The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Nightmare Man

Part One

“It’s all my fault!”

So, we still have the spiel at the start, narrated by Clyde. It’s different, though, with different footage. A whole new series. The Marathon may be over, but the post-Marathon starts here!

This is the first episode of The Sarah Jane Adventures I’ve seen since… you know. This was only on telly last autumn, and Lis is fantastic as always. I think it’s going to feel quite unreal for some time. I haven’t seen any of this series before; it’s all going to be a genuine surprise.

The beginning, with its “keep watching” and Luke speaking into a camera, is very metatextual. Surprising to see something like this in the Whoniverse’s show aimed particularly at kids, but Joseph Lidster’s script is fantastic, and very, very adult in the best possible way. It’s all a bit scary, even a bit Ghostwatch, for kids, I would have thought. But this is superb.

We start a year earlier than the main narrative- has a year passed, or did this happen a year ago? Whatever, Luke is taking his A levels a year early, and he got four A*’s. Lucky git. We never had A*’s in my day. Still, I only got four B’s and a D, and one of the B’s was General Studies, so I suppose I’m just not clever like what he is.

This all feels very real- University (Oxford, no less!) approaches, and the pace of change is all too much for Luke’s seventeen year old mind. This is quite close to home for me; I had the only depressive episode in my life aged seventeen and eighteen at the sheer conveyor-belt inevitability of A Levels, University, and so on. I ended up dropping out of uni until I was twenty-three and all grown-up. Luke’s a lot more sensible than I was, though, and I’m sure he smokes rather less weed than I did back then. Still, there’s sensible and there’s sensible. I think going to bed at 10.37pm is a bit much, frankly.

Luke’s nightmare sequences are brilliant, and tell us so much about his fears and insecurities- will his friends forget him? Will his mother abandon him? This is so very well-written and performed, and highly appropriate fare for teenagers, although I would have thought the target audience to be younger.

There’s a very tangible sense of melancholy at Luke’s current life ending, and what will feel at first like an end for his friendships. I love the party. Intriguing to see Luke apparently setting up Rani and Clyde- should I be watching this space?

The moment we finally get a glimpse of the Nightmare Man is eerie and effective. Yes, I know it’s only clown make-up(ish), and we’ve had clowns before. But it works. And the concept of Luke’s next nightmare giving life to the Nightmare Man and dooming the world is well scary. This is quite a cliffhanger…


Part Two

“I need a USB lead, Sarah Jane.”

Interesting to see the nightmares of Rani and Clyde. Rani’s has Doon Mackichan in it (yay!) but plays on her fears and ambitions surrounding journalism as she’s forced to co-present a programme exposing Sarah Jane. Interesting that the comments of the Evil Newsreader, that Sarah Jane is putting children in danger, are quite accurate! Clyde, meanwhile, is stuck in a dead end job, mocked by an elderly Sarah Jane. Both dreams say a lot about the characters.

Elisabeth Sladen is utterly superb as an elderly version of herself. Roles like this really give her a chance to show her range. It’s… weird to see her playing a role like this at the moment, of course.

There was a laugh out loud moment for me at the bit where Clyde exclaims “This isn’t a real burger bar. There aren’t real burgers. And you- you’re not the real Sarah Jane.” The Android Invasion, anyone? I love little bits like this.

The ending is satisfying and makes sense, and also wraps up the B-plot of Luke’s nerves at going to uni. But off to uni he is. And he’s taking K-9 with him...

This is superb. Possibly the best thing on SJA so far.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Mad Woman in the Attic

Part One

“…Inquisitive?”

“I remember being that.”

Unusual beginning for SJA; we don’t usually get this sort of mildly complex timey-wimey plots, presumably because of worries about whether the young audience would be able to follow it. Personally I don’t see the problem; when I was a very young kid I never really understood the plot of anything but I enjoyed watching television drama anyway. So it’s good to see something like this being attempted, even though it wouldn’t pass as being in any way complex for the other two shows. Interesting how Joseph Lidster, both in SJA and in Torchwood, seems to be getting himself a reputation for framing his narratives with interesting devices. Personally, I like it.

