The Box of Delights: Leave Us Not Little, Nor Yet Dark

"Splendiferous!"

So that’s it. A splendid ending to a bonkers but deeply festive and entertaining adventure. Let’s just gloss over the disappointing fact that it was all a dream, shall we?

This episode is all action, with nary a chance to breathe- but there’s still time for lots of magic. The whole sequence with Abner and his secret semi-TARDIS, accesses through a secret door by drawing a glowing and inverted Star of David (probable symbolism there, although I’m buggered if I know)  is awesome, with the sarky statue head thing that Abner leaves upside down when in a sulk, and the cool animated dragon that Abner uses to prevent the secret agents of the Church of England fouling his dastardly plans. Yes, Abner is pretty much a cartoon villain at this point, but I for one have no problems with that.

However, his underlings have betrayed him, nicked the loot and freed the Bishop and his crew. Abner may not be in as good a position as he thought- as we confirm when (yay!) we finally meet Cole again. Patrick Troughton is on top form here as our Punch and Judy Gandalf saves the day in spite of rising water by drawing a key with which to escape (couldn’t he have done that earlier?) and co juri g up a boat from his hat as all are rescued, including Peter and the long-sidelined Caroline Louisa. It’s as though the world of the children (with which Cole is most certainly aligned) manages to save Christmas for the grown ups. We end, with the help of magic, with the Christmas service in the cathedral saved, and a few minutes where The Box of Delights briefly turns into Songs of Praise. What’s particularly nice, though, is that this is done with the help of the decidedly pagan figure of Herne the Hunter, who is basically Woden- true religious harmony. And we see that old woman again. Who is she meant to be? It’s not entirely clear.

And then... Kay spins around, recreating the final moments of another Patrick Troughton masterpiece... and it was all a dream. That doesn’t change the fact, though, that this is a truly wonderful and special bit of telly.

Maybe I should make this a 35 year thing? See you in 2054. I’m sure my pension will stretch to it, if England isn’t a desert by then.