This review contains plot spoilers

2015 is the year of prologues. There is no lecture about Beethoven and the bootstrap paradox in The Girl Who Died, no captive audience for tales of the incorrigible creativity of the Doctor, no stark moral dilemma with a vulnerable child who will become or has been an old enemy. We are, though, launched into the middle of a story which we haven’t seen begin, and which doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the events trailed at the end of Before the Flood. The iconography is familiar, though: eyes, windows and isolation beyond rescue and a remorseless threat which is not quite visible all recall elements of the previous two-parter. So, too, does Clara’s discussion with the Doctor inside the TARDIS where, following on from Bennett last week but with more experience and consequent perception, she questions the ‘rules’ of time travel, where the Doctor’s explanation isn’t supported by her own knowledge that the Doctor, far from being a ripple, is like a tidal wave. For those inclined to seek remote precedents, this scene functions much as the prologue to the novelisation Doctor Who and the Crusaders does. The Doctor’s anxiety about ripples is counterpointed by his apparent carelessness in wiping the remains of Clara’s spacesuit’s spider (very satisfyingly squelched) on the grass of an unknown world, but works as a statement of intent. The Doctor and Clara are then separated from the TARDIS much as the Doctor and his then-companions were regularly in the mid-1960s. The pre-credits sequence is energetic and thoughtful and painted with fine and broad brushes by turns. The Vikings seem to be harmless comedic figures, prone to shouting that they are Vikings to convince themselves as much as the audience, but this will turn out to be a plot point. By the end of the pre-credits sequence the Doctor’s witticisms have been mocked themselves by simple force in the way which so many spectacle-wearers have feared. Intellectual pretensions have their limits.

Culture warriors

The post-credits opening allows something of a directorial signature. Ed Bazalgette gained attention for his telling stories through landscape with his handling of the first four episodes of the 2015 series of Poldark and while there are no galloping horses there is an aerial view which combines associations with recent television drama with the conventions of televised historical reconstruction. The man entering the screen bottom right and blowing the horn to announce the arrival of the raiders’ ship in the bay, with people then running across the screen to become part of the welcoming party, suggests not only place but culture. The camera soon settles on Maisie Williams with a deliberation that says to the viewer that you might or ought to recognise her; this is our guest star. Einar and Lofty are also recognised as significant, Lofty working at his forge, marking him as the smith, a figure recognised in Norse mythology but also the nearest thing the village has to a technologist, something the viewer might remember for later. The Doctor’s remark about remembering people and things backwards suggests Ashildr’s specialness and flirts with premonition in a fashion rare for televised Doctor Who; in an episode where publicity has emphasised its use of references to previous stories, the remark recalls the Moment’s non-linear relationship with time in The Day of the Doctor, even the personal timeline of a Time Lord; and going further back the games with causality in Logopolis, especially as personalised in the novelisation.

Meanwhile, Ashildr is presented as rooted in time and place; her conversations sketch in details of the village, her father and her neighbours, and a personality with tendencies to apprehension and fatalism, while teasing with her fears that her dream could have prevented the raiding party from returning. The Doctor’s science-fictional – postmodern? – openness to multiple linearities of causality is compared with Ashildr’s premodern understanding of the universe while establishing her fears about herself and encouraging speculation in the viewer.

For the next few minutes camera angles and sound levels vary between whether the viewer is with the Doctor and Clara bickering over their chained predicament, or with Ashildr trying to work out who or what these people are. There’s a sense of how otherly the Doctor and Clara are here, while building up the mystery of Ashildr who might at this stage be a possible non-human challenge to the Doctor.

‘You might as well be a god.’

Just as one is lulled into thinking that the problem the Doctor and Clara will face is within the Viking village, divine intervention from without provides the common threat to time travellers and villagers. Odin’s first appearance is almost a direct lift from Monty Python and the Holy Grail with a nod to the connection between Earth and Asgard seen in the Marvel Thor films, both drawing on imagery stretching back at least to Renaissance art, albeit depicting the Christian God. (Peter Capaldi's Odin voice has more than a little of an emergency Anthony Hopkins impersonation about it.) This manifestation is seen by the villagers as confirmation that the Doctor is a false Odin, but arguably the Vikings have already recognised the Doctor as Odin by removing two of his four eyes. Where the face in the sky is Odin as war deity and protector of peoples, the Doctor is another facet of Odin, the blue-clad wandering Trickster who both seeks wisdom and has wisdom sought from him, upsetting the established order as he goes.

The third figure to give up half her sight, however briefly is Ashildr. Clara places one half of the sonic sunglasses over Ashildr’s right eye and asks that she think ‘open’ – a direct reference to Clara’s own course in self-liberation from the Dalek casing in The Witch’s Familiar – but instead of just freeing Clara from her chains Ashildr is liberated from the pattern of her life and the two are sent to Odin’s vessel. Clara (by following her own initiative and not doing what the Doctor says) and Ashildr are both disruptive figures, but Clara has learned to embrace and develop this part of her character, while Ashildr fears it. This provides the foundation for a successful sequence where Clara and Ashildr have a Doctor-companion relationship, enduring the horror of the halls of Valhalla being a food processing centre, existing so a predator can enjoy mechanically recovered testosterone and adrenaline cocktails.

