I have to admit that I enjoyed this episode more than I thought I would. On the surface, itВ’s a mix of absurd story ideas. A love story for the Doctor is going to struggle against long odds just to be acceptable or believable, especially with the limited development time available in the 45 minute format.

And В“a spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18thВ” is certainly an inventive idea, but any attempt to explain why that is happening is going to strain credulity, even in a Doctor Who context.

LetВ’s start with the Doctor/Madame du Pompadour romance. IВ’ll be the first to admit that Sophia Myles is stunningly beautiful, and would no doubt turn the head of just about any red-blooded man who noticed her. SheВ’s also playing a character that was quite accomplished and intelligent in real life, and her performance brings that out fairly well in the limited time available. That being said, the Doctor isnВ’t normally given to noticing anyone, and indeed itВ’s possible to argue that the attraction in this story is one-sided. The advances and flirting certainly all come from Reinette, and the lengths that the Doctor is willing to go to in order to save her life and protect history (since history tells us that Madame du Pompadour did not die at the hands of clockwork robots) are perhaps no more than he would have done for anyone else.

The time needed for a genuine relationship to develop is the crucial missing element in the story, both for the Doctor and Reinette. At best she enjoys either flirting or toying with the Doctor, and he lets himself be pulled along perhaps by the sheer novelty of it all. Certainly he seems to treat her kiss as something to be proud of because of who it was that kissed him. В“IВ’ve just snogged Madame du Pompadour!В” he says exultantly, after first listing her accomplishments. As for her motives for kissing the Doctor when sheВ’d only met him twice as a child, who can say? It certainly doesnВ’t make much sense in the context of the story. To be honest, it makes her look rather easy. ThatВ’s not a character trait to admire. At least when she becomes involved with the King sheВ’s sleeping her way to the top, though that too is hardly admirable.

In essence what we have is not so much a love story as it is the story of Reinette perhaps trying to hold on to the mystery of this man who keeps appearing in her life. IВ’m just trying to explain whatВ’s on screen. WeВ’re told itВ’s a love story, but the events that are acted out for us donВ’t support that description. ThereВ’s no time for love to develop, and thereВ’s no depth to the relationship. Perhaps Reinette hopes that a good kiss and some flirtation will entice the В“Fireplace ManВ” to remain longer so that she can learn more about him. After all itВ’s worked on other men in her life. This theory holds at least until the point the Doctor suddenly gains the ability to read minds and has his read in return. There certainly appears to be a bit more genuine affection in the final scenes where Reinette tells the Doctor about the one remaining link back to the spacecraft. The two seem very relaxed and happy in each others company, and the DoctorВ’s sadness at ReinetteВ’s death is certainly heartfelt. Once he opened the letter and knew that she had never seen him again, going back to visit her in the TARDIS became impossible.

So where did this ability to read minds come from? WeВ’ve never seen it before, though I admit itВ’s plausible given the DoctorВ’s limited use of telepathy in the past. Susan displayed some talent for telepathy, the Master was able to hypnotize rather easily, and Time Lords are supposed to enjoy telepathy among themselves, so itВ’s not inconceivable that the Doctor suddenly has the ability to mind-meld with a human. ItВ’s just highly convenient as a plot device.

ItВ’s so highly convenient that IВ’m tempted to be really irritated at the sudden appearance of the DoctorВ’s new ability, but IВ’ll let it go. Convenient or not, itВ’s certainly a shortcut around the time limitations of the episode and suddenly the Doctor and Reinette are intimately acquainted. Just how intimately acquainted depends on whether the В‘danceВ’ metaphor from last season still refers to sex and whether the Doctor went along for the ride. You can read it either way. If you like the Doctor as a cosmic Casanova who beds attractive women he barely knows while heВ’s supposed to be in love with Rose, you can read events one way. If you prefer a more virtuous Time Lord, you can go that route, despite the obvious intent of the author.

During the final encounter with the robots, the dramatic entrance of the Doctor as a heroic В‘knight on a white stallionВ” is entirely in keeping with the self-sacrificial nature of the character, though his abandonment of Mickey and Rose is hard to explain. He saves ReinetteВ’s life, but (as far as he knows) strands himself in 17th century France, and strands his traveling companions in a 51st century spaceship with no means of returning home. When he asks Rose, В“how long did you wait?В” it doesnВ’t really make sense. Neither she nor Mickey can fly the TARDIS, and the Doctor is surely aware of that. What else could they do but wait? Perhaps itВ’s just a case of the Doctor trying to save face and mend hurt feelings.

Moving right along, thereВ’s a lot less to say about the clockwork robots, proving yet again that this series of Doctor Who frequently puts character above plot, which is detrimental to the story far too often. Plot holes are papered over with sentiment while the writer hopes the audience wonВ’t notice or wonВ’t care. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesnВ’t. I think that the attempt is successful in В“The Girl in the FireplaceВ”, though in all honestly I must confess that the story is crazy. As a means of tying the spacecraft and France together, we have repair robots who create time windows and travel back in time to find the person their ship is named after, so that they can use her brain to repair the main computer, but only when sheВ’s the same age as the spaceship. ItВ’s so off-the-wall and creative that IВ’m willing to enjoy the idea tremendously and buy right into the premise.

