Delta and the Bannermen AudiobookBookmark and Share

Thursday, 11 January 2018 - Reviewed by Dustin Pinney
Delta and the Bannermen (Credit: BBC Audio)
Delta and the Bannermen
Written by Malcolm Kohll
Read by Bonnie Langford

Relased by BBC Audio June 2017

As a televised serial, Delta and the Bannermen could have been a hilarious, delightful, Douglas Adams-esque romp with a dark side. Many of the elements are there. Completely alien beings transforming themselves into humanoids in order to visit Disneyland in the 1950s as part of a “Nostalgia Tour”, everyday people trying their best to work according to procedure in the face of utter strangeness, and intergalactic war taking place at a holiday camp in Wales. Unfortunately, it’s an uneven, overly violent, tonal mess, with delusions of depth.

As a novel, Delta and the Bannermen could have been an edgy sci-fi epic with fleshed out characters, deeply detailed mythology, real character motivations, high stakes, and humor. Where else but a novel would it be possible to explore Chimeron culture,  craft a romance between Delta and Billy that feels genuine, or uncover the psychology of why an assassin on vacation just can’t help but make a kill (there has to be more than his enjoyment of it)? Instead the novel adds very little to what was already an unbalanced story.

As an audiobook, Delta and the Bannermen has fun music, an effective soundtrack, and Bonnie Langford’s narration can be a delight when she’s really giving it her all and having a blast. However the weak story holds the entire production back. It is simply too difficult to separate the story from the audiobook to enjoy all the work that went into recording this otherwise pretty impressive audiobook.   

The setting of Delta and the Bannermen requires a soundtrack rich with popular music of the time. Characters openly reference songs like “Rock Around The Clock” and “Why Do Fools Fall In Love.” It would be hard to imagine the story without a few needle drops of those vintage hits. Somehow the producers were able to concoct generic, certainly royalty free, Rock & Roll tracks sufficient enough to capture that particular musical shade of the correct pop cultural tapestry.    

Not to say the music is all perfect. Perhaps the most entertaining piece of the score is what appears to be the main theme. A sweeping, swashbuckling suite that may have been more at home in a pirate story, but is equally thrilling here.

Telling a story about about genocide across the stars, especially when the antagonist is as murder-happy as Gavrok, gunfire and explosions are crucial. At no point does the artillery become a wall of pounding sound overpowering the music or narration. Every auditory element is layered to compliment each other, resulting in a sense of immersion.  

Of course the natural standout is Bonnie Langford as the storyteller. She is tasked with performing a variety of accents for more characters than necessary, and she does so superbly. While Mel may not be everyone’s favorite companion, Bonnie Langford is a first class talent, and she shines throughout the entirety of this book.  

Delta and the Bannermen, regardless of the form it takes, is a story with a lot of promise that never reaches its full potential. At least this version has a narrator who seems to be enjoying themself.


Class Series One - Episode 8 - The LostBookmark and Share

Saturday, 3 December 2016 - Reviewed by Matt Hills
Class - Ep8 - The Lost - Miss Quill (KATHERINE KELLY), Charlie (GREG AUSTIN) (Credit: BBC/Simon Ridgeway)Starring Katherine Kelly, Sophie Hopkins, Greg Austin, Fady Elsayed, Vivian Oparah, Jordan Renzo and Pooky Quesnel 

Writer and Creator: Patrick Ness
Director: Julian Holmes, Producer: Derek Ritchie 
Executive Producers: Brian Minchin, Patrick Ness and Steven Moffat 
Released Online (BBC Three) - Saturday 3rd December 2016

This review contains spoilers.


From its pre-credits sequence to its closing twist, this is an episode punctuated by moments of shock and character trauma. And by focusing once again on the Shadow Kin and the Cabinet, as well as revealing more about the Governors of Coal Hill Academy, it feels very much as if series one of Class has really been a single coherent story, a fantastic school serial, rather than a set of distinct adventures loosely connected by running threads. The story arc muscles its way to a kind of resolution, making me wonder whether any possible series two would need to focus on a largely different group of lead characters, somewhat in the spirit of Skins or other 'anthology' shows.


