Still not sure, exactly, why Pip and Jane are so maligned by fandomn. 

Okay, "Time and the Rani" was pretty bad in spots (though still not half as bad as some of the other "duds" the series has produced now and again), but their other submissions to the series are actually quite strong. And, in all honesty, I can see why JNT turned to them as often as he did during this highly tumultous time. The bottom line is, they're fairly solid writers. 

And "Terror of the Vervoids" is a pretty good example of this. Even though it's probably my least favourite story in the Trial of a Time Lord season, it's still a damned good one.

Okay, the dialogue is a bit overblown in places and we practically need a thesaurus in order to follow along with some of the dialogue. But I can think of plenty of authors who do this in Who. It's actually part of what I like about the show. It has seriously enriched my vocabulary over the years because the scriptwriters weren't afraid to give the actors some real mouthfuls sometimes. So, really, to bitch about Pip and Jane doing this is pretty silly. I could find you some pretty overblown stuff from the great Robert Holmes without having to look too hard. So let's get off the poor Bakers' back about it, already, okay? 

Now, rather than address the sillines of fandomn's tastes, let's get into the story proper. It's a nice little premise, of course and the parallells between it and "Murder On the Orient Express" are obvious enough (and I'm pretty sure we all got it without the shot of the book sitting on the table but it was still nice touch). The characters are also well-suited to a murder mystery premise. Although I did find the actual execution by the actors playing Lasky and Rudge to be a bit "off". Honor Blackman just doesn't seem to have the prescence of her "dragon lady" personae "down" right. And I feel that Rudge needed to, perhaps, "bumble" a bit more to convey that he's a bit on the incompetent side. Although, once he shows his true colours, I did feel his performance improved.

The direction of the storyline works pretty good, overall, and Chris Clough does a good job with what he's given (which he does in all the stories he directed). Even with the budget increased because of the episodes being reduced, the classic series was still never given enough money to achieve all the proper visuals. So Clough is smart enough to not dwell too hard on certain sequences whereas he puts a nice chunk of the budget into that opening shot of the Hyperion III and gives us a very nice first impression of the third case in the trial because of that shot. He also put some nice work into the Vervoid costumes (even if we do see a jumpsuit or two) and their death sequence looked quite impressive. I'm still not exactly sure how he got all those leaves to turn colours at once! 

The biggest drawback that I feel this story suffers from is one that happened in a few mid-80s Who tales. There are, perhaps, just a few too many plot strands going on here. We've got murder, hijacking and killer plants all weaving in and out of each other a bit too much at once. It's just a bit on the prepostorous side to have so much going on in the plot and it stretches credulity a tad too far because of it. Although, in its defense, too much plot is always better than too little. But still, I just find it hard to believe that so much can happen on just one flight of a ship! But that's really my biggest gripe.

There are, of course, some silly inconsistencies like the whole "key upside down" sequence but they're hardly worth getting "up in arms" about. Sillier things have happened in a Who story. And some of the clever things like the Mogarian translator not switching on makes up for any of these smaller problems quite nicely.

The trial going on outside of the Hyperion storyline is getting quite interesting by this point. We now see that the Doctor definitely believes the Matrix is being falsified and even suspects who's up to it. And the charge being changed at the end of the final episode is a nice little twist and a good way to finish the whole story off with a bit of a bang. Some very well-achieved scenes. But then, I loved the trial scenes throughout this season so it's a bit of a bias, really! 

So, not a whole lot of problems with this story in my book. A bit too "busy" plot-wise and a few minor problems with some of the acting but this really is another fairly well-told story from Pip and Jane Bakers' pen. So, once again, gang: What is the big problem with the Bakers? I think they did the show quite good, overall.

As usual, the reviews I read in here really surprise me sometimes. After having heard so much fan-bashing of this particular yarn, I'm amazed so many of you actually stood up for it here. 

