Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 8

 "If you're strong enough to go through with this operation..."

And so it ends.On transmission, I was a little disappointed: Sam was just in a coma after all, and it seemed as though we'd been fobbed off with the obvious explanation. Watching it again, though, I'm rather impressed. This was always as much of a cop show as telefantasy; there's only so far they can push the envelop with the weirdness and funn with the fourth wall- and, as the episode literally ends with the Test Card Girl switching off our collective telly, I can't complain about any lack of weirdness.

Admittedly, the beginning is unfortunate, for reasons that would not have been forseeable in 2007; Sam hears the exposition on the radio about being operated on on 2007 from... Jimmy Savile. Ouch. Sam even says "Fix it for me, Jim." This unintentional nod to a nonce, in the actual finale, has probably done damage to the series' repeat value.

Nevertheless, this is a nicely structured finale that keeps you guessing as to what's really happening, with things shifting several times. The scene where Sam gives Morgan all his evidence about Gene in order to get "home", only to realise that he and Morgan are not talking abut the same thing and he's an undercover agent from Hyde to take down Hunt, is powerful indeed, and John Simm is extraordinary in the scenes in the graveyard.

The betrayal of all his colleagues, especially Annie, is powerful, as is the moment where all fades to white and Sam wakes up on an operating table in 2006. The world of 2006 is subtly made to look dull and grey and, while Sam's suicide by rooftop is perhaps not quite earned, the last few minutes make up for it as, presumably dying, Sam comes to accept and enjoy 1973... and kisses Annie. a surprisingly excellent and satisfying conclusion.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 7

 "I appear to have killed a man..."

The penultimate episode; we're close to the end, and it's interesting to see where they're going. The character of Frank Morgan- Gene's hopefully temporary replacement from "Hyde" with a name evoking The Wizard of Oz- is initially suspicious in his apparent desire to ruin hunt, but in the end he privately holds out to Sam the hope of getting "home". Ooh.

But all that metatextual telefantasy stuff is for the finale; this penultimate episode again focuses on a plotline that can only be done once: Gene Hunt being a suspect for murder. And it's very well done indeed, both as a whodunit and as an exploration of the bond between Sam and Gene. As Gene says, "Just be the picky pain in the arse you normally are and I should be fine." It's good to see the effects on Ray and Chris of the Guv being a suspect, but the whole will-they-won't-they romance between Sam and Annie has been strung along with so little consistency from episode to episode that their almost-kiss means very little.

It's all very clever, plot-wise, with twist and turns to keep you guessing, and a satisfying conclusion. There's surprisingly little of the usual '70s versus '00s culture clash stuff, but I suppose the premise doesn't really lend itself to that. Still, as we approach the end, I'm still of the view that Life on Mars succeeds more because of the great premise, the production and the performances, and that the scripts- while frequently good whodunits- are not really first rate stuff. But let's see how it all ends...

Life on Mars: Season 2. Episode 6

 "Yeah, they come over here, they take our bullets..."

It's no coincidence, I think, that Life on Mars leaves it until so close to the end to do a big, full-fat racism episode, full of casual bigotry from Gene and the gang. This is the one thing where, even given the 1973 context, in a 2007 programme we need to know the characters well to accept this kind of thing. In the end, though, the whole subject is dealt with sensitively and well, and even with some romantic musing over music, exile and the contemorary plight of Ugandan Asians, one year after Idi Amin expelled them. It would have sat better, I think, from a South Asian writer, but Guy Jenkin does a good job.

Gene and Ray keep the casual racism flying to Sam's dismay, as the temporal culture clash reaches its peak here. This is good character stuff for Sam but nicely balanced in not going too far with Gene.

It's also the wittiest episode for a while, with Gene in particular getting some superb lines. After it seems they've used up all the coma-related 2006 plot points we get a good one as, this time, Maya slowly decides to give up on Sam- just as the plot concerns her rather groovy parents. It also works well as a whodunit that doesn't cheat, and even develops Gene by giving him a brother addicted to speed. It also has the finest ferret scene I've yet to see on television, and Sam getting to interrogate his girlfriend's father.

It's a standout episode, again not written by a showrunner. It's also, I suspect, our last one-off whodunit as the end approaches...

