An Adventure in Space and Time

"You can't rewrite history. Not one line."

I'm watching the rerun of An Unearthly Child on BBC 4 as I write this, with a big grin on my face. Admittedly, this is mostly because tomorrow I get to see my fiancée again after eleven long days but, blimey, what a piece of telly that was! A real tribute, and amazing, from my perspective as a fan who knows about this stuff, that a drama is being shown on BBC 2 about this of all things.

The cast is superb, but is very much led by David Bradley, who simply is Bill Hartnell. His mannerisms when playing the Doctor are perfect, and the similarities and differences with the "real" Hartnell are brilliant too: the clip of the interview with Hartnell shown after the programme, presumably a major source of research for Bradley, shows us that he nailed it; Hartnell as himself was irascible, considerably less posh, and very prickly about his status as an actor.

Mark Gatiss' script is excellent too; indeed, this sort of thing plays exactly to the strengths of the arch-nostalgic. Gatiss takes the messy, complex reality of television production and selects he people and events on which to focus. The result is a tight, focused drama with real heart. The presentation of Hartnell, in particular, is a fine line; Gatiss and Bradley don't shy in any way from his difficult side, but we can't help but like this deeply emotional man who cares deeply beneath the gruff exterior, and who delights in his unexpected popularity with children.

The script judges correctly how much to show of his rather bigoted opinions, I think, with just one quip to Waris Hussein about A Passage to India being a "one way trip" hinting at a side of Hartnell which would not much endear him to us. But there's a much greater focus on the tribulations faced by, and solidarity between, "the posh wog and the pushy Jewish bird". We first meet Verity Lambert (the excellent Jessica Raine) on an uber-trendy party straight out of Mad Men. This is her world; metropolitan, sophisticated and mostly populated by women like herself, who stop to turn on the telly to see Valentina Tereshkova do her bit for the cosmic sisterhood. The BBC, ruled by middle aged men in NHS specs who address Verity as "dear lady" is manifestly not her world, and she has to fight against its misogyny every step of the way.

Of course, Waris Hussein constantly suffers the racist digs that would have been everywhere in 1963, and can't get served at the BBC bar without Verity's help. There are also hints at his sexuality; he is doubly alienated, and not exactly the sort of person whom one would imagine getting on with Hartnell. And yet, a couple of years later, Hartnell is nostalgic for both of them, trapped in a show he loves but with familiar, friendly faces dropping away. The recreation of the speech from The Massacre may have used a little artistic licence, but it was wonderful, and as sublime a performance from Bradley here as the original was for Hartnell.

The whole thing is beautifully shot, and there are plenty of lovely touches, from the cameos by Jean Marsh, Anneke Wills, William Russell and Carole Ann Ford to the Cyberman who is allowed to puff away on a fag in his fibreglass suit by the 1963 Health and Safety bods. The many recreations- of The Daleks, The Edge of Destruction, Marco Polo, The Reign of Terror and many more are great fun. We open with the 1963 BBC ident, a lovely touch, and there are brief nods to Delia Derbyshire's work on the theme tube and Peter Brachaki's jobsworth genius on the TARDIS control room. We close with a highly appropriate cameo from Matf Smith. But this is Bradley's and Gatiss' triumph, and a triumph it surely is.

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.

Doctor Who: Frontios

Part One

“We’re at war.”

“Really? With whom?”

“Well, that has yet to be determined.”

Christopher H. Bidmead again! After not enjoying his previous efforts I wasn’t particularly expecting to like this one much. I couldn’t have been much wronger. I’m still confused as to how the author of Logopolis and Castrovalva can be responsible for such strong plotting, gripping suspense, witty and naturalistic dialogue, and brilliant characterisation. I doubt it’s Eric Saward’s influence, frankly, so I’m left scratching my head. But I liked this. A lot.

Still, one thing hasn’t changed from Bidmead’s earlier efforts; the sheer imagination on display in his choice of story title.

We begin in the TARDIS, where Tegan has actually changed her clothes for only the fourth or fifth time ever. My, what a short skirt she’s wearing. Anyway, the TARDIS Acorn Electron flags up a warning that they’ve drifted too far into the future- perhaps beyond Gallifrey’s “present”? Anyway, it’s forbidden for Time Lords to travel there.

The planet in question, Frontios, seems to be entirely populated by former crew members of Imperial Star Destroyers, judging by the uniforms everyone is wearing. I spent pretty much the entire story half expecting Darth Vader to walk into shot and asphyxiate random characters but, at last, it was not to be. And everything on the planet beyond a few sets seems to consist of obvious matte backgrounds. None of this seriously harmed the story though- it’s script and acting that matter and in this story both are on song.