I try to be of two legitimate minds regarding Silver Nemesis. I try to see the flaws so many critics have pointed out regarding this story and, at the same time, see all the fun and enjoyment there is out of just sitting back and enjoying the adventure. I fail miserably at the "seeing the flaws" aspect of the equation and just enjoy this story for what it is. An action tale that actually plays out pretty good. 

Yes, the weather is inaccurate for November. Yes, the humour is a bit hackneyed in places. Yes, it tries too hard to just play up being a "25th anniversary tale" (the whole "25th anniversary schtick" never sat well with me - I really preferred it when the show just celebrates the decades and that's it). I can see all that. I can even see the Cyberman not being able to hit the side of a barn in that one scene where Ace runs off. 

But still, overall, I really think this is a pretty good story. A bit weak by the standards of most the McCoy stories, but still pretty damned good overall. 

Obviously, the action sequences are some of the best parts. With the "Mexican stand-off" with Ace and the three Cybermen at the end being truly magnificent stuff that really re-inforces Ace as one of the great sci-fi heroines of the ages. In the old, sexist world of Who, this would have been either the Doctor or a male companion handling this. So great that it's a teenaged girl instead! 

The "deeper mysteries" that the story dwells upon are another excellent strongpoint to this story. The hints made about the Doctor's origins in "Remembrance" are so bloody subtle that you really almost don't catch them. It was nice for the mystery of the Doctor to get played up as much as it does in this story. Although I just stated a paragraph or two back that I wasn't a big fan of the whole "25th anniversary motif" that they were going for in this season, I do like that part of this plan was to re-invent the Doctor's past again and change him back into a bit of an enigma. And the emphasis on this in Nemisis is strong. It is still a bit of a crying shame that the "Cartmel Masterplan" could not be completed onscreen. "Lungbarrow" was an okay read but I would have liked to have seen at as a T.V. episode.

Next, we have the "players in the game" for the Silver Nemesis. The Nazis are a tad wooden (but then, Nazis would be, wouldn't they?) but I really enjoyed Peinforte and even the extremely gold-vulnerable Cybermen. The way the Doctor plays them off each other and manipulates them to his ultimate goals (he knew that Peinforte absorbing herself into the Nemesis would get the Validium to destroy the fleet even though the Cybermen cancelled his orders - did you catch that?) shows off, again, just how truly deadly he is as the "cosmic chess player". And shows it off in a different way than he did in Remembrance. By the way, in my book, there are enough differences in these two tales to say they're not entirely the same even though some of you love to harp on this idea. To me, the reason why there are so many similiarities between the two is because the Doctor wanted to set some things up that would "take a good chunk" out of his two worst enemies. And he knew that to entice them with some highly powerful Gallifreyan artefacts would be the best way to do it. And I can't believe how many of you love to bitch about these two stories resembling each other. Re-watch Season eight and see how each story is just the Master tampering with something he can't truly control, almost getting destroyed by it at the end and the Doctor steps in and saves the day on the spin of a coin! This was five stories in a row, more or less, plotted exactly the same. Why do I never hearing bitching about this?! 

Anyway, I digress. There are many truly wonderful moments in this story where I find myself in "geek paradise". The Cybermen hearing jazz on the transmitter, Ace and the Doctor stopping to enjoy the jazz themselves', the glorious moment where the Doctor "plays chess" with the Cybermen and activates Nemisis with the bow and then charges off. Those are just to name a few. But, what stops this story from being a true classic like Remembrance is that it also "clangs" quite badly in places too. The Nazis not bothering to see if the bow is still in the box being one of the worst ones. A bit reminiscent of Guy Crawford and the eyepatch in "Android Invasion"! 

Overall, I consider this a story with some very "classic moments" in it that don't quite come together properly enough to give it the rank of a "classic story". But, by no means do I consider it "shite" like some of the others on this page have!

In comparison to the other stories involving the Doctor on Gallifrey, this one is the weakest of them all. And that's probably what causes it to leave such a bitter taste in most of fandomn's mouth. But if we view this story on its own merits, it's really not so bad. 

