I’m annoyed that such topics as this play can only come to radio with a heavyweight like him behind them (or maybe it’s sour grapes), I was heartened upon hearing this piece because it’s very similar to the style and subjects upon which I love to write. It’s a retrospective on the friendship between little Alexander Pope (John Sessions) and satiric Jonathan Swift (Timothy Spall). It combines John Adams with City of Vice with old skool historical writing— but that’s allowed because Pope and Swift can get away punning and prima-donna-ing. I love when you find a play that you strongly suspected would be your cup of tea, and it is.
1. Chimes of Midnight (Rob Shearman)
Just over a year ago, I heard the first two episodes of this Eighth Doctor/Charley story and knew it was going to be as good as they said it was. My only complaint is that it gets a bit talky in the third episode, but other than that it’s an almost flawless example of audio writing done well. It does have a seasonal theme (“Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Mrs Batterly’s plum pudding”), which perhaps invokes Dickens[1] (the play could certainly be said to have things in common with “Blink,” “The Unicorn and the Wasp,” “Kinda,” “Paradise Lost,” “Age of Steel,” “The End of the World,” etc). The opening could easily be clunky in the hands of a lesser writer, but the fact Charley and the Doctor materialize in darkness is great for audio listeners and forces them, as well as Charley, to use all of the five senses. It sets up a wonderfully intriguing mystery in an Edwardian house where time is behaving in all sorts of strange ways. Then there are the murders, all of them grotesque and surreal. Who is Edward Grove? Even if you think you have it figured out, you won’t guess the Frankenstein-like twist. The ending is so poignant and moving, tied up in Charley’s past and her love of the Doctor- it was perfect for the team that is India Fisher and Paul McGann. “We chose life.”
I should also mention:
I listened to quite a few of the BBC7 repeats of the second series of Mark Gatiss’ Man in Black, some of which were very weird indeed (there was a disturbing one where a man was about to get married and he was pursued by the phantom of his future self who’d become a drunken murderer due to the marriage; though perhaps the most memorable was Crawley being invaded by zombies).
I also listened to quite a few of Dickens Confidential by Mike Walker. I really liked the premise of these, but found some of the writing to be pat and too cutesy by half. It’s Dickens as a newspaper writer with his novelistic career just taking off. Recurring characters include budding reporters Agnes (posh, subjugated, and possibly eyed by Dickens) and Daniel (northern, bumbling, well-meaning). My favorite of the plays was Why Are We in Afghanistan? Dickens in these plays is a dreadful misogynist and class-ist as well as obsessed with social justice- probably as near to a balanced portrait of Dickens as we’re likely to get. I enjoyed the cynical tone about how the Crimea started. I also liked the bomb-on-balloon (only on radio- surprisingly the conventions like “look, we’re descending” were not irritating).
The Female Ghost, all directed by Marian Ann Carey, was a trio of very strong adaptations of ghost stories written by women with a distinctly feminine twist, just in time for Halloween. My favorite was “The Cold Embrace” by Mary Elizabeth Braddon; Jonathan Firth was perfectly cast as a selfish German artist who abandons his fiancée who subsequently drowns herself. The final scene is at the Paris Opera Shrovetide Ball, which of course I loved. “Man-Sized Marble” was unnerving; two poor but happy artists in their little cottage, the superstitious local woman, the Irish rationalist doctor . . . and two stone villains who come out of their tombs to kill them! “Afterward” was just one of many plays that featured Americans; not surprisingly as it was written by Edith Wharton.
I heard three of The Newly Discovered Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Anthony Her, a silly spoof much in the vein of Bleak Expectations, though perhaps even more outrageous, with Roy Hudd as Holmes and Geoffrey Holland as Watson. Holmes being described as a “toffee-nosed ponce” never ceased to amuse me, as did his constant bitch-fests with Mrs Hudson. The stories included Tweeny Sod and his pornographic lantern shows and the slightly offensive tale of a Chinese botanist/drug dealer/laundrette. The best joke was easily when Watson asked the name of the music hall singer, “Ellie Mentry, my dear Watson.” Also it had a real knack for sly winks at the listener: “By God there’s an orchestra in here with us!”
It’s very seldom I listen to readings of books as serialized on radio, but I stuck with The Canterville Ghost as read by Alistair McGowan because I’d wanted to read the book for a long time. It was well-realized, funny, and sad. I loved how the theme music communicated all the moods perfectly. Also again the plucky, rational, vulgar Americans tearing down British superstition!
I’m ashamed to say I listened to the first three episodes of Chain Gang and then stopped and never wrote in with a storyline, despite the suitably sci fi direction in which things were headed (it was written by Shearman, after all!).
10. The Beaux’ Stratagem (George Farquar)
A Restoration stage play about husbands and wives adapted, surprisingly, for radio. It was very silly but translated well as it was speeches, singing, and would NOT have benefited from a laugh track. The actors were having the times of their lives hamming it up- Boniface the innkeeper and his ale, for example. And I liked all the usual cracks about church, Frenchmen, the country, etc. It certainly had the flavor of Marriage of Figaro or Cosí fan Tutte if not all of the charm. At least the woman got her divorce at the end!
9. Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers (Rob Grant & Doug Naylor)
Speaking of Red Dwarf, imagine my delight when I found this new instalment of the comedy on BBC7. It’s a multi-parter and I’m kind of cheating because I’ve just heard the first instalment, but so far it’s been very enjoyable. While technically it’s Chris Barrie (Rimmer) reading from the new book of the same name, his ability to do voices, plus the appropriate sound effects, make it almost a full-cast play. (His Dave Lister is quite miraculous!) I’m amazed at how well Red Dwarf translates to radio, but it’s all down the clever, cynical, silly writing.
8. Bleak Expectations (Mark Evans)
I listened to all but one of the third series of this Dickens spoof, and I have to say I found it quite addictive the more formulaic it became. It starred Tom Allen as the young Pip Bin, Anthony Head as his nemesis Mr Gently Benevolent, James Bachman as Pip Bin’s sidekick Harry Biscuit, and Geoffrey Whitehead as Wackwallop. Harry Biscuit’s inventions that never worked (“I need more swans!”) as well as his catchphrase “Harrumble!” pleased me to no end, as did Pip Bin being tortured by “cheeseboarding,” as did the dreadful puns (“the town of Coke and its suburb, Diet Coke”). Perhaps my favorite was A Sort of Fine Life De-Niced Completely, in which Mr Benevolent was disguised with a West Country accent and catapulted a metaphor-spinning urchin into a balloon.
7. Cadfael: Dead Man’s Ransom (Ellis Peters/Burt Cootes)
Narrated by Michael Kitchen, this play should wipe from your mind the version with Derek Jacobi and bring you closer to Cadfael’s Welsh roots. Philip Madoc was superb as the Benedictine sleuth (though I keep thinking it’s my former professor Nigel!). I often find narration in radio plays obtrusive, but this was fine. It had some great period music, and split into five parts seemed just about right— the cliffhangers, with one exception, were quite meaty.
6. Night Talker (Danny John-Jules)
No, I did not realize this was written by the Cat from Red Dwarf until just now when I thought the name sounded familiar. All thoughts of celebrity aside, this was a delightful gem broadcast on BBC7 in the days leading up to Halloween (among many very well-done thematic plays for the spookiest time of the year). For a 20-minute play this was superb. Night DJ Andy Stone is a jerk, putting his listeners and co-workers down, but in the course of a few minutes we learn he lost his twin brother, his birthday is Halloween, he hasn’t seen his parents in years, and he’s in love with his producer! Was it spooks in the studio? Sort of in the vein of Frank from last year--♥
5. Blue Veils and Golden Sands (Martin Wade)
Martin Wade seems to be showing up as often in the last few months as Nick Warburton did last year. That’s okay, he’s a competent writer and really shone in this unusual and, to a Doctor Who fan, highly interesting bio-drama. DW fans may already recognize the title. The subject is Delia Derbyshire, the lady who, in the 1960s, took Ron Grainer’s composition for the Doctor Who theme and used then-cutting edge Radiophonic Workshop techniques to render it. She wasn’t given credit for her contribution until much later, and to be honest, though I admired that a woman had made such a big contribution to DW in the ‘60s (like Verity Lambert), I didn’t know a thing about her. I had no idea that a) she went to Cambridge; b) that she financed it by selling presents people had given her; c) that she was a chronic alcoholic and socially inept; d) that she was brilliant and just wanted to be recognized; e) that she was totally bonkers! If these facts intrigue you, listen to this very moving, eye opening, and winningly acted (Sophie Thompson was great as Delia) play.
4. The Voyage of the Demeter (Robert Forrest)
I listened to this on Halloween in the dark, which was a bad move. I didn’t realize until the very end that this was basically fan fiction for Dracula, but at that point I didn’t care. It was scary, scary stuff. Marine voyages can be claustrophobic at the best of times, but all the actors ramped up their performances to give us the sounds of madness, of becoming unhinged, and Dracula himself was sophisticated and very scary. It was sufficiently free-standing to enjoy, but it helped if you knew that Dracula came from Romania (according to Stoker of course!) in boxes of earth aboard a Russian ship called the Demeter . . . A nice bookend for the adaptation of Dracula I heard on BBC7 in February.
