Des: Episode 3

 "I could never have stopped..."

And it ends with a highly dramatic and entertaining courtroom drama, with twists and turns throughout until we reach the relief of the guilty verdict, a majority (but not all) of the jury rejecting Nielsen's claims of diminished responsibility.

Yet there's more to it that that. This is a deeply ethical episode of television that focuses heavily on the suffering of the victims, and those who mourn them. Neither we nor Peter Jay can fault the anger of the widow who's ex is not getting justice. Then there's Carl, a deeply traumatised survivor, who endures vile homophobic abuse not only outside the court but inside the witness box.

Also, though, it becomes disturbingly clear how Nilsen is controlling the whole narrative, despite the outcome, everything proceeding on his terms, including his acceptance of the verdict. And it's satisfying to see Brian Masters not only come to realise this, but to assert control in how he frames his biography, firmly stating that it's not about Nilsen's ego, but a "warning".

Nilsen may be charming when he wants to be, he may be unassuming. He may quote Cervantes. But he's also a deeply controlling monster who destroyed lives and caused untold suffering. This drama, and this final episode, examine this superbly and tastefully.

And, yet again, David Tennant is magnificent.

A View from a Hill

 "I can't explain it..."

I confess I've never read any M.R. James, just as I've never read and H.P. Lovecraft or Robert E. Howard- I suppose, like many people, and without thinking about it, I tend to gravitate towards novels without considering short stories. I really ought to correct that.

I mention this to excuse the fact that I've now seen a good half dozen or so of his stories as adaptred on the BBC as Ghost Stories for Christmas. And I'm beginning to detect a pattern to many of them- a distant, unholynevil from the past ensnares a curious scholar with temptations of knowledge, slowly luring him to his doom. It's a simple formula, and one that can be easily repeated without going stale.

This story fits the template exactly. Young and awkward academic Dr Fanshawe visits a friendly local squire, stoically philosophical about his financially straitened existence, in order to catalogue some archaeological relics. But what whe finds are some unusual binoculars which tempt him slowly, inexorably, gentle BBC jump scare by gentle BBC jump scare, to the gallows.

It's superb, of course. Well directed, with the entire cast excelling. It's fun to see David Burke as the sinister butler trope, but it's Mark Letheren who truly excels as the shy, solitary Dr Fanshawe.

Overall, good stuff. And yes- I will indeed be watching several such stories between now and Christmas Day.

Roadkill: Episode 4

 "I will set my country free..."

Argh. You know how things are, essentially, good, bad or indifferent, and in reviewing something (not that I’d necessarily describe this blog as a “review” but me just pontificating however I want), one is essentially placing what one is reviewing along that scale, and why? Well, this episode- and by extension the series- is rather difficult to put on that scale. To show why, I’m going to discuss the episode twice- as a taut political thriller and as a state of the nation political drama from David Hare.

As a thriller, with Peter Laurence as an antihero who schemes his way to the top while still being recognisably human, this is bloody good. It’s admirable how nearly the places click into place in this final episode. The whole thing is extremely well structured, with no loose ends and some nice character stuff- the meeting between Peter and Rose is nicely heartwarming, and I like how they subvert expectations by connecting- although the comparison between the politician and the fraudster is clear. It's House of Cards for the '20s.

Unfortunately, as this is a play by David Hare, I think we're supposed to see some kind of depth of commentary on the state of the nation, wth Peter Lawrence being a thinly veiled Boris Johnson. But there's no attempt here to understand the Tory mind. While I'm sure many Tories are indeed cynical bastards, that's a fairly shallow point to make. Yes, Peter is allowed to have genuine libertarian principles, but this is essentialy taking House of Cards and expecting us to take it, not just as a bit of Machiavellian fun, but as a serious examination of modern Toryism. There's no sense whatsoever that Hare has made any attempt to look at how Tories see themselves. One doesn't have to be a Tory, or right wing (I'm neither: I'm a Whig) to understand that some people, whether I agree or not, may see value in a Burkean clinging to tried and tested institutions and caution about change lest we risk the chaos of change, or indeed in a more fundamentalist view of the free market, incompatible though these ideas surely seem. It would hard to extend this approach to the shallow and destructive Leninism of a Dominic Cummings, which would be fascinating, but most Tories would agree with me there.