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 5

"Is it Gene Hunt? Is he kicking in a nonce?"

Oh my. This episode is devilishly clever, and may be my favourite yet, not only using the format to do fun things with the fourth wall (irresistible in a series with a premise like this), but to do creative things with structure too, and with unreliable narrators (and, in the case of Graham Bathurst's arrest, unreliable camera angles) all over the place. There's even a structural nod to Rashomon. I love it. And bloody hell, it's only by Matthew Graham, by whom I'd been rather unimpressed until now.

Of course, the Camberwick Green sequence is awesome and rightly adored, but it says a lot for the episode as a whole that it's not overshadowed by this. Sam has had an overdose in 2006 / spiked drink in 1973, and we have a trippiness to the whole episode, where things are not what they seem. Yet, on the other hand, the episode functions as a wonderfully structured and dramatic double whodunit that doesn’t cheat and is full of satisfying twists. 

These two sides of the episode are brought nicely together by Sam coming into the case late, with an outsider’s perspective, and how everything hinges on another case from last year. This allows Sam to interview his colleagues and examine various angles on the case alongside us, the viewers. 

Last episode gave us an aspect of the 70s- swinging- as theme; this episode gives us structural cleverness. Taken together, they’re exactly what Life on Mars should be doing. Superb telly.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 4

 "So he pushed a bird out of a car. Don't make him a bad bloke."

It’s barely worth commenting on how inevitable it was that Life on Mars would do a swinging episode: what could be more 1973? What’s slightly more of a surprise is that an episode based around swingers could be so bloody good. And I’m not just saying that because of the magnificently done scenes of the greatest ‘70s soirée since Abigail’s Party or, indeed, the scene with the whip. A whip and handcuffs, after all, add a certain something to a house party that Blue Nun and vol-au-vents just can't provide.

There’s very little arc stuff here, other than Annie being rather standoffish, just an excellent hour of drama with a nice twist at the end as to the identity of the killers and a very ‘70s, very Reggie Perrin look at how bohemian ideals were starting to infiltrate the world of suburban middle class ennui. There’s also a lot of nice culture clash stuff, whether it’s Gene and Sam disagreeing on surveillance or the heavy explored sexism and, indeed, rather rapey attitudes of men like Ray, who continues to be a total arse. More subtle is the scene where Gene passionately exhorts his team to find the killer of these dead women, but not yet as it's "beer 'o' clock".

It's a solid whodunit, full of character, that exploits the format superbly, with Sam and Annie going  undercover as "Tony and Cherie Blair", which dates this as much as anything 1973. Let's hope the episodes to come will keep up this standard.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 3

 "Why don't we bring in that well-known terrorist, Dana...?"

A stronger episode this time, as the inevitable happens and Life on Mars does an episode based around the Troubles. Sort of.

Inevitaby, given the sensibilities of 2007, in the wake of a Northern Ireland Peace Process not yet imperilled by Brexiteering insanity, as opposed to those of 1973, the twist is going to be that the bomber has nothing to do with the Irish. This leads to a rather good whodunit which is cleverly done and just about manages to hide the fact that, if we assume the bomber isn't Irish, there's only one possible suspect.

What the episode does, thogh, is shed a light on the discrimination and bigotry faced by Irish immigrant labourers at the time, through the eyes of Patrick O'Brien as example. Not only do we see police brutality and stereotyping (Gene Hunt, of course), but discrimination in terms of employment and housing. O'Brien may well have several chips on his shoulder, but those chips are well-fried.

There's also a nice culture clash as Ray returns to work too soon after having been caught in a bomb blast, with counselling for his PTSD being eschewed in favour of a round of drinks.

The meta-stuff about Sam's coma is really there to add suspense and drama rather than develop any kind of arc, as usual, but for the first time in a while we see the Test Card Girl, subtly recast but no less creepy. 

The overall effect is impressive. This is rather good and, I note, not written by one of the showrunners.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 2

 "Have you ever heard of softly softly?"

"Yes, but I prefer Z-Cars..." 