Initially, what with the early scenes being weighted heavily in favour of the older Rani and the future Luke-a-like, it seems this might be a sort of everyone-lite story. But it turns out it isn’t, and it’s a nicely Rani-centric tale of a kind we haven’t really seen before. Most importantly, though, we get more information on the legendary Zodin! “It’s stripy and… they’re odd”, apparently.

Things get very creepy very quickly, though. Abandoned fairgrounds, fixed smiles and forced jollity are genuinely terrifying to me! This may be a cheap episode, but that doesn’t stop it being the most terrifying episode yet. Perhaps it’s just me and my idiosyncratic fears but… isn’t this even a bit too scary for the kids?

Nice episode, with just enough plot revealed to keep us guessing.



Part Two

“Playtime is over.”

Ooh, loads of clips! And some from Doctor Who! In the Seventies! Hope they flog a few DVDs from this. Doesn’t she look young? There’s also some of Sarah Jane’s future… and the TARDIS! Ooh…!

More good stuff happens here. The ghost train is nice and scary, and Rani’s outburst at the others is an interesting first. And the resolution is satisfying; Eve is just a child, the Ship is trying to look after her, and Harry is just a red herring after all. In fact, there are no baddies in the story at all. And K-9 is back. Yay! I look forward to seeing more of this slightly amusing rivalry between him and Mr Smith.

Yes, it’s a little trite and predictable that Sarah Jane should forgive Rani for blabbing everything to Sam, just as she forgave Clyde for blabbing to his dad. And the framing device is resolved a little too easily, perhaps. But this is a very successful attempt at a quieter type of story, and I think it works. 4/5.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Mark of the Berserker

Part One

“Guess it’ll be a quiet weekend, then.”

It’s only at the start of this episode that I’m realising that there are actually quite a few regular guest actors playing the same teachers and kids episode to episode. (Although they didn’t have many lines to learn for this particular pre-credits sequence!) Still, I’m a bit slow. Anyway… a big part of why my Marathon went on such a massive hiatus was that I just wasn’t that enthused about another season of The Sarah Jane Adventures. But this story has proved me wrong. This is a cracker of a script from Joseph Lidster, and easily the best story yet.

We establish early on that this is our first Sarah Jane-lite story, which is no bad thing here, as unlike in Doctor Who we have an ensemble cast. All of the other regulars get some nice development here- Clyde, obviously, but also Rani and Luke. Even the little touches- Clyde’s drawings, Rani’s relationship with her not-so-scary-when-off-duty-and-actually-a-nice-bloke dad- all add something. This is a script which gets the nuts and bolts right. And even the story’s MacGuffin, the One Ring… er, pendant, is at root just an excuse for doing character stuff as with Ghost Machine for Torchwood. Which is cool.

We get a nice demonstration of the seductive nastiness of said MacGuffin in the scene where Rani realises she can make Haresh do exactly as she says, which is at first funny but then becomes creepy. Rani, being no Smeagol, immediately does the right thing and takes it to Sarah Jane’s attic where it should be safe. (I love Mr Smith’s answerphone message, incidentally.) Unfortunately, this being an adventure drama and all, that’s not going to happen.

We get to meet Clyde’s mum, Carla. Amusingly, it’s implied that Sarah Jane finds her quite boring to talk to! But we establish quite quickly and economically that she and Clyde have a healthy, normal and very realistic relationship. Which, of course, is very quickly shattered by the arrival of Clyde’s unpleasant father, Paul, played by That Bloke Off Of Eastenders. It’s made clear that Paul simply abandoned his wife and son to run off to Germany with another woman, and that he’s taken no interest in Clyde since, or in the serious consequences of what he’s done. This forms the context for the subtext of pretty much everything that happens from this point onwards, which is very good writing.

The chat between Clyde and Paul on the swings is also brilliant and full of meaning. Clyde simultaneously resents his father for abandoning him but also longs to have his father back, and is driven to show his father about his secret alien-fighting lifestyle. It’s clear things are not going to work out well as soon as Paul, having been shown Sarah Jane’s attic, comments that “You could make a fortune on eBay.” Clyde gets what he wanted: his dad says he’s proud of him. But Paul, a Smeagol if ever there was one, steals the One Ring. And the ending, with what he does to Haresh, and making Clyde forget his own friends, is very, very dark.



