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.

The Box of Delights: Beware of Yesterday

"Now do you see, you mutineering doddlehead?"

Well then. A lot can happen in half an hour.

We begin with a reprise of the big cliffhanger reveal about Arnold of Todi and Ramon Lully, aka Cole Hawlings, and then we, along with a miniature Kay, get to see the splendidly moustache-twirling Abner providing more and more exposition, ostensibly to the mutinous but dim Joe. The clergymen have been taken as hostages for the Box's return, and silly Abner doesn't suspect Kay simply because Sylvia Daisy Pouncer has declared him an "idle muff". Heh. This may be the most lampshaded piece of dramatic irony ever.

But Kay has failed to rescue Cole, Peter or Caroline Louisa, so in desperation he turns to the Box, and Herne the Hunter. If Kay can go to the past, and persuade old Arnie to take back the Box, it wont be around to cause all this trouble, right? So we get a trippy and cartoony interlude as Kay travels to a surreal-looking Trojan War past which makes no attelpt at realism and, above all, probably didn't cost that much. Here he finds a delightfully eccentric Arnie, played by Philip Locke, who went forever to the past because "my own time was dull"; believes Englishmen has tails; has no wish to leave the tiny island in 1200ish BC on which he happens to be marooned, alone; and is quite, quit mad, This is silly, pointless, and really rather brilliant.

Back in the present, the Bishop and a load of choirboys are in dungeon cells and Abner plans to double cross hi underlings to escape on his own with the fortune from the various robberies the gang has committed. But they plan to double cross him too. Neither of whch is Kay;s concern at present as he's small, has lost the box, and is trapped.

This is, by now, completely and utterly bonkers. I love it.

The Box of Delights: Where Shall the 'Nighted Showman Go?

"I think it's the purple pim!"

Ok, now this is getting delightfully weird. The cliffhanger reprise sees Kay, having flown on his white horse, inside Arthur’s camp at some undefined mediaeval (Arthurian?) time and he’s asked to pitch in with a sword and defend them all against wolves. I’m sure there’s all sorts of symbolism here, and I’m wondering about the name “Kay”, very Arthurian.

But then it’s escape out of that “picture” to Cole, and some exposition. The box belongs to “Master Arnold” but Kay is to keep it safe. It can make him “go small” or “go swift”. Come only knows the “old magic” and is vulnerable to the “new magic”. All very intriguing and atmospheric. This is getting really good.

Things remain symbolic and weird as Kay and his friend Peter see Cole kidnapped by that dodgy pair of curates. Yet Cole phones them at the police station to say he’s alright- somehow we know that can’t be him. Incidentally, it’s surreal that the Inspector is in fact Superibtendent Strange from Inspector Morse with a Mummerset accent...

Caroline Louisa is away and incommunicado, leaving the maid in charge- has something happened to her? And when Kay looks into the box he sees a figure he recognised as Herne the Hunter, superficially a forest ghost but really a rich legendary figure, Lord of the Wild Hunt in all of Germanic Europe, and actually Woden. These may no longer be “pagan times” but the old gods are not forgotten.

And I had a jolt of memory- I remember that cartoon where Kay and Herne jump from animal form to animal form, with predators always being there. It’s awesome, and has brought back a long buried memory from when I was seven. Wow. And I’m appreciating more and more the great sense of using cartoons to remove the need for prohibitively expensive special effects.

This is awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I can accept that, when Kay shrinks and sets off to find the baddie, he can talk to an anthropological talking mouth in a terrible costume, and dodge some cringeworthy anthropomorphic rats. I don’t care. A programme this awesome can afford the off but of absolute crap like this. Never mind that we’ve never previously been made to suspect that talking animals might be a thing. I’m hooked.

This is awesome. I’m seven again.