I'm slowly coming round, on this re-watching on Life on Mars, that it's a programme where middling-to-good but not great scripts are saved by a great concept and cast, along with some frequently excellent direction and much fun with nostalgia. And yet occasionally, when a script from someone who isn't a showrunner turns up, the quality rises hugely. Ironically, for me as a Doctor Who fan in 2020, that outsider is usually Chris Chibnall, who so far has been the finest writer on Life on Mars.

This is a superb, character-driven episode which really pays off the appearance last episode of Kevin McNally's Superintendent Harry Woolf, as we gradually uncover the horrible truth that this exemplar of policing, Gene's mentor, has gone dodgy. This is nicely paralleled with Sam meeting his own future mentor in 1973- and finding an unsure young man dealing with racism by keeping his head down ("Why should I have to fight all the battles?" 

It's very much a western in tone, especially in the final Mexican stand-off where Glen hints at the great man he will become and Gene faces what his mentor has become. Philip Glenister is extraordinary. But we also get good character moments for the likes of Chris and Ray, and Annie's first days as a DC, and Onslow from Keeping Up Appearances being tied up.

It's not often I say this of Life on Mars, much as I love it, but this is a superb bit of telly.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 1

 "Now hands that do dishes can be soft as your face with mild green Fairy Liquid..."

Aargh. There's a lot I should in theory be liking about this episode, but I can't help feeling there's just a little too much clunkiness, a little too much artifice in the dialogue, a little too much... well, Matthew Graham.

The concept is sound- a killer in 2006 trying to torture Sam turns out to be the main suspect in 1973, with the narrative making it quite clear he's the killer; no whodunit here. Rather cleverly, we spend the first half of the episode seeing another police culture clash, with Sam insisting on by the book methods as opposed to Gene, with the new Superintendent (who must be significant as he's played by Kevin McNally) siding with Sam. But halfway through, as Sam gets desperate- for Tony Crane's future wife as well as himself- the roles are swiftly reversed as it's Sam who tries to fit up Crane while Gene is operating by the book.

This feels a little out of character, and the resolution is unsatisfying- just when Sam seems about to be rumbled for corruption the script cops out and suddenly has Crane trying to kill both Sam and Gene. It feels forced. So does the scene where Crane "outs" sam as being mad for thinking he's from the future, only for the tables to be turned and crane to be put into a mental institution, just like that. It's utterly ridiculous, and a shame, as the concept behind the episode is good.

We end with Annie joining the CID, while Sam received a mysterious phone call, from "Hyde 2612", about a secret mission in 1973. Intriguing, and pointing to future episodes which, I hope, are much betterthan this one.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 8

 "You make that sound like a bad thing..."

This is, of course, a superb and hard-hitting season finale, resolving the mystery of what happened to Sam's father. It's also, interestingly, an episode that eschews the usual commentary on social mores and between 1973 and 2006 in favour of what we Doctor Who fans call timey-wimeyness. It's a superb character piece, a pretty good whodunit with a twist, and a good bit of, yes, time travel science fiction.

John Simm is superb as Sam slowly unravels the truth about why his dad walked out on his family at a family wedding in 1973. Sam's wilful refusal to see Vic as anything other than a good bloke helps to cleverly misdirect us from the fact that Vic himself is the big bad, who commits two murders under our noses.

Also clever is that we learn the reason for the hallucination of the woods, which we've seen all series- it's Vic kicking Annie in a repressed childhood memory- would she have been killed without Sam there? And is his dad why Sam has gone back to 1973 in particular?

I think it's also becoming clear- especially following last episode- that Gene Hunt is a more nuanced and (whisper it) character behind the hard nut facade, like many a Western hero. He even forgives Sam for pulling a gun on him, but he clearly likes and respects Sam more than he will ever admit. 

This is an exeptional end to a fine first season. I've been alternating Life on Mars with The Crown, and will continue to do so, but I'll blog something short and very current over just a few days before I see you again for Series Two...

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 7

 "I left a weak man in charge..."

I saw this episode on its original broadcast but, as this was several months before Torchwood debuted, I had no idea who Chris Chibnall was- not the case the following season, where I distinctly recall discussing his episode of Life on Mars in the pub-so it's a surprise to see his name on the credits. This is interesting, because this episode is superb, certainly the finest so far. Chibnall may be a divisive figure in Doctor Who fandom, but he's certainly good at writing serious drama on the evidence of this, whatever you may thing of his family-oriented science fantasy.