It's got a decent little plot structure to it. Two different events at very different locations eventually entwine in a somewhat clever way. Very stereotypical Davison era-type stuff. It's got an old villain coming back with a new twist to him. It's even got a nice foreign location that doesn't actually slow down the plot too much in order to show off that the crew went to a foreign location (sorry folks, but some of those scenes in "City Of Death" of walking and/or running through Paris could've stood a bit of trimming!). It's got quite a few nice things going for it. So why, then, does "Arc of Infinity" get panned as much as it does? 

For me, the biggest problem of this story is the techno-babble. There's just a bit too much of it, really. With barely enough explanation given to what all the babble actually means. For instance, we have all these vague references to molecular bonding with the Doctor. It almost sort of happens in Part One. It's what keeps the Doctor alive through Part Three. But then, suddenly, in Part Four, Omega just seems to do it all on his own. How exactly does that work? I suppose, with a bit of imagination, one could theorise that the bonding process needs the Doctor alive as a sort of "master copy" for Omega to work from. But it's never properly explained. And, though there have been some other stories where ideas where not given full explanations (ie: "Warriors Gate" or "Ghost Light"), this seems to come across more as lazy writing than creative effort. Now add to this seven or eight other "techno-babblic" ideas being thrown out all over the place and we really find ourselves wondering if perhaps Johnny Byrne just didn't feel like getting bogged down with too much of a real plot. And that, everytime he got stuck, he just came up with a pseudo-science of some sort in order to work around the problem. The "pulse loop" in episode four being a great example of this. We get the vaguest idea of how it works. But it really should have just been called "A piece of techno-babble I made up in order to get the Doctor off Gallifrey without Omega knowing". It would have been just as effective of a name. 

This problem persists throughout the story. No proper explanations get offered anywhere, really. How exactly did Omega gain control of the Matrix? Or the Arc of Infinity, for that matter? How was Hedin able to use Borussa's code to get the Doctor's bio-data extract? Again, we can fill in the gaps using our imaginations but when I find myself doing that as much as I do in this story, I can't help but think that maybe the writing is a bit weak instead. And this remains my biggest problem with this tale. 

Some weaker, more "niggly" negative points would be Gallifrey's new sense of interior design. Personally, I loved the way things looked in "Deadly Assassin" and "Invasion of Time" and though I can appreciate a need to "re-vamp" things slightly, they went a bit too far and made the interiors look far too radically different from what they used to look like. It's a minor point, I know. But it always "puts me off a bit" when I watch this story. 

My other minor complaint would be Borussa. In this incarnation, he doesn't seem at all like any of his predecessors or his successor. Is this the fault of the writing or the directing or the acting? I can't be sure. But, to me, this just doesn't seem like the Borussa we've seen before or after. Might have been better to just have an entirely different Lord President and have Borussa still on council. I know this could work to the detriment of "The Five Doctors" but it would have made it a bit easier, I think, for the fans to digest in this story. This just doesn't seem like the Borussa we know. Although, at least, his harsh decision to kill the Doctor heralds his growing sense of corruption. So, it's a bit of foreshadowing, I suppose. Mind you, I doubt this was done intentionally. 

Now, before I go too far into the criticism, there are some things about this story I like. Part Four is an especially strong episode. Yes, the chase scenes are somewhat gratuitous and show off the Amsterdam scenery quite a bit. But, at least, it remains an interesting chase. Different things happen along the way to keep us involved. Had it just been shot after shot of Omega running down a street and then the Doctor and his companions running down the same street a moment later, I would feel entirely different on the matter. But with all the different incidents happening along the way, the sequence seems justified. And even quite enjoyable. And, of course, Omega's stop at the organ grinder is very touching. Much praise has been given already to Davison for his portrayal of this moment, I'll heap on some more. It really seems as though this is not the same man we see chasing along after himself a moment later. And, though Doctor Five is not quite my favourite, I do consider Peter Davison to be probably the most talented actor to have taken on the role. And this moment is one of the more shining examples of his talent. Though there are many more...

