Half Way Out of the Dark: The Christmas Specials Ranked

It is difficult for fans who grew up in the wilderness years to fully comprehend that a 13-year-old fan will not have lived through a single Christmas Day when Doctor Who was not on the television. To think that when the show returned in 2005, we were worried that it might be unsuccessful, or worse – an embarrassment! Doctor Who now motors through the Christmas schedules every year, each time offering something new, unique and very, very strange.

Which are the best though? What does each festive treat have to offer? Here’s my rundown of the specials from least to most favourite, including the most recent Twice Upon a Time. What I will say though in the spirit of Christmas is this: I’d happily sit down with a mince pie and some mulled wine and enjoy any of these prestigious and very special programmes. There is not one bad programme among them. Well, apart from this first one:

THE RUNAWAY BRIDE

It’s just rubbish, isn’t it. We meet Donna Noble who, contrary to what yeasayers would have you believe, does indeed shout her way through most of the story. (She gets better later in the episode – and much better in her full television season – but here for much of the story’s length, she’s an irritating mouth on legs: “Get me to the church!”) What kills the episode is its feeling of repetition. We’ve got the Killer Santas from last year but this time, there’s not much reason for them to be there and they’re not quite as sinister. We’ve got a Killer Christmas Tree but this time it doesn’t spin wildly like a whirling dervish; it plops baubles at you. At the time, I remember wondering if every Christmas special was going to be like this: trees and Santas. And The Runaway Bride stands out now as the only special to feel like a re-hash of last year’s bonanza before Russell T Davies realised that this show would go on forever and that every Christmas special can be quite vividly different. Granted, the taxi sequence is terrific and worth tuning in for, but there’s a feeling of diminishing returns in this episode as its big reveals become less… big. In the last act, we meet the Racnoss, a clearly immobile, stupid prop with an annoying actress (who is usually bloody brilliant!) inside it and her annoyingly invisible brood. Then, we have a boring trip to the beginning of the Earth which we witness from miles away. I’ve always held that if the Doctor must return to the TARDIS for a conversation (Hello Impossible Astronaut! Hello Black Orchid!) then the story has some serious pacing issues. There’s the nebulous huon particle plot which equates roughly to magic dust – see also vortex energy, void-stuff and the power of the archangel network. There’s a lovely summery feel to this episode so it doesn’t even feel like Christmas and the latter half is set against garishly lit red and green flats. The major problem with this story is that we’ve seen it many times before but better. What’s that you say? The Thames has been drained? So what, it was Big Ben last year and that really was amazing.

THE NEXT DOCTOR

If this story had been called The Court of the Cyberking, I may feel better about it. As it happens, The Next Doctor as a title is drab. It feels clunky and undercooked and compared with the previous year’s epic outing, that’s exactly how this Christmas Special feels. It’s an hour long compared to last year’s 75-minuter and thus feels smaller. It’s a more contained story but with less spectacle. The Cyberking, in all its glorious CG beauty, towers over the city in the last 10 minutes of The Next Doctor. Starship Titanic, in all its glorious CG beauty is glimpsed in the first few seconds of Voyage of the Damned and that’s only the very beginning. The Next Doctor feels comparatively so much less special. Were it a mid-series episode, it would certainly be looked upon as grander but as it stands, it’s falling short of last year’s dizzying heights. The title never, not even for a second, convinces so the essential mystery of the story’s first half feels like something to be got over before we get to the meat of the tale. Had the focus been more on Miss Hartigan, her lonely life and rise to Cyber-monarch, we may have had something more entertaining. As it stands though, David Morrissey mopes about mumbling in the dulcet tones of a Russ Abbott impersonator for half an hour. Funny that both he and Sarah Parrish, who had been so wonderful together in Blackpool alongside David Tennant both fail spectacularly to enliven a Doctor Who episode. Derblha Kirwin, on the other hand, dazzles in the story’s best scene: the Cyber invasion of a snowy graveyard. Bluntly though, the Cybermen look shocking. Gone is their might of steel, to be replaced by black plastic heads and rubbery digits. All told, The Next Doctor is just a bit dull and unspectacular when everything around it is so full of pizazz. 

THE RETURN OF DOCTOR MYSTERIO

This is a particularly strange beast. In and of itself, Mysterio is decent stuff but as a Doctor Who Christmas Special - in a year when Doctor Who has been off the telly – it fails to pack a punch. Quite unexpectedly, the only time the story feels less like knockabout fluff and more vitally alive is in the last few minutes at the mention of River Song. Mysterio is a superhero film with a 60-minute runtime, meaning that cuts have had to made – chiefly budget ones. It is irritating that we fail to see the superhero in question do anything remotely super. He holds up a bomb at the very end of the tale, but his remaining feats of derring-do are left off-camera and delivered via news reporters. Instead, we get Matt Lucas pulling focus by twatting about with an elephant and a three-way split-camera phone-call which tries desperately to be funny but isn’t. However, there are scenes which do work. The Ghost and his girl meeting for a romantic dinner on a rooftop deliver scenes which truly sparkle and the pre-titles hanging-from-a-rooftop business is cherishably Doctor Who. Quite what this story has to do with Christmas, on the other hand, I don’t know.

THE DOCTOR, THE WIDOW AND THE WARDROBE

There is much to love in this most unloved of Christmas Specials. The pre-titles sequence has got to be one of the most exciting pieces of action Doctor Who has ever presented. The “caretaker” sequence in which our hero conducts a tour of the house is warm, upbeat and extraordinarily Christmassy. The wooden King and Queen are rather frightening in their imposing statures and stillness. It has charm by the bucket-load and the whole thing looks beautiful too. So why is it so reviled? Honestly, by the time the children have passed through the Christmas present and into the new world, the story grinds to a halt. It takes an eternity to reach the lighthouse and the Androzani crew, despite being played by terrific comedy actors, have nothing to do. The ending too is utterly predictable and a touch saccharine. Perhaps Steven Moffat, after a whole season of inter-tangled, over-complicated plotting and misdirection writes a reactionary story which is far too simple with certainly nowhere near enough plot to fill its runtime.

THE END OF TIME

As a regeneration story, The End of Time probably just about works. As a Christmas Special, it’s an odd one. In the episode actually broadcast on Christmas Day, offerings are surprisingly drab. It’s the equivalent of a stringy piece of tinsel in lieu of decoration. The Doctor’s chase after the Master through the wasteland is odd, colourless and bleak. Scenes melt into each other without definition or ironically, a sense of time. After the Doctor’s aforementioned breathless chase, he simply finds the Master’s hideout a few scenes later, walking in on him without energy or sense of occasion. Things in The End of Time just happen because they happen. We find out what a white-point star is when we are introduced to it because suddenly the plot needs an ‘out.’ There are so many rules being broken here, it’s almost irritating. However, The End of Time does mark the finish of one very vivid golden age of Doctor Who. When watching Planet of the Spiders, we forgive the chase sequence because it’s one last hurrah for Jon Pertwee. Here, we forgive the plot deficiencies and leaps of internal logic because we are saying goodbye, not just to David Tennant but to Russell T Davies and this is as fitting a tribute as one can imagine. The regeneration roll call lasts an eternity but it feels earned. This is very much the end of a five-year story and it feels right that it’s a little indulgent, even a bit heavy-going at times because it is deserved. Most affecting of all though, are those scenes between David Tennant and Bernard Cribbins, the old soldiers, discussing skirmishes and graves and death and weaponry. They alone are worth what is essentially a flabby, cluttered and unfocused celebration, though celebration – and a grand one at that - is probably the best word to describe The End of Time. 

THE CHRISTMAS INVASION

Henceforth, it is very difficult to order the Christmas Specials, such is their extremely high quality. Awarding The Christmas Invasion such a lowly position is difficult because there is so much joy in it, so much to love, so much of the spirit of Christmas that it feels cruel. However, order must be had and given the staggering quality of those stories above it, here is where it sits. David Tennant’s first story makes the bold move of having him essentially absent for 45 minutes. Granted, there’s the very funny “I need…I need…” sequence up in Tyler Towers but for the rest of the time, Tennant is bedbound. We forget how innovative a move this was at the time, because we’re so familiar with The Christmas Invasion’s plot now. But it is extremely canny. “So you wanna see the new Doctor? Tough. You’ll have to waist til Easter.” However, in the 15 minutes of screen time he is afforded, Tennant dazzles. He has an instant handle on the part and Davies’s dialogue that Christopher Eccleston, try as he might, never quite got to grips with. Tennant quotes The Lion King, talks of Big Red Buttons using audible capital letters and chooses a magnificent costume in the last few minutes. There are one or two niggles. Directorially, there are a few “off” sequences. What is with that crazed military music as Harriet Jones walks uncomfortably around a corner in the base? The height of the ship is never quite clear and the colour grading is a bit grey and murky for Christmas. However, like the festive period itself, this is a story of hope. The Doctor and Rose will carry on having adventures. Forever. The last scene completely warms the heart: The future looks so bright. 