3. The Penny Dreadfuls Present: Guy Fawkes (David Reed, Humphrey Ker, Thom Tuck)
I am not entirely clear how staged versions of radio plays recorded in front of a live audience work, but this one seemed to. It’s a version (half comedy, half history) of an event which all British children are taught at school- but, being an American, I only knew rudiments beyond what was explained to me in V for Vendetta. This set the record straight. Its humor was goofy, Horrible Histories-style. It was also intelligent and went very in depth into the characters and motivations. Percy’s studied dullness, Waad’s pantomime villainy mixed with thoughtful insight bounced wonderfully off Guy Fawkes’ zeal.
2. A Dangerous Thing (John Sessions)
I’m not sure what the dangerous thing is that’s referred to in the title. John Sessions was first known to me as the voice of Tom Baker in Dead Ringers and later it came to my knowledge that he had auditioned for the part of the Eighth Doctor. While I’m annoyed that such topics as this play can only come to radio with a heavyweight like him behind them (or maybe it’s sour grapes), I was heartened upon hearing this piece because it’s very similar to the style and subjects upon which I love to write. It’s a retrospective on the friendship between little Alexander Pope (John Sessions) and satiric Jonathan Swift (Timothy Spall). It combines John Adams with City of Vice with old skool historical writing— but that’s allowed because Pope and Swift can get away punning and prima-donna-ing. I love when you find a play that you strongly suspected would be your cup of tea, and it is.
1. Chimes of Midnight (Rob Shearman)
Just over a year ago, I heard the first two episodes of this Eighth Doctor/Charley story and knew it was going to be as good as they said it was. My only complaint is that it gets a bit talky in the third episode, but other than that it’s an almost flawless example of audio writing done well. It does have a seasonal theme (“Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Mrs Batterly’s plum pudding”), which perhaps invokes Dickens[1] (the play could certainly be said to have things in common with “Blink,” “The Unicorn and the Wasp,” “Kinda,” “Paradise Lost,” “Age of Steel,” “The End of the World,” etc). The opening could easily be clunky in the hands of a lesser writer, but the fact Charley and the Doctor materialize in darkness is great for audio listeners and forces them, as well as Charley, to use all of the five senses. It sets up a wonderfully intriguing mystery in an Edwardian house where time is behaving in all sorts of strange ways. Then there are the murders, all of them grotesque and surreal. Who is Edward Grove? Even if you think you have it figured out, you won’t guess the Frankenstein-like twist. The ending is so poignant and moving, tied up in Charley’s past and her love of the Doctor- it was perfect for the team that is India Fisher and Paul McGann. “We chose life.”
I should also mention:
I listened to quite a few of the BBC7 repeats of the second series of Mark Gatiss’ Man in Black, some of which were very weird indeed (there was a disturbing one where a man was about to get married and he was pursued by the phantom of his future self who’d become a drunken murderer due to the marriage; though perhaps the most memorable was Crawley being invaded by zombies).
I also listened to quite a few of Dickens Confidential by Mike Walker. I really liked the premise of these, but found some of the writing to be pat and too cutesy by half. It’s Dickens as a newspaper writer with his novelistic career just taking off. Recurring characters include budding reporters Agnes (posh, subjugated, and possibly eyed by Dickens) and Daniel (northern, bumbling, well-meaning). My favorite of the plays was Why Are We in Afghanistan? Dickens in these plays is a dreadful misogynist and class-ist as well as obsessed with social justice- probably as near to a balanced portrait of Dickens as we’re likely to get. I enjoyed the cynical tone about how the Crimea started. I also liked the bomb-on-balloon (only on radio- surprisingly the conventions like “look, we’re descending” were not irritating).
The Female Ghost, all directed by Marian Ann Carey, was a trio of very strong adaptations of ghost stories written by women with a distinctly feminine twist, just in time for Halloween. My favorite was “The Cold Embrace” by Mary Elizabeth Braddon; Jonathan Firth was perfectly cast as a selfish German artist who abandons his fiancée who subsequently drowns herself. The final scene is at the Paris Opera Shrovetide Ball, which of course I loved. “Man-Sized Marble” was unnerving; two poor but happy artists in their little cottage, the superstitious local woman, the Irish rationalist doctor . . . and two stone villains who come out of their tombs to kill them! “Afterward” was just one of many plays that featured Americans; not surprisingly as it was written by Edith Wharton.
I heard three of The Newly Discovered Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Anthony Her, a silly spoof much in the vein of Bleak Expectations, though perhaps even more outrageous, with Roy Hudd as Holmes and Geoffrey Holland as Watson. Holmes being described as a “toffee-nosed ponce” never ceased to amuse me, as did his constant bitch-fests with Mrs Hudson. The stories included Tweeny Sod and his pornographic lantern shows and the slightly offensive tale of a Chinese botanist/drug dealer/laundrette. The best joke was easily when Watson asked the name of the music hall singer, “Ellie Mentry, my dear Watson.” Also it had a real knack for sly winks at the listener: “By God there’s an orchestra in here with us!”
It’s very seldom I listen to readings of books as serialized on radio, but I stuck with The Canterville Ghost as read by Alistair McGowan because I’d wanted to read the book for a long time. It was well-realized, funny, and sad. I loved how the theme music communicated all the moods perfectly. Also again the plucky, rational, vulgar Americans tearing down British superstition!
I’m ashamed to say I listened to the first three episodes of Chain Gang and then stopped and never wrote in with a storyline, despite the suitably sci fi direction in which things were headed (it was written by Shearman, after all!).
doctor who audios (listened to in 2009)
Phobos (Eddie Robson)
This had some things in common with Max Warp- extreme sports on the moons of Mars while a monster that feeds on pleasure/fear makes the Doctor feel as guilty about his martyrdom as Davros did in “Journey’s End.” McGann rocked my socks but Sheridan Smith was curiously subdued.
Immortal Beloved (Jonathan Clements)
This wasn’t as ridiculous as it first seemed, and Zeus was actually extremely well-acted and well-written. The concept was all about cloning and re-zapping your mind into your younger clone’s body- very far out there and full of weird sci fi contexts, wrapped in a shell of ancient Greek mythology, and some very fresh-faced (voiced?) young actors. McGann very talky but reliable as ever.
No More Lies (Paul Sutton)
A very unusual one in both setting and structure- genuinely moving and some lovely banter between the Doctor and Lucie. The posh party setting was fun and the music lyrical- for once the back and forth structure was not particularly grating.
The Angel of Scutari (Paul Sutton)
Tolstoy and Ace as an impressive double act, the Doctor escaping with the help of a golden spoon, a hug that saves the day, a shameful secret revealed, and the phrase “I’ll explain later” used! The plot in Angel of Scutari is necessarily complicated because of the timeline issue, and though I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, it does.
Human Resources
Best cliffhanger ever heard on Doctor Who audio. McGann was wonderful pretending to be management in a cookie-cutter company- the satire was biting but a little too cutesy in places. One of the company management staff was absolutely appalling- and so true to life!
Sisters of the Flame (Nick Briggs)
There’s no sign of Ohica, but the Sisters of Karn are trying to make a comeback. Lucie made an unlikely pairing with Rosto, appealingly (for a giant centipede) played by Alexander Siddig.
Companion Chronicles: The Glorious Revolution
A bit of circumlocutious storytelling from Jamie McCrimmon forty years after travelling with the Doctor and having his memories erased- he recalls meeting the weary monarch James II and altering the course of history despite the Doctor’s admonitions to the contrary. This is a straight historical with a good Troughton flavor to it; indeed, Fraser Hines’ invocation of Troughton is astonishingly good. It also has a very poignant ending with much in common with “Journey’s End.”
Companion Chronicles: Transit of Venus (Jacqueline Rayner)
Bizarre play with the simple premise of Ian recalling one of his adventures with the Doctor, Barbara, and Susan- this is clearly Ian’s show, though, and William Russell more than rises to the occasion. Another pure historical set in 1770 in the South Seas with Captain Cook, it’s written cannily and plays to Ian’s strengths. Rayner clearly understands the bond between Ian and Barbara and writes with that in mind.
This had some things in common with Max Warp- extreme sports on the moons of Mars while a monster that feeds on pleasure/fear makes the Doctor feel as guilty about his martyrdom as Davros did in “Journey’s End.” McGann rocked my socks but Sheridan Smith was curiously subdued.
Immortal Beloved (Jonathan Clements)
This wasn’t as ridiculous as it first seemed, and Zeus was actually extremely well-acted and well-written. The concept was all about cloning and re-zapping your mind into your younger clone’s body- very far out there and full of weird sci fi contexts, wrapped in a shell of ancient Greek mythology, and some very fresh-faced (voiced?) young actors. McGann very talky but reliable as ever.
No More Lies (Paul Sutton)
A very unusual one in both setting and structure- genuinely moving and some lovely banter between the Doctor and Lucie. The posh party setting was fun and the music lyrical- for once the back and forth structure was not particularly grating.
