At this point in its history, Human Nature is pretty much as perfect a story as I think Doctor Who is capable of producing on TV. Even the arguable classics of the new series (themselves all too few and far between) haven't come anywhere close to this -- even Dalek, The Girl in the Fireplace, et al.

It just seems such a shame that, to my mind, the only real, true brilliance of what are destined to become 'the RTD years' is taken wholesale from the NAs. I love the New Adventures, but I don't see that that should be any barrier to appreciating the series in the way I do the 'classic' TV stories; but, quite simply, the new series simply hasn't even aimed at creating anything comparable to the complexity, originality and emotion of the best of those novels. Everything's straightforward and easy to grasp on one viewing; it's all very dumbed down and very Saturday night?

So, on the one hand I feel vindicated that the best story of the new run derives from those books, but it's a depressing proposition that no brand new story has been anywhere near as fully-formed or multilayered as this adaptation.

Even the way in which the narrative strayed outside of the given 'here and now': to Tim's glimpses of the future - the war, the memorial; to the flashbacks of past stories, which were effectively and economically used; down to the voiceover handling of the ending. Even the three-month time span -- a welcome exception to the adventures more usual seeming to take place over only a day or so. Sadly, I doubt any of these techniques would have been employed had the script not derived from a story from a 'broader' medium than television -- born out by the fact that no other story of the new series have been quite this audacious or wide-ranging. In this way, the story felt like a 'novel on film,' rather than a simply televisual creation.

Can anyone else even believe that this and Gridlock are the products of a common series? Perhaps if Russell T Davies weren't so monumentally arrogant about his own ability as a writer (or having his ego so fully and inexplicably stroked by seemingly everyone who works with him), he'd be cringing with mortified jealousy round about now.

It really seems as if the stakes were ramped up for this production, as if, because of its origins as a novel, people realised there was more behind it than the majority of stories. I've never even been that much of an admirer of Cornell -- it's always seemed to me he has the ideas, but they're let down by slightly pedestrian prose. Here, freed from those constraints, it was wonderful to see the plot refined, and imbued with a loving attention to detail.

The continuity references, for example were rather joyous, but not overplayed -- the music accompanying the sinister schoolgirl from Remembrance of the Daleks momentarily echoed for the Family's youngest sibling; the reference to the village's dust being 'fused into glass,' alluding to the sequence cut from the novel in which the school itself is turned to glass; and, most charmingly of all, the sketch of the Eighth Doctor in John Smith's journal. That warmed the old cockles -- wonderful how such a tiny thing (that'd be overlooked by the vast majority of the audience) could be so heartening; it's wonderful to see McGann's portrayal vindicated by the new series, even only so briefly.

The ending though came close to ruining things for me -- the Doctor devising elaborate punishments for the Family? Given that this sequence was narrated by one of their number, I immediately assumed that it was intended to appear unreliable -- it's just so jarringly? wrong. The Doctor doesn't do this sort of thing? it's just so off. Which, given Cornell's obvious understanding of Doctor Who and what it stands for, seems all the more bizarre.

I'm telling myself that perhaps that along with the Doctor's Runaway Bride callousness, this is leading somewhere. But, I'm not convinced -- like the Sixth Doctor's worst excessive which everyone gets so het up about, the problem for me was there wasn't even anyone to question his actions. Are we meant to suddenly accept the Doctor -- someone the episodes tried so hard to persuade us was worth fighting for -- is the kind of man to truss up his enemies and kick them into the centre of suns?? The whole sequence had a kind of unreal or storybook feel, so here's hoping there's something clever going on there. Even the NA Seventh Doctor at his most pitiless would never actively punish an adversary -- perhaps the worst would be to not save them from someone else, but even he (arguably the most godlike and terrible Doctor - until now, perhaps?!) -- never stooped to undeniable, deliberate sadism.

So it's sad to say that really struck me as a jarring moment in an otherwise note perfect story.

Although, it is kind of amusing -- or a bit depressing, depending -- that, in a wonderful but essentially Doctorless story, when he does reappears, he's being such an annoying tit.

