The Sarah Jane Adventures: Farewell, Sarah Jane

 "The Jackals of the Backwards Clock..."

I don't have time to blog a full episode of anything tonight (real life stuff) but, as RTD will be returning to Doctor Who and I have a spare thirteen and a bit minutes to watch at least something, this seems an appropriate thing to blog.

It's one of those unique little short video productions that emerged out of the early days of lockdown last year, made with rigorous social distancing. Hence the format is a narrated script with actors doing the odd solo scene, a kind of Big Finish "Companion Chronicle" with a camera pointed at it. And yet, as with all drama, this essentially stands and falls by the writing and performances.

And, yeah, in this case it most certainly stands. RTD's script is magical, poetical, tear-jerking, full of heart and full of life. Sarah Jane gets the perfect funeral in an affectionate and beautiful tribute to the late Lis Sladen. There are lots of little chances to be nosey into various characters' lives- Luke, Clyde and Rani are all successful young adults. Luke has a husband. Tegan and Nyssa are seemingly a couple. But it's not really about all that- it's about a character, and an actress, whom we in fandom miss very much. And tributes don't get much better than this.

Doctor Who: Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror

“I work for the future. And the future is mine."

Well, that was... perfectly decent. Here we have a celebrity historical which hews very close indeed to the now time-honoured blueprint first seen with The Unquiet Dead as the Doctor visits the Gilded Age New York of 1900. We have a celebrity genius in the vein of a Dickens, Shakespeare or Van Gogh in Nikola Tesla- and the fact he's an inventor rather than a genius of the artistic kind makes little difference to how familiar this feels.

And there's nothing wrong with that, of course: Mark Gatiss' original template is one that works, and there's space in each season for an episode or two that's "trad". It's just a shame that we have, in Nina Metivier, a new writer, and certainly a competent one, but we haven't really heard her voice.

It's an entertaining bit of fun nonetheless. Goran Visnjic is splendid as Tesla while Robert Glenister (thirty-six years after playing the young Salateen in The Caves of Androzani) gives quite a nuanced and interesting, although also larger than life, performance as the genius but morally dodgy Thomas Edison.

The plot is clever and entertaining as the parasitic Skithra, a race of hive mind giant scorpions who travel across the galaxy cannibalising other races' tech, want to kidnap Tesla to be their ship's chief engineer, which is splendidly bonkers. Even better is the fact that Rani herself- Anji Mohindra- is clearly having enormous fun behind all that make-up as the Skithra queen. Interestingly, the tech stolen includes stuff from "Venusians" and a Silurian gun- so presumably a group of Silurians awoke before 1900? But then, I suppose there's also the question of where Madame Vastra came from.

One might perhaps point to the lack of obvious racism shown towards Yaz and Ryan but this, I think, would be churlish: the programme can't just not hire regulars of certain ethnic backgrounds, nor can it restrict itself from setting episodes in huge swathes of history. There have been plenty of instances where the programme has referred to the racist attitudes of the past- not least in Rosa last season. I think that earns it the right to downplay the whole thing sometimes too. We still get good character moments- I like how Graham recognises Edison as a certain type of greedy boss.

So we have a very "trad" episode for modern Doctor Who- a textbook "celebrity historical". And, yet again, an episode that's, well, quite good. No more, no less.

The Dead Room

"When were you born?”

“1990.”

“Christ!”

This is an admittedly cheap but well cast attempt in BBC Four where Mark Gatiss (naturally!) writes and directs a deliberately modern slant on M.R. James style ghost stories for Christmas. It’s a very good piece of drama with excellent dialogue, a superbly characterised central character, and yet... it isn’t eerie or scary. And it’s not immediately obvious why.

Simon Callow is, inevitably, spellbinding in the central role of Aubrey Judd, veteran radio teller of horror stories, while Anjli Mohindra alsonimpresses as his obscenely young producer in what is essentially a two hander on two similar sets and could easily have been a stage play. This isn’t the 1970s M.R. James adaptation so no sumptuous location filming please; we’re BBC Four.

The script is in many ways superb and literally gothic in that a sun from Aubrey’s past literally comes back to haunt him. Yet, in the wake of A Very English Scandal, there are many poignant reminders of the real dangers of being gay in the 1970s, something which works well. I also admire the light breakage of the fourth wall as Aubrey eloquently deconstructs the modern ghost story; it can’t be too modern, requires a certain distance, more or less within living memory, and a certain old-fashioned reticence in holding back the nature of the horror. You can, he claims, base a horror tale on a horror from as recently as the ‘70s!

And yet, good though this is as a little piece of drama, it doesn’t quite work. I’m not sure the script is to blame, or indeed Gatiss’ direction; I suspect it’s the case that limited resources are the culprit here, and the play just isn’t scary. And that’s a shame.

Cucumber: Episode 8

"Right, I'm off for a wank."

And so it ends, with a slow-paced, philosophical and reflective episode to tie things up. And I'll begin with the ending; Henry and Freddie meet for a chat six years later, and Henry (no longer a virgin, although penetration will never be his favourite sexual pastime) finally lets slip the central fact about his character; he still needs to come to terms with being gay. Freddie's generation may be utterly relaxed about sexual orientation, but Henry's generation were the pioneers in the long march from AIDS and Section 28 towards Equal Marriage a quarter century later. He's young enough to have tasted of the fruits of equality but old enough to remember when gay people had no rights at all. Unlike Freddie, Henry sees these rights as precarious, which probably has a lot to do with why he wouldn't marry Lance. And he could be right. Time will tell. Nevertheless, all of Genry's behaviours over the series is interesting to consider in this light, which is why the television grammar of a cliffhanger ending clicks in as soon as Henry says  "Being gay."

Before this, though, we have a whole episode in which Henry's little commune slowly dissolves, hippy fantasies slowly punctured by real life, and his mid-life crisis ends as, with Cliff's assistance and in the episode's most amusing scene, he not only gets his job back but gets a promotion. It's all brilliantly structured, both as an episode and, we can now finally say, as a whole series.

We begin, again, with our usual opening motif of Henry in the supermarket, a sign of renewed normality at first. Yet this time he stalks a fellow shopper whom he fancies, following him all the way to... his wife. This sort of thing is, of course, a universal part of being gay.

The most dramatic part of a quiet episode, and very much harking back to last week, is where Veronica, instinctively disgusted with his Bohemian lifestyle, accuses Henry of being responsible for Lance's death and re-opens a very tender wound. Yes, this is cruel of her, but it stings all the more because she's such a convincing Everywoman. Both Vincent Franklin and Anjli Mohindra are extraordinary here. This is an important prelude to the silent and tense scenes as Henry waits for the verdict on Daniel, which is guilty in spite of everyone's fears.