I'll be generous, and treat Roadkill as a modern House of Cards. In those terms, it's rather good although not as good as the original. But it's no more than that.

Roadkill: Episode 1

 "Voters think of me as a character..."

So, alternating with the crown, I'll be blogging this very current political thriller from David Hare, starring Hugh Laurie as exactly the sort of morally dodgy character he's been playing of late. First impressions are extremely promising: an intricate yet clear plot that reminds me of State of Play while being very much of our time.

We first meet ambitious Tory transport minister Peter Laurence immediately after he's won a libel case and makes a speech on the steps which has to have been intended to echo Jonathan Aitken, bavk in the Major years back in that innocent era when Toty misisters would actually resign for misdeeds and the concept of absolute truth was rather more fashionable than it is now. But, well, he's essentially Boris Johnson, isn't he? A shagger, a "character", a man with no pirnciples.... although, it seems, Peter is at once more criminal and much more competent than Boris.

It says a lot for Hare's script that there are lots of characters and many moving parts here, but things are never hard to follow. The cast is superb. The hero is clearly Sarah Greene's investigative journalist Charmian,humanised as a recovering alcoholic, but also impressive are Helen McRory as a delightfully machiavellian prime minister and Pip Torrens as a cynical newspaper editor. The direction is excellent yet unobtrusive, and it's nice to see a variety of locations from a prison to a club where young people dance to The Fall's "Totally Wired". Where were these places when I was their age?

A very promising start. Early days, but this could prove to be something special.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 7- Matrimonium

"As in art, so, it would appear, in life..."

Again we have a Margaret episode and, again, there is much subtlety and character development. Like ast episode, the plot is simple; Margaret is to marry Tony who, we now see, is sectretly carrying on polyamorous relationships with both sexes and, moreover, is rather more damaged than he might appear. Yet Elizabeth, even after hearing the truth from Tommy Lascelles- again brought out of retirement to do what Michael cannot- is unable, after what happened with Peter Townsend, to say no. And the baby to whom she gives birth here will one day be mixed up with sexual doings that are a thousand times worse.

The episode abounds, as ever, with lovely character moments on which we can dwell as we hope that Margaret won't get hurt. The scene between Margaret and Elizabeth at the end is fascinating- Margaret wants freedom and independence, and is marrying this man as part of that. Yet she, unlike the Queen, enjos the titles and the deference and will never give up those things- a necessary precondition for any royal to break free of their life sentence in a gilded cage.

We get an outburst from Philip, last season a victim of snobbery himself, yet looking down on Tony who, unlike hilself, is not the grandson of a king and a prince in his own right. Fascinatingly, we learn that the womanising Tony is the son of a vaguely neglectful mother who left his commoner father to marry an earl, and his younger half-brother outranks him- until he marries Margaret. Deliciously, we hear this as Tony, along with the Frys with whom he is having a bisexual menage a trois, watches the results of the 1959 election as Supermac crushes all before him in a country that has never had it so good.

It is also jarring to see Macmillan lead the Cabinet in prayer upon hearing of the royal baby. 1959 was a different world, albeit a changing one, more religious than ours on the surface- but perhaps not much deeper than that; and where conservative social mores on the surface are not applied to the discreet elite.

A superb hour of drama, as always.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 6- Vergangenheit

"He's shouting, darling. Only zealots shout."

This is, perhaps, the finest episode so far, and rich in its themes of duty and (not narrowly religious)  faith.