Ashildr is here Clara’s apprentice, a kid getting into trouble and making mistakes. Her declamation of her name to Odin and his Mire lackeys seems to emphasise that her name sounds like ‘shielder’, encouraging associations with the mythological figure of the shield-maiden, and with the comparably (but more different than the same) tomboyish figure of Eowyn in The Lord of the Rings. However, it means (as far as I can tell from a quick internet search) ‘God-Battle’, which summarises how Ashildr presents herself in her challenge to Odin on board his ship and the role pressed upon her in the final battle between the villagers and the Mire. If one wishes to extend the parallels, the name is cognate to that of the two other female Doctor-analogues in the current series, (Clara) Oswald and Osgood, the gods of power and good respectively.

Making a very bad god

Something Doctor Who can do very well, but seemed to have lost of late, was the taking of characters established as unsympathetically comedic and then repositioning them so their deaths are shockingly tragic. Such is the fate of Hasten, the Viking war-leader; his wearing of one half of the Doctor’s glasses in imitation of Odin as he entered the village was his choice rather than something forced upon him, a jovial statement of faith and confidence in his effectiveness as a war leader. Here, his belief in Valhalla and the generosity of the gods is met by the callous crossfire of lightning bolts. The juxtaposition of imagery drawing from Norse myth – or what the audience remembers of Norse myth – in the form of shield-like projections from the walls and lightning, and the bare impersonal industrial context of the harvesting chamber Is in itself great storytelling and another example of Michael Pickwoad’s considered deployment of his architectural and engineering sensibilities.

This story, much as this season has done so far, dramatises a debate about the Doctor’s authority – is he a gadget-wielding warrior, or an improviser who leads by inspiration, often by bluster? He is both godlike and just a bloke in a box. Having played god in an attempt to awe the villagers into freeing him, he then turns arch-rationalist and makes a statement which is bound to provoke several religious viewers, that one knows the gods because they don’t come and visit. The intent is to shock the villagers into a form of modernity because only by challenging their impressions of the world will they understand it and become who the Doctor needs them to be. Otherwise the Doctor is stuck with his own rhetoric, not too far from Missy’s dismissal of human obsession with sex and reproduction in The Magician’s Apprentice – humanity can go back to making puddings and babies, and continue to be harvested. There are definite echoes of another series which included harvesters of humanity who manipulated mythology and faith, the final (Euston Films) Quatermass.

Some of the central section of the episode was lost on me at first viewing. The air of classic sitcom was present, but seemed underpowered; and surely naming the tallest of the villagers Lofty showed that the Doctor takes service nicknames too literally. Perhaps he’s more of a soaps man, and has watched more early EastEnders than It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum. Until Blogtor Who’s preview of the episode mentioned that one of the episode’s working titles had been The All-Father’s Army, I’d managed to miss that Dad’s Army was being referenced. At the time the Doctor’s accusation that the Vikings might survive by raising crops at the Mire didn’t seem too far-fetched; the Mire seem neither adapted to organic methods nor to vegetarianism. However, this was not where the episode was going. The Doctor’s ‘officerness’, the object of jibes from Danny last year, comes to the fore despite his world- and war-weariness.

The Doctor also experiences a crisis of faith. His preferred strategy would be to hide the villagers and avoid a confrontation with the Mire. This seems to conflict with his usual practice. His defeat of the alien forces seen at the start of The Girl Who Died is presented as final because they are too frightened or depleted to come back to oppress the Velosians, the rationalisations which viewers have been invited to make since The Dalek Invasion of Earth here being made concrete. At the same time, the Doctor’s belief that the Mire could be avoided and the villagers saved without humanity as a whole being imperilled seems to be wishful thinking. While our Vikings are peaceful farmers and fishermen, the Mire seem to be patterned after a popular image of the Viking as dedicated to plunder and pillage. There’s an ambiguity in the writing of the episode which shows the Doctor hoping that the Mire don’t need to be challenged when they’ve been established as a destruction-happy threat The Doctor says that the Mire are practical, that they leave when they get what they want; but what they want is to wipe out the villagers. If they didn’t find these particular villagers, perhaps they would pursue others, and others still. The villagers and the Doctor, like the baby, need to sing, but also to find the right song; and the baby is right, as the right song turns out to be welcome laughter.

Before then the grimness and frustration of the twelfth Doctor still has to be faced. The Doctor’s misanthropy is comparable to that demonstrated by the ninth Doctor, but is detached from the broad satire and faith in human relationships which flavoured the 2005 series. Over ten years later, his summary of the history of an Earth-centred universe as ‘Big bang. Dinosaurs. Bipeds. A mounting sense of futility’ is more depressing than amusing. The programme’s longevity and the renewal of its eponymous hero means that the Doctor needs to face the same questions again and again and again, but on first viewing there was something particularly hopeless about that line, though it seemed lighter on a revisit.

A game where only you know the rules

The episode also sees the Doctor most in danger of ceasing to be the person celebrated by Missy and Clara in the pre-credits sequence of The Witch’s Familiar – someone who thinks he will always win. To its credit, this series is taking further some of the questions left at the end of the David Tennant period concerning the way the Doctor, who professes to be a man of peace, turns his companions into his soldiers. The Doctor ponders guiltily what he has made Clara into; he is aware not only of ripples through depersonalised timelines, but the transformations he wreaks on people. Perhaps more than ever before here Clara is his manager, who reminds him of what needs to be done. Clara claims that the Doctor is her hobby, but here he seems more like her career. This episode gives Jenna Coleman a lot to do and demands that she is quick and authoritative and cutting, especially with the Doctor; and she gives an accomplished performance which is less about being placed in peril, as in the previous episodes this season, than in articulating the common predicament and how the Doctor should be able to resolve it.