The robots themselves are inventive, from their mannequin-like period dress and masks, to the clockwork-filled clear heads underneath. Having the first one that we encounter hiding under a childВ’s bed is just a wonderful conceit.

I have to address the issue of В‘self-awarenessВ’ in the new series of Doctor Who. I would define this as actions or dialog which pulls me out of the story and reminds me that yes, I am watching a TV program. This is frequently a failing of Russel Davies scripts, but it crops up here as well. В“The Doctor and the monsters,В” Reinette says at one point. В“It seems you cannot have one without the other.В” And with that meta-textual line my suspension of disbelief is shattered and IВ’m thinking about Doctor Who the program rather than remaining engaged in the story. Any time that someone says В“Doctor Who?В” it does the same thing. And itВ’s very annoying.

There are other things to like about this story apart from the Doctor/Reinette relationship and the robots. ItВ’s MickeyВ’s first trip in the TARDIS, and his enthusiasm is wonderful to watch. The fact that he and Rose get along with no hint of RoseВ’s usual jealous streak is a breath of fresh air. IВ’m sick of RoseВ’s jealously and tired of the character for that matter. It just seems like her story was told last year, and thereВ’s not really anything new to say about her. ItВ’s a lot like Charley Pollard, whose story came to a good conclusion in В“NeverlandВ” and then the character seemed to stagnate. Rose has been irritating in В“New EarthВ”, В“Tooth and ClawВ”, and especially in В“School ReunionВ” where the claws came out with Sarah Jane. SheВ’s much better here, and I hope continues to do well in future. As of this writing I havenВ’t seen any stories beyond В“The Girl in the FireplaceВ”, so I donВ’t know how the character develops over the remainder of the season.

Some of the dialog is almost poetic. References to В“The slow pathВ” to describe linear time, or ReinetteВ’s phrase В“In your world there are rooms where the days of my life are pressed together like the pages of a bookВ” are wonderful to hear.

Overall, the story has an appeal that transcends the crazy premise, but it never lives up to the billing as В‘a love story for the DoctorВ’. But it is inventive, itВ’s different and itВ’s sincere, which sets it apart and elevates it above much of the new series. ItВ’s well worth the time to watch it.

Not so long ago, in an English springtime...

There are one or two people I know who, upon hearing that the producers were about to embark on yet another "adaptation" of a beloved piece of Doctor Who writing, immediately decided that blasphemy had occurred. Never mind the fact that it would be Paul Cornell adapting his own material; Rob Shearman had done the same two years prior with the loose adaptation of his audio "Jubilee" turned into the brilliant "Dalek," and last year's best-foot-forward attempt by Tom MacRae to capture the essence of the audio "Spare Parts" by Marc Platt in the two-part "Rise of the Cybermen". There are reasons, after all, why Russell T Davies and Julie Gardner may want to look toward previously-written material: stories that won the hearts of fans might, in a larger venue, capture the hearts of the viewing public as well. For this attempt, there would be no obfuscation; Cornell was charged with a direct adaptation of his perhaps his most celebrated Doctor Who novel, "Human Nature," published in 1995, altering the characters (the Seventh Doctor and print companion Bernice Summerfield to current Tenth Doctor and Martha Jones) but keeping the rest.

I have a confession to make: I never read "Human Nature". I was rather picky with the print Doctor Who I read at the time, and a boys' school in 1914, I must admit, never really interested me. When I first heard Paul was adapting his novel, some time ago, I pulled it off the shelf but never actually opened the book; why ruin the surprise? I knew two things -- the setting, and that the Doctor became human.

What goes around, comes around, and in retrospect I made the right choices. For ninety well-spent minutes, in one sitting, "Human Nature" and "The Family of Blood" (which I will refer to as "Human Nature" in entirety in the remainder of this review) unfolded like an epic treat, with all the benefits a two-part story presents these days: adventure, drama, a cliffhanger that excites and moments of insight that challenge. It is, first of all, an exploration of human nature itself, what it means to be human. More importantly, it is an examination of just how inhuman the Doctor truly is. David Tennant has perhaps never been as strong as he is here, creating a character in John Smith that is truly different and unique from that of the Doctor. When we first meet him, it is but a superficial change, an educator's hat and black robes, but soon we realize the change is far greater than that. This is a man capable of love, of humility, of stuttering through an entire conversation about a topic he has very limited experience with: romantic interest, specifically from Joan Redfern (Jessica Hynes, in an equally magnificent performance). His depth of feeling for the humble nurse Joan is readily apparent, his mannerisms quite a change from the usual no-nonsense attitude; when he takes the tumble down a flight of stairs, nervously making his way through a non-invitation to the local dance, it is not the Doctor -- the Doctor is far away, in another lifetime. In that moment where Tennant is ready to take up the role of the Doctor again, aboard the Family's spacecraft, it is not a subtle change -- it is forceful and amusing and absolutely real, and Tennant demonstrates the power of his performance simply by being a different man. What hurts most of all is the debate -- should the Doctor return, or should John Smith carry on with his life? There are merits to both sides, with a heart-wrenching look into a future that will likely never happen favoring the latter, and our own sensibilities which would otherwise root for the former option being checked.

