As with “Rose,” I’m reviewing this episode after only one viewing, although I must say after re-watching “Rose” I did pick up on some things I didn’t notice the first time around and I’m even fonder of that story now than I was when writing my review.

First off, the Mill and the production team as a whole has to receive a huge thumbs up for the best visual effects seen on an episode of Doctor Who. They AT LEAST equalled those seen in the TV Movie in my opinion. I loved the look of Platform One – very pristine, very art-gallery like – exactly the kind of place you’d imagine a bunch of celebrities watching the World’s End. In particular the robotic spiders, the Mox of Balhoun and of course the Lady Cassandra all stood out as wonderful ideas that finally can be realised with credibility thanks to the budget and the amazing people working on the show. 

As for the story, I was very happy to see that it continued at the pace “Rose” ran along at. From the first two episodes, this series never lets you catch a breath let alone leave you with a dull moment! 

The variety of aliens on show was something I was both looking forward to, yet was slightly worried about – after all, if they looked crap in this day and age the series would lose viewers faster than the BBC regenerates it’s Doctors. However, as I mentioned above I was impressed with most of them – only the blue humanoid and blue midget aliens I thought were a bit unimaginative, at least in their appearance, though Davies’ script did take the time to introduce us to the female plumber and let her win our sympathies before making her the robotic spiders’ first victim, and she was more developed as a character than some of the more-hyped aliens in the story. Why did she need “permission to speak?” Is our future as full of prejudice and class division as our society now?

The first half of the story’s “whodunit” format was a clever route to take. Despite being a “family show,” I knew that even kids would work out that the faceless guys dressed in black robes who sound like Darth Vader were a little too obvious to be the real villains – my money was on the female Tree or the Lady Cassandra. After I’d heard the Mox speak and all the women in the room go “aah,” that ruled him out of contention. 

Davies script, apart from being a fast, funny and compelling sci-fi romp is also a lovely piece of social commentary – how only the richest and most famous life-forms are invited to watch the End of the World – an activity in itself which seems a bit weird; sick even – and in making the Lady Cassandra the villain (who incidentally got the biggest laugh of the show from me when she talked about “being a little boy”… wonderful stuff Russell), this vile piece of skin who thought about nothing else than being rich, “…thin and dainty…”; the epitome of a self-obsessed shallow individual certainly gives us pause for thought in our “nip and tuck” culture.

Ecclestons’ comments to the media about the Doctor being “brutal to his enemies” didn’t really wash last week as he wanted to give the Nestene a chance (very like the Doctors of old) but this week I see what Eccleston meant as Cassandra was left to dehydrate and explode quite gruesomely. Perhaps not quite as brutal as the 6th Doctor’s cold-blooded killing of the villainous Shokeye in “The Two Doctors”, Doctor number 9 seems to have dealing with his enemies spot on.

It’s so sad to say now we know that he’s leaving in the Christmas Special, but Christopher Eccleston really is the perfect Doctor for the 21st century. He can handle action – for example, look this week how he strolled right up to the mime-droid thingys and ripped one of their arms off. He looks like he’s always one step ahead – “…if you’re as clever as I am you can reverse a teleportation beam…”. He’s very funny, has a great accent (up the North!!!), and as this week’s episode shows, he can show emotion, far better than any of the previous Doctor’s ever did if I dare be so bold, though I’m sure that has more to do with the wonderful script than the quality of the Doctor. My favourite thing about him though is that he goes at a hundred miles an hour, he has that zesty Tom Baker/ McGann quality and he still has that Hartnell/Colin Baker grumpiness about him. We’ll miss you Chris!

Now thinking back to “Rose” for a moment, the Doctor mentioned fighting in “the war” and was at his most emotional when he was pleaded that he couldn’t save the Nestene’s world, that he “…couldn’t save ANY OF THEM,” implying world other than those belonging to the Nestene were destroyed. At the time, I thought the reference was just an allusion to the upcoming Aliens of London / World War III two-parter, but it is beginning to look like far more. 

Still thinking back, I loved the Doctor’s reply to Rose when he just answered “yep” to her question about him being alien – no mention on Gallifrey or the Time Lords; I was hoping that this issue would be given the proper time to be explored in another episode. I think that the production team has taken a far better approach in spreading the ‘revelations’ about the Doctor out, there was already enough in the first episode for new viewers to take in without sticking in a throwaway one-liner about the Doctor’s homeworld.

It surprised me how beautifully the Doctors’ origins were explored by this episode, beginning with Rose’s argument with the Doctor about where he’s from and he wouldn’t answer. “You wouldn’t know where it is anyway!” He couldn’t bring himself to say the name. Secondly, through the female Tree scanning the Doctor, then later revealing to him that she knows where he is from. That scene has to be my favourite of the first two episodes – the Doctor with a manly tear trickling down his cheek, the Tree putting her hand (branch/sap?) on his arm to comfort him and so eloquently summing up the thoughts of collected fandom “…it is a miracle that you even exist.” Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to speak he was so overcome with grief. 

The implication that Gallifrey has been destroyed, making the Doctor the last of the Timelords, is a superb idea for the new series as like almost 42 years ago in “An Unearthly Child,” the Doctor is once again truly out on his own, a wanderer in the fifth dimension, only this time he is further than home than he ever has been before – he can NEVER go home because it isn’t there. His decision to take Rose to witness the destruction of her homeworld must have been his way of letting her see his pain, letting her feel his loss, bringing her closer. After the adventure was over, the Doctor finally explaining to Rose about his world being destroyed brought the episode to a fitting and emotionally-satisfying climax, eventually ending with the Doctor taking Rose back to contemporary London for a bag of chips, the message as Eccleston said being something like “enjoy life, because it doesn’t last forever.”

Easy as it was for the Doctor to simply whip the TARDIS back nearly five billion years so Rose could still enjoy her world, I’m almost positive that the Doctor can’t travel back in time to Gallifrey before it’s destruction, the ramifications to the timeline would be too great and even if they weren’t, I’m sure Timelords are born into a specific time and at least on Gallifrey lead linear lives, to have TARDISes popping up all over Gallifreyan history would be too chaotic to think about! In the “classic series,” stories on Gallifrey always took place in a linear order, though I think this was more to do with stories making sense to the viewers! Maybe that infamous “Time barrier” surrounding the planet did just that – blocked out time travel? Who knows. I’m sure this question will be addressed down the line, as will the other wonderful questions raised – what was this war? WHAT HAPPENED TO GALLIFREY? 

The destruction of his planet may help get the Doctor over with the new audience as more of a tragic and lonely character, but to a seasoned fan who has seen every existing episode and listened to most of Big Finish’s audio offerings, the loss of Gallifrey is hard to comprehend. What of President Romana? Leela? The High Council? Rassilon, Omega… all that history, gone. It’s still hard to take in! I heard that the destruction of Gallifrey was going to be in the final 8th Doctor BBC novel, though I sincerely hope not as now it’s been set up it HAS TO be explored on screen, if not in this series than in the next (thanks for series 2 by the way, BBC Wales!)