It’s perhaps because Clara has become too involved with the Doctor’s life that it’s Ashildr who actually makes him want to win. This is practically a negotiation of reconciliation of the Doctor with humanity, and with himself. Ashildr has always been seen as odd by her neighbours, growing up rejected by both girls and boys, never conforming to gender expectations. Yet at the same time she protests that her people are kind and brave and strong and she loves them. The force of her imagination is something we have to take on trust beyond that she and others find her dreams disturbing; she is someone who sees reality at a different angle from others and has enough about her to recall the Doctor to himself and lay the foundation for victory. Ashildr moves from Clara-companion to Doctor-companion; it’s a graduation which gives Maisie Williams the chance to project Ashildr’s heartfelt humanity but also shows how removed from representing human beings to the Doctor Clara has become. It’s a familiar story, but told through different examples and at a slower and more enthralling pace than, say, the dissociation of Rose from her old life, and is the better for it.

Publicity has included a video where Maisie Williams considers her casting as a fandom crossover. Fans, fandom and fanhood are part of the mainstream presentation of Doctor Who and other series in a way that they weren’t when the series was revived in 2005. Publicity is still working out how to deal with this. Ashildr is arguably a fan fiction writer – though not of Doctor Who – let loose in the narrative, her imagined worlds of sea voyages and martial epics a long way from the somewhat ragged Vikings we see. Her fate should not be regarded as a cautionary tale for her, but for the Doctor who fails to make adequate preparations.

Leaving the tourists a bit of glamorous illusion

The battle with the Mire is played against a final move from reconstruction history, to history as the present or recent past with odd clothes and a low level of technology, to pageant history as the Doctor and Clara enlist the villagers in a mediaeval banquet not too far from the one Sarah Jane Smith imagines Irongron and his men are part of in The Time Warrior. The Mire are exposed as pretenders – we never see the implied horror that is Odin’s real face – and so they are defeated by a theatricality which casts doubt on some of the Doctor’s recent utterances. Should he be allowing the universe to see him as ‘just a bloke in a box’? Or is this the best form of defence for someone of his power?

The use of the closing theme from The Benny Hill Show as the accompaniment to the retreat of Odin from the ship’s very wooden prow (but not much less impressive as a threat than Ashildr’s imagined and CGId serpent) could remind one of the status of women in this episode. It would have disturbed the parallel with Dad’s Army, but it’s remarkable that there are no women conscripted into the Doctor’s norm-disrupting village home guard. There is an observation of what we assume to have been traditional gender roles. Women are spoken of, bringing up children; while both men and women are seen serving at table. This is used to emphasise Ashildr’s uniqueness; but her own assessment of herself will probably intrigue and exercise those who write about depictions of gender identities in popular television.

Previewers were requested not to reveal details of what the Mire looked like without their helmets. Their heads are something between a shark and an eel, aquatic creatures out of their element, but effective counterparts to the CGI serpent and the eels whose electricity is being used against them. All three seem vaguely Norse too, perhaps like the wyrm which gnaws at the world-tree. They move very quickly and are seen only for fractions of second, never allowing the viewer to recover from the shock and think that they are not so awful after all. It’s an effective technique, both powerful and disempowering because the Mire are never fully personified; all they can do is writhe and shriek before they scarper.

Lily-white hands

We were promised that The Girl Who Died would reveal why the Doctor has the face he has. There’s no obvious link to Russell T Davies’s overarching theory as to why Caecilius and Frobisher (from Torchwood: Children of Earth) look the same, but instead there are warm flashbacks to a hot city as the Doctor remembers being told that he could save people by Donna. Having had the responsibility and the characteristics of a god, the Doctor apostrophises the heavens in a fashion which recalls the fourth Doctor’s abuse of the (absent) Time Lords in part one of The Brain of Morbius and in its mention of Hell remembers where the Doctor sent Rassilon and the Time Lords at the end of The End of Time. This is the more powerful moment, not only because of the way the camera settles on Peter Capaldi’s face and the absolute identification with the Doctor which Capaldi for that moment demands, but because the stakes are more real; the Doctor has taken a life he did not intend to take, and it is in his gift to restore it; he might be breaking laws, but he will not be damned for doing so. The moment has echoes, certainly, of that oldest (well, almost) of Moffat tales, The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, where the Doctor, hoping that his theory is correct and the nanogenes will be able to restore Jamie’s humanity and those of the other gas mask people, pleads for ‘a day like this’. Here, he asserts his right to compassion and the right to act on it. This isn’t a Time Lord Victorious moment, but a relief that the seeming inevitability of ‘everybody dies’ has been averted and that if one life is owed it is surely Ashildr’s.

The Doctor’s moment of self-realisation is fleeting; once passion subsides the consequences to making Ashildr immortal become apparent. The Doctor’s own uncertainty about his own mortality has been an understated theme of this season and his description of the resurrected Ashildr’s new condition recalls, surely deliberately, the second Doctor’s explanation of the Time Lords in episode ten of The War Games. Living forever, barring accidents, isn’t something which Doctor Who has presented as a desirable condition, particularly in the programme’s twenty-first century versions where saving people has often included letting them reconcile themselves to the death of others. In this case this is a death for which the Doctor bears responsibility; but the audience is directed carefully to wonder whether he has made the right choice, and the Doctor himself is not convinced. The return to the theme of the hybrid intrigues and unsettles because it points towards a particular hybrid, of incompatible elements. Being a hybrid in itself should not be a bad thing; the suggestion that it might be leads one to consider the programme’s own values.

