Or 'What I Did When I Ran Out of Original Ideas, by Steven Moffatt', as he recycles chunks of the plot from his short story 'What I Did On My Christmas Holidays by Sally Sparrow' from the Doctor Who Annual 2006. Given that this comes straight after an adaptation of 'Human Nature', it does rather suggest that the writing team is scrabbling around for ideas.

Nevertheless, sarcasm aside, 'Blink' is rather good. Unusually for the Welsh revival, it actually makes time travel an integral part of the plot rather than simply using it as a means of transporting the Doctor from story to story. The internal logic of the plot works rather well, with Moffat playing with paradoxes whilst avoiding leaving any unanswered questions, although there is a feeling that this is all intended to impress casual viewers who might think it's more complicated and cleverer than it actually is. The highlight of all this is the DVD Easter Eggs scene, as the Doctor uses a copy of the transcript that Lawrence is writing to have a conversation across time, which is very well scripted. In fact, the whole script is very polished, with some good dialogue, such as Lawrence learning that what the seventeen DVDs with the Easter Eggs on have in common is the fact that they are all the DVDs that Sally owns, prompting the incredulous response, "You've only got seventeen DVDs?" The Doctor's line about having to deal with "four things? and a lizard" is also quite funny. And Billy Shipton's comment that the windows of the TARDIS are too small is an amusing nod to the fans.

'Blink' also benefits from some genuinely creepy moments, mostly involving the Weeping Angels, especially during the final encounter in the house, as Sally and Lawrence blink and suddenly find a snarling statue reaching out for them, and end up in a cellar with the lights flickering out. Director Hettie Macdonald does a great job and keeps the story moving along at a cracking pace, with some fantastic shots of the statues appearing in various locations around the city, and wrings every drop of menace out of them that she possibly can. When the nature of the Weeping Angels is first explained by the Doctor in 1969, it sounds worryingly like the sort of one-line infodump used to explain away ill-conceived monsters that Russell T. Davies is prone to, but they turn out to be much better devised than that, with their "quantum locked" nature proving quite satisfying. Although the Doctor's claim that you can't kill a stone does rather raise the question of what effect twatting one of them with a sledge-hammer would have. The means of their defeat, as the Doctor uses the TARDIS to trick them into looking at each other, is also quite neat. Hilariously, the very last scene has bugger all to do with anything else and seems designed *purely* to make kids afraid of statues, which is the sort of thing that even Hinchcliffe and Holmes stopped short of.

With the Doctor and Martha largely absent, it falls to Sally Sparrow to take the lead, and Moffat writes her quite well, although worryingly Kathy is permanently removed from her and Lawrence's lives and it doesn't seem to unduly upset either of them, making her little more than a throwaway plot device. However, on the whole she works very well, largely because of Carey Mulligan's excellent performance. Incidentally, much as I quite enjoyed 'Love & Monsters', she also works considerably better than Elton because she comes across as a real person, rather than a comedic socially-awkward half-wit who sticks his cock in paving slabs. Larry also works rather well because although he's clearly a stereotypical internet-obsessed nerd, he's very much like people I actually know, whereas the cretinous Doctor Who Fan pastiches of 'Love & Monsters' where not. Billy Shipton is also well scripted, albeit not especially well acted in either incarnation (of the two, the younger version fares slightly better due to the Michael Obiora's charisma).

Martha does nothing worth mentioning here, but the Doctor's presence is felt throughout and the fact that he outwits the Weeping Angels from afar is very welcome. Incidentally, trapped in 1969, the Doctor, who wouldn't age, could just hang around until 2007 and sort everything out himself, rescuing Billy and Kathy when he'd got the TARDIS back, so the fact that he goes to such elaborate lengths here suggests that he values Martha's life over everyone else here. Because he meets Sally after she's helped defeat the Weeping Angels but before he has actually encountered them, he just about gets away with this, since he's working to a predetermined plan that has, in effect, sprung up out of time itself due to the inherent paradox at the heart of the scenario, but it still makes him look like a massive sod.

Overall, 'Blink' again demonstrates Moffat's abilities as a Doctor Who script-writer and is a well-made and generally pleasing filler episode. I'm not entirely convinced that a slightly-Doctorless episode every year is wise (and it's a good job that we didn't get one during the Eccleston months), but here it works almost as a reprieve before the season starts to build to its finale, as the next episode trailer shows Jack making his return?

"Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you could believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink. Good luck!"