There were so many little touches to this story that brought a smile to my face, moments of outright comedy (the Doctor dancing to “Tainted Love” on the jukebox; amusing referred to as an “iPod!!!”; his “jiggery-pokery” with Rose’s Nokia!) to moments of horrific poignancy (that awful Britney Spears song, “Toxic,” being played as a piece of ‘classic’ music as the world ends; Rose commenting that the world ended and ‘no-one noticed’ because they were too busy saving themselves.) Far too many little touches to give credit to in a review.

As the first sort of “regular” story I can’t see how anyone would not be impressed by it. Horrible little robotic spiders running around, people (and Trees) being burned alive, and best of all the intrigue surrounding the Doctor, his world, and his relationship with Rose. I hope this character development continues as it has been doing, slowly, a little bit at a time, and I’m very interested to see how Mark Gatiss’ story continues to develop the relationship between our heroic duo next week as Russell T. Davies has done so brilliantly thus far…

Beginning at the beginning, it's surprisingly cool to see "Doctor Who" starting off with a modern-day-TV-style "previously on Doctor Who" clips montage (though they didn't use the words) and then a pre-credits teaser before launching into the title sequence. I like it!

It's also extremely cool to have so many amazing visuals to see in a "Doctor Who" episode. And it's hard to pick favorites too... there's all the exterior shots of the Platform, the swelling red sun, the Earth, the shuttles, the fantastic shot of the exploding Earth (I wonder which will be better... this shot or the one in US theaters in 3-1/2 weeks time... this one will be tough to beat), all the different sorts of alien life forms (especially Cassandra), the spider robots, etc. etc. etc. They pulled out all the visual stops on this and turned in shot after gorgeous shot, and gave the series as a whole the extra-strength steroidal shot it needed to put all the low-budget complaints from the critics aside in a big way.

All the different aliens were terrific both in their extremely creative designs and well-executed appearances. This would all be for nought, of course, if all they were was what they looked like, but selected members of them are given good screen time and good things to say, do, and be. Though all good, the best of this bunch were Jabe, Cassandra, and Raffalo the plumber (note: all female). I love the idea of Jabe's people being intelligent trees to whom a breath of carbon-dioxide-filled air from your lungs is an intimate gift... I love the satire dripping from every appearance of Cassandra and her moisturizing men... and I especially loved Raffalo the plumber who needs permission to speak and is grateful to Rose for giving it to her. My heart really sank when Rose left and we stayed with her shot because it was then obvious she was about to get killed. The fact that it did sink proves how quickly she became endearing, thanks to both the character writing and the wonderful performance by Beccy Armory. I say she was unrecognizeable enough to be given another part in the next season. Anyone else agree?

I loved most of the humor in this... a particular favorite was Cassandra's mistaking a jukebox for an iPod and her choices of music. Note how at first the songs seem to be nothing more than jokes, but then note how the lyrics are suspiciously appropriate for the scene in question (especially "Toxic"'s), and then note who it was selected the songs... Cassandra was giving herself away here, though no one in the station noticed apart from perhaps the Doctor... he seems to keep looking in Cassandra's direction as though he's already figured out it was her when he's using the spider-bots to find the culprit. And my favorite funny line: "What are you gonna do? Moisturize me?"

There were three scenes in particular that stood head and shoulders above the rest of the story, for the emotion they each conveyed. 

In chronological order, the first was the one where Rose and the Doctor have their argument about how he's just letting the TARDIS translate for her mind without asking her first and then she demands to know who he is and he very angrily won't tell her. You instantly wonder what he's being so defensive about, and when you look at Eccleston's face, he looks genuinely damaged here. Then he calms down, does some jiggery-pokery with Rose's cell phone, and lets her call her mum five billion years ago, which cheers her up no end and is pretty moving in itself. I got a little lump in my throat as Rose realized she was really talking to her mum... that smile Billie used here lit up the scene more than the swelling sun. 

The second scene is the one where the tremendously regal and beautiful Jabe reveals to the Doctor that she knows what he is and how she can't believe he exists and how very sorry she is. Again, it's the look on the Doctor's face... that look of real hurt and damage that tells you something big has happened to him, even more than Jabe's dialog did. (though it could also have been because someone spoiled the secret for me in advance) 

The third scene is the final one, where the Doctor takes Rose back to present-day London and a crowded street where they can smell chips, to show her both that her world is still there and that it won't last forever. It reminded me in a way of the scene from part one of "The Trial of a Time Lord" when the Doctor is trying to console Peri for similar reasons, only this scene had the tremendous advantage of being able to be shown and not told, thanks to the newer (and probably very blown) budget. This would've been a great scene if it had stopped here, but it became a classic one when he reveals to her that his planet's been destroyed in a war that they lost (undoubtedly the same one that turned the Nestenes into refugees), and that he's the last of the Time Lords. That damaged look crossed his face again here, only this time it was followed by a look of healing... as though this may have been the first time he's been able to actually say this to anyone, and just getting it out has helped him. His choice of ultimate destination for Rose's first trip is clearly the choice of his subconscious... like it needed to see Earth's sort-of-natural death. That, I think, is why he went there... not to impress Rose, but to sort out these events in his own mind, though I suspect he didn't realize this consciously until the end of the episode. My fan genes wonder how he can be certain that he's the last of the Time Lords, given that there were a number of renegades out there in the universe like the Monk, or Drax, or the Rani, who you'd think weren't on Gallifrey when whatever happened happened, or that there might still be some locked away in Shada, or other things like this, but for now I'll take him at his word. I'm also wondering where the TARDIS is getting its power from now, but there's loads of ways to answer that too, and again, I can be patient.

The "damaged" Doctor bit also goes some way to explaining his actions (inactions?) in the final scene back on Platform One with Cassandra, where he teleports her back and then doesn't lift a finger to prevent her drying out and dying. His morality has shifted it seems, and seems more stereotypical Texan-Republican than the Gallifreyan we used to know... seeing it destroyed must be the trigger for this, and I suspect we'll get to know why in more detail later on. I hope Rose helps him on this, as she just starts to in this story just by being his emotional sounding board at the end. I think she'll try, and I'm guessing that's a thread they'll be exploring at times during the season.

This episode is not perfect, however, and my chief complaints are with the basic plot, which relies too much on tried and true cliches of both "Doctor Who" and the genre in general. It's another by-the-numbers story like "Rose" was, again possibly deliberately as just getting her and the audience into such a scenario is a job in itself, but the numbers were just too familiar for me this time. The worst cliche of the bunch is the set-piece at the end with the giant rotating fan blades. When "Galaxy Quest" did the same thing with pistons, it was funny because it was pointing out how pointless these straight-out-of-a-video-game set pieces are, but here they actually tried to play this straight and it failed miserably... apart from perhaps the very last bit where the Doctor uses what seems to be his time-senses to get through the last fan. But really, this was a real let-down, and it really cheapened Jabe's death for me, since it was so tired and contrived.