The character of Omega, himself, is another really great strength to this story. Changing his appearance was not just good for plot expediency, it was very symbolic of who he had become. The ranting maniac of "The Three Doctors" was still buried deep within the character. But the tragic element of his tragic hero personality was played up one hundred percent. We almost can't really call him a villain. He's just a man who has become consumed with trying to get back home. And the obcession has made him so unreasonable that he's willing to abandon any morals he may have once had. The "poor unfortunate wretch" dialogue that's spoken after he passes on is truly befitting of our sentiment for him. We're glad to see the world saved but sad to see how the man threatening it was sacrificed. An excellent sense of pathos. I loved it. 

Overall, this story rises just a bit above mediocre - but not much. Which is another thing that works so much against it when you view it in context of the rest of this series. Not only is the weakest of all the "Gallifrey-bound" stories, but it was also the opener for the 20th anniversary season. And it causes the season to start off with a fizzle rather than a bang. Still, as I said before, view it on its own merits and it's not so bad. Even quite good, in places!

Peter Grimwade’s three scripts for Doctor Who are all commendably ambitious. He was always a better director than he was a writer though and it’s only really on Mawdryn Undead that this ambition actually translates into a coherent story, even if it’s only coherent relative to stories like Time-Flight, which is a bit like watching a rabbit trip over its own ears. On the whole, while never quite escaping his tendency to overreach himself, Grimwade serves up a very enjoyable story in Mawdryn Undead.

Some things are notable right from the start, such as the sheer anachronism of the school, presenting us with the kind of peculiar kids you could imagine say things like “yah” and have names like Chipper Jones and Tubby McGee. I’m not sure if they actually do wear straw boater hats or if my memory is just playing tricks on me, but it’s that sort of thing. With this and a reference to the cane, it’s easy to forget that this is supposed to take place in 1983 and I wonder if contemporary audiences found this is odd as I do. It does provide us with Turlough though, possibly the best companion of the 1980s after Romana, since Mark Strickson has the enviable talent of presenting ham in a credible manner, the kind that Anthony Ainley could only dream about. It’s amusing how the producer jettisoned portraying him being of schoolboy age more or less from the instant he leaves the school, and it’s also an innovative idea to have a companion spend three stories secretly plotting to kill the Doctor.

Without knowing anything about the character at this early stage though, the episode gets off to a rather less than likeable start with Paddy Kingsland’s ridiculous score and Peter Moffatt’s purely functional direction, but the crash soon comes along to make things more interesting – even if it is shot as a comedy scene, with the car veering off screen to an accompanying sound-effect. It introduces Valentine Dyall, who excels in more or less the only role available to him. He’s restricted as an actor since his booming voice is only really suitable for quasi-deities, but he works very well within his limited range. 

The fact that he’s here at all does raise the issue of continuity, but I can say that I saw this story years before I saw anything of season 16 and I never had a problem with it. If continuity is a problem in this story, it’s more through sheer quantity than anything else. The story certainly wears its continuity on its sleeves, with references to the previous story Snakedance (I know it only transmitted a week earlier, but is all the technobabble really necessary?), the Guardians, the Zero Room, UNIT and the Brigadier, copious ex-companions, Time Lord mythology – and of course the flashback scene, which I’ll come to in due course. It just about manages to succeed through keeping most of these references fairly unobtrusive (apart from the Brigadier, but he’s well known enough for it not to matter); it’s only in Arc Of Infinity that continuity is actually seriously detrimental at any point this season.

Episode one concerns itself with atmosphere through imagery such as the obelisk, the communicator device and the transmat capsule. With this, the large amount of location shooting and the pleasantly-designed spaceship, this is one of the better looking stories of the period. Once the TARDIS lands there the mystery starts to build, with the three-millennia journey and mysteriously missing capsule, but the enigmatic idea starts to falter as the Doctor’s investigations are largely reduced to pushing buttons and going “a-ha!”. It’s still enjoyable though, and there are plenty of gruesome ideas present about the dangers of transmat capsules. The cliffhanger to the first episode is serviceable enough, but the kind of thing that would get rather tired after three stories where writers had to continually come up with reasons for Turlough not to kill the Doctor.

