May 31: "Escape to L.A." (TW)

Hmm.  Torchwood: Miracle Day seems to have slowed its story down rather, as this is another episode that's largely concerned with setup.  However, the events of "Escape to L.A." largely play out as a consequence of Esther's actions at the beginning, as she goes to visit her sister, who "can't cope", in her words.  And because she does so, Torchwood is followed, from Washington D.C. to the west coast of the United States.

Oswald Danes decides to speak up for those who should be dead.
("Escape to L.A.") ©BBC Worldwide, Limited

But for most of the episode, the primary concern is the rising concerns of what to do with the people who should be dead but aren't.  There's a rather awful woman named Ellis Hartley Monroe -- described as "the darling of the Tea Party" -- who advocates segregation of those who should be dead with her "Dead is Dead" campaign.  She seems to be in this episode for two reasons: first, to act as a spokesperson for the less compassionate point of view that would likely arise in such a situation, but more importantly, to act as a foil for Oswald Danes, a counterpoint to him as he continues his rise.  We're meant to see how his message of acceptance is more powerful than Hartley's more hateful message, and that's ironic, given Danes's past and the conversation he had with Jack at the end of the previous episode.  It's a child murderer who Phicorp are using to get their message across, a message of acceptance that will of course also lead to more sales of pain meds for Phicorp.

But of course Torchwood is working against Phicorp, trying to work out what they're up to, and slowly but surely they're making progress.  Now they know that they have to steal a server out of Phicorp, which is what the second half of this episode is about, and this is the part where the person hired by the Delta group (my term for them, since they seem to contact people with a direct line that has a capital Greek letter delta on the display) starts to take out Torchwood.  "This is all your fault!" Rex yells at Esther after she reveals she went to visit her sister -- and it's true that three people nearly...well, not die, because the Miracle, but end up in really poor shape (and, of course, Jack could die).  It's here that we also get a hint that Jack's connected to this, thanks to an event in his past.  "What did you give them so long ago?" the assassin asks Jack, but Jack doesn't know, and before the assassin can give some names to help jar Jack's memory Rex shoots the assassin through the throat.  But at least they know something.

It's an exciting sequence, but it does start to feel like Miracle Day is starting to just spin its wheels as it concentrates on filling out its ten episodes.  As with the previous episode, "Escape to L.A." isn't bad (and it looks like Esther learned an important lesson), but I hope they start things moving soon.

May 30: "Dead of Night" (TW)

This episode isn't quite as good as the last two, as it's primarily an episode in a holding pattern.  The biggest advancement of the plot is that the drug company Phicorp (and note the similarity to real-world pharmaceutical company Pfizer) has been stockpiling pain medications for a long time: they knew the Miracle was coming and they were ready for it.  But we learn this in the first 15 minutes, and then the rest of the time is spent waiting, it seems.  It's a nice reveal, to be sure, with the gigantic warehouse filled with painkillers, but after that there's a sense of wheel-spinning.  Jack goes off to get drunk and laid, while Rex quits the team, gets laid himself, and then comes back.  I suppose if you're a fan of butts this is exciting stuff, and I suppose they had to show Jack's lifestyle, but in terms of the larger storyline it feels rather irrelevant.

Jilly Kitzinger and Dr. Vera Juarez. ("Dead of Night") ©BBC
Worldwide, Limited

I get that this episode is moving pieces into position for further down the line, as Vera realizes that pain medications are going to be the next big need, Oswald Danes starts his media ascendancy, Jack has a confrontation with Phicorp (via Danes), and Gwen steals some information (hopefully) on Phicorp.  But it's a rather joyless episode -- not that this storyline is particularly happy, but there've been flashes of cleverness.  Here, however, it's more an exercise in plot functions, and little here is particularly surprising or exciting.

I suspect I'm making things sound worse than they are.  It's not a bad episode by any means -- it remains entertaining throughout, and toward the end, as Gwen infiltrates Phicorp while Jack goes to find Danes, things start to pick up.  It's just not up to the high standards Miracle Day had set for itself, as it does start to sag in the middle.  But if a bit boring is the worst things get, they should be just fine.  Just so long as this isn't the start of a slow slide into mediocrity.

