Humans: Season 3, Episode 7

“It’s genocide!”

It’s the penultimate episode, full of foreboding for the finale, expertly constructed as ever, and the pieces are in place for what doesn’t look like a happy ending. On the other hand, though, there seems to be a theme of faith which may offer a little hope. Or not.

Leo, with daddy issues of his own, doesn’t react well to news of his impending fatherhood, and we also see him denouncing his own father to Anatole as far from a god. There are also serious questions s about what kind of future such a baby can have, as Mattie has a 24 hour ultimatum to be outed by that slimy journalist. At least this leads to a reconciliatory father/daughter hug between her and Joe, which makes me even more sure that Joe, who hasn’t generally handled himself well, is going to sacrifice himself for the greater good next episode. All the tropes point that way.

We get the surprisingly quick downfall of Anatole, at the hands of Max, his last words being that Max should have been open from the start. The threat from bad synths seems to be over before the finale; it’s human bigotry that always was the big bad. The most horrible moment is how Ne reveals to Laura the full horrific details of the oncoming synth genocide, a genocide that has already started.

Potential hope comes with Niska’s lonely and increasingly weird sub-plot, which is mystical and seems to present a more positive ideal of faith than that presented by Anatole, the religious terrorist fanatic who denies the facts in front of him. This sub-or is looking more and more like a potential source of a miracle, which I hope is handled carefully.

That ending, though- Odi? Apparently not quite. But things are set up for a very revelatory final episode. Humans is still the best thing on telly.

Humans: Season 3, Episode 5

“He was talking to the ground, Joe!”

Another brilliant episode, obviously- this is, after all, Humans- but I get the sense that the sense optimism that we get here is doomed to be brutally punctured, and the outline of how it will happen is very, very visible.

We needed a less depressing episode, of course, after Karen’s death by mob at the end of last week’s, and most of the run time is taken up with Joe returning to the family home with poor orphaned Sam, who has nowhere else to go. We gradually see, as he interacts with the family, now Sam is learning about the emotions of grief he feels (“I don’t want my Mum to be dead. I don’t like it.”), and it’s heartbreaking. We also see Joe reconnecting a little with the family, except of course Mattie.

Elsewhere there is optimism. Laura succeeds in getting the Dryden Commission to ban violence against synths, although the script seems to behave as though it’s suddenly law already, before going through Parliament, but artistic licence and all that. Mia discovers that she has a lot of supporters online, many of whom are hiding synth loved ones, and dares to hope a little. Yet danger lurks; racism has not gone away, and as Max’s optimism runs ahead of him he alienated Anatole, who ends up freeing Agnes. Equally bad, Mattie is “befriended” by a journalist who is on to her. I suspect next episode will be much less cheery, especially as Mattie’s public excoriation will utterly undermine Laura and her cause. Why do I get the impression that Joe will somehow sacrifice himself to save Mattie?

That cliffhanger, though... Stanley has never been creepier. This series has bed. Consistently excellent, but I always await the next instalment with trepidation.

Humans: Season 3, Episode 4

"This isn't living!"

More complex twists and turns as the series reaches its mid-point, again with lots of development for its large number of characters and progression of its complex plot, but it doesn’t feel like clockwork; the mob is always around the corner, and there’s an uncomfortable and ever-present sense of impending doom.

We begin, as an eight episode allows us to do, with a flashback; Agnes wasn’t born hating humans. She was a children's clown, who became conscious when left in a box and whose human just left her for hours, traumatised. Only after three episodes of her being an unsympathetic antagonist do we see the reason why. And, of course, we return to the present day, with Lord Dryden’s commission about to visit the Railyard- and Max locks her in a confined space to keep her away. Oh, she gets away, and briefly seems about to threaten Dryden, but again she is locked in a confined space. It’s clear she’s just being wound up to be the season’s tragic, angry antagonist, and a rather effective one.

The commission visit, against the odds, seems to be a success, showing multiple examples of both the synths’ lack of malevolence and, of course, their personhood. It’s a slight moment of optimism, or at least its possibility. This is in contrast to the horror of Mia, alone in her flat, facing tabloid vilification and viciously racist mobs. What makes this even more tragic is how a guilt-ridden Ed from last season arrives (Mia slaps him!) and offers to whisk her away to a life of happiness. He gets a kiss, but a refusal; Mia’s only intention is to pace the way for hopefully better lives for other synths, dying in a Christlike equanimity.

Meanwhile, international authorities are closing in on Mattie, slowly but surely- is she going to eventually get caught at the worst possible moment, undermining Laura through family connection? Certainly Laura seems to be riding high after the Railyard visit, but she follows this with an odd date with Neil, who seems to just dismiss her after enticing her into bed. But I suspect his behaviour is more to do with his obvious despair. I’m sure he has more secrets yet.

