There has been something of a
reaction to the Chris Chibnall and Jodie Whittaker era, to say the least.
Several fans I know have dismissed the gamut entirely, refusing to watch. Others
are seeing it as simply “a bad patch” or a “a deviation.” Of course, there is a
large contingent of fandom who are embracing the new approach brought by a
fresh production team and wallowing in an exciting new age. I am somewhere in
the middle, he said cowardly. Whilst Series 11 acted as something of a palette
cleanser after the hugely ambitious, complex and (by the end) deservedly
indulgent Steven Moffat years (Ice Warriors, Mondasian Cybermen and the First
Doctor for the finish!), Series 12 seemed like a chance to dive back into the
wide universe of Doctor Who, returns from the likes of The Master, Captain Jack
and the Judoon leading to a Cyber showdown of epic proportions. Both series had
their strengths: a simpler approach felt like a sensible direction and there
are some lovely stories in Series 11. The climactic Series 12 Cyberman trilogy
is perhaps as strong and exciting as this new iteration has ever been and the massive
thriller Spyfall at the centre of the era is a fantastic, stylish
movie-sized cannonball, smashing its way into Doctor Who with fierce brio. Far
all that, I’m not sure what Chris Chibnall’s long game is. The first half of
Series 11 seemed well-paced in terms of character work, revelations about our
four-strong TARDIS team slowly being positioned as if we were being led
somewhere. Unfortunately, in the second half, a status quo had been established
and the propulsion vanished, the show becoming a fix of the week anthology
series. There was no growth. Even in the finale, Graham tells the Doctor he is
going to kill Tim Shaw. The Doctor asks him not to and he changes his mind.
There’s little drama between our characters, and certainly no politics. In
Series 12, we’re on a continuity bursting mission but I’m not sure what it’s in
aid of. Chibnall has inserted into the programme a new mythos which tells us
that everything we knew was a lie. But we didn’t know anything to begin with.
He is rocking a boat we didn’t know we were sailing in. Yes, it’s gripping and
robustly told but I’m not quite sure it had a strong enough foundation to
exist. Above all else though, we have our first female Time Lord and sadly, I
don’t think Jodie Whittaker’s performance is particularly strong. In fact, it is
at times so demonstrably poor that I truthfully wonder how she made it through
her apparent gruelling auditions. She is delivering the only Doctor Who
performance I can’t find joy in and that makes me deeply sad. Her biggest fault
is her struggle to convey meaning through text. The words she stresses in any
given sentence are often wrong. She labours the casual technobabble as if she’s
never watched a sci-fi film, as if we need things spelling out. (I suspect she
simply hasn’t got the idiom.) Worst of all, she lets great gags fall
flat. Having said that, there aren’t any stories I particularly take against here
and in this ranking, from least to most favourite, you’ll find some corking
characters, locations and concepts: Ashad the Cybermen; Desolation; Daniel
Barton; quicksilver; Zellin; the Dregs; the P’Ting; Sacha Dhawan’s Master;
Siobhan Finneran’s Becka Savage; Chris Noth’s Robertson; Goran Visnjic’s Tesla;
Demons of the Punjab; the Kerblam! men; the Ux; the Skithra; and the end
of the Cyber Wars. This is as rich an era as any Doctor Who showrunner has ever
conceived. And it’s not over yet!
19. IT TAKES YOU AWAY
When I dared to go online to
gauge the reaction to Ed Hime’s unusual Nordic Noir psy-fi thriller, I was
astonished to find so much love being heaped on this unfocused, often dull
tale. Any negative reaction seemed to be reserved for the frog, with which I
had no issue! No, I’m just not sure Ed Hime knows what this story is about.
There is simply too much going on for any of it to work well. We start with a
tense, house-in-the-woods episode which seems like it’s going to be taut and
nerve-wracking. But it isn’t given long enough to develop before we’re off into
a netherworld with Kevin Eldon. The Antizone, apart from its worryingly
realistic moths, doesn’t pose enough of a threat to warrant its existence. Its
simply somewhere for Ryan to be held while his grandad-notgrandad has a more
emotional adventure with his grandma. Why isn’t Ryan involved in this? Why has
Hime not been asked to tease out the breadth of the TARDIS characters more
fully, take them to the edge? Instead, we’re messing about with light-up
balloons. At the finish, mentally ill Erik who has abandoned his daughter Hanne
and convinced her there are monsters outside her home, is reunited happily with
her and left to continue his abuse. Perhaps, this would have been far stronger
without the Antizone material, one half of the story on one side of the mirror,
the second half on the other, the structure mirroring the form. That way, a
story that wants to be about character really could be.