The Girl Who Died ends with what students of the Doctor Who cliffhanger have called the ‘suspended enigma’; a cinematically visual realisation of Ashildr as a person now existing detached from the rhythm of the ages. One can imagine her learning to feel the turn of the earth, the spinning of the world and the entire planet hurting round the sun, her face first full of content and satisfaction with living, her face then clouding with something not quite determinable, but reminiscent of the burden of eternity which weighs heavily on the Doctor.

The Girl Who Died manages to maintain a sense of danger while keeping a colossal sense of fun, something which so far this series has had difficulty doing, switching codes while brooding throughout The Magician’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar and choosing a cold twilight intensity for Under the Lake/Before the Flood. Capaldi’s Doctor conveys his most engaging range of emotion yet, his expressions adopting at times a wryly amused distance from affairs while never losing sight of each crisis. One feels one shouldn’t remark upon the 2000-Year Diary turning up, because the prop seemed to naturally belong there; yet ‘When I say run, run!’ has become ‘When I say move, you move.’ A longer life has made it more difficult for the Doctor to hide his awareness of his responsibilities. There is a sense of being involved in a Viking epic, amplified through the intimate poetry of the crying baby, translated through the Doctor’s grief for events which seem not to have happened or which can be prevented from happening; but perhaps we are mistaken, and the Doctor is aware of another narrative entirely, presently outside our perception. The episode is confirmation that Jamie Mathieson knows how to blend setting and character to create a strong Doctor Who broth, with one presumes more than just a few chosen croutons from Steven Moffat. Happiness, somewhere along the way, is rediscovered in a fashion missing from Doctor Who since Peter Capaldi took over the role. It has been too long.

There have been moments in recent Doctor Who which seemed as if the programme had lost part of its soul, something present in the original plan but easily lost amidst space-time travels and periodically rediscovered. In part Doctor Who was about ordinary people in extraordinary situations doing extraordinary things because circumstances made them. Ian and Barbara are both the ancestors (within the narrative of Doctor Who) and the descendants (within human chronology) of the Viking villagers. Yet alongside this part of the format has always walked a question, acknowledged sparingly until this century: how far does the experience of the extraordinary necessarily remove one from the everyday? The Girl Who Died leaves this question hanging over the audience as perhaps never before.

Well, it's finally here. After some eighteen months since we originally expected it to be released, The Underwater Menace has finally arrived for everybody to enjoy on shiny DVD. Any boy, has it been a wait, with the story being delayed owing to animation, then effectively being cancelled and then suddenly being announced ahead of time by an accidental listing by the BBC Shop! Then, with features still under wraps, it was a question over how would the missing two episodes be presented ...

 

The Episodes

 

It turns out episodes one and four are telesnap reconstructions in the very strictest sense of the word - they are literally just the telesnaps, shown in progression - including those taken of the opening and closing credits! So, for episode one the opening title music plays over the "Doctor Who" logo, and the closing music plays over an image of a fish-person (plus the producer/director credit telesnaps at the end). The static images also lead to some strange imagery, such as when Zaroff is first introduced you might be led to believe he was a shark!

The reasoning behind why BBC Worldwide decided to present the story in this way is really quite mystifying, especially as their previous effort with The Web of Fear episode three was a much more fluid reconstruction. One can only assume that the budget was so restrictive for this release that they couldn't afford to utilise imagery more appropriate to reflect who/what is on screen, let alone insert the censor clips recovered from Australia, incorporate the standard opening title sequence or recreate the end credits! However, it does mean that you can see the Cura telesnaps in all their glory ...

The soundtrack itself is a clean, un-narrated version. For collectors like myself this is actually quite a good thing, as previously we only have the Anneke Wills-narrated soundtrack version to listen to. However, in terms of presentation the narrated version would probably have made more sense to assist in explaining what is going on, especially with the static telesnap presentation where there are long sequences stuck on a single unreprestative frame.

Overall, I'm not too sure how I feel about the presentation of these episodes; on the one hand it does (just about) serve the purpose of telling the story, but if you are unfamiliar with these episodes then it might well be quite confusing to follow the plot, especially where there is no dialogue - in those cases you might be better off muting the TV and playing the narrated soundtrack alongside the images on screen (or perhaps not even bothering with that as so little is occuring on screen!)

Of course the real reason we're here is the chance to finally see Episode Two in all its glory! With the exception of the lucky attendees at its unveiling at Missing Believed Wiped in December 2011 and a couple of special presentations around the country, the majority of fans have been unable to see the recovered episode for nigh on four years - indeed, we got to see both The Enemy of the World and The Web of Fear beforehand! But was the wait actually worth it?

Episode Three has been available to us for many years of course, and perhaps familiarity has bred contempt, often leading to the story being derided for its outlandish characters, madcap chases, not to mention that immortal final line from Zaroff. With all that baggage, the second episode, therefore, was always going to have a fight on its hands to raise the story from being seen as a 'farce' to something more 'sensible'. However, it wasn't much of a fight in the end - from the outset we are presented with a terrifying scene of Polly about to be operated upon, and then to a much calmer, thoughtful, insightful version of the Doctor to the one seen in the latter episode. I woudn't say that this necessarily immediately raises episode three and the overall story into (ahem) 'classic' status, but in context it now makes the latter episode feel like a 'normal' part three as opposed to the extra prominence placed upon it as being the sole representative of the story.