To begin with, though, what to make of that ending? I can't help but feel it'll prove contentious in some quarters, if not divisive. For me, it was reminiscent of the last-gasp development in Torchwood: Miracle Day, where a central character is similarly, and just as suddenly, gifted with a whole new way of being, and the show's format is irrevocably and instantaneously reconfigured. Could April feature as a lead character in her new guise? Perhaps so, but Class would never be quite the same. This concluding development feels like a gimmick of sorts: a provocation to get audiences talking and thinking about the connections between heroes and their shadows. In its world-changing potency, however, it also feels like a sign-off of sorts, as if April's new incarnation is being handed over to fan fiction writers, fresh for new extrapolations and re-imaginings.  


Class has featured many excellent actors, and the cameo appearance from Cyril Nri as the Chair of Governors is excellent. Urbane and creepy in equal measure, it left me wishing that we'd seen a lot more of his character. And the slogan 'Ever Upward Reach' has a crazed zeal that partly implies striving for academic excellence but also satirises the entire Academy system. It's just one note in the composition of Class, but it rings out nevertheless. The Governors' reveal contains another of this episode's shock moments, of course, as we witness the "benefactors" who have been spurring on their calcuations and activities. In another day and age this might have featured the Daleks, but their involvement calls for negotiations over rights, whereas the Doctor Who monsters featured here have a far more convenient ownership. Cementing Class as part of the Steven Moffat era, to find that the Weeping Angels have been at the heart of this tale all along is intriguing to say the least. And the "Arrival", which seems to gesture at a gigantic Angel towering over London's skyline of Shard and Gherkin, would certainly make for a strong series two story arc. Class has never felt overly reliant on Who for its identity, and book-ending series one with strong call-backs to the 'parent' show both feels right, in terms of making episodes one and eight 'event' instalments, and not at all excessive. 


Patrick Ness certainly likes to put his characters through the emotional wringer, and 'The Lost' is of a piece with 'Detained' in that respect. What seems like a peaceful character moment kicking off the story with Ram and Varun rapidly takes a devastating turn, with Tanya likewise suffering at the hands of the Shadow Kin. Fady Elsayed perhaps pitches his character's reaction at a higher emotional temperature than others, but it's an understandable response (for both the actor and the character), and helps to drive the key question of the story: will the Cabinet be used? Although my favourite character, Quill, has a little less to do than usual - hardly surprising given that this follows a Quill-focused episode - she does contribute to a gloriously eccentric sequence that encapsulates the Whoniverse's mash-up of prosaic and heightened realities, as the Cabinet, a genocidal weapon of massive destruction, is wheeled into school in a less-than-stylish shopping trolley. Pure class. And Quill experiences a moment of uneasy maternal tenderness as she unsuccessfully resists comforting Tanya. It's a character beat that Katherine Kelly has some fun with.        


Credit should also go to Blair Mowat for some outstanding synth tones swirling amid this episode's impressive incidental music. It helps sell the drama, and resonates with the importance that Class has given to music through April's hobby which, as with 'Nightvisiting', is again punched up in the mix by linking into the episode title. It's fortunate that April always alights on such thematically useful songs, but it's also an economical way of fusing character, show, and soundtrack into one coherent entity.


Class has whizzed by: surely the mark of a highly successful series. On the whole, its characters have gelled well, and its multi-generational focus has felt organic rather than forced, with its inclusive ethos carrying a passionate energy. Having said that, mocking media studies in episode one didn't seem at all in keeping with the character of the Doctor (who would surely want the media to be studied and criticised), nor with the show's overall tone, and there have been occasional weaknesses (for me, the Shadow Kin's realisation). But 'The Lost' shows off Class for all its strengths, conveying an emotional intensity and a continual questioning of whether self and other - antagonist and protagonist - can be neatly separated out. And in this sense, the final plot twist is perhaps less of a gimmick than it may at first seem. It is, after all, the logical culmination of April's connection with Corakinus, and it illustrates in one attention-grabbing incongruity what lies at the heart of Patrick Ness's vision. Heroes and villains, humans and monsters, don't belong in two distinct categories or classes, despite the fact that this is often the default setting for popular storytelling. Ambivalent, self-divided, for good and ill, may be we are all in one class.            