18. ROSA
It won plaudits across the
industry. It won the DWM poll. But to my mind, Rosa feels painfully
contrived. It is as if the story cannot develop naturally because of this
modern thing called “agency.” Rosa must retain her agency. The Doctor and her
companions can never be seen to interfere or give her the idea to remain seated
on the bus. Most of all, a white person cannot possibly be seen to give a
person of colour the idea to revolt because that would rob a person of their
agency. All quite rightly. But we’re then forced to ask ourselves: what are we
doing here then? Is there an adventure to be had at all if our heroes can’t get
involved? Actually, there isn’t. All they have to do is sit on the bus and not
get up. Yes, that’s a fairly seismic thing to do and the moment is definitely
felt, directed with integrity and passion. But for the rest of the time we’re
fiddling about with a third-rate villain with muddy motivations trying our best
not to get too involved. What this story needs is some bravery. The early
encounter with the racist in the street who slaps Ryan is jolting as we’re in
an area rarely explored head-on by Doctor Who. But then we get a chat between
Ryan and Yaz behind some bins about the word Paki. Surely, we need to see the
extent of what Rosa is fighting for more profoundly. Put our heroes in more
serious danger than being arrested for being in a hotel room. Let’s hear the
word Nigger being spoken with as much venom as is acceptable and be caught
sharp by its realism. If you’re going to shy away from sci-fi and tackle a real
world issue, let’s be real world about it.
17. FUGITIVE OF THE JUDOON
Fans love surprises. Presumably
that’s why Fugitive of the Judoon was met with such rapture on initial
transmission. I was air punching with the best of ‘em when John Barrowman leapt
back onto our screens. And then when the TARDIS was found beneath the
gravestone, I was admittedly rapt. This felt too big for a kickabout adventure
in the middle of the season. But when I sat back to think about the episode a
little later, I wondered what it was all about. A Human Nature sequel?
That’s bold. But nothing is explained to the viewer. I’m not sure how the
millions of viewers who didn’t remember the intricate plot of Human Nature
felt about the lighthouse fire escape’s glowing energies. Most dis-spiritingly
of all though, having failed to cast a decent actor as his leading lady once,
Chris Chibnall goes and does it again, introducing the wooden Jo Martin as a
badly costumed incarnation. Like Whittaker, she hasn’t got a handle on how to
deliver the lines. It’s as if two soap opera stars who’ve never seen a science
fiction film before have been offered important roles and arrogantly thought
they’d give it a shot, dammit. They aren’t good enough. John Barrowman has
nothing to do except remind us of how much better the show was cast fifteen
years ago and the final showdown between the two Doctors is witless and without
energy. My final bugbear: both Doctors use the word “dumb.” It’s a horrible
Americanism, never before used by a Doctor and frankly, offensive to those who
can’t speak. Can we say stupid in future? Please don’t let our Doctors lack
grace.
16. PRAXEUS
We start interestingly enough: a
worldwide mystery, our TARDIS team already separated and on mission. The
Praxeus disease itself is thrillingly gruesome and the idea of the birds
swirling before they attack is troubling. But the fact is our time travellers
are not sufficiently different enough for the four story strands to feel driven
by them. Yaz, Ryan and Graham are simply the Doctor’s yes men. Separating them
should highlight the differences in approach. Instead it only pinpoints how
badly developed they have been, how very little character they have and how
they don’t feel like leads in their own show. This is the tale of the gay
astronaut and his ex-cop lover, not the TARDIS crew. Of course, it can’t be
about them every week, but we at least need them to be pro-active, assertive,
fun to be around, individual. They all four of them feel like shadows rather
than people, here most obviously. Lift one character from one narrative strand
and plonk them into another and nothing would change. Praxeus looks
great apart from the puppet bird which lingers in shot like a tiny Myrka but it
hasn’t got any real people in it aside from during its best scene: the one in
which Warren Brown and Bradley Walsh sit side by side on the beach and simply
talk. That’s what this series is missing. Its characters do not truly talk.
15. THE BATTLE OF RANSKOOR AV
KOLOS
The season finale that wasn’t
really a season finale because a few weeks later it was time for Resolution!