The Angel of Scutari (Paul Sutton)
Tolstoy and Ace as an impressive double act, the Doctor escaping with the help of a golden spoon, a hug that saves the day, a shameful secret revealed, and the phrase “I’ll explain later” used! The plot in Angel of Scutari is necessarily complicated because of the timeline issue, and though I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, it does.
Human Resources
Best cliffhanger ever heard on Doctor Who audio. McGann was wonderful pretending to be management in a cookie-cutter company- the satire was biting but a little too cutesy in places. One of the company management staff was absolutely appalling- and so true to life!
Sisters of the Flame (Nick Briggs)
There’s no sign of Ohica, but the Sisters of Karn are trying to make a comeback. Lucie made an unlikely pairing with Rosto, appealingly (for a giant centipede) played by Alexander Siddig.
Companion Chronicles: The Glorious Revolution
A bit of circumlocutious storytelling from Jamie McCrimmon forty years after travelling with the Doctor and having his memories erased- he recalls meeting the weary monarch James II and altering the course of history despite the Doctor’s admonitions to the contrary. This is a straight historical with a good Troughton flavor to it; indeed, Fraser Hines’ invocation of Troughton is astonishingly good. It also has a very poignant ending with much in common with “Journey’s End.”
Companion Chronicles: Transit of Venus (Jacqueline Rayner)
Bizarre play with the simple premise of Ian recalling one of his adventures with the Doctor, Barbara, and Susan- this is clearly Ian’s show, though, and William Russell more than rises to the occasion. Another pure historical set in 1770 in the South Seas with Captain Cook, it’s written cannily and plays to Ian’s strengths. Rayner clearly understands the bond between Ian and Barbara and writes with that in mind.
top books 2009
[I wrote this on December 23, 2009 but couldn't post it right away]
I eschewed a strictly top ten ranked favorite books of the year because the top tier just didn’t add up to ten for me, and while all the books in the next tier were highly deserving, I couldn’t really elevate them. So we’ll just call it a conglomeration of books!
Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis (Wendy Cope)
I’ve put poetry on this list for the first time even though I think I separated it out last year with the graphic novels. This is because I read a lot of poetry this year, and a lot of outstanding poetry. I absolutely loved this collection by Wendy Cope; she’s one of my favorite poets. I love her wit, sarcasm, self-deprecation, but she never seems to stray into all-out angst, and she’s never apologetic for being what she is.
Short Trips: How the Doctor Changed My Life (ed. Simon Guerrier)
I have separated out my Doctor Who books even though I enjoyed many of them; however, this collection of short stories was so good I really thought it deserved to be on this list. These were all the first-time writers who were judged to be good enough in the contest in 2007, and I had good things to say about almost every story. Whether or not it’s fair to compare them to writers who write Who all the time, who have skill but have perhaps lost the wide-eyed spark, this collection has many talented writers and many enjoyable stories.
The Writer’s Tale (Russell T Davies and Benjamin Cook)
This doesn’t really count as a Doctor Who book as it’s more a book about writing, and one of the best on the subject I have ever read. I’ve digested many in this genre- from Strunk & White to Natalie Goldberg- and few of them are both so candid and so encouraging. Y.A.N.A is what RTD wrote in the context of “Utopia,” but that also seems to be the message to any writer who recognizes crippling self-doubt, absurd procrastination, late night bursts of creativity, and riding by the seat of your pants as part of the literary endeavour. How comforting to know it happens, too, to the greats. Also, as far as technique for screenwriting/telewriting at least, it’s extremely useful. Also very funny and so enjoyable you’re left wanting more despite its 500+ pages.
Rapture (Carol Ann Duffy)
I’m not such a wholehearted fan of Carol Ann Duffy as I have been of Wendy Cope, though I have liked several of her poems. However, this collection was elegant, self-contained, and almost every poem touching. It charted a love affair that blossomed and then faded. It’s traditionally very hard to write love poetry in all the different stages: when we haven’t got it, it’s comparatively easy; after a point when you’re at the ecstatic stage you run out of things to say. However, I thought she covered every nuance of the stages of love with remarkable empathy and feeling.
Dear Fatty (Dawn French)
I seem to have read a lot of celebrity autobiographies this year, a genre I hitherto looked at with disdain. However, I can see their appeal (especially if well-written). Dawn French’s book really made me laugh on nearly every page. As many of these books have a “gimmick,” French’s was her life divided into chapters as letters to differentpeople significant to different parts of her life. Many letters were addressed to her father, who committed suicide when she was in her teens. I loved her letters to her daughter and to her husband Lenny Henry; my heart was hugely warmed by their love story. The Fatty of the title, by the way, is Jennifer Saunders, to whom many of the letters are also addressed.
Too Many Mothers (Roberta Taylor)
This is another sort of in the same style, but quite different in content and context. Besides, Roberta Taylor wasn’t a “celebrity” to me in the sense Dawn French or John Barrowman were- I only knew her in the context of her role in a Peter Davison Big Finish play and as a character in The Bill. So I was quite unprepared for how much I enjoyed this candid and well-structured memoir. Taylor’s is, in my opinion, the best kind of “creative nonfiction” in imagining narratives for her grandmother, mother, aunts, and other family members during the first half of the twentieth century. Subtitled “an East End childhood,” the story is often dark and bleak but also funny and a portrait of a family of strong women.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (Sherman Alexie)
I have observed that books my sister recommends are either total misses with me or, less often, really succeed. This is one of the latter. I’d seen Alexie deliver a talk at UNM in 2007 but had never read anything of his. This partial memoir, partial fiction was also a partial graphic memoir with delightfully forthright illustrations. Like Alexie, Junior comes from a Reservation family, was born with water on the brain which accounts for his slightly goofy appearance, and goes to school off the Rez in order to increase his chances of ever becoming someone. The book is alternatively hilarious, sobering, and (I think) accessible even to white girls like myself.
Desolation Island (Patrick O’Brian)
What can I say? I left The Mauritius Command off last year’s list because I honestly didn’t think it was among the top ten, but Desolation Island, the fifth book in the Master and Commander series, exceeds all expectations once more. How O’Brian combines great danger and intricate plot with a convincing portrait of 19th century seamanship with superbly lifelike and irresistible characters is always a joy to read. In this adventure Captain Jack Aubrey is charged with delivering convicts to Australia but the disease, natural disaster, and mutiny he encounters tests all his powers of courage and valour. Likewise, Dr. Stephen Maturin is on board and must work his dual roles as spy and physician while coping with his constant heartbreak over Diana Villiers. Unmissable.
Runners up: Anything Goes (John & Carole Barrowman) is another in the celebrity autobiography strand, but extremely funny and for the most part, remarkably well-told. Of special mention are the photographs embedded inside. I plan to read the “sequel.” The Black Swan (Nassim Nicholas Taleb) is probably the most mind-altering book I read this year, though since it’s seated firmly in the realm of economics and probability (like Stumbling on Happiness last year, if I recall correctly) I did glaze over some sections. It is one that probably everyone should read, though like Stumbling on Happiness anyone looking for a quick fix is likely to be disappointed, as both books tell you what you can’t predict rather than how to predict anything of significance. The Bridges of Madison County was recommended by my friend Nasim as one of the books that changed her life, and indeed while I went in expecting a great deal of soppy soap opera, the book’s brevity and simplicity matched the depth of its feeling and I admit I cried while reading it. Ways of Seeing (John Berger) was another high-brow book about art criticism that nevertheless had much of relevance to say. Living to Tell the Tale (Gabriel Garcia Márquez) was possibly the best book I’ve yet read by this talented author. Yet again it was autobiographical but with the dreamlike, circumlocutious storytelling one comes to expect from mí papito rico. Anyone expecting insights into the master’s life on par with those palpable ones from RTD in A Writer’s Tale will be disappointed, but on a more general level, much of the inspiration for Márquez’s oeuvre becomes delightfully clear. Real Swansea (Nigel Jenkins) should be required reading for anyone remotely connected with the “ugly, lovely town.”
I eschewed a strictly top ten ranked favorite books of the year because the top tier just didn’t add up to ten for me, and while all the books in the next tier were highly deserving, I couldn’t really elevate them. So we’ll just call it a conglomeration of books!
Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis (Wendy Cope)
I’ve put poetry on this list for the first time even though I think I separated it out last year with the graphic novels. This is because I read a lot of poetry this year, and a lot of outstanding poetry. I absolutely loved this collection by Wendy Cope; she’s one of my favorite poets. I love her wit, sarcasm, self-deprecation, but she never seems to stray into all-out angst, and she’s never apologetic for being what she is.
Short Trips: How the Doctor Changed My Life (ed. Simon Guerrier)
I have separated out my Doctor Who books even though I enjoyed many of them; however, this collection of short stories was so good I really thought it deserved to be on this list. These were all the first-time writers who were judged to be good enough in the contest in 2007, and I had good things to say about almost every story. Whether or not it’s fair to compare them to writers who write Who all the time, who have skill but have perhaps lost the wide-eyed spark, this collection has many talented writers and many enjoyable stories.