Class Series One - Episode 6 - DetainedBookmark and Share

Saturday, 19 November 2016 - Reviewed by Martin Hudecek
Class - Ep6 - Detained - Matteusz (JORDAN RENZO), Tanya (VIVIAN OPARAH), Charlie (GREG AUSTIN), April (SOPHIE HOPKINS) (Credit: BBC/Simon Ridgeway)
Starring: Katherine Kelly, Sophie Hopkins, Greg Austin,
Fady Elsayed, Vivian Oparah, Jordan Renzo with Ferdy Roberts

Writer: Patrick Ness
Director: Wayne Yip
Producer: Derek Ritchie 
Executive Producers: Brian Minchin,
Patrick Ness, and Steven Moffat  
Released Online (BBC Three)  - 19th November 2016

This review contains spoilers.

Its another conundrum to unravel for our gang of do-gooders, having been abandoned to unsupervised detention by Miss Quill. This is no normal punishment, however, as they have been cast outside space and time itself, thanks to the rift.  Remaining trapped in one room, they all feel mounting alarm. The view outside the door and windows is a blank void.

At first they wonder if a mysterious segment of an asteroid could be the means to their escape. It turns out the rocky entity forces their deepest, most heartfelt feeling to the surface, as one by one they clutch it in their palms.

Truth and honesty unchecked can be damaging, and so it proves as the ties of friendship are strained to their very limit. Relationships come under heavy, unexpected scrutiny, for respectively Charlie and Matteusz, and April and Ram. Tanya also is taken on a difficult emotional path in terms of her insecurities over being the youngest of the group.

It eventually becomes clear that someone must take a stance, even if the ultimate sacrifice is the only pathway. Otherwise, this group of five could be reduced to just the one lone survivor..


The premise of a bottle episode has been done many times before in television. In Buffy, one particular episode involved the main characters forgetting who they were, but once they regained their memories, their relations were drastically altered. This story somewhat echoes that plotline, and does similar work in germinating the seeds laid out in prior stories. Enough craftsmanship by the writing, acting and production teams is involved, however, to make this tale feel like it is both relevant to today, and to be heartfelt in the emotional journeys presented.

One noticeable difference between Detained, and all preceding Season One efforts, is that effectively the core narrative is told in real time. Charlie describes the ordeal they go through as lasting "forty-five minutes". But in that time, a lot of things a considerable sea-change has occurred in the relations they have with each other.

This proves that sometimes sound, fury, and visual effects are not always needed for making a drama show work. Believable and fleshed-out characters will always be vital for any discerning viewer. It is also a neat conceit that the enemy in this story was the ruthless survivor of a group of five, and at one point it appears the same outcome will play out with our lead characters. The series may have had some moments of tonal confusion - particularly in Nightvisiting - but it is very good at bringing across themes, and parallels between different characters and/or groups.

Mystery is often one of the best methods to make a work of fiction gripping. Patrick Ness certainly gets the balance right between exposition and speculation, as the quintet are able to piece together enough to clarify how and why events are unfolding. We never get the full details of why this is all happening. The enigmatic prisoner's original appearance, where he came from, and just what motivation and method applied to the many murders he committed; all this remains open to our imagination.

It turns out that the Prince of Rhodia is anything but an angel, despite his mild manners and awkwardness that on the surface. His willingness to kill all civilisation on Earth, and that only his romance with Matteusz holds him back, is rather alarming. One wonders if Quill is actually the most immoral one after all. Of course Charlie's Polish boyfriend is able to reassure him repeatedly, and this helps the group overcome their predicament. Some damage is done to their relationship in the short term with the 'confessions', but perhaps it will bode well in the long run.  

We also witness Ram's deep feelings for April, but how he senses she does not quite return those feelings on the same level. She has perhaps every reason to be cautious about a man in her life getting close to her and being trustworthy, given the way she and her mother suffered (and continued to suffer) through Hew's actions years ago. Indeed, some exposition over the horrific incident to befall her family features when April clutches the meteor.

I know I was not alone in finding the competitive footballer's match-up with the thoughtful violist something that came out of left field. Certainly their moment of physical intimacy in Episode Four was one of the lowlights of the show, and further made ludicrous by the juxtaposition with the Shadow Kin. There never was proper discussion of how Ram was able to move on from losing Rachel, who died in such a manner that she could not even be allowed a proper burial.