What you take away from Battle is the all-pervasive sense that this has
been a small fry series. Even the last, almost to-camera speech from Jodie is
flat, unmemorable and uninspiring. It’s a shame because positioned elsewhere in
the series, The Aftermath of the Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos could be
considered fairly solid stuff. Mark Addy, always good value, is terrific as
Paltraki although he is given so little to do and vanishes from the plot
somewhere along the way. Segun Akinola’s weird score drives its way
oppressively through the steamy, industrial locations, giving the finale an
atmosphere all of its own. Samuel Oatley’s exceptional performance as Tzim-Sha
marks him out as a worthy opponent, Chris Chibnall writing the Big Bad as despicably
horrible and vain. Evil villains have been rare in the modern show and it’s
lovely to get a baddie who is simply bad because. The opening sequence is
pleasingly mythic, the effects work terrific. Ultimately though, it is the most
uninteresting modern series finale and it’s not as clever as it should be. The
devices the Doctor and Yaz have been wearing to protect their sanity when
removed merely elicit a bit of a headache. The TARDIS is used to help save the day
and Graham simply decides not to bother killing his nemesis, content to tread
on his toes instead. It’s written as if there is so much at stake, but it
doesn’t affect our characters the way it should. This feels like just another
day.
14. THE WOMAN WHO FELL TO
EARTH
First outings for Doctors are
important. They set out the agenda for what’s to come. Perhaps in the classic
series, Castrovalva and Time and the Rani fudge this job on
account of being written by yesterday’s rather than tomorrow’s writers (however
much I adore Castrovalva!). The Woman Who Fell to Earth is
completely symptomatic of what we came to expect from Series 11. The pace is a
little more languid than under Steven Moffat, the jokes are thinner on the
ground and the tone more uneven. Sadly though, the episode introduces us to
Jodie’s Doctor who fails spectacularly to even approach the magnetism of her
immediate predecessors. Like Eccleston, she hasn’t got a softness of touch so
her comedy, like his, falls flat. She feels like a tragic comedian not quite
convinced that they’re funny enough, so the jokes lack that sense of determined
direct drive. Much of her technical prose is unintelligible and what’s worse,
she’s annoying when she should be charming. That’s what we’ve got to look
forward to and her performance casts a shadow of this admittedly fairly
well-written opener. In her final jump from the crane, however, we get a
flavour not of Series 11, but of Series 12: a bolder, more action-packed and
heroic series. And that alarming cliff-hanger, at the end of The Woman Who Fell
to Earth, tells us firmly that the adventure is most certainly to be
continued.
13. CAN YOU HEAR ME?
This week, let’s talk about
mental health. The current show’s willingness to address current worldly
concerns should not be a cause of criticism but Can You Hear Me?’s
placing in the series means that this feels like the third lecture in five
weeks and it’s draining. When someone repeatedly shouts at you, you eventually
stick your fingers in your eyes. This is disappointing, as Can You Hear Me?
offers the most subtle exploration of its themes and its message is put across
far less earnestly. I’m not sure that the Doctor’s refusal to talk to Graham
about his cancer scare is a great choice though. As the person who should be
setting the example of the best way to behave, to shirk from responsibilities,
however awkward they may be, in an episode of this nature, is wrong. That’s a
side issue though because there is lots of fun to be had here. Zellin is
extremely well played by Ian Gelder, sinister and skeletal, and the high
concepts and varied locations bring a strange edge to this unusual fusion of
ideas. The scene in which the child waits in bed for the bogeyman to arrive has
to be one of the scariest in the show’s history and must surely exist deliberately
to frighten the little ones! The very idea of someone’s fingers finding their
way into your ears during sleep is upsetting enough for an adult. There’s some
clunking dialogue though: the policewoman’s encounter with Yaz is cloying and
the Doctor’s line, “This place has so many secrets to yield” along with her
philosophising to no-one at all about the wonders of the Islamic Golden Age are
excruciating. But Can You Hear Me? is so full of vitality, so
conceptual, that it was always going to feel like a mixture of the absurdly
good and the vaguely poor. It’s never less than a fascinating episode.
12. KERBLAM!
Much has been made online of the
politics of Kerblam! Essentially, the big business wins. Perhaps
surprisingly for the Chris Chibnall era though, the message here isn’t a
political one; it’s humanitarian. Live and let live. Kerblam!’s ending
doesn’t bother me at all. But perhaps it does make for shallower viewing? The
story ends up as merely an action caper in an Amazon warehouse with some sinister
robots. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. In fact, this probably
feels as close to a classic series episode as we are ever likely to get. The
trouble is we’ve come to expect more from our modern Doctor Who and Kerblam!
ends up feeling empty. Because all it seems to want to do is tell a rollicking,
scary caper, with a few twists and turns, it doesn’t really make the most of
its sinister postmen. It is certainly watchable, but it leaves the viewer with
nothing very much to say about it.