LAST CHRISTMAS

What a strange beast this one is! Despite the presence of Santa Claus, a sleigh ride, a snowy rooftop, elves, toys and the North Pole, this story doesn’t much feel like Christmas. It feels dark and dangerous and scary, tinted in deep blues and a feeling of uncanny isolation. Face-crabs slither down from ceilings, people are sucked into television sets and a woman who dreamt she was a scientific outpost worker in reality cannot walk. It is a story in which we are allowed to mourn Danny Pink and are promised that every Christmas could indeed be “last Christmas.” This is a Christmas Special for the Capaldi era: grim, bittersweet and unpredictable. It really shouldn’t work given its menagerie of elements and dangerous tone but – despite one scene in the middle in which every bugger reiterates that we could well be in a dream using almost exactly the same explanation over and over again – it resolutely does. Last Christmas is a moving triumph and ultimately the story of the Doctor and Clara’s reconciliation.

THE SNOWMEN

Compare this to The Next Doctor, the other Victorian Christmas Special, and The Snowmen’s richness is evident. It’s more complicated, ambitious, magical and atmospheric. Directorially, it’s leaps ahead of its 19th century counterpart: there’s the supreme sequence of Clara entering the TARDIS for the first time, and for the very first time we get that shot – we’re outside, we circle the ship, we enter, it’s bigger on the inside: all in one fluid movement. The snowmen themselves look frightening and sinister, the CG snow which opens the episode looks haunting and alive. Richard E Grant gives an unpredictably tremendous underplayed performance (given his dreadful turn as the Shalka Doctor) and to top it all, it’s a prequel to The Web of Fear. The only downsides are niggles: I wish the Paternoster gang had been given an onscreen introduction, rather than their own internet-only “prequel.” The narrative leap from A Good Man Goes to War to The Snowmen doesn’t quite work. Given where the story sits in the ongoing narrative of Doctor Who, the special also feels like it lacks its own ending, acting as a springboard for the Doctor’s mission in the next series. In that sense, The Snowmen doesn’t really work entirely on its own merits but nevertheless, by emulating Mary Poppins, Tim Burton, The Web of Fear and Sherlock Holmes, the story boasts all the ingredients of a very clear winner. It is a sumptuous, beautifully-told tale of the snow and ice at the heart of Christmas. 

THE TIME OF THE DOCTOR

Yes, there is an awful lot going on in The Time of the Doctor, but after a few viewings, when all the dots are joined and everything has fallen into place, it’s easier to see what a minor masterpiece it is. Steven Moffat finds himself at a point when he suddenly has to conclude a story he has been telling for almost four years and one which he might have suspected he’d have a bit longer to tell. He has to wrap up not just the time of the Eleventh Doctor, but also the Silence arc, the “crack” arc, the Trenzalore arc and jolly well make the story a Christmas Special too. At 60 minutes, a lesser writer would be all at sea with this impossible task, but Moffat manages to navigate it with aplomb and even finds time to introduce us to Handles, a Cybernetic head whose death we feel as sharply as the Doctor and Clara. After four years, we even discover who blew up the TARDIS. (Spoilers: It was the Silence. Obvs. Duh. It rankles personally and embarrassingly that I worried about this for a good while during those four years.) When Matt Smith’s time comes to an end, he has such dignity. As an old man, he is heart-breaking. As a younger man for just five more minutes, he is The Doctor again. (Though I do wish the production team had had the gall to introduce Peter Capaldi as the owner of the boots that walk up the TARDIS staircase.) The Time of the Doctor wraps up the era in a neat bow and parcels it away. What could be more Christmassy than that? We can now watch an entire era, from start to finish, from beginning to end and enjoy a very definite and satisfying ending.

TWICE UPON A TIME

For the most part, Twice Upon a Time is a fairly serviceable runaround with added First Doctor. In fact, it’s more of a plodalong than a runaround, the only action being when our four heroes jump onto the chains securing the TARDIS and even that sequence is wonkily directed. The First Doctor doesn’t ring true either: he is a curious mixture of First Doctor and the actor William Hartnell. There are very few examples of the First Doctor being sexist in the original run. The “smacked bottom” line is originally directed at Susan, his grand-daughter and the female companions he travelled with after her departure were essentially substitutes for her. Ironically, the one time he orders his female companion to “fetch” something is at the start of The Tenth Planet Episode 1 and fortuitously a clip the production team can use to bolster their depiction of the original Doctor as a behind-the-times sexist bigot. He never was. So there are plenty of things wrong with this Special: It’s not rip-roaring and action-packed; it’s ponderous and slight. But something happens at the 45-minute mark. Suddenly, it comes alive. We realise this is it for Peter Capaldi and as he looks on at the WW1 battlefield and considers the innumerable friends he has watched die, we feel with him. As he sees Clara, we see the alien, bittersweet melancholy in his smile and we feel it. In every word of his final, quite beautiful speech, we feel it. He and indeed Steven Moffat, have been truly remarkable, utterly magnificent. And we can forgive and forget the wonky journey with an off-centre version of the First Doctor (and a staccato performance by the usually brilliant David Bradley) we took to get to the end of this story and remember only where we ended up: with something majestic. Something transcendent.

THE HUSBANDS OF RIVER SONG

When fans talk about Christmas Specials, this beauty always gets missed. Perhaps, that’s because fans were too busy thinking of this as the last story for an entire year rather than seeing the great story that it actually is. The Husbands of River Song is superb. There’s a crashing Voyage of the Damned style spaceship, a head in a bag, a head with a diagonal schism through its centre, a rollicking screwball element throughout, and – at the finish – one of the most beautiful and underplayed scenes in the whole history of the programme. Look at Capaldi watch River as she looks on at the stones. He stands, composed and strange behind her. What is the man thinking? Loss, love? This is the Doctor. Capaldi plays the scene in a distant, alien and deeply affecting way. What is so wonderful about Capaldi as an actor is that every single decision he makes is an offbeat, unusual one and he is never ever predictable. The last scene of Husbands is one of my very favourite Capaldi moments. And isn’t the music just terrific? The whole story is an underrated masterpiece. In years to come, fans will realise they’d never had it so damn good.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Second place for A Christmas Carol feels insulting. It is so rich, so beautiful. Even its musical score is one of the most accomplished and filmic the series has ever enjoyed before or since. Murray Gold is on fire here. His score is as Christmassy as the episode itself, which unlike more saccharine fare, acknowledges the darkness at the heart of the festival. Katherine Jenkins also adds her considerable vocal talents to the world of A Christmas Carol and - in the end - fills it with a beautiful melancholia. Steven Moffat’s “halfway out of the dark” plotting is a thing to balk and marvel at. Every moment, every second buys us either a laugh, a tear or a shock and gives us moments of awe, wonder and thrill. The shark trip across the skies is wonderous and indicative of a director at the very top of his creative game. The story is at once familiar and unusual. We don’t realise there hasn’t been any snow until in the final few minutes, it starts snowing. I simply can’t articulate how perfect an adventure A Christmas Carol is. Even using the word adventure seems to belittle it, make it sound hollow. There is a great, beating sad, happy heart at the core of this tale and it flits across the screen like well-oiled clockwork of the grandest design. This is perfection.

VOYAGE OF THE DAMNED

Only a super-sized 75-minute, Kylie-starring blockbuster of a disaster movie could knock A Christmas Carol from the top spot. This is Doctor Who at its biggest and best, told in the most vivid possible colours. The casting of Kylie says everything. The Starship Titanic setting says everything. This is a massive adventure. It is also a perfect disaster movie script from Russell T Davies: we meet the characters quickly and they are painted in memorable, broad but original strokes. There are moments of laugh-out-loud funny, the Tenth Doctor is loveable and fun, there is a talking conker that we fall in love with and cry for when he dies, there are flying angels with killer halos, there’s a metal-bound, bald nutcase whose teeth twinkle even in death. The last scene is marvellous too. Mr Copper – in a brilliantly funny turn from Clive Swift – discovers he is rich and goes a little mad. The Doctor smiles and leaves. That’s our hero. In any other series, the fate of Mr Copper would be that of the lead character, but here we have a man who isn’t remotely interested in money. He is a thrill-seeking nomad and as he leaves we are promised adventures still to come. They can’t all be as tremendously grand as Voyage of the Damned but they can at least aspire to be.