The Brigadier’s amnesia serves as an excuse for the fannish-but-sweet flashbacks, and I have to acknowledge enjoying seeing clips from The Web Of Fear, Terror Of The Zygons et al for a moment. This episode is where the plot really begins to take off now, as two different strands set six years apart advance the story in tandem; it’s an awesome context and considering how complex it is there are remarkably few plot holes – apart from the infamous controversy over the dates, but it’s not so bad if you judge the episode on its own terms instead of comparing it to something said in an episode dated ten years previously, and to put things in perspective there are no disembodies heads stuck in paving stones anywhere to be seen in this story. Another feature of the plot is that it requires so much concentration that it distracts from some of the story’s slight weaknesses, such as the way the plot comes at the expense of just about everything else – the opposite problem to the new series, where it’s characterisation that takes away from the plot.

Mawdryn’s blackened and charred body is about as graphic and grisly as Doctor Who ever got, and his make-up is also impressive; it would all count for naught if David Collings wasn’t a great actor, but as The Robots Of Death proved there’s nothing to worry about on that front. There’s a less obtrusive nod to the past having him wear Tom Baker’s coat, and the cliffhanger where we see his true form for the first time is genuinely startling.

Going into the third episode, there’s a huge amount of exposition. This isn’t necessarily a problem as generally it’s well done and interesting enough to remain engaging, although lines like “activate sequential regression” do show up the weaker elements of the script. There is a “reverse the polarity” in-joke to be found, which does add a welcome lighter touch. It has all the elements of a bad story – but the sheer imagination of the central concept elevates it to a far higher level. The concept of the two Brigadiers meeting briefly sees the Doctor and the Black Guardian working towards the same ends, which brings home the seriousness of the problem.

The concept of immortality is extremely evocative, but the cliffhanger is let down because Peter Davison struggles with high drama and because so little actually happens in this episode that there’s little to say about it. You just have to keep concentrating on it.

There’s more running about in the fourth episode, which never causes the episode to really sink – but Grimwade does fall into the usual trap of getting tangled in the complexities of what he’s writing. This is contrasted shockingly with some gruesome make-up for Tegan and Nyssa’s ageing scene, which seriously freaked me out as a kid. The Doctor is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for them, which is consistent with his characterisation; his willingness to help the innocent victims throws his refusal to help the mutants into relief. The resolution is a bit contrived, but the Doctor’s comment about the level of coincidence in events (a reference to the Black Guardian) takes the edge off it.

Considering that it’s little more than a great slab of exposition with a dollop of continuity on top, Mawdryn Undead does remarkably well for itself. As usual for Peter Grimwade there’s a feeling that it could be much more if it didn’t aim too high for its own good, but its sheer imagination and verve takes what is fundamentally an average story and elevates it.

Hope you’re in the mood for some good eatin’, ‘cos I’m gonna roast a turkey! Season 24 is condemned almost universally as being one of Doctor Who’s weakest: excessive, poorly made and with a ridiculous tone that drives the series into a different but equally poor direction to the one it recently held. However, it always seems to me that Delta And The Bannermen gets of scot free, with many praising it for its intelligent teasing of science fiction values. I say intelligent, but I simply want to get into the swing of the sarcasm that’s going to characterise this review. This is because Delta And The Bannermen is my candidate for Worst Story Ever, one of the only moments to make me ashamed to be a fan. And I don’t like saying that.

