Love & Monsters

Watching "Love and Monsters" counts as possibly the best forty-five minutes spent in front of a television for many years. I would sincerely rate this as one of the freshest, finest, funniest and most gloriously life-enhancing episodes of Doctor Who that has ever been screened.

There is little point in discussing the details of "Love and Monsters". There are plenty of other sources and reviews dedicated to discussing the script, plot, dialogue, acting, effects and production : all of which were from the top drawer.

For this is really not a review of the story per se, but a meta-review, a consideration of fans' reactions to the story as evinced by the polarised opinions expressed on Outpost Gallifrey and elsewhere. I think it important that Doctor Who fans pause for reflection and consider the impact of "Love and Monsters". For it crystallises Russell T. Davies' effect on the programme and epitomises his vision. This is the show that forces us to nail our colours to the mast and declare whether we are Who-radicals or Who- conservatives.

The presence of so many negative reviews for "Love and Monsters" reveals, as if it needed any revelation, that many Doctor Who fans are deeply conservative. That is to be expected : fandom is composed of people who love something, and what they love they seek to protect from change lest it become something they love less, or not at all.

But I think this conservative reaction to "Love and Monsters" is not only undeserved and unnecessary, it is poison to the show they love.

The negative reaction of the conservatives is undeserved because this was an excellent story. It had pace, rhythm (and blues), humour, terrific lines, character, heart and soul. In Peter Kay's Absorbaloff it had an alien somewhat in the mould of Nabil Shaban's Sil from Vengeance on Varos, and superbly realised. Some of the pure CGI creatures we have seen in earlier episodes of Series Two (especially the werewolf from "Tooth and Claw" and the Krillitanes from "School Reunion") lack any real presence for the simple reason that they have none – they are added on afterwards, and it shows; they simply do not interact with the sets or cast in a truly convincing way. The Absorbaloff is a brilliant creation, galaxies away from previous generations of latex aliens, and one which has a tremendous, tactile vitality.

Moreover, this story most emphatically was echt-Doctor Who. In fact, in its closing revelations it speaks more about the Doctor and what he stands for and does than many more ordinary stories. Anyone with a knowledge of Classic Who knows there are plenty of occasions where the Doctor's behaviour seems distinctly at odds with what we think it should be; the way in which he seems just a little too keen to dispatch the bad guys, a few touches of callousness, or sometimes a seeming acceptance of what should be unacceptable situations. Tennant may have been on screen for only a few brief moments, but those scenes perfectly articulated the Doctor's mission, his essence.

That this story is regarded as radical or experimental is itself an indictment of the limited imaginations and timidity of many Who fans. For in reality, it is barely either of those things. It is less experimental in many regards than Ghost Light, and vastly more entertaining and well-written that that travesty of a story – a story which did not so much hammer the nails into the programme's coffin as suck them in from inside the casket.

What exactly did the Who-conservatives think that writers meant when they said that the best thing about Doctor Who was the flexibility it offered them, the fact that any story could be told in any way? Apparently it meant any story and any way as long as it started with the Tardis materialising and featured the Doctor in most scenes. Pour me some more Mogadon; I have a hundred and fifty stories on video and DVD like that.

Why is it so outrageous to the Who-conservatives that this story hardly features the Doctor and Rose? How can any thinking fan think that this means it is "not proper Who"? Have you never read a book or seen a film which occasionally switches viewpoint or voice, even for a single chapter or scene? Have you never wondered what impact the Doctor must have on a planet he dedicates so much of his time to saving? Are we forbidden from seeing the ripples he makes in the lives of those he meets? Can we not be spared 45 minutes in which to see these things? Russell T. Davies is absolutely right to lift the drab veil which has hitherto prevented us from bearing witness to those whose lives have been touched by one of the most extraordinary creatures in the universe.

Of course, it's not just the almost Doctor-less nature of the show which has the conservatives howling. The show has music! And humour! Worst still, a joke, possibly referring to oral sex! And we know that these things are anathema to the po- faced, sexless conservatives. They didn't like the Slitheen's flatulence. They don't do the kissing. Captain Jack's sexual ambiguity is not something they care to ponder. For their vision of Doctor Who is an arid, dusty one; a show of lofty concepts and portentous moments – "Have I the right?"- to be contemplated with Time Lord-like disdain. Heaven forbid that the programme should actually be entertaining, should appeal to the non-fan, should dare to rise above the ankle-high limits required of it by fandom.

Restrict quality writers with the conditions required by the conservatives, and I'll tell you what you'll get : three more series of corridor athletics. Except you won't get three series, you'll get none, because the audiences would drop Doctor Who like an osmium anvil.

"Love and Monsters" was the embodiment of ideas expressed in this season's stories "School Reunion" and "Age of Steel" : the necessity of change and the utter failure which will result from attempting to keep things static and under control. And this maxim applies as much to the show itself as to the characters and events portrayed within it.

Were the Doctor real, he would adore "Love and Monsters". He would revel in its energy and humour, its "radical" nature, its portrayal of real people, and he would run screaming from the conservative's vision of the programme – no sex, no fun, no change and nothing tasting of human beings behaving in a believable manner.

So I rebut those reviewers who have used the "worst ever" gag from "The Simpsons"; and I do so partly because it is very nearly true, and partly to provoke and stimulate the debate. Inevitably, then : "Love and Monsters"…best episode ever?