There's a simple concept here- a death in the cells, for which everyone on the team bears some degree of responsibility. This simple premise leads to a wonderfully layered and complex script in which every character gets some development but John Simm really gets o shine as the white-hat wearing Sam. The end- where, after much agonising, Sam hands the tape to the superintendent who simply destroys it and covers up the whole thing- is a powerful reminder of how things were in 1973. 

It's nice, too, how the initial rush towards a cover-up by Gene is later shown to have been something more nuanced. And at least Ray faces some kind of consequence for his actions. Inevitably, we have to finish the episode with a reset button- Ray's demotion notwithstanding- but the fact this works without looking like a massive cop out shows us just how good this script is.

More Chibnall please. On the evidence of this he's better than the showrunners.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 6

 "I'm the negotiator."

"I'll make you a hat."

Ok, the premise behind this episode may be somewhat trite- Sam’s life support machine is to be switched off at 2pm, and in 1973 there’s a parallel hostage situation where a hostage is to be killed at 2pm. It’s a little near, and this episode isn’t one of the ones that will stand out. But it’s a strong hour of telly nonetheless.

The hostage situation is full of excellent tension and drama, with an interesting villain whose motive is interesting, nuanced and nicely ambiguous with a bit of misdirection. It’s a nice touch that the hostages are local journalists, one of whom has lambasted Gene in the past. It’s a premise that would work even without the time travel conceit but, despite this, relies as ever on the contrasting methods of Sam and Gene.

Sam is well-versed in hostage negotiation tactics. Gene just wants to turn up the heating so the hostage taker can open a window and get shot. This provides most of the fun throughout the whole thing, although by now it’s clear the two of them have a grudging mutual respect.

It’s a good if not stand-out bit of telly, raised to a higher level, as ever, by John Simm.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 5

 "What if me uncle had tits? Would he be me auntie?"

This episode is all about football, and the romanticisation of its fandom in the era before hooliganism, which we see emerging here. It says a lot about this episode that, since the 2010 World Cup, I’ve had zero interest in football, but this episode had me gripped.

Again, the weirdness and time travel isn’t foregrounded here except as a means to examine 1973 from a modern perspective, although the Test Card Girl again has a nice little cameo. And again we see Sam bond further with Gene and the rest of the gang who aren’t Ray. We seem to have almost hit on a formula where Sam, with his methodical approach, has a theory and Gene has his own more old-school approach, and there’s a jovial rivalry between them until Sam is proved right. It works well, especially as the episode works very well indeed as a whodunit.

Sam finally gets the caution right when arresting someone- at last. Someone gets arrested for cattle rustling. And it is, of course, fun to see the gang running a pub, although I’m reminded very much of why I try to avoid football pubs even today. 

The final angry speech Sam makes to the killer, who thinks football is all about violence (“You know nothing about football!”) is superb, and his relationship with the sin of the murdered man is a nice touch, as are the scenes of City and United fans walking to the match together. It’s a nicely crafted hour of telly even if, again, a little less deep and mysterious these days than it was at the time

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 4

“Others have tried to wear the white hat. And all have failed."

This is a frustrating episode- a well-crafted, well-acted hour of telly that examines, rather successfully, the ethics of police taking bribes and allowing Kray-like big men to hold sway over a community in return for an orderly neighbourhood. And yet there's one big, fatal flaw that stops me from saying this is the best episode so far and, indeed, leaves a rather nasty taste in the mouth.

The use of Sam's mother- in both time zones- and the peek into his childhood is a very nice touch here. Again, the weirdness, and the mystery of what's going on, is kept in the background and mainly part of an involuntary LSD trip. The Test Card Girl only gets a brief appearance. And I love the '70s pop culture nods, with Marc Bolan and a very '70s club.

There's some nice character development, as Sam and Annie are established as platonic while Gene begins to develop a little more respect for Sam as the reason for bringing down Stephen Warren; the "I thought you's never ask" conversation is well done, almost working as sleight of hand to hide the suddenness of Gene's conversion. Sam's essential white knight nature is established, a kind of Mancunian Philip Marlowe who always acts with integrity in a bad world, even if he needs loads of alcohol to do it.