Oddly though, it actually begins fairly well with a decently staged battle scene, with some good special effects and some decent pyrotechnics. What lets it down though? The same thing that let a lot of other stories down. Keff. McCulloch. There are so many opportunities to slate him here that in the interests of avoiding repetition I’m going to get it all out of the way now: he is actually Satan himself. His attempts at parodying 1950s rock and roll are revolting (appropriate, though) and this is the third story in a row where a sickening synthy version of the theme music has been jammed into the incidental music. And that’s saying nothing about the sickening synthy version of the theme music that is, in fact, the actual theme music.

Ken Dodd’s manic overacting is painful to watch and, as usual, every time Mel opens her mouth I get the overwhelming desire to plug it with my shoe. While I’m listing through the rubbish characters, then you have to love those comedy Americans! Just picture the forced rictus smile on my face as I wrote that. Stubby Kaye’s line of “Wales, in England” is just about bearable, but a cheap shot. Other than that, it’s dire; the acting is stagy and the dialogue – “it’s exposition, but it’s funny!” – is too crummy for words.

The Navarinos and their bus become part of a completely comedic, parodic universe for the episode that puts it at complete odds with the programme it’s supposed to be. Could you ever imagine the bus being hit by a meteorite and crashing on Sutekh’s rocket, or next to the Chula ambulance? No. Reason? Those two examples are intelligent, well thought-through ideas, and this one belongs on the scrap heap. That’s a big problem with this story: the complete lack of thought. We never get told why Gavrok wants to kill the Chimerons, we never get told why the baby grows like it does; the villains have no real motivation, and many of the other characters act bizarrely as well: see the cliffhanger to part two (the Doctor’s thinking just makes no sense). At least Don Henderson and Belinda Mayne play it straight, although Mayne is so poor that she must have blackmailed the productions staff into casting her. When she shoots the communication screen, Gavrok’s explanation that she “somehow” switched it off demolishes what little credibility he ever had.

The dancing passengers on the bus is another cringe-inducer, and Hawk and Weismuller continue to bury the episode. The special effects of the bus crash are straight out of Button Moon (a shame, as the effects are generally one of the few real good points about season 24), although it’s nice to see the TARDIS actually being used for one. It was always a simple tool for establishing setting but this was taken to an extreme in the McCoy years and to see the Doctor doing something other than piloting it to Earth is a relief.

I’d have to agree with Mel’s assessment: they picked a sucky location, a cheap, run-down package-holiday nest of putrefaction only redeemed slightly by the pleasant countryside around it. Give me a good old reliable quarry, any day. And I’ve nothing against the Welsh, I’ve lived with several in my time, but Burton is seriously annoying. Ray is slightly better (especially in those leathers, nudge nudge), but her exaggerated cute-little-girly characterisation grates. She could be OK, if only she didn’t open her mouth so much.

The Doctor gives the mechanic Billy free reign with a load of alien technology. Timeline? Aw, who cares, let’s rock!

Ken Dodd’s death, after all these jokey shenanigans, seems unnecessary and inappropriately nasty and mean-spirited (a lot like the death of Clive in Rose). If Malcolm Kohll had to pick such a nauseating tone as he largely does, he should at least be consistent.

At the party, Billy is dressed up in a cheap James Dean / Marlon Brando parody. This may seem minor, but in a sense it epitomises what’s wrong with the story: it proclaims to tease 1950s stereotypes while at the same time pandering to them. It doesn’t have the imagination to be truly satirical, and therefore falls short of its targets and ends up being that which it mocks. And for those cameo fans out there, Keff McCulloch can be seen in the band. Funny, if I was him I wouldn’t be so keen to show my face.

At the cliffhanger to part one, the Doctor gives himself away by a feeble sneeze, snapping the needle on my clichй counter. I’d only just mended it in time to lose it again at the sight of Keillor’s smoking shoes: they only just got away with that in the Meltdown episode of Red Dwarf, and that was a comedy programme. This isn’t. It tries to be, but you wouldn’t have heard me laughing. I’m not against comedy in Doctor Who, but a fairly important requirement of comedy is that it should be funny. The model baby is good, but with Mel in the room screaming it’s the sound effects I object to.