It's obvious to those of us with vague knowledge of the Duke of Windsor's wartime activites that the two plot threads- David's desire to return from exile and do some useful work to free him from a life of empty decadence versus the looming forced publication of secret wartime papers linked to the toyals and, as we see in the flashback with George VI, are a source of great shame- are linked. And so the overall plot, as Elizabeth learns the full truth (perhaps) from Tommy Lascelles and ultimately exiles him forever, plays out superbly, with excellent dramatic beats and superb characterisation throughout.

Except the episode is even better than that. There are so many superb touches, from Tommy Lascelles preciousness with his miniature troops (the geek), to the quote above- given the wider themes of the episode, is the Queen Mother comparing Billy Graham to Hitler, as least in the limited sense that demagoguery is not a good thing? Yet the presence of Graham here- and the Queen's interest in him- provide a contrast between the dutiful and deeply conscientious Christian sovereign and the life of empty luxury and fundamental tackiness led by her flighty uncle in Paris. We last see Elizabeth kneeling in prayer, while we last see David giving a look of profound alienation as he suffers yet another party. Alex Jennings is superb here.

The first scene between Elizabeth and Graham is superb, too. I'm not someone capable of faith myself (show me empiiacal proof that God exists and I'll believe, but don't just tell me there's an invisible man who lives in the sky and not expect a raised eyebrow) but the desire of the Head of the Church of England to be a "simple Christian" is touching. Although nowhere near as good as the revelation that Phil has been getting bladdered with the Queen Mum and Tommy Lascelles.

Is what Tommy Lascelles says about Edward VIII literally true? I'm sure to a large extent it is, but in full? Was David significantly worse than his brother for hob-nobbing with Nazis in the 1930s, when the Holocaust was unsuspected but it was already clear Hitler was a cruel dictator, whatever sympathies one may have had for Germany after Versailles? I'm no expert. But this is a supetlative hour of telly.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 5- Marionettes

“Goodness, a constitutional crisis!"

A quietly excellent episode this time, artfully exploring somewhat abstract constitutional issues while nevertheless functioning as drama. And John Heffernan is superb as a peer(!) who throws a grenade on to the institution of monarchy in order to save it in a world where, after all, where monarchies were once the rule and republics the exception, we now live in a world where the reverse is the case.

Lord Altrincham's opinions reflect, interestingly, a time where any criticism of the monarchy was seen as heretical and republicanism was unthinkable. Today we are, I think, more open-minded, and not necessarily to the monarchy's detriment. Like many, I am a republican in the abstract. My ideal state would of course be a republic; that a head of state should be elected is a no-brainer. But we do not, of course, live in the abstract; we live in a particular time and place. And I for one do not believe, here in the UK in 2020, that our current generation of politicians has either the integrity or the constitutional literacy to make such a radical change and the monarchy is, in contrast to the damage that may be done, eminently preferable. I'm the St Augustine of republicans- give me a republic, but not yet.

Yet there are troubling issues- of snobbery, of the diminished but inevitable presence of divine right in a secular world, of the disconnect between the actual job of being a head of state who is "above" politics and the actual history of royalty, represented by the Queen Mother here in her dolefully reactionary "marionettes" speech near the end. These issues are hinted at by Lord Altrincham- a character who comes across rather well, both overall and while being interviewed by Bertie Carvel as a superb Robin Day- but he seeks not to destroy the institution, but to save it, as comes across in the dramatically effective but probably apocyphal chat with Elizabeth herself.

What is perhaps clear is just how out-of-touch the old breed of courtier has become, as seen with the dreadful speech Elizabeth is given. Things must change, so that they may stay the same.

In other news, Margaret is shagging Tony. This is superb stuff as ever.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 3- Lisbon

“One always has to accept one’s own part, I believe, in any mess.”

This is a very cleverly structured episode, both in itself and as part of the season. We return, of course, to the Lisbon flash forward where the season began, whet the two plot threads- Eden’s resignation and the climax of the Parker divorce case revelation in the media and the confrontation between Elizabeth and Philip. It’s masterfully done: the train steaming inexorably towards Sandringham for Eden to suffer his drive of shame before resigning is also a symbol of what awaits Philip.