On a lesser note, I'm also wondering how pulling the arm off of one of the Meme robots and then yanking something out of the arm caused all of them to fall over dead. Eh?

The cliches in the plot didn't ruin my enjoyment of the episode, however, since most everything else was so right. I think I'll go with another 8 out of 10 for this one.

I came to really like Rose after my third viewing, and feel it’s a strong serial despite its problems. In this respect I may also develop an appreciation for the second story in the new Doctor Who series. And yet Rose initially left me feeling mostly positive – I recognised that the strengths of the episode far outweighed the weaknesses. The End Of The World, however, left me feeling flat on first watching it, and a second viewing has not really improved things.

I think what undermines this entire story is an air of facetiousness that makes it difficult to take anything seriously. Presumably this is to help inject comedy into the show, but instead it makes the show seem somewhat silly, very much like the stories of McCoy’s first season. Unfortunately, Russel T. Davies, while good at delivering the odd witty line here and there, is not very good at pacing his comedy so that it blends in well with horror, suspense or the darker elements of the show. He seems to lack the ability of past writers like Robert Holmes, Douglas Adams and even Eric Saward.

The underlying story borrows heavily from Adams’ The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe. There’s the similar presence of dignitaries and the rich getting together in a protected space station to view a large-scale cosmic event. There is also a similar ending, where the heroes (be they the Doctor and Rose, or Ford and Arthur Dent) return to a younger Earth before it was destroyed and muse on its future destruction and the futility, and somewhat absurdity, of it all. The idea that the Earth has been held in its classical state and protected by gravitational devices for what seems to be none other than artistic reasons is rather charming, and the whole context, while not original, is a welcome sight in Doctor Who.

The mystery theme built into the plot works quite well. The identities of the repeated Ming are secretive and their appearance makes them quite chilling. They are obviously the bad guys, as the Doctor points out. The impact of the mystery was never really who the saboteurs were, but what they were planning and why. At this level, the story fails to deliver. Firstly, because Cassandra’s role as the brains behind the scheme is revealed by the Doctor without any real effort on his part. He merely kicks the little spider droid and tells it to find its mummy like a puppy dog. Is there any reason why it should obey the Doctor? Did he reprogramme the spider? If so, why didn’t we see it? And secondly, even when Cassandra is revealed to be the real enemy, the “why” element fails simply because her plan is utterly ludicrous. If you’ve seen the show, you know what I mean. Even the Doctor comments on what a daft plan it is. Her vanity and ideas of race purity could have been played upon to construct a far more interesting scheme than simply demanding ransom money from kidnapping the people on board. While a hostage situation may have worked, why did she choose such a precarious environment in which to do it – and then herself make the environment even more precarious? And finally when the Doctor uncovers her plot, she resorts to that terrible writer’s clichй: the backup plan! Her going on about having shares in rival companies and making mega-profits due to their deaths is bloody inane.

I feel the Doctor in this story is far worse than in Rose, and all the elements that were wrong about his character in the first story come to the fore here. One of these factors is the Doctor’s lack of explanation regarding what he is doing and his over-reliance on gadgetry. It’s never really clear what the Doctor is doing when working with technology, and one of the most frustrating aspects of this story is the over-use of the sonic screwdriver to unlock doors, play with keypads, find out data, phase out spider droids, etc. without even the slightest bit of explanation what is going on. This Doctor seems to be the least resourceful yet; when in the slightest bit of trouble, out comes the sonic screwdriver, some slightly psychic paper or a similar gadget to deal with it. Think of how his reprogramming of the spider with the sonic screwdriver mirrors his cutting off the Nestene signal to the detached arm in Rose with whatever he was using. Another thing that struck me was when the Doctor passed through the final revolving blade to activate the station’s shields. Once again, his seemingly Jedi abilities only serve to highlight that this is a Doctor, unlike his predecessors, who isn’t particularly good at using his wits and ingenuity, and instead relies on “a magic ring to rub” as Glitz told the Sixth Doctor.

In fact I am finding the Doctor’s portrayal to be very concerning indeed. In Rose he was very manic, with bizarre grinning for no reason and mood swings from buffoonery to deadly earnestness. While this might have worked – as it did work at times for Troughton and Tom Baker – Eccleston’s grinning, inane outbursts (like his “Fantastic!” in this story that was totally inappropriate, prompting Jabe to understandably inquire why such a dangerous situation was in any way fantastic) and constant laughing occur at the least appropriate times. He doesn’t do it to annoy or deflect an enemy, or to put them off guard by seeming a clown – he just does it, all the time, for no apparent reason. What’s worse, I guess, is that it doesn’t even come across as intelligent buffoonery, but like a five-year-old who has drunk too much red cordial. Think of the scene when the Doctor starts bopping to “Tainted Love”!!! I mean, this isn’t eccentric behaviour, it’s sad behaviour!

Now onto the death of Cassandra. In the past, the Doctor has stood by and failed to save a villain’s life at the last moment, even when it was in his power to do so, the most famous example being the Master’s apparent death in Planet Of Fire. With the new series, however, the Doctor seems to have a new view on how he deals out death, or allows it to be dealt out, which is rather disturbing. Firstly, perhaps because he is revealed to be the last of the Time Lords, the Ninth Doctor has an almost Judge Dred-like opinion on his responsibilities. His comments to Cassandra as she dries and dies suggest that everything has its time and place and her time was over. However, the look in the Doctor’s eyes and his body language tell us something else entirely different: here is a Doctor who has decided that she should die because of the deaths she has caused. The Doctor has done this in the past but has always shrouded his beliefs in a higher morality that seems to justify his negligence. This Doctor only says, “Oh well, that’s life” but with burning anger in his eyes. And there is the second problem with the Ninth Doctor’s approach to death and killing: he is far too emotional. I think it’s quite clear that the Doctor allowed Cassandra to die because she had caused the deaths of others – that is, he is her judge – but specifically he allowed her to die because she had indirectly caused Jabe’s death. The Doctor had developed an emotional attachment with Jabe and was filled with feelings of anger and hatred; his response was revenge. This is very dangerous ground for Doctor Who. A Doctor whose actions seem to justify revenge is completely at odds with the character’s established history. His judgement is also heavily clouded by his emotions. Why did the Doctor give the Nestene Consciousness a chance when it was already responsible for many deaths, such as Wilson the CEO of the department store where Rose worked? The reason is obvious: he never knew Wilson and never felt any kind of emotional attachment to him, therefore he judges the Nestene Consciousness impartially. But in this story, he deals with Cassandra as a form of revenge trip because of Jabe’s death. The Doctor should represent a figure, a hero, who does not resort to revenge, especially not on emotional imbalances.

While I hope some of this behaviour will mellow in future episodes, the Ninth Doctor seems to be the most immature of Time Lords, a veritable teenager in his ludicrous, socially inept behaviour, his resort to the “quick fix” solution of gadgetry and other devices, and his dangerous emotional imbalances.