Rather than have another stab at it himself, this year Russell T. Davies has delegated the season's most difficult episode - the now customary 'Doctor-lite' episode - to one of his best writers. Perhaps it was just the luck of the draw, or maybe Davies realised that an exceptionally talented writer like Steven Moffat could make something out of nothing in the same way that Davies himself did with "Love & Monsters" last year.

Whilst he has more lines than he did in "Love & Monsters", in this episode the Doctor exists for the most part as a mysterious, off-screen character. Moffat handles him much in the same way that many of the writers of the novels -- particularly the New Adventures -- did back in the 1990s. I quickly got sick these of 'Doctor-lite' adventures in print, but every once in a while I have to admit that it works spectacularly. It reaffirms that mystery. Gives the audience a new perspective. And, if I was cynical, I'd say that it also allowed the production team to film two episodes at once so that they might squeeze "The Runaway Bride" into their hectic schedule?

And so this week the burden of driving the plot forward lies elsewhere. Just like with Elton in "Love & Monsters" and invisible Eugene in Torchwood's "Random Shoes", this episode is carried by the non-regular character of Sally Sparrow, wonderfully portrayed by this week's leading lady, Carey Mulligan.

KATHRYN: What's good about sad?
SALLY: It's happy for deep people.

As "Blink" lives or dies by Sally Sparrow, it is fortunate that she is a compelling and endearing character. She is instantly likeable; clever, funny, and with a very dry sense of humour -- she evens laughs at herself quite a bit. She's sort of a twenty-first century Benny Summerfield.

I thought that the episode was very slow to start. The pre-title sequence was distinctly bland and so, at least up until Kathy's was 'zapped' back in time, the episode didn't really hook me. However, when Kathy did arrive in Hull, 1920, I had to laugh out loud. Not only is it the butt of the old Blackadder joke, but it's also the 'top of the crap map' city? where I went to University and where I just happen to work. It's the Hull Daily Mail, mind, not 'the Hull Times'. You'd think they'd have done their homework?

"Because life is short and you are hot".

Once it got going though, I really enjoyed the episode. Moffat's characters are all so funny and real; I especially liked the smooth young cop, D.I. Billy Shipton. Once he had been 'zapped' back to 1969 we were finally treated to some exposition, courtesy of the Doctor and Martha.

"The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess; no fuss; just zap you into the past and make you live to death."

The Doctor gives Billy a message to deliver to Sally; a message that it will take him 38 years to deliver. The hospital scene where the old, dying Billy finally gives that message to Sally is beautifully written, and really quite melancholy. On the whole, "Blink" may be much more upbeat that Moffat's peerless offering last year, but it still has its "Girl In The Fireplace" moments.

Moffat has also really tapped into something with his DVD Easter Eggs -- what a concept! It's one of those fantastic ideas that seem so obvious once they've been done -- the Doctor as a DVD Easter Egg! It's contemporary and cool and children will love it. More than that though, it creates one of those seldom-used, head-scratching time travel plots that Doctor Who just does not do enough. We have one half of a conversation recorded in 1969 and eventually published on just seventeen DVDs as an easter egg. The other half of the conversation is then transcribed in 2007. This transcription is then delivered to the Doctor in 2008 so that when he gets trapped in 1969 he can record his half and thus complete the circle? or should I say complete the 'wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey ball'?

"They are quantum locked. They don't exist when they are being observed. The moment they are seen by any other living creature they freeze into rock. No choice; it is a fact of their biology. In the sight of any other living thing they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Of course, a stone can't kill you either, but then you turn your head away. Then you blink. And oh yes it can."

There is one devastating moment when on the DVD, the Doctor says that the transcript has run out. The Weeping Angels are coming. From thereon in the fear factor goes through the roof. Larry Nightingale is another brilliant character, but amusing as he may be throughout (with all his nerdish quips like "I've got that on a T-Shirt" etc.), he's even more entertaining when, if you'll pardon my French, he's shitting himself. It's those wide-eyes. He's desperately trying not to blink. But that's the instinct isn't it? Cover the eyes. But he can't, or he's dead.

You can't hide behind the sofa because that is when they'll get you. Genius.

I thought that the most frightening sequence was outside the TARDIS in the basement. When one of the Angels (somehow) does something to the light and it begins to flicker, the Angels begin to move in short bursts. Hettie MacDonald -- the first woman to direct an episode since 1985 -- has shot and edited this part beautifully; it is absolutely chilling. The statues move almost like a piece of animation. A quick series of grotesque freezes. It's horrible. But thankfully, even in his absence the Doctor saves the day. He allows Sally and Larry into the TARDIS which then dematerialises around them. Of course, those pesky Angels were outside it, shaking it about. What they didn't see coming was that once it had dematerialised, they'd all be looking square at each other. Checkmate.

