Episode One
“Normal is for the comatose!”
If you think Jodie Whittaker is the first female Doctor Who then you are quite, quite wrong. Let’s look at the evidence: RTD writes; 25 minute episodes; Marcie acts and speaks exactly like the Doctor; the directorial style and incidental music is exactly like Cartmel-era Who which is, after all, only a couple of years ago. The baddie even begins by saying “Nothing in the world can stop me now!”. I rest my case.
This is, in fact, a brilliant bit of telly that only the very 1991 fashions can’t spoil. The script is superb; Victoria Lambert is superb, Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor as a thirteen year old girl. The paddle is a bit of genius. It’s genuinely bizarre that she doesn’t seem to have acted in anything else. Then there’s a young Kate Wibslet (the less said about Ben Chandler the better) and such British telly stalwarts as Brigit Forsyth and the great Cyril Shaps.
Like Cartmel era Doctor Who, the programme hides its lack of budget with lots of mood, atmosphere, and having this and intrigue be a substitute for expensive spectacle, and does it well. It’s also full of strong characters, an intriguing mystery, and an intriguing men-in-black villain in the splendid Mr Eldritch. But the clothes, oh, the clothes...
Episode Two
“If I can teach you two anything it’s this; shut up and do as I say. Out!”
The plot thickens and so does the characterisation; I love Marcie’s fun little relationship with the exasperated and harassed Miss Maitland, and how only she realises that anything weird happened. We also begin to see how the Professor is at the heart of all this, leading to a splendid cliffhanger. And, this being the early ‘90s, we have the obligatory cyberspace bit, with even a kind of proto-internet. In 1991.
It’s weird to think I was about the same age as the kids in this at the time, but in some ways it doesn’t feel so very long ago. It’s intetesting to be reminded of a time where not all schools gave lip service to any of this silly uniform nonsense, for example, whatever the resulting fashion disasters. Thing is, though, what does Mr Eldritch want? So far he just walks around looking cool while talking like a super villain in a vague sort of way, more of a trope than a character as such. Not that I have any problem with this.
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