We end with a nice coda, with everything and everyone being brought up to date in a quiet chat between Henry and Freddie. It's a low key end, but appropriately so. RTD is s master of how to balance high drama with calm. Indeed, on the evidence of these eight episodes, he has a good claim to be the best dramatist currently working in British TV. Cucumber is right up there with the likes of Edge of Darkness and The Boys from the Black Stuff.

Cucumber: Episode 7

"I thought we'd seen the last of this- funerals at too young an age."

After last episode's extraordinary demonstration of Russell T Davies' genius, we get another example of what a master of structure and storytelling he is. It feels as though Cucumber ascended to another level last week and is staying there. Cucumber is not only bloody good telly, it's I, Clavdivs good. Edge of Darkness good. Absolutely superlative stuff.

No supermarket framing sequence this week,it's straight to Lance's funeral. Once again a group of gay men of a certain age are mourning one of their own, as in days of old, but this time there's real anger, especially as Daniel Coltrane is using that tired old "gay panic" defence; Cliff appears to be quite sincere as he offers to kill him. But this is all wearily familiar territory for these Middle Ages men, who have grown up with the spectre of both premature death and homophobic violence. The contrast between this generation and the casually on bisexual generation of Freddie and co is both a big theme of the series and hugely perturbing for Henry. Vincent Franklin is incredible here.

This being RTD, the heavy stuff is leavened by a bit of fun with cock hairs. But this is followed by a harrowing scene of Henry crying, in the gents, too proud and repressed to do it anywhere else. This says an awful lot about him as a character. Earlier in the series he seemed an abrasive and brave choice for a main protagonist, but by now he just seems nuanced, fascinating, not a tragic hero in a plot structural sense but certainly of that lineage. Again, RTD and Vincent Franklin deserve all the plaudits in the world.

Freddie gets further development here, coming to resent, and feel trapped by, Henry's dependence on him, in large part because he was the one who happened to be there during that phone call. He's shallow, perhaps, but shallow people, at least when written by RTD, can be interesting and have hinterland.

Perhaps the most upsetting scene, though, takes place afterwards between Henry and Marie, and their huge falling-out on what happens with the house; Henry was not married to Lance, and only has half the rights to it. Worse, she now has possession of all the savings from the joint account that Lance took. There's a subtle homophobia to all her actions and attitudes here. And their dinner descends into deep acrimony with Henry screaming insistently that Lance's death was not his fault. It wasn't, of course- it was Daniel Coltrane's alone- but the cruel unspoken accusation that Henry was somehow responsible hangs horribly over everything.

The scene between Henry, Freddy's and Dean in the car is extraordinary; such a long scene in such a confined space would seem to be more theatrical than televisual, but it works, and is a necessary way of getting Henry to discuss his hang-ups over sex, and how Lance was so good that he put up with no penetration for nine years. The narrative needed this catharsis and, as akways, RTD leavens the harrowing stuff with humour as the three men bond as Freddy discusses the respective sexual plumbing systems of women and men.

We end, as with much of this episode, in a scene of legal brutality; Henry, Freddy et Al are all evicted from their flat, which was only ever an outrageous legal con to steal their stuff. But Henry, his mid-life crisis at its peak, invites all of the newly homeless twentysomethings to his house, much to Marie's outrage. This is the best telly, with the best written parts, that I've seen in years.

Cucumber: Episode 6

"You've taken a wrong turn, but you can turn back."

I hate to simply echo what's being said all over the Internet, but this is one of the finest pieces of television in recent years. It's extraordinary.

We're shown from the framing device at the start that this episode will be different; this time it is Lance, not Henry, in the supermarket. And Russell T Davies gives the game away from the start with a caption: "Lance Edward Armstrong, 1966-2015".

Davies, in a recent interview with the Radio Times, has likened the structure of this episode to Lance's life flashing before his eyes in those last few seconds after the golf club connects. More than half the episode takes place before the start of the series, including Lance's getting together with Henry and the early part of their relationship, from his perspective. But the heart of these early scenes are in Lance's early scenes, his discovery of his sexuality, the difficult coming out and the slow acceptance, Christmas by Christmas, of his father. There is tragedy, too, with the childhood loss of Lance's mother and the loss of a partner to AIDS. All of this rounds Kance as a character and, of course, gets us to emphasise with him so that his death will hurt more. You're a right bastard of a genius, RTD. This episode feels like a punch in the face to a Eurythmics soundtrack.

It's a huge relief that Henry gets to see Lance before he dies, and to finally tell him that he loves him. Lance doesn't take the proffered olive branch, though, and coldly rebuffs him. Instead he goes off on one final, terrible night out.

Daniel gives out warning signs at every moment, as he always has. His behaviour in Canal Street is extremely disturbing yet, as Lance explains to the strange, unreal ghost of Hazel from Queer as Folk, he's handsome enough to be worth it.

These scenes with Hazel, written as a kind of fairy godmother, are the emotional heart of the episode. The fact that she is a ghost adds a note of unreality; RTD has  postulated that, if the whole episode is Lance's life flashing before his eyes, this could be a bit his subconscious has changed. But it's nicely ambiguous, and a nice choice. And dramatically, of course, it's the point of no return.

The final, fateful scenes are in real time, and are masterfully scripted and acted, with Daniel finally acting fully on his suppressed desires, but then lashing out in a fury of denial and gay panic, snuffing out this sweet man whom we have come to know and love. It is sudden, devastating and crafted to hit hard.

And then we have a masterful visual sequence from director Alice Troughton, and tears, and no more Lance. And this is going to leave a huge hole in the world.

Cucumber: Episode 5

"We built cages to keep ourselves civilised."

This is the first thing I've blogged with a little person sitting there sleeping in a bouncer next to us as she watched it. So, technically, the first programme my baby daughter watched was Cucumber. Appropriate or what? Anyway, this is still the best thing on telly right now.

We are alerted to the fact that things are entering a new phase by the difference in the framing device at the start: Henry's monologue takes place not in the civilised, safe, artificial environment of the supermarket, but in the wild and dangerous environment of the primeval forest. 

Henry's life has lost its moorings since that fateful night out; he has lost his relationship, his job, his money and his place in society, and has found himself making some questionable decisions as a result. This is the episode where the consequences of those decisions come home to roost.