(Oh, and I keep meaning to mention it, but... with all the media coverage we've seen within this series so far, where's Trinity Wells, the newsreader who would always show up on Doctor Who, Torchwood, and The Sarah Jane Adventures to let us know how the world felt about things?  It feels like a weird omission, given that they've gone to the trouble to get so many other recurring characters from previous series in this.)

May 29: "Rendition" (TW)

Torchwood continues strong with this second episode of Miracle Day.  "Rendition" (or "Renditions", if you're going by the iTunes intro) is primarily about two things: Jack and Gwen's flight across the Atlantic (Rhys gets left behind with Anwen), and Rex's CIA colleague Esther Drummond being pulled into this Torchwood conspiracy and set up as a patsy.  Sure, there are some other things going on involving the consequences of the Miracle (such as Vera working out that they were treating patients in the wrong order, now that no one can die), and we're introduced to the character of Jilly Kitzinger, a public relations representative who's so perky and calculatedly scatter-brained that it kind of rubs you the wrong way, but those often feel like background details while we focus on other things.

Jack is poisoned. ("Rendition") ©BBC Worldwide, Limited

One of those things is a conspiracy within the CIA against Rex and Esther, purely because of their investigation of Torchwood -- somebody out there really doesn't want people to learn about the connection between Torchwood and the Miracle.  Not that Torchwood understands it yet either.  But as Rex says, "I don't think you actually know anything. ... What you are is connected.  And someone has made a link between that old Institute of yours and the Miracle.  And now they want to kill you for it.  So we work out what the connection is, and then we start to solve it."  Jack has a theory, involving morphic fields²³³ being reversed (which is why he can be injured and not heal -- as Rhys puts it, "Everything mortal becomes immortal, so everything immortal becomes mortal"), but as of right now it's little more than a theory.  It's enough to worry the conspiracy, though (whose face is currently that of CIA agent Brian Friedkin, as played by Wayne Knight -- perhaps still best known as Newman from the sitcom Seinfeld), so they try to poison Jack, which leads to an exciting sequence on the airplane as they try to save the only mortal man left alive on the planet.  I like the way they're tearing up the plating on the plane to get what they need to save Jack, and how Gwen punches out the awful smug Lyn Peterfield with one right hook (sorry, Dichen Lachman was recently on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I have some issues with her character (not her acting -- she was good) that I'm still working through).  It's a good sequence.

And this conspiracy definitely don't want Torchwood finding out what's going on, so not only do they try to kill Jack but they also start taking care of anyone working on the Torchwood case.  So not only is Rex set up, but Esther makes the mistake of telling Friedkin that she'd been working closely with Rex on the Torchwood case, which makes her a target as well.  That's also a tense scene, as she steals a fellow agent's badge to get out of the building before the conspiracy's men grab her -- but Esther is smart (for now), so she makes her way out of there unscathed.  It's a nice way of showing her thrown into this fugitive role that she was completely unprepared for but still able to think intelligently about her situation and thus get away.  (Sadly, this won't last.)

Those are the main parts of the episode, and they're easily entertaining enough to keep this story going.  As Gwen says at the end, "Welcome to Torchwood", and it's hard to think of a better introduction than what we've gotten these past two episodes.  Keep it up, guys.







²³³ Morphic resonance is a "theory" from Rupert Sheldrake that suggests that all members of a species are linked together and influenced by special morphic fields, which means that if someone does something somewhere then it's more likely that someone somewhere else will do/learn the same thing.  It's supposed to provide an explanation for how you can sense that someone is looking at you behind your back, among other things.  It's not accepted by the scientific community because it can't actually be tested experimentally and seems to be unfalsifiable.  About Time 5, while acknowledging that it's generally nonsense, advance it as a possibility for how evolution works in the Doctor Who universe, so they were probably pleased by this confirmation.