Fortunately this episode manages to make the romance feel engaging, and the performances of both Sophie Hopkins and Fady Elsayed continue to feel authentic. I appreciated how April and Ram have different attitudes to the past, present and future, and how that defines their chances of staying together. They also are responding rather differently to not being - in biological terms - fully human anymore. The viewer really is made to care that their union needs considerable work from both parties.

All of the regular main cast continue to impress. Certainly with Ness' best script thus far there is little room for anyone to have a bad day's work. But perhaps the most notable performance comes from Jordan Renzo as Matteusz. I had been slightly indifferent about the character, and indeed he had barely featured in the early episodes. Here though he has enough screen time to fully establish himself as likeable and engaging. Although for much of the plot it may appear Charlie is the least angry, it actually transpires that it is his lover who has more control in the pressure-cooker situation. Renzo shows a good range and seems to thrive on the stage like confines of the one room here, so hopefully the dynamism can be followed through in other stories as well.

A lot of good drama thrives on not taking itself stone cold seriously, and having undercurrents of humour, or even absurdity. This episode shows poise in achieving this delicate contrast. One highlight involves April moving the situation along by announcing she is going to pick up the prisoner/meteor, but undercuts it by asking if anyone will "stop" her, accompanied by a comical look on her face.

Another fine moment of levity: Charlie's limitations in coming across as an actual human teenager- through being transplanted into 21st century Earth by the Twelfth Doctor - are exposed when he does not realise that 'Narnia' is a fictional realm, and quickly guesses it is somewhere in Canada. There is also of course the subtext that they have been transported to another dimension, and time has progressed back on Earth in notably different pace to their own in the void.

A few minor issues hold Detained back from being a true masterpiece. The voice for the alien prisoner is serviceable in and of itself, but is just a touch too similar to how the Shadow Kin sounded. The decision to have the classroom lights flicker and the group cower under desks makes sense within the context of the storyline, but is one of the few moments that fails to really resonate as imaginative or notable.

Also, perhaps an opportunity was missed to have some more screen time for Quill when any given person who held the stone could be made to imagine her presence, relating to the influence she has had. Katherine Kelly is really impressing me, and reminds me of Michelle Gomez in being a villainess that can inspire some sympathy. 

Some profanity - but by no means the strongest kind - features in dialogue for both April and Ram. However, it manages to still feel within context. Tanya at one point utters "airbag" as an insult, which cast my mind back to Sophie Aldred's brave attempts with Ace's more emotional dialogue, in the Seventh Doctor era.

But overall this instalment sees the series raise the bar, and iron out some flaws in earlier episodes. It boasts some skilful and dynamic direction from Wayne Yip, that lives up to the sterling work of the other directors involved in Class. Enough groundwork has been done for the final pair of stories to make this particular school term end strongly. Certainly that cliffhanger with Quill 'unshackled' will make me rush to my BBC I-Player connection in double-quick time.

The episode's confidence and effectiveness is such that it deserves to be a companion piece to the 2008 classic Midnight, and thus help justify once again the amazing scope that there is in the extended Doctor Who universe. 

Class Season One - Episode 5 - Brave-ish HeartBookmark and Share

Saturday, 12 November 2016 - Reviewed by Matt Hills
Class - Ep5 - Brave-ish Heart - Miss Quill (KATHERINE KELLY), Dorothea (POOKY QUESNEL), Charlie (GREG AUSTIN), Matteusz (JORDAN RENZO) (Credit: BBC/Simon Ridgeway)
Starring: Sophie Hopkins, Greg Austin, Fady Elsayed, Vivian Oparah and Katherine Kelly. 
Written By: Patrick Ness
Directed By: Philippa Langdale
Released Online (BBC Three) - Saturday 12th November 2016

This review contains spoilers


As befits the first two-part story in Class, there's certainly an epic scope to this tale. The threat of genocide hangs over proceedings, with all of humanity about to fall prey to a bloom of exponentially amassing petals... unless this floral invader can be completely wiped out instead. At the same time, April and Ram are on a mission to defeat the King of the Shadow Kin. Either storyline would be compelling by itself, and in many other series the build up of petals would probably be enough to carry the main plot, but Patrick Ness ups the ante by cleverly intercutting between these two story strands before finally integrating them. 'Brave-ish Heart' also shows a spirit of parental inclusion by having Huw and Varun cross over into Corakinus's world as well as April and Ram. Consequently, it isn't just the teenagers who are taken out of ordinary Shoreditch life, as the wonder of the fiery 'Underneath' (perhaps unintentionally resonating with Stranger Things' 'Upside Down' realm) incorporates a cross-generational presence. Elsewhere, this episode feels insistently marked by Ness's ethos of inclusivity - for example, at a vital moment Matteusz proves crucial to events instead of somehow being placed as a supporting character (and he's given a sharp, smart line about his Polish identity too). And despite an escalating narrative threat, the show's creator-writer also finds time to sketch in more of Ram's cultural background, but without making an issue of it.