I've read many comments on the Internet about the moments in which people teared up while watching this story. For me, it wasn't the heartbreak of watching Smith and Joan parting for what would likely be the last time, or the funeral piece at the end, but the words of truth from young Tim Latimer (played by Thomas Sangster, in one of the finest performances by a child actor to grace a Doctor Who story) ... everything about the Doctor being fire and ancient and all that, but the moment I cracked was when Tim said he was 'wonderful'. Up until that moment, I was really waffling on whether or not John Smith should accept his fate; then, all of the pent-up emotion of the Doctor being the selfless hero, the one man standing against the evil of the universe came flooding back.

But "Human Nature" questions that in another moment of brilliance, as Joan asks him if all of the death and destruction around them would have happened if the Doctor hadn't chosen 1913 England on a whim. It is rare form when Doctor Who questions its own existence, and this is another of Cornell's strengths -- not just playing to the audience with the fear and the humor and the romance and the adventure, but asking pointed questions to an audience that may have become used to black and white instead of the shades of grey that exist in life. Unsatisfied with questioning the hero's role in the events that have unfolded, "Human Nature" further explores the depths to which the Doctor will go to satisfy his moral objectives: he will not murder his opponents, but in fact subjects them to a fate worse than death. Would murder have been the easy way out for the Family of Blood? Or are they now subject to a malevolence not unlike torture?

Director Charles Palmer demonstrates tremendous skill in his cinematography, capturing the essence of 1913 England beautifully, while an exceptional cast handles the story with ease. Besides Hynes and Sangster, Harry Lloyd is a stand-out as Jeremy Baines, the troubled schoolboy who becomes the warmongering Son of Mine. (Has there ever been a guest star on Doctor Who who demonstrates such otherworldliness and creepiness with a tick of the head and eyes like the possessed?) Rebekah Staton (as Jenny, later Mother of Mine) gives another equally noteworthy performance, first as the standard 'period housemaid' and later as the standard 'possessed villain' but excelling at both to feel as though they were played by two totally different actresses.

Freema Agyeman, meanwhile, like Tennant gives perhaps her best performance to date, as Martha discovers a terrible secret -- not that she is the Doctor's friend, or that the Family is after him, but that she is, in fact, far behind in the running to capture both John Smith's, and the Doctor's heart. Her reaction when John shows Nurse Redfern the pages of his 'Journal of Impossible Things' and comes across the sketch of Rose is yet another revelation, and Agyeman plays Martha as if she is struggling against her own convictions. (Another heartbreaking moment, for me anyway: the Doctor invites Joan to join him in the TARDIS, the two of them together -- and never mentions Martha. I'm not sure I'm very happy with where this is leading...)

While Doctor Who often ignores its own past, "Human Nature" actually makes several references to its roots. The aforementioned 'Journal' and its caricatures not only of adversaries from the past three seasons but also the unmistakable features of Paul McGann, William Hartnell and Sylvester McCoy... John Smith's handiness with a cricket ball... even the lovely homage paid to Doctor Who founders Sydney Newman and Verity Lambert. It is always nice to see the past being paid service while still blazing new trails, and yet it is never done in a heavy-handed fashion. The past, in fact, is as important as the future is in "Human Nature," which explores both cause and effect, actions and consequences -- never moreso than in the aforementioned scene where Joan Redfern chastises the Doctor for bringing the death and destruction, the Family of Blood, and the life and death of one man, John Smith, upon them.

There are rare moments in Doctor Who history when everything comes together -- a perfect cast, a thrilling story, fantastic direction and a magic captured like lightning in a bottle. "City of Death" comes to mind from the original series, or "The Caves of Androzani" -- stories that take an already enjoyable concept and transcend the ordinary, becoming something unusually special. There have been many opportunities and many successes by this production team in three years, with bonified thespians in the roles of Doctor and companion, directors that blend subtleties with their talents, magic in the moments that define Doctor Who ? but rarely in combination. Steven Moffat's "The Empty Child" proved that writing Doctor Who had come of age; Davies' own "The End of the World" demonstrated that style played as important a role as substance. Of course, fans bandy about the term 'classic' so often that it fails to have any meaning anymore -- there are many other examples of fine moments of Doctor Who from the past three series, but what defines a genuine classic is when that cast and story and direction and production come together and create something far more. Dare I say it, but Paul Cornell's "Human Nature" -- and I'm not talking about the book I've never read -- is indeed worthy of the term. Three series of Doctor Who to date, and this is the best it's ever been.

I didn't want to see 'Human Nature' adapted for television: it's one of my favourite of the New Adventures, and I had a horrible feeling that the trappings of the new series would ruin it. It turns out I was wrong, since 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' is easily the best Doctor Who television story since the Welsh revival began.