Goronwy, at last, is a nice piece of characterisation. His ambiguity is nice, and I like the theory that he may be an old retired Time Lord. It’s only a shame he’s played so camply by Hugh Lloyd.

Oh, and that DJ is entirely unnecessary. Bad review are certainly therapeutic, but I never enjoy slating my favourite show and I’d much rather watch a good episode than a bad one – but I must confess it was only the thought of tearing into it here that kept me going. The idea of an omnipresent threat rapidly approaching is a good one, by boring direction from Chris Clough and its unremittingly saccharine tone suck dry any sense of tension.

Belinda Mayle’s acting when Delta learns the Bannermen are on their way? Lame. David Kinder’s acting when he learns the Bannermen are on their way? Lame. Delta And The Bannermen? Lame. Ray’s catchprase of “He’s been ihyoniiiiiiiiiised!” is really getting on my nerves now and, although it’s not a new observation, those Bannermen really do look like a load of yuppies on an adventure weekend. The deaths of all the Navarinos leave an unpleasant taste, another example of the kind of action adventure this sometimes tries to be. It wants to have it both ways, and consequently succeeds in neither.

As far as part three is concerned, I was getting too sick of it to take notes. My interest was going the same way as my will to live. Gavrok and his Bannermen get stung by bees, and do you know what? I don’t care. The escaped Bannerman is a bit of a wuss really, and is it me or does he look a bit like Andrew Cartmel? The sonic cone on top of the TARDIS makes the end very very obvious, but at least it means the end is in sight. It could be worse: the story could be average length. For those who like this sort of thing, Sylvester McCoy cops a feel of Sara Griffiths when he’s marking out the boundary around the TARDIS. Hey, I need a bit of a laugh, I just watched Delta And The Bannermen. The ending is abrupt and rubbish, poor Ray gets left high and dry, and TURN THAT MUSIC OFF!

Season 24 is to be commended for attempting something new after the suicidal regime of old under Eric Saward, but it seems to be merely an instinctive panic rather than a measured response and nowhere is this better illustrated than Delta And The Bannermen. Much as it pains me to admit it, now that I’ve reviewed it I could comfortably never see it again.

“Oh my God! I’m a chav!”

Notes: Unless intuitively obvious or otherwise noted, what follows is opinion; as the ‘in my humble opinion…’ tag rapidly grows tedious. Some spoilers follow.

There’s no messing about. Doctor Who: New Earth is the first in the 2006 thirteen-part run of 45-minute episodes comprising Series 2. In the fleeting and welcome pre-credits montage, the latest Doctor (David Tennant) fires up his TARDIS. This is juxtaposed with shots of companion Rose Tyler (Billie Piper) bidding au revoir (?) to her loved ones – all two of them: Mickey Smith and Jackie Tyler (Noel Clarke and Camille Coduri). And then our two travelers are off, “further then we’ve ever gone before” promises the Time Lord. What ensues is a sequel of sorts to The End of the World (2005), and arguably one of writer Russell T. Davies’ strongest entries to date. It is, unsurprisingly, hurriedly-paced, effectively injecting the viewer with their weekly ‘hit’ of Doctor Who. By the outcome, one might very well feel visually fatigued. Indeed, largely due to this, New Earth feels like a mid-series story. There is no pause for an extended celebratory re-introduction, as the brisk opener readily attests.

In reciprocation to a mysterious message, from a familiar Face (voiced by Struan Rodger), our protagonists materialize in a distant and decidedly Welsh future, after the year five billion. There, they must contend with two primary plots, touchy-feely ‘zombies’, and various other story elements. The colloquialism ‘bursting at the seams’ springs to mind. Effectively, this is also Rose’s first televised visit to an alien planet (see suggested by Boom Town, 2005). By this point, I had almost forgotten that they existed in the Doctor Who universe.