JH

The Twelfth Doctor - Top Ten Episodes

As the twelfth incarnation of the Doctor finishes his time aboard the Tardis, I thought's I'd reflect on his tenure by picking out my favourite television episodes that he appeared in over the past few years:

10. Thin Ice
The mystery for this episode - visitors to a Thames frost fair disappearing and being snatched through the ice - is a great hook. Everything about the story feels realistic and this helps to set the atmosphere - the studio-shot set of the fair looks magnificent, the large supporting cast adds a great communal feeling and Bill's reaction to the little boy's death near the start is very realistic. Whilst the sea creature is a bit disappointing, the fact that it isn't alien in origin should be applauded and makes a refreshing change.

9. The Return of Doctor Mysterio
Whilst this isn't really a fan-favourite, if taken as a nostalgic homage to late-20th Century superhero stories, it can stand alone as being quite a fun Doctor Who adventure. Editing techniques play homage to comic book layouts and there are some good discussions around the theme of keeping your identity a secret. The Doctor has some great scenes with Grant the 'babysitter' and the ending, whilst predicable, does bring the story to a nice close. The villain isn't exactly memorable but the episode is very well self-contained and left this reviewer with a smile on their face.

8. The Witch's Familiar
This episode is easily best remembered for its amazing conversation scenes in which Davros begs the Doctor for compassion to help save him. Julian Bleach’s performance is simply outstanding as he manages to use just a few facial expressions and his tone of voice with maximum effect to convey Davros' suffering. On top of this, the idea of putting Clara inside a Dalek to help break into Skaro is a great twist and leads to some fantastic dialogue between her and Missy as they attempt to get passed the Daleks. The ending is unfortunately humourus - covering a room full of classic Daleks with brown 'mud', but the fantastic journey up to that point makes this easily forgotten on reflection.

7. Deep Breath
Deep Breath is the Twelfth Doctor's debut story and it's an exciting adventure through Victorian London featuring a clockwork villain, a dinosaur and the always hilarious Strax. Capaldi's acting is truly on top form as he suffers with post-regeneration side effects at the beginning and when he later stands up against Half-Face Man above the city. Jenna Coleman also gives a very believable and engaging performance as someone who no longer knows who her friend is and the sequence where she needs to hold her breath to remain safe is an extremely tense watch.

6. Robot of Sherwood
This is a proper Saturday evening family drama which is fun to watch - the Doctor strikes up an unlikely alliance with Robin Hood and must try to figure out who is real and who is fake in Sherwood Forest. Inspiration has clearly been taken from the movie Prince of Thieves with Robin portrayed as an over-the-top, heroic rebel and as such, the episode is full of comedy and light-hearted moments, like when the two leading men go to take part in a sword versus spoon fight together. The ending was unfortunately cut just before broadcast and it is this review's belief that every fan must watch it to be able to feel fully satisfied with the story.

5. Kill the Moon
In Kill the Moon, the Doctor finds himself on a space shuttle on its way to make a suicide mission to the moon. Despite suffering the inclusion of some extremely dodgy science, if this story is instead taken more as a pseudo-sci-fi, it's extremely tense to watch and has many scary moments in the lead up to the final resoultion. The scene where the Doctor is attacked by a vicious spider-like creature is full of suspense and well directed to make viewers sit on the edge of their seats. In addition, the moon set itself looks gorgeous and the moral dilemma regarding whether or not to destroy the moon is superbly played out to make you really debate both sides of the argument.

4 The Woman Who Lived
Fast-paced time travelling stories are always great to watch and this story continues the trend, complete with a hilarious guest appearance from Rufus Hound. Viewers are taken on a whistle-stop tour though Me's everlasting life which manages to be both exciting yet agonising at the same time as she realises that whilst she lives forever, all her friends around her still grow old and die. The inclusion of her tear-stained journals really make you feel sorry for Me and allow you to empathise with how desperate she has become. It's really quite heartbreaking to watch as the Doctor reflects upon the horror that he has inflicted upon her in his attempt to be a good man. All this seriousness though is well-balanced with the comedic inclusion of Rufus Hound as highwayman Sam Swift who enjoys living life to the fullest and takes his hanging as a golden opportunity to perform in front of an audience. The Woman Who Lived really has some very interesting sci-fi concepts in it which are worth understanding and debating. This reviewer hopes that Me will one day return to the Whoniverse so we can discover more of her past, or indeed future, adventures.

3. World Enough and Time 
This is possibly the Cybermen's finest appearance on television - it's dark, it's emotional and it is truly horrific. Set on a colony ship belonging to Earth's twin planet, Mondas, the story follows the Doctor's attempts to rescue Bill as she is taken for 'healing' on a lower floor, whilst he is stuck at the top where time moves much slower. The CGI as the camera zooms through the windows between the floors ship is amazing and really helps you visualise both the wonder of the spaceship and the dilemma the characters are stuck in. Bill's exploration of the hospital wards is frightening to watch as she turns down the volume of patients screaming in agony waiting to be killed, and her eventual conversion into a Cyberman, whilst clearly inevitable, is extremely upsetting and painful to watch. Mention also needs to be said about Razor, the hospital employee whom she befriends - he's a great character who is best described perhaps as being a memorably bizarre person. This episode is extremely atmospheric and sets up the series' finale wonderfully.

2. and 1. Heaven Sent and Hell Bent
These two stories are just an outstanding season finale pairing for Series 9 of modern Who - they are both quite different yet both quite brilliant in their own unique ways. Heaven Sent is very much a one-man piece for the Doctor as he attempts to escape from a mysterious water locked castle - it's truly compelling to watch and Capaldi gives a standout performance as we follow his journey through solving all the puzzles he is presented with. This is then followed by Hell Bent which sees him summoned to Gallifrey in the hope he will reveal the identity of the Hybrid to the Time Lords - a being that is prophesied will conquer the planet. There are many scenes in this which are just perfectly written and directed, the stand off against Rassillon perhaps being the best. It also has a superb ending that just tempts the viewer into wanting more - there's surely plenty of scope here for future Clara-based Big Finish audio adventures. These two episodes encapsulate everything that makes Doctor Who super sci-fi!

SH

Review: Big Finish Main Range 232 - The Middle

Chris Chapman, DVD extras extraordinaire, enjoys his first stab at a full 4-episode Main Range play with The Middle. After his single episode The Memory Bank last year proved so enthralling, I was very excited to see what Chapman could do on a larger scale.

The first episode of The Middle is terrific. It has a spine-tingling pre-titles sequence, the listener left uneasy about the goings-on in this strange world. The idea that it’s Constance’s 35^th birthday, coincidentally tying her up in the machinations of Formicia, feels a little bit too much like coincidence: It’s almost reminiscent of stories in the old annuals or comics, where a character would suddenly have an interest in a matter they hitherto didn’t even mention. Birthdays are a strange one because in Doctor Who nobody ever has birthdays! That’s why it feels so odd. Nevertheless, it is the springboard to the discovery of an intriguing and unsettling world and when we realise that Constance’s birthdays means she will soon be transported away, it feels worth the contrivance.

The play’s zenith comes at the cliff-hanger of Part One, when the Doctor suggests that there is a world-spread euthanasia process in operation that he’s suddenly found himself in the middle of. To reveal the contents of Parts 2-4 would be to spoiler too much but, in honesty, I think Euthanasia World would have proven a more interesting route to travel down. It might not be what Doctor Who is all about, but we’ve had Dark Water for heaven’s sake! And this play teases us with the idea that such a thing is happening. When it isn’t, there’s a sense of minor disappoint.

However, a reviewer’s job is to assess what the product does rather than doesn’t. In that respect, Chapman is a massive success. There is plenty for the Doctor and his companions to get their teeth into, the writer handling three plot strands with skill and alacrity. There is excellent character work in play and performances to match. Mark Heap and Sheila Reid stand out amongst some very talented competition. The play itself is well-structured, only Part Three feeling like it’s perhaps treading water and has run out of new ‘twists.’ The story spirals like a corkscrew to a small-scale climax and we’ve moved from worldwide mechanics to a few people talking. But that’s great: The Middle, as its title suggests is all about its shape. A lesser writer would get hung up on that but Chapman ensures his dialogue is strong, characters rich and that all other elements of the script are as important as its structure.