Cleo is an extraordinary creation of a character, nuanced and real in a way that fictional characters rarely are. Her reaction to what Henry has been doing on YouTube is perfection in terms both in terms of script and performance. And this is a devastating revelation of the damage done by casually misogynist pornography, done just for fun, on the sexuality of adolescent girls. It's an extraordinary scene.

Elsewhere, Cliff is great as usual, and Henry's relationship with new boyfriend Leigh is quickly unravelling. Not only is Leigh alarmingly right wing, he also wants (gasp!) sex. Henry, being Henry, doesn't so much dump him but takes the easy way out by standing him up, choosing instead to get pissed with Freddie. He still has absolutely no chance with the young Adonis, of course, but the two of them have struck up a moving little friendship of sorts. But Freddie's parents have a few home truths for him, home truth for which he has no real answer. Structurally, this is clearly the episode where we are being invited to examine Henry's recent actions in the light of something big is about to happen. And I'm not just saying that because I've already seen the masterpiece that is Episide Six.

Lance is continuing to pursue the disturbingly laddish Daniel, whose denial about his sexuality is suffused with menace and the simmering threat of violence. Lance's chat in the office with Veronica, who thinks Daniel is weird, is a great big sign that things are going to go very badly wrong.

We end with a conversation between Hebry and Lance, a conversation which Henry badly mishandled. They part on bad terms, and things look ominous...

Cucumber: Episode 2

"Uncle Lance says you never take it up the bum!"

This episode is perhaps a little shorter on the flashes of brilliance than the last one, but it is again a joy to experience Russell T Davies' writing again. The theme of the week is clear, and stated at the start with the "Henry test" of looking at your partner's last twenty texts- what are the boundaries of faithfulness? At what point does lust for another person, or flirting, make you unfaithful to your partner? Are Henry and Lance still together? This is awkwardly ambiguous. Yet for the younger crowd of Dean and Freddie such ambiguity is happily accepted.

There is a gap between Henry's young hosts in terms of both age and social class- but perhaps we should not separate the two, in our age of austerity which is aimed at the young. It isHenry's  generation which has the property and the good jobs. Perhaps this explains Freddue's more-or-less open contempt.

Oh, and I was wrong about Danny, Lance's friend with the casual homophobia; he's clearly gay and repressed, and Lance clearly likes him.

This episode is just as funny as the last one, and most of the best humour revolves around Henry's sister Cleo,who is fantastic and behaves like a real person. Her reactions to Henry's plight are nuanced and not as one would expect from a character in a drama.

RTD is brilliant at how he shows characterisation- the dialogue, the use of modern social media in TV drama and, of course, people not communicating properly with each other- the main theme of this series. It's all very Marshall McLuhan; the medium is the message.

Cucumber: Episode 1

"It's not my fault they went and invented it."

I'm conscious that the only Russell T Davies scripts I've ever blogged have been Doctor Who. So I should say, for the sake of balance, that I've seen (and enjoyed) Casanova and The Second Coming and, indeed, Dark Season. I haven't, however, seen Queer as Folk which, I suspects, puts me at a slight disadvantage in that I cannot discuss Cucumber in relation to it.

Meh. Anyway, this is RTD's much-heralded "More Gay Men" project, a return to a style of drama grounded in relationships and human miscommunication rather than the science fiction he's written in the recent past. And it is, of course, brilliant. I'd forgotten how much I love his style; the lightness of touch as a means to approach heavy themes, and his signature brilliant dialogue. RTD once explained to Charlie Brooker that his characters, like real people, never quite listen to what the other person is saying; dialogue should not get "ping pong". He practises what he preaches to brilliant effect here as Sunil gets a distracted Henry to let him copy that fateful essay.

But let's step back a bit. Henry is 46, comically grumpy and in a more or less sexless relationship with Lance. He represents the older generation of gay men, who have had to struggle with AIDS and a more overt homophobia, and to whom recent advances like equal marriage are somewhat bewildering. In contrast we have the much younger Dean, who has things much easier in terms of both social attitudes and easy sex.

This is the story, more or less, of how Henry's life fall apart so in the space of twenty-four hours. It looks as though he's lost his relationship and his career, in both cases through an awkward failure to communicate clearly. This basic plot plays out with plenty of wit and hilarity to distract us, as always, from the pessimism about the human condition that always lies beneath RTD's work. 

Vincent Franklin deserves praise for making the prickly and waspish Henry likeable enough to work as a protagonist yet believable for us to despair at his attitudes. Perhaps his attitude has been shaped by his life, though; he's clearly not comfortable with the idea that he can now get married, he's only half joking in his ambivalence to other gay men, and he's never gone all out and had full penetrative sex. He still has one foot in the more repressive era of his youth, days of Section 28 and homophobic tabloids.

And yet we also get funny scenes like the neighbour politely asking him not to wank  where her children can see, and the man with yellow spunk. And yet both of these turn out to be tinged with tragedy.

I'm looking forward to next week. I don't pretend to be any more plugged into gay culture than the next Guardian reading heterosexual liberal, but I'm enjoying this as a drama that is both fun and has something to say. I've missed RTD.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Man Who Never Was

Part One

“But I’m an old hand at hypnotism.”

On the day that Muammar Gaddafi has been killed, I watch the last ever episode of The Sarah Jane Adventures following the untimely death of Elizabeth Sladen who dies earlier this year, and the concept seems to be clearly inspired by Steve Jobs, who also died recently.

So, Steve Jobs is introducing the iPad… er, Joseph Serf is introducing the completely dissimilar Serfboard. Incidentally, the Serfboard is firmly established to be rubbish. Could this be Gareth Roberts making comments on the iPad, perchance…?

It’s wonderful that Elisabeth Sladen gets to shine so much in her last story; her journalistic activities are such fun here, and I loved the fact she’s been hypnotised so many times it no longer works! Her little digs about “Serf” being a hologram are fantastic, and Harrison’s obvious annoyance makes it so much more fun.

The big character theme here is, of course, that Luke’s coming home at the end of term, and he has a new sister. This is an obvious theme for the target audience: the disruptions of a new sibling, especially an adopted one, and the realisation that one is slowly leaving home. It’s a very poignant moment when Luke finds out that his old room is now Sky’s.

There’s an interesting moment between Rani and Clyde, too. It’s clear they haven’t been together for a while, and Ellie is mentioned. There are hints at a recent frostiness: “Just like the old days- you and me, having a laugh.” I expect this was supposed to have been developed during the two intervening stories which will never now be made, but the series hangs together surprisingly well as a whole with just the first two stories and this finale.