Not that I dislike Tennant. But still, imagine that story with Sylvester? And Bernice come to that. I say that and I like Martha! It does just show though -- despite the strong script, complemented by great character moments, the backdrop of the oncoming war, and some very nice, non-'mainstream' directorial touches (the children's singing over the slow-mo shooting of the scarecrows, etc)? I still just crave the NAs. Because it makes me sad that, despite the highs the new series can evidently reach, a story this strong is definitely in the minority. (And the NAs might seem a defunct reference now, but, it a way, a story like this defies direct comparison to the classic series because then the idea of making fully emotional 'dramas' wasn't the concern; the NAs et al are much more the precursor to what seems, to a general audience, to be this 'brave new approach' to the series?)

However, this story really shows how much difference it makes when a story is written by someone with an abiding love and understanding of not just the series, but Doctor Who in a broader sense - as opposed to the kind of jobbing writer approach of School Reunion (compare and contrast these two stories set around a school, in which the Doctor takes the role of a teacher?), or 42 (a less developed Satan Pit rip-off).

I desperately want to love the new series, but it never quite delivers. Yes, I'm probably being harsh - but having a high-point like this almost makes it worse. Even if you're trying to be charitable about the 'average' episodes, you suddenly can't kid yourself about how vapid and hollow and unoriginal the majority of them really are?

A lot of people over the years have said it's the best Doctor Who novel ever. Personally I think it's far from perfect: naturalism is often a problem, and so is melodrama, for the novel inhabits the Cornell-verse, a peculiar take on reality in which all soldiers are cowards and any problem can be solved simply by complete emotional honesty. It has a whacking great info-dump half way through that takes you right out of the story, and the wisecracking, self-aware dialogue is such that companion Benny's speech patterns are indistinguishable from those of the villains (an alien race called the Aubertides who want to conquer Gallifrey and become Time Lords using the Doctor's DNA). Nevertheless, the strength of the fundamental conceit, the Doctor's desire to escape from his cold, inhuman Time Lord existence and become a human being, and the consequences it has for the people around him, makes it a big winner in spite of everything. And it benefits greatly from a hilarious cameo by Steven Moffat, writer of two new series stories!

That was why, before this latest two-parter, I was concerned by all the potential changes that Cornell and Davies would have to make, and a bit miffed at the implicit suggestion that this was somehow going to be 'Human Nature done right': it was bad enough that the new series has already comprehensively demolished any chance of reconciling the novels with the TV show (for those who care about that sort of thing, which I must confess I do!), and this was the final confirmation: 'Human Nature' (1995) and 'Human Nature/The Family of Blood' presumably can't take place in the same continuity any more than 'The Gallifrey Chronicles' and 'Aliens of London' can. Bad enough, as I say; but for the new series to just carelessly invalidate the book lines, which are responsible for many of Doctor Who's finest moments, symbolically painting over them like an artist revising an imperfect work, was a presumption too far.

It isn't quite clear, though, that that is in fact what they've done, which is a blessing anyway, and the pictures in Smith's journal during part one of previous Doctors was balm for the possible sting. In fact, part one is really excellent; mostly, I think, because it's so very different to anything in the series revival so far. All that greenery: because when you think about it, every single episode so far has either been set in a huge city or a claustrophobic, metallic 'space base' (with the possible exception of the one set in Scotland, which was mostly in doors and at night anyway). The relaxed pace and unusual plot (for the series post-2005 anyway, which is ironically all monsters, corridors and sarcasm) contribute to the feeling of novelty.

Jessica Hynes, as Joan Redfern (now a nurse not a teacher, in a change which actually does enhance the original novel), is superbly clipped and loveable, and Martha's jealousy puts her in just as unflattering a light as did Benny's, though she at least has the excuse of being madly in love with the (now sexy and young-looking) Doctor, and Harry Lloyd makes a fabulously alien and unhinged Baines. The villains, in fact, without 255 pages in which to do post-modern things, are in a sense a rather better bunch than the Aubertides in the novel, though they lack the back-story and grisly personalities.

The problems, then, do not surface until part two, but when they come they are familiar from the original novel, but given added impetus by what we have seen in the new series so far. This basic conception of the Doctor as a lonely, tormented figure was fine in the New Adventures, but as time has gone on it's become clear just how far removed it was from the spirit of the original series: watch any of those old stories from before 1988 and see what I mean. Now that the revival has enshrined it (with all this 'Lonely God' nonsense) it's like the whole history of the show has been retconned in a way I can't say I'm totally happy with. Far, far worse though, is the way 'The Family of Blood' dredges up a horror from Series One that I dared to hope we'd seen the back of. "Coward!" shouts Hutchinson. "Oh yes, every time", replies Tim with satisfaction. Yep, it's 'The Parting of the Ways' again.