The Writer’s Tale (Russell T Davies and Benjamin Cook)
This doesn’t really count as a Doctor Who book as it’s more a book about writing, and one of the best on the subject I have ever read. I’ve digested many in this genre- from Strunk & White to Natalie Goldberg- and few of them are both so candid and so encouraging. Y.A.N.A is what RTD wrote in the context of “Utopia,” but that also seems to be the message to any writer who recognizes crippling self-doubt, absurd procrastination, late night bursts of creativity, and riding by the seat of your pants as part of the literary endeavour. How comforting to know it happens, too, to the greats. Also, as far as technique for screenwriting/telewriting at least, it’s extremely useful. Also very funny and so enjoyable you’re left wanting more despite its 500+ pages.
Rapture (Carol Ann Duffy)
I’m not such a wholehearted fan of Carol Ann Duffy as I have been of Wendy Cope, though I have liked several of her poems. However, this collection was elegant, self-contained, and almost every poem touching. It charted a love affair that blossomed and then faded. It’s traditionally very hard to write love poetry in all the different stages: when we haven’t got it, it’s comparatively easy; after a point when you’re at the ecstatic stage you run out of things to say. However, I thought she covered every nuance of the stages of love with remarkable empathy and feeling.
Dear Fatty (Dawn French)
I seem to have read a lot of celebrity autobiographies this year, a genre I hitherto looked at with disdain. However, I can see their appeal (especially if well-written). Dawn French’s book really made me laugh on nearly every page. As many of these books have a “gimmick,” French’s was her life divided into chapters as letters to differentpeople significant to different parts of her life. Many letters were addressed to her father, who committed suicide when she was in her teens. I loved her letters to her daughter and to her husband Lenny Henry; my heart was hugely warmed by their love story. The Fatty of the title, by the way, is Jennifer Saunders, to whom many of the letters are also addressed.
Too Many Mothers (Roberta Taylor)
This is another sort of in the same style, but quite different in content and context. Besides, Roberta Taylor wasn’t a “celebrity” to me in the sense Dawn French or John Barrowman were- I only knew her in the context of her role in a Peter Davison Big Finish play and as a character in The Bill. So I was quite unprepared for how much I enjoyed this candid and well-structured memoir. Taylor’s is, in my opinion, the best kind of “creative nonfiction” in imagining narratives for her grandmother, mother, aunts, and other family members during the first half of the twentieth century. Subtitled “an East End childhood,” the story is often dark and bleak but also funny and a portrait of a family of strong women.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (Sherman Alexie)
I have observed that books my sister recommends are either total misses with me or, less often, really succeed. This is one of the latter. I’d seen Alexie deliver a talk at UNM in 2007 but had never read anything of his. This partial memoir, partial fiction was also a partial graphic memoir with delightfully forthright illustrations. Like Alexie, Junior comes from a Reservation family, was born with water on the brain which accounts for his slightly goofy appearance, and goes to school off the Rez in order to increase his chances of ever becoming someone. The book is alternatively hilarious, sobering, and (I think) accessible even to white girls like myself.
Desolation Island (Patrick O’Brian)
What can I say? I left The Mauritius Command off last year’s list because I honestly didn’t think it was among the top ten, but Desolation Island, the fifth book in the Master and Commander series, exceeds all expectations once more. How O’Brian combines great danger and intricate plot with a convincing portrait of 19th century seamanship with superbly lifelike and irresistible characters is always a joy to read. In this adventure Captain Jack Aubrey is charged with delivering convicts to Australia but the disease, natural disaster, and mutiny he encounters tests all his powers of courage and valour. Likewise, Dr. Stephen Maturin is on board and must work his dual roles as spy and physician while coping with his constant heartbreak over Diana Villiers. Unmissable.
Runners up: Anything Goes (John & Carole Barrowman) is another in the celebrity autobiography strand, but extremely funny and for the most part, remarkably well-told. Of special mention are the photographs embedded inside. I plan to read the “sequel.” The Black Swan (Nassim Nicholas Taleb) is probably the most mind-altering book I read this year, though since it’s seated firmly in the realm of economics and probability (like Stumbling on Happiness last year, if I recall correctly) I did glaze over some sections. It is one that probably everyone should read, though like Stumbling on Happiness anyone looking for a quick fix is likely to be disappointed, as both books tell you what you can’t predict rather than how to predict anything of significance. The Bridges of Madison County was recommended by my friend Nasim as one of the books that changed her life, and indeed while I went in expecting a great deal of soppy soap opera, the book’s brevity and simplicity matched the depth of its feeling and I admit I cried while reading it. Ways of Seeing (John Berger) was another high-brow book about art criticism that nevertheless had much of relevance to say. Living to Tell the Tale (Gabriel Garcia Márquez) was possibly the best book I’ve yet read by this talented author. Yet again it was autobiographical but with the dreamlike, circumlocutious storytelling one comes to expect from mí papito rico. Anyone expecting insights into the master’s life on par with those palpable ones from RTD in A Writer’s Tale will be disappointed, but on a more general level, much of the inspiration for Márquez’s oeuvre becomes delightfully clear. Real Swansea (Nigel Jenkins) should be required reading for anyone remotely connected with the “ugly, lovely town.”
two graphic novels
I doubt you can find two graphic novels that are more dissimilar: Gene L. Yang’s semi-autobiographical American Born Chinese and Joann Sfar’s bizarre Goth fantasy Vampire Loves. But I happened to read them in the same day so here goes.
American Born Chinese reminded me immediately of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, as it was a humorous memoir of boyhood growing up living the American dream from a minority status. Though Jin Wang suffers some of the same adolescent problems with girls that Alexie’s counterpart did (surely it must be a requisite of all boys to suffer these problems?), beyond that the comparison fades. The book was a National Book Award finalist and a winner of the Michael L. Prinz Award, and its proponents laud its three seemingly disparate strands of narrative coming together with a clever twist. For me, the three strands didn’t come together quickly enough. That, however, is the only criticism I can draw up against it. I am always suitably impressed by writers/graphic artists who do everything themselves, and Yang’s style is accessible and highly readable.
The three strands are that of the Monkey King, a well-known Chinese legend; Danny and his misadventures when his stereotyped Chinese cousin comes to visit; and Jin Wang’s seventh grade friendship with Wai-Chen and everlasting crush on Amelia Harris. The thing all these have in common is trying to disguise or ignore part of one’s nature, and in the latter two examples, one’s sense of Chinese identity. I would recommend this book as it’s humorous and a quirky, appreciable read.
By contrast, you wouldn’t expect to have anything in common with Ferdinand the Vampire in Vampire Loves, but the dark humor and irony in Sfar’s signature style makes characters like vampires, wailers, wraiths, mandragoras, tree men and so on have the exact same relationship problems you’d find on Friends. Well, maybe not quite the exact same ones. Sfar is recycling many characters that have appeared in his other books, which number over 100, including the Little Vampire series, so it may not have been the best time for me to jump into his universe. Nevertheless, despite the weirdness and ghoulishness, this crowd would hit it off with the cast of Being Human and it’s sort of this combination of the nightmare and the mundane that makes Vampire Loves a fast, jaunty read.
Ferdinand is a shy, retiring, “old-fashioned” vampire who hasn’t quite hit it off with the Goth culture in his Vilna residence. “Young” Goth vampire Aspirine wants to get inside his coffin (no, really) but he prefers her older sister Ritaline. His real love, the tree-girl Lani, seems to have no concept of monogamy; on an ocean liner, he has an exciting adventure with a Werewolf and a female wraith. My favorite story was with the Japanese student in the Louvre who finds Ferdinand there and accidentally knocks him out with her Polaroid. While it doesn’t pay to think too carefully about the undead, the living, and the fantastical all wanting to fool around together, purely on the surface, the drawings are cute. And it’s another that’s written and drawn by the same person!
American Born Chinese reminded me immediately of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, as it was a humorous memoir of boyhood growing up living the American dream from a minority status. Though Jin Wang suffers some of the same adolescent problems with girls that Alexie’s counterpart did (surely it must be a requisite of all boys to suffer these problems?), beyond that the comparison fades. The book was a National Book Award finalist and a winner of the Michael L. Prinz Award, and its proponents laud its three seemingly disparate strands of narrative coming together with a clever twist. For me, the three strands didn’t come together quickly enough. That, however, is the only criticism I can draw up against it. I am always suitably impressed by writers/graphic artists who do everything themselves, and Yang’s style is accessible and highly readable.
The three strands are that of the Monkey King, a well-known Chinese legend; Danny and his misadventures when his stereotyped Chinese cousin comes to visit; and Jin Wang’s seventh grade friendship with Wai-Chen and everlasting crush on Amelia Harris. The thing all these have in common is trying to disguise or ignore part of one’s nature, and in the latter two examples, one’s sense of Chinese identity. I would recommend this book as it’s humorous and a quirky, appreciable read.