Now on to the even bigger revelation that all the Time Lords are kaput and the Doctor is the last of his race. This was sweetly begun in a very touching scene between Jabe and the Doctor, which both actors pulled off in style. If only they’d left it there! The mystery surrounding the Doctor would have remained and instead of being an answer, this scene would merely raise more questions, more Doctor Who? After deliberately keeping the audience in the dark in Rose and doing so also throughout most of this story, Russell T. Davies spoils the show at the end when the Doctor reveals all. Why? What is the point? Unless there is a story during the series that will work off this revelation, I don’t think any kind of revelation should have been made at all.

The pacing and length of this story really harms characters, I feel. If you compare the screen time and development of characters in a story like The Curse Of Peladon with this story the difference is obvious. We see, for example, the Ice Warriors in the former serial as initially a threat, then as suspicious, then as honourable, etc. and others like Alpha Centauri and King Peladon also get a lot of development. However in this story, some characters, while looking great, like the Face of Moe and the Moxx of Balhoon, either say very little or nothing at all. A lot of money was spent on characters that were on screen for only about five or six minutes. When the Moxx died at the end of the story, his death should have elicited at least some kind of emotional reaction, but we don’t really get to know him, all we know is that he can deliver a mean spit ball. This is a problem.

The dialogue was great at times (“gift of air from my lungs”, “if you think that’s amazing, you should see the bill”, etc.), pedestrian through most of the story, and at times downright rubbish. Again there was a lot of unnecessary innuendo. As in Rose, the sexual references are obviously put in for humour, and while I don’t think Doctor Who is the ideal medium in which to talk about “prostitutes” and “bitchy trampolines” if you’re going to use this kind of language, at least make it funny. (Lewd language also says very little about the quality of English being imparted to children. One of the most enjoyable aspects of Doctor Who I found as a child was the use of quite a sophisticated English vocabulary and the artistry of constructing beautiful dialogue in a TV show.) When Jabe asks the Doctor about Rose’s relationship with him, why on Earth would she think Rose is his prostitute? (Other than the fact that the Doctor is actually dressed like a 20th century pimp, that is…) She is a tree, so her understanding of relationships should have been reflected in that way, perhaps asking the Doctor if Rose was his leaf stylist, herbalist, fertiliser, or hopefully something better! Rose then proceeds to tell Jabe to bring the Doctor back by midnight and leaves them to “pollinate” (her a relevant term, but the consequences are quite gross). The innuendo surrounding Jabe’s liana is also quite farcical. I’m surprised the Doctor didn’t say, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!” The attempts by Russell T. Davies to make Doctor Who funny, “contemporary” and “relevant” should not resort to ill-used, banal sexual humour.

After all that criticism, I should point out that there were some really great things about this story. Billie Piper is brilliant again as Rose – the lines written for her are great and Piper delivers them with conviction. Her culture shock by being surrounded by something so different is well portrayed, as is the Doctor’s concern for her. The scenes where she speaks with the maintenance worker and realises she doesn’t know who the Doctor is at all, and then insists on the Doctor telling her who he is are magnificent. And the way the Doctor makes up for his secrecy and Rose’s insecurity in the new environment by fixing her mobile so that she can call home is rather silly but charming and the joke at the end is well worth it. It’s a shame Rose spends quite a substantial amount of time stuck in a room about to be vaporised by pure sunlight, since she could have been used to uncover Cassandra’s plot rather then the unimaginative way it actually was uncovered. Finally, the reason for Rose understanding alien languages is well handled – a tip of the hat to the “Time Lord gift” mentioned in The Masque Of Mandragora. Thank God there wasn’t a Babel fish in sight!

Jabe is another interesting character and well acted. Her death was very touching and it was wise and noble of the director not to show us her charred remains. The initial greetings and gifts given by the various alien races are superb. Cuttings from Jabe’s grandfather, spitting by the Moxx, even the Doctor’s gift of air from his lungs, are inventive, relevant, funny and insightful. The line about the Titanic, though seemingly lifted from Robot, was great too.

The costumes, make-up, sets and effects glow with heaps of money being thrown at them. Once again the music was generally obtrusive and used poorly, especially during the spider scenes, where instead of the music complementing to their menace, actually made them rather cute and certainly less of a threat. 

Perhaps I just don’t shine to Russell T. Davies’ writing. Lots of people seem to have enjoyed The End Of The World and it certainly was fun. The third episode looks very promising, so I’m anticipating greater things to come! 4/10

Reprinted from somewhere or other in the treasure trove of mid-seventies-to-mid-nineties fan opinion that is License Denied, there's an article by a fella named Thomas Noonan entitled 'Television, Technique and Convention.' Discussing attempts made by the production team of season 18 to move the show in a more cinematic direction, Noonan argues that 'Doctor Who is (...) essentially television, and television is a medium between stage-drama and film', and suggests that 'efforts to make the programme more like film (are) misguided.' 

1980 was a long time ago, wasn't it. I mean, Rose Tyler wouldn't even have been born then! 

Jump-cut to Doctor Who 2005. To episode two of the brand new season, 'The End of the World', to one of the most thoroughly entertaining forty-five minutes of television I've seen in absolutely ages. To the only show I can think of since Roseanne in its heyday that's had me doubled over with laughter one minute and fighting back a little tear the next. I mean, yeah, I'm used to Doctor Who being this wonderful ... but it's unexpectedly shocking to see television being this wonderful! 

It's been my opinion for a while now that Doctor Who doesn't really need TV. Certainly that's where it started, and certainly that's what Doctor Who was to me when I was a kid. But having drifted away from Who fandom around the age of twelve, returned to it around the age of twenty-two and discovered that it was still going in the form of books (and to a lesser extent audio plays) that could go places and do things that the TV show never could have done, I've always been perfectly satisfied with Doctor Who as the offscreeen 'cult' thing it's been these past fifteen years; the 'long wait' posited by the heroic slogan emblazoned on the homepage of this very site never actaully existed for me, because until The Announcement, I neither thought Who would actually find its way back to the small screen, or harboured any particular desire to see it do so. For those of us who are already fans, there's no shortage of new and old stories in various media, and that's always been enough for me. 

But what I overlooked there, and what Andrew Wixon rather wisely pointed out after I said something to this effect on the Doctor Who Ratings Guide, is that TV - in this banal, degraded stage of its history where a Channel 4 announcer can in all seriousness refer to a repeat of the first episode of Sex and the City as 'the dawn of a legend', and where bloody Ant and Dec can be considered a viable alternative to anything other than self immolation - really, really needs Doctor Who. 

(erm, those weren't Andrew's exact words, by the way) 

And what makes Doctor Who great television in 2005 is precisely that movement towards filmic technique Noonan was railing against all those years ago. Seems to me that in - as the sturdy old adage has it - trying to keep up with Star Wars, the show was moving along the right lines all along. Misjudged that one, Tommy! 