In fact, 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' benefits the series enormously. Cornell's tale of a Doctor who becomes human is stripped down to the basics here, with much cut from the novel, including much of the rather hellish interaction between the pupils at the school and the headmaster. Everything focuses on John Smith, and by transforming the Doctor into a human, Cornell emphasises the fact that the Doctor isn't human: as such, the Doctor feels truly alien here for the first time since the new series started. The ending is startling: since the Family of Blood are different from the antagonists of the novel, I didn't know quite how they'd be defeated, and the voice-over from Son of Mine revealing how the Doctor trapped them all for eternity, gives the story -- and the Doctor -- a sense of the epic. The revelation that the Doctor chose to hide from them until they died not because he feared them but because he was being kind is utterly unexpected, and his revenge his terrible, Son-of-Mine noting "We wanted to live for ever, so he made sure we did". This all makes him seem genuinely dangerous in a way that he hasn't since, well, the New Adventures, with Tim's fear of the Doctor causing him to hold off on returning the watch, and Tim's speech about the nature of the Doctor, which could easily have been dreadful, is scripted just right, so it makes him seem mythic. His failure to leave Martha instructions as to what to do if he falls in love simply because it doesn't even occur to him is a nice touch, and one I didn't expect to see in this series. And the moment when Joan asks him he'll change back into John Smith and he firmly states "No" is great.

All of this is helped by the fact that John Smith also works as a character in his own right. As he falls in love with Joan, it's utterly believable, such that his anguish when faced with the difficult decision to sacrifice his life -- and everything that he could have as a human -- to restore the Doctor is heartbreaking. That he has "Doctorish" moments (the journal, and the magnificent cricket ball scene) only serves to make him seem extraordinary, so when he effectively dies, it has real impact. And David Tennant is key to this: there have been times in the series when he's been almost hammy, with some cringe-worthy moments as he has to handle self-consciously "wacky" dialogue, but 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' demonstrates just how good an actor he can be, as John tearfully and angrily realises that Martha is expecting him to throw his life away so that she can have her friend back. Especially notable is the moment of realisation when he insists, "I'm John Smith! That's all I want to be! With his life and his job!"

Martha also gets a great story, as she loyally takes care of the Doctor whilst he's John Smith. Wisely, Cornell doesn't just give her Benny's role from the novel, but instead tailors it to the character. For all that her declarations of love for the Doctor and anguish that he falls in love with a human other than her are bound to irritate some, Cornell handles it well: Martha comes out this looking not like someone with a schoolgirl crush, but a loyal and brave friend, which is what the companion should be, especially as she has to deal with the bigotry and prejudice of the times, something that Benny, who spent the early part of the novel getting pissed, didn't have to deal with. She also ends up looking very capable, especially during her face off with the Family: for a moment, when she establishes that Jenny is lost for ever, I really thought that she was going to shoot Mother-of-mine.

Thus, in plot and scripting terms, 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' is almost flawless. Cornell's politics tend to leap out of all his novels, to such a pious extent that they often alienate the readers, even those who, like me, tend to broadly agree with him. This is reigned in here, partly because timing means that the bullying and abuse of the novel is only alluded to. Amusingly and almost certainly unintentionally, the message that sending children to war is wrong ends up looking very muddied since, as John Smith points out, they don't have much chance here: Smith could feasibly have ended the attack by surrendering to the Family, but the consequences would have been so terrible that everyone would probably have ended up dead anyway. This ends up conveying an ambiguous message about the need to fight and give ones life for the greater good (as Smith does) in some situations, which is very Doctor Who (and what he vengefully does to the Family is almost as nightmarish as the World War One scenes), but not very Paul Cornell. Nevertheless, it works well, resulting in some genuinely moving scenes.

There's some fine support here from Jessica Hynes as Joan Redfern, who helps to make the character both believable and very sympathetic, and conveys a real sense of just how much Joan is giving up to save the world when she persuades John to become the Doctor again, whilst Thomas Sangster is also very good as Tim. Both episodes are also beautifully directed by Charles Palmer, who brings an almost fairytale feel to the flashbacks of the Doctor deciding to become human, and of montage of his defeat of the Family. And both episodes look stunning, with gorgeous location footage and sets, and some great design touches such as the Doctor's journal. The journal, incidentally, is a treat for long-time fans, with sketches of past Doctors, including McCoy, McGann and Hartnell, briefly visible on screen. This is the sort of unobtrusive continuity that pleases the old guard without baffling new fans, as is Smith revealing that his parents were called Sydney and Verity, and the musical cue that gives a nod to 'Remembrance of the Daleks'.

But whilst 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' is extremely good, it isn't perfect: Harry Lloyd is embarrassingly hammy as Baines/Son-of-mine, and Rebekah Staton and Gerald Horan as his parents are only marginally better, which makes the Family, despite their army of very creepy scarecrows, rather less impressive than they should have been. This is a shame, but it is by no means the greatest failing of the episodes: that lies with a familiar problem. On the commentary track for the Region 1 DVD release of 'The Armageddon Factor', director Michael Hayes mentions the old principle that the best incidental music is the kind that the audience doesn't notice, a view that I subscribe to, but which Murray Gold evidently does not. He has, by this point, ruined scenes in every single episode of the Welsh revival, but here, in a story that is generally outstanding, his abysmal, overblown musical tripe is smeared over the episodes to such an extent that it frequently pulls me out of the drama and throws me headlong down a helter-skelter of aural assault into a pit of auditory excrement. Never has the score seemed so intrusive, with Gold's pompous refrains attempting to signpost whatever emotion the viewer should be feeling in the least subtle ways imaginable. It actively detracts from many scenes: the scarecrows, which should have been very creepy, are robbed of menace by the score, and some of the pathos during Smith's scenes in the second episode are rendered vaguely nauseating by the accompanying warbling. The commentary tracks on the DVD releases of series one and two, reveal that the current production team think Gold to do no wrong, so we're clearly stuck with him, but I long for a day when he gets another job, preferably on a program I don't watch, possibly in partnership with Keff McCulloch.

