Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: One Door Closes

"Who's coming for me?"

"SHIELD."

More big things happening this week; Agents of SHIELD is swiftly reminding me of Chris Claremont's long run on Uncanny X-Men in that events are always  in flux and there is no status quo. 

One of those things is the belated revelation that Fitz has a first name: Leo. Rather bigger is Coulson finally confronting Mack on exactly what he's up to: Coulson is no fool and knows damn well that something is going on. Mack, though, keeps insisting that he works for "SHIELD". Meanwhile, May is having a similar confrontation with Bobbi, only with an awesome fight scene thrown in: it looks as though the plotters have been caught.  

Skye, meanwhile, is visited by the eyeless Inhuman, Gordon, in her prison- er, safe house- which was originally built by Dr Bruce Banner to contain the Hulk. She, and we, are left to ponder the extent to which her SHIELD friends want to help her and the extent to which they wish to catalogue, prod, and restrain. He leaves, having given him an open offer to come with him to a place (Attilan?) where there are others like her.

There are further flashbacks here, one featuring Hartley, intended to give us the background to Bobbi's and Mack's motives, but it cuts little ice with Fitz, betrayed by his friend, and Simmons, running rings round Bobbi. Just when it looks like our heroes have the upper hand, however, Gonzales and his rogue SHIELD arrive and take over. Coulson is taken prisoner, and everyone else is offered a place with the usurpers. Fortunately, May has time to warn Skye to get away.

Everything is turned upside down by this massive twist, promising an exhilarating end to the season. 

Efforts are made to get us to sympathise with Gonzales' motives- he mistrusts the motives of the secretive Nick Fury, and doesn't accept his right to simply anoint Coulson as his successor- but we're not exactly rooting for him or his faction. 

We end with a cornered Skye taking up Gordon's offer, while an escaped Coulson meets up with fellow escapee Hunter in a bar, who finally accepts that permanent position...

Agents of SHIELD is bloody good right now.

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: Seeds

"You have got to put that away..."

At last. Not only is this the best episode do far by some way, it's also the only one so far to stand comparison with the best of Joss Whedon's other shows. You know, the ones he was actually involved with.

At last we get to see the S.H.I.E.L.D Academy of which we have heard so much or at least the scientific one. This is the alma mater of Fitz (whose first name, we learn, is Leopold) and Simmons, not to mention Bucky Barnes, who gets a namecheck. Here there are mysterious goings-on with people turning to ice, which turns out to be the doing of a brace of alienated prodigies. 

There's a lot else going on, too, though, and a lot of arc threads that get developed in a huge way. We get mentions of AIM and HYDRA. We get a boiler room bar that looks awfully like the Bronze from Buffy. We get Agent Weaver, played by Christine Weaver who was Cathica in the The Long Game episode of Doctor Who.

Most of all, though, we (and she) finally get to hear of Skye's origin: she began, mysteriously, as an "0-8-4", retrieved as a baby by S.H.I.EL.D and causing the horrible deaths of all who came near her until she was, ultimately, hidden from sight. The only Agent to survive warns Coukson and May to stay away from her because  "Wherever she goes, death follows".

Coulson, conscience-stricken, tells all to Skye, a devastating blow to her. Yet she reacts with positivity, seeing the good in that S.H.I.E.L.D has always looked after her, and is in effect her parent. There are both parallels and contrasts here with Coulson, who is now finally able to access the files surrounding his death and resurrection. We know not why, or how, he was revived, or whether it was for good or ill. We also know not how Skye came to be an 0-8-4. Questions, questions.

Oh, and while this is all going on May tells Coulson that she's shagging Ward. As you do. The relationship is now known about; it's bound to end in tears.

Fitz gets a bit of development here, as we see in the bond he shares with Donny (of whom, with his phenomenal intelligence and Bobby Drake style powers, we are bound to hear more). As a student he was a loner, awkward, more at ease with his experiments than with people. It figures, but also serves to humanise him. Hopefully, this is a step towards Fitz and Simmons becoming more developed characters and not just comic relief.

Oh, and we also have the mysterious, and deeply selfish and anorak, Ian Quinn. And his parting words to Coulson are that "The Claurvoyant says to say hello"...

Doctor Who: The Long Game

“Look at me- I’m stupid!”