Mind you, how was he to know what TV audiences would stop accepting with the passage of time. That - for example - the idea of a science-fiction/adventure serial made on videotape would become unthinkable little more than a decade hence. It'd certainly be true to say that though the show was right to fumble in the direction of a more filmic style throughout the eighties, the fact that it needed to do so was symptomatic of a major loss of imagination on the part of audiences. But, you know, you can't control circumstances, only your reaction to them. 

It's my view that in the latter seasons of the show's 'classic' run, the Cartmel/McCoy years, the primary factor which made the show work, where it did work, was the direction. Not that there hadn't been a lot of great direction in earlier periods of the show, but by the late eighties it was no longer, for want of a better phrase, an optional extra; the halfway-house narrative between stage-drama and film was on the road to obsolecence. 

Come 2005, the residual 'stage play' element of the particular variety of television to which Classic Doctor Who (?) belonged has long since become obsolete. Or certainly appears to have done so. Noonan's hybrid style persists only in sitcom and soap opera, presumably because those formats have allegedly realistic bases, and believing that that a well-lit set is a living room doesn't amount to as great a leap of faith for a viewer as believing that this other well-lit set is a time/space machine, and that the man in the rubber suit coming through the door is an alien from another world. For the purposes of New Who, television has become a form comprised of the basic essence of the old episodic format, and the techniques of filmic storytelling. In fact, what with so many fantasy/SF movie franchises coming either in trilogies or with sequel-whoring non-endings, the only real differences between 'adventure' film and 'adventure' television seem to come down to running time and budget. 

'Forty-five minute stories' sounded short, didn't it. I suggested way back when while reviewing season 22 that if Who were on screen now it would be in the form of self-contained one-hour stories. But even to me, knocking another fifteen minutes off that seemed to be pushing it. Matthew Harris (another DWRG chappie, still at a time when this was all just speculation in our crazy minds!) looked back for precedent and found... The Awakening and The Sontaran Experiment. Somewhat lacking. 

What I think we underestimated is the extent to which the variety of 'filmic TV' to which Who now belongs is a different animal from old-school televised Who. And also, the amazing malleability of a format which we fans constantly praise as being able to do anything, and then constantly criticise for not doing the exact things that each individual one of us want it to. Myself included, I'm sure. 

Character-driven Doctor Who? That's something which has worried a few fans in the reviews I've read since the series commenced (for readers of the future, I'm writing this one between the broadcast of episodes 3 and 4!). Only a minority, I should point out. 

But, well, why not! 'Character-driven' was the way it was going when it was last on screen with Ace's hijack of season 26; it was a prime factor in the success of the New Adventures; it was the thinking behind the generally well-received 'Caught on Earth arc' in the EDAs. The very title of the first episode, Rose, was a pretty good indicator that the new show has a rather different emphasis than before (as Lawrence Miles pointed out, it's like imagining Terror of the Autons being called Jo) - but in Rose, because of having to get all the introductory I'm-the-Doctor, this is the TARDIS stuff out the way, the mixing of character-based story (bored shop assistant in a rut gets a chance to go off on a wonderful adventure with a bloke she obviously fancies) with Who's customary morality play plot (desperate alien invades Earth) unavoidably became unbalanced and the Nestene suplot - for that was what it was - ended up wafer thin and hackneyed. 

Introductions are difficult. In a way, The End of the World is (oh the irony) the real beginning of this series. Doctor Who as character-driven drama and moral drama at the same time, Doctor Who as television and film at the same time. And the amazing thing is it's done utterly perfectly straight from the off. 

On the, admittedly scant, evidence so far - and isn't fun to be reviewing a TV episode without the easy crutch of hindsight -, the storytelling focus of this new Who season is weighted more or less equally between rather slimmed down variations on the indispensable Doctor-defeating-bad-guys template, and a cumulative character drama that will, I'd imagine, become the story formed by the season as a whole. 

The Doctor-defeating-bad-guys story in this episode is a silly, camp whodunnit in space. And I have to say... it was utterly, stupendously fab! Much closer to the tone of season 17 than I'd ever dare hoped this new series would be in its initial run, and the Lady Cassandra is a wickedly funny villain who could've come right from the pen of Paul Magrs, but with a brilliantly understated sense of underlying pathos too - a cheap shot at the extremes of cosmetic surgery and at the same time a sad, stretched portrait of the lengths we'll go to to resist the brevity of our existence. 

And did I mention funny - I was chuckling throughout, even at those things that have elicited a tut from certain fans; I laughed at the iPod gag, at 'Talk to the face!', at the 'old Earth ballad', at 'the... er... human club!' Okay, the 'When I was a little boy' gag was stolen from The Simpsons. It was, nevertheless, a huge, huge relief to me to find they'd remembered to make this new series funny. 

Funny, but - and this is the main point of resemblance to the Williams era - not to an outrageous extent that pees up against the fourth wall, not in a way that undercuts the believability of the drama. 

Not mrerely 'believable' drama either; this is that 'full-blooded' gubbins RTD was on about. The Doctor quickly making an emotional connection with Jabe and then losing her to Cassandra's cheap machinations is affecting stuff. His rage, and then his coldness as he stands by and allows Cassandra to die are thoroughly believable and perfectly performed. 

('Have pity!' - a deliberate evocation, for those in the know, of Davros' plea in Genesis?) 

Perhaps even more impressive, though, is Rose's quiet plea for the Doctor to help Cassandra. Two episodes in and I gleefully retract any doubts I ever had about Billie Piper. Despite everything the 'bitchy trampoline' has done, Rose can't simply stand by and watch another human being die, and Piper's delivery of the line really brings out that sense of naked, compassionate humanity. 

Oh great; now this page'll get a load of hits from people googling 'Billie Piper naked' 

Anyhow, a compassionate impulse has always been at the core of Doctor Who, and I'm glad that, even if it's being challenged (again), it's not being forgotten. 

Course, compassion is one thing. Love is another... 

The End of the World is a silly whodunnit, but it's also the second chapter of an love story that's set to progress as the series goes on. The love story of the Doctor and Rose. Oh, it'll stay between the lines - at least I shouldn't expect there'd be any of that 'hanky panky' the tabloids like to go on about. But it's shaping up as the spine of the series, and I must admit to finding it a bit moving - a fella who's been newly reconstructed as loneliest guy in the universe, taking to the interstitial road with a kindred spirit. The cool thing about this is that it works in subtle as well as overt ways - Rose's confusion and jealousy over Jabe's immediate bond with the Doctor ('You two go and pollinate') is obvious, her kidding-on-the-square reference to him as her 'date' is obvious, but other things only hit you when you think about it afterwards; could it be, for example, that the Doctor, who in this incarnation evidently isn't too good at the touchy-feely stuff, chooses to take Rose to see the end of her own planet for the very reason that it then makes it easier to tell her about the loss of his own? To make her understand by showing rather than telling? The Doctor is, after all, a man who can rely on showing things rather than talking about them. It's telling that he refuses to say what's outside those TARDIS doors at the beginning, eager for Rose to see for herself. Also, his angry 'This is me, right here, right now is what counts!' response when she questions who he is and where he's from suggests that a good part of his interest in seeing Rose enjoy the journey comes from a desire to escape from himself; to experience a sense of wonder again through her. Theres a hint, not overplayed and indeed often undercut, of this very romantic (by which I mean, Romantic) notion of the possibility of redemption though another person. 