It’s such a great kids’ show concept that “Serf” should be controlled by a load of cowled cyclopean little cute aliens pulling levers! Just as with the last season of Doctor Who, I’m reminded of the Numbskulls from The Beezer.

Part Two

“It’s bobbins!”

It’s a fantastic cliffhanger- the aliens are actually nice, and tell Luke and Sky to run. The idea behind this is very dark for a kids show, though: the Skullions crash-landed in Central Asia, and Harrison bought them on the slave market. It’s human trafficking, more or less. Just as with last episode, real world issues are at the forefront. And just as with the last story, a lovely blow is stuck against our tabloid culture: a Romanian immigrant, no less, and a cleaner too, is not only portrayed as heroic but is rewarded at the end with a cool job at UNIT.

Less heavy is the idea that Harrison plans to use alien tech to sell a load of useless crap via hypnosis- a dig at advertising, perchance? Good old BBC!

The whole gang gets cool stuff to do. Rani and Clyde, posing as a married couple(!) bond as they gatecrash the press conference, while Luke and Sky have to pull the levers. The bits with cute aliens getting tortured are nasty, but there’s a lot of fun, bonkers stuff here. And Harrison certainly gets the ending he deserves.

There’s an interesting bit at the end, where Rani and Clyde get very couply and start talking about a “family thing”- ooh! Was there a bit more to this scene, or a “to be continued”…?

The final montage is wonderful, and best of all is the final caption: “And the story goes on… forever.”

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Curse of Clyde Langer

Part One

“Where were you on the day of the storm?”

This story is wonderful. We live in a tabloid culture where it’s becoming more and more fashionable to just dismiss as “scroungers” those people we don’t want to look at: asylum seekers, the homeless, and these days even the disabled. It’s so fantastic that The Sarah Jane Adventures is showing kids how wrong this is, that the homeless are just people like us. And it’s something which could happen to any of us, especially in times like these.

After an interesting flash forward to Clyde we’re quickly introduced to the gang’s new adventure; fish from the skies and a mysterious totem pole. In an apparently casual scene Clyde gives some money to a homeless people, incoherently telling Sky both that she’s a “scrounger” and that it “isn’t her fault”. His incoherence here is shared by most of us, I suspect.

The scenes where everyone turns against Clyde, while carefully blunted so as not to upset children too much, can hardly not be upsetting. Only Sky, an alien, seems unaffected by the curse. Speaking of which… how on Earth does Sarah explain where Sky has come from so she can start school? She has no past, no previous schooling, presumably she can’t read… we probably shouldn’t ask, just as we didn’t with Luke.

The most interesting scenes of Clyde being rejected are with those people we don’t see every week. Clyde’s mother accuses him of keeping secrets which, of course, he is. There’s a genuine subconscious feeling there, I think. And the terrifying and powerful scenes where Clyde’s mates turn on him is so very tinged with class resentment; Clyde is in the sixth form, and has a future. His friends left school at sixteen, and seem to have a bleak future in times like these.

The episode ends unusually. There’s no cliffhanger, just Clyde realising he’s alone and homeless, breaking down and crying. And then the homeless girl from earlier comes and takes his hand…

Part Two

“People don’t look.”

Clyde wakes up to find that he’s still living his nightmare, and has slept under a bridge. The homeless people he’d previously been able to ignore are now all around him, and he depends on his new homeless friend, Ellie, to guide him around this new and traumatic existence. The message is very clear that any of us could fall this far if we’re unlucky enough. Homeless people are people just like us.  “One day it all falls apart, then you’re here.” It’s a powerful message, and great that it’s being given to kids.

Ellie really likes Clyde, and she’s an innocent much like him. There’s a lot of darkness left unspoken in her story of how she came to live on the streets two years ago (“My Dad died. My Mum remarried…”. We see enough of her to realise that she’s nice, and vulnerable. This adds weight to what comes later.

It’s Sky who gets to be the hero, working out how to free Sarah Jane and Rani from the curse. Yes, it’s a little convenient that she should be quite this clever, but I’ll forgive this story a couple of plot shortcuts for its powerful message.

Our second plot shortcut is Clyde being able to easily defeat the mysterious baddie by just saying his name, but the ending packs a punch. It’s becoming obvious that Ellie really, really likes and trusts Clyde (well, the kiss is a bit of a hint…), and it’s shocking when he abandons her, however understandable his reasons. Of course, Clyde searches high and low for her, but she’s gone, and she can’t be traced. This is harsh, and will be upsetting for the children watching. But Phil Ford has made the right decision; to solve the problem of homelessness with an easy sci-fi ending would be a horrible misjudgement.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Sky

Part One

“If I start asking my Mum questions about how to look after a baby then she’s going to totally freak.”

I never seem to pick up much enthusiasm for starting a new series of The Sarah Jane Adventures, and this time is no exception. I’m always very much aware that this is very much a kids’ show, I’m a 34-year-old man, and I’m only reviewing this series because of my completist urge to review all of televised Doctor Who. I’m conscious that I don’t find much to say about it, which isn’t surprising: it’s for kids, and not necessarily always brimming with subtext. And yet, I usually end up enjoying it, and this time is no exception.

It’s certainly… different to see Elisabeth Sladen in new episodes so soon after her sad demise. But it’s also exhilarating to see the brand-new pre-titles sequence, and to hear Sladen’s voice delivering that wonderful monologue. It’s becoming very noticeable that the actors playing Clyde and Rani are getting older, but it’s good to see the gang again.

And this time we get a new addition, although obviously not for long; a baby whom Sarah Jane names Sky is mysteriously abandoned on her doorstep, and we get lots of fun scenes with Clyde showing how great he is with babies. Aaah. It’s also great to see some comedy with Haresh and the lovely Gita. I know I’m supposed to like the regulars more, but I think they’re my favourite characters…!

We get a lot of scenes in a nuclear power station; it’s almost as though this is a 1970s Doctor Who story. We get a few scenes with the wonderful Floella Benjamin as Professor Rivers again, including a great scene in which she plays with some lipstick and pretends she’s Sarah Jane. Plus there’s a great villain in the mysterious “Miss Myers”.

And then, as a cliffhanger we discover that Sky is suddenly much older. And a bomb.

Part Two

“And Clyde thought he had it tough with Luke!”

Er, excuse me, but surely if Sky is twelve years old then she isn’t actually a teenager? And surely there will be narrative difficulties with her being five years younger than Rani and Clyde, and therefore in a different school year? Still, it’s probably a good idea to have regular who’s closer to the age of the target audience, and also sensible of Phil Ford to give her a background which is more or less the same as Luke’s.