It is, and was, utterly, self-evidently, indescribably wrong to describe the Doctor as "coward rather than killer". It's become Russell Davies' answer to the famous lines coined by Terrance Dicks to describe the essence of the man, which remain to this day immeasurably superior and a far better template for our hero? and in which, I seem to recall, the words "never cruel or cowardly" feature prominently. Go figure. It's such a small thing here as well, but it ruined the episode for me.

As for the rest, Cornell resuscitates the concept of gratuitous racism on Joan's behalf, just to make sure we don't get to like her a bit too much; and his own particular hobby-horse comes out again with the scarecrows' attack on the school, although admittedly in not such an overbearing way as in the book: the notion that Smith is taking the easy way out by choosing to fight, while the morally superior Tim runs away to do something else, and that his mustering of a defence by the militarily-trained and heavily-armed pupils is somehow the wrong thing to do.

It's completely counter-intuitive, part of the "coward rather than killer" idea, but something which I can't blame RTD for because Cornell was already using it 12 years ago: it doesn't seem to factor in that sometimes it can take enormous bravery to fight (what else does the Doctor spend his life doing?), and that Smith, backed into a corner with no other options, is really taking the obvious course of action. So why is Martha's immediate reaction, like Benny's, that the Doctor wouldn't want this? And as for the ending! The cruel ways in which the Doctor ultimately disposes of his enemies is far worse, morally, than simply leaving them on the spaceship to be blown up would have been, something that Doctors have been doing all through time and space since 1963: another inconsistency.

One last complaint: although Smith's romance with Joan is wonderfully touching, and a salutary example to 'The Girl in the Fireplace' and the whole Rose story-arc of how to do a romance for the Doctor right, it ends on a duff note when the returning Doctor offers to take her along for the ride at the end, claiming that he is capable of doing everything Smith could have done. Well, maybe, these days, but in contrast to the Seventh Doctor's sorrowful incomprehension and alien asexuality, this definitely undermines the central story, although having the Doctor only become human as a throwaway solution to a temporary problem rather than because of genuine, psychologically complex needs, had rather done it already by that point. In spite of this, watching part one I was fervently wishing that this was the first time the new series had given the Doc a lady friend -- yet another reason why romanticising the character in the first place was a terrible mistake.

So in conclusion, a two-parter redolent with frustrated promise that was let down by things that most people, I'm uncomfortably aware, would see as trivial; but still, given that it's taken nine episodes for Series Three to offer an episode that left me as disappointed and deflated as all those Series One and Two stories.

Oh dear...

Actually, that opening phrase doesn't refer to 'Human nature/ Family of blood', but the fact that a production like this, sits alongside the various levels of dross that have comprised series 3 to date.

Right from the opening scene with its palpable sense of urgency (nicely edited reverse angles of the Doctor working the controls) this effort seemed to be operating on a higher level and for the last two weeks it's been like a different show... the kind it should be more often then not!

Everything seemed better pitched, the characters more defined, the historical setting more believable (all it takes is a good location scout), the direction tighter, the casting better (the supporting cast having the appropriate air and look for the period), the FX work better (no overstretching) and most importantly... it had a story.

Yeah... that's right. A story!

A story with it's own internal logic (a rarity in new Who), a story not dressed up in clich?, wonkoid science, or borrowed from a better source. A story allowed to unfold without the usual hurry, unburdened by the desire to pack in as much as possible in as little time as possible. A story with genuine emotion as opposed to manipulative sentimentality. A story with no silly 'broad' humour, and finally, a story which, despite it's fantasy leanings, never felt less than confident to bear the weight it's time period carried, the first World war hanging like a dark pall over the tale from beginning to end.

There were of course faults (nothings perfect). Plot wise, Martha should have been given possession of the watch, not the Doctor (which made no real sense considering the circumstances). Then again, something had to motor the plot along, so as a story device, this was a more forgivable anomaly then the show usually offers. In the acting stakes, Tennant and Agyeman seemed a little inadequate alongside the unusually good supporting cast ( Hynes, Sangster, Lloyd, and in lesser roles, pretty much everyone else). To be fair, Tennant had a lot to do, and he did pretty much run the acting gamut. His eyes still bulged a little too much, and his facial expressions were a little too overstated when acting alongside the more naturalistic Jessica Hynes, to fully convince, however. That said, I much preferred the vulnerable John Smith persona to his smatarse portrayal of the Doctor, and Charles Palmer rightfully reigned him in for the final scenes when Smith was gone. Actually, if Tennant played the part entirely as he did during the last ten minutes I'd like him a damnsite better then I do.