"Perhaps a man only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left" says Jabe. 

"There's me", says Rose. 

Rusty is indeed a great scriptwriter - pluck lines out and mix them around, they still work. 

Speaking of scripting, the emphasis on the word 'alien' is interesting - it's used very liberally in this episode, as it was in Rose, and moreso than at any time I can recall in the show's past. There's an episode coming up called Aliens of London, so I'd guess this is going somewhere. Rose actually used the phrase 'The end of the world' in that first episode when the Auton attack began, which for me adds to a nice sense of threads running in and out across stories, even if obliquely. 

What makes it all work so well, though, what binds old elements and new seamlessly together, is that filmic style I was on about. In traditional televisual terminology, (bloody hell, I sound like Henry Gordon Jago), the original run of Doctor Who was indeed a 'show'. New Who is, by contrast, an Experience; look at the number of POV shots we get from Rose's perspective, then try to remember any similiar use of the camera in the original series. The jumbled, random-looking shot of all the aliens mingling, for example, which brilliantly represents Rose's disorientation. Think of the shot we see of Rose's mum from inside the washing machine, something we'd be remembering as the height of creative direction if it had happened in the middle of Terror of the Autons or something. Compare the scuttling spider-droids to the Cybermats or the Marsh Spiders... the development of CGI, of course, means that special effects of a quality corresponding reasonably well to those of movies are now available on an - albeit inflated - TV budget (and though its fashionable among the more discerning of us geeks to diss CGI for not 'keeping it real' or whatever, let's not forget that the development of that facility is what, more than anything, has allowed Who to get back on screen at all). 'Tainted Love' and Britney Spear's 'Toxic' are used in the episode for laughs, but even then, the editing is so slickly, tightly done that the lyrics don't just waft off, they match what's going on onscreen ('Sometimes I feel I want to get away', 'There's no escape'). The bit with the Doctor gearing himself up and stepping through that fan blade is pure cinema; or more accurately, pure Star Wars. When the Doctor takes Rose back to present-day London we don't go through all the rigmarole of going back to the TARDIS, materialising on Earth and so on. Rather, we cut straight there and get a far more powerful emotional hit from the sudden contrast. None of this remarkable in terms of current day TV and movies, of course, but it's striking because we've never seen a Doctor Who narrative done this way. 

And it is genuinely powerful. Plot complexity may of necessity be lessened, but - and I don't say this merely glibly - you can't have everything. The End of the World has a thoroughly enjoyable story with characters we care about. If it sets the tone for the rest of the series I'll be more than happy, and the only other TV Who stories I can recall ending on such raw, alive emotional notes are The Curse of Fenric and Survival ... hmm, both in the last televised season; in some ways TV Who is picking up right where it left off. 

In others, of course, it's leaping into a whole new realm altogether. But in retrospect it's a place it's been heading to from, ooh, at least The Leisure Hive onward. Big screen storytelling on the small screen. 'Fits and starts' doesn't begin to cover the bumpy journey here but now, finally, it's totally at home with that fusion. 

And now, finally, I know what I'm paying my license fee for... 

Slightly trivial afterword: I do hope episode three doesn't open with the Doctor and Rose eating chips and then heading straight off to the 19th century. Remember, all this has happened for Rose on the same day she went to meet Clive - - - the girl needs sleep!

This episode was certainly an improvement on the slapdash opener although I was less enamoured to Eccleston’s portrayal this time round: seemingly an alien setting heightened the Doctor’s compulsion to assert his earthly bloke-ish mannerisms and worryingly contemporary, slangy vernacular. When he told the delegates to ‘chill’ in one scene I felt a shudder of awkwardness go through me. Maybe I’m old-fashioned and too mindful of the classic Who portrayals but I really don’t feel such every day-style language suits the character. It also detracts from his alienness. It is also an irony as so far this Doctor seems to demonstrate that, despite hanging around a lot on Earth, he is actually a bit of a misanthrope – which I think is an interesting development of the character and harks back to Hartnell’s original incarnation. The contempt of this last Timelord for Cassandra the last human, at the end, contrasts sharply with his far more diplomatic attitude to the Nestene in Rose. This is very interesting and his line ‘everything has an end’ and the Earth’s ‘time’s up’ and thus his flat refusal to save either the last human or her dying planet smack of the hair-shirt amorality of Tom Baker’s early interpretation of the role and at least offers a challenge to the audience as well as thankfully adding to the Doctor’s alienness which is essential to the series. But I still feel this Doctor’s casual, ‘average bloke’ vernacular (and appearance) detracts from these better qualities to this incarnation. There’s obviously nothing wrong about having a more working class version of the character – arguably about time – with a noticeable regional accent, but as long as this does not hamper articulation and gravitas. Eccleston has facial/physical gravitas but his moody glowering is not quite enough: we need more in the way of vocal gravitas, such as Tom Baker most memorably demonstrated.

The aliens were well realised, particularly the Face of Boe (sadly underused) and Moxx of Balhoon (equally underused). The other aliens I felt were nothing better than those seen in stories such as 1972’s Curse of Peladon, with which this story has obvious similarities (group of alien delegates etc.) and which is in my opinion infinitely superior in every sense, and Curse was not even a particularly brilliant story either. I cringed as the (admittedly wittily/well-acted though ludicrously Star Trek-esque blue-faced) controller announced ‘Trees’ as if this could pass as a convincing name/concept for an alien race. Oh but they’re not actually alien are they? Jabe is a direct descendant of the Tropical rainforests – where did this idea come from RTD? Perhaps Trees realised more along the lines of Tolkein’s Elks or even the superbly realised tree demon from the otherwise appalling serial ‘Strange’ would have been more convincing than three Star Trek rejects who are obviously wearing make up. When one remembers the excellent Draconians from as far back as 1973 this puts these new additions to shame.