The problem with a "new" episode is often that there's too much to take in on the first viewing, not to mention the excitement of seeing it that first time. It's the second viewing that normally gives you the chance to better appraise it, and also whether it stands up to the closer scrutiny. Episode two does manage to pass that test, which to me at least means it has been worth the (extended) wait to see it. Though the narrated soundtrack and exisiting telesnaps mean I'm not entirely unfamilar with it, unless we are extremely lucky with when Cura took his shot much of the time little nuances within a scene are lost. Good examples are when we can now see the Doctor's reaction to Zaroff's outrageous claims, or his miming the professor's insanity to Thous, things that weren't evident before. Another one I like is the Doctor hiding in a plain and common wardrobe - in this case there are telesnaps showing this, but they don't quite portray the humour that is present.

I don't think the episode quite meets the hype that has grown up around it being the one remaining episode left to be released for this era of Doctor Who, and it was (justifiably) eclipsed by the two Season Five returns, but all-in-all it isn't a particularly bad episode and probably more representative of the story as a whole. It also now has the 'honour' of being the earliest complete episode of the Troughton era, and means the second Doctor  no longer has an 'embarassing' start to his visible adventures!

As a little bonus, those who sit through the end of the episode four credits can find the telesnap credits featured over video of the story's location, Winspit Quarry, which unfortunately only features in the two missing episodes. Not quite a "Now and Then" feature, and the footage hails from A Fishy Tale, but welcome nonetheless!

 

Special Features

 

Fortunately, one of the revelations of the formal DVD announcement was that, unlike Enemy and Web, it would  (most of) the special features that we are used to on 'classic' series releases. These also included the two (brief) Australian censor clips that weren't incorporated into the reconstructed episodes above, so at least these can still be seen on the DVD.

A Fishy Tale covers the making of the story, looking into the 'mountainous' production journey undertaken by The Underwater Menace from its original inception as Under The Sea, its rejection as unmakable by its original director Hugh David and a 007 film crewmember(!), its removal and subsequent re-instatement to the production schedule as other scripts fell by the wayside, and its ultimate tackling by the previous year's The Smugglers director Julia Smith. Regular companion Anneke Wills provided the main 'commentary' on how the story was produced, with additional insight from Frazer Hines on his formal arrival as Jamie as new companion (and the script adjustments needed to cater for another TARDIS traveller). Other contributors include Catherine Howe who played Ara, assistant floor manager Gareth Gwenlan, and new series writer Robert Shearman giving his take on viewing the story in 'modern times'. The feature was narrated by Peter Davison, who only really started to get his teeth into the special features range through its director Russell Minton, who also provided another welcome touch in the inclusion of especially shot footage out on the story's original locations at Winspit, featuring 'fish-people' out on the beach and in the quarry.

As with the majority of behind-the-scenes features in the Doctor Who DVD range, A Fishy Tale nicely summarises the making of the story, but sadly the nitty-gritty details of the ins-and-outs provided by production information subtitles are not included with this release. Being that these traditionally carry lots of interesting snippets about how the script progressed and changed, what was happening around and during production, etc., it feels like there's a bit of a vacuum this time around, and we are missing out on the usual 'definitive' story of production. I guess we will need to wait for the eventual release of the relevant edition of The Complete History now for that account.

However, at least we have the commentaries to listen to, which provide traditional behind-the-scenes 'gossip'. As with previous incomplete story releases, the existing episodes have the regular cast/crew reminiscences on production, with the missing episodes used to present contextual interviews, clips, etc. For The Underwater Menace, episode one takes the form of the second part of an interview by moderator Toby Hadoke with Patrick Troughton's son Michael (recorded prior to his own inaugural appearance in Last Christmas), who candidly discusses life growing up with his father, his relationships and attitudes towards the work he undertook. The second episode features Anneke Wills, Frazer Hines, Catherine Howe, sound composer Brian Hodgson and floor assistant Quention Mann, and as might be expected discussion focussed on the return of this episode after a few decades and how they felt about being able to see it again. Other tidbits along the way include Frazer commenting on how Colin Jeavons aka Damon's eyebrows reminded him of an androgum (with Toby observing no colour photos exist to compare against), and how the opening scenes of the story raised concern over children not wanting flu jabs. Moving onto the third episode, anecdotes included reflections on the challenges faced both for and with director Julia Smith, the 'infamous' way in which Joseph Furst played Zaroff, plus Brian on the difficulties of sound mixing in the early days and Anneke on Troughton's thoughts over 'that' scene with the fish-people ... The last episode is made up of archive recordings, and features Julia Smith and the originally-slated director Hugh David on making (and not making) the story, producer Innes Lloyd on what he liked about producing Doctor Who and the changes of direction he instigated, and a longer interview with the Doctor himself, Patrick Troughton in which he talks about getting and creating the role, costume and "hairy" arrangements, and how important a routine was for making such a frenetic show.