May 28: "The New World" (TW)

It's the thing I'm not really sure anyone expected.  Torchwood: Children of Earth ended pretty definitively; yes, they'd saved the planet and the children, but the cost to Torchwood had been dear and Captain Jack had in fact left the planet at the end.  A bleak ending, to be sure, but it was an ending.

But then an American premium cable network, Starz, decided to co-produce another series with the BBC (after a rumored deal with Fox (which had aired the Paul McGann movie in the US) fell through), and so Torchwood was back, now in a trans-Atlantic form but still helmed by Russell T Davies.  And, understandably but something of a first, new episodes premiered in the US a week before they aired in the UK.  (However, I'll be conforming to UK airdates where relevant, in keeping with earlier non-UK shows like K-9.)

This first episode is an impressive opening, to be sure.  Miracle Day is clearly intended to be a mini-series like Children of Earth was (albeit twice as long), and "The New World" does a good job of setting up the basic premise while keeping everything taut and involving.  It's a simple idea -- suddenly, no one in the world can die -- but it's explored with some thought.  The most obvious exploration is the character of CIA agent Rex Matheson, who is impaled through the chest but doesn't die.  "You should've died last night," Dr. Vera Juarez tells Rex, "but when this thing happened, the Miracle, it gave me time to fix you.  Without the Miracle, you'd be dead."  What's not clear, however, is whether Rex can actually heal, and what will happen when the Miracle ends.  "Do I die?" he asks Vera, but she doesn't have an answer.

We also see the aftermath of Children of Earth for Gwen and Rhys, as they're living in a farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere, continually worried that someone will find them and either take them away or kill them.  The scene where Gwen is talking to the two hikers with a gun held behind her back is evidence that Gwen is still dealing with extreme paranoia.  (Correctly, it turns out, if the knowing looks the two hikers give each other afterwards are as significant as they're made to appear.)  But Gwen and Rhys have a beautiful daughter, Anwen, and they need to make certain she'll be safe.

Rex, Jack, Rhys, and Gwen watch as a helicopter is about to
crash into them. ("The New World") ©BBC Worldwide, Limited

But as I said, it's the exploration of the idea of immortality that makes this interesting.  Not only do we have Rex, and the discussions between Gwen and PC Andy Davidson (Hooray!  Another returning cast member) pointing out that this miracle is targeted specifically at humans but that this will cause the world population to explode exponentially and all the problems with food and space that that entails, but we're also presented with the character of Oswald Danes, a convicted pedophile and murderer who was about to be executed by lethal injection when the Miracle happened.  They've gotten in Bill Pullman to play Danes -- no mean feat, given the star quality he brings -- and he chooses to play Danes as slimy and conniving; even when he's being executed he gives off an air of unlikability, and afterwards he's even more distasteful.  Then there are things like the man sent to kill Captain Jack, who is at the center of the explosion at the CIA Archives but is still alive, despite being horrifically burned -- and as we learn in a quite gruesome scene, even when his head is removed from his body he remains alive.

However, this is Torchwood, and so of course Torchwood is somehow at the heart of it all.  A message went out around the world that simply read TORCHWOOD at the exact same time the miracle happened -- it's not a coincidence, but it wasn't from Torchwood themselves, either.  It got Captain Jack's attention, though.  Someone clearly wants to tie the Miracle to Torchwood, but who and for what purpose remains a mystery.  Still, it intrigues Rex enough to go find the surviving members, so that he can extradite them to the United States in connection with the Miracle...

Gorgeously scripted and shot, with fine acting all around and a story that intrigues and doesn't let up, "The New World" is a stylish new beginning for Torchwood.  If they maintain this level of quality over the next nine episodes, Miracle Day will be an absolute winner.

May 27: "A Good Man Goes to War" Prequel / "A Good Man Goes to War"

The prequel is just a quick scene, showing Dorium selling security software to the Headless Monks and cautioning them against angering the Doctor for stealing his best friends' child, but it definitely puts you in the right frame of mind for the main event...