"Blink" ends flawlessly -- the closing montage of all those statues and gargoyles juxtaposed with the Doctor's "don't blink" speech will doubtless leave a generation of children with a deep-rooted fear of statues, gargoyles and grotesques. And if we're honest, probably quite a few adults too?

All told, "Blink" was never going to be a monumental episode like "The Empty Child" or my personal favourite, "The Girl In The Fireplace". You just can't have an episode with that sort of weight without your regular cast. However, given the choice between a 'Doctor-lite' episode of this kind of quality or a Stargate-style clip show, I know which I'd choose every time. The fact that this episode was far better than "The Lazarus Experiment" and "42" - both of which had a full cast, big-name guest stars and a bucketload of C.GI. -- says it all really. With "Blink", Moffat has written an episode that will undoubtedly chill Britain on a warm summer's night.

It's really annoying. A few years ago I had a dream in which a time traveller from the future has a love affair with a young criminal, and repeatedly rescues her from arrest by using details of her exact whereabouts found in her diary he picked up years after the event at a jumble sale (seriously!). I always thought this would make a great short film, but never got around to writing it. Seems I never will now.

The neat paradoxes of time travel make for satisfying storytelling (see Back To The Future, which this episodes references with the letter), yet are oddly underused in a show about time travel. It's strange that there are only a small handful of adventures whose plot revolves around the notion of time travel. Off the top of my head Day Of The Daleks, Timelash, Mawdryn Undead, Father's Day... I'm sure there are one or two others. Though I don't think any have done it quite so satisfyingly as here.

If you don't think about it too hard, it all ties up beautifully; though of course with most of these things, there are gaping plot holes if you give it more than a moment's consideration: for example, how did the Doctor know the exact timing of his conversation with Sally, not to mention some of the incidental details, considering he only had written evidence? How come the Doctor has the TARDIS set up in advance with a device which reads DVDs and gives the bearer a one-way ticket, complete with handy hologram? That said, the actual pre-recorded conversation was done very well, and the messages encoded into DVD easter eggs was quite a Philip K Dick moment, as was the alluded-to cult following that the messages has accrued.

As with last year's Love And Monsters, there was an underlying sense of tragedy behind the frightening haunted house romp, a real feeling of loss; and like last year, the Doctor was stamped all over the proceedings, like Orson Welles in The Third Man, despite his limited screen time. This time around, however, the Love And Monsters trademark silliness was largely absent, making Blink the more memorable and succesful of the two "Doctor Lite" episodes to date.

The weeping angels gave the episode the feel of the childrens drama serials the BBC were so good at during the late '70s and 1980s: The Enchanted Castle, Moondial, The Legend Of Green Knowe, etc. The fast pace and glossy 2007 production values took a fair bit of the edge off the spookiness, and I can't help wondering how much more creepy it would have been done in the slower-moving and more sombre early '80s style. It would probably have scared the bejeezus out of me.

So, other than a (probably) unavoidable modern glossiness and (probably) unavoidable plot holes, were there any down sides? Well, only the usual really. Most of the characterisation felt very standard-issue RTD, and Murray Gold's score undid a lot of the atmosphere by veering into Keff McCulloch territory with those ghastly 'orchestra hits' towards the start - whoever thought they were an attractive or effective noise? And the whole Sparrow and Nightingale thing? This was presumably a dig at low-rent ITV detective drama Rosemary and Thyme, hence the reference to ITV in the dialogue... but if so, why bother including such naffness in the episode in the first place? And anyway, Sally Sparrow (presumably a reference to similar '90s time travel sitcom Goodnight Sweetheart and its protagonist Gary Sparrow) is such an obviously made-up name that it proved tremendously distracting.

These are just small grumbles, though. Blink was yet another Steven Moffat masterclass in how to do 45 minutes of Doctor Who, tantalsingly drip-feeding the viewer information, avoiding the otherwise obligatory last act runaround, and getting the whole thing wrapped up under time (leaving the editors a minute or so at the end to play around with some pictures of statues they had lying around) without it ever feeling rushed. Along with The Shakespeare Code and Human Nature, the third absolutely top notch episode this season. More please.

