The Long Game

An icy interior, a Giger-esque monster, a melting enemy, and the departure of a companion: if 'The Long Game' felt like a 21st century version of Dragonfire - complete with dodgy slang and canteen scene, but without the Shirley Temple kid - then, for me, that was no bad thing. In many ways, this was the most 'science fictiony' of the new series to date, with the cyberpunk elements in the 'living computer' scenes suggesting that Russell, like Cartmel before him, knows his Cronenberg and William Gibson.

This also felt more like 'Doctor Who' than we've come to know it lately. The decision to let Rose and the Doctor take more of a back seat than usual allowed the supporting cast to come to the fore, among whom were some familiar Whovian archetypes: the boy genius, the freedom fighter and the slick-tongued villain sneering at the Doctor's 'Time Lord' pedigree. Unusually, given that this was a Russell T. Davies script, the story didn't sacrifice suspense to pace; there were several jump-out-of-your-seat shocks, and at least one genuine moment of peril, as Adam writhed in cybernetic agony, forced to sacrifice his knowledge of the Doctor at who knew what personal cost?

From interviews with the production team, beforehand, you'd have thought that they were working a little too hard to convince us of the appropriateness of Simon Pegg's performance. But, in the event, there was nothing to complain about: Pegg brought to the part an estuary twang and gutter carnality, befitting a symbol of the worst excesses of Wapping 'journalism'.

Less successful, however, was the characterisation of the Doctor. Magnanimous on a universal sacale, but capable of pettiness, petulance and possessiveness on a personal one, particularly where Rose's boyriends are concerned, too often the Doctor comes across like a surly political activist, who has pulled the prettiest girl on the housing estate and isn't allowing anyone else to get a look in. I'm not particularly sure that this is a Doctor I like, still less one I would ever want to travel with; and this in itself marks a significant change in the way I respond to the series. Even in the days of Colin Baker would-be-strangling his companion, there was something reassuring about the figure of the Doctor, smiling out at me from the title sequence and commanding every narrative by sheer force of character. In the final scene, here, however, as Adam's punishment far exceeds his crime, the Doctor seems motivated as much by sexual jealousy as moral outrage. Adam is condemned to a life of mediocrity with an alien technology in his head, and the Doctor's response is callously to finger-click. Worse still, Rose temporarily loses her trademark empathy, siding with the Doctor, as the script plays Adam's predicament purely for laughs. Russell has hinted that a future story will see the revelation as to who installed the Jagrafess and why. The sequel I want to see, however, is the one involving Adam. Adam's fate hereon seems either melancholy, madness or medical curiosity, and if he were to return at a later date to take his revenge on the Doctor, I, for one, wouldn't blame him. Here's hoping Bruno Langley is in it for the long game yet.