This is a bit of an odd episode to judge, as it's not really a story in its own right; rather, it's part of the overarching plot of series 6.  Except even then it's not quite; we get more information and resolution regarding Amy and Rory's baby Melody, but the big question lurking in the background -- that of the Doctor's death -- is only briefly alluded to.  We'll have to wait for that.

But what "A Good Man Goes to War" does is pull off its troop-gathering with considerable style.  We get some highly incongruous characters -- Rory dressed as a Roman centurion, presumably as a symbol ("the Doctor's idea", Rory tells River), an Earth reptile stopping Jack the Ripper in Victorian England, a Sontaran soldier acting as a nurse by way of atonement for his "clone group" -- all being brought together to fight a war against an enemy whose sole purpose is to stop the Doctor.²³¹  They're terrified of him, and they're preparing for an onslaught.  It's not dwelled upon -- there's the moment where the soldiers are quizzing each other regarding psychic paper, and there's a sign about the sonic screwdriver which reads "REMEMBER: 1. It's not sonic. 2. It's not a screwdriver" -- but it's definitely there.

Because we've had flirtations with the theme before, but this is the first time where they unequivocally state that the Doctor makes enemies and terrifies people, and not just the villains; here we see members of the Church of England, who were the Doctor's allies in "The Time of Angels" / "Flesh and Stone", now working against him out of fear.  Fear of what, we don't exactly know, but fear nonetheless.  Note how Colonel Manton has to reassure the troops that the Doctor "is not the devil.  He is not a god.  He is not a goblin, or a phantom or a trickster.  The Doctor is a living, breathing man", because that needed saying.  The Doctor is a dark legend, and these people are scared of him even as they try to stop him.

Strax, Rory, Lorna, Vastra, and Jenny prepare to fight on
behalf of the Doctor. ("A Good Man Goes to War") ©BBC

However, this is still the Doctor and we're still on his side, and the other side has done worse things to his friends, so it's not like there's a question as to who actually holds the higher moral ground.  And so what we get is a thrilling action sequence, as the Doctor reveals himself in the midst of all the soldiers and then gets them all to leave without killing anyone, all in his pursuit of Amy.  It's a good moment, even if it's later compromised by all the people killed when Madame Kovarian springs her trap.  Plus there's the stuff with Amy and Rory's baby, the suggestion that she's been experimented on (presumably while still in the womb) in order to create a Time Lord to use as a weapon.  "Why would a Time Lord be a weapon?" the Doctor wonders.  "Well, they've seen you," Vastra replies, leading to a slight crisis of conscience for the Doctor, it seems.  But it's still an interesting idea, and the cheat of the Ganger Melody is a good, albeit heartbreaking one.  Madame Kovarian has gotten away for another day.

It's a good, solid episode, with some cool ideas floating around, even if it's not exactly a complete story in its own right.  And it's a hell of a cliffhanger they send off this first half²³² of the season on, with finally the reveal of just who River Song is -- she's Melody Pond, all grown up.  Of course, we still don't know why she's in prison (although we can hazard a guess, based on the clues they've been dropping...), but that will come in time.  "A Good Man Goes to War" remains an entertaining, albeit somewhat transitional, episode.







²³¹ Apparently Ood Sigma was also going to make an appearance but it was cut for time -- but that's why Russell T Davies is credited as the creator of the Ood in the credits.  It seems they also offered a spot for Captain Jack, but he was busy filming Torchwood.
²³² That's something of a first, breaking up a series American-style into multiple runs -- as opposed to a small break over Christmas, which had happened before.  This was allegedly for storytelling reasons, but some have wondered if this was a knock-on effect of the 2008 financial crisis followed by Britain's adoption of austerity, requiring the BBC to have to spread the money out a bit to make it last.  Note how series 7 is also split into two halves but spread over two years, while series 8 (made after the UK eased back a bit on austerity policies, which contributed to some growth for the UK's economy) was back to one single run (albeit an episode shorter).

May 26: "The Almost People"

I don't think that Matthew Graham was actively aping Chris Chibnall when he wrote this story; it's more that they both have similar ideas and similar old Who stories in their DNA, particularly the work of Malcolm Hulke.  But it does mean that this episode, like the last, feels familiar -- and there are little in the way of surprise moments to really wow us.