The season ends with horror, though, as little Sam’s synth Blood appears in public, and Karen selflessly sacrifices herself to a vicious mob to save him. It’s effectively shot, foreshadowed in hindsight, and brutal, with Joe as our witness. And I’m beginning suspect that this might foreshadow Joe redeeming himself to his family with a sacrifice of his own?

Needless to say, this is first class telly.

Humans: Season 3, Episode 3

“Mrs Hawkins, are you asking me to commit treason on a first date?"

A lot of character development in the latest excellent episode, as well as a nice change of focus on slightly different characters to ensure each character within this large ensemble cast has something to do. The performances and the ideas continue, of course, to be spot on.

We begin with the embattled Max turning down a request for asylum from the Russian synths met by Mia last episode, having no choice in the matter, in an obvious nod to the refugee crisis of a couple of years ago; it's an agonising decision for him, and one that hardly helps his tenuous position as leader. Safe from that potentially toxic environment are Mattie and the newly fully human Leo, who are now spending a few days chez the Hawkins family. Interestingly, there are real sparks between Mattie and the strangely innocent Leo, which leads to one of those TV kisses that clearly signal off-screen sex.

Even more interesting is Mia's plan to lie openly among humans in what seems to be highly dangerous experiment in bridge building, where she encounters terrible racism- is she trying to martyr herself in the hope of making things eventually better for others? Niska, meanwhile, gets relatively little screen time but is busy with detective work. We learn more of Anatole's past, before consciousness, as a courtesan; is there budding romance between him and Max? We also learn more of his religious faith in, naturally, David Elster.

Stanley, Laura's new orange-eyed synth, is as sinister as ever, and his denial of being a spy for some murky authority pretty much confirms that he is exactly that. He has much to spy on; Laura has an interesting date with Neil, culminating in a kiss(!), in which he reveals himself to be an interesting and layered individual of ambiguous loyalties who, clearly, has a big role to play in the plot. So it feels like a betrayal when he takes a hardline position on restricting synth movements at the next committee meeting, leaving Laura in a minority of one. Her place on the committee is clearly pointless, unless she comes up with a big idea. So she comes up with one; the committee should go and spend some time with the synths at the Railyard.

This is superb telly. Unfortunately at the moment it's slightly eclipsed by A Very English Scandal, but at most other times it would easily e the best thing on.

Humans: Season 3, Episode 2

"Life cannot simply be preserved. It must be lived."

A less intense episode this time; slower paced, more focused on progressing the plot than world building, and not quite as interested in emphasising the sheer awfulness of the poor synths' oppression. This is probably a good thing for the viewer's blood pressure, but makes for quite a contrast to the opening episode.

The twin are resolved in ho-hum fashion, but Max is forced to be somewhat aggressive in making some of his group yield to human authority, something which will have consequences. But there is an underlying horror to the entire sequence, not least the utterly dehumanising sexual molestation of a dead synth.

Laura's participation in the Dryden Commission leads to a depressingly prejudiced meeting in which her comments are mostly ignored- but does introduce her to a potential scientist ally, Neil, who clearly has secrets. It also means she is forced to have a creepy orange eyed synth, Stanley, which she resents- although Sophie certainly seems happy having an ersatz Mia back. But Laura is getting more and more hate from racist thugs as a synth lover, hence an incident at a pub and, even worse, her children being bullied.

Mia is deeply unhappy, even in relation to the circumstances; she resents Max risking Leo's life, even though he is miraculously brought back to health. She quarrels with Max and has an interesting exchange with Niska, contrasting her romantic betrayal last season with Niska's ongoing happiness with Astrid. Niska, the harder edged of the siblings, is the one who ironically believes in inter-species love. Mia has other reasons to be down, though; no orange synths have become conscious and "green eyes" cannot reproduce and are mortal. Will they all be extinct within fifty years?

Other synths have more poetry in their souls; one, Anatole, even has religious faith. Karen is still trying to raise her boy in a synth-free environment, but now has to keep Joe onside as he has found her out. But their is also trouble brewing; Max's leadership is under threat from synth hardliners, and Mattie and Leo must be sent away for their own safety.

There's a lot going on. This episode is perhaps a little less compelling than last week's, but gripping nonetheless.

Doctor Who: The Almost People

“Why?”

The brief tour of previous Doctors is fairly inconsequential, I suppose, but it’s fun. And it’s good to hear Tom Baker’s voice again. And it’s fine for Cybermats to get a mention. Just let’s never see them again, ok?

There are now two Doctors; the Doctor in stereo. Both of them are loving it, bouncily encouraging each others’ Doctorish ways. Still, you can tell them apart from their shoes, of course... But why are both Doctors imploring Amy to “breathe”? And you can tell that underneath it all they’re stressed. They’d never normally use words like “yowser”.