11. THE WITCHFINDERS
I watched this with my girls at 9
o’clock at night, just before they went to bed. It certainly left the younger
feeling unsettled. The Witchfinders has a grim atmosphere, punctuated by
Segun Akinola’s haunting score. Joy Wilkinson and Sallie Aprahamian certainly
conjure the dark horror of witchcraft, the episode oozing with a malicious,
oppressive atmosphere. There were obviously filming problems and it does feel
as if not enough material was able to be shot on location. Where’s the hero
shot of Jodie’s Doctor diving into the water? Why are there no underwater
shots? The opening sequence in which the village desists in its revels and the
populace walk in silence to the lake is missing vital shots and we end up being
told that the villagers have stopped and are looking sombre instead of
seeing them. There’s also a sense that the story is a little “top heavy,” its
ending feeling rushed, as if there had to be an injection of sci-fi before the
credits rolled. All that being said, the malevolent menace of The
Witchfinders is memorable and affecting and Alan Cumming is a ferociously
camp King James, alongside the classier Siobhan Finneran making for a
terrifically troubling and contrasting double act.
10. ORPHAN 55
Like The Witchfinders, Orphan
55 has clearly had issues on location. The Dregs presumably didn’t show up
in Tenerife as they are strangely absent from the car crash material and seem
superimposed in other exterior shots. However, despite the scathing critical
reception the episode received, there’s a great deal to enjoy here. Firstly,
the furious pace means that Orphan 55 never stands still. Within ten
minutes, the guests of the spa are being horribly killed. The revelations in
the script are well-positioned and unfold at a pleasing rate. The all-pervasive
air of cynicism is unusual in Doctor Who and makes for unsettling viewing. The
Dregs themselves are a hideous creation and their origins upsetting. The
mother-daughter plot doesn’t work: as well as it being sketchily written,
there’s the obvious problem of colourblind casting causing believability
issues. Is Bella Kane’s biological daughter or is this a more detailed history
we are missing? As it stands, Bella seems more like an embittered
foster-daughter and this muddies the waters somewhat. Still, none of the
problems of character or filming seem to matter, so furious and manic is the
pace of this thriller. And I could forgive the final earnest lecture if we
hadn’t already had one fifteen minutes earlier. Despite its issues, Orphan
55 is a bull-headed thrill ride.
9. RESOLUTION
This is the finale Series 11
needed. It feels large and expensive: car chases, army set-pieces, a tangibly
global scale. And then the Daleks return! Chris Chibnall does a grand job of
re-establishing the perhaps forgotten terror of the Skarosian pepper pots, the
monsters having become a little overfamiliar perhaps. They bring an up-to-now
missing sense of mythos to the Whittaker era and give her Doctor a stand-off
scene against the biggest of big bads. For a festive special, it curiously
lacks a sense of celebration though. There’s nothing very uplifting about this
story set during the comedown after the party the night before. But it at least
feels purposeful, after five episodes which have seemed a little aimless. The
action and plotting is robust, if a little hokey (Hello, microwave!). The
centrepiece in which the Dalek wipes out the battalion is incredibly impressive
and the power of the Daleks is most definitely restored.
8. THE GHOST MONUMENT
There is a great freshness about The
Ghost Monument. If The Woman Who Fell to Earth told us about what we
might expect from this series’ characters, the second instalment of the 2018
run would prove how huge Doctor Who could now look. The planet Desolation is a
barren, expansive realm, bleached in sunlight. As we first reach this
forbidding world, we’re witness to a spaceship crash the like of which we have
never seen before. At the start of The Time of Angels, the Byzantium
crashed during the title sequence. Here, we see Ryan and Graham terrified,
running with all their strength, to escape the incoming vessel which looks
solid and frightening as it approaches the sands. The domain of the Sniper Bots
is also memorably sinister and there is strong support from a fine cast of
guest actors. There is an element of characteristic Chibnall clunking: the
cigar is set up so obviously as a device to be used later on and Shaun Dooley’s
earthy Epzo is given a cynical monologue to exemplify how damaged he is. But on
the whole, despite these niggles, and despite a monster made from dishrags
which are most certainly not drashigs, The Ghost Monument is a visual
treat and a breath-taking promise of what the new age has in store.
