Doctor Who: The Eaters of Light

"Death by Scotland!"

Usually my Doctor Who blog posts are fairly long ones as there's always something fannish for me to carp on at length about, but for once this time there isn't: we have a proper story of the week with very few returning elements, which is nice. It's often, as here, the stories that aren't trying to be "big" or "epic" that are, quietly, often the best ones. Instead we just get some bloody good writing from the only real returning element, Rona Munro.

Munro is, of course, the only writer to have written for Doctor Who, on proper telly, in both this century and the last, and after the 28 years(!) since Survival she again delivers a mystical, feminist, magnificent piece of writing exploring the themes of colonialism, gender, and sexuality in the rich historical setting of first century Pictland, where there's the mystery of the 9th legion and the temptation to quote Tacitus' famous "They make a desert and call it peace" is simply impossible to resist. We are shown proud, thoughtful and very young warriors on both sides and given a beautiful fairytale touch as we learn why crows make the sound they do. This is, quietly, one of the best episodes of the season. Even the CGI monster is brilliant.

Once more the chemistry between Bill and the Doctor is wonderful- I love Bill's explanation that the Doctor "always ends up being the boss of the locals"- and Nardole is as entertainingly sardonic as ever. But most intriguing is the sexual tension between the Doctor and a Missy who may actually be a reformed character, something which desperately needs to be explored in depth.

Doctor Who: Oxygen

"Do people ever hit you?"

"Well, only when I'm talking."

In some ways this is very much a story of the week- a tale of outer space capitalist exploitation as a corporation jealously controls oxygen for profit, even for its own employees and (as the Doctor discovers) is prepared to extinguish its own employees if they cease to be profitable. A bit of a hint that Jamie Mathieson may be no Tory, then, in another excellent script from him which, while not up to his best, is nevertheless impressive, keeping up the quality in this excellent season.

There's more development of the wonderful rapport between the Doctor and Bill, and for once Nardole joins them on their travels, attempting to keep them on Terra Firms; apparently it was the Doctor himself who told Nardole to prevent him leaving earth for fear of leaving the mysterious Vault unguarded. It can't be long until we find out more about this because, simply, this episode turns out not to be a story of the week- the Doctor ends the episode, it seems, permanently blind.

It's a splendid episode yet again, though, and again old-fashioned in its style, with some leisurely exploration of the space station and things feeling very Troughtonesque and, indeed, recalling The Wheel in Space for obvious reasons and even mentioning (and undercutting as a MacGuffin) the fluid link. There's a nice riff on racism ("Some of my best friends are bluish"), great dialogue and some nice directorial touches from the returning Charles Palmer as Bill loses consciousness. It may not stand out in what is shaping up to be a great season, but here's a fifth top notch episode in a row.

Doctor Who: Human Nature / Family of Blood

“No man should hide himself, don’t you think?”

I distinctly recall the first time I read Paul Cornell’s original novel. It was the autumn of 2002, I was about to start my third year at university, and I was the first to arrive in our new student house for the year. I spent the next forty-eight hours waiting for people to arrive, and had devoured the whole thing by the time they arrived. Being alone in a house with lots of noises from outside doesn’t half make for an atmosphere, and the book made quite an impression on me.

All of which is quite irrelevant, of course. The televised version is quite different, taking place over a much shorter time period, the meaning of the events to the regular characters are entirely different, and the pacifistic subtext has been considerably softened. But it’s just as great.

The pre-titles sequence is extraordinarily pacey and sets us up in the middle of events with skilful economy. It also packs quite a punch. The concept is utterly fantastic; the perfect Doctor-lite story, albeit one featuring David Tennant rather heavily. The Doctor is entirely absent for most of the episode, and yet at all times he’s the centre of attention. The structure of the narrative is also brilliant, with the use of flashbacks telling us all we need to know of the backstory while keeping exposition to the bare minimum.

The setting, a public school in 1913, is very interesting. The story doesn’t dwell on why the Doctor’s plan had to involve this particular setting, but it’s notable (if hardly an original observation) that the Doctor, in all his guises, has always had a particular fondness for the Edwardian era. It’s also singularly appropriate that he should be a history teacher. On the other hand, things are quite appallingly inconvenient for Martha, forced to live a life of drudgery and social restriction as Smith’s maid. This is dealt with well, though, and Martha gets the best character development that she gets all season. The depiction of the racism of the period is extremely well-judged; we get just the one overt moment of nastiness with Hutchinson’s comments, but there’s plenty of more subtle prejudice from the likes of Joan and even Smith, characters whom we find largely sympathetic but who are nevertheless of their time.

And then there’s the English public school setting, of course. To some it’s a formative experience; to a state educated oik like me it’s a part of popular culture, understood through the medium of the Jennings books, Lindsay Anderson’s If… and Stephen Fry’s autobiography; all this gives me an entirely accurate impression, I’m sure. I suppose introducing the building to the strains of To Be a Pilgrim is something of a cliché, but then some clichés are too good to resist.