Blink marked the return of the popular Steven Moffat with his third script for Doctor Who, making him and Russell T Davies the only writers to have penned stories for all three series of 21st-century Doctor Who (and both will be back for Series 4).

Moffat's previous contributions - The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances and The Girl In The Fireplace - were lavish-looking episodes, which would have taken a decent chunk of the show's budget to bring to life, especially the former. Blink, by contrast, was probably the cheapest episode since the series returned, with no CGI required. It was also notable for being what has become known as the season's "Doctor-lite" episode, designed to give the lead actors a break in a hectic shooting schedule.

It is widely known that showrunner Davies provides his writers with a "shopping list" of ingredients to weave into their stories - but "don't write anything which will cost us money - oh, and keep The Doctor and his companion out of as many scenes as possible!" means you're off to Lidl's rather than Harrods. Therefore, it's essential that the script is of the highest quality, which is pretty much a given when the name Steven Moffat is attached to it.

And, having given us faces which transform into gasmasks, followed by clockwork droids which hide under the bed, Moffat has added another ingredient to his own growing Doctor Who "scare list" . . .

Blink was the story of Sally Sparrow, a 21st-century girl who enters an abandoned old house, and is stunned to find warnings to her written on the walls. She returns to the house with her friend, Cathy Nightingale, who mysteriously vanishes as Sally answers to the door to a young man claiming to be Cathy's grandson.

It transpires that Cathy was transported back to 1920, from where she lived her life, and left instructions for her grandson to take a letter explaining this extraordinary situation to Sally. At first, she doesn't believe it, until she sees Cathy's grave.

A similar thing happens to a policeman Sally meets, him being transported back to 1969, where he encounters The Doctor and Martha, also trapped there after being separated from the TARDIS, which is being held by Weeping Angels, a race in the form of statues who feed off energy from other beings. To avoid being consumed by the Angels, and sent back in time, you must stare at them. They can never be looked upon by each other, or they are frozen forever.

The Doctor fears the Angels will attempt to devour the huge energy force from the TARDIS if they gain entry to it, and leaving messages for Sally in the future to help him is the only way he can stop them. He also sends her the TARDIS key.

The Doctor manages to "converse" with Sally in the form of a hidden extra in a batch of DVDs, which Sally owns. Together with Cathy's brother, Larry, Sally returns to the house in search of answers. As the Angels close in on them, Larry and Sally find the TARDIS, and get inside and enter a DVD provided by The Doctor into the console, which enables the TARDIS to ensnare the Angels into looking at each other, and being frozen.

A year later, Sally encounters The Doctor in the street outside the shop she and Larry now owns, and provides him with a transcript of the meeting they'll have in his future, which will enable him to set into motion the chain of events which she has already lived.

Phew. Holy Paradox Batman . . .

A fantastically-clever script from Moffat again. Not just in fulfilling the dual obligations of keeping the costs down and The Doctor's role to a minimum, but for still giving him an integral role and actually making it look like he was in it more than he actually was. And for coming up with a rattling good story, perfectly paced with decent, likeable characters - especially lead girl Sally - and a new, scary monster in the shape of the statues.

More stunning work from the prosthetics team and the performance artists within to realise the statues, to come across as genuinely creepy. Good, fast-cutting work from director Hettie MacDonald to close up on the Angels as their expressions changed, too. Definitely added to the fear factor, along with some understated work from Murray Gold.

Like Marc Warren last year in Love & Monsters, Carey Mulligan was a delight in the guest lead role. And like Elton, Sally Sparrow would, you feel, make a great companion given the chance.

A few chuckles along the way - nice cameo from Martha, muscling into The Doctor's DVD appearance, complaining about having to work in a shop to support him! And a gentle, playful prod at the world of the Internet geek, in the shape of Larry. Would you wear a T-shirt with a Doctor Who quote on it? Hmm . . . still, Moffat gave him the pretty girl in the end - geeks of the world rejoice!

And a nice touch at the end, reminding us that all statues are evil!

Only downside for me was that, brilliant as this script was, I don't really like any "Doctor-lite" episodes in the season, although I appreciate the good reasons behind it. As it's done out of necessity rather than choice, I would rather see just 12 episodes where the eponymous hero is prevalent, if the season schedule is so tight. Doctor Who isn't just about The Doctor, but I missed the dynamic between him and the new characters, which is an important area of the show. And I can't really mark Blink above other episodes in the run which have fulfilled that criteria so well.