Yet Elizabeth remains, somehow, constitutionally above it all. Eden may try to rationalise things to himself, and to claim that he’s resigning from ill health and not because he’s just been- to use an anachronism- Thatchered by his Cabinet. Macmillan may try and downplay his past support for the Suez misadventure, but the Queen is not unaware. And nor is she unaware of the underlying reasons for Philip’s “restlessness”- again, the question of his possible adultery is left open- or, indeed, unfeeling, whatever the stiff upper lip exterior may show. Claire Foy is utterly sublime here.

The solution- upgrading Phil to a Prince and a crackdown on moustaches- seems unlikely to work. We shall see. Further kids are on the way, the less said about the first of them the better, but Mike is perceptive, in his parting chat with Phil, on the underlying tension between a monarch and their eldest son, who represents their personal extinction.

There is an awful lot going on here- echoes of the Iraq War, but one where the protests claim their scalp; Tommy Lascelles coming back from retirement for a crisis; the Queen and Eileen having a woman to woman talk. The obvious respect both PM’s have for Elizabeth- and her perceptive comments to Eden on how doing nothing is often the wisest course, but not one that may appeal to those wishing themselves to be great men. This is a clever, clever bit of telly.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 10- Gloriana

"You have more freedom than any consort in history. And you repay it by scowling and sulking like an adolescent."

As ever, the title of the episode is clever. It's interesting to consider it alongside the final scene, with Elizabeth dressed up all regal and told to be Elizabeth Regina, most definitely not Elizabeth Windsor. This is both the theme and the tragedy of both the episode and the series.

Elizabeth Windsor has her interests- keeping her husband happy with the man she loves and maintaining a happy marriage with her increasingly petulant husband (Phil ends the series being increasingly unlikeable, beastly to both Elizabeth and Charles without sufficient motivation). But it's in the interests of Elizabeth Regina to ruin all this in the name of a glorious yet powerless monarchy and an uncaring Church which seems to exist only to cruelly police people's sex lives. What happens to Margaret and Peter is unspeakably cruel and I can see how Margaret sees the chance to renounce her titles as a liberation- the chains may be made of gold but to be royal is to be enslaved, with no agency, privacy, dignity or power.

And it stays with you. In a powerful scene a desperate Elizabeth asks for advice from her uncle David, the only person alive who knows how she feels- and for once he drops the cynical mask and speaks honestly; there is no escape from these conflicts between person and monarch, not even abdication. These are complex, abstract themes, handled well in a strong finale.

There's another strand to the episode, though. The new PM, Sir Anthony Eden, at first seems much younger and more vigorous than his predecessor, but we gradually see the pills he's taking, the pain he's in and, in the final scene, the recreational drugs he's injecting; is he any more fit for the job than his predecessor was? The trippy final scene makes it clear that Suez is coming.  This veteran foreign secretary has been reduced to a drug-addicted shadow of a man just when it's all about to kick off.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 8- Pride & Joy

"The banger is falling apart!"

This episode was, perhaps, inevitable given the way this series is structured; a long and demanding Commonwealth tour between Liz and Phil serves as a nice contrast with her less dutiful sister Margaret, who duly makes a hash of standing in for Elizabeth during her absence. Just as interesting, though, are the deepening cracks appearing between Elizabeth and a husband who sees the farcical side of using pomp and circumstance to hide the fact that the once-mighty British Empire is slowly dying with a whimper.

We also get a nice bit of character development for the Queen Mother, too, as she disappears away to the Highlands to get away from it all, be anonymous and endear herself to us viewers in a way she hasn't so far.