There is much to marvel at, even if there are occasional mis-steps. Personally, I didn't believe that Huw would simply wander off at the end, readily accepting April's wishes: this felt more like a character being made to do what the writer wanted to telegraph as the right thing. And for me there was also a tension between the dialogue given to April's mum at the episode's conclusion and the logic of storytelling; what we're shown here doesn't seem to entirely fit with the expressed sentiment that there was nothing "lesser" about her previous way of life. But Patrick Ness is highly alert to the pitfalls and problems of representation, and is actively trying to counter particular ways of responding to this storyline. Class is keen to impart its lessons without being misunderstood.


Dorothea, played with sinister precision by the always excellent Pooky Quesnel, tells us that the multiplying petals can't be destroyed by conventional means - hence the need for the Cabinet. Yet at one point we witness a smattering of petals on a car windscreen being squished like bugs. This visual image is a striking one, especially as blood squirts out, but it doesn't quite make sense in relation to the petals' alleged indestructibility. As their massed ranks grew and grew, I couldn't help but be reminded of Star Trek's infamous Tribbles, even if they were animal rather than vegetal.


Class - Ep5 - Brave-ish Heart - April (SOPHIE HOPKINS), Ram (FADY ELSAYED) (Credit: BBC/Simon Ridgeway)

Where the petals offer an offbeat, skewed threat, the Shadow Kin sometimes feel more akin to a generic fantasy race. Their realm is effectively represented, though I should note that the BBC's episode preview marked some of these sequences as "work in progress", so final heat haze effects and so on were probably still to be added. But the Shadow Kin really come alive in the moments where their portentous fantasy selves are undercut by a more everyday depiction - we hear a grumble of "teenagers!" when April and Ram's romantic interlude is interrupted, for instance. Too much of this comedic undermining would, of course, undo the Shadow Kin's 'warrior race' designation, but it adds tone and colour to what can otherwise feel like a programmatic image of villainy.


The previously alluded to "Governors" start to take on a greater role this week, and I wonder if we might actually encounter their collective before (or during) episode eight. As Coal Hill Academy has been taken over by a suitably shifty organisation, presumably one I. Chesterton is no longer involved. But the gradual emergence of this shadowy group presents Quill with a new set of possibilities, and Katherine Kelly again makes the most of her character's enforced ambivalence and caustic attitude. Mind you, the ethical weight of genocide isn't explored as much as I'd expected it to be, becoming more of a story calculus or an equation to be solved - who will commit genocide against who? - rather than an unsquarable circle or a morally impossible act. While Charlie anguishes over his Princely duty, however, Matteusz sees the situation rather more clearly, and even adopts one of the Doctor's key tenets.


'Brave-ish Heart' is a busy episode, always bristling with dramatic action and character moments. Tanya's impassioned defence of April and Ram is one such delightful instant, as is Ram's hilariously strained attempt to sound laddish. Setting in motion what promises to be a powerful story arc for Quill while revisiting Charlie and April's defining dilemmas from the opening episode, Class continues to more than make the grade.             

Class Season One - Episode 4 - Co-Owner of a Lonely HeartBookmark and Share

Saturday, 5 November 2016 - Reviewed by Matt Tiley

Class - Ep4 - Co-Owner Of A Lonely Heart - April (SOPHIE HOPKINS) (Credit: BBC/Simon Ridgeway)
Starring: Sophie Hopkins,Greg Austin, Fady Elsayed, 
Vivian Oparah, and Katherine Kelly. 
Written By: Patrick Ness
Directed By: Phillippa Langdale
Released Online (BBC Three)  - 5th November 2016

This review contains spoilers.