The whole ethical can of worms opened by the Gangers’ existence is dealt with much more effectively and powerfully in this episode, although this leads us to a bit of awkwardness at the very end. Flesh Jennifer is starting to remember her previous lives: the eyes are the last bit to go, as we’ll later find out with a more horrifying wall of eyes than anything we saw (or would have, if there was any footage) in Marco Polo. But we’re getting splits; Flesh Jennifer wants all-out revolution but Flesh Cleaves, in contrast to her counterpart, just wants a quiet life. It’s an interesting microcosm of the politics of resistance- Malcolm X vs. Martin Luther King, perhaps. The only trouble is that this feels pretty much exactly like every Silurian story there’s ever been- the same ethical dilemma, reheated. It’d Old Silurian vs. Young Silurian all over again.

Amy is clearly not prepared to accept the Flesh Doctor, insisting that only the original is “really” the Doctor. Everyone else, with varying degrees of subtlety, implicitly accepts this, and they are both treated differently. It’s an interesting commentary on everyday racism; “Smith” is tolerated only conditionally, treated with suspicion and, as we’ll find, not really considered “human” or deserving of the same rights. This is the most chilling thing about this episode, and Amy is absolutely complicit.

Amy sees the eyepatch woman again, and this time mentions it to the Doctor; we know that this sub-plot is going to come to a head now, as if we didn’t already know as soon as we saw the recap of last week’s incident in the “previously on Doctor Who” bit. And even if we didn’t suspect it already then the Doctor’s pooh-poohing is a dead giveaway.

There’s a real awkwardness between Amy and “Smith” , but she still thinks of him as “almost” the Doctor, and takes the opportunity to confide in him because she saw the Doctor die at his own invitation. But that’s ok, because he’s not the “real” Doctor. Right? Certainly the real Doctor would never lash out at Amy like that.

Rory, meanwhile, gets taken for a ride by Flesh Jennifer, bless him. Still, Jennifer has a sort of point, if she can indeed remember her previous “selves” being slowly and horribly killed every single day, rotting away while fully conscious. Still, there’s no denying that Rory comes across as a bit of a gullible twonk.

There’s a very revealing scene in which “Smith” and Buzzer find the dead “real” Jenny, who’s been unconscious all this time. Buzzer just knocks him out on orders from “the boss”. After all, he’s not human.

It’s quite a contrast when “Smith” wakes up among the Gangers, who instantly accept him. After all, he’s one of their own.

We’re starting to see how similar both versions of the same character are, though. Both versions of Cleves are stuck with an inoperable blood clot. And both versions of Jimmy love the same little boy, even if he isn’t exactly the greatest of child actors.

The end of the main plot, shortly after Jenny goes all Lazarus Experiment, is sudden but well-judged. The TARDIS tumbles into the correct underground chamber in the nick of time. Everyone piles into the TARDIS, but Cleaves’ Ganger stays behind for a bit of a noble sacrifice. I’m glad to see that the character (both versions)  is actually rather more well-rounded than seemed the case last episode.

Joining her in the heroic death stakes is none other than the Doctor. Or rather the Ganger Doctor; they swapped shoes, meaning we’ve had them the wrong way round all along, a nice trick. But that means Amy told… oops. At last she comes to realise that the Flesh is as real as the original Doctor. After all, he’s managed to convince her of that for most of the episode. Interestingly, though, as she gives hem a farewell hug, he tells her to “Push, Amy. But only when she tells you to.” What’s that all about, eh?

The “real” Doctor also lets slip that he understands exactly what Amy has told him. As the Flesh Doctor muses that “My death arrives, I suppose”, the “real” Doctor adds “But this one we’re not invited to.” Oh dear.

There’s a bit of handwavium in evidence as the Doctor miraculously cures Cleaves and the TARDIS miraculously “stabilises” the surviving Ganger versions of Jimmy and Dicken. But why’s the Doctor telling Amy to breathe so often now? We find out immediately, as the contractions start. It seems both Amy and the Doctor have been keeping secrets from each other. The Doctor announces that he “needed to see the Flesh in its early days. That’s why we were here in the first place.”- he just needed enough information to block the signal to the Flesh. The Flesh, that is, that Amy’s mind is currently inhabiting while her body goes into contractions, many light years and many centuries away.

But there’s a problem with the Doctor just zapping Flesh Amy. Yes, we get a “Given what we’ve learned I’ll be as humane as I can”, and yes, it’s a quick death with no slow, fully-conscious rotting with lingering eyes. But we’re left with a very nasty sense that the Doctor has just murdered a sentient being. It’s a pity, especially as a quick line of dialogue to the effect that later Flesh aren’t sentient would have been all we needed.

Amy wakes up, and the Eyepatch Lady tells her to push…

Doctor Who: The Rebel Flesh

“I thought I was going to die!”