Nine and a half out of 10 as a piece of quality TV in its own right, but seven and a half out of 10 as a Doctor Who episode - solid nonetheless, in a cracking season which looks set to be clunker-free, with three weeks to go.

Family of Blood

Well, this conclusion must rank as one of the most missed opportunities ever in the history of Who. Human Nature was probably the best episode so far of new Who (just having the edge - by virtue of such unique storyline - to Dalek, Father's Day, Unquiet Dead, Tooth and Claw, Girl in the Fireplace and Impossible Planet) and promised so much, but unfortunately Family of Blood in general seems to take a wrong turn, or should I say, a lazy one, in what is rapidly becoming the new Who two-parter tradition (and horribly reminiscent of the various let downs of Season 22). Not to say that Family of Blood is a bad episode, far from it, in new Who terms it is still a high-ranking slice, and in places it still reflects glimmers of its opener's poetry ('he's fire and ice... he's... like the night' - nice but actually a bit lame in true poetical terms and ironically not a patch on an immortal line about the Doctor from the otherwise deplorable romp Meglos in Season 18: 'he takes the strands of the universe and binds them back together' (sic)).

The sad fact is that the very kernel of this unique story in the history of Who is also its downfall: what in Human Nature starts out as an almost profound and deeply enriching take on 'what if the Doctor was suddenly a human, what would he be like etc.', in Family of Blood egenerates into a cod-Messianic take on the Timelord ('he's ancient and forever...' - no he isn't, he only has 12 lives!), which echoes back to the 'God in the police box' of Season 26 and to the literally messianic post-regeneration prostration of the Eight Doctor ('Who am I?'), but goes even more overboard than before. The flash forward of the Doctor marrying Redfurn, having kids and then dying of old age as a human is of course a direct copy of Last Temptation of Christ - it is quite moving in a way but again is possibly taking things a bit too far when one considers the nature of the film it is copying. As soon as one start supposing the Doctor to be some sort of 'lonely God' or even Messiah, the whole history of the series is in danger of losing its real substance in that this implies the Timelord is omnipotent and invulnerable and not the character of old who had to use his wits and intelligence to solve various dilemmas. Whereas in classic Who the Doctor was more equatable with Sherlock Holmes in space (a celebate genius - juxtaposed quite literally in Talons of Weng-Chiang), the clumsier new Who goes the full hog and practically equates him with a Christ-like figure.

This hint at ominpotence is only further cemented in the almost absurdly poetic/arthouse-esque conclusion in which the Doctor quite callously traps the family of blood in inert immortality (the girl is apparently that thing in the corner of the eye when we look in a mirror and the boy has been more fittingly imprisoned as a scarecrow - the latter was a nice touch, a potent and crucificial motif, but again a rather ruthless curse by the Doctor). This smacks of the fate of Borusa in The Five Doctors, frozen forever immortal as a face on the base of Rassilon's tomb. If we always wondered who the third of the Rassilon-Omega triad was, it seems we're looking at him every week, apparently.

Flawed poeticism aside, my other criticisms of Family of Blood are as follows:

a) the complete failure to develop the character of Latimer, who we find out in the end is nothing more than an Earth child with precognitive abilities, who just happens to be the one who eventually finds the Doctor's watch, which in turn enables him to see into the future, which he could do anyway - therefore a red herring of a character
b) the mawkishly sentimental and ridiculous scenes of Latimer, still visibly too young to be in combat, managing to avoid a shell thanks to his insights of the future from the Doctor's watch - ok, wonderful, so of course there weren't any other shells or bullets to strike him down in No-Man's-Land, only that particular one!
c) the very Schindler's List -esque overkill of the last scene at the war memorial
d) the complete lack of development or explanation about who exactly the family of blood are, what they really look like etc. - the glib description of them 'living only three months, like mayflies' thus needing the Doctor's regenerations to cheat death was again poetically put, but more insight into their true nature and form would have been nice
e) why in the first place did the Doctor decide to change himself into a human for fear of being detected by the family when he hasn't done this before in same circumstances, and also when he was only going to change back and defeat them in the end anyway? Ok, so we're told that it was his compassion to avoid defeating them that led him to do this - that's fair enough - but then it doesn't hold up considering people are killed in the process. On the surface it seems it's just a convenient plot device to explore him as a human.
f) the ludicrous and unexplained process of changing his entire biology with some unsubstantiated 'device' - had it been a 'cloaking device' - a true parallel to the chameleon device of the TARDIS - to simply disguise him as human, it would have sounded more plausible, but to actually physically transform into one - come on! The Timelord part of him (his bio-data extract?) put into a little watch!? Yes, but how? This all smacks of hocum and magic symbolism.
g) the performances of the family are a mix of menacing and hammy - but in this episode, more the latter, especially with the leader's increasingly over-zealous articulations - and the ray guns are clumsy and unsubtle and undermine any real menace
h) the absolutely inappropriate and tedious lapses of Martha regarding her apparently 'loving to bits' the Doctor - whom she hasn't known that long anyway; we have a companion simply filling the shoes of the previous, offering nothing new in terms of personality or perspective, but who is unfortunately far less of an actress than her predecessor, so seemingly has nothing to offer but just air-sprayed looks and doe eyes
i) why does the Doctor have talk and act like a flippant, trendy nerd in order to emphasize the contrast between the real him and the frankly more preferable and interesting John Smith? With a flick of those Jarvis Cocker glasses and he's back!
j) why on Earth did the Doctor offer to take Redfurn with him? What's all this about? What did he mean by saying 'all those things he was I am'? Was this an offer of marriage? Surely this undermined the whole storyline of the Doctor only being suitable for such a union in human form?