It's all very neatly plotted, with the situation being established, the honey trap, the murder of Joni, and the resolution, all focused on Sam's ethical beliefs. The script does a good job of allowing Gene to be just complicit enough but decent enough to redeem himself; the bit of his backstoty we hear is a very nice touch, even if the stream of homophobic epithets he uses to describe Warren, even if meant to contrast then and now, probably wouldn't fly in 2020 as easily as in 2006. The whole episode is admirably done. Except for one thing.

Joni rapes Sam.

At no point does the script (or perormances) accept that this is what happens, yet she literally drugs him and has sex with him after he's explicitly told her he doesn't consent. The fact that she's a woman and he's a man are irrelevant. It's rape, so it's uncomfortable to see it played for laughs, or Annie blaming him. Of course, this all takes place in a wider context of deep misogyny, and Joni probably has little choice here, indirectly being sexually abused by Warren. But she rapes him, and there's nothing feminist whatsoever in acting as though any person can't rape any other person.

The way the script completely fails to acknowledge that Sam has been raped leaves a very nasty scar on what would otherwise have been an excellent episode. It's a shame.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 3

“You are surrounded by armed bastards!”

Perhaps this episode sees the series settling more to the point where we can talk about episodes of the week; there’s stuff about Sam losing the will to live in 2006, there’s even another appearance from the test card girl- does she represent the easy temptations of death?- but this time, despite the fact the factory killing takes place in what will one day be Sam’s flat, the focus is on the 1973 plot, not the meta-narrative.

Essentially this is a clever whodunit with a nice twist, set in an old-fashioned factory full of looms against a backdrop of the ongoing death of this kind of industry and the abyss that is about to open up in front of all these men, and their families, when it goes. Even six years before Thatcher the old-fashioned industries are dying and there’s a very hard transition into whatever comes next. There’s a fair bit of subtle social commentary here, too- on militant unions, on the cowed immigrant workforce.

But the episode is shaped, as ever, on the contest between Gene’s gut instincts (“first one to speak did it”) and Sam’s forensics, which this time we see in rather more detail and, in the end, successfully. Sam also seems to become more accepted within the team- not quite being on their level but offering something different and useful- and sharing with them all that most 1970’s of drinks, a Watney’s Party Seven.

Again, this isn’t necessarily Edge of Darkness, and perhaps it’s not quite so conceptually clever as it seemed in 2006, but this is solidly entertaining and quality telly.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 2

“I’ve never fitted anyone up who hasn’t deserved it!”

This is a clever second episode, our first “story of the week”, perhaps, and centred around a big difference between Sam and Gene, this time around the fitting up of suspects in the days before the 1984 reforms. But it’s also subtly the episode where Sam and Gene bond after an initial massive clash, something which had to happen, and a couple of other subtle character nuances- establishing Sam’s Blackadder-Baldrick relationship with Chris, and that Ray hates him. And there’s also lots of ‘70s flavour, not least with the white dog shite.

We also have the first outing from the vaguely average title sequence, and more hints that Sam is imagining this from his hospital bed- the blackout sequence at the end is very well done, and the way the creepy Test Card Girl comes from out of the telly is deeply effective.

But the story of the week- nailing a dangerous bank robber properly, with evidence and not fitting up- is also handled very well indeed. It’s a nicely structured plot, with Sam’s principles letting June get shot but Gene, Ray and Chris almost letting Annie and a witness get killed. It’s a much-needed episode giving a bit of depth and reality to the Sam/Gene relationship as well as fleshing our Gene a little to make him less of a grotesque and more of a person. These two- Sam and Gene- are fascinating to look at from the perspective of 2020 with all this culture war nonsense: Sam, sensible chap, would have voted Remain while you just know Gene would be one of them Leavers. It’s seemingly that age old clash between people who are liberal and people who are wrong, absurd oversimplification that is... but Gene, like many of the other side, is someone you just can’t dislike.

A strong episode and perhaps, in story and character terms, better than the first. I’m very much enjoying this.

Life on Mars: Season 1, Episode 1

"I need my mobile."