Fortunately, 'Human Nature'/'The Family of Blood' is so well written and (in most cases) performed that it can survive such audio assault, and still stands, for me, as the best story since Doctor Who returned to our screens. I assume that adapting an existing novel is something of a one off, although given how well it works here, it wouldn't surprise me if the trick was repeated. And personally, I'd love to see them try realising the Dyson Sphere of 'The Also People' on the available budget?

Every now and then, an episode leaves such an impression on me that I feel duty bound to sing its praises as loudly as possible from the rooftops. The first such story was Father's Day from series 1, and Paul Cornell's latest offering has my vocal chords at full stretch once more.

If there has ever been 90 minutes of television which has so vividly portrayed such a wide spectrum of emotion - horror, poignancy, drama, romance - then I'd be very much surprised. Once again the makers of the series have shown that there is so much more to this show than monsters and comedy, and once again the detractors of the show, many of whom bizarrely seem to spend an awful lot of their time on online Who forums and writing reviews for this website, are shown to be silly and foolish. There is simply no argument that after nearly 3 seasons, the show is still pushing boundaries and daring to approach subject matter that would never have suited, or been braved by, the classic series, let alone anything else on TV.

The First World War is of course such a special and heartrending time in the history of the world and this country in particular, and the period lends itself very easilly to drama. Even a show which on the surface was very fluffy and juvenile like Blackadder Goes Forth, spoke volumes in its final seconds, as the show's main characters went over the top to almost certain death, and here the horror of the impending cataclysm is captured at times very subtly, at times very graphically, but always with the beautiful finesse of a master scriptwriter. Whether the horrific scene with the massacre of the scarecrows - and that phrase simply can't capture the power of this scene - which so brutally and vividly portrayed the sheer horror that the young boys of this era would all soon be enduring - or the final moments at the war memorial, heartrending and touching without any schmaltz - this was as powerful a comment on the horrors of the Great War, and war in general, as there could be, and I'd like to think a few familial discussions followed on from this, with children's curiosity pricked.

Against this wider picture was a more intimate theme, that of the nature of both human and Time Lord. This is, of course, a theme which the RTD series has constantly looked at - an approach which has given the Doctor a depth and raison d'etre which was never present in the classic series. Much as a great film maker like Tim Burton would take an established character such as Batman and completely explore his psychology and certain loss of humanity, so RTD and writers have totally reinvisaged the Doctor by a) making him the last of his kind (...?) and b) completely exploring the mind of an eternal wanderer through time and space. While investigated reasonably frequently, this motif was able to be pushed to the forefront of the entire story by the idea of the Doctor losing his Gallifreyan self and becoming human, and it seems in retrospect that Paul Cornell's original book was completely destined to be adapted at some point by the current production team. And in so doing, the heartbreaking reality of the Doctor's eternal plight was painted as beautifully as it has ever been possible to do. While the basic idea of the story was almost paper-thin, and the technology to change the Doctor's entire biology a very handy plot device, these ideas are only there to set up a situation, and the beauty of the script is in the reaction of the main protagonists to this situation. With this in mind I would say that Paul Cornell has written a pretty much flawless script which probably even outshines The Empty Child - a scenario I would hardly think possible as that story was til now the absolute pinnacle of the sereis in my mind.

The BAFTA word was mentioned in the Radio Times coverage of this episode, and while it can be easy to get carried away with these things, it's hard not to feel that there is much justification here, from the beautifully flowing script to the fantastic production. Charles Palmer really has impressed me with his efforts this season, and here while the more eye-catching scenes such as the aforementioned slo-mo scarecrow massacre will probably draw most attention, the fabulous performances of the actors and gorgeous use of locations show that he is a director at the top of his game. With only a couple of exceptions, the RTD series has constantly found directors who are not only inventive and hugely capable, but who so obviously understand the whole feel of the show. James Strong, Joe Ahearne and James Hawes have been the frontrunners but Charles Palmer, with this story, can be added to the list.

The scarecrows - well, as with the Reapers in Father's Day, they are almost an irrelevent addition to the story, yet they are given some fantastic moments - the snatching of the girl with the balloon being the most nightmare-inducing i would say. As such, despite the fact they could easily not have featured, they add a horror to the story which I'm sure will make it a story that all children who watched it will remember vivdly into adulthood. Again, monster design and realisation has been of the highest order, in this series 3 perhaps more than ever.