The two Doctors. ("The Almost People") ©BBC

The best part of the episode is easily the presence of two Doctors, one the original and one a Ganger who nevertheless proves that the Gangers are just as much the people they're copies of as the originals, once they've stabilized.  The interaction of the Doctor with himself is handled well -- none of your Troughton/Pertwee bickering here -- and the small tell of the different shoes is used to great effect.  The first time around, when you see the Ganger Doctor isolated from the rest of the group because of his nature and then you see him lose control and rage -- rage! -- against Amy because of the fates of all the Gangers who were slaved to their hosts, being "decommissioned" and wondering "Why?", is powerful, and it's painful to watch Amy's prejudice against what she deems to be an inferior copy.  The second time around, after you learn that the Doctors changed places (probably while behind that communications console) and it's the original Doctor who feels the Gangers' pain, while the Ganger version remains calm and collected, this becomes much more intense.  It's one thing to see a cloned Doctor lose control; it's altogether more powerful when it's "our" Doctor, and the treatment he undergoes at the hands of the humans is more uncomfortable than it already was.  But that's the point; if even Amy can't actually tell the difference between the two, how can anyone judge the Gangers as being somehow less than people?

That's the core of the story, and they do a nice job of teasing it out without being overbearing about it, but sadly we have to go through a fairly generic story on the way there.  There are some nice moments along the way, such as the Ganger Cleaves pointing out that Jennifer was "a sweet kid.  Look at you now.  The stuff of nightmares," the fate of all the Gangers that didn't quite come out right, and the resolution of the story, where the Gangers essentially say, "Stuff this, what's the point?" and stop trying to kill the humans.

But everything else feels, if not exactly comfortable, at least fairly routine.  We've seen this sort of thing before, and "The Rebel Flesh" / "The Almost People" doesn't have much new or interesting to say.  As I said, there are flashes of greatness, and I like how the story ends with a commitment to change things, rather than for all the Gangers to die, but this frequently feels like a typical runaround.  Still, we're leaps and bounds ahead of "Fear Her", so that's something at least.

Oh, and there's the cliffhanger into the next story, with Amy revealed to be a more sophisticated Ganger who the Doctor destroys (which goes against the whole point of the story, but never mind), while the real Amy is about to give birth (hence the "pregnant"/"not pregnant" readings the Ganger Amy was giving off).  TO BE CONTINUED, the ending tells us, evoking the language of a show that's going to resolve things in a few months, rather than the following week.  But I suppose they were excited about their cliffhanger and wanted to show off.

May 25: "The Rebel Flesh"

Matthew Graham's second story for the show is a lot like Chris Chibnall's last one.  In that story, we got a conflict between humans and Earth reptiles in an isolated area, where both sides do good and bad things and neither comes out as morally superior; here we get a conflict between humans and the doppelgängers they've created in an isolated area, where both sides do good and bad things and neither comes out as morally superior.

The Gangers. ("The Rebel Flesh") ©BBC

Of course, while the basics are largely similar, the devil's in the details, and those details are different enough that this doesn't come out as a pure remake, even if there's frequently a sense of déjà vu.  We get quite a bit of backstory about the Gangers and how they've been created by people to be sort of remote controlled clones, mainly so that we understand what's going on.  But that's good; they've taken enough care with this that we can sort of see the original people's point, even if the episode is set up so that we're unlikely to agree with it.

But as I said, there is that lingering sense that we've already had this story before, so it's nice to see the changes.  The underlying setup is doubly bizarre (there's an island monastery that's mining for acid for some unexplained reason, and solar storms can cause earthquakes and things), but there are some lovely moments.  Rory's treatment of the Ganger Jennifer is really lovely, as he's willing to help her even though she (sort of) tried to kill him earlier, in a fit of anguished anger.  The interaction between the two Jimmys is handled well, as neither of them seem to be violent, and the cliffhanger is the logical conclusion to all the running around with doubles that we see here.