Technically, the sound design is a bit odd. Much of it is excellent. There’s a moment though, towards the end of Part Two in which the script and actors are heading towards the cliff-hanger: They’re frantic and fast scenes but just before the last one, we cut to some silence and all the momentum of the episode is lost. The cliff-hanger then feels like a damp squib. It’s annoying because Big Finish have always been so brilliant when it comes to sound design, astonishing in fact. With this and The Silurian Candidate offering some seriously mixed choices in terms of quality, it seems that the company are making backwards steps.

All told though, The Middle is a very strong play. It is so focussed on what it wants to achieve and how it’s going to get there, that it works completely in isolation. It’s rare to find a Main Range play so free of continuity or backstory – particularly since the advent of the trilogies – and so this feels like a very particular delight.

7/10

JH 

The Almost Rebel Flesh People

One of my very best friends and I are in dispute. The Rebel Flesh and The Almost People, that curious two-parter from Series 6, is not really held up in fan circles as exemplifying the pinnacle of anything. Nevertheless, he feels that The Rebel People is thoroughly entertaining and that it “never stops you thinking” whereas I see The Almost Flesh as a dreadful piece of television and one I shall hopefully never endure again.

To put our respective theories to the test, we decided to watch together and make notes. Hopefully, I felt I might change my mind and be able to see precisely what he saw in this grim adventure. If anything, our viewing experience made my opinion of The Almost Rebel even worse. I’m not in the habit of writing about Doctor Who without a sense of joy but I feel compelled to put my case forward chiefly because my friend wasn’t swayed. He still felt the story was a strong one, as did the other fans in the room, whilst they almost all universally derided Dark Water! I reach out to you, faithful reader, to agree with me. If you disagree, please don't leave comments: My friend will be insufferable.

To take the positives of Rebel/Almost first: there are several visually arresting showcases in terms of the direction. The solar tsunami hitting the TARDIS is dynamic and full of energy. Later, when it hits the factory, there is a real sense that Julian Simpson is doing everything he can to create a set-piece moment. The flesh avatars line up, their faces changing suddenly in the lightning; The Doctor is thrown from the monastery tower in a burst of electricity; and in the flesh room, the lights go out. It’s viscerally exciting. Music, images and sound effects work in harmony to create unforgettable moments of peril. Later, we have the flesh Jennifer, her head floating atop an impossibly long neck, and the flesh Cleaves racing from the dining hall screaming. There’s also that fairy-tale like POV shot from Rory’s perspective, as he hides behind the crates watching a lost Jennifer wandering helplessly through the monastery grounds. Some of the images on show here are beautiful in their conception.

Also, the music is really good.

At its heart, The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People does have a strong central concept, if an unoriginal one: do clones have the same rights as human beings? Unfortunately, it goes about exploring that theme in a cack-handed, over-complicated and awkwardly contrived way. 

Let me take two major aspects of the scripts and analyse them in order that I might understand what exactly is wrong with this two-parter. 

The Dialogue

It’s bloody awful. For several reasons:

1.       Its attempts to build the world of The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People stumble badly. The talk of “potency stats” and “unrefined” acid feel false. Early mention of “gangers” (later abandoned) is clunky and simply doesn’t feel natural. Characters say things like, “We may have to take that read again,” and you realise that the writer, be it Matthew Graham or Steven Moffat, is trying to create a future world through language but they’ve chosen the wrong vocabulary to change, like someone’s first stab at sci-fi. Why change the word to read when reading would do just as well?

2.       It is clunky. Characters don’t for a minute sound like real people. To give a few examples - At one point, Cleaves – standing on her own – delivers a monologue that goes: “That’s it, Doctor. Befriend them. Team up with them, why don’t you? Make a football team. How about that? You’re going to have us all together singing campfire songs.” Why would someone speak to themselves in such staggeringly stagey dialogue? It’s toe-curlingly bad. Later, we have the Doctor exclaiming, “It is too dangerous around here with acid leaks.” I don’t know about anyone else but the lines makes my skin crawl. They’re so very, very cumbersome. Worst of all is Jennifer’s: “I can still feel how sore my toes got inside my red welly boots.” And Sarah Smart just cannot handle any of her dialogue. 

3.       It’s not funny. It does try to be but it’s not. Rory says, “For want of a better word…ow,” after the tsunami hits. This reads like a joke but there’s no punchline. It’s witless. This irritation extends to the script’s tiresome quirk of repeating phrases seemingly to create cool gags. “Yes, it’s insane and it’s about to get even more insanerer.” It’s not funny; it’s annoying. This is a script that not only gives us “chinny chin chin” but also “rubbishy rubbishy rubbish” and “Things to do, things involving other things.” And just what is that Northern bit about the “foot o’ t’ stairs?”

4.       It’s full of clichés. See: “Who the hell are you?” “This circus has gone on long enough.” “Thems the breaks.” “Strike at will.”

5.       It tries hammering home perfectly obvious points. See: “Who are the real monsters?” “You’re twice the man I thought you were.” “Beware of imitations.” "This is war." If the viewers were stupid enough not to get the points being made in the first place, they really didn’t need to be tailored to with crass, punch-you-in-the-face billboarding. (And it's not a damn war!! It's a small fight. At most, it's a minor skirmish. Why do these four people independently decide that they're suddenly fighting a war?)

6.       The mirroring doesn’t work. So in order to show that the gangers and humans are very similar, the equivalent bodies say very similar lines in different, unconnected rooms. “If it’s war then it’s war.” “Us and them.” They’re phrases said towards the end of Part One but, annoyingly, not by the same people! Cleaves starts in the dining hall with “Us and them” and it’s repeated by Jennifer in the Acid Room! Honestly, what is the point of mirroring the dialogue to show the avatars are the same if you’re going to use a different character's bloody avatar! Which brings me to my next point:

Characterisation

I cannot get past the dialogue, I’m afraid. It’s like hearing forks on a plate every few seconds. But the characterisation is just as bad.

One character throughout all 90 minutes of this Doctor Who story is defined by the fact that he sneezes. He’s given about five lines and there are two versions of him. Both sneeze. And that’s him. Hello Dicken! “Who the hell are you?”

Buzzer says a little more but it’s all contradictory. In the pre-titles sequence, he’s all about his rights. “I could get compensation.” Shortly afterwards, he has an issue with Jennifer’s treatment of the flesh: “Then who the hell cares, right Jen?” and he’s all about flesh rights. So far, so obvious. But then in the same scene, he’s suddenly all, “No need to get poncey. It’s just gunge.” Just who is this guy supposed to be? I don’t know because he’s dead sooner than Dicken and his ganger seems to be a mute.

Jennifer is an utter psycho. I’ve no idea what her motivation is or what she wants. Or even how many of her there are supposed to be. And isn’t there a dead one on the ceiling at the end of Part One or is she just being weird?

Cleaves has the worst dialogue of any of the guest characters and it’s a credit to Raquel Cassidy that she pulls it off and makes it sound even a little bit natural.

Mark Bonnar is similarly brilliant, although despite his relatively ampler screen time, he’s still just the "one with the son."

Rory, you know – Amy’s husband and audience viewpoint cut-out– follows another woman he barely knows into a toilet and stands there watching her like a sad sap. Later, he abandons Amy and runs off to find the weird flesh girl he was earlier hiding from. His behaviour is eccentric to say the least. Maybe it's a side affect of the solar tsunamis that come in two waves - pre-shock and fore-shock - that have suddenly started hitting the Earth so regularly they've built standardised weather cocks to combat them? (Probably using refined acid.) 

Bizarrely, for a programme which seems to be trying to persuade the viewer to value the lives of everyone, gangers included, it doesn’t do very much to help us empathise with its characters. Even Matt Smith’s Doctor (the real one) completely unforgivably throws Amy Pond into a stone wall and screams in her face – a full monologue – as she looks on terrified. It is the most appalling behaviour the Doctor has shown in all the episodes of the revived series and it should never have been filmed.

Bluntly, the characters are all over the place and all speak with the same irritating dialogue. I can’t hear any characters speaking; I just hear a writer, trying desperately and unceasingly to be “cool.” 