7. SPYFALL
Chris Chibnall returns to Series
12 ballsier and bolder. Part One of Spyfall boasts three huge
set-pieces, each larger than the one before. The now-experienced still-new
production team really know how to make this programme. The Kasaavin are an
unsettling and elusive foe, Lenny Henry makes for an excellent, quiet villain
and Sacha Dhawan’s duplicitous O is a magnificent star performance. As the cliff-hanger
heralds the coming of the new Master, we know that however that plane reaches
the ground, Doctor Who has well and truly landed again. The second half isn’t
quite as strong: a hotchpotch of historical time zones building to a denouement
which doesn’t wholly satisfy. Ada Lovelace and Noor Inayat Khan, like Rosa
Parks last year, are written around so as not to damage their integrity.
(This is a curious feature of the Chibnall era – it’s never seemed to bother a
writer before.) But all the elements for a cracking Doctor Who yarn remain and
by its conclusion, we’re still not sure who the Kasaavin are, and we long for
the day that the mother-killing Daniel Barton will be paid out. There’s got to
be a sequel coming, Chris!
6. NIKOLA TESLA’S NIGHT OF
TERROR
Now this is an assured and
accomplished piece of work. We start with a pan down from the Niagara Falls and
end with a giant scorpion chase through the streets of old New York. But the
greatness of Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror is that it never feels showy
or contrived. It tells its story naturally and charmingly gives equal weight to
the celebrity historical status of both Tesla and Edison. Goran Visnjic’s Tesla
is a real quality turn and our hearts are with him throughout. He gives perhaps
the strongest performance of the Whittaker era and Robert Glenister isn’t far
behind him either. The Queen of the Skithra’s costume doesn’t quite chime with
the tail she has in only a select number of shots but Anjli Mohindra gifts us
with a splendidly villainous reading. This is a strong, rounded, wholesome
script, well-directed, thematically cohesive and with proper chills. That final
chase is spectacular, well scored and breath-taking. And it is fun! It allows
its historical celebrities to just have a bit of a lark with the Doctor without
the po-faced reverence with which other stories of the era treat their heroes.
5. THE TSURANGA CONUNDRUM
I don’t get the hate. I loved The
Tsuranga Conundrum. It was another tale which seemed to use the TARDIS team
well, unpeeling the layers a little more. The scene between Ryan and Yaz is
quiet and moving. The P’Ting is an inventive creation, cute but frighteningly
ravenous. The design work is beautiful, like the Ark in Space we always
imagined. As we approach the episode’s climax, Chris Chibnall brings his story
strands together with aplomb: the Ciceros piloting the ship, Yoss giving birth,
the P’Ting flying through the starfield. The last few minutes of Tsuranga
really sing, proving that Chibnall’s best work is often when dealing with large
casts of characters all with one shared mission. He did the same with Broadchurch
and even Cyberwoman (of which I am also an “out” fan!). The only issue
with Tsuranga is the scene involving a wooden Jodie Whittaker doing
“poorly” acting in which she shares the screen with the similarly wooden Brett
Goldstein as Astos. If there were ever a case of two actors exploring a medium
to which they are not well-suited, it is here.
3. ASECENSION OF THE CYBERMEN
/ THE TIMELESS CHILDREN
I love Ascension of the
Cybermen. It is the sort of retro sci-fi thriller that perhaps Doctor Who
has missed for a number of years. It’s simply an action-packed runaround which
puts our heroes in real jeopardy. The lovely opening starts with the Flat Team
Fam breezing in with gadgets to save the day, only to have their gadgets
destroyed within minutes and cause them to flee with the last of humanity. It’s
a rare occasion in the Chibnall era of expectations being turned on their heads
and it certainly pulls the rug from beneath the viewer. From now on, we’re no
longer safe. By the time we reach the dead Cybermen floating in space, I am
completely sold. Segun Akinola’s industrial score, coupled with the gun-metal
visuals and non-stop, ever progressive peril make for a perfect hokum storm.
The cliff-hanger is admittedly a little weak and predictable but the second
episode is its own very different beast. Essentially, the earthly members of
the fam fight the Cybermen, hiding inside their metal suits and doing the
things we love Doctor Who to do. In the meantime, the Doctor falls asleep when
the Master reads her an audiobook. It shouldn’t work at all, but The
Timeless Children is resolutely gripping. I don’t care that history is
seemingly overwritten, and then – just to prove it isn’t – we flashback to The
Brain of Morbius with a blast of the theme tune helping us realise this
whole show is one beautiful, interweaving tapestry. It’s a moment of uplifting
euphoria.