Agyeman, it has to be said, was noticeably struggling. She's just not that great an actress, likeable... yes, but without the skill to convey the weight of character and delivery (which, sometimes, just seemed off) this story demanded. Joan, would never have become a companion, (cos' the kid's would have had difficulty relating to her, though a character like this wouldn't have been out of place in the original series) but she would have been far more interesting then Martha, and this story only really served to throw up just how lightweight Agyeman / Martha is.

The scarecrows were a bit naff (though not a bad idea, by any means) with their 'Wizard of Oz' gait, however, I'm viewing them with adult eyes and I'm pretty sure you're average ten year old and under would have thought differently. The courtyard 'shoot em up' was well handled with it's well judged slo-mo inserts and I liked it's allegorical leanings (the youths themselves would be mown down, like so many scarecrows, in the coming years... see what I mean about operating on a higher level). Compare this sequence with the similar set piece in Hooverville in 'Evolution' and you'll see what Palmer brought to this particular gig.

All in, then, it was a strong production in virtually ever department. It was, however Paul Cornell who shone the brightest, delivering, to my mind, the best written episodes of New Who to date. His understanding of the Doctor seems way beyond RTD, and indeed Moffats (I still cringe at the thought of that drunk scene in 'Girl in the fireplace'). While the various punishments dished out to the family seemed a little like a cop out storywise, they also gave the Doctor a mythic quality and this hitherto unexplored aspect seems entirely appropriate considering his somewhat God like abilities. This is a facet that should be run with (but probably won't).

Elsewhere, Gold did his customary fine bit, with an appropriately soaring eulogy at the end. He'll bugger off when RTD steps down, I would imagine (he may well go sooner if the movie world beckons) and the show will be the lesser for it. Good editing, and sound design (I'm a sucker for the 'thrunch' of bullets ripping through straw) rounded the package off. There's plenty more nice thing's to mention, but I'm sure they'll be covered by other reviewers (unless this story is considered crappy by everyone except me, in which case'I'll just crawl into a corner, to ponder how out of touch I am with the world, and probably never recover!!!)

In closing, this was a glimpse at the kind of show 'Who' can so clearly be when the right people are at the helm, both episodes embracing the solid tradition of superior British storytelling as opposed to American (we just can't beat them at they're own game, so why bother... we shouldn't even be wanting to). In fact, I can't imagine a single American show (Sci-Fi or not) that would even attempt to put something like this together (they do 'slick', they do 'sentimental' but they don't often do gravitas!).

This two parter was well written (it might even spark some interest in the first world war with some kids who otherwise have shown none), well paced, well acted and well directed!

I just wish (placed in the latter half of a poor season) it didn't feel so much like a glitch!

Aside from the emotional finale in Doomsday, I don't remember the last Doctor Who episode that had me rewinding back to scenes multiple times and still experience the same thrill I got when I first watched them.

This was an episode that stands out as a classic. It was well-acted, atmospheric and downright creepy

The scene is set from the start. Spooky house (the line from Larry about Sally living in Scooby Doo's house was great) and strange messages from the Doctor hidden behind the wallpaper. Quite how the owners of the house didn't see the messages when they put the wallpaper up is a question that doesn't really need answering. This is the Doctor contacting Sally from nearly 40 years previously.

The potential of the episode is realised when Kathy's grandson delivers her message to Sally on the date and time that his grandmother insisted upon. Kathy, hiding behind the door, is unaware of the angel behind her. The reveal shots that show how the statue has moved are unexpected and worth waiting for. You never know when the angels are going to appear.

Throughout the episode, the camera work to imply movement works hundreds of times better than actually *seeing* the angels move. Quick cuts as the four angels are moving in on Sally and Larry along with the musical score helps to keep up the tension.