Part Two

“You know what to do.”

I like this glimpse we get, Shaun of the Dead style, of this exciting other adventure Sarah Jane is having in the hospital with that cheap-looking alien slug. Of course, phones must always be switched off in hospitals; she’s incommunicado. So what Luke and Rani do, which is really rather cool, is to get in touch with Maria and Alan in Washington DC. Yay! And Alan is almost as good a hacker as Mickey is, which is highly convenient.

Paul has now crossed a line and started doing some Really Morally Dodgy Stuff. He steals- yes, steals- a car and assorted other items, and is clearly metamorphosing from a Smeagol to a Gollum. Plus, Haresh is still doing press-ups. This isn’t very realistic, really; no one is that fit, and the consequences would probably be quite nasty and permanent. Still, dramatically, it works.

The rest of this excellent episode is taken up with a car chase to Mordor- er, the marina- and some nice father and son dialogue. Paul crosses yet another line after this episode’s heart to heart with Clyde as he finds an easy answer to evade the consequences of his actions by just making Clyde forget the things he’s done wrong. Even more unforgivably, he then makes Clyde forget his own mother.

The climax, with Paul in full-on Gollum mode, threatening to order the whole world about, but here’s Sarah Jane to save the day. It’s a nice and satisfying ending, and it’s nice that Sarah Jane just trusts Clyde to do what needs to be done and throw the One Ring into Mount Doom. One thing troubles me, though; he uses the ring to make his mother forget what’s happened. There should really be consequences.

The final scene is lovely; Sarah Jane forgives Clyde as she would have done the same. And we get more mentions of the disappearance of Sarah Jane’s parents back when she was a nipper. Could this be leading to something?

Wonderful stuff. Admittedly, the story suffers from the lovely Gita not being in it (I’ve got a bit of a crush on Mina Anwar), but this is very good indeed. 5/5.

Torchwood: Something Borrowed

“By day you’re chasing the scum of the universe. Come midnight, you’re the wedding fairy…”

Of all the weeks to watch this one…!

It occurs to me before watching this that there’s something quite clever in making sure that the previous story features a wedding ruined by the death of the groom. Let’s face it: there are all sorts of tropes and genre conventions indicating Rhys should be dead meat. And the similarities between this series and Angel remind me that Joss Whedon would have definitely killed him off. So it’s not only nice, but a genuine twist, that it doesn’t happen.

I’ll be honest; I didn’t really get the humour in this episode. It’s not necessarily that it’s a farce; I’m not exactly the world’s biggest fan of them but I liked The Romans. Then again I don’t exactly have a wide frame of reference when it comes to farces. No, I think it’s the mother-in-law jokes (even if they’re about Nerys Hughes) and seeing this kind of humour in a modern context for which put me off for some reason. I can accept farce in The Romans; that was made in 1965 and is now archive television. It doesn’t feel very Torchwood. Still, lots of individual moments were great, and Ianto gets some nice one-liners. Plus Jack gets his fashion sense critiqued by Rhys’ mum, and Rhys says a very naughty word.

There’s some good character stuff, too; I like the moments with Gwen and Tosh, alone with the wedding dress, unable to really connect with each other, as always. And still we’re being told that Gwen and Jack have a forbidden attraction to each other; it might actually be the shape shifter, but for a moment it looks as though Gwen is actually going to kiss Jack. And, gentleman that he is, it’s clear throughout that he’s jealous of Rhys. There’s always potential for this as a possible future love triangle. After all, the scene with Rhys’ chainsaw cutting out just before Jack shoots the alien dead with a Very Big Gun might be seen to symbolise something by those with dirty minds.

There are other good moments, of course: the shop assistant’s scepticism at Ianto buying a wedding dress for a “friend”; Owen dancing with Tosh to Paul Weller (aaah!); “That’s for calling my mother an ugly thing”. The final revelation that Jack was married long ago isn’t one of them, though; random revelations from Jack’s past are a much devalued currency by now. There’s no sense of any thought-out pattern to his history.