The good aspects to this episode: the battle against the scarecrows was very well choreographed, and was a very nice juxtaposition to the oncoming war, the scarecrows falling down instantly at the bullets, a powerful motif for the futility of the oncoming conflict, in which the soldiers may as well be just stuffed of straw for all their chances against the enemy guns. These scenes were very effective indeed and the highpoint of the episode.

As I said, the poeticism of some lines and moments were well done, if a little over-done; the shot of the Doctor dying of old age in his present incarnation was fairly profound; the acting of Redfurn was exceptional in the parting scene with the Doctor; Tennant's acting as John Smith when hearing the truth of his true nature was also exceptional, though a little bizarre to see the Doctor bursting into tears (though I suppose Eccleston was often near to it, especially in Dalek, and didn't even have humanisation to answer for that).

I've never read Human Nature (nor any of the new adventures), but I'm assuming some bits were hacked out of this story for televisation, as the fans have always railed about how good it was. On the basis of this dissapointing conclusion, I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose the premise, and certainly the first half of the story, might be the reason for this. Human Nature was and remains a classic episode - but I am very dissapointed that Family of Blood proved an unworthy successor. It is still a very good episode in places, but it just doesn't fulfill the huge promise of the opener, due to a lapse into sentiment and mawkishness which isn't quite rescued by its better, more resonant and poetic aspects.

Next time, why not adapt Lungbarrow? Now that really could make a classic, and surely now Human Nature has paved the way for an even more penetrating look at the Doctor's true nature and background?

Family of Blood: a disappointing 6.8/10, considering the near perfection of its first part.

As predicted, "The Family of Blood" turned out to be one of the best episodes of Doctor Who ever. Period, as they say stateside. Last week's episode flawlessly set the stage -- Paul Cornell masterfully condensed the bulk of his acclaimed novel into one astonishing forty-five minute script. Naturally, all of the superfluous plot elements were excised: the fake Doctor; the suffragette; Alexander; even the Doctor's very motive for becoming human. But we were certainly given a lot more in exchange: Scarecrows; Gallifreyan fob watches; the Family of Blood. And this week, the last hundred pages or so of Cornell's novel are brought to life explosively along with so much more?

"God you're rubbish as a human. Come on!"

This episode is the perfect response to the Freema Agyeman-bashing media. "The Family of Blood" is without doubt her strongest outing to date, both in terms of Freema's performance and also in how her character really shows her mettle. The resolution to the cliff-hanger says it all -- Martha holds the Family at gunpoint allowing Joan, Smith and all the other villagers at the Dance to escape. And what thanks does she get?

This situation is so hard on Martha for so many reasons. In the novel, Benny certainly had no love lost for Smith's lover. Joan came across as stuck-up, pompous and patronising in the scenes that they shared. For Benny though, it was a little bit easier for her to just grit her teeth and get on with the job in hand as for one thing, she wasn't seething with jealously over the Smith / Joan relationship, and for another, Joan's bigotry didn't cut quite as deeply with her as it does here with Martha for obvious reasons. But to her credit, Martha shows what she is made of; the Doctor trusted her with his life and she does not let him down, no matter how dejected she feels.

"Women might train to be Doctors,

but hardly a skivvy and hardly one of your colour."