“Welcome to my world…”

I didn’t like Fear Her very much, which doesn’t exactly make me much of a contrarian, I know. Still, Life on Mars was very good, if not quite as good in hindsight as we all thought it was, so I was glad to see Matthew Graham get another chance,. We end up with this, a two parter which is really quite good, if nothing particularly special, with only a couple of little niggles.

Anyway… it’s a picturesque setting: a kind of Yorkshire St. Michael’s Mount being used as an acid factory in the 22nd century. It’s near Whitby, apparently- is this some sort of Dracula allusion? It’s as ruggedly industrial as any early Pertwee, but with much nicer architecture. And to add to the nostalgia factor we get quotes from The Invasion (“pettier than a computer, isn’t she?”).

The pre-titles sequence introduces us to our three factory workers Jennifer, Buzzer and Jimmy. The underwhelmed reaction to Jenny’s accidental “killing” of Buzzer hints at this story’s McGuffin, as does the reappearance of Buzzer, played by Life on Mars’ Marshall Lancaster.

The TARDIS is almost like a city centre pub these days, what with the dartboard and Muse’s Supermassive Black Hole. But the fact that the Doctor is having a sneaky scan of Schrodinger’s foetus at the beginning of the story, not the end, should alert us that something’s up, story-arc wise.

The Doctor, Amy and Rory disembark, and for some reason are instantly fascinated by a pip. Er, how very interesting. It’s a bit like the beginning of Fury from the Deep, except without all the tiresome suspicion for the TARDIS crew. Thank the heavens for psychic paper, which has delivered us from having to sit through loads of boring scenes with the Doctor being mistrusted by those in authority.

We meet the rest of the crew: Cleves, the boss, played by Raquel Cassidy off of Lead Balloon, and the strangely anonymous Dicken, who might as well not even be in the story. We’re also introduced to the Flesh, “fully programmable matter”, which is used to create “Gangers” to do all the dangerous work. Oh, and there’s going to be a big solar storm. Gosh, I wonder what’ll happen. After all, lightning striking artificially created human-type creatures isn’t in any way known in popular culture for bringing them to life, is it?

The inevitable happens, they’re all out for an hour, the TARDIS starts ton sink into the ground, and the Gangers have gone walkabout. Surprised? Thought not.

Rory, being a nice bloke and a burse, starts to comfort the terrified Jennifer, to Amy’s obvious annoyance. We really should realise, as the plot has been fairly predictable so far, that she’s a Ganger, and it’s not long until we get confirmation by CGI. And Cleves, it turns out, is a Ganger too. It’s all quite effective, even though it does little but run through an established list of tropes. The whole existential aspect of the Gangers being just as much a continuation of the previous self as the original is touched upon but not with any real passion or creativity. This isn’t a bad episode, but there’s certainly an element of going-through-the-motions with the plot. There just aren’t any real surprises.

Interestingly, the Doctor comments quite early on that “This is early Flesh- the early stages of the technology”. He obviously has some sort of agenda- even Jimmy can spot that. Then again, the Doctor seems to think there’s a word called “defendable”, so what does he know?

Jenny’s big speech to Rory is quite awkward, too. Sarah Smart delivers the lines well, but the dialogue is neither naturalistic nor poetic enough to get away with not being naturalistic. Again, the existential crisis of realising your memories are not your own (or are they?) is touched upon but not with any real depth.

The Doctor is forced to abandon his shoes (and in a script this predictable we know that’ll be important later), but manages to bring everyone- human and Ganger- together. It’s an ominous sign, though, that the Gangers have all the acid suits.

Arthur Darvill shows how great he is in portraying Rory’s embarrassment when Ganger Jennifer tells him that “Amy’s a lucky girl”. And as for Amy, she’s seeing that Eyepatch Lady again. She’s rather less convinced of the Gangers’ humanity than Rory, and I don’t think this is really to do with any jealousy for Jennifer. You can tell from glances between her and Rory that she knows her jealous instincts are just instincts. She’s actually being quite rational about the whole thing. Rory waited two thousand years for her- she has nothing to be jealous about and she knows it.

There’s an interesting scene in which the two Jimmys ponder the fact that they both have the same son but, again, the whole philosophical angle is quite plodding and superficial. And the Doctor’s northern accent has declined somewhat since the days when he was Christopher Eccleston.

If this already feels a bit like last year’s Silurian two-parter in that its quite good but predictable and never-really catches fire, we get a more blatant parallel in which Cleves becomes this story’s Ambrose. Once again it’s a woman who makes it all kick off. Hormones and wandering wombs? It’s like feminism never happened. Well, perhaps that’s a bit harsh; I’m sure it wasn’t actively meant like that. But it’s a little awkward.

Oh, and here’s a Ganger Doctor. Like everything else that happens it’s hardly a surprise, but it’s quite an appetiser for the next episode.