"Your mobile what?"

I thought, given the recent news about a new series, that I may as well just marathon Life on Mars- which I saw on the telly when it was broadcast- and Ashes to Ashes, of which I've only seen the first episode.

It's an impressive first episode, every bit as good as I remembered, and nicely establishng the show's central conceit- DCI Sam Tyler finds himself hit by a car and either in a coma or back in 1973- while introducing a load of compelling characters and, no easy feat, getting us to like them. John Simm and Philip Glenister are both superb from the beginning, in very different parts. It's amusing, given that the show relies heavily on the contrast betwee the present day of 2006 and the past of three decades earlier, that the last fourteen years have really dated the 2006 sequences- the eponymous Bowie track is playing on an iPod.

I think, though, that while the characters are well-drawn and the script is highly quotable, we are perhaps stretchng credulity a little as DCI Hunt and the rest of the 1973 gang give a little too much credence and leeway to this nutter claiming to be from the future. But there's enough sleight of hand to get away with it, and it's all nicely smoothed over with truly phenomenal, auteur-like direction from Bharat Nalluri. He really shines here, and is arguably as much of an authorial voice as the writer Matthew Graham. The dreamlike sequence where Sam first wakes up in 1973, and the panorama round the 1973 street, stand out in particular as brilliantly done, but the camerawork is masterly throughout.

Overall it's a superb conceit with plenty of potential- the casual sexism and pre-1984 policing methods are very much highlighted here in setting up the ongoing comedy of manners but, interestingly, Gene Hunt is allowed to end the episode with a moral victory on behalf of the old school methods. Perhaps it remains to be seen how the series fares with a less amazing director, and part of me suspects this is more of a pop culture 1973 than a real 1973 (surely we'd see more internal decor from the late '60s, for example?), but perhaps that's not necessarily a flaw.

Fourteen years on it's clear that this isn't quite up there with the very best telly, but there's nothing wrong with that. Life on Mars is big, brash and fun. I'm sure I'll enjoy it again this time round.

Doctor Who: The Doctor Falls

"Is it wrong that I..."

"Yes, very!"

Wow. That was an emotional rollercoaster and no mistake, and probably the best Doctor Who season finale since the institution started back in 2005. It's also an episode chick full of fan lore, Moffatisms and, well, stuff. There's a lot to talk about.

We begin with a typically Moffat pre-titles with fields, skies, farmhouses and horse-driven carts all inside the same spaceship (a Moffat trope right from The Time of Angels), and the terrifying spectacle of partly cybernised people being used as scarecrows. The Doctor, Nardole the Master and Missy share a few witticisms before they, and Cyberman Bill, end up together in the farmhouse where the two Masters exchange some glorious dialogue in some truly joyous scenes while Bill (shown as she sees herself) comes to terms with the awful body horror of what she has become. These two sequences showcase two separate types of superlative writing prowess from the Moff.

There's a superb reason why they can't all return to the TARDIS- time dilation; if they travel the full 4,000 miles then the Cybermen will have had millennia to prepare, so there's nothing for it but to sit and wait for the inevitable assault, and for the Doctor to be heroic for the sake of it- "without hope, without witness, without reward." The Doctor gets another one of those magnificent soliloquies that Peter Capaldi first showed himself to be so good at with The Zygon Inversion, and it's interesting to see that the Master doesn't care but Missy is, at least, equivocal.

So the Doctor and Bill, who knows her humanity is slowly being eroded and doesn't want to live without being her (there's a thought, and a horribly modern one- Cybermen as a metaphor for dementia), agree to the suicide mission of staying behind to blow up with the Cybermen while Nardole gets everyone away to survive for a while until the next attack.

The Masters get a delightfully mad ending as Missy fatally stabs the Master with a hug and he shoots her after she reveals she's off to join the Doctor. The Master is off to his TARDIS to regenerate; she is apparently too dead to regenerate, as some ways of being killed, apparently, just arbitrarily do that. This is fooling no one, of course; the Master's been deader than this. (S)he'll be back.