Now I could just about forgive the dreadful characterisation if it were replaced with something else, something striking, something other, but I’m still not sure what the script is actually trying to achieve. Because after banging on about the value of all life, flesh or human, after smashing us round the head with its themes, via a Doctor on a rant and characters accusing humans of being “monsters” for discarding the flesh, as soon as the Doctor realises that Amy is made of the white stuff, he turns around, zaps her with a screwdriver and presumably leaves a sticky patch on the TARDIS floor, thus devaluing the flesh-Amy’s life entirely.¹ I wonder if her eyes are the last to go, only asking one question: Why? Why on Earth did we have to endure The Rebellious Flesh People in the first place and why can’t my mate see what a festering piece of amateur dross it really is?

¹ Yes, I know Matthew Graham explained why he wasn’t really killing her on Confidential afterwards but why did he need to? Was he aware how unclear, muddy and in need of an explanation the whole thing was?

JH

"Why not, just at the end, just be kind?" A Celebration of the Unsung and Completely Wonderful Capaldi Years

Twice Upon a Time beckons and its coming heralds the end of so many things: Steven Moffat scripts, Murray Gold scores (probably) and most upsettingly, Peter Capaldi’s emotive, exhilarating take on the Timelord. This is the end of an era. Everything we love is about to vanish forever. It may well be replaced by outstanding Chris Chibnall scripts and a new and celebrated Doctor but one thing’s for certain: for better or for worse, it will never be the same again.

That might be a good thing. “Life depends on change and renewal,” after all. But now, on the eve of the Christmas special, it feels like a time to look backwards, at the most champion of times, before looking forward to what’s to come. 

The Peter Capaldi era has been an unsung one, many deriding his casting. In a theatre dressing room, I bizarrely heard an actress opining, “He needs to go. He’s far too old.” I just cannot fathom how a large section of the world cannot see what a maverick, trail-blazing and ferocious Timelord we have in our midst. Capaldi is extraordinary, every line reading infused with alien energy and intent. Look at him for instance in perhaps one of his less celebrated stories, The Girl Who Died, and marvel as he takes control of the narrative and drives the audience forward as he remembers why he chose his face. He is bottled lightning. He is fizzing. Look at him in the closing moments of The Return of Doctor Mysterio, as – left alone in the TARDIS – he demonically begins to pilot the ship. He is a madman in a box, but this madman is far more dangerous, unpredictable and astonishing than ever before.

It could be argued that Capaldi’s three seasons are very different, the era struggling to settle down into a uniformed, robust shape. But then, so were Matt Smith’s three terms at the helm: one traditional, another arc-based and the final one split in two. Capaldi’s are arguably more consistent but the changes in the Doctor’s character set them apart from one another. In his first year, he is the Dark Doctor. Clara cares so he doesn’t have to. The season is his voyage of self-discovery. Come the following year, he is happier gooning around with a guitar, although he retains his inability to positively interact, the flash cards of Under the Lake a testament to that. Finally, by his third and last series, he seems to have mellowed. When he introduces Bill to his time machine, he theatrically throws on his coat, grins and with a hint of self-satisfaction smiles, “TARDIS for short.” This is a performance decision we would never have seen in those first two seasons. This is a Doctor who no longer worries about who he is. He is – as he approaches his death - ironically content.

What then have been the biggest successes of Capaldi’s time as the Doctor? Which episodes mark out both him as a performer and his era as being, in my view, such a grand success? I’ll look at some individual stories and hopefully, we’ll be even more struck by what a majestic, incredible time we are about to part company with. And hopefully, some of those fans who are no longer wooed by the show might see that there is an awful lot of light in their darkness.

DEEP BREATH by Steven Moffat

Peter Capaldi’s first outing as the Doctor still packs a punch. Like Into the Dalek, it is gloriously well-directed by Ben Wheatley. The half-face man is seriously sinister, the atmosphere brooding and full of menace. The interactions between the Doctor and Clara in the restaurant are like watching electricity. There are moments which positively reek with tension – the stellar sequence in which Clara holds her breath, or later as she reaches out for the hand she hopes must be behind her. Best of all, comes the Doctor’s grandstanding with the half-face man above the city on his balloon of skin.  He notes that the view is much better from down below where “everything is so important.” He talks about a broom, replacing the head, then replacing the handle and asking if the original broom remains. His lack of philosophy and romance here is astonishing: “Is it still the same broom? Answer: No! Of course it isn’t!” There’s nothing for him to debate. Here, in his first outing, the first time he has to be the Doctor, he is at the end of his tether, shouting against the implacability of his mechanical adversary. Compare this to Matt Smith’s “Who da man?” speech and the evidence that we’re in a much more dangerous, unpredictable world presents itself. We are also presented here with a Doctor who has killed a man, either by talking him into taking his own life, or pushing him from a balloon to skewer him on Big Ben. Capaldi looks at the camera dangerously. Yeah, he rocks.

INTO THE DALEK by Phil Ford and Steven Moffat

Look at the sequence in which the Doctor and his gang of soldiers first enter the Dalek through its eyestalk. The sound cuts out, all we hear is weird, whale-like noise against a sea of deep blue. The Doctor’s hand bends and swirls as he pushes himself into shot. The others follow in slow motion, making their way through what looks like a prog rock album cover. This is a new kind of Doctor Who. It’s the sort of trippy strangeness that’s not been seen since Warriors’ Gate or before that The Mutants. This is no dream sequence like those seen in Kinda or Forest of the Dead, which set themselves up as dream sequences. This is the reality we’re in now. A brave, new world. Later, Capaldi talks directly to camera. “Put it inside you and live by it,” he intones, his voice raspy and guttural, but with the soothing qualities of a priest. He could well be talking about this new vision for the show. And here is an actor at the start of his time as the Doctor who has, quite incredibly, already mastered the art of playing the mysteries of this unknowable character. These two instances represent all that is brilliant about Into the Dalek. They make everything feel fresh, new, dynamic and bracingly uncertain.

ROBOT OF SHERWOOD by Mark Gatiss

Series 8 continues its incredibly consistent run of stories with this tight little comedy. What a thrill-ride it is too. This is perhaps the most light and fun story of the entire Capaldi era. (I can’t imagine Twice Upon a Time being a laugh a minute!) Even its colour palette has a vibrancy and panache missing from much of this and indeed Matt Smith’s era. It has the airy, summery feel of an Eccleston story and feels just as free-wheeling. The cast hit pitch-perfect notes of homage: rather than sending up the source material, they treat it with great respect. Anthony Ainley (Sorry, Ben Miller) is ludicrously good as the Sheriff of Nottingham and his scenes with Clara are delicious. The Doctor’s insistence that this is all cheap fakery is so at odds with everybody else’s sense of humour that he becomes something of a laughing stock himself. His scenes with Robin Hood in the prison cells are comedy gold. Perhaps Robot of Sherwood’s relative lack of celebration is because this is Doctor Who for a less cynical time, when heroes were real and we actually could rob from the rich? In short, this is pre-2010 Doctor Who, out of time.

LISTEN by Steven Moffat

One of my best friends hated this. Despite the fact that he likes The Power of Kroll, and thereby I should make no acknowledgement of his judgement calls, I could understand why. “It felt like four TARDISodes,” he said. Well, yes it did. And that was rather the point. This is a story about small pockets of the universe where, left alone, fear can manifest. In a child’s bedroom, the lighting dark and grey, a red blanket moves. And everybody is scared. Alone at night, everybody is scared. At the end of time, one man left completely alone as the darkness looms, is terrified that there is something outside, trying to get in... The whole point of Listen is its smallness. Its key sequence must be when the Doctor orders Clara into the TARDIS, recites a nursery rhyme and then is suddenly seen hanging horizontally, being pulled from the ship. The music, which was once bombastic and almost like a fanfare to every dramatic moment, is quiet and calm. As the world around him goes to pot, there is a frightening stillness about Listen.

KILL THE MOON by Peter Harness

Funny how Marmite an episode can be. Just why Kill the Moon gets so much hate is beyond me. When did we start to assess Doctor Who in terms of its believability? When can we talk of its imagination, beauty and oddness again, and use these as judgement factors? The only “mistake” that I can see is the last shot of the moon hatching: surely it should be enormous? But that’s by the by. (I have a problem with that shot because it goes against the story’s internal logic, rather than being unbelievable.) What is most curious about Kill the Moon is how bleak and dreadful its atmosphere is. It feels very much like there is no hope. At all. Until the last few minutes. The story therefore absolutely earns those crushing accusations from Clara against the Doctor and they feel real and appropriate. When skeletons are found simply left lying on the moon’s surface, there is an awful feeling that there is nothing to be done. The grey starkness of the world is enough to make the tone uneasy, but that the narrative drives through with unrelenting bleakness, piling tragedy upon tragedy, makes it so memorable. As the Doctor’s head is thrust backwards on the beach and he sees the timeline through strange tears, we are in the presence of an alien whose rules we know nothing about.