So, an amusing bit of fluff, little more. 3/5. Oh, and is it just me but is it only weddings in pop culture where you get asked if there’s any reason why the couple shouldn’t get married? I’ve been to a fair few weddings, and this never seems to happen in real life.

Torchwood: A Day in the Death

“I am literally too cool for school.”

I’ve never come across any of Joseph Lidster’s Big Finish work so this is the first work of his I’ve encountered, and it’s a damned impressive debut. After a short and almost perfunctory introductory few seconds of “Torchwood is ready” we move straight to Owen via a monologue and montage, showcasing the excellence of both writer and director.

To briefly cover the regulars who are not Owen, this episode sees a lot of mentions of Gwen’s now very imminent wedding, while she very capably seems to assume the mantle of leadership for large chunks of the “B” plot (concerning an energy spike from an item in a collection of alien artefacts kept by eccentric millionaire Henry Parker) and, interestingly, Jack lets her. I’m not sure whether this comes across as strength or weakness. Certainly, he makes a hash of things early on while relieving Owen of duty to have medical tests and make coffee(!)- surely he could have put that a bit more diplomatically and got a slightly less negative reaction.

Tosh gets a hard time this week, with an upset Owen saying some very hurtful things to her. And by now it’s clear that she really does love him, or thinks she does at any rate. Is this going to go anywhere in the long-term? Tosh hasn’t necessarily looked weak in earlier episodes which dealt with her apparently unrequited feelings for Owen, but there now seems to be a very real risk that she may do so. That would not be good.

But of course, this is all about Owen, and the episode is more or less dedicated to an almost poetic reflection on what has happened to him and the implications of what it does to a person. Particularly horrifying is the moment, after Owen (accidentally?) cuts his hand, when Martha makes it clear that neither this nor any other injury he suffers will ever heal again. Owen is, as he says, made of glass. Ageless, sexless, unable to eat, drink, or even feel Martha’s hand, he has continued existence but is unable to truly live; what, then, is there to live for? This is our main character theme, achieved through great dialogue and great direction. The episode is full of great little visual sequences and great little monologues which are quite staggeringly effective.

The episode’s framing device is great, too. Owen is narrating this to Maggie (only named, significantly, at the end when we know she won’t jump), about to commit suicide exactly one year after her husband died in a cruelly random car accident just an hour after they were married. She and Owen are both faced with the consequences that come from life’s random cruelties, and have to decide whether life is worth living.

But there’s a deeper theme, too; that we are all mortal, and that this makes us all mortal in the end. The whole episode pretty much functions as a memento mori; there’s a series of shots of Owen’s extremely luxurious apartment making it very clear that he’s a very wealthy man, but it all means nothing now. There’s a direct parallel here with our villain (well, sort of), Henry Parker (Richard Briers, this time without a toothbrush moustache). Parker is an old man who has experienced so much of life- fighting in the war, travelling, marrying, becoming widowed- and has made himself rich from his own efforts. But he is dying; like Owen, he finds that his power, status and material possessions mean nothing to him now. He is alone, as we all are in the end, afraid of death and the strange “darkness” of the Torchwood afterlife, which both is and isn’t oblivion. This is classic memento mori stuff; every time I watch it I’m reminded of lecturers banging on about Hans Holstein’s The Ambassadors.

Importantly, the episode never allows the bleakness to be undermined by a too life-affirming message; the message seems to be that life is mostly crap, but there’s also the odd bit of hope- that’s pretty much what Owen says to Maggie, and pretty much the message that the alien McGuffin of the week is there to symbolise. It gives false hope to Parker, who dies in spite of his clinging to the belief that it is keeping him alive, but real hope to both Maggie and Owen. There’s also a lot of this, I reckon, in Owen’s fantastic speech to the security guard.

A triumph of both writing and direction, and an acting masterclass from Burn Gorman, mean this gets an easy 5/5, and it goes straight into the chart at number two.