Still, it’s rather eyebrow-raising to have our new regular be, essentially, a suicide bomber. And I’m really, really not sure about that scene of Sarah Jane breaking into an area full of electricity pylons in a children’s programme!

Still, we get a nice ending, even if Sky surviving and being “defused” is awfully convenient. But then, in a genuine surprise, we see the shopkeeper and his parrot from Lost in Time. Are we going to find out who they are, or what they want…?

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith

Part One

“Don’t think I haven’t met amateurs before.”

Just six months after it was broadcast and this title has now acquired some unintentionally tragic associations. The plot, with Sarah Jane suffering a serious illness, is quite a different experience, watching it for the first time now, than it would have seemed at the time.

The pre-titles sequence sees our Scoobies upstages by a suspiciously convenient Sarah Jane-a-like, and once the names of the writers (Clayton Hickman and Gareth Roberts) appear on screen, I can’t help but suspect that this is going to be a semi-remake of Big Finish audio The One Doctor. I simply must get around to listening to that some time. I’ve owned it for years.

Coincidence piles upon coincidence, as this mysterious Ruby White (Mary Sue, surely? They missed a trick there.) turns out to have moved into Bannerman Road and Sarah Jane seems to start forgetting things. Oh, and Ruby White refers amusingly to the mysterious goings-on within the “Ealing Triangle”.

When Sarah Jane’s mistakes almost get Clyde and Rani killed, though, Ruby White comes to the rescue. She’s now turned suspiciously friendly. Of course, we, the viewers, know that she’s up to no good, but that’s all part of the fun, and a good thing for the target audience. Ruby is almost a perfect pantomime villain in that the viewers want to shout “Oh no she isn’t!” at the characters who suspect nothing.

Sarah Jane reminisces to Ruby, confirming that she was twenty-three during the events of The Time Warrior, and if I could be bothered I could use that to date this story. Another piece of evidence for the UNIT dating debate, this. But she forgets the Doctor- unthinkable- and a scan by Mr Smith confirms it: she’s suffering some sort of mental decline.

Sarah Jane gives up suspiciously easy, handing everything she has to Ruby on a plate. Everything feels wrong; she’s leaving immediately, seemingly with nowhere to live, and absent-mindedly forgets to say goodbye to Luke before relinquishing control of Mr Smith. In an odd way the character comes across as quite strong here: she’s decisive, and acts without self-pity. But it’s shocking to see her abandon Luke because she doesn’t want to be a “burden” to him. We know she’s not herself.

And then Ruby reveals her true colours, as an alien who keeps her stomach in the cellar. As you do…



Part Two

“Sharing your big secret… don’t think I haven’t noticed!”

Heh! Ruby wants to help aliens to do naughty things. And she wants to do so while living Sarah Jane’s life, including Clyde and Rani. They’re not quite convinced, though. Believably, Clyde is upset and blames Rani for pushing Sarah Jane away: “She’s gone, like my Dad’s gone, and it’s all your fault. Just stay away from me!” This tells us so much about Clyde.

And Rani is upset. It’s only when she talks to her mother (the lovely, lovely Gita) that she realises something is wrong. Clyde, of course, suspects this from the beginning, especially once Mr Smith starts to drop some heavy hints. He confronts Ruby, but he’s overpowered by Ruby, and taken to her orbiting prison. Like Cessair of Diplos, is seems she’s escaped from prison, with the aid of, er, a kind of Space Playstation. Unfortunately, Clyde is now trapped in a place with no oxygen other than that which he brought with him…

When all seems lost, though, Luke and K-9 arrive. He and Rani start arguing (Tommy Knight is strangely unconvincing here), but K-9 soon works out exactly what’s going on. Good dog!

Meanwhile, Clyde is delivering a final message, which is really quite affecting; this is a good episode for him. But all is not lost- Rani distracts Ruby with some girly chat, which gives K-9 the chance to teleport a bewildered Clyde back to the attic. He’s still a bit bewildered, though, and lets out a “Rani, I love you!”

They all head over to rescue Sarah Jane, only to be menaced by an unconvincing stomach with sharp teeth. Ho hum. Luke saves the day, though, and Ruby’s off back to prison, this time with no Playstation.

It’s a happy ending; even K-9 and Mr Smith are getting on. There’s a bittersweet note at the end, though: Sarah Jane saying “I think I can go on forever” now seems cruelly ironic, with this being the last episode to be broadcast during Elisabeth Sladen’s lifetime.

A good episode, if lacking enough to be particularly special. And with that, I’m up to date with The Sarah Jane Adventures! Next will be a mix of Blake’s 7 and the current series of Doctor Who…

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Lost in Time

Part One

“They’re dead clever where I come from.”

No messing about with this opening teaser: we’re straight into the story and no mistake. It’s a shop, full of bric-a-brac, including (it’s implied) the very arrow with which King Harold was shot. There’s a mysterious shopkeeper, played brilliantly by Cyril Nri. This chap has real charisma, is enigmatic without being annoying (not always an easy combination), and has a parrot called “The Captain”. It takes him just a few sentences to explain this story’s plot, and it’s a quest narrative. Our three heroes are to individually go back into time to find some McGuffins because, like, bad stuff will happen if they don’t.

So, as part of this history lesson for the kids, Clyde is in 1941, hiding behind a beach as Nazis come ashore. Sarah Jane is in 1889, helping a girl called Emily investigate a ghost. And Rani is with Lady Jane Grey. Ouch. Lady Jane is a pretty bloody tragic figure and what happened to her is really quite upsetting. I can’t help thinking of that painting by Paul Delaroche (all right, I googled him), showing a terrified and blindfolded sixteen-year-old girl being escorted to the nearby block to be beheaded. That’s horrible.

Emily, meanwhile, has lost her mother, and being a late Victorian she turns to Spiritualism for comfort. This “ghost” seems to be another tribute to The Stone Tape, except that these are recorded voices not from the past, but from the future. Meanwhile, Clyde and his ‘40s mate George are captured by suitably evil Nazis, and they have a secret weapon: Thor’s hammer, which for some reason has radar-scrambling properties. Meanwhile, Jane’s mate Lady Matilda seems to be plotting something…



Part Two

“This is so unfair…”

On paper this is a decent script from Rupert Laight, but there seems to be something missing. There isn’t really any overarching theme between the three historical romps, I suppose. Still, this is an entertaining bit of fluff, although perhaps they should have gone for something other than the Lady Jane Grey stuff in a kids’ programme. Perhaps I’m getting a bit soft with my relatively advancing years (I’m only 34, mind!), but the idea of a sixteen-year-old girl knowing that she soon faces execution is quite profoundly upsetting.