MUMMY ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS by Jamie Mathieson

The only negative thing I can possibly say about the tale of the mummy is the CG train is a little lacklustre. The image of the Orient Express trail-blazing its way across the universe should be grand and majestic. Instead, it’s very blue and a little bit underwhelming. The remainder of the story, however, is a masterpiece. We kick straight into gear with the death of “Grandmother” and the early scenes wherein the Doctor and Clara explore the train are tainted with a sadness and distance that now lies between them. True to their characters though, they never acknowledge the truth of their relationship and this inadequacy of expression runs like a seam through the narrative. The Doctor cannot tell Clara the truth about Maisie and he leaves her uncertain as to the passengers’ fate. Best of all though, is the scene in the laboratory in which the people around the Doctor die as he besieges them with questions. “No, we can’t mourn!” he rails, as he throws himself headlong into the mystery and into darkness.

DARK WATER/DEATH IN HEAVEN by Steven Moffat

The culmination of Series 8, as I have noted before is a thing of vast beauty. The first half of Dark Water is a worrying sequence of events. Watching Clara so driven to betray the Doctor and the depths to which she will stoop, is harrowing. Watching the Doctor forgive her is heart-breaking. His utter kindness is brought into sharp focus at the start of the story and as the narrative progresses, we feel more and more for the man with the biggest hearts in the universe as he is crushed and humiliated beneath the might of his best enemy. The Master has converted the bodies of people he loved into Cybermen, killed his UNIT friends, brought humanity to “its darkest hour” and given the Doctor an army to play with. All he can cry is, “Why are you doing this?” desperately and feebly. The despair of this finale, the feeling of emptiness and deep, deep sadness as Clara says goodbye to Danny all coalesce to deeply affect the viewer. I watched this with a friend who hadn’t seen Doctor Who for years. After Dark Water, he started watching again. 

LAST CHRISTMAS by Steven Moffat

The despair of the preceding finale is replaced in Last Christmas eventually by hope. We feel the after-effects of losing Danny and Clara and the Doctor come to terms with their attitudes towards each other and their propensity to lie so easily. By the end of the episode, we have a Doctor and companion who are happy to adventure together again, and who believe in Father Christmas. It totally makes sense of their fresher and in some ways more dangerous relationship the following year and paves the path for Clara’s ultimate end. Though dark, small-scale and grim, Last Christmas ends on a cheer and a feel-good message. The Doctor – and Santa Claus – are real.

UNDER THE LAKE/BEFORE THE FLOOD by Toby Whithouse

I must admit to not being much of a fan of the Series 9 opener (The Magician’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar) in that nothing much really happens and then the Daleks are defeated by poo. But in Under the Lake, the series kicks into gear. It feels familiar, of course. It’s your typical base-under-siege set-up. But it’s terrifically tense. The running through corridors has an unusual urgency about it. The scene in Before the Flood with the axe is astonishingly visceral. The second half brazenly starts with the Doctor talking straight to camera about Beethoven and we’re whisked off to a grey village with an atmospheric Curse of Fenric vibe going on. It is a play of two acts, but both have unique moods and complement rather than distract from one another. It also uses time travel in the most successful way since A Christmas Carol.

THE ZYGON INVASION/THE ZYGON INVERSION by Peter Harness & Steven Moffat

I’ll be honest: much of this two-parter doesn’t really work for me. The direction is flat, the narrative unfocussed and for no readily apparent reason we have a Zygon called Bonnie. Now, I’m sure it was drafted and re-drafted and Peter Harness knows precisely why the Zygon is called Bonnie and knows of what precisely the Zygon treaty consisted and knows exactly who that other UNIT girl is. But there’s much that is missing from the script in terms of what really is happening in any given moment. There is a missing simplicity. Why does the Zygon change form in the middle of the street, and why do onlookers simply… do nothing about it, not even wince? Are they Zygons? Who is recording it? Why do the Zygons set up camp in a place called Truth or Consequences, why is it their slogan and why has the Doctor already set up those coincidentally labelled Truth or Consequence boxes?

Which brings us to… that scene with the boxes. It makes up for all the dead ends and half-starts afforded by the first half of this script. Because right at the end of a story I wasn’t particularly enjoying, Peter Capaldi made me cry. I thought exploration of the after-effects of the Time War was long over, but here suddenly, it means everything to the Doctor. He knows what war is and how much it hurts and Peter Capaldi is savage, brutal, patronising, livid and very, very angry. The scene is as close to perfection as any Doctor Who scene is ever likely to get.

FACE THE RAVEN by Sarah Dollard

Again, it’s all about the Capaldi moment. In Heaven Sent he is determined and in Hell Bent he is vengeful. But here, most quietly and affectingly of all, he is just sad. A tiny word but a great huge well of emotion. Of all the things for the Doctor to feel, overwhelming sadness is not one we often see him struggling with. His desperate bleat of, “What about me?” as Clara says her goodbyes is such a huge moment of delicate, true beauty. The rest of the story may be a bit of a muddled, naval-gazing mess and the overarching Ashildr business a complete waste of time, but the last scenes of Face the Raven make this a very special episode indeed.

HEAVEN SENT by Steven Moffat

The Doctor alone and grieving: It’s not the best pitch in the world is it? But again, it puts Peter Capaldi front and centre and we are allowed to live with this most infuriated and intense Doctor for a whole 55 minutes. And doesn’t it just look stunning? The dull yellows and browns of the castle walls, Peter in his best costume, the slow motion, the underwater sequence, the cross fade from the Doctor’s face to the skull, the final belting, punch-the-air montage. All combine to make something utterly memorable. It’s a difficult story to have as a favourite, and it’s difficult to truly love it, but its panache, its ability to do whatever it wants despite the family audience it’s definitely not catering for thank you very much, its bravado and guts make it as close to a work of art as Doctor Who has ever come.

HELL BENT by Steven Moffat

At the time, Hell Bent was considered underwhelming after the praise heaped upon Heaven Sent. However, it acts as a definite companion piece. We get the pay-off to the earlier masterpiece when the Doctor admits to Clara how long he was in the confession dial. We suddenly see the unimaginable extent of his kindness and his love for his companion before he is forced – agonisingly - to forget her. Doors are also opened on glimpses of the Doctor’s past on Gallifrey and the planet itself has never looked so incredible. We’re talking Star Wars here. It had vast, rolling deserts, an orange sky and the citadels themselves look glorious. But the story is not without its secrets. After so many years of lying to each other, the camera pulls away rapidly upwards when the Doctor and Clara finally speak their truths to one another. We never discover who the woman in the barn is and how the poor know and revere the Doctor. Capaldi, as ever, is mesmerising. In fact, for the first fifteen minutes on Gallifrey, Steven Moffat makes the bold decision to have his Doctor worryingly silent. Though Clara does get her fairy tale ending, did we ever expect anything less? The series was always heading towards Clara becoming her own sort of Doctor. And in many ways, that was the only possible ending she could have had.

THE HUSBANDS OF RIVER SONG by Steven Moffat

This Christmas special is surprisingly overlooked by fans. I think it is one of the definitive Christmas outings and one which stands tall next to The Christmas Invasion, A Christmas Carol and Voyage of the Damned. (Yes, I know no one likes VOTD either but they’re all fools, I say!) Husbands has everything: knockabout humour, screwball romance and in the end a great tragedy before a final moment of unadulterated happy melancholy. Capaldi’s Doctor is allowed to do things only the Doctor’s wife could bring out of him: he laughs honestly. “We’re being threatened by a bag!” he giggles, unable to stop. He is, without the responsibility of Clara hanging over him, a freer man, an easier man. It’s a delight to see him enjoying himself. For once, the Capaldi Doctor isn’t cynical, tortured or incapacitated; he is simply having fun with his woman. He also has a great line in teasing his missus. When she discovers who he is, he takes great joy in throwing her flouncy description of her love for him back at her. Then there’s the last scene. The Moffat era has a tendency to do this: in the last few minutes, the story is turned on its head and we realise it was all leading to this moment. As the Doctor gives River his screwdriver, watches her silently from behind as she marvels at the towers and wipes tears from his eyes, we finally see how much he really does love her.