3. THE HAUNTING OF VILLA
DIODATI
The Chibnall era rarely dabbles
in the poetic. Its wisest ambition is probably to go for schlock, which the
previous two-parter in this list affects majestically. Here, new writer Maxine
Alderton authors a tale of poets and thematically writes with far more grace
and poetry than her Series 12 stablemates. Even when Ashad describes the fate
of his children, the violence is viscerally felt so rich and evocative is the
language used. Like Mary Shelley, Alderton tells a story of brutal spare part
surgery with elegance and harrowingly beautiful articulation. Wisely, this is
Shelley’s strongest influence on The Haunting of Villa Diodati. This is
not the story of how she came to conceive Frankenstein. It is the story
of the whole literary ensemble, in one night of terror, on the cusp of
something terrible. The arrival of Ashad and his ensuing scenes, particularly
with Mary’s baby, are amongst the most frightening Doctor Who has ever produced
and even the geography of the villa is used to misdirect its guests. This is
sublime, terrifying Doctor Who.
2. ARACHNIDS IN THE UK
It may surprise readers to see
this spidery flick so high up in the Jodie Whittaker era but to my mind, this
is the best use of this TARDIS crew to date. Graham is in mourning, still
seeing the ghost of Grace; we’re introduced to Yaz’s fun family and Ryan gets
to play Stormzy and be the cool guy. This would seem to be a winning set up.
Unfortunately, the remainder of the series doesn’t live up to the promise of
this most charming and well-used family unit. The spiders are absolutely
terrifying. This arachnophobe’s skin was crawling. Chris Noth’s Trump-like
Robertson is an evil bastard and just the sort of big bad villain the Chibnall
era is good at delivering. (See Tzim-Sha, Ashad, Daniel Barton, Queen Skithra,
the Master, Zellin – it’s full of them!) Noth adds a sparkle of American class
though, delivering a robust and powerful performance. His line about his number
two, Kevin, being eaten is laugh out loud funny. And that’s probably why I hold
Arachnids in such high esteem. Like Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, it
is fun, punchy, using its gang brilliantly, and having a good old, frightening
laugh about the world. It’s pulpy adventure of the highest order.
1. DEMONS OF THE PUNJAB
A slice of modern history we
should all know much more about. I teach children from Bangladesh and Pakistan
and it was a source of personal dissatisfaction that I didn’t know more about
the Partition. Here, the troubles of India are told through one family and are
all the more poignant and personal for it. Like Vincent and the Doctor,
the lead up to the brave, deeply moving climax is rather languid. Vinay Patel
allows us to live in this world awhile, get to know its people, before the
oncoming horror – on horseback – is unleashed. The final scenes are agonising
to witness. Shane Zaza’s Prem puts in a haunting performance and his last
moments with his brother are replete with regret and loss. There can’t be
another Doctor Who story quite like this one. It has such a particular story to
tell. If Jodie’s wedding speech falls a bit flat, and the opportunity to see a
bit more of Yaz is wasted, it doesn’t matter. Because as those horses come
pounding through the dust, their riders armed with rifles, Doctor Who
transcends itself, producing a show of ecstatic frisson, of hard-hitting
real-world horror. The Partition of India is here in our living rooms and if we
didn’t know much about it beforehand, Chris Chibnall and Vinay Patel ensure
that we can never, ever forget it.
JH
Addendum
Writing up these Doctor rankings
has been a labour of love and one that has certainly made lockdown feel worthwhile.
When else would I have found the time to be so encyclopaedic about this amazing
history? If you’ve been reading these articles, can I extend my complete
thanks? It has been lovely to be able to share my thoughts and have people
interested in my scribblings, particularly in a time when we need to feel
connected, perhaps more than ever. I have discovered things too. I have
discovered that the good stories hugely outnumber the bad, that there are very few
eras I take against, almost no stories that I loathe, and that the greatest stories
of Doctor Who represent not just fine science fiction, but the best television
of all time. From the first to the last Doctors, I granted top places to The
Daleks’ Master Plan, The Web of Fear, The Green Death, The Deadly Assassin,
Kinda, Revelation of the Daleks, Ghost Light, Bad Wolf / The Parting of the
Ways, The Impossible Planet / The Satan Pit, The Time of Angels / Flesh and
Stone, Dark Water / Death in Heaven and Demons of the Punjab. Now there is
a list of television programmes that any TV Historian would find hard to better.
Look at the scope, the ambition, the heart on display and take pride that
throughout all its forms, our favourite show can reach such magnificent heights.
If all we have to do right now is watch Doctor Who, then we are blessed.