The full horror is hinted at early on; Rani may have saved Jane from being murdered by Matilda (oh, and the knife is the MacGuffin), but in doing so she’s condemned her friend to an imminent and much more unpleasant fate. This is done in a relatively soft way for the kid viewers, but I still think they should have steered well clear of this. Am I overreacting? I was quite upset by this!

Fortunately, Clyde’s boys’ own adventure with Nazis and Sarah Jane’s ghost story (even though it involves children dying in a house fire) are a bit of a break from the Jane story. The best thing about both of these, of course, is Clyde’s magnificent and inspiring speech to George. Shame he has to lose his phone.

Clyde and Rani get their McGuffin back from the past without much trouble, but Sarah Jane doesn’t do as well. Fortunately, we get a resolution straight out of Back to the Future II (and Blink), as Emily’s granddaughter gives Sarah the key, using the newspaper clipping handed to Emily earlier on. The shopkeeper and his parrot disappear, enigmatic as ever, while both Rani and Clyde read up on what happened to their friends from the past.

I can’t put my finger on much that’s wrong with this one, but it didn’t quite do it for me. I admit, it’s mostly because I find the thought of a sixteen-year-old child facing being beheaded profoundly upsetting, but there was something a bit by-the-numbers about this story.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Empty Planet

Part One

“Your aunt likes rubbish biscuits.”

There’s been a brief hiatus in these Sarah Jane Adventures reviews, as I’m watching them on the hard drive on the communal television downstairs. It’s not so easy to get a clear run at that television with a notebook for fifty minutes, hence the switch to Blake’s 7, which I can easily watch upstairs on DVD. I’m ploughing on, though: after this one there are two more episodes of The Sarah Jane Adventures, plus of course a Christmas special and the current series of Doctor Who. It’s just that I’m watching them when I can, and switching to Blake’s 7 when I can’t.

Anyway… we begin with a shot of the Earth from space, by now an almost disturbingly frequent visual motif, and a normal evening for Clyde and Rani, in both cases with some rather touching encounters with a parent.

Then, it’s the following morning, and we follow both Rani and Clyde as they discover that they seem to be the only people left in the world. This might be cheap television, and several minutes of very little dialogue, but it’s effectively done, with lots of nice touches. Finny, from all those episodes ago, gets another mention. The question of why cars and planes don’t seem to have crashed is raised. Clyde leaves cash on the counter when getting breakfast. But the best thing is the rapport between Rani and Clyde. I love the way that neither of them will admit that they fancy each other, lines about Adam and Eve notwithstanding.

We discover that there’s a third person still around, Gavin, and incidentally get confirmation that Rani and Clyde are both sixth formers. This Gavin bloke is obviously important. But the coolest thing about this bit is, of course, the revelation that Clyde can’t stand Chris Moyles. Sensible chap.

There are some more nice scenes between Rani and Clyde, as first they fall out and then they start to reflect, worrying if perhaps they’re just hangers-on, only kept around by Sarah Jane because they’re nosey. It’s great to see that they love what they do.

Suddenly, though, they’re both attacked by robots which look considerably cooler than the one I saw on Blake’s 7 last night…



Part Two

“Jordan love rat shock. Labour backbencher. Lady Gaga. Aston Villa striker. Partly cloudy.”

The plot thickens; Clyde and Rani realise the robots don’t seem to have any sensors to track them down. They work out that they may be left on Earth only because they’ve been grounded by the Judoon, in which case Gavin needs explaining. They’re showing themselves to be very smart and resourceful. And Clyde kisses Rani on the cheek. Well, well, well!

The robots finally make contact; they don’t want to fight, only to bargain. They want the return of their exiled king, who is of course Gavin. Clyde and Rani duly track him down, and everything works out happily. Gavin’s off to be king of an alien planet with CGI rather similar to that of New Earth- nice work if you can get it. And Clyde and Rani are now “lord” and “lady”. Good job this worked out ok; things could have gone all Shrek the Third.

We end happily; Rani and Clyde are closer together, Sarah Jane is bloody proud of them both, and there’s some more amusing red herring stuff about Haresh finding out what’s going on. Another good ‘un.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Death of the Doctor

Part One

“Faster. Shuffle for your life!”

Again we begin with a brief conversation with Luke, at uni, on a screen. Interesting that, although Luke isn’t a full member of the team any more, they’re not severing the links completely. Does this indicate limited availability for Tommy Knight?

This is a special episode; the first RTD script for The Sarah Jane Adventures since it began, and his first script for anything since he left Doctor Who. It’s also, of course, fanwank of the very best kind.

The plot wastes no time is getting started, as UNIT surround Sarah Jane’s house and inform her that the Doctor has snuffed it. His remains have been brought back to Earth by a race of space undertakes known as the Shansheeth. They, er, look like vultures. This not only tells us they’re up to no good but reminds us who wrote this. Likes his aliens to look like animals, does RTD.

The early moments, with Sarah Jane in denial and Haresh’s nice little comments about bereavement being hard to accept are well-judged, however much they may be more than a little undermined by later events! Very soon the gang are ensconced in a rather dark and claustrophobic base under the supervision of the suitably sinister Colonel Karim.

It seems there’s not going to be much of a turnout. The Brig’s in Peru (again!), and Liz Shaw is on “the moonbase”. There are some comedy Graske at UNIT too, or rather “Groske”. I rather like the little darlings. They seem to think Clyde “smells of time”. Hmm.

Sarah Jane sits in silence by the coffin with nothing to comfort her in her grief apart from a couple of clips from Pyramids of Mars and Death to the Daleks. Just as things are really getting a bit mournful, Jo Grant makes her entrance, and it’s quite an entrance. Katy Manning is clearly as lovely and as mad as ever. Although the lines about needing her glasses seem to somewhat blur he distinction between actress and character. Still, I like in-jokes. In-jokes are good.

It’s great to see Jo and Sarah Jane finally meet. Jo’s life since The Green Death rings true; forever wandering, uber-leftie, loads of sprogs, grandson called Santiago. Who, incidentally, has recently travelled through somewhere called “Las Malvinas”. Ooh, controversial!

There are a lot of echoes of School Reunion, of course. Jo feels sad that the Doctor never returned and, when Sarah Jane lets slip she’s seen him several times, Jo is clearly hurt. This is all the more heartbreaking because Jo is so nice and not- jealous about it (“He must have really liked you.”). Great stuff. We see the two of them reminiscing over Peladon, and there’s a moment of true fanwank joy as Jo finally mentions Karfel.