One slight niggle with this was the reveal of the feral angel face rather than the calm one, when Sally and Larry realise that both of them have taken their eyes off the statue. I have to say, it still made me jump as was intended, but an implied threat is far more effective. The robots in Robots of Death didn't need expressions to be scary.

Did this episode benefit or suffer from the lack of the Doctor's physical presence ? Unlike "Love and Monsters" last season, I'd say a resounding no. There was enough of him as a guide in this episode to firmly anchor it. I don't want to spend too much time comparing "Blink" with "Love and Monsters" but L&M was an experiment that had great potential but was ultimately let down by the Abzorbaloff. I've read the various threads on the Outpost Gallifrey forums where there is a definite divide between lovers and haters. The lovers explain that L&M was told from Elton's perspective and, as such, is less reliable in it's narrative, the haters focus on the Abzorbaloff. The lovers enjoy the effect that the Doctor has had on the various characters' lives, the haters focus on the Abzorbaloff. I'm not a hater but, it has to be said, none of the pre-show publicity was about how the episode was an enjoyable description of a group of people, with a common interest in the Doctor, getting together to discuss their experiences. No, it was a collection of pictures on how Peter Kay was going to be dressed in a green fat suit designed by a Blue Peter competition winner. If Peter Kay had remained as the Victor Kennedy character, I would have enjoyed the episode more because I thought he acted very well. As the Abzorbaloff, he was Peter Kay.

"Blink", on the other hand, was a traditional episode. No narration, no commentary. This was the viewer watching events unfolding rather than being told what was going on.

Carey Mulligan was excellent as Sally Sparrow. She was sensible, down-to-earth and, importantly, intelligent. Her realisation that she was the crux of events was well done and it was good to see that she wasn't star struck when she finally met the Doctor. I would have preferred that Finlay Robertson hadn't played Larry like the eldest son in My Family but it didn't detract from the overall story. Everyone else was really extra to the narrative apart from Billy Shipton. I admit that I didn't like the "wide boy" approach of young Billy but old Billy, played by Louis Mahoney, was a poignant character who had lived knowing the precise time that he was going to die and holding out until he'd met up with Sally again.

This was the third (or fourth ?) episode that was based on previously published works. I don't have a problem with this. If I were a Doctor Who author (and there are many days when I wish I was) and Russell T. Davies approached me to film an episode based on one of my books, I would feel this would be a dream come true. If you're immersed in Doctor Who, as we know a lot of the writers are, who wouldn't be crying like a baby to know that you contributed to the canon of your favourite series ? Okay, maybe it's just me then !

Steven Moffat has demonstrated that he's supremely capable of writing for Doctor Who. The Empty Child, The Girl in the Fireplace and now Blink are all standout episodes. Long may it continue.

ZOMG ZOMG ZOMG BEST EPISODE OF THE SEASON HANDS DOWN.

No, seriously. As jaw-droppingly awesome as "Human Nature" / "The Family of Blood" were this one takes the season. And look at that, another Steven Moffat episode immediately follows a Paul Cornell one (as "The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances" followed "Father's Day" in Season 1) and immediately pwns it around the block and twice on Sundays.

No there wasn't much of the Doctor in this one but anyone who read the New Adventures shouldn't be too put off by this. Hell, my favorite one (Warlock by Andrew Cartmel) barely had him at all. Doesn't mean it can't be a great Doctor Who story tho, and this one certainly worked. It was scary, which is what allegedly all great Who stories are supposed to be. The Angels were, no pun intended, a sight to behold. Once again continuing the theme of Moffat's of faceless monsters: as the Empty Child wore a gas mask, and the Clockworks wore masks to disguise their faceless ticking heads, the Angels cover theirs with their own hands so as not to look upon one another. Moffat has an obsession with faceless menaces, but let's face it (oo, another bad pun), it works!

With its time travel elements and influences, once again, by the new wave of Japanese horror flicks, "Blink" just GETS to you. Yes it does. Bet you'll never look at statues, or DVD extras, the same way ever again...

And frankly, if you didn't love this episode, you need to quit watching Doctor Who because you'll never get it, ever, and you therefore need a different hobby. Seriously. I'm hardlining on this one. Not even Jack's return next week will temper my resolve on this one, so, you know. Get with it, y'all.