As soon as the 'Previously...' montage starts, I could tell straight off the bat, that this, the fourth of eight episodes of the new BBC3 drama would have heavy links to the first instalment, glossing over what happened in the last two episodes quickly, and concentrating on a recap of episode one. Sure enough, as the episode itself starts, we open on the Shadow Kin's home world, where we find their leader desperately using any way that he can to claim the heart that he now shares with April for himself. 

Back on Earth, as a result of the Shadow Kin's desperation we discover that the link between the Shadow Kin leader and April to be getting stronger and stronger. It is first noticed when she heals quickly after cutting herself. Unfortunately from there, things rapidly escalate, with the link between the two of them actually starts manifesting swords into April's hands when she is angry, something that isn't at all helped by April having an increasingly shorter fuse as the Shadow Kin manage to get an anchor on the heart. As every minute of the episode passes, the link between the two gets stronger and stronger. None of this  is aided by the reappearance of April's father, Huw (played by Happy Valley's Con O'Neil)  who has just been released from prison and is desperate to make amends with April and her mother for any harm that he had previously done.

Elsewhere in the episode, we find out a lot more about the mysterious box that is in Charlie's bedroom. We also get a better insight into Charlie and Quill's 'arrangement'. And there is a sinister and well informed new head teacher at Coal Hill Academy, who makes Quill an offer that she really might not be able to refuse. Oh - I nearly forgot to mention, we also have the small problem of some viciously carnivorous, and rapidly self-replicating blossom that has a very nasty bite. The blossom has somehow found its way through the rift and has started feasting on squirrels and birds.....

The theme of the episode seems to centre itself around one of duty. Be it the duty of a Prince to his people - as Charlie ponders the fate of the population of his home world or the duty of a father and husband, desperately trying to reach out to a family that he has damaged beyond repair. We also have the duty of a protective Mother, plus - as Ram and April's relationship steps up a gear, the duty of a lover.

As we have come to expect, there is a lot of humour in the story, especially when the link between April and the leader of the Shadow Kin starts to work the other way during a rather passionate moment ("I don't suppose.......we could have a moment of cuddling?"). We also have more humour thanks to the wonderfully dysfunctional relationship of Charlie and Quill, as they wrestle with the thought of going to Coal Hill's parent's evening together. 

The cast are growing on me, this story has Ram and April front and centre, while the focus of last week's story, Tanya takes a bit of a back seat.The Shadow Kin as a race fair a lot better here than in episode one, where I must admit that I wasn't that impressed with them. They seemed quite a generic villain, but here on their sizzling home world, spewing boiling anger and desperation, they come across as a real threat.

Now, lets not forget the introduction of that killer blossom, which is a great move, and which elevates the episode above just having the Shadow Kin as the main threat, the blossom is a slow building threat that is at first ignored, and then only really addressed when it could well be too late.

Before closing off this review, I feel that I must mention the special effects, as they are very special. I loved the way that the home world of the Shadow Kin was depicted, it's as if their scenes were shot in the very heart of a volcano, all floating embers and shimmering heat, it was very atmospheric, and made those scenes feel very alien. But lets not forget that it is also about the more subtle effects. The scene that opens on Earth is truly beautiful, and something that has obviously been inspired by the feather at the beginning of Forrest Gump. We follow a single, innocent looking blossom floating slowly through the scene, and eventually down to the ground.

Co-owner of a Lonely Heart is very enjoyable episode, and is unique in the series so far in that it is not only a direct sequel to the very first instalment, but in true, old fashioned Doctor Who tradition, it ends on a cracker of a cliff-hanger that leaves at least two or three very important plot threads dangling.

Class Season One - Episode 3 - NightvisitingBookmark and Share

Saturday, 29 October 2016 - Reviewed by Matt Hills
Class - Series 1 (Credit: BBC/Todd Antony)

Starring: Greg Austin, Fady Elsayed, Sophie Hopkins, Vivian Oparah, Jordan Renzo and Katherine Kelly, with Kobna Holdbrook-Smith and Anastasia Hille.