Jessica Hines is fantastic as Joan, as of course is Tennant as Smith, and combined with one of the finest scripts the programme has ever offered the depiction of their relationship is extraordinary, with more layers revealing themselves with every viewing. There’s not much comedy in these episodes, but I love the early scenes of Joan flirting with a terrified John Smith.

Martha’s jealous of Joan, of course, and in fact this is the only story in the entire season which makes me almost forget that I think this whole infatuation subplot is a mistake. That’s a sign of a very good script.

Also very good is Harry Lloyd as Baines, both before and after he’s possessed. And isn’t invisibility such a wonderfully cost-effective way of realising an alien spaceship?

Only when the status quo is fully established do we get the full backstory and the introduction of the Chameleon Arch, no doubt a one-off McGuffin which will never be heard from again. And the “You are not alone” which we hear as Timothy takes the watch is, I’m sure, of no importance. There’s nothing to see here. Move along.

The baddies are quite effective; the scarecrows are great, of course, and the little girl with the red balloon is quite as sinister as she is in the novel. I love that nice little musical tribute we get to the similar character in Remembrance of the Daleks as she walks along a country lane.

Crikey, there’s so much going on that’s worthy of comment. The scene with Smith supervising the boys at “corps”, as I believe it’s called, is just dripping with meaning and subtext, this being 1913. “I hope, Latimer,” says the headmaster, “that one day you will have a just and proper war in which to prove yourself”. A war which would eventually not in fact be directed against “tribesmen from the Dark Continent”. I have to admit, though- in accepting machine guns the headmaster seems at least to be more forward-thinking than Field Marshal Haig would prove to be…

Oh, and of course there’s “Permission granted”. A brave move, but absolutely the right one in context.

Just before everything blows up, we get some wonderful stuff between Smith and Joan. There’s that sequence, of course (that scene, along with the hat, makes me think of John Smith as a sort of Clark Kent figure), and the nice tribute to the founders of the show with Smith’s parents being named as “Sydney” and “Verity”.

Ahem. A meal and two glasses of wine have been consumed since the last paragraph. Just warning you.

I love the way Joan follows Smith’s claim that his mother was a nurse with “We make such good wives.” Do you reckon she might be insinuating something? Then we have Smith finally asking her out. And the moving speech about widowhood. All of this is quite wonderful. And then we have the “Um, can you actually dance?” bit- nice reference!- and Martha’s rather upsetting dismissal (“Cultural differences…”), and the chat between the two love rivals in the pub. It’s all great, and then we have the cliffhanger…



The Family of Blood



“God, you’re rubbish as a human.”

And the gushing continues. I might as well tell you now that this is going straight to the top of my list…

Martha’s so brave in the early scenes, holding the baddies off with a gun and ensuring everyone is safe. It’s suddenly obvious that Cornell is writing her so much better than she’s been written before.

And the converse of this is Smith’s reaction- to instantly summon all the boys to defend the school with guns. Much as I like to poke fun at the exaggerated impression many fans have that the Doctor never uses guns (just look at Frontier in Space!), all this is so very unDoctorish.

Back to Martha- her “bones of the hand” speech is great. And once again it’s brave yet utterly right of Cornell to allow Joan, one of the characters we’re supposed to like, to express racist views- proto-feminist Joan may be, butte’s still of her time. In trying to make her believe that she’s a doctor-to-be Martha hits a brick wall. All this makes Martha look pretty damn great.

Smith gets some great lines once he has to confront his rather unenviable existential dilemma. “How can you think I’m not real?” he protests. “Am I not a good man?” It is now highlighted that he has no actual memories of his Nottingham childhood, another brilliant touch. Incidentally, I went to uni in Nottingham and I can’t quite recall whether some of the streets he mentions ring a bell…

We get more echoes of the recent past as Tim Latimer, a sort of Doctor substitute in some ways, declares himself “a coward, every time”. And then there’s the chilling juxtaposition of the battles scenes and To Be a Pilgrim. The headmaster is then killed, and Smith at last decides to send the boys away.

And then there’s Tim’s speech in the cottage. It should be corny. It’s not. I’ll quote it in full, cos I love it: “He’s like fire. And ice, and rage. He’s like the night, and the storm at the heart of the Sun. He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And he’s wonderful.”

The build-up and tension to Smith’s inevitable decision is brilliantly handled, and the implications are fully explored: “And it was your job to execute me?” he says to Martha.

Still- the scenes appear once the watch is opened, so I expect Smith experiences the rest of his whole life, in Life on Mars fashion. Tennant’s acting on the ship is superb- on subsequent viewings it’s more obvious that he’s playing the Doctor pretending to be Smith, but it’s a brilliant and great performance. And it’s great to have the Doctor back. He’s never more seemed like a “lonely god”; his punishments for the Family of Blood are like something out of Greek mythology, or perhaps Morpheus’ behaviour in the early issues of Sandman. This is deep stuff- I mean, the little girl being the thing in the corner of your eye whenever you look into a mirror?!

And then there’s the Doctor’s behaviour with Joan. Seldom has he been more arrogant, insensitive, or unlikeable. Someone would have always died somewhere, of course, but still, Joan is absolutely right: “Answer me this. Just one question, that’s all. If the Doctor had never visited us, never chosen this place- on a whim- would anyone here have died?” (Silence). “You can go.” Genius.