THE PILOT by Steven Moffat

It’s rather wonderful that in Moffat’s last year and indeed Capaldi’s last year, the two of them start again. Peter is again, a Doctor who has moved on, though he now has new secrets to keep. He is distracted and edgy but lovable, mysterious and heroic. The only problem with Series 10 is that we know it is the end so the promise of more adventures to come is a difficult one to fully invest in. It’s trying desperately not to look like it’s plodding towards the finish line, but we know it is. However, Steven Moffat does do a very credible job of trying to disguise that fact. The Pilot is a breezier episode than any of the past 2 years. It comes without baggage or angst and Bill is a reminder that companions can be naïve, funny and unfamiliar with the show’s concepts. Seeing the Doctor through Bill’s eyes is a joy and suddenly, the show almost feels brand new again.

THIN ICE by Sarah Dollard

Which other programme-makers would build a set of London Bridge and the frozen River Thames beneath it? Only the James Bond producers gets close, building their own Westminster Bridge for the finale of Spectre. But Doctor Who, on its relatively meagre budget gives it a go. And succeeds admirably. Thin Ice looks beautiful. Its costumes tell stories, its sets are rich and ornate, and the colour palette and atmosphere are so particular to the period. This is a living, breathing London and the monster is almost irrelevant. This is a tale about class and it’s all the better for it. It also includes Peter Capaldi’s Doctor punching a bigot.

KNOCK KNOCK by Mike Bartlett

David Suchet gives his lesson in how to play a Doctor Who villain. Why wouldn’t anybody want to watch that? It’s a masterclass in acting; a textbook performance. The fact that Doctor Who still attracts guest stars of this calibre says a lot about the programme. He is sinister and aloof, speaking in the old-fashioned language of a creep. And then he’s devastated, crippled and childish. It’s a joy to watch an actor so immersed in his character. Even better is the fact that Peter Capaldi is in the same room and he’s only bloody going and matching him! From a purely performative perspective Knock Knock is golden. And there are the added bonuses that it’s a cracking good script from Mike Bartlett, a genuinely atmospheric piece of direction and there are moments which will definitely make you jump.

OXYGEN by Jamie Mathieson

Watch the pre-titles and know that you are inside a programme that simply astounds. Two bodies float through the vacuum of space, spinning menacingly towards the camera. Over this, the Doctor narrates. He tells us of the dangers of “Space: the final frontier. Final because it wants to kill you.” What follows is a pre-titles sequence which is all about its own terrifying atmosphere. Or lack of. The dead are walking. Oxygen is an exercise in dread. When the Doctor declares at the story’s conclusion that “dying well” is the only option left, for a minute, we believe him. We have seen Bill on death’s very brink and have watched an emasculated Doctor battle the universe ferociously. Now it all seems to be over. Oxygen is quite literally breath-taking. 

EXTREMIS by Steven Moffat

The Pope enters the room and a comedy organ sounds. The President has killed himself with a bottle of pills. How do we go from one to the other? The answer is with the dexterity of a writing genius. Steven Moffat is given a lot of abuse, so-called fans rallying for him to leave and a general feeling that he’s played all his cards too often. (I watched The Girl in the Fireplace last night and saw the River Song story in 45 minutes, as well as mentions of the Lonely Angels, the Doctor Who? gag, something under the bed, a timey-wimey plot and clockwork droids; when your ideas are that good though, who wouldn’t use them again?) In Extremis, Moffat shows us how much more he has to give, how imaginative and original he still can be and what a wealth of story-telling ideas and forms we are about to give up. Extremis not the sort of script a man on the way out should be delivering, but here stands Moffat. One day, he shall be as great as The Girl in the Fireplace’s reputation once again.

THE PYRAMID AT THE END OF THE WORLD by Peter Harness & Steven Moffat

So good I watched this three times in a week. Whilst the rest of the Who fan world were still salivating over Extremis (perhaps rightly so), I was even more thrilled by Pyramid. There is a feeling of dread and doom hanging over the whole episode. It isn’t just the doomsday clock countdown or all the talk of “the world ending” as the close-ups of smashing spectacles and the bottle of beer shattering in slow motion. We know the two plots are connecting. We know events in the laboratory are connected to the end of everything. So to watch the two characters going about their daily business in blissful ignorance is the ultimate in dramatic irony. There’s a tension at play all the way through the story and it ends in as edge-of-the-seat way as any season finale: the Doctor is trapped behind a door, the room about to explode. And it’s at this moment that he tells Bill he is blind. It’s staggeringly tense.

WORLD ENOUGH AND TIME/ THE DOCTOR FALLS by Steven Moffat

So in his final finale, Steven Moffat decides to do his own Spare Parts. That he succeeds admirably takes nothing away from Marc Platt’s pinnacle Cyberman-Genesis story but only highlights just how strong World Enough and Time is. If only that John Simm hadn’t been spoilered by the show itself, I’m sure the ending to the first instalment would have been up there with Army of Ghosts or Utopia. It still manages to pack an alarmingly strong punch though. Like most Moffat two-parters, it’s a game of two halves and the second part is a strange exploration of what it is to do the right thing even when nobody is watching. Every character does something “without witness” and we love them all the better for it. It’s heart-breaking to know that the Doctor may never discover that Missy stood with him in the end. But watching Peter Capaldi tear through the forest, exploding Cybermen and screaming in vengeance is proof positive that this is the best programme ever made. Watching a limping Cyberman kneel at his feet and burst into tears is one step better. This is the television that dreams are made of. What a shame that it is all about to end…

Simon H, over on the other corner of the internet is currently composing his Top 10 Capaldi episodes, so in the interests of fairness, one-upmanship and given the above, here are mine:

10. THE ZYGON INVERSION – (Chiefly for those last 15 minutes.) As adventures go, I hugely prefer ROBOT OF SHERWOOD! Just to be awkward.
9. EXTREMIS
8. MUMMY ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS
7. THE PYRAMID AT THE END OF THE WORLD
6. THE HUSBANDS OF RIVER SONG
5. INTO THE DALEK
4. KILL THE MOON
3. WORLD ENOUGH AND TIME/THE DOCTOR FALLS
2. DEEP BREATH
1. DARK WATER/DEATH IN HEAVEN

So there you have it. Just my twopenneth! If you don’t feel better about the weird and wonderful Capaldi era after this little celebration, you’ve probably not reached this bit of text. In which case, let me tell you: you’ve no soul.

 JH

How The Doctor Got Me My Job

As a Doctor Who fan, I am resigned to the idea that the Doctor will pop up in my life when I least expect it. He's there when I'm not looking for him, always on my shoulder, helping.

When I went for my job in a primary school leading English, I was asked to put together a presentation about Good Leadership, discussing a leader I looked up to and how they might help me in the teaching of English and managing staff. Who could I turn to. Fortunately.

After seeking permission from the Headmaster, I am thrilled to be able to share the following presentation. This is the story of how the Doctor helped me get a job.

A good leader spends a considerable amount of time thinking. We don’t often see a good leader thinking but we do know it is happening. Because when a good leader begins to lead actively, when they greet the masses and put forward their ideas they have done several things:

·       considered the viewpoints of the people they are leading which are often conflicting and made appropriate judgement calls

·       created effective, robust, easy-to-use systems which can be easily explained and generate excitement and anticipation

·       made bold decisions

Leaders make bold decisions. They make bold decisions because they believe in what they are doing. And with their strength of character and enthusiasm - and the strength of their principles and ideas - they can bring others on board; they can engage them in their new ideas and ensure everybody is singing from the same hymn sheet, as it were.

So I have made a bold decision. The leader I have chosen to talk about today is my absolutely genuine hero: Doctor Who. 

Yes, he is fictional. No, there is no such person as Doctor Who. But I have always followed him, since I was three years old, for many, many reasons:

Firstly: The Doctor has no agenda. All he is interested in is doing the best he can, helping people to help themselves and making the morally right, and often difficult choices. When Matt Smith’s Doctor regenerated a few Christmases ago, he gave up three hundred years of his life to save a small village because to leave it would be the wrong thing to do. As Peter Capaldi’s Doctor leaves us this Christmas, he has just given up his life to buy his friends an extra fortnight of theirs. Because he is morally indomitable. Doing the right thing is difficult for a leader given pressures from elsewhere but those who do can be judged, in my opinion, as among the very best.

Secondly: The Doctor solves problems. Not in a knee-jerk, gung-ho manner but with consideration and brains. He can land on a planet where people are oppressed and defeat the oppressors peacefully using his imagination, contagious optimism and a screwdriver. This is a leader who does not pull rank, use weapons or brute force to get what he wants; he is a leader who solves problems with people skills, compassion, invention and shrewdness. 