Yvette Fielding is back for the second half of The Television Centre of the Universe - and we also get a "previously" which is quite useful if you haven't watched the first half since it's release on The Visitation in 2013. The "cliff-hanger" is resolved to be cameraman Alec Wheal, and then it's straight into anecdotes between him and the trio of Peter Davison, Janet Fielding and Mark Strickson about life in the studio during recording (plus BBC producer/fan Richard Marson chatting about the "fan glitterati" who watched whatever they could studio galleries!). As before, the main conversations were interspersed with anecdotes from other production personnel, such as assistant floor manager Sue Hedden on how props could disappear and exhibitions assistant Bob Richardson admitting he had purloined a terileptil mind control device! Other contributors included production assistant Jane Ashford (who reflected on the challenges of maintaining contunuity during filming) and videotape engineer Simon Anthony (who commented on combatting recording issues from lighting and physical effects). It was also an unexpected bonus to see behind-the-scenes footage from Earthshock to help illustrate the discussion!

As with the previous part, this is a relaxed, light-hearted wander through the production process and a way to 'look' around TVC as-was, before its tragic final closure. And, in tradition, it's off to the BBC Bar to finish off both this production and (possibly) the classic Doctor Who DVD feature range as a whole!

 

Conclusion

 

Overall, the story is quite a jolly romp. We get to see Patrick Troughton portray a more playful and extravagant version before these elements are toned down into the more focussed, enigmatic Doctor we travel alongside in later adventures. We get the over-the-top mad Professor Zaroff played with gusto by Joseph Furst. And of course we get to see the companion triad of Ben, Polly and Jamie in action for the first time. Visually, there are some impressive sets, and I personally think the fish people "showcase" in episode three is quite an effective scene (not to mention giving Dudley Simpson a good run for his money!). However, the story is hardly a memorable classic like many of the era to come - it's certainly not the best story in the world, but then again it is also by no means the worst in the grand history of Doctor Who.

In terms of the DVD itself, it's a shame that the still missing episodes were presented in such a basic form, but to misquote a well-known BBC phrase, "other viewing methods are available!" It's also disappointing that the production subtitles were not included, but on the other hand it is great to finally be able to see the second episode fully restored, the making-of, and the final part of the TV Centre feature.

 

Coming Soon ...

 

Sadly, "Nothing left in the world has stopped us now..."

One crisis is averted, but still there is much to do for the self-proclaimed 'Mad Man In A Box', as his ship is now gone and potentially in the hands of malicious forces who could devastate the entire course of galactic history.

The Doctor, with no TARDIS to help out , must somehow save two of his companions from a time-bending fate of potentially eternal nature as the musician and the mysterious ARC creature have embarked on a very drastic merger.  This rescue mission is no easy feat as Jones seemingly wants to go out in a blaze of rock super-power glory, and ARC is determined to resolve the mystery hanging over it. And after so much emotional turmoil will Alice be cut off from her own time and life back in London?

What happens to Jones and ARC over the course of the narrative is gripping and helps pay off much of both the year long arc as well as finding something truly memorable for these fine characters to do. Alice is (and remains) the standout but she has perhaps one of the more traditional roles in this particular release, and allows the confused and overwhelmed Doctor to really show how sensitive he can be - below all the mad-cap bluster and energy he normally has to show.

Ultimately it is the lead man, so well brought to life by Matt Smith for the first half of the televisual decade, who is given the really thought-provoking material. He shows his vulnerability, but also his sense of responsibility. He shows his initiative to look after his friends, but also readily admits he could fail in that assumed duty. He seems every bit an alien with a humanoid exterior, and yet a man who will always pride Earth as his home, especially now the Time Lords are no more.

And his reaction right at the end to who actually is the Gallifreyan who has been following him (unbeknown, despite some potentially revelatory moments) through time and space provides a wonderfully personal cliffhanger, as opposed to the 'big MacGuffin' in the hands of latest 'seemingly undefeatable bad guy'.

Once again the art is wonderfully suitable for living up to the fevered imaginations of the writing team on the Eleventh Doctor line, with this time round both Al Ewing and Rob Williams being involved together in coming up with surprises galore for a more than clued-up readership. Simon Fraser has proven he has the sheer quality needed for big ideas and epic events, so I welcome his presence for this end of year finale. He especially excels with all the material showing Jones in different stages of location, being and the emotions entailed.

Perhaps the aftermath of the Roman adventure is strangely lacking in that there could be a bit of a diversion with a character native to the setting; be they from the previous story or a new person altogether. But ultimately the core of this opening story segment is to get us concerned over the resolution of two major problems, and the reader is unlikely to relinquish holding the issue or clicking through its pages onscreen. 

So it's a been a thrill of a year since I first took up the task of reviewing these exciting new adventures from the Titan juggernaut brand. Furthermore the consistent quality from issue to issue has led me to expect a very strong conclusion to this two-parter and to Year One of the Eleventh Doctor's comic adventures.

 

Bonus Humour Strip: "Timeliney Wimey"

After the head-melting material in the main story this two page piece of smart satire  sees Ellerby once again in fine form both with his punchlines, and the different art techniques used to realise his characters and plot. Be it by luck or design there is a chance to see the Judoon without their helmets in this story, as they manage to track down the Doctor and his 'special friend' River Song.  A cute reference to swinging 60s legend Polly Wright closes off an especially good effort.

                                            As inhuman as any visitor to Earth

                                            The Fisher King wants to secure its Berth

                                            Until its kind come back for it

                                            And man is its slave-object

                                            With ghosts here and ghost there

                                            The Fell Alien ruins Nature everywhere

 

                                            Maybe a Time Lord of Gallifrey

                                            Who sounds like a Scot

                                            Could dispel the apparition misery.