The Doctor gets involved, naughtily, and for the first time ever (?) puts on his glasses. His development into a more assertive, traditional Doctor is instantly apparent and his charisma, as much as his obvious knowledge and usefulness, instantly get chief scientist Range and his daughter Norna firmly on his side. That sort of thing wouldn’t have happened in previous seasons. It’s an extremely welcome development.

We’re introduced to the basic situation; a colony in a precarious situation, at war with an unseen power, and retreating into authoritarianism in its increasing desperation. We’re also given clear introductions to the characters, all of whom have memorable traits- I particularly like Plantagenet with his line in pompous cod-Churchillian speechifying at the drop of a hat.

And that’s quite a cliffhanger, the TARDIS apparently destroyed…

Part Two

“I think this joke’s gone far enough.”

The Doctor’s about to be shot, but the quick-thinking Turlough retrieves the situation by threatening everyone with the deadly hatstand. But the best thing about this scene is its subverting of expectations; when the Doctor insists that if Plantagenet won’t see reason he’ll just have to shoot him, Plantagenet… agrees.

A few succinct lines from Range to Tegan further underline the direness of their plight; constant death and a sense of panic are causing this society to unravel, and desertion (by “rets”) is increasing. And then there’s the “deaths unaccountable”. Meanwhile, Norna and Turlough establish that the late Captain Revere forbade all digging and that “the Earth is hungry”. That’s how to build up suspense!

Bragen’s still apparently paranoid, but the real sense of threat is no longer coming from him but underground. We see Plantagenet drawn beneath the surface and various characters venture underground, where there lurk some odd looking woodlice monsters. This terrifies Turlough, who starts to mutter about “Tractators”…

Part Three

“Frontios buries its own dead.”

The Tractators look very rubbery, the bottom of the costume is very unsatisfactory, and I can’t understand a great deal of what they say. But none of that stops this story being great- it’s all about the script and performances.

Mark Strickson is once again excellent in portraying Turlough’s mental breakdown, and once again the character gets some decent development- the character’s been quite well served so far. And it’s not just good character stuff that helps make the padding often necessary in a part three serve a useful purpose; the scene with Bragen and the looter, where the looter leaves only to be immediately attacked for his food makes a powerful point about human interdependence. Admittedly, though, it starts a minor plot thread which doesn’t really go anywhere. 

The story quite awesomely turns our expectations on their head as Range’s apparent show trial at the hand of the paranoid Bragen quickly metamorphoses into a council of war, and Bragen is revealed to have secretly been quite aware of what’s been going on but suppressing it for understandable reasons of morale. Suddenly we see the character, and everything he’s done so far, in an entirely different light.

Turlough, having been traumatised by the memories that have been unleashed, nevertheless resolves to join the others underground, an extremely brave thing to do. This is a pivotal moment for the character. After all, when we first met Turlough back in Mawdryn Undead he was shown to be a coward, a liar, even a bit of a bully, and quite willing to make a pact with the Whoniverse’s very own Mephistopholes. He may redeem himself a little by proving incapable of murder or betrayal but he’s still not a particularly agreeable character by the end of Enlightenment. And even these redeeming characteristics take the form of inaction, and so are themselves a form of cowardice.

Turlough has continued to be a bit of a coward ever since, always the first to suggest returning to the TARDIS at the sign of serious danger, or to insist that there’s nothing that can be done to help others. But the Doctor’s positive influence is having a gradual effect, and here for the first time he’s taking a brave step in facing his own very real fears in order to help his friends. A corner has been turned, it seems.

The cliffhanger is quite horrific in a body horror sort of way, although probably more so if you haven’t seen Voyage of the Damned…

Part Four

“Don’t mention it!”

I love the scene where the Doctor tries to pass Tegan off as an android to the Gravis, but “the walk’s not quite right.” Is this really the same Bidmead whose attempts at humour in Logopolis and Castrovalva fell so spectacularly flat? 

This story is so good, even the traditional Davison “showing off the TARDIS scene” is great. So good, in fact, that I’ll even discreetly gloss over the fact that the Tractators' plan is to, er, steer Frontios around the galaxy. Nothing to see here. Move along.

The Doctor quite unambiguously saves the day for once by cleverly tricking the Gravis into re-assembling the TARDIS through reverse psychology, causing the Gravis to fall asleep in exhaustion. And we end on a cliffhanger.

Wow. I wasn’t expecting something that good. This is my third 5/5 of the Davison era after Kinda and Enlightenment. It’s not quite up to the standard of those two exceptional stories, but in a sense it’s even more wonderful; while both of the other stories were one-offs, very different from all that surrounded them, this is very much of the Davison style, but done perfectly.