I suffered the Cringes (or even Scringes) from several almost JNT-esque ‘awkward moments’ (remember those peppering every McCoy episode circa S.24/25?): the Doctor doing his bizarre ‘breathing’ introductions to sundry aliens; the Moxx spitting; but most of all, and I’m surprised how little has been made of this by reviewers so far, the frankly unforgivable gimmick of Cassandra’s jukebox inflictions! That in the year 5 Billion some pop music might be regarded as classical is nothing too far-fetched in itself, but why O WHY O WHY O WHY should it be these particular two tracks, and why from this era, and why more specifically one from this very year 2005 as opposed to the eons passing before this episode is set? So RTD inflicts his record tastes on us with Tainted Love – the Doctor bopping to it was utterly embarrassing – even more so than McCoy burbling jazz into a microphone in Happiness Patrol, and that was embarrassing enough! However, I could have stomached this intrusion into the episode had it been all – but no, the production team couldn’t resist being ultra-contemporary and, instead of playing a single which is vaguely bearable in quality, they choose the atrocious Toxic from the equally atrocious Britney Spears! For me, this practically destroyed any credibility this episode might have otherwise possessed. This is even more unashamed than the contemporary sculpted haircuts visible in RTD’s other series Casanova. Both are equally incongruous in their settings of future and past respectively. No one surely, even in 5 Billion, would consider anything produced by Britney Spears to be anything other than throwaway rubbish. RTD missed a great opportunity here: he could have played anything, an era-defining song from The Beatles, even Imagine by Lennon, something truly classic and thus potential classical in the future. I suppose it could have been worse: he could have played a Robbie Williams song. But this intrusion, nay imposition, into the episode makes the jazz score playing over a shot of space in Silver Nemesis comparatively poetic. Yes, The Chase had a cut from The Beatles’ Ticket to Ride, which was then also a contemporary gimmick, but at least that was a good song. In Three Doctors, Jo recites some lyrics from I Am The Walrus – but not only is this cited about six years after it was released as a single, it was also picking up on a lyric/song embedded in the public consciousness for its seminal quality as, again, an era- defining piece by an era-defining band. Britney Spears’ Toxic does not define an era – it only defines a forgettable, overly commercial ‘moment’ in a pop vacuum. Frankly RTD’s choice could hardly have been worse.

Onto the plot: well, there isn’t much of one really is there? A standard who-dunnit with a less than interesting conclusion. Zoe Wannamaker voices Cassandra expertly and has some fairly good lines here and there, though a bit too tongue-in-cheek, but unfortunately her character is completely undermined by the fact that, although the idea ofa stretched piece of skin bla bla bla is quite unusual, she cannot possibly exist as she has no lungs, heart, brain etc. The concept is thus rendered ludicrous; a vague abstract fancy which should have had more thought put into its realisation in order to make it convincing. I did notice on second viewing some sort of blue glass tank at the base of her metal frame – perhaps this is her cerebral cortex/life support system? If so, it should have been mentioned in the script. What is, again, clumsy, unimaginative and absurd is to actually have her announced as Cassandra O’Brien! Couldn’t RTD have thought up a slightly more imaginative and impressive surname – or is he deliberately going for a mundane-sounding one? If so, why?

Apart from the oft-mentioned giant fans and the 'silly place to put an off-switch' platform design etc. why on earth does the space station have switches to turn off the sun-filter? In what event would this be used exactly, except a mass suicide? Of course these filter scenes are reminiscent of Dragonfire too.

The robotic spiders look very derivative to me - wasn't there something similar in the atrocious Lost in Space film? They were ok but still looked like computer graphics as all computer graphics do. And what the heck was an ordinary tea mug doing on an alien's desk? Had one of the camera crew left it there accidentally after a tea break?

The idea about the National Trust restoring the Earth to its former continental glory is potentially quite good but is rendered absurd by the fact that such a project would have surely involved the charity changing its name to the International Trust – which would have been a more imaginative semantic alteration which would allude rather than clumsily spell out a contemporary name we recognise; again RTD’s obsession with contemporary Earth/UK references all the time!!! He does not have to graphically spell things out to us like this – a bit of subtlety Mr Davies, please, and imagination too, just examine the scripts of Robert Holmes to learn this. For example, RTD’s National Trust reference is the equivalent of Holmes calling the cleverly implied Inner Retinue (The Sun Makers) by its real life satirical target, the Inland Revenue!!! That would have sounded ludicrous wouldn’t it? Well if RTD had taken a leaf out of Holmes’ book, he would have come up with a subtler allusion as Inner Retinue, such as, as I suggested, the International Trust. The concept of the whole Earth being restored by the National Trust of one tiny island nation is utterly laughable and completely implausible. RTD’s terrestrialisation, nay, Anglicisation of the Who mythology is clumsy, unimaginative and sloppy. The series needs much more subtlety – or are modern viewers really as cretinous as modern programme makers would like to think they are?

The pace of the episode was ok, a little rushed in places, with a pointlessly long scene between Rose and the blueberry plumber. Mind you, this scene was slightly reminiscent of the old series – I could have imagined Ace having this conversation too. The scenes between the Doctor and Rose are reasonably well-handled and scripted, but I still feel a little too much emphasis is put on Rose (as was done with Ace) at the expense of developing the Doctor. Should the series perhaps be renamed ‘Rose…Oh, and the bloke in the leather jacket’? Piper is a credible actor though, I admit, and her character is believable and three-dimensional so far, so that’s something I suppose. But I’m frankly more concerned about the Doctor – I’m not a fan of companions particularly (for me the best were Tegan and Turlough (circa S.20), as they were more three-dimensional characters than the rest) and would prefer a Deadly Assassin-style solo Doctor who has different companions in different stories.

The revelations about Gallifrey (though it is not mentioned by name, as the Autons weren’t either) is pointless: with a TARDIS the Doctor can presumably go back to the Timelords anyway if he wants – though possibly by their very definition, the Timelords cease to exist throughout all of time if destroyed in one part of it!?). I don’t actually mind the idea of the Doctor being the last of the Timelords as it re-emphasizes the solitary nature of the character. However, if this new precocious development in the series aims to detract emphasis from the Doctor’s origins, I predict it is already showing signs of doing the opposite, as witnessed in some protracted scenes on the subject in this story. Having said this, the theme of the Doctor now being ‘homeless’ (though as an exile he always was anyway) was nicely juxtaposed with a Big Issue vendor in the last scene.

Certainly the series has some way to go, this Doctor certainly has ‘something’ about him and could potentially be every bit as good as his predecessors (bar, I predict, Tom Baker and Patrick Troughton, with whom, ironically, the Ninth has most in common) and End of the World was, despite its impeachable embarrassments, a significant improvement on Rose and in places, much more reminiscent of the original series. But it is still only good enough to rank alongside the more mediocre stories in the original canon in terms of scripting; I would say End of the World ranks alongside stories such as Dragonfire, Mindwarp, Creature from the Pit, you know, that sort of mediocre space opera style of the old series - it also detectably has a few elements in common with satires like The Sunmakers, but its thin script doesn't compare to Holmesian standards by a long shot. This story, ultimately, is acceptable, with a few good scenes/visuals/lines, but is still severely depleted in terms of credibility by its ill-thought-out terrestrial allusions and Britney Spears intrusion.

There is a problem faced by all critics at some point during their writing career, a dilemma which is especially prevalent to those of us under the self-delusion of ‘objectivity’; What do you do when you see something of such outstanding quality that making any criticism of it becomes no more than a futile gesture? Suddenly you’re panic stricken, trying to find something, anything, to pull apart so you might live up to your highbrow ideals. But as an exercise in pedantry its best if you don’t bother because there are some shows that deserve all the shameless plaudits and backslapping that they can get. And Doctor Who; The End of the World is one of them.