The acting of all and sundry was of the highest order - Freema Agyeman has had tough shoes to fill, and in general I do feel there is a slightly less emotional attachment to martha's character - this is no criticism of Freema, but Rose and family were so solidly characterised over the last 2 seasons that inevitably that whole backstory is missed. However, as many fans were quick to point out, Rose's character did become irksome at times last series, although her eventual exit was one of the most touching and heartwrenching moments of British TV history. Martha has been instantly likeable, and here, as in 42, her character has started to flesh out nicely, and it perhaps adds a nice variety that her family have taken much more of a back seat this season than the Tyler clan did. Freema herself continues to impress, and I'm quite prepared to expect that she'll become the second-best companion of all-time (behind Billie's Rose of course!) Added to this was a beautiful performance from Jessica Hynes, who I have long admired but did I ever expect her to deliver such a powerful and well-judged performance as this? Her final scene with the Doctor, and scathing banishment of him, was a magical moment of TV drama.

And finally.....now, who's my favourite Doctor? No question. Tom Baker was MY Doctor, through my teenage years, he became the Doctor, a magical iconic figure, instantly recognisable, totally loved.....and yet....nostalgia is a funny old thing and hard to shake off, but with this performance, David Tennant has knocked the socks off everything that's come before. This is, quite simply, the Greatest Performance ever from a Doctor (though you could argue of course that the most powerful moments were not played as the Doctor, but as John Smith). Tennant is simply mind-boggling, especially in his final angst as he knows he must choose between sacrifice and destroying the Family. The scene where his never-to-be-lived future is played out left me with more than a tear in my eye, and his verstaility was so in evidence when changing in a second from Smith to the Doctor - it really wasn't just a matter of a different accent. David Tennant truly has now delivered the ultimate performance in the show's title role, and if he isn't at least nominated for the aforementioned BAFTA, it is purely and simply snobbery against the show. Nuff said.

So, the best Dr Who episodes ever? Hard to say when there is such a long and rich history and diversity to choose from, but very possibly, and in many ways undoubtedly. The intensity which I've felt has been slightly lacking this series - though hugely entertaining and wonderful in so many ways - has materialised with a vengeance here. Well done to absolutely everybody involved, and with all the recent press speculation, let's hope that all those involved continue to have a long and productive future in this, the absolute jewel in British TV's crown.

We were promised a roller coaster ride for this season of Doctor Who and ten episodes into it, it truly has been a season of stark quality contrast rather than a string of wonderful memorable episodes that go beyond their pure entertainment value .At one end of the fence you have an episode such as DALEKS IN MANHATTAN/EVOLUTION OF THE DALEKS which you would have assumed would be one of the high points on the roller coaster and it turned out to be a poorly written, Frankenstein of poorly connected thoughts and ideas. BLINK on the other hand, this seasons applauded "Lite" Doctor Who episode had the undesirable feat of needing to rise above last years "LOVE AND MONSTERS", but like the 17 DVD's in Sally Sparrows collection, BLINK had one unique common link with two other modern DOCTOR WHO classics such as THE EMPTY CHILD and GIRL IN THE FIREPLACE that set it in the running break down barriers and experiment with new ideas. Of course the common thread between all these wonderfully written adventures is Steven Moffat who with BLINK cements himself into the DR WHO list of great scriptwriters.

In looking at BLINK, you really have to look at Steven Moffat, the writer. Over the past few short years, his stories have been the absolute most imaginative and groundbreaking episodes to grace the new series. With BLINK, Steven Moffat has given us another DOCTOR WHO episode that you would not be afraid to show to a non fan with hopes of helping him see through the sometimes immaturity of the series. DR WHO is after, still, considered a children's show. Mr. Moffat is not afraid to write for a more mature audience and using clever ideas and an almost mystical understanding of the essence of the show to propel his stories beyond the usual entertainment vehicle. Several Days after viewing BLINK you are still thinking about it, because it challenges your mind, makes you think and reminds you of a time, when the series had a corral of writers like Moffat who used alchemy and imagination to turn the series into one of the lowest budgeted best written episodic television series made for children but watched by adults.

This is not intended to dismiss everything we have seen this season as uninvolved bubblegum. The new series strives to entertain in a big way while reaching for higher demographics and ratings points, while sometimes sacrificing imagination and experimentation for retreads of past successes. While Uncle Russell has dipped into the DRWHO canon more this year with a surprise return from the "Macra" and more and more references to the Doctor's time lord heritage, this season has also seen some unbelievable repetition and overuse of successful elements from the first two years of the show- almost duplicating scenes, dialogue and even episodes and forsaking new ideas and concepts. This is confusing and difficult to understand because the series requires constant new ideas and change, otherwise we will see a premature end to this new set of adventures. BLINK most certainly realizes this, and presents to us a most unusual narrative and plot dealing with ageless alien hooligans who steal the remainder of one's days, by transporting them to the past where they must live out their lives, to death. The idea of the Weeping Angels is pure brilliance,"creatures of the abstract, living off potential energy" as the Doctor describes them, moving fast when you looking away and turning to stone when caught in your eyesight. Mr. Moffat has drawn on the "Medusas" of mythology and reversed it to eerie and startling effect to bring his "lonely assassins " to life. The episode boasts the absolute most scariest scenes ever seen on the series, and yet, while the main characters of the Doctor and Martha have limited screen time, the TARDIS is almost a character and major element that stands at the episodes center and ultimately causes the weeping angels to meet their stone cold fate at Eternity's door.