Thirdly: The Doctor does not work within a framework. If the framework is wrong, he changes the framework. By that token, one could say he was a maverick, and one could argue that schools are not the place for mavericks. But they should aspire to the same philosophies as the Doctor: About treating the children as individuals. About doing what is right by them. About celebrating difference, individuality and imagination. And some frameworks can block those aspirations, reduce the children to numbers. So we can use the framework: to generate information; to find those children who need help. But sometimes, to change the framework, although it may be frightening, is the only thing to do.

In fact, all the things we hope to achieve as teachers, the Doctor hopes to achieve wherever he goes. So much so that I would follow him anywhere. And that ultimately is the mark of a good leader. Someone we want to follow. Someone with a vision that can be embarked on, shared and celebrated.

What is perhaps the most important aspect of the Doctor’s character to me though is the fact that he does not take himself seriously. He takes what he does completely seriously but never himself. And this allows several things to happen: As a leader, he is egoless, he is able to change his mind if a plan isn’t working and allows people to laugh at him when they need to or when, occasionally, even he can make a disastrous decision. But his faith is always placed in the ideas and morals he believes in and he can find the strength to get behind them and enforce them if necessary without ever making it “about him."

Often, as teacher I find myself thinking, “What would the Doctor do?” And he often leads me in the right direction.

JH

The Big Finish Main Range 1-50: Top 10

I’ve only listened to the first fifty releases from the Big Finish Main Range so far but out of curiosity and to ensure fairness, I decided to list my ‘top ten’ of these releases before comparing them to John’s.

Whilst I managed to quite easily select the best twenty, I then had to spend a good quarter of an hour fully considering the relative merits of each one to be able to pick out the ten best-of-the-best releases before attempting to put them into some sort of order of preference. Having spent the time whittling my list down, I’ve decided just to share with you my final rankings.

Hopefully my selection shows how I like listening to stories that are based upon a variety of themes (historical, space and pure sci-fi), as well as adventures that are both dramatically intense alongside those which have entertaining narratives. Some of them aren’t perfect 5/5 stories, although I’ve opted to include them since I factor in how well I personally enjoyed them and how much of them I can remember in my evaluations of them.

10. Bang-Bang-a-Boom! by Gareth Roberts and Clayton Hickman

The seventh Doctor has arrived on a space station that is hosting the Intergalactic Song Content but people start dying and the murderer must be found. This whole story is a parody of Star Trek and Eurovision and it be extremely fun trying to spot all the references to these two familiar shows as you listen to it. Whilst the story does take a while to get going, there are many funny moments as the Doctor struggles to work out what is going on and the variety of alien lifeforms taking part in the competition make for an interesting, varied set of suspects who each have their own motive.

9. Red Dawn by Justin Richards

This is a classic Ice Warrior story set on planet Mars with some similarities to Tomb of the Cybermen – the fifth Doctor and Peri investigate a strange alien building on the surface but are concerned what is frozen inside blocks of ice guarding the doorways… The opening scene involving a NASA rocket’s launch sequence is absolutely brilliant to hear in stereo sound as the countdown sequence moves into blasting off. Whilst there is a lot of talking, this adds to the characterisation and Hylton Collins’ performance as Sub-Commander Sstast really helps to create a menacing foe the Doctor. The ending proves to be quite an interesting moral dilemma for one of the characters and leads to quite a poignant final scene.

8. The Chimes of Midnight by Robert Shearman

The eighth Doctor and Charley are trapped inside an Edwardian mansion where the servants are getting killed exactly on the chiming of each hour. This is a truly great ghost story and all the characters are extremely creepy, creating a great haunting atmosphere throughout the episodes. The performances of Paul McGann and India Fisher really helped to create a sense of despair and impending doom as the time ticked on.

7. The Spectre ofLanyon Moor by Nicholas Pegg

The sixth Doctor and Evelyn investigate the mysterious happenings in a Cornish landscape dotted with Iron Age fogou structures, with some assistance from the Brigadier. This is a classic Doctor Who adventure with a well-acted team trying to investigate a local folk myth which expectedly turns out to be related to aliens. Every episode is well plotted by developing the level of suspense nicely and the spectre’s appearances are extremely scary as it darts around and cackles. There are many similarities with 70s Who but these just added to create an atmosphere rather than being distractions.

6. Storm Warning by Alan Barnes

Storm Warning was Paul McGann’s first release for Big Finish and sees his doctor on board the airship R-101 as it makes its fateful maiden voyage. Some brilliant performances combined with an excellent sound design make this release seem quite extravagant and a great setting for an historical adventure. The Doctor encounters stowaway Charlotte Pollard, an upper-class Edwardian adventuress, who pairs up with him to help investigate the strange passenger in Cabin 43. She is extremely likeable as a new companion – having an attitude of young naivety whilst still managing to show bravery as the alien involvement becomes apparent and needs preventing. A terrific story overall, with plenty of drama and action alongside some good character scenes too.

5. The Fires of Vulcan by Steve Lyons

The seventh Doctor and Mel arrive in Pompeii a day before the disaster, are split up, become entangled in local politics and must fight to escape in their Tardis before Mount Vesuvius erupts. This looming event acts as a threat throughout the whole story but whilst the Doctor is quite pessimistic about their chances, Mel remains her usual happy and optimistic self and this contradiction really makes the story great to listen to. All of the supporting characters have a clear purpose and help to portray different aspects of Roman society to make the setting seem very authentic, such as a gladiator and a slave. The whole story is a fantastic historical adventure – the tension is believable and the script has a good balance of drama and fun.

4. Doctor Who and the Pirates by Jacqueline Rayner

The whole story can be summed up very well in the synopsis – “All aboard, me hearties, for a rip-roaring tale of adventure on the high seas!” This release definitely achieves all the expectations one might have based upon the title and is conveyed using a very novel framing device – the sixth Doctor and Evelyn are recounting a recent pirate adventure to one of her students but they both have very different methods of telling it – including a whole episode in which the Doctor decides to alleviate the tension with song by turning the whole affair into a musical! There are lots of laughs in this and Colin Baker is clearly loving being very theatrical. Whilst this hilarity is certainly very fun to listen to, the poignant and emotional ending really makes the story feel complete and turns into a truly standout release.

3. Spare Parts by Marc Platt

Spare Parts is usually very highly rated by fans and with good reason – it is the dark telling of how the last citizens of Earth’s twin planet Mondas are so desperate to survive that they will go into ‘surgery’ and give up their emotions to become Cybermen. This tragic idea of humans choosing to convert is very unnerving and proves to be both an incredible yet terrifying origin story for the infamous species. Whilst the fifth Doctor rants about the evil that's about to be unleashed upon the universe, you can really empathise with the Mondasians plight. The cyber conversions are horrible events to listen to and the different characters we meet really make the story seem very personal as they each discuss their desires without realising what they will become as they queue up for processing. It’s a grim tragedy but an utterly compelling story.

2. The Holy Terror by Robert Shearman

This is the true definition of a surreal Doctor Who story and it makes for an absolutely fantastic audio adventure – the sixth Doctor and his penguin shape-shifting companion Frobisher become vital characters in a land where two factions of people are competing for power – religious worshippers and heretics. Whilst this might not seem appealing, from beginning to end, this is actually a perfect adventure which manages to be: dark, funny, gripping and thought-provoking. On the one side, the story is clearly very silly and ridiculous but on the other, it shows how many people do find meaning and purpose in their rituals. The shift in narrative from comedy to heart-wrenching drama is achieved well and along with Robert Jezek’s performance as Frobisher, makes this release an incredible listen.

1. Seasons of Fear by Paul Cornell and Caroline Symcox

This story tops the chart for the simple reason that it includes every element that makes Doctor Who such an entertaining yet dramatic series. In it, the eighth Doctor and Charley find themselves jumping between different time periods on a quest to find out who the mysterious, immortal Sebastian Grayle is – a man claiming to have killed the Doctor in the future! This release is epic in its storytelling as our characters navigate around history in search of clues, leading to a fast-paced story with plenty of action and twists along the way. Grayle is a great villain who has a good backstory, and the returning monsters prove to be a real treat. Seasons of Fear is just wonderful to listen to: it’s fun and exciting, as well as being extremely well acted with lots of witty moments included too. A classic Who adventure that everybody should hear.

I hope these short story outlines and reviews help to inspire you into making some Big Finish purchases, and if you’ve not yet listened to audio Who before, give you some idea of how brilliant it can be.

SH