This is, I think, presented as a pivotal moment for Elizabeth as Queen as she literally follows Churchill's advice to "never let the cameras see the real Elizabeth Windsor". Just as symbolic, I think, is how she charmingly intimidates a group of photographers into destroying the evidence of her row with a somewhat mardy Phil. The tour is deeply punishing, as shown by some nice directorial tricks, but Elizabeth endures it all for duty.

The ending, where the Queen bollocks Margaret and they proceed to get philosophical, is perhaps a microcosm of the whole show; it's well-made, well-acted and watchable, but it is lacking in the profundity that would make it truly great, and I suspect that is in no small part down to the subject matter.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 7- Scientia Potentia Est

"No one wants a bluestocking or a college lecturer as Sovereign!"

One of the better episodes, this, making the point that not even all the privilege in the world can save one from 1950s misogyny and stereotyping- and, make no mistake, today is much the same but with the rough edges taken off. Women's rights may have advanced from the Paleolithic to the Mesolithic but they are nevertheless in the Stone Age.

Back in little Lillibet's childhood, for example, even after she became heir presumptive, her education consisted solely of the Constitution, Bagehot (So that's how you pronounce the name! I had a similar epiphany with "Lascelles".) and all that. Nothing else. No history, literature, science, philosophy; and yet, her brief expert discourse to the professor hired to tutor her on the finer points of horse racing is clearly meant to imply that Elizabeth, so self-consciously uneducated and intimidated by all these successful and educated men (yes, men) who surround her, is not so much unintelligent as untested.

The other main strand to the episode is, of course, the astounding fact that Churchill had a couple of minor strokes during 1953 and that not only the Press but also the Queen was kept in the dark; no wonder that we Brits have since preferred our leaders to be rather less gerontocratic ever since. Worse, Churchill is only buggering on so that his preferred successor, Eden, can recover from crippling gallstone surgery. And the poor heath of both the prime minister and the foreign secretary is seen, especially by the Eisenhower era Americans, as a metaphor for national decline. Awkward.

We also get a disturbing clash over the choice of his replacement as royal secretary between Elizabeth and the forces of ossified conservatism in the shape of Lascelles; he seems to see anything other than bland, passive conformity as a slippery slope on the way to Abdication. But Elizabeth is clearly no Edward VIII.

We end with Elizabeth giving Churchill a delightful bollocking and Phil, hitherto unseen all episode, turning up as pissed as a fart having spent even more time away from his wife. All is not perfect in that marriage...

Good stuff.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 6: Gelignite

"There's no such thing as a blameless party in a divorce!"

So this is the one where Margaret isn't allowed to marry the man she wants because he's divorced (his wife left him) and, frankly, because he's a commoner. And all because the Queen is allowed, through the Royal Marriages Act 1772, to veto any of her relatives.' marriages before they're 25. It's hardly fair although, of course, the same could be said of hereditary succession. Being in the Royal Family is a (very) gilded cage. To be royal is not to be free. We end with the two sisters very much estranged.

That takes up most of the episode, but we also get some foreshadowing of Nasser's nationalisation of the Suez Canal courtesy of Ed Stoppard, who played Brian Epstein in Cilla; Stalin dying in the background; and Princess Margaret delivering a speech in Rhodesia at the end which is staggering in its casual racism. And it seems that Philip is spending less and less time with Elizabeth.

Dramatic and unusually self-contained as the episode is, it feels very much like foreshadowing...

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 5: Smoke and Mirrors

"Borrow it, Ma'am? From whom? If it's not yours, whose is it?"

And so we come to the coronation, that watershed in British television history where a ceremony both elitist and inclusive (Phil let the TV cameras in) finally made telly a true mass medium. It was also, as we see here, a battle of wills between, inevitably, tradition- the Dukes of Norfolk have arranged all coronations since James II- and the radical modernising zeal of, er, Prince Philip. In 1953 he was very much the outsider, and has the fear of revolution of a continental royal..