We soon discover the Shansheeth are up to no good. Now there’s a surprise. It seems they intend to “drain the minds” of the two “wise old women”, which is not very nice.

We finish with Clyde’s body exchanging places with… the Doctor. This is all really rather exciting.



Part Two

“Come along, Smith!”

It’s rather pleasing, after the shocking recent news of Elisabeth Sladen’s unexpected death, that Sarah Jane and Matt Smith’s Doctor got their chance to meet. Both Sarah Jane and Jo are overwhelmed by the “Wasteland of the Crimson Heart”, their first alien planet for ages.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Clyde is back. Rani hugs him (definitely something going on here!!!), and that sinister Colonel Karim turns out to be a baddie.

There are some nice character moments in between the fast-paced action. The Doctor and Sarah discuss his recent regeneration (it always hurts), and the Doctor and Jo have a good catch-up. Once again it’s clear that Jo feels sad that the Doctor never returned for her, and once again this is so much sadder because of her lack of bitterness. The Doctor’s response provides a sort of catharsis, but it’s still implied that he didn’t think to look up Jo until “the last time he died”. I’m reminded of the things the Dream Lord said about his abandonment of his friends once they stop their travels.

Back on Earth, there are cool things happening. The Groske’s cunning plan is… to hide in a room and eat some pizza, on the entirely reasonable grounds that the Shansheeth are a bit scary, and Santiago is a bit jealous of the exciting lifestyles of Clyde and Rani, with all the “aliens, and cheese, and stuff”.

It’s just about time for the climax, but just before we get to that RTD lobs in a grenade of a line about the Doctor being able to regenerate 507 times. Bet you he was chuckling while he wrote that, and sent an email to Ben Cook about how naughty he was feeling.

It turns out the Shansheeth’s cunning plan is to get Jo and Sarah Jane to remember the TARDIS key, which they can then conjure into existence. They will then be able to use the TARDIS to stop anyone ever dying, ever. Just like that episode of Family Guy.

Fortunately the Doctor has a cunning plan for Sarah Jane and Jo to show lots of brief clips from the 1970s and stop the Shansheeth in their tracks. Fitting that the alien baddies should be defeated by nostalgia!

We then end with Jo getting to see the inside of the TARDIS, generally being lovely, and saying goodbye to everyone in a rather adorable way. She’s as mad as a pencil, mind.

And call me a sentimental old fan, but I just love learning what all of the old companions have been up to! Tegan’s in Australia campaigning for Aboriginal rights; Ben and Polly are running an orphanage in India; Harry became a campaigning Doctor, although he sadly seems to have died; “Dorothy” is running some charity or other; and Ian and Barbara are married, are both professors at Cambridge, and haven’t aged at all. Love it!

That may have been a load of old fanwank, but I loved it. Matt Smith may not really have had the screen time to really shine, but I’m glad he was there. And it was so, so great to see Katy Manning again.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Vault of Secrets

Part One

“So where’s Will Smith?”

At last, we have a Men in Black episode! The pre-titles teaser is good fun, with a nice old-fashioned sprained ankle adding to the fun. But we then learn that the person trying to infiltrate this big building is in fact our old friend Androvax, Destroyer of Worlds.

I love the early scene inside the attic, with a brief cameo of Luke and Sarah Jane sabotaging the NASA Mars probe- while hinting at a pyramid from an alien civilisation (Ice Warriors?). The series and the characters have developed by now to a point where we can have lots of nice little scenes like this.

There are some more nice comedy scenes with Haresh and the lovely Gita, using Mina Anwar’s considerable comic talents to the full. Their UFO obsession from last season continues as Gita drags the long-suffering Haresh to a kind of Aliens Anonymous grouping called BURPSS.

After some amusing scenes involving Haresh and some greenery we discover that Androvax has actually come to Sarah Jane for help in reviving his people. But apparently he’s dying, having been bitten by a snake n a rather nasty Devil’s Island-style tropical prison world.

We soon discover that the Vault is run by some sinister android Men in Black, part of a sinister alien conspiracy to “confiscate” alien tech from Earth and wipe peoples’ memories. Bet Torchwood would have got on with them famously. I like the title “Alliance of Shades”. Shades are cool.

Things start to heat up, as brave Clyde agrees for Androvax to take over his body, and then it all kicks off. This is an ok script from Phil Ford, with some nice characterisation of the regulars, but it’s all a bit ho-hum so far.



Part Two

“Your associates have been Clyde-inated. Nice shades, though.”

Ah. So, if the Vault is opened, then bye bye Earth? That changes things a bit, and gives the story a shot of adrenalin. This is a fast-paced, exciting episode with a lot of running in it. There’s also a bit of excitement surrounding the lovely Gita- Androvax takes her over at the start so she certainly has to find out about the Scoobies- how’s this going to play out?

Also interesting to see Rani and Clyde briefly holding hands- I think this is going to slowly develop. Aah!

There are some nice moments- Clyde tricking two Men in Black into shooting each other, and Elisabeth Sladen again showing what a great actress she was by giving her very different performance where possessed by Androvax. Amusingly, after all the misdirection over Gita having to be told about what’s going on, she blurts out how she can’t wait to be in the news and ends up having all things alien wiped from her memory. Not sure about the ethics of this, really, especially with the lovely Gita!

It’s a nice ending, with Androvax’s people surviving. After a slow part one, this ends up as quite a decent story.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Nightmare Man

Part One

“It’s all my fault!”

So, we still have the spiel at the start, narrated by Clyde. It’s different, though, with different footage. A whole new series. The Marathon may be over, but the post-Marathon starts here!

This is the first episode of The Sarah Jane Adventures I’ve seen since… you know. This was only on telly last autumn, and Lis is fantastic as always. I think it’s going to feel quite unreal for some time. I haven’t seen any of this series before; it’s all going to be a genuine surprise.

The beginning, with its “keep watching” and Luke speaking into a camera, is very metatextual. Surprising to see something like this in the Whoniverse’s show aimed particularly at kids, but Joseph Lidster’s script is fantastic, and very, very adult in the best possible way. It’s all a bit scary, even a bit Ghostwatch, for kids, I would have thought. But this is superb.

We start a year earlier than the main narrative- has a year passed, or did this happen a year ago? Whatever, Luke is taking his A levels a year early, and he got four A*’s. Lucky git. We never had A*’s in my day. Still, I only got four B’s and a D, and one of the B’s was General Studies, so I suppose I’m just not clever like what he is.