                                             (That could be some Plot!)

 

After last week's grim cliffhanger, it appears the Twelfth Doctor will be the final iteration of the up-to-now enduring survivor of the Time War. He has travelled back to before the huge flood, that caused an alien spaceship to become shrouded in the depths of water for many many years. The objective? To try and ensure that Clara and the other survivors of the disaster that gripped the underwater base will end up intact, and to try and exorcise those disturbing ghosts once and for all. But some hard adjustments always are needed when drastic time travel is brought to the fore. Even with his vast experience and intellect, the Doctor may be biting off just a bit more than he can chew..

We have two new speaking roles this time round, with the essentially harmless undertaker alien Prentis (Paul Kaye) , and the utterly malevolent Fisher King (physically performed by Neil Fingleton). The latter sees little issue in enslaving humanity as a way of passing the time before he is 'taxied' home.  Despite this, there are split time zones for much of the running time. This results in many more scenes of small groups of people talking, and I do prefer this focus and urgency to the larger group discussions that had to fill out much preliminary character work in the first instalment.

And thus those still alive from the base crew get to do some fine work that mostly improves on their introductions before. Everyone gives a good account of themselves, but this time I actually found Arsher Ali the stand-out guest from those returning speaking roles. Ali really sells the different emotions his introverted character has, be they the amazing time travel experience, his generous prompting of the repressed romance between his two junior colleagues, and most meaningfully of all his dressing down of the Doctor. Despite the eventual victory, we are made to see how the Doctor is sometimes a little sketchy in his approach to overcoming catastrophe, and yet the loss of O'Donnell lies as much with her own determined choice to risk her life by stepping out of the TARDIS.

Much as I had hoped, Peter Capaldi does not just follow an utterly spellbinding turn in 'Under The Lake' but compounds it with every bit of his range and connection to an acting role that was a childhood dream of his. He breaks the 'Fourth Wall' at the start and finish as he talks classical music and the nature of invention. This is not something easy to do convincingly, but boy does it work a treat. And he manages to make the often complicated plot and exposition roll off as fundamentally believable and enticing. Again this was something that even some of the best Doctors of the past could show inconsistency with, excepting Patrick Troughton and Tom Baker (who always rose to the occasion).

 

If not clear enough from the very first paragraph, I am very impressed by the new alien foe who finally arrives on-screen. He has a truly monstrous effect on the people in his surroundings; be it by his own hand  or by his unique powers that render three   dimensional individuals into rather shapeless ghosts.  And the peril for the wider world is confirmed in this conclusion,   making the Doctor's need to overcome the  Fisher King that bit more urgent. With a wonderfully HR Giger-like design and an expressively imposing voice  (Peter Serafinowicz - who also breathed life into Star War's Darth Maul) this monster overshadows his  ghoulish underlings without making them any less effective. And more importantly he functions also as a terrific foil to the Doctor, forcing our veteran do-gooder to come up with one of his very best ways of  solving a complex problem. It matters little at the end when the Doctor said the alien was always going to  die in that time and place, because what matters is that he carries out a damage limitation exercise to the  best of his ability..

The plan and its implementation comes off as remarkably clever without feeling like a cheat. A Time Lord  really should be able 'reverse engineer' events and circumstances, and also make the course of history  flow. The moment he jumps out of the (previously mysterious) casket with his tech-shades in hand and warns Clara not to come near him due to "morning breath", will surely go down as one of the defining moments of the Twelfth Doctor come Capaldi's relinquishment of the title role.

As for how this story itself develops from last time, I am similarly impressed how a very traditional part one is suddenly enriched far more than most would expect. The basic structure is still there but by the closing sequences this two-parter has got an identity and soul all of its own. The complex plot and storytelling is the catalyst for this change. And indeed viewers are really made to piece a bit of the elaborate jigsaw together, but the great thing about this show in today's times is its instant re-accessibility. The adventure is so rich and well-done from start to finish that re-viewings will be an absolute pleasure, rather than a chore, which I cannot always say with my hand on heart.

Also, editing and direction have been rarely bettered in any TARDIS tale this century. The pace is relentless or ponderous as required, and the sum total is perfectly synchronous. We really want to see how these very human people react to the chaos that has resulted from actions of in turn one ineffectual, one heroic and one despicable alien. There are some tough decisions, and even arguably avoidable losses along the way, but come the end, the living-death fate of the ghosts is conclusively avoided. A neat reference to UNIT, who are going strong in the future, is implemented also - just to remind us of the return to present day material with the Doctor's allies later on this series.

And should you go back to episode three, the line referencing a "minuet" suddenly goes from being a throwaway quirk to a smart tie-in to the Fourth Wall framework, that give this two-parter a whole added layer of meaning. The Doctor's almost boyish exuberance at having master-minded Ludwig van Beethoven's Fifth Symphony could easily be a bit too conceited. However Capaldi pulls off the balance needed for this to be an alien, with many identifiable human qualities making a positive difference. It also enhances a wonderful pay-off taking place in the TARDIS at the episode's close, as his faithful companion has to take in what all the time-wimey actions that she provided for the Doctor were really about. And the slightly different title sequence to the norm (c.f. the Clara face in the credits for Death In Heaven) further signals that Steven Moffat and his associates are still full of ideas. Long may they remain to keep realising them.