BLINK also explores to idea of the Doctor becoming separated from his time ship and is stranded in 1969 with Martha, who claims she is working in a shop to help make ends meet. This opens doors of much speculation of the Doctor and Martha blending in with the mod culture of the 60's. If only The Doctor could have steered the Beatles away from a breakup or bring the Vietnam War to a speedier close during his layover. BLINK continues to open your eyes around every corner and line of its script. Its characters of Sally Sparrow and Kathy Nightingale and her useless DVD loving brother, Larry are instantly endearing and real, a credit to the actors and first time Doctor Who director Hettie Macdonld who paces the episode into a dizzy, frenetic blur that keeps us on our toes til its conclusion.

Like the 17DVD's in Sally's collection that co-star the Doctor..(You only own 17 DVD's??? asks Larry, in disbelief) BLINK, is literally loaded with Easter Eggs of its own as well, and keeps you guessing and your mouth hanging open at every turn of scenery and dialogue. The episode has hardly even begun and we have Kathy Nightingale falling back through time to the 1920's and lives out her entire life in a blink of an eye literally before the episode even warms up. Moffat delivers excellence in every word and line of his script. "Sad is Happy to people who are very deep" says Sally in professing her love of old things like the unloved and neglected turn of the century mansion that time is turning to dust while the weeping angels wait to turn time against all who enter. Moffat also uses time, in such poignant reference when we see, the libidinous Detective Inspector Shipton suddenly on his death bed after waiting his entire life to meet Sally again and give her a message from the Doctor in 1969, when it's a mere minutes in Sally's life. "Look at my hands, they're old man's hands". He says?"How did that happen?" He tells Sally he has til the rain stops, and she waits with him, until he passes on and the sun is shining again and the hospital bed, empty again. This is certainly DOCTOR WHO at its very best. Moffat also does a great job tying up the loose ends of the story and in the end it is Sally who first meets the Doctor and gives him the transcript and list of DVD's in her collection, before he has ever even stumbled upon the weeping angels, and becomes a prisoner of time himself. The Doctor appearing as an Easter Egg on unconnected DVD's is so fantastical of an idea -- It's a shame the members of L.I.N.D.A. could not be around to help Kathy's brother analyze the mystery! Moffat continues the trend that shows up the idea of the Doctor affecting our modern culture in unique ways, becoming a sensation of Internet sites and bloggers and becoming an anti-hero again, who leaves death and destruction in his wake. And the Doctor's wake, and his footprint is getting so large that people are beginning to notice. I am certain this will lead up to this season's finale. Theres "Timey Wimey stuff going on everywhere.

The episode closes with a final scene that leaves us with a sense of foreboding fear and paranoia and would have had Mary Whitehouse throwing rocks through the windows of the old BBC Television Centre in London back in the good old days when Autons dressed as policemen and Deadly Assassins had her running to save every child in England from this violent scary show called DOCTOR WHO. The penultimate scenes in the basement with Larry and Sally trying to gain entry in the TARDIS while the Angels are quickly encroaching in the shadows are simply some of the best ever seen in the series. When the TARDIS dematerializes leaving them behind to certain death, it is the Doctor who has the final laugh and the Lonely Assassins have turned to stone in each others eyeful glances. Did I just heard Jeff Lynne and the Electric Light Orchestra?

BLINK puts everybody behind the sofa once again.

Rather unbelieveabely, three days after the shows transmission on the BBC, you could buy your own "The Angels have the phone Box" T-shirts on the Internet. I'm not kidding. I could not believe my eyes! I couldn't even blink!

Steven Moffat is scheduled to write a two-part episode next season, and it is in the wisdom of the show's producers to reward his imagination with subscription to his standard of excellence. Thank You Mr. Moffat, for making DRWHO as good as its ever been!

Before pressing on with my thoughts on this week's offering, I'd like to just backtrack briefly to Family of Blood and, for those few out there who could really give a fig, slightly readjust my verdict: I think I was maybe a touch overly critical of said episode on the hindsight of a second viewing, but this was partly due to the almost overwhelming promise of Human Nature. That certainly was a very hard act to follow, and in many ways Family of Blood didn't do that badly - excepting my numerous criticisms of it last week, which I still stand by. I now think that on the strength of just one scene alone, the beautifully choreographed scenes of the scarecrows being mown down by lachrymose schoolboys (right up there, and even beyond, the opening scenes of Genesis of the Daleks for instance), which is also a kind of rejoinder to The Lazarus Experiment's allusions to Eliot's 'The Hollow Men' ('Not with a bang but a whimper - Eliot' - The Doctor; bear in mind also the poet's words: We are the hollow men/We are the stuffed men/Leaning together/Headpiece filled with straw...'), I would upgrade my rather churlish rating of 6.8 to a far more deserving 8/10. Yes, quite a leap, but bearing in mind Family of Blood holds up well to a second viewing - in spite of a few little irritating/pretentious aspects - and also begs a third or fourth, along with Human Nature, means it is truly worthy of the better stories of the old cannon. It will be, I'm sure, the hit of this season critically, and of the entire new series so far.