By contrast, you wouldn’t expect to have anything in common with Ferdinand the Vampire in Vampire Loves, but the dark humor and irony in Sfar’s signature style makes characters like vampires, wailers, wraiths, mandragoras, tree men and so on have the exact same relationship problems you’d find on Friends. Well, maybe not quite the exact same ones. Sfar is recycling many characters that have appeared in his other books, which number over 100, including the Little Vampire series, so it may not have been the best time for me to jump into his universe. Nevertheless, despite the weirdness and ghoulishness, this crowd would hit it off with the cast of Being Human and it’s sort of this combination of the nightmare and the mundane that makes Vampire Loves a fast, jaunty read.
Ferdinand is a shy, retiring, “old-fashioned” vampire who hasn’t quite hit it off with the Goth culture in his Vilna residence. “Young” Goth vampire Aspirine wants to get inside his coffin (no, really) but he prefers her older sister Ritaline. His real love, the tree-girl Lani, seems to have no concept of monogamy; on an ocean liner, he has an exciting adventure with a Werewolf and a female wraith. My favorite story was with the Japanese student in the Louvre who finds Ferdinand there and accidentally knocks him out with her Polaroid. While it doesn’t pay to think too carefully about the undead, the living, and the fantastical all wanting to fool around together, purely on the surface, the drawings are cute. And it’s another that’s written and drawn by the same person!
the end of time (SPOILERS)
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1/1/10 “The End of Time”
The story never ends. –Ood Sigma
I have to admit I liked this better than “Waters of Mars”—though to be the be-all, end-all event that it claimed to be, it would have had to top “Utopia,” which it didn’t, in my opinion. I think, with rare exceptions, RTD is at his best when he’s being concise: writing over two (or more) episodes tends to dilute his character-driven and narrative power. I guess we won’t get to observe more on this theme (at least not in the near future), as the Vast Toffee will next wow us!
As hinted by RTD, the opening scenes were dark and quite divorced from the scene with the idiotic Doctor saying aloha to Ood Sigma. The “Narrator,” who we quickly learned was the President of Gallifrey (a Rassillon if not the Rassillon), told us that the people of Earth all “had bad dreams.” Somehow this struck me as a very Lord of the Rings-type thing to say! But, being human, they forgot their nightmares in the light of day. At the same time, a troubled Wilf walked into a church. A character in a Doctor Who story walking into a church in a reverent manner?! Okay, I’m being facetious. The “legend of the blue box” was intriguing—I loved the notion of the TARDIS being reproduced in a (presumably) medieval stained glass window. Certainly the “sainted physician” story was there to introduce the Mysterious Time Lady figure and give us an idea of how crucial to events Wilf would prove. However, I wish they’d either scrapped it altogether or developed it—it didn’t really seem to make much difference to any of the rest of the story!
As I noted, yes, I found the scene with the Doctor arriving on the Planet of the Ood stooopid. Once the Doctor calmed down (though I liked the idea of him “naming a galaxy Alison”—though why didn’t he do all of the stuff he does at the end of this story in this prelude?), Ood Sigma brought him to some mystical Ood. As they chanted, I thought, “Man, too many people are returning!” Still, you can see the Christmas-y theme: Ood Sigma seems to be playing the part of Marley and the other Ood the Spirits for the Doctor’s Scrooge. “The king is in his countinghouse.” There’s some exposition about the end of the Master, in case you didn’t watch that bit. Aaaaand the hand model is revealed to be . . . a prison warden! So much for our theories about the Rani, grumble.
And speaking of disappointment, the resurrection of the Master scene was a waste of time. It didn’t make any sense and cheapened Lucy Saxon’s mystery. Lucy being held in a sort of Chicago-esque prison and forced to participate in a ritualized revivification of the Master was tough enough to believe. How they did it made no sense at all (I realize, of course, that the credulity of ever bringing the Master back is tentative—yet this was on par with the way the TV Movie’s Master was executed by the Daleks and then turned into goop!). Why this particular group of Macbeth-like witches wanted to do it (“the secret books of Saxon”??) is even murkier. But resurrect him they did, apparently causing Lucy’s death (in a rather Raiders of the Lost Ark-like scene)—her contribution was to retard his regeneration but I wasn’t clear how. (Was it by causing him to be skeletal and therefore hungry all the time?)
I’ve written that something was like V for Vendetta, but I can’t remember what! At Mr Naismith’s mansion, something sinister is going on which he has prepared as a present for his daughter: it’s a hint of Torchwood: Children of Earth plus “The Lazarus Experiment.” David Harewood is wasted as the character is never given much chance to develop and merely leaves the audience reeling, trying to take in all these characters as well as the Doctor and Wilf worriedly puttering around. (I noticed at one point there was a van that said Sparrow Lane on it . . . I thought this might turn out to be significant later, something to do with Sally Sparrow, but as far as I could tell it wasn’t.)
Like most other people, I found the hungry, homeless, emo Master quite entertaining. (He summons the Doctor with a very obvious four knocks on an oil drum.) There was perhaps a hint of “Survival” in seeing the Time Lord reduced to his most animal instincts. However, I thought more of Wolf from The 10th Kingdom: “I am sooooooo hungry!” could easily become: “Bacon sizzling away on an iron frying pan! Baste it! Roast it! Toast it! Nibble it! Chew it! Bite right through it! Wobble it! Gobble it! Wrap it ‘round a couple of chickens and I am ravenous!” As for the Master’s acquired powers—as Jamie put it, we’re not quite sure when or how he started being able to shoot fireballs from his hands or take giant leaps through the air (a couple of times I had to control my laughter as it really reminded me of a video game). However, his stalking and eating homeless people in “wastelands of London” (wherever they may be!)[1] was genuinely chilling and Master-like: somehow the pulling back to see the skeletal remains of the vendors made me think of some of the 1970s Master stories—and it was quite scary. Then the Master gets kidnapped by Naismith. What? Why?
On the other side of the spectrum we have Wilf finding the Doctor with his OAP friends aka the Gray Cloak operation—again, I wish they’d been developed or left out. Minnie the Menace could have been a rounder, more appealing character (rather than just the woman who goosed David Tennant!)—for a long time I thought “The End of Time” was going to be an adaptation of the Gary Russell book Beautiful Chaos. Certainly when I saw Wilf and the Doctor being filmed in the Kardomah in Swansea over the May Bank Holiday weekend last year, I could tell that a serious discussion between the two characters was going on within the confines of the café (at Christmastime, clearly, by the décor). I also had been told Catherine Tate had been filmed outside, leading me to believe she had a peripheral role (ie, she and the Doctor didn’t meet) which again suggested Beautiful Chaos to me (go read it, by the way). So certainly “The End of Time” peaked early for me when I saw the scene I was expecting and looking forward to, though it had nothing to do with the Gary Russell book.
For many, this was the most touching scene of the story, and for me it was clearly the highlight of the first part. When RTD uses his delicacy of touch like this, and Bernard Cribbins and David Tennant play off each other in such a way, you get a winner! “We keep on meeting, Wilf,” the Doctor says ominously. The Doctor’s fear and frustration with his impending regeneration (so different from the Fourth Doctor’s attitude!) sounds suspiciously like sour grapes from David Tennant (if he had them): “some new man comes sauntering in . . .” Meanwhile Wilf fills us in on the Noble-Temple (er, Temple-Noble) marriage[2]. Unfortunately their impending matrimony will be plagued with debts if Wilf is to be believed. “She’s so sad but she can’t remember why. . . . She’s making do.” This is a topic I would have liked to have seen explored more, actually! I suppose, in a way, Donna’s malaise relates to all human kind’s malaise—after all, didn’t the Narrator say everyone was having bad dreams but forgetting them, but still tinged with menace in the waking world? Perhaps that’s commenting on all of us in the realm of reality: sad, but we don’t know why. We want to be touched by something as extraordinary as the Doctor but we can’t, we aren’t, we live our mundane lives. Perhaps that’s why we’re watching the show in the first place!
After this, Wilf becomes a proper companion as he jumps into the TARDIS—“I thought it would be cleaner”—and I am happy because Tennant dons the brown suit to die in, which I like much better than the blue anyway. (So sue me, I’m shallow.) The rabid Master scares the schnikey out of Naismith—“you taste great!”—and the more fool him, to think he can manipulate the Master instead of the other way around. The scientists, meanwhile, who have been working on Naismith’s Stargate thingee are revealed to be Vinvotchee—more Meglos or Majenta Pryce? The Master reveals his most outrageous (and characteristically egotistical) fiendish plot yet: to use the nanobot technology of the Gate to change every human on Earth into duplicates of himself! I had to grin at the audacity of this and the horror it created in the viewers, the Doctor, Wilf, Donna, and the Vinvotchee (the only ones left on Earth not turned into mini-Masters). In particular one has to sympathize deeply with John Simm who played all of these parts in a variety of ridiculous outfits—especially the Chiswick scenes.
As if this wasn’t enough, the Time Lords next come in and it’s a moment of fanwank bliss (at least, I would imagine!) for anyone who was dazzled by the Gallifrey presented in “The Sound of Drums.” I was dazzled, anyway! Their president is played by Timothy Dalton (a curious casting choice!) but I was more concerned—to the point of mild obsession!—with the “children” standing in the background covering their faces. I thought for a brief moment it was the child Master and the child Doctor covering their eyes from staring into the Untempered Schism.