This all feels very real- University (Oxford, no less!) approaches, and the pace of change is all too much for Luke’s seventeen year old mind. This is quite close to home for me; I had the only depressive episode in my life aged seventeen and eighteen at the sheer conveyor-belt inevitability of A Levels, University, and so on. I ended up dropping out of uni until I was twenty-three and all grown-up. Luke’s a lot more sensible than I was, though, and I’m sure he smokes rather less weed than I did back then. Still, there’s sensible and there’s sensible. I think going to bed at 10.37pm is a bit much, frankly.

Luke’s nightmare sequences are brilliant, and tell us so much about his fears and insecurities- will his friends forget him? Will his mother abandon him? This is so very well-written and performed, and highly appropriate fare for teenagers, although I would have thought the target audience to be younger.

There’s a very tangible sense of melancholy at Luke’s current life ending, and what will feel at first like an end for his friendships. I love the party. Intriguing to see Luke apparently setting up Rani and Clyde- should I be watching this space?

The moment we finally get a glimpse of the Nightmare Man is eerie and effective. Yes, I know it’s only clown make-up(ish), and we’ve had clowns before. But it works. And the concept of Luke’s next nightmare giving life to the Nightmare Man and dooming the world is well scary. This is quite a cliffhanger…


Part Two

“I need a USB lead, Sarah Jane.”

Interesting to see the nightmares of Rani and Clyde. Rani’s has Doon Mackichan in it (yay!) but plays on her fears and ambitions surrounding journalism as she’s forced to co-present a programme exposing Sarah Jane. Interesting that the comments of the Evil Newsreader, that Sarah Jane is putting children in danger, are quite accurate! Clyde, meanwhile, is stuck in a dead end job, mocked by an elderly Sarah Jane. Both dreams say a lot about the characters.

Elisabeth Sladen is utterly superb as an elderly version of herself. Roles like this really give her a chance to show her range. It’s… weird to see her playing a role like this at the moment, of course.

There was a laugh out loud moment for me at the bit where Clyde exclaims “This isn’t a real burger bar. There aren’t real burgers. And you- you’re not the real Sarah Jane.” The Android Invasion, anyone? I love little bits like this.

The ending is satisfying and makes sense, and also wraps up the B-plot of Luke’s nerves at going to uni. But off to uni he is. And he’s taking K-9 with him...

This is superb. Possibly the best thing on SJA so far.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Gift

Part One

“I was about to thank you. A break from the dog is most appreciated.”

“Bit annoying, is he?”

“I couldn’t possibly comment…”

I love the way we start this episode at what would be the end of a normal story, with our heroes on the verge of foiling a Slitheen plot, only for our expectations to be thwarted by the arrival of the Blathereen. Sadly, it’s one of very few cool things about this unfortunate episode. It’s a nice plot, but The Claws of Axos did it better.

There are a lot of old foes in SJA, aren’t there? It’s not long since the Trickster was back, and now it’s the Slitheen again. At least this is a new twist on them from new writer Rupert Laight (who he?). And there’s a nice early bit of education for the kids as we’re old how diamond is just compressed carbon and that. But this is very slow and talky- surely the kids must have been bored. I know I was. At least we get a nice bit of fanwank, though. Apparently Raxacoricofallapatorius, Clom, Clix and Raxacoricovarconpatorius (gotta love subtitles) are part of something called the Raxas Alliance. Well I never.

Things get worse, though. Clyde using K-9 to cheat in a school test is both silly and out of character. And how did he manage to lip a massive robot dog into the classroom, anyway?



Part Two

“How dare you! We’re nothing like the Slitheen. We’re much, much worse!”

Come to think of it, it looks as though this entire clumsy and out-of-character plot strand of Clyde using K-9 to cheat in a test is there mainly to ensure K-9 is able to save Clyde and Rani from the exploding Rakweed. Sigh.

The conclusion seems to go through the motions. The school bell destroying the Rakweed is too much of a coincidence. In an episode which I otherwise like I could be forgiving (The Seeds of Death uses water in a similar way), but this is one piece of clumsiness too many. And the Blathereen want to use Earth as a farm for growing Rakweed, which seems to be narcotic, in a cack-handed attempt to draw parallels with the hard drugs trade. Sigh again.

It’s an unfortunate ending (1/5) to what was otherwise an excellent series. The only surprise for me was that the whole “Chandra family do The X-Files” angle from Prisoner of the Judoon wasn’t followed up. Perhaps next season?

Phew! First Torchwood, now I’ve got to the end of The Sarah Jane Adventures. If we, er, ignore the entire season which has aired since the Marathon officially ended, that is! Just sixteen episodes of Doctor Who to go for me. Then I just have to catch up on the post-Marathon stuff and I’m up-to-date…

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Mona Lisa's Revenge

Part One

“Leo was a bit of a ledge, even back then…”

I’m really enjoying this third series, especially speaking as someone who wasn’t too fussed with the first two and had actually been procrastinating over watching this one. But it really seems to have found its mojo. The characterisation, style and mood of the whole thing just feels so much more assured, and lighter on its feet. There are lots and lots of nice little touches. Case in point: Clyde’s artistic talents from Mark of the Berserker haven’t been forgotten. And there’s a great moment when he realises that no one is laughing at him for being geeky, and everyone thinks it’s pretty cool.

This is a great little episode from Phil Ford. The central concept (the Mona Lisa coming to life as a bad-ass yet very witty Lancashire lass) is such fun. This is the first time I’ve seen Suranne Jones in anything (I don’t do Corrie) and she’s fantastic. And the unveiling of Leonardo’s painting of Miss Trump is great precisely because you know what’s coming.

Oh, and I noticed the sly little nod: “I told them security had to be improved here. I told them! After that Cup of Athelstan fiasco at Easter…”. Also cool is the cameo by Lizo Mzimba as himself. And yes, I know the cliffhanger is the most predictable thing ever but in the circumstances it’s irresistible!



Part Two

“You’ve gone right over to the dark side!”

I like highwaymen. Highwaymen are cool. But this entire little story of “The Abomination” is the coolest thing ever, not to mention very scary indeed. Also, Suranne Jones continues to be awesome. This is great.

The ending is fantastic. “Harders” redeems himself, sort of, although he still gets quite deservedly dumped. There’s an explanation involving meteorites and similar events to those of Day of the Clown. And Luke saves the day by being really, really clever, and also resourceful and independent. This is really very good indeed. 5/5.