This is wonderful. Forget Doctor Who, this is one of the finest pieces of television drama I’ve ever seen. 5/5, and the best ever.

Doctor Who: The Shakespeare Code

“Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?”

“Yes. And I failed.”

The first thing we notice is that the London of 1599 is brilliantly realised, managing to look both convincingly real and beautiful at the same time. The pre-titles sequence is great, introducing the witches immediately. It’s important to get the witches in early and often; the kids watching are not necessarily going to be as fascinated by the Shakespeare stuff as ex-English students like myself.

Oh, and there’s Christina Cole. Mmm…

Last episode Deadly Lampshade mentioned the mixed messages the Doctor is sending out to Martha, and this time round that’s basically the whole basis of their relationship. The Doctor is taking Martha out on the mother of all dates on the one hand and reminding her that she’s getting one trip only on the other. He even sighs at one point and says they might as well stay for a bit longer. All this comes to head in the bedroom scene, of course, which symbolises everything that’s going on between them very neatly, possibly too much so. It’s left ambiguous whether the Doctor’s apparent obliviousness to the one way sexual tension here is genuine or assumed. He certainly mentions Rose at the worst possible moment.

Martha’s sci-fi literate take on time travel is great, though, and so is the Doctor’s undercutting of such things as butterflies and killing one’s own grandfather. And I love the Back to the Future element to the story’s “The world didn’t end in 1980” moment. There’s good handling of the issues surrounding Martha’s ethnicity in the European past, too; it’s acknowledged, but not made too much of. The right balance, I think.

Martha’s fantastic on her first trip- enthusiastic, resourceful, not afraid to tell William Shakespeare that his breath stinks. She’s very different from Rose; more mature and confident and less prickly because of it. And Freema Agyeman’s still lovely.

Anyway, Shakespeare. He’s a fascinating character here- witty, a very perceptive judge of character, hiding emotional depths behind a glib, rock star exterior, and enough of a genius that psychic paper doesn’t work on him. He’s very Doctorish, in fact. No wonder the two of them get on so well. It’s a great moment when Shakespeare casually explains that he’s worked out that they’re time and space travellers.

I like the stuff about words and magic, too. It’s almost like reading an interview of Alan Moore. And then there’s the Shakespeare fanwank bits- Love’s Labour’s Won, Martha being the Dark Lady of the sonnets. I wonder if one day we’ll get a sequel where the Carrionites try again with Cardenio?

Best of all, though, the script is just so witty. Another 5/5.

Doctor Who: Smith and Jones

“You’re quite a funny man. And yet, I think, laughing on purpose at the darkness.”

There’s no pre-credits sequence here, which tells us something: this is a relaunch for the show, a chance for new viewers to jump aboard. It’s doing a very similar job to Rose, but with the benefit of two years’ experience it’s much more assured.

The Doctor starts the story travelling alone, although the rawness of his feelings over Rose suggests this hasn’t been for long. I liked the Benjamin Franklin namedrop, which reminded me of the early Hartnells. You can tell the Marathon’s been going for a while as I’m actually getting nostalgic for earlier bits of it…

The central idea behind the story- a hospital on the moon- is utterly fantastic, and the plot works perfectly here. Oh, and the Judoon are great. And all this is all the more impressive considering that this story has a big job to do in introducing Martha. This job is done magnificently, although the early scene of Martha being phone by her entire family in succession felt a bit too obviously crowbarred in. Best of all, Freema is fabulous. Although I should declare an interest at this point: I have a bit of a thing for the lovely Freema.

Martha spends much of the story more or less auditioning for the role of TARDISeer; she impresses the Doctor with her calm acceptance of the situation, her intelligent questions about the oxygen, and her logical acceptance that the only possible explanation is extraterrestrials. Best of all, of course, she comes up with the Planet Zovirax quip. And of course there’s the kiss, which sets up the whole unrequited feelings arc.

The whole thing’s very funny, too, and although Remembrance of the Daleks was probably better it’s the most well-judged season opener possibly since Terror of the Zygons, and that’s a long time. I love the compensation joke, and the Doctor pretending to be an ordinary bloke.

We get a bit of season arc stuff before the very end as the mysterious Mr Saxon gets a verbal mention, and his posters are seen outside just as in Captain Jack Harkness. But the end is great; scenes introducing companions to the TARDIS are always fun, and this is one of the best. I love the Doctor mouthing the words from behind Martha’s back as she exclaims that “It’s bigger on the inside!” And almost as good is the Doctor’s quip about interfering in established events being “strictly forbidden, except for cheap tricks”, which is made even funnier by the distant sound of spinning from Mr Blinovitch’s grave.

Of course, it’s made very clear that the Doctor in no way fancies Martha. And she’s aboard for only one trip, definitely. He’d rather n his own. Well, that’s that then.


Not one of those episodes that hog the limelight, as it has a job to do. But this is great, and I see no earthly reason why it shouldn’t get a 5/5.