The beginning of the second part opened with the startling image of the Citadel of Gallifrey on fire as it crashed into Earth—sadly the first fifteen minutes of this had me fidgeting restlessly—so much exposition and me being aware that time was running out! The décor of this version of Gallifrey reminded me more of Star Wars The Phantom Menace than “The Deadly Assassin”—nevertheless, the same color scheme, it seems to me, was observed. Presumably due to lack of budget, though, the Time Lord High Council was taking place in a vacuum with only a few Councillors on hand (though I suppose that’s explained away with it being the darkest hour of the Time War).
The Visionary reminded me of a Hopi kachina design I saw once, and also for one split-second I thought she had evolved (or devolved?) from Dalek Caan—it was the same kind of insane cackling prophecies! “This is only the furthest edge of the Time War but at the center, millions die.” I was impressed that this entire episode managed to leave most of the mystery and canonicity of the Time War untouched so that it can be detailed—or not—later. I like the mystery and leaving it that way. Rather abruptly, the President disposed of his dissenting voice—“thank you for your opinion”—by vaporizing her with his resurrection glove (at least we assume—though Jamie wondered whether it might be the Hand of Omega!). As their solution the Time Lords naturally turn to “two children of Gallifrey,” “the enmity of ages.” Rather wearily that turns their attention to Earth (again).
Meanwhile on Earth everyone has been Master-ified (including a national army in Beijing, interestingly). Donna is having to deal with this and is having a “metacrisis.” Frankly, I don’t know what the point of her storyline is at all—she’s put briefly in peril and then taken out of it again. The Doctor, as ever, tries to persuade the Master away from his evil deeds. “You don’t need to own the universe.” The Master is hoping to use the amplification of his multiple selves to pinpoint the source of the never-ending drums in his head. “I don’t know what I’d be without that noise.” Then the Doctor/Master slashers go crazy as they are given plenty of material for their fan fic. :-/ Wilf is bewildered, the Doctor smug once he and Wilf are able to escape with the help of the Vinvotchee. “God bless the cactuses!” cries Wilf as they are teleported (or whatever the term is) onto their space ship (which looks kind of like Serenity to my untrained eye). “Cacti!” There’s a barely amusing scene of the Doctor being tossed down the stairs in a gurney (a nod to the scenes of Patrick Troughton in the wheelchair in “The Two Doctors”?).
As the Master’s (Masters’?) plan takes him to the source of the drumming, in narrative terms the Time Lords are just coming up with the idea of implanting the sound in his head from childhood. The Glorious Revolution does a better job of explaining time paradox than this (or I) do, but basically, this happened because it had to happen. (Strangely enough that was the line of logic I was pursuing at the end of “Parting of the Ways” to explain a) Bad Wolf; b) the love between the Doctor and Rose.) In the downtime Wilf is again approached by the Mysterious Time Lady who tells him to arm himself “old soldier.” “He never carries guns,” he says of the Doctor. When Wilf talks to the Doctor, he comes up with the single most disturbing line of the story: “Do you think he [the Master] changed them in their graves?” The scene that follows goes on a bit long, IMHO, and most of the ground was already covered in the scene in the Kardomah. “I’m older than you,” the Doctor says, giving his age (to our consternation) as 906. There’s an odd line about the Doctor wishing Wilf was his dad. I enjoy the sentiment, but it makes about as much sense as the Tenth Doctor telling the Fifth Doctor “you were my Doctor!” Nevertheless, Wilf is taking the part of devil’s advocate and pleads with the Doctor to “kill him first.” The Doctor refuses—“I’ve taken lives, manipulated people into taking their own.” “Don’t you dare put his life before theirs!”
The Master has tried to destroy the Vinvotchee ship (and the Doctor—“we don’t need him”) with missiles. This gives us probably the best sequence of this episode: Wilf in a X-Wing-type fighter—delightful. Once he finds out that the source of the Master’s drumming is the Time Lords who are on their way (impossibly or no), the Doctor, in “Voyage of the Damned” mode, doesn’t plan on stopping the ship’s downward velocity into the Naismith mansion. In the end the Doctor spares his allies but jumps into a glass ceiling and falls at the feet of the Master and the Time Lord. The President greets them, “Lord Doctor, Lord Master” (which just sounds naff). The Master gets possessive over his “work” and then has the audacity to expect to turn every Time Lord into himself! Sounds very Delgado somehow! Rassillon (for it is he, apparently) enacts a good fix and returns all the humans to their normal selves. “I get the credit [for bringing the Time Lords back]!” the Master snarls. Gallifrey the planet is about to submerge the Earth, and understandably frightened people try to escape. Wilf demonstrates selfless heroism that is on par with anything the Doctor’s ever done (and it’s another case of don’t show a radiation chamber you aren’t going to use). “My kind of world!” the Master cries crazily. “The final sanction—free of time.” “Take me with you!” the Master begs. “You are diseased—a disease of your own making.”
I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last, to compare the Doctor here to Hamlet. (And not just because David Tennant played him—I made the comparison with Tom Baker’s Doctor in light of “Genesis of the Daleks.”) He’s got a gun and he can’t decide whether to use it on the Master or the Time Lords. “He’s to blame, not me,” says the Master. “The link is inside my head!” As the Doctor tries to make his decision, one of the “children” peeks out from behind her hands. It’s the Mysterious Time Lady, variously ascribed to be the Doctor’s mother, Romana, Ace (I thought perhaps Donna someday in the future because of the red hair), crying. “Get out of the way,” the Doctor says to the Master. He shoots the Gate thingee which causes the Time Lords to get sucked back into the vortex or whatever. “Get out of the way,” the Master responds, using his thunderbolt powers to beat back Rassillon. Presumably he gets sucked into the vortex with them. I did actually quite like this bit—I suppose it was a little staged (what am I saying, of course it’s staged, it’s drama!) but overall it was a nice character back-and-forth.
I knew it was a fakeout! I screamed to myself when Wilf knocked four times on the glass of his radiation chamber. I know various people have complained that the performance here isn’t particularly Doctor-ish—he’s never reacted to regeneration this way before. Think of the resigned quality of the Fourth Doctor seeing the Watcher—he knew what was coming but he certainly didn’t rail about it like this. I suppose a different, more emotive Doctor will react differently. The last two regenerations have been an echo of Five into Six: namely, giving his life for a companion. Fake out #2 I think fooled us all, when the Doctor crumpled into a ball inside the radiation chamber, surely announcing his imminent regeneration (I began to cry, of course).
Perhaps the most controversial section of “The End of Time”—the “epilogue” of sorts. This all put me in mind of the end of Return of the King. Purists would have it that all those endings had to be included because they were all part of the book. Ordinary cinema-goers were twitching convulsively or had fallen asleep. I was in the spectrum somewhere in between—I think at the time I saw it (the Albuquerque midnight premiere, mind you) I was both very tired and also crying and not wanting it to end. In any case, all those sort of resolving of loose ends were necessary or weren’t—depending on your perspective. For most I reckon these resolving of loose ends weren’t necessary. I had fun with them, up to a point. Certainly RTD saw this as his swansong as did David Tennant, so in terms of packing away that universe it was perhaps in their best interests, as they saw it.
I was shocked but pleased by Martha and Mickey being married and fighting Sontarans together. Obviously like everyone else I wondered what had happened to Martha’s fiancé and what caused this abrupt course of events. My mind immediately went into fan fic writer mode to connect all the dots, but I suspect by the time I write my ideas down it will be too late and Torchwood series 4 will invalidate all my theories. The scene with Captain Jack (presumably post-“Children of Earth”) in the “Mos Eisley cantina” (personally I was thinking of Quark’s) was similarly unexpected. I think the accusation that RTD just wanted it in so he could reuse Russell Tovey may hold some water, but at the same time I won’t deny I cracked a smile. “Allons-y, Alonso,” indeed.
I think I started crying again when “Verity Newman” was signing her book, A Journal of Impossible Things. I won’t necessarily defend my actions. Clearly, the rational side of my brain dismissing all of this as self-indulgent and fan wanky was not communicating with the emotional part of my brain (sixteen years old) which was producing the tears. The Doctor then saw Donna’s wedding from afar and produced a winning lottery ticket to solve all their financial woes (I had a private grin to myself). Oh, and then I really started crying when the Doctor decided to do “1996” more or less. I can’t defend this, really—it just seemed to me that it was a nice way of bringing things full circle. It all started on the Powell Estate with the 2005 Christmas Special (a year before I saw it!) for the Tenth Doctor. “I bet you’re going to have a really great year.” Despite all the sap, I think Ood Sigma had a point: the story never ends for us fans. Surely all these years have proven that if nothing else?
The Doctor regenerates, alone, in the TARDIS, which I don’t think has happened before—he’s always had a companion by his side (except in the case of the Seventh Doctor who was in a hospital, and we don’t know how Eight regenerated). The screaming and explosions—well, that’s one way to go! I know new Doctors’ first lines rarely endear themselves to viewers, but it wasn’t the lines so much as the delivery that disappointed me. It seemed, forgive me, the same manic energy as the Tenth Doctor. Like most others, I’ll be happy to see Matt Smith tackle the role—provided he brings something new to it as all his predecessors have done. I was unclear how his hair made him suspect he was a girl??