What I really like about how Cornell uses Martha here is that she does not hit back in a predictable way. Had Ace, for example, been treated in the way that Martha is in this story then she would have busted some heads. Martha, on the other hand, keeps her cool. She knows that Joan is not a bad woman -- the racist slurs that she makes do not come from the heart; she has just had certain views drummed into her since birth and Martha knows this. And so when she is insulted and belittled, how does she respond? She names every bone in the hand and forearm. She shuts Joan up with her expert medical knowledge. She proves that she is telling the truth.

"Super, super fun!"

Another standout performer here, as in the first episode, is Harry Lloyd. All the Family are very impressive on screen, but Baines is something else. Last week we were treated to a few fleeting glimpses of his deliciously mischievous, over-the-top, almost playful brand of evil but this week he really lets rip. He is loving every second of the hunt; every moment of the chase. He takes great delight in every death; in every humiliation. The way he bates the Headmaster is absolutely brilliant. His mockery is as grotesque as it is chilling.

"Do you think they will thank the man who taught them it [war] was glorious?"

I have to admit though, the Headmaster is so disagreeable that I was rooting for Baines to vaporise him! When he does eventually meet his doom at the hands of Daughter of Mine it is almost gratifying. Perhaps it is his arrogance or his pig-headed refusal to look facts in the face that make him so utterly loathsome. Perhaps it is that he seems to encapsulate everything that feels so wrong about the time period and the school -- it is men like this Headmaster that keep boys like Timothy down and encourage boys like Hutchinson and Baines to be aggressive, cruel and ruthless. It is also men like the Headmaster that make young boys fight with machine guns.

As do men like John Smith.

Young boys weeping and panicking as they are forced to discharge firearms in a battle situation is one of those haunting images that stuck in my mind for a long time after I first read the "Human Nature" novel. On screen it is even more of a disturbing picture. This is as nothing though when compared to seeing the man who should be the Doctor holding a rifle, armed and ready to fire. Charles Palmer directs this battle sequence skilfully, particularly in how he singles out David Tennant for those profile shots, aiming the weapon straight at the camera. It really hammers home the gulf between John Smith and the Doctor.

"I'm John Smith, that's all I want to be!

With him? his life and his job and his love?

why can't I be John Smith?"

And then, as a slightly corrupted version of the 'Face of Boe' music plays, the real tragedy of the story unfurls. The Doctor hadn't even considered the possibility that his human self might fall in love. More importantly, he hadn't considered the possibility that his human self might not want to relinquish his existence.

SMITH: You're the Doctor's companion, why can't you help? What do you do for him exactly? Why does he need you?
MARTHA: Because he's lonely.
SMITH: And that's what you want me to become?

My favourite scene in the whole two-parter takes place in the Cartwright's cottage. In my opinion it is one of the greatest scenes ever in Doctor Who; it simply says it all. It is the point where it all stops being implied.

The human Doctor, terrified.

His loyal companion, smitten.

His lover, enamoured.

The young boy with the extra engram, enchanted.

"Because I've seen him and he's like fire and ice and rage.

He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.

He's ancient and forever.

He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe.

And he's wonderful."

Tim's description of the Doctor is sheer poetry. I've never - not even in the novel - heard him described quite so succinctly and flagrantly. In a single paragraph Tim sums up what the Doctor is all about and why he is so fantastic, and then in one line John Smith says exactly what he lacks: "He won't love you."

Quite frankly I was surprised -- pleasantly surprised! -- at just how far Cornell was allowed to push the envelope in this scene. As the fob watch shows Smith and Joan vivid visions of their possible future -- marriage; children; deathbed etc. -- the viewer is reminded more than ever that the Doctor could never have that sort of life. In the gut-wrenching 2005 episode "Father's Day", also penned by Cornell, Christopher Eccleston's ninth Doctor regretfully states that he has never had a life like that. And much more memorably, as the tenth Doctor says a tearful goodbye to Rose on the beach in "Doomsday" he says, again regretfully, that she is embarking on the one adventure that he can never have. "The Family of Blood" makes that adventure explicit. We see what might have been. Everything that John Smith has to lose.

Everything that the Doctor can never be.

"The Time Lord has such adventures, but he could never have a life like that."