Anyway, back into present time, and Blink (or you'll miss it). To be honest, not having the Doctor and Martha in an episode isn't such a terrible thing, especially when one considers that this in turn means a) far less doe-eyed drooling from companion and b) far less pratting around from Timelord. Unfortunately the Doctor does interrupt from time to time, and often to the detriment of the chilling atmos of this episode: ie, when he burbles on about 'timey wimey' and so on in an attempt obviously to explain time travel to the Telly Tubby generation. I hate to say it but at moments such as these, I can't help seeing Frank Spencer in place of the Doctor, and sometimes think a nice little beret might suit David Tenant with the odd little 'Ooooo, Martha' thrown in for good measure. The trouble is, whilst Tennant is undoubtedly a good actor (as opposed to a brilliant one such as Patrick Troughton or Tom Baker), he still lacks the necessary gravitas to pull off 'eccentricity' well enough to convince. I find Tenant strains in this regard and often trips over himself in his enthusiasm to please an undefined audience; the problem is, his enthusiasm jars in the same way that Colin Baker's did back in the Eighties. Subtlety, Mr Tennant, subtlety! That's the key here. His eccentricity just doesn't come across as naturally and unforced as say Troughton's, Baker's or McCoy's. But I think this is ultimately down to the scripting for the Tenth Doctor, which has been highly erratic since his inception. On the whole, this series has tended to highlight Tenant's stronger points over his weaker ones moreso than the reverse of the previous season, however, there have been unwelcome lapses, and the 'timey wimey' speech really is rather annoying. Martha is better in small doses, as served here, with an actually quite funny shot of her accusing the Doctor of sponging off her while they're stranded in 1969: 'now I'm having to support him'. One in the eye for the dole-scapegoating generation then: even the Doctor has to draw benefits from time to time; why should he go for a job as a shelf-stacker when he's a fully qualified time traveller? Better to sit it out and cash in on his National Insurance contributions.

Blink itself? Basically - give or take token lapses into mundanity and vapid Noughties' trendy elements - a very good and solid episode, and yet another nice surprise in what is rapidly developing into the best season of new Who so far. The idea of an alien species who have evolved the perfect defence mechanism of only functioning/moving when not being observed ('quantum locked' - The Doc), is fascinating and inspired, and deeply disturbing. The 'lonely assassins' then are basically a race of interplanetary stone Gorgons who not only turn other beings metaphorically to stone with sheer fright, but also literally each other; hence they're being disguised as weeping angels, covering their own eyes so as not to catch one another's gazes. Of course this could be seen as a slightly silly idea in a way, especially considering their evident teamwork ethic, but nevertheless, it doses the episode with a genuinely chilling concept. The designs of the angels are exceptional, and the shot of them statically stood around the TARDIS is iconic. The flashes of their faces emerging and freezing in ghastly expressions as the two humans try to unlock the TARDIS, is brilliantly done, and the most frightening series of images in new Who since the screaming woman in The Unquiet Dead (well, apart from the drooling lycanthrope in Tooth and Claw, and the tattooed, red-eyed Toby in Impossible Planet). The trick of the Doctor in baiting the angels around the TARDIS, only to dematerialise it so they turn each other to stone by facing one another, is ingenious, and one of the most convincing and satisfying conclusions of a new Who episode (and nicely reminiscent of the Mara's death by its own reflections in the classic Kinda - my favourite ever story by the way). Inspired.

The premise of Blink in general is excellent and one of the most disturbing in the series' entire history. Homage is paid here to The Blair Witch Project (among other films, such as Hammer's The Gorgon), though only very subtly; the idea of not blinking in order to somehow stay in control of the situation (re the girl in TBWP being too frightened to shut her eyes in the tent) is a psychologically powerful play on the instinct to stay wide-eyed and awake when afraid. One could also say there's a shade of Ring here too, but in this case we have nothing more frightening than a bespectacled Jarvis Cocker oggling out from the TV screen (well, actually...)

The acting of the main girl is strong, and this young actress carries her character well and is fairly likeable - albeit typically self-assured for a Noughties' girl - and her comment about her friend's sister passing on that she loved him being 'quite nice' got me smiling. As for the 'friend', well, being a poor man's Rhys Ifans from Notting Hill isn't the best of accolades, but he does the job ok.

The time victims' stories were a nice detail, though one wonders why the Doctor couldn't have taken them back to their futures as it were. Still, the letter and old photos from the girl friend near the beginning of the episode, only just after she vanishes into 1920, is a lovely touch, and rather reminiscent of the fourth adventure in Sapphire and Steel. In this sense then, Blink plays a similar role to Fear Her of last year, in its deft juxtaposition of modern day settings with eerie subversions of trans-generational motifs (ie, children's drawings and moving statues), betraying a thread of inspiration from the brilliantly imaginative science fantasies of the 70s, in particular The Tomorrow People (for Fear Her see The Blue and the Green) and S&S. These are very welcome ingredients to new Who and I hope there are more to come. The ultimate chills after all are those that play on our childhood fears.

Blink is a striking episode, absorbing, nicely written, well directed, subtle, frightening and genuinely unique. It is also an episode that can be watched in isolation from the rest of the series, which is no bad thing, and taken on its own merits. It is, further, a far superior tale to its same-placed and similarly Doctor-less cousin of last season, the deplorably self-indulgent Love and Monsters. Blink is much more the kind of oddity we should get for the season's token 'Doctor-on-Call' episode.

Imaginative and memorable. A minor classic.