The serious amount of hype from the production team for this episode has ultimately served to be its undoing for me. No episode could have lived up to the 'scariest episode yet' tag and completely fulfilled the brief of being 'Doctor-Lite'. In the end it was a good episode, where expectations for it to perform were unfeasibly high, but I do think it suffered from the lack of the Doctor and Martha dynamic and relied on surrogate companions that you needed more time with to develop the necessary emotional connections.

If you look at 'Love And Monsters' from last year, which was also fulfilling the same brief, it connected not just to the Doctor and Rose but also to the supporting characters and environs that Rose brought to the series. There was a direct connection to Jackie, to the estate and to events past with the flashbacks to the Autons, the Slitheen and the Sycorax. In 'Blink' I think the hardest thing I struggled with was this lack of connection - perhaps it should have featured Tish or connected more to the locations and spaces in which the Jones family operate?

It had a water-tight 'time travel' plot full of conundrums, something which Moffat always excells at, and some very witty lines which again he's good at, particularly his jibe at the nit-pickers of the on-line community with the 'wrong size windows' line where the police officer is describing the TARDIS to Sally, the penchants of drama commissioners at ITV with the 'Sparrow and Nightingale' gag ('Rosemary and Thyme', take a bow) and the effects of a 'timey-wimey' detection device on hens - that would be a sight to see!

The triumph of the episode certainly lay in its desire to scare the living daylights out of its younger audience. With this in mind, 'Blink' connected directly to classic television scares such as 'Sapphire & Steel', 'Children Of The Stones' and 'Escape Into Night'. You could also connect this to 'Ghost Light' another Doctor Who story set in a strange old house. I am grateful that Moffat is bringing this kind of unsettling drama to a 21st Century child audience. And the idea of 'quantum lock' as a way that the angels manifested themselves took us into 'Schroedinger's Cat' territory too.

Children need to understand their fears and healthy scares are few and far between in today's 'cotton wool' television landscape. His concept of alien angels killing people by trapping them in the past and then feeding off the energy released was a beguiling one. Their predatory nature keyed in with the 'dare to scare' potential of children's playground games and it's the episode's ability to understand the psychology of of those games that provided the highlight for me. The most significant scene was certainly where Sally and Larry are trying to get into the TARDIS - you have double jeopardy from the advancing angels, brilliantly caught in those rapid cuts by director Hettie MacDonald, and the imminent demise of the lightbulb. What could be worse? - horrible things creeping up on you [I]and[/I] fear of the dark.

Sally Sparrow (another Moffat connection to last year's Doctor Who annual) was a likeable enough character, although I do think she took an awful lot in her stride to come across as entirely believable, and it's unfair to use her as a stick with which to beat Martha which seems to have been the tendency from other reviewers. I didn't feel as solidly connected to her as I did to Elton in 'Love And Monsters' and I put that down to too little emotional development and where Moffat did try to do this, it seemed a little forced because it hadn't been paid enough attention to during the rest of the story. Up until the final act of the episode, the pacing and development was a little slow and often padded but Carey Mulligan's central performance as determined yet vulnerable Sally did hold it together.

Hettie MacDonald also contributed some very atmospheric direction and editing, with the decaying house and its overgrown gardens populated by the observing angels providing potent images for young nightmares. The shots of the angels looking out of the windows of the old house, the backlit shot of Sally in the empty hospital ward and the quick cutting as the angels closed in were elements to be savoured. More women directors please!

It's difficult to comment on Tennant and Agyeman because obviously they're not in it very much at all but I did like the idea of having their presence strung through the story as an easter egg on a series of DVDs. It's a novel way of getting round the situation and the brief. The weakest performance was from Michael Obiora as the detective Billy. I'm afraid he didn't convince me that he was a detective. And I wasn't entirely sure the sub-plot about Kathy re-starting her life in 1920 actually came off and again I put that down to trying to keep a complex, logical plot together to the detriment of our emotional investment in these characters.

Overall a good episode that like 'Love And Monsters' finds the virtues of not having the Doctor and his companion as the focus of the story and therefore has an opportunity to approach the universe that the series inhabits from a very different point of view. It's refreshing that the series can continue to do this and I would certainly be delighted to see the Weeping Angels in a return match with the Doctor himself and a cameo for Sally in a future episode. It does not match 'Love And Monsters' for me. It doesn't have the same emotional connection that the characters, and by implication the audience, had with the Doctor's universe. And certainly Moffat's 'The Girl In The Fireplace' remains his best contribution to the series thus far.