It;s nice, then, that we begin with a flashback to 1937, as George VI lets little Lilibet help him with practising for his big day. It's also a brilliant showcase for David as a character- forbidden from the event, he may host a small party in Paris, mocking the ceremony as it is screened, but he is not so cynical as he seems; he is wounded that he never lasted long enough to have a coronation of his own.

This is also the point where Queen Mary dies, a very present link with the Victorian past. The same could be said of Churchill, who now sits during his audiences with the Queen. But the centrepiece is the ceremony itself, much of which is simply shown as was, complete with the Archbishop of Canterbury (Ronald Pickup) fluffing his lines. It's a deeply moving and powerful piece of mumbo-jumbo. But we end with Elizabeth and Philip's marriage in an awkward place.

More very good drama, as we can expect from Netflix. The Crown is, perhaps, in the "very good" caegory rather than being one of the all-time greats, but at the halfway point I'm very much enjoying it.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 4- Act of God

"Be careful out there. It's a real pea-souper!"

This episode is interesting in that it deals with the great smog crisis of 1952, where a mixture of weather and pollution caused 10,000 deaths and the elderly Churchill, interested only in foreign policy, showed no more ntetest until his job was seen to be in peril; this isn't widely know today, much like Churchill's second ministry as a whole.

In other news Phil takes flying lessons with the man who's shagging his sister-in-law- Elizabeth manages to get Churchill to agree to this as a quid pro quo- and Queen Mary is dying. This shouldn't be surprising; after all, she was born in 1867, the year of the Great Reform Act and the Ausgleich, but for Elizabeth it's a race against time to speak as much as she can with the person who seems to have formed her ideological view of monarchy.

We get to know Clem Attlee a little in this episode, no longer prime minister yet, next to Churchill, seeming to be relatively young. And, most heartbreakingly, Venetia develops her hero-worshipping crush on Churchill to a peak, only to be killed by a traffic accident in the smog. So that's why the character has been so heavily emphasised.

Interesting that Elizabeth's view of monarchy is extremely conservative, an updating of the Divine Right of Kings to the context of parliamentary democracy, whereas Philip is much more modern, believing in such radical concepts as the separation of church and state. It's inter sting, too, that the constitutional question of whether she is able to sack Churchill on grounds of age and irrelevanc is never really resolved in theory; even Tommy Lascelles leaves the question open. Only Queen Mary is there to give a firm answer, and she won't be there for long.

More fascinating, cerebral stuff that avoids Daily Mail-style fawning in favour of ideas and characters. This is good telly.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 2- Hyde Park Corner

"I thought we'd have longer."

This second episode is a superbly crafted piece of drama, significantly better than the last one, entirely concerned with the slow but inexorable demise of George VI, the race to tell Lilibet and Phil- stuck in Kenya many decades before mobile phones- what has happened, and give us our first glimpse of the changes that must happen now that she is Queen Elizabeth II. Earlier this episode Lilibet curtseyed to her grandmother, Queen Mary; now, Mary curtseys to her.

Oh, and I've just realised why I recognise Pip Torrens, who plays Tommy Lascelles; he was Mr Cholmondely-Warner in Harry Enfield and Sons. It was the scene where he speaks sternly to Townsend about what he's up to with Margaret that made me realise. Blimey.

We also get the first of no doubt many scenes of Phil being vaguely racist as the royal couple touch down in Kenya, we get introduced to Churchill's new secretary Venetia, who will no doubt play an important role later on, and we begin to see both how Churchill is slowly losing it (except for big set-piece speeches, of course) and how frustrating this is, despite royal rebukes, for Anthony Eden, perpetual heir to the premiership and the Prince Charles of the 1950s Tory party.

But the episode centres around the urgent yet calm, uneasy yet rehearsed flurry of activity that follows the King's sudden death one morning; we see as the news slowly circulates and plans spring into action. Amongst all that are small character moments, though, with Phil facing down an elephant and Elizabeth showing her war mechanic skills. And there are hats everywhere. Lots of hats.