Last week I got into a bit of a heated debate with my Dad about the Doctor and women. He's firmly against the Doctor having 'a girl in every Fireplace', instead believing that the show should just be about the Doctor and his companion going off and having adventures in time and space. What I couldn't make him understand is that the above is exactly what we have! The Doctor and his companion going off and having adventures in time and space. Stories like "Human Nature" only emphasise the harsh reality that nothing traditionally romantic could ever happen between the Doctor and his companion no matter how strongly he feels about them, just as poor Martha is learning over the course of this series. The Doctor has no concept of monogamy. Of sex. Of love, per se. Not on such a 'small' scale. He certainly loved Rose, just as he loved Sarah Jane and all the others. But not in the conventional human way. It's easily forgotten that the Doctor is an alien, but this two-parter serves as a poignant reminder of just how alien the Doctor is. Perhaps Rob Shearman hit the nail on the head in "Scherzo" when he likened the Doctor's companions to pets. Now I love my cat, and I'd certainly be gutted if she got stranded in a parallel universe, but still?

"He never raised his voice. That was the worst thing.

The fury of the Time Lord. And then we discovered why:

why this Doctor, who had fought with gods and demons,

why he'd run away from us and hidden. He was being kind."

The emergence of the Doctor at the end of the episode is oh so quick and oh so brilliant. He defeats the Family of Blood with ease and then sentences them to fates worse than death. Episode 9 of Series 2 ("The Satan Pit") ended with the Doctor proclaiming himself to be the stuff of legend. Episode 9 of Series 3 ends with the Doctor proving himself to be the stuff of legend. The cold and brutal Doctor that we see chain Father of Mine in unbreakable bonds; that we see cast Mother of Mine into the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy; that we see trap Daughter of Mine in a mirror -- in every mirror -- is Time's Champion of the New Adventures. He's an alien. He's a legend.

And he's a million billion light years away from John Smith.

And as for Baines, his calm voiceover describing the plight of his family seems to reveal a begrudging respect for the entity that thwarted his plans so utterly. Like some begotten creature of myth, Baines is resigned to his perpetual fate.

"As for me, I was suspended in time

and the Doctor put me to work standing

over the fields of England, as their protector.

We wanted to live forever, so the Doctor made sure that we did."

But it doesn't end there. With the alien menace defeated, the story turns back to more personal matters. In what David Tennant describes as his favourite scene, the Doctor pays Joan one last visit with the intention of sweeping her off her feet and showing her the stars, but all she wants is for him to change back into John Smith. And he can. But he won't. And she hates him for it.

"John is dead, and you look like him? If the Doctor had never visited us?

on a whim? would anybody have died?"

The Doctor leaves Joan a broken woman and she too leaves her mark on him. Because whether he admits it or not, on some level that Doctor has tasted this life that he can never have, and part of him wants it - the part of him that was tempted by the Master's trap in "Circular Time". And worse, she leaves another painful mark on him because he knows that she's right, morally speaking. Wherever he goes death and destruction inevitably follow, and there is nothing that he can do about it.

"He took my hands, and he kissed my forehead?

He turned back once and looked around.

And somehow he found where all of us were looking at him.

And then he started to run. With determination. Without a hint of reluctance.

Because he still had things to do?

He had a whole other self that he had to be to do that."

By the time the TARDIS dematerialised I'd already passed my usual limit of one single manly tear shed per tear-jerker, and so when the Doctor's voiceover led us into the Great War and then into a remembrance ceremony it was a bit too much to take. The scene of Latimer saving Hutchinson's life, all thanks to the Doctor's pocket watch, is a wonderful coda to the story. And, even though Hutchinson is so thoroughly unpleasant, there is something uplifting about his life being saved by the boy that he used to bully. For some reason I half expected Rolf Harris to start singing Two Little Boys, though. Thankfully Murray Gold scored the moment much more appropriately.

The final moments of the episode at the Cenotaph are equally powerful, if not more so. Old Tim, clutching his medals and sat in his wheelchair, looks up to see the Doctor and Martha -- neither of them a day older -- wearing their poppies and paying their respects. It says so much about the life that the Doctor leads and the effect that he has on people. He may bring death and destruction in his wake but, more often than not, he also brings hope.

In my review last week I ripped off the old quote 'stories are never finished, they are abandoned', but not "Human Nature". Terrifying, mesmerising and perfect, I think that Cornell has now finished what I'm sure will be considered the definitive version of his Doctor Who masterpiece. This is a fan-pleaser that will live on not only as one of the best new series stories but as one of the best Doctor Who stories ever. I'd also be surprised if it didn't get a BAFTA. It has everything that anyone could ever want from a Saturday Night prime time family drama and even more importantly, it re-affirms exactly what it means to be the Doctor.