Many people may think this sentiment typical of a fan, a person who watches a 35 year-old story about giant maggots and calls it a “classic”. But I am more than a fan of Doctor Who, I am a fan of television. It is as a modern piece of TV that I have chosen to sit down to watch these stories and it is as a modern piece of TV that this story succeeds so brilliantly.

Mixing liberal amounts of humour, wonder, emotion and excitement in the big ol’ mixing bowl of imagination this story succeeds on so many levels. Where else but in Doctor Who would the idea of an Earth preserved and run by the National Trust get past the planning stages? Where else would we be treated to living trees, disembodied heads, metal spiders and spitting blue solicitors all in the same story? Add to this some slightly psychic paper and a slightly psychotic paper-cut of a villain and we see with perfect clarity that Doctor Who still has the wit, charm and imagination that etched it into the public psyche.

Whereas in the pilot, ‘Rose’, I found the humour nearly overwhelming the story here I thought it better balanced, complimenting the action rather than clashing with it. Part of the reason that the humour works so well is the sheer other-worldliness of its setting. With the laughs based mainly around the culture shock experienced by Rose we are less inclined to question why we are laughing or how silly it all is (and it is all rather silly, isn’t it?) because we are already suspending our disbelief.

There are several laugh-out-loud moments in this story that really hit the mark. Of particular note is the rather risquй aside from Cassandra when she tells Rose of the time “when I was a little boy,..” that had me rolling on the floor. Another belly laugh came from the Doctor’s phone bill quip and Cassandra’s put down of the Moxx of Balhoon was so delightfully vicious that you couldn’t help but chuckle.

RTD’s quirky sense of humour shines through and there is a great sense that the series isn’t taking itself too seriously as a result. When we are challenged head on with a well-known sci-fi clichй (a fix-all switch behind some deadly fans!) it’s as if the production crew are sharing a private joke with us in a little knowing wink.

We can see the antithesis of this jollity in the dreadfully mis-judged Star Trek; Enterprise, where self reverence, a stern adherence to style, format and the colour grey left things without any real sense of fun. Happily, based on the evidence of these first two episodes, it is not destined to be the case with Doctor Who.

It’s partially the heavier material, juxtaposed with this wit, which makes this episode such an enjoyable experience. Creating the effect of a roller-coaster ride we are confronted with ironic and hilarious pastiches on modern pop culture (an iPod?!) before being thrown a tragic curve ball as we discover the root of the Doctors loneliness. This creates a journey for the audience that, even with a relatively thin plot, is both fulfilling and rewarding. The dramatic scenes are such a marked contrast to the jovial nature of the whole that they become much more powerful as a result. So too the comedy lightens the mood enough that you don’t spend the episode in tears. It is a fine line to walk but the balance is just perfect in this story.

Once again the writer and stars of the piece deserve the most praise. Davies script is of an order far higher than we usually see on modern TV, balancing all the right ingredients and having a good time with the resulting cake. Small moments, such as Rose being heartened by the idea that there are still plumbers in the future, are worth their weight in gold and even superfluous characters, such as the aforementioned plumber, are fleshed out enough for you to care about them. Also the scenes of high emotion are written softly enough for them to be brought to life by the quality of the performances themselves. There is always a danger for these to be bogged down in dialogue and it’s a testament to Davies that these moments are given time to breathe. Notice how, in the saddest moment of the episode, as Jabe comforts the Doctor in the maintenance tunnel, he doesn’t say a single word. That’s superior writing.

Russell’s aim to keep the series anchored in humanity is also cleverly handled. For all its alien science fiction The End of the World still remains humanitarian story. It is essentially all about the importance of the Earth and our need to have a place to call home and as a moral message it is kept just far enough to the side so as not to become preachy. Children may watch this story for the wonder and excitement but somewhere in there they’ll catch that message and run with it. “One day all this will be gone so appreciate it and look after it while you can. But be we can survive it all, so put aside your petty worries”. These are the two parables that Russell cleverly smuggles into the story and I can’t think of two more worthy messages for primetime TV to be giving.

As for our two co-stars, once again Ecclestone and Piper shine as The Doctor and Rose, however while it was Billie who shone brightest in Episode 1 it is Chris who steals the show here. The Doctor seems to be very much ‘in his element’ for a lot of this episode, ready to meet and greet strange aliens or to save his companion from a severe case of sunburn with equal gusto. Ecclestone captures this spirit of adventure and eccentricity perfectly but it is not this that makes his performance so memorable this time around. Returning again to the scene in maintenance tunnel, we are shown why Chris is lauded as one of the greatest British actors working today. He literally brings a tear to the eye as he receives Jabe’s sympathy and his reveal to Rose at the end is one of the greatest, and most heartbreaking, scenes of television I’ve seen all year.

As for Billie, Rose finally gets into some believable jeopardy and Piper handles it brilliantly. At no point do we find the character as limp and helpless as many of her predecessors but her panic at her impending death still kept me on the edge of my seat. She is one of a very rare breed of Doctor Who companion who you feel for as a person and it is down to Billie’s dazzling performance that I’ve warmed to Rose so much. The moment where she realises what she has just done, running off with the Doctor, is excelled only by her brilliant reassurance to him that “there’s me” at the end. Her lament at the un-witnessed death of the planet is also handled brilliantly, helped by Davies’ thoughtful scripting.

The other supporting characters are played with equal relish by those involved but special mention must go to Yasmin Bannerman and Zoe Wannamaker. They created very unique characters in situations that may have left other actresses giving wooden (I’m so sorry) or two dimensional performances (so very, very sorry).

The production on The End of the World was superb throughout. The choice to use a location for the observation deck rather than a studio made it seem more solid than it might otherwise have been. It also provided inspiration for the other sets, giving Platform One a unique feel instead of creating just another generic Sci-fi space station. The design throughout was excellent, creating a plush and believable environment for all concerned to inhabit and creating a varied and imaginative assortment of alien races, all of which were superbly realised

As for the effects, this was the episode when The Mill really showed what they were capable of. The CG and other effects were stunning and so far beyond what has become expected of British sci-fi that you wonder just how much of the series budget was handed to them for this story. While the exterior shots of the station amaze it is the Spiders that The Mill should be most proud of. As well as looking the part they were animated with a sense of mass that made them particularly believable. In fact the only time the effect fell down was at the end when the Doctor put one on the floor but this was just one shot of many of which the majority worked flawlessly.

With television stations across the board mired in the drab day to day of Reality TV and Lifestyle programmes, this one story is really going to open some eyes. Where ‘Rose’ was the introduction, bridging the gap between the mundane and the potential, this is the first story to deliver on RTD’s promise that the new Who is ‘like nothing else on TV’. And how! Great scripting, great effects and great performances have conspired to create possibly the greatest single piece to Science Fiction/fantasy that I’ve seen in the last three years. Where there may be diehard fans quibbling over the smaller details and boycotting the series as a result (Gallifrey dead?!?!?!? Get over it) they really will be missing out on something quite special. This series is taking the programme forward into what can only be seen as a bright future and I for one will be along for the ride.

Five out of five, Doctor.