Plot A, if you will, pertains to (at least) a trio of cats dressed as nuns. Go figure. In their clinic, the Sisters of Plentitude subject home-grown human vegetables to various interstellar illnesses and diseases, so as to devise illicit cures for their genuine patient population. Cue some old-school self-righteous indignation from the Doctor. Plot B concerns the return of another familiar character, Lady Cassandra [O’Brien] (Zoл Wanamaker), who is out for revenge (well… money). Her method? Possessing Rose’s body! During the course of the show, we witness Cassandra’s ever-changing form; she switches between human, a “bitchy trampoline”, an ethereal body-swapping vapour, and a mind-stealing entity. In the previous series, I felt Piper’s acting was very sincere and plausible (in stark contrast to the Doctor and his universe). Here, she impresses us further; with her depiction of “Cassandrose”1 (“I’m a chav!”) – suggestive of a fairly broad range. This extends to some amusing scenarios, although unfortunate lines akin to “it’s like living inside a bouncy castle” (and “Oh, baby! I’m beating out a samba!”) will, undoubtedly, remind avid viewers who penned the screenplay. Nonetheless, Piper’s performance is a highlight of this week’s episode. Her depiction of Rose is circumscribed to the very first few scenes, where – aside from an amusing elevator incident – she summarizes for us that she loves universe-trotting with her companion.

Wanamaker is also on form, although her Cassandra appears somewhat more ‘on the attack’ than interpreted previously, largely due to the dialogue. Referring to Rose as “that dirty blonde assassin” implies either warped rationalization, or Davies’ poor recollection of his own screenplays – the Doctor was the “blonde assassain” in The End of the World. Arguably, Rose is guilty by association, a scapegoat; as Cassandra does not recognize the “new new” Doctor.

Tennant is promising. As with the untitled Children in Need special and The Christmas Invasion (2005), my primary, trivial, criticism at this point in time, is that I find his occasionally-high-pitched voice irritating. Here, he is as quirky and eccentric as his previous outings implied; and morally self-righteous (“HOW MANY?!”) and self-mythologizing (“There is no higher authority”). I do not care for this “lonely God” business, though. Unfortunately, his outraged scenes do not develop the traditional ‘animal experimentation’ debate. From the given information, the moral of the story is ‘don’t keep zombies in cells in your basement detained via a simple and collective open-close switch’. Or something. However, as I noted in my Christmas review, this ‘superficial’ presentation of moral issues does allow the individual viewer to interpret them as he/she pleases. Regardless, a third fine and enjoyable performance from Tennant.

Unfortunately, our introduction to the detained ‘zombies’ heralds the onset of major absurdities in plotting. For instance, Cassandra no longer requires her “psychograft” for body-swapping. Furthermore, the Doctor’s solution to The Night of the Living Dead, as you will see, is blatantly impractical (whereas, of course, the rest of Doctor Who is not…). Nonetheless, it is all entertaining and engaging, with fine performances from the primary dramatis personae, and the supporting cast: Cassandra’s Welsh sidekick Chip (Sean Gallagher); and the Sisters Matron Casp, Sister Jatt, and Novice Hame (respectively: Dona Croll, Adjoa Andoh, and Anna Hope). As are the petrifold regression-ailed Duke of Manhattan and bespectacled Frau Clovis (Michael Fitzgerald and Lucy Robinson). James Hawes directs.

Is this production suitable for you?

The verdict: 3/5. Relentless, surreal, well-acted, engaging, and sometimes amusing; New Earth requires the suspension of disbelief. Not perfect, but another fun romp from the regular writer. An appropriate series-starter.

Target audience(s): General. Based upon my experiences, it is light-hearted and watchable enough for most viewers.

Certificate recommendation: U-PG. ‘Zombies’. A few minor sexual allusions children will overlook. Nothing major, and given today’s desensitized audiences, I feel PG is probably pushing it. Colourful atmosphere. (Being cheeky, that probably equates with an ‘18’ from the BBFC, who have not been desensitized since the Fifties… [But, then I am stereotyping somewhat])