As someone said to me, it will be difficult to judge how cut up we are about the depature of our Doctor of three-ish years, as it will take awhile to sink in that he’s really gone (what with the glut of David Tennant programs on TV recently, not that I’m complaining). I will miss him—I cried a lot I have to admit, but I was emotional for other reasons at the time. I also cried a lot during “Parting of the Ways”—so I think it will all be okay.
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1/1/10 “The End of Time”
The story never ends. –Ood Sigma
I have to admit I liked this better than “Waters of Mars”—though to be the be-all, end-all event that it claimed to be, it would have had to top “Utopia,” which it didn’t, in my opinion. I think, with rare exceptions, RTD is at his best when he’s being concise: writing over two (or more) episodes tends to dilute his character-driven and narrative power. I guess we won’t get to observe more on this theme (at least not in the near future), as the Vast Toffee will next wow us!
As hinted by RTD, the opening scenes were dark and quite divorced from the scene with the idiotic Doctor saying aloha to Ood Sigma. The “Narrator,” who we quickly learned was the President of Gallifrey (a Rassillon if not the Rassillon), told us that the people of Earth all “had bad dreams.” Somehow this struck me as a very Lord of the Rings-type thing to say! But, being human, they forgot their nightmares in the light of day. At the same time, a troubled Wilf walked into a church. A character in a Doctor Who story walking into a church in a reverent manner?! Okay, I’m being facetious. The “legend of the blue box” was intriguing—I loved the notion of the TARDIS being reproduced in a (presumably) medieval stained glass window. Certainly the “sainted physician” story was there to introduce the Mysterious Time Lady figure and give us an idea of how crucial to events Wilf would prove. However, I wish they’d either scrapped it altogether or developed it—it didn’t really seem to make much difference to any of the rest of the story!
As I noted, yes, I found the scene with the Doctor arriving on the Planet of the Ood stooopid. Once the Doctor calmed down (though I liked the idea of him “naming a galaxy Alison”—though why didn’t he do all of the stuff he does at the end of this story in this prelude?), Ood Sigma brought him to some mystical Ood. As they chanted, I thought, “Man, too many people are returning!” Still, you can see the Christmas-y theme: Ood Sigma seems to be playing the part of Marley and the other Ood the Spirits for the Doctor’s Scrooge. “The king is in his countinghouse.” There’s some exposition about the end of the Master, in case you didn’t watch that bit. Aaaaand the hand model is revealed to be . . . a prison warden! So much for our theories about the Rani, grumble.
And speaking of disappointment, the resurrection of the Master scene was a waste of time. It didn’t make any sense and cheapened Lucy Saxon’s mystery. Lucy being held in a sort of Chicago-esque prison and forced to participate in a ritualized revivification of the Master was tough enough to believe. How they did it made no sense at all (I realize, of course, that the credulity of ever bringing the Master back is tentative—yet this was on par with the way the TV Movie’s Master was executed by the Daleks and then turned into goop!). Why this particular group of Macbeth-like witches wanted to do it (“the secret books of Saxon”??) is even murkier. But resurrect him they did, apparently causing Lucy’s death (in a rather Raiders of the Lost Ark-like scene)—her contribution was to retard his regeneration but I wasn’t clear how. (Was it by causing him to be skeletal and therefore hungry all the time?)
I’ve written that something was like V for Vendetta, but I can’t remember what! At Mr Naismith’s mansion, something sinister is going on which he has prepared as a present for his daughter: it’s a hint of Torchwood: Children of Earth plus “The Lazarus Experiment.” David Harewood is wasted as the character is never given much chance to develop and merely leaves the audience reeling, trying to take in all these characters as well as the Doctor and Wilf worriedly puttering around. (I noticed at one point there was a van that said Sparrow Lane on it . . . I thought this might turn out to be significant later, something to do with Sally Sparrow, but as far as I could tell it wasn’t.)
Like most other people, I found the hungry, homeless, emo Master quite entertaining. (He summons the Doctor with a very obvious four knocks on an oil drum.) There was perhaps a hint of “Survival” in seeing the Time Lord reduced to his most animal instincts. However, I thought more of Wolf from The 10th Kingdom: “I am sooooooo hungry!” could easily become: “Bacon sizzling away on an iron frying pan! Baste it! Roast it! Toast it! Nibble it! Chew it! Bite right through it! Wobble it! Gobble it! Wrap it ‘round a couple of chickens and I am ravenous!” As for the Master’s acquired powers—as Jamie put it, we’re not quite sure when or how he started being able to shoot fireballs from his hands or take giant leaps through the air (a couple of times I had to control my laughter as it really reminded me of a video game). However, his stalking and eating homeless people in “wastelands of London” (wherever they may be!)[1] was genuinely chilling and Master-like: somehow the pulling back to see the skeletal remains of the vendors made me think of some of the 1970s Master stories—and it was quite scary. Then the Master gets kidnapped by Naismith. What? Why?
On the other side of the spectrum we have Wilf finding the Doctor with his OAP friends aka the Gray Cloak operation—again, I wish they’d been developed or left out. Minnie the Menace could have been a rounder, more appealing character (rather than just the woman who goosed David Tennant!)—for a long time I thought “The End of Time” was going to be an adaptation of the Gary Russell book Beautiful Chaos. Certainly when I saw Wilf and the Doctor being filmed in the Kardomah in Swansea over the May Bank Holiday weekend last year, I could tell that a serious discussion between the two characters was going on within the confines of the café (at Christmastime, clearly, by the décor). I also had been told Catherine Tate had been filmed outside, leading me to believe she had a peripheral role (ie, she and the Doctor didn’t meet) which again suggested Beautiful Chaos to me (go read it, by the way). So certainly “The End of Time” peaked early for me when I saw the scene I was expecting and looking forward to, though it had nothing to do with the Gary Russell book.
For many, this was the most touching scene of the story, and for me it was clearly the highlight of the first part. When RTD uses his delicacy of touch like this, and Bernard Cribbins and David Tennant play off each other in such a way, you get a winner! “We keep on meeting, Wilf,” the Doctor says ominously. The Doctor’s fear and frustration with his impending regeneration (so different from the Fourth Doctor’s attitude!) sounds suspiciously like sour grapes from David Tennant (if he had them): “some new man comes sauntering in . . .” Meanwhile Wilf fills us in on the Noble-Temple (er, Temple-Noble) marriage[2]. Unfortunately their impending matrimony will be plagued with debts if Wilf is to be believed. “She’s so sad but she can’t remember why. . . . She’s making do.” This is a topic I would have liked to have seen explored more, actually! I suppose, in a way, Donna’s malaise relates to all human kind’s malaise—after all, didn’t the Narrator say everyone was having bad dreams but forgetting them, but still tinged with menace in the waking world? Perhaps that’s commenting on all of us in the realm of reality: sad, but we don’t know why. We want to be touched by something as extraordinary as the Doctor but we can’t, we aren’t, we live our mundane lives. Perhaps that’s why we’re watching the show in the first place!
After this, Wilf becomes a proper companion as he jumps into the TARDIS—“I thought it would be cleaner”—and I am happy because Tennant dons the brown suit to die in, which I like much better than the blue anyway. (So sue me, I’m shallow.) The rabid Master scares the schnikey out of Naismith—“you taste great!”—and the more fool him, to think he can manipulate the Master instead of the other way around. The scientists, meanwhile, who have been working on Naismith’s Stargate thingee are revealed to be Vinvotchee—more Meglos or Majenta Pryce? The Master reveals his most outrageous (and characteristically egotistical) fiendish plot yet: to use the nanobot technology of the Gate to change every human on Earth into duplicates of himself! I had to grin at the audacity of this and the horror it created in the viewers, the Doctor, Wilf, Donna, and the Vinvotchee (the only ones left on Earth not turned into mini-Masters). In particular one has to sympathize deeply with John Simm who played all of these parts in a variety of ridiculous outfits—especially the Chiswick scenes.
As if this wasn’t enough, the Time Lords next come in and it’s a moment of fanwank bliss (at least, I would imagine!) for anyone who was dazzled by the Gallifrey presented in “The Sound of Drums.” I was dazzled, anyway! Their president is played by Timothy Dalton (a curious casting choice!) but I was more concerned—to the point of mild obsession!—with the “children” standing in the background covering their faces. I thought for a brief moment it was the child Master and the child Doctor covering their eyes from staring into the Untempered Schism.
The beginning of the second part opened with the startling image of the Citadel of Gallifrey on fire as it crashed into Earth—sadly the first fifteen minutes of this had me fidgeting restlessly—so much exposition and me being aware that time was running out! The décor of this version of Gallifrey reminded me more of Star Wars The Phantom Menace than “The Deadly Assassin”—nevertheless, the same color scheme, it seems to me, was observed. Presumably due to lack of budget, though, the Time Lord High Council was taking place in a vacuum with only a few Councillors on hand (though I suppose that’s explained away with it being the darkest hour of the Time War).