So we come to the Doctor- also fatally wounded, although we saw a flicker of regeneration energy even earlier- and Bill in their last stand against the Cybermen, some of whom, disappointingly, have "evolved" to be more modern like and use the existing costumes. But we get a moment of pure fanwank as the Doctor names "Telos, Voga, Planet 14". There's also an earlier bit of retcon that makes me uncomfortable while we're on the subject of fanwank; the Doctor seems to say that the Cybermen arose independently on "Mondas, Telos, Earth, Planet 14" and, yes, Marinus, in a bizarre and gloriously fanwanky reference to the DWM comic strip The World Shapers, penned by Grant Morrison, no less. Not sure I like this suggestion that not all Cybermen are fundamentally Mondasian, and the idea seems to contradict dialogue in Tomb of the Cybermen anyway.

Still, Cyberman Bill dies and... Bill still exists, because of some clever and retrospectively well-seeded long term plot cleverness from way back in The Pilot meaning Bill gets to be herself again and travel the universe in a puddle with the girl she loves. It's clever, it's superbly written, it made Mrs Llamastrangler and me cry and it's essentially brilliant. But, well, it feels like a cop out. After Clara this is twice in a row that Moffat has stepped back from properly killing off a companion at the last minute and it feels like a lack of bravery. Perhaps I'm being unfair; it's still rather brilliant, and would probably feel different if it wasn't for Clara, not to mention that a companion dying would have overshadowed a busy episode. Nonetheless, there's a slight feeling of cop out.

And so we come to what all the signs are telling us is a regeneration; the Doctor recites his predecessors' last lines, he's lying in the TARDIS as he was at the end of The Tenth Planet, the Cloister Bell is sounding. And yet the Doctor is resisting regeneration through sheer willpower and has, I suspect, been doing so for quite some time. And then Moffat throws a curveball as (in the Doctor's head?) the bloody first Doctor appears, played by David Bradley. This is, to put it mildly, hugely exciting, and may indicate that the Christmas Special may be a leisurely examination of the concept of regeneration, i.e. mortality, casting the Doctor as a kind of Scrooge figure? Whatever, I can't wait.

And yes, I know I have a couple of little criticisms, but they in no way detract from the sheer brilliance and genius of one of Moffat's finest pieces of writing. Yes, like all prolific writers he has his tropes, but that's a strength, not a weakness. Steven Moffat is right up there with Whittaker, Holmes and Davies as one of the finest writers ever to grace this programme.

Doctor Who: World Enough and Time

"Hello. I'm Doctor Who."

Wow. Not sure what the Andrew Marvell quote has with anything, and I did English at uni, but this episode is extraordinary from the initial teasing (apparent) regeneration sequence, with us knowing full well that Peter Capaldi is around until Christmas, to the final, utterly wrenching body horror of our discovery that Bill has been turned fully into a Tenth Planet Cyberman.

The episode starts, though, with a few minutes of fantastic dialogue between a TARDIS crew that has never had such chemistry, and the addition of a seemingly reformed but utterly magnificent Missy is the icing on the cake. Her dialogue is witty, metatextual and glorious. But then the storytelling is equally and non-linearly magnificent as the Doctor tests out Missy's Doctoring skills with a distress call from a 400 mile long ship falling into a black hole, where time passes more slowly at one end of the ship than the other. We get alot of necessary exposition, Bill fulfilling the companion's narrative role here, as the Doctor explains his history with Missy in flashback, Bill gets shot, and... for those of us who've listened to some Big Finish, it all goes very Spare Parts, in the best way possible.

This is, of course, revealed to be a Mondasian ship, and the (ahem) genesis of the Cybermen, as it's very nicely put by John Simm's Master, superbly revealed after having played a friendly character in prosthetics all episode long without fooling me. It's all done quite brilliantly, and John Simm's Master looks positively Delgado for the first multi-Master story. The implausibility of Mondas being Earth's twin planet is nicely glossed over too. Thi is an episode to truly remind us of Steven Moffat's considerable talents.

All this and we get Venusian Aikido too. We're being spoiled. This is, and I know I keep saying it, extraordinary even by the very high standards of what we can surely start calling the best season since Season 27.

The Devil's Whore: Episode 4

"I took a husband from you."

"You took two."