But there's no denying that this is a very impressive piece of telly. More please.

Doctor Who: Human Nature / Family of Blood

“No man should hide himself, don’t you think?”

I distinctly recall the first time I read Paul Cornell’s original novel. It was the autumn of 2002, I was about to start my third year at university, and I was the first to arrive in our new student house for the year. I spent the next forty-eight hours waiting for people to arrive, and had devoured the whole thing by the time they arrived. Being alone in a house with lots of noises from outside doesn’t half make for an atmosphere, and the book made quite an impression on me.

All of which is quite irrelevant, of course. The televised version is quite different, taking place over a much shorter time period, the meaning of the events to the regular characters are entirely different, and the pacifistic subtext has been considerably softened. But it’s just as great.

The pre-titles sequence is extraordinarily pacey and sets us up in the middle of events with skilful economy. It also packs quite a punch. The concept is utterly fantastic; the perfect Doctor-lite story, albeit one featuring David Tennant rather heavily. The Doctor is entirely absent for most of the episode, and yet at all times he’s the centre of attention. The structure of the narrative is also brilliant, with the use of flashbacks telling us all we need to know of the backstory while keeping exposition to the bare minimum.

The setting, a public school in 1913, is very interesting. The story doesn’t dwell on why the Doctor’s plan had to involve this particular setting, but it’s notable (if hardly an original observation) that the Doctor, in all his guises, has always had a particular fondness for the Edwardian era. It’s also singularly appropriate that he should be a history teacher. On the other hand, things are quite appallingly inconvenient for Martha, forced to live a life of drudgery and social restriction as Smith’s maid. This is dealt with well, though, and Martha gets the best character development that she gets all season. The depiction of the racism of the period is extremely well-judged; we get just the one overt moment of nastiness with Hutchinson’s comments, but there’s plenty of more subtle prejudice from the likes of Joan and even Smith, characters whom we find largely sympathetic but who are nevertheless of their time.

And then there’s the English public school setting, of course. To some it’s a formative experience; to a state educated oik like me it’s a part of popular culture, understood through the medium of the Jennings books, Lindsay Anderson’s If… and Stephen Fry’s autobiography; all this gives me an entirely accurate impression, I’m sure. I suppose introducing the building to the strains of To Be a Pilgrim is something of a cliché, but then some clichés are too good to resist.

Jessica Hines is fantastic as Joan, as of course is Tennant as Smith, and combined with one of the finest scripts the programme has ever offered the depiction of their relationship is extraordinary, with more layers revealing themselves with every viewing. There’s not much comedy in these episodes, but I love the early scenes of Joan flirting with a terrified John Smith.

Martha’s jealous of Joan, of course, and in fact this is the only story in the entire season which makes me almost forget that I think this whole infatuation subplot is a mistake. That’s a sign of a very good script.

Also very good is Harry Lloyd as Baines, both before and after he’s possessed. And isn’t invisibility such a wonderfully cost-effective way of realising an alien spaceship?

Only when the status quo is fully established do we get the full backstory and the introduction of the Chameleon Arch, no doubt a one-off McGuffin which will never be heard from again. And the “You are not alone” which we hear as Timothy takes the watch is, I’m sure, of no importance. There’s nothing to see here. Move along.

The baddies are quite effective; the scarecrows are great, of course, and the little girl with the red balloon is quite as sinister as she is in the novel. I love that nice little musical tribute we get to the similar character in Remembrance of the Daleks as she walks along a country lane.

Crikey, there’s so much going on that’s worthy of comment. The scene with Smith supervising the boys at “corps”, as I believe it’s called, is just dripping with meaning and subtext, this being 1913. “I hope, Latimer,” says the headmaster, “that one day you will have a just and proper war in which to prove yourself”. A war which would eventually not in fact be directed against “tribesmen from the Dark Continent”. I have to admit, though- in accepting machine guns the headmaster seems at least to be more forward-thinking than Field Marshal Haig would prove to be…

Oh, and of course there’s “Permission granted”. A brave move, but absolutely the right one in context.