The Visionary reminded me of a Hopi kachina design I saw once, and also for one split-second I thought she had evolved (or devolved?) from Dalek Caan—it was the same kind of insane cackling prophecies! “This is only the furthest edge of the Time War but at the center, millions die.” I was impressed that this entire episode managed to leave most of the mystery and canonicity of the Time War untouched so that it can be detailed—or not—later. I like the mystery and leaving it that way. Rather abruptly, the President disposed of his dissenting voice—“thank you for your opinion”—by vaporizing her with his resurrection glove (at least we assume—though Jamie wondered whether it might be the Hand of Omega!). As their solution the Time Lords naturally turn to “two children of Gallifrey,” “the enmity of ages.” Rather wearily that turns their attention to Earth (again).
Meanwhile on Earth everyone has been Master-ified (including a national army in Beijing, interestingly). Donna is having to deal with this and is having a “metacrisis.” Frankly, I don’t know what the point of her storyline is at all—she’s put briefly in peril and then taken out of it again. The Doctor, as ever, tries to persuade the Master away from his evil deeds. “You don’t need to own the universe.” The Master is hoping to use the amplification of his multiple selves to pinpoint the source of the never-ending drums in his head. “I don’t know what I’d be without that noise.” Then the Doctor/Master slashers go crazy as they are given plenty of material for their fan fic. :-/ Wilf is bewildered, the Doctor smug once he and Wilf are able to escape with the help of the Vinvotchee. “God bless the cactuses!” cries Wilf as they are teleported (or whatever the term is) onto their space ship (which looks kind of like Serenity to my untrained eye). “Cacti!” There’s a barely amusing scene of the Doctor being tossed down the stairs in a gurney (a nod to the scenes of Patrick Troughton in the wheelchair in “The Two Doctors”?).
As the Master’s (Masters’?) plan takes him to the source of the drumming, in narrative terms the Time Lords are just coming up with the idea of implanting the sound in his head from childhood. The Glorious Revolution does a better job of explaining time paradox than this (or I) do, but basically, this happened because it had to happen. (Strangely enough that was the line of logic I was pursuing at the end of “Parting of the Ways” to explain a) Bad Wolf; b) the love between the Doctor and Rose.) In the downtime Wilf is again approached by the Mysterious Time Lady who tells him to arm himself “old soldier.” “He never carries guns,” he says of the Doctor. When Wilf talks to the Doctor, he comes up with the single most disturbing line of the story: “Do you think he [the Master] changed them in their graves?” The scene that follows goes on a bit long, IMHO, and most of the ground was already covered in the scene in the Kardomah. “I’m older than you,” the Doctor says, giving his age (to our consternation) as 906. There’s an odd line about the Doctor wishing Wilf was his dad. I enjoy the sentiment, but it makes about as much sense as the Tenth Doctor telling the Fifth Doctor “you were my Doctor!” Nevertheless, Wilf is taking the part of devil’s advocate and pleads with the Doctor to “kill him first.” The Doctor refuses—“I’ve taken lives, manipulated people into taking their own.” “Don’t you dare put his life before theirs!”
The Master has tried to destroy the Vinvotchee ship (and the Doctor—“we don’t need him”) with missiles. This gives us probably the best sequence of this episode: Wilf in a X-Wing-type fighter—delightful. Once he finds out that the source of the Master’s drumming is the Time Lords who are on their way (impossibly or no), the Doctor, in “Voyage of the Damned” mode, doesn’t plan on stopping the ship’s downward velocity into the Naismith mansion. In the end the Doctor spares his allies but jumps into a glass ceiling and falls at the feet of the Master and the Time Lord. The President greets them, “Lord Doctor, Lord Master” (which just sounds naff). The Master gets possessive over his “work” and then has the audacity to expect to turn every Time Lord into himself! Sounds very Delgado somehow! Rassillon (for it is he, apparently) enacts a good fix and returns all the humans to their normal selves. “I get the credit [for bringing the Time Lords back]!” the Master snarls. Gallifrey the planet is about to submerge the Earth, and understandably frightened people try to escape. Wilf demonstrates selfless heroism that is on par with anything the Doctor’s ever done (and it’s another case of don’t show a radiation chamber you aren’t going to use). “My kind of world!” the Master cries crazily. “The final sanction—free of time.” “Take me with you!” the Master begs. “You are diseased—a disease of your own making.”
I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last, to compare the Doctor here to Hamlet. (And not just because David Tennant played him—I made the comparison with Tom Baker’s Doctor in light of “Genesis of the Daleks.”) He’s got a gun and he can’t decide whether to use it on the Master or the Time Lords. “He’s to blame, not me,” says the Master. “The link is inside my head!” As the Doctor tries to make his decision, one of the “children” peeks out from behind her hands. It’s the Mysterious Time Lady, variously ascribed to be the Doctor’s mother, Romana, Ace (I thought perhaps Donna someday in the future because of the red hair), crying. “Get out of the way,” the Doctor says to the Master. He shoots the Gate thingee which causes the Time Lords to get sucked back into the vortex or whatever. “Get out of the way,” the Master responds, using his thunderbolt powers to beat back Rassillon. Presumably he gets sucked into the vortex with them. I did actually quite like this bit—I suppose it was a little staged (what am I saying, of course it’s staged, it’s drama!) but overall it was a nice character back-and-forth.
I knew it was a fakeout! I screamed to myself when Wilf knocked four times on the glass of his radiation chamber. I know various people have complained that the performance here isn’t particularly Doctor-ish—he’s never reacted to regeneration this way before. Think of the resigned quality of the Fourth Doctor seeing the Watcher—he knew what was coming but he certainly didn’t rail about it like this. I suppose a different, more emotive Doctor will react differently. The last two regenerations have been an echo of Five into Six: namely, giving his life for a companion. Fake out #2 I think fooled us all, when the Doctor crumpled into a ball inside the radiation chamber, surely announcing his imminent regeneration (I began to cry, of course).
Perhaps the most controversial section of “The End of Time”—the “epilogue” of sorts. This all put me in mind of the end of Return of the King. Purists would have it that all those endings had to be included because they were all part of the book. Ordinary cinema-goers were twitching convulsively or had fallen asleep. I was in the spectrum somewhere in between—I think at the time I saw it (the Albuquerque midnight premiere, mind you) I was both very tired and also crying and not wanting it to end. In any case, all those sort of resolving of loose ends were necessary or weren’t—depending on your perspective. For most I reckon these resolving of loose ends weren’t necessary. I had fun with them, up to a point. Certainly RTD saw this as his swansong as did David Tennant, so in terms of packing away that universe it was perhaps in their best interests, as they saw it.
I was shocked but pleased by Martha and Mickey being married and fighting Sontarans together. Obviously like everyone else I wondered what had happened to Martha’s fiancé and what caused this abrupt course of events. My mind immediately went into fan fic writer mode to connect all the dots, but I suspect by the time I write my ideas down it will be too late and Torchwood series 4 will invalidate all my theories. The scene with Captain Jack (presumably post-“Children of Earth”) in the “Mos Eisley cantina” (personally I was thinking of Quark’s) was similarly unexpected. I think the accusation that RTD just wanted it in so he could reuse Russell Tovey may hold some water, but at the same time I won’t deny I cracked a smile. “Allons-y, Alonso,” indeed.
I think I started crying again when “Verity Newman” was signing her book, A Journal of Impossible Things. I won’t necessarily defend my actions. Clearly, the rational side of my brain dismissing all of this as self-indulgent and fan wanky was not communicating with the emotional part of my brain (sixteen years old) which was producing the tears. The Doctor then saw Donna’s wedding from afar and produced a winning lottery ticket to solve all their financial woes (I had a private grin to myself). Oh, and then I really started crying when the Doctor decided to do “1996” more or less. I can’t defend this, really—it just seemed to me that it was a nice way of bringing things full circle. It all started on the Powell Estate with the 2005 Christmas Special (a year before I saw it!) for the Tenth Doctor. “I bet you’re going to have a really great year.” Despite all the sap, I think Ood Sigma had a point: the story never ends for us fans. Surely all these years have proven that if nothing else?
The Doctor regenerates, alone, in the TARDIS, which I don’t think has happened before—he’s always had a companion by his side (except in the case of the Seventh Doctor who was in a hospital, and we don’t know how Eight regenerated). The screaming and explosions—well, that’s one way to go! I know new Doctors’ first lines rarely endear themselves to viewers, but it wasn’t the lines so much as the delivery that disappointed me. It seemed, forgive me, the same manic energy as the Tenth Doctor. Like most others, I’ll be happy to see Matt Smith tackle the role—provided he brings something new to it as all his predecessors have done. I was unclear how his hair made him suspect he was a girl??
As someone said to me, it will be difficult to judge how cut up we are about the depature of our Doctor of three-ish years, as it will take awhile to sink in that he’s really gone (what with the glut of David Tennant programs on TV recently, not that I’m complaining). I will miss him—I cried a lot I have to admit, but I was emotional for other reasons at the time. I also cried a lot during “Parting of the Ways”—so I think it will all be okay.
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