Watch this without interruption, on a dark chilly night, and take pride in being part of the Doctor Who journey.

Now with dimensional defects behind them for the time being, the Doctor and Clara can hopefully have a well-earned break in the city that wakes up when many others slumber - Las Vegas!

But they must be prepared for two-bit gangsters, corrupt hotel-casino owners, and an alien creature that is far more dangerous than either of these.

The Doctor is dressed for the occasion...inasmuch as he dons a top hat and carries himself like a regular participant in the high stakes environment

 

Although this is another Twelfth Doctor/Clara story which can be enjoyed perfectly well stand alone, it also manages to keep building on previous stories and carve out its own character development for the heroic duo. It also charmingly has recognisable tributes to real life legends like 'Sonny' Liston and Frank Sinatra and his Rat Pack.

Somewhat curiously this opener effectively has two 'pre-credit' sequences: one establishing the historic danger of the Cybock Imperium insofar as Rassilon and the Time Lords quested to purge various dangerous races (other than the Hyperions), and one showing what that race can do with its technology against mere Earthlings.

 

Count D'If makes a very memorable character even if he just appears fleetingly. The concept of a Time-Gun fitted with a Time-Bomb is also exciting, and adds yet more substance to the Time War which many of Titan's readers recently saw in the Four Doctors.

 

Mariano Laclustra returns as a supporting artist, and with Brian Williamson as his partner there is another very effective synergy of creative vision. Needless to say at this point Robbie Morrison is an assured master of his storytelling craft and does very well with developing his ambitious but coherent premise.

I myself can connect with the setting, if not the 1960s time zone,  owing to my tour of the West states of America many moons ago as a teenager. I remember Vegas being a town all of its own, with both some terrible gaudiness and some inspired uniqueness. My many viewings of Diamonds Are Forever probably informed some expectations as well.  The use of the setting is as much front and centre for a Doctor Who story as any and the characters feel authentic and identifiable as a result of this care. There is a palpable sense of danger and threat, but also fun, frivolity and betting games galore.

The opening chapter puts many cards on the table that are required for fans to be thrilled and mentally challenged, but holding some back that will surprise and delight... at least until Issue 10 is brought into proceedings. 

 

Bonus Humour Strip

Day of the Tune sees Colin Bell and Neil Slorance team up once again to this time offer a fun musically themed mini-sized-adventure. Set on the planet Karaoke, but mostly consists of banter between Clara and her glowering Gallifreyan friend. Yet, while this functions fine on its own, it promises further exploration of the setting and the musical themes in at least one more instalment. There is a good helping of past versions of the Doctor with a single panel 'flashback', but which ones is best revealed if you get yourself a copy of this fine comic.

So much for that, one might think. For the Doctor, his once-beloved sonic screwdriver seems to be a compromised object, reminding him of failures of ethics and manipulations past. However, Steven Moffat has hinted that this is not the end for the sonic screwdriver; and The Wand Company will be hoping so too as they have launched a new Twelfth Doctor’s Sonic Screwdriver model in time for the Christmas market, a ‘fully-functioning gesture-based universal remote control’ and extendable replica of the most recent sonic screwdriver prop, with which one can control a vast range of gadgets around the home while remembering less conflicted times for the Doctor.

Speaking to a gathering of correspondents from several Doctor Who websites in September, Wand Company co-founder Chris Barnardo explained that although they already had a universal remote control based on this sonic screwdriver on the market, messages from fans since that product’s launch had convinced them to engineer an extendable version which more closely mimicked the action of the prop seemed on television. The old model, marketed as The Eleventh Doctor’s Sonic Screwdriver, had sold over 55 000 units.

The main difference between old and new models is the extension function, but there has been detailed retooling of other components. Just as the sonic screwdriver prop has become weathered since it was first used on set in 2009, the new commercial model now uses a darker, flecked ivory colouring in the acetyl handle to reflect the original’s greater age. Another challenge was the light, which needs to be part of the extending section. The barrel is too small to accommodate a connecting ribbon to carry electricity and data, so instead the electrics stay put and the sonic’s familiar green light is reflected up the extended barrel. The old ‘steampunk’ horizontal stand has been superseded by a clear plastic ‘Gallifreyan stand for vertical presentation’.

Chris Barnardo and Richard Blakesley, founders of The Wand Company, are both engineers, and Chris’s creative endeavours beyond his design work have included a speculative script submitted to Star Trek: Voyager. Chris was at pains to point out that the licence gives them no initiative in the design of the sonic screwdriver prop used in the series, or developments that may happen on screen, which is firmly the prerogative of Steven Moffat and the other writers. Other ideas which they’d be tempted by would be sonic lipstick, but they are wary of products which might only appeal to one sex; asked about a vortex manipulator model, Chris replied that if enough people wrote in and proved there was demand, they’d consider developing a copy and launching it on to the market.

While Chris chatted with attendees and advised on how to flick the sonic screwdriver in order to change its settings, representatives of BBC Worldwide were also present with various BBC Shop exclusives including Christmas jumpers and canvas bags, and early news – since developed further – on Lego Dimensions and the DVD release of The Underwater Menace. Most of Television Centre may be a building site, but BBC Worldwide in the former News Stage remain a centre of activity and their concern for maintaining the prominence of Doctor Who and communicating with the fan market was amply demonstrated.