Just before everything blows up, we get some wonderful stuff between Smith and Joan. There’s that sequence, of course (that scene, along with the hat, makes me think of John Smith as a sort of Clark Kent figure), and the nice tribute to the founders of the show with Smith’s parents being named as “Sydney” and “Verity”.

Ahem. A meal and two glasses of wine have been consumed since the last paragraph. Just warning you.

I love the way Joan follows Smith’s claim that his mother was a nurse with “We make such good wives.” Do you reckon she might be insinuating something? Then we have Smith finally asking her out. And the moving speech about widowhood. All of this is quite wonderful. And then we have the “Um, can you actually dance?” bit- nice reference!- and Martha’s rather upsetting dismissal (“Cultural differences…”), and the chat between the two love rivals in the pub. It’s all great, and then we have the cliffhanger…



The Family of Blood



“God, you’re rubbish as a human.”

And the gushing continues. I might as well tell you now that this is going straight to the top of my list…

Martha’s so brave in the early scenes, holding the baddies off with a gun and ensuring everyone is safe. It’s suddenly obvious that Cornell is writing her so much better than she’s been written before.

And the converse of this is Smith’s reaction- to instantly summon all the boys to defend the school with guns. Much as I like to poke fun at the exaggerated impression many fans have that the Doctor never uses guns (just look at Frontier in Space!), all this is so very unDoctorish.

Back to Martha- her “bones of the hand” speech is great. And once again it’s brave yet utterly right of Cornell to allow Joan, one of the characters we’re supposed to like, to express racist views- proto-feminist Joan may be, butte’s still of her time. In trying to make her believe that she’s a doctor-to-be Martha hits a brick wall. All this makes Martha look pretty damn great.

Smith gets some great lines once he has to confront his rather unenviable existential dilemma. “How can you think I’m not real?” he protests. “Am I not a good man?” It is now highlighted that he has no actual memories of his Nottingham childhood, another brilliant touch. Incidentally, I went to uni in Nottingham and I can’t quite recall whether some of the streets he mentions ring a bell…

We get more echoes of the recent past as Tim Latimer, a sort of Doctor substitute in some ways, declares himself “a coward, every time”. And then there’s the chilling juxtaposition of the battles scenes and To Be a Pilgrim. The headmaster is then killed, and Smith at last decides to send the boys away.

And then there’s Tim’s speech in the cottage. It should be corny. It’s not. I’ll quote it in full, cos I love it: “He’s like fire. And ice, and rage. He’s like the night, and the storm at the heart of the Sun. He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And he’s wonderful.”

The build-up and tension to Smith’s inevitable decision is brilliantly handled, and the implications are fully explored: “And it was your job to execute me?” he says to Martha.

Still- the scenes appear once the watch is opened, so I expect Smith experiences the rest of his whole life, in Life on Mars fashion. Tennant’s acting on the ship is superb- on subsequent viewings it’s more obvious that he’s playing the Doctor pretending to be Smith, but it’s a brilliant and great performance. And it’s great to have the Doctor back. He’s never more seemed like a “lonely god”; his punishments for the Family of Blood are like something out of Greek mythology, or perhaps Morpheus’ behaviour in the early issues of Sandman. This is deep stuff- I mean, the little girl being the thing in the corner of your eye whenever you look into a mirror?!

And then there’s the Doctor’s behaviour with Joan. Seldom has he been more arrogant, insensitive, or unlikeable. Someone would have always died somewhere, of course, but still, Joan is absolutely right: “Answer me this. Just one question, that’s all. If the Doctor had never visited us, never chosen this place- on a whim- would anyone here have died?” (Silence). “You can go.” Genius.


This is wonderful. Forget Doctor Who, this is one of the finest pieces of television drama I’ve ever seen. 5/5, and the best ever.