Again we’re introduced to this week’s setting by means of on-screen media- a developing RTD trope- but this time it turns out to be the focus of the story as well. We also have an extra character in Adam, allowing this to be the first of two sort-of Doctor-Lite stories. And at last we get to a story I’ve been confidently expecting to award less than 5/5 to, which was going to be a good thing- after all, giving 5/5 to every story since Rose would be rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it. Er, well…

Annoyingly for my plans, we get a rather good beginning. It’s the year 200,000 (that RTD likes his big round numbers, don’t he?), it’s Satellite 5, and it’s the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. I remember being a little underwhelmed by the design four years ago but this time round I couldn’t see what made me think that- and it’s supposed to look rather less impressive than the Doctor’s expecting it to in any case. It’s all looking very 2000 AD, too, with Kronkburgers and all. And, as we’ll see, the way the subtext is done feels very 2000 AD, too. Much like the last two McCoy seasons did, in fact. There’s another thing I’ve learned from this Marathon; there’s far more continuity in style and content (Ace is also a kind of prototype Rose) between the McCoy years and the Eccleston years than I’d previously appreciated.

TV news is produced here, and it’s staffed by journalists, one of whom, Cathica, will be our audience identification character for this evening. And the journalists exist in a claustrophobic corporate atmosphere in which the ultimate is to be promoted to Floor 500, where “the walls are made of gold”. In the hands of a lesser writer this would already be food enough to supply the subtext for a forty-five minute tale. But we also get Simon Pegg and some interesting character stuff between Rose and Adam. On the one hand Rose is enjoying the chance to pose as the experienced traveller, but it’s clear that she’s unimpressed by him. He’s overwhelmed and needs to get away, and in doing so both rejects Rose’s lifestyle and subtly disappoints her. But worse, he has a selfish agenda.

There are increasing hints that all is not well; Suki is promoted to Floor 500, but we’re told, ominously, that those who go there never come back. Worse than that, though, is that Cathica, and those like her, are supposed to be journalists but show little or no curiosity for the world around them. Things just go unquestioned; Cathica hasn’t noticed the lack of aliens until it’s pointed out to her, casually guessing that security must have been tightened because of vaguely defined “threats” (“The usual stuff”)- a blatantly obvious bit of contemporary satire which I don’t remember noticing at the time and which also seems to have gone unnoticed in the media just a couple of weeks after RTD’s “massive weapons of destruction”. It just goes to show how much you can get away with in terms of satire when there are elements of the fantastic to hide it behind.

Things are not as they should be. Humanity’s development has been set back ninety years, and News Internatio- er, Satellite Five has been there for 91 years. Most damning of all is that the Doctor and Rose, who’ve only been there five minutes, instantly work out what’s going on and quickly get themselves to Floor 500 while Cathica just worries about getting into trouble and constantly fails to spot the obvious.

Adam, meanwhile, is behaving rather less impressively than the Doctor and Rose, having surgery to implant an “info-spike” for the purpose of relaying future tech to his family’s answer phone back in the 21st century so he can get rich. It’s a funny scene, but the consequences are going to be deadly serious, as the Doctor and Rose finally reach Floor 500 where they meet the Editor and his boss, the Jagrafess. And going by the beast’s appearance, it looks as though they got the real Rupert Murdoch to play him. Now there’s an impressive piece of casting.

We get a bit more juicy subtext which tears wonderfully into the tabloids’ favourite hobby horses (“Create a climate of fear and it’s easy to keep the borders closed,”), including a bit which has improved with end- the Editor represents a consortium of banks! But, essentially, our heroes are in dire peril, not helped by the fact that Adam has been an utter pillock and shown the Editor all of their innermost secrets. Fortunately, though, Cathica, “a member of staff with an idea,” has been listening, and saves the day. It’s the first time, but not the last, that an incidental character ends up as the hero, having been made a better person by the Doctor’s example- another fine RTD trope. And her ordinariness is wonderfully emphasised by the Editor’s dismissive “Who’s that?”

Adam, on the other hand, is dumped back on Earth for being such an utter pillock, and the family answer phone feels the wrath of the sonic screwdriver. “I only take the best,” says the Doctor. “I’ve got Rose.” In no way is this tempting fate for the next episode…

Er, it really has to be another 5/5, I’m afraid. Sorry. Duly embarrassed and all that. You never know, the season could still end up with less than a perfect score. It could happen. Seriously, though, it’s really surprised me how much I liked this. It’s the second new series story to enter my top ten, and the best so far of the twenty-first century.