Suddenly, from a series which has been exploring the heritage of the British Left from the Civil War origins of the Tory/Whig divide, we get what seems to be contemporary political commentary. Lilburne's final days in his Jerseyan Guantanamo may be straight out of the history books, but they have deep contemporary relevance for a drama made in the first decade of the twenty-first century. Cromwell, in choosing rendition over what were, even in 1654, the proper constitutional procedures, begins to look very much like a Blair figure, perhaps even a Bush the Younger, the type who would support ninety day detention and identity cards. His later debate with Angelica over security versus liberty makes this clear, and Lilburne's tragic last few years make it clear that power does not lie with us civil libertarians.

Interesting, then, that all this should be juxtaposed with Cromwell's dismissing of the Rump Parliament, with the prospect of his declaring himself King, and with an angry Sexby, fresh from shooting Percy through the head, confronting him over the circumstances of Rainsborough's death. If Cromwell is Blair here then the comparison is not a flattering one. But then, everyone on the British left considers Blair to be a cuckoo in the Labour nest. Indeed, even we on the non-Orange Booker, Guardian-reading, Coalition-opposing wing of the Lib Dems think of him as a true small "c" conservative, although no Tory. This is also an apt description of the historical Cromwell.

It's nice that, the night before Sexby meets his doom in failing to assassinate Cromwell, he and Angelica should have what the director makes very clear is good, meaningful, loving sex, sex which ultimately results in the birth of a daughter. 

History takes it's course, and a caption informs us of Cromwell's death and the Restoration. There is a happy ending, of sorts, as Angelica's young daughter sees no devil in the tree.

This is a brilliant, brilliant, unappreciated series, and you must go and watch it immediately. Please. It's really rather good.

The Devil's Whore: Episode 3

"We begin again..."

It's very neat, the parallel between the trials of Angelica and the king, both sentenced to die on the same day. Angelica languishes in a miserable cell, giving birth there, jeered at and humiliated over her last few days, with only the Lilburnes for friends, and dies painfully, with the cruel jeers of Percy ringing in her ears. Except she doesn't, because Sexby has replaced the hangman and her death is faked, if still bloody painful.

Charles actually dies. His humiliations are of a lesser type, though significant for a king; he has to pick up the ball from the top of his cane himself when it falls to the floor. Capaldi is amazing here, showing us both the King's arrogance and his vulnerability. His trial is equally unfair, but he, too, has the ironic support of John Lilburne, who will not compromise in matters of justice and gets himself arrested yet again.

Also unjust is Cromwell's behaviour in Ireland, which is more reminiscent of the Thirty Years War than the comparatively civilised conflict in England. Sexby receives advancement, being made a colonel, but the moral compromises he has to make are appalling. He betrays the soldiers under his command, who are hanged by Cromwell although he had assured then they would not be, and in Ireland he is certainly guilty of war crimes.  The plebeian philosopher at last dips his hands in the blood. (Although, of course,he has fought as a mercenary in the Thirty Years War himself; his hands can hardly have been clean in the first place.)

He's not good enough for Angelica, though, as she refuses his proposal of marriage. She may be increasingly radical, but Sexby would still be a match well below her station. Her eventual reluctant acceptance is a defeat for her.

As Sexby bloodied his hands further across the Irish Sea, Angelica continues her journey into radicalism by joining the radical, stoic and bonkers Diggers sect. She is attracted to their lifestyle but alienated by their creepily conformist religiosity, adhering to a vague, hippyish spiritualism. She is finally cast out of this egalitarian paradise, but not before asking why, if all are equal, do women toil in the fields all day and then cook for their children at night?

The most fun part of the episode is, of course, Lilburne's trial and speech, and his triumphant acquittal. But the last few minutes are far from fun; a damaged Sexby arrives back from Ireland and all but rapes his new wife, and then abandons her. And, worse, the ex-Digger with whom Angelica has now shackled up turns out to be an underling of Percy's...

This continues to be superb. It works as melodrama, with dramatic reversals of fortune, but this also serves to parallel with the experiences of the great and good, and to illustrate history, or rather a particular slant of history that seeks to explore the heritage of the British Left and present things, quite deliberately and fairly, a little anachronistically. All history, after all, exists only in relation to the present.