Written By: Patrick Ness, Directed By: Edward Bazalgette
Released Online (BBC Three) - Saturday 29th October 2016

This review contains spoilers


After last week's launch episodes, not to mention an audience-grabbing deployment of Peter Capaldi, this is where Class might start to settle down into its own spin-off rhythms and Academy routines. But 'Nightvisiting' avoids a number of telefantasy pitfalls; for one thing, the lead characters are not instantaneously bonded together as an alien-fighting team. And even if this scenario begins to solidify across the episode, Class still has its trump card of Miss Quill - a perpetual outsider played with insistent relish by Katherine Kelly - to disrupt any easy sense of teambuilding. For another thing, this story avoids focusing on a 'character of the week', despite seeming at first as if it may belong to Tanya in the same way that 'Coach with the Dragon Tattoo' made Ram its central figure. Instead, both Quill and Tanya are forced to confront powerful memories.


We open with what amounts to a pop-video-style montage, a four-minute warning of what Tanya has lost from her life, as we see key moments in her relationship with her Dad before flashing forward to his sudden death, and then to the second anniversary of their family's loss. As a pre-credits sequence this really packs a punch; Patrick Ness is right to emphasise all these happy family events so as to really underscore and stress Tanya's grief, and her desire to believe that her Dad may have returned. It feels somewhat akin to the most unusual episode of Russell T. Davies's Cucumber, albeit boiled down to a single sequence and given a fantastical edge.


Of course, the 'nightvisiting' idea that's explored in this episode has a long and venerable history in both folklore and genre fiction, but even so the folk motif drawn on via April's hobby gives things a fresh new dimension. Even more impressive, though, are the visuals, where this week's alien presence has a Krynoid-like or Zygon-like organic feel, combined with an 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' pod-people vibe. The monstrous aspects of 'Nightvisiting' are handled expertly via Ed Bazalgette's direction, especially when Tanya's Dad, Jasper, is framed at the extreme right-hand edge of the screen in order to mask the unpleasant reality of exactly what's feeding into his shocking appearance. All the trunk and tendril imagery is also utilised very well in outside scenes of alien invasion, making this a highly unusual and distinctive alien attack in relation to the Whoniverse's norms.


Although it could be suggested that this is an even more character-driven and emotional story than what's come before in Class, it balances character development and its action storyline very effectively. There's also space for a number of subplots to occupy the ensemble cast, as Matteusz takes on a larger role after his displacement from episode 2, allowing his budding relationship with Charlie to be touchingly explored, as well as Ram and April's friendship deepening, perhaps into something new. One aspect of the show's format -- that Miss Quill can only defend her charge rather than proactively fighting -- looks as though it may be in danger of becoming repetitive and limiting rather quickly, though. It is only referenced briefly here, but for such a compelling character to be so restricted seems narratively awkward at best. It's a neat device for making a conflicted "freedom fighter" a more Doctor-ish presence, having to rely on ingenuity and intellect rather than resorting to violence, but thus far in the series it seems just to have inhibited Quill. I hope that Ness can find creative ways to vary, qualify and bend the rules he's set for himself in future adventures.


There is some limited tension as we ponder whether beloved relatives may have been restored to those suffering bereavement and loss. Given the genres that Class is registered within, however, there's no real doubt or hesitation over where the story is headed (and likewise, the visual reveals rather quickly indicate a less than pleasant alien force at work). But with so much else going on in the episode, this is less of a weakness than may otherwise be supposed, and the real tension lies in whether Miss Quill or Tanya will give into temptation.


After three episodes, and being almost half way through series one already, it's interesting to ponder what makes this a "YA" rendering of the Doctor Who template. Yes, the lead characters are mostly of school age; yes, relationships and sexuality are a major part of the mix; yes, there's more gore and telefantasy horror than the parent show and its family-friendly prohibitions can muster. Having said that, "YA" may itself be difficult to pin down, and Class makes a strong case for not really worrying about such definitions, along with ignoring the TV industry's preoccupation with audience demographics. The persuasiveness of Patrick Ness's vision of Coal Hill Academy is that its persistent probings of loss carry an emotional realism that easily transcends age categories. Such loss also afflicts human and non-human characters alike: there's no superheroic position outside the sadnesses that make life worth living, and even the Doctor can't always be there to help. There is a basic, underlying melancholy to Class that is more than merely adult or grown-up. This is television where emotional realism and emotional intelligence intertwine in its very roots and branches. Roll on next week, then, and an episode that looks set to revisit and expand upon another core part of the mythology that Patrick Ness is wholeheartedly, sensitively unfolding.