It's not great, but it's moderately entertaining so far.  The question that the next episode is going to have answer, however, is the fate of the Gangers.  If they can avoid killing them all, this might turn into a more interesting story than it initially appears to be.

May 24: "The Doctor's Wife"

In 1983, producer John Nathan-Turner was concerned that he had a fan leak somewhere in the Doctor Who production office, so he laid a deliberate trap: on the planning board in his office, in place of The Caves of Androzani, he wrote "The Doctor's Wife by Robert Holmes" as a fake title to see who would bite.  (I've never heard if anyone did.)  But since that title entered fanlore, it's probably been only a matter of time until a real story under that name would show up.  Fortunately, the story we got was so much better than anything we could have imagined with that title.

"The Doctor's Wife" is by Neil Gaiman, who rivals Douglas Adams for the title of "most famous author to write for Doctor Who" (the other primary contenders are Richard Curtis ("Vincent and the Doctor") and Frank Cottrell Boyce ("In the Forest of the Night")), and it's likely because he's so well-known and highly regarded that they've let him play with the mythology of the show so much.  You can tell that Gaiman has fond memories of the old show -- how else to explain the use of the Time Lord distress cube that we last saw way back in The War Games? -- and that he's drawing on that to write this story.  And so we get a strange entity that tricks Time Lords and feeds on TARDISes, only it's found out that there are no more TARDISes coming, so it's time to head into the real universe from the bubble universe it's inside.

But of course, if you're hiring Neil Gaiman to write an episode for your show, it's probably because you're looking for the qualities that Gaiman brings, that sense of magic mixed with the ordinary, of fantastic situations that characters nevertheless react rationally to, and "The Doctor's Wife" doesn't disappoint on that front.  And so we get the marvelously wonderful and audacious conceit of taking the "soul" of the TARDIS (for lack of a better word) and putting it inside a humanoid body (that of Suranne Jones, who was the Mona Lisa in the Sarah Jane Adventures story Mona Lisa's Revenge), which allows the Doctor to have a conversation with his TARDIS.  But it's not just that; Neil Gaiman takes 48 years of the show's history and turns it on its head:

IDRIS: Do you ever wonder why I chose you all those years ago?
DOCTOR: I chose you.  You were unlocked.
IDRIS: Of course I was.  I wanted to see the universe, so I stole a Time Lord and I ran away.  And you were the only one mad enough.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - The Doctor's Wife)

Idris and the Doctor in the junkyard TARDIS. ("The Doctor's
Wife") ©BBC

A simple, quick piece of dialogue, but it changes our whole understanding of things -- and the episode's filled with lovely little touches like that.  (There's the "Pull to Open" discussion²³⁰, but my favorite bit is how Idris/the TARDIS reminds the Doctor that the first thing he ever said to her was that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever known -- there's something oddly wonderful about imagining Hartnell saying that.)  This is a story that is absolutely in love with the show and the mythology that's been created, but it isn't so reverent that it causes everything to sink.  There's just the right balance to make this feel wonderful and special.

And while we could justly laud the other elements of this story (Amy and Rory's chase through the TARDIS corridors (ooh, TARDIS corridors!  It's been ages since we've seen any of those) is tense and scary, and the mind tricks House is playing on Amy are genuinely creepy; the way Idris thinks that Rory is the "pretty one" is wonderful; the appearance of the ninth/tenth Doctor's "coral" TARDIS console room is thrilling; the way the junkyard TARDIS is the result of a Blue Peter contest; "Fear me, I've killed all of them"; and so much more), ultimately this story is about the one thing always with the Doctor: his TARDIS, the closest thing to a wife we've ever seen him have.  "Look at you pair," Amy says at the end.  "It's always you and her, isn't it, long after the rest of us have gone.  A boy and his box, off to see the universe."  And it is.  And for one brief moment, the Doctor got to talk to his TARDIS and hear her reply.  It's mad, bold, magic, and beautiful, and more evidence that even after 48 years, the show still has the ability to surprise us, and to do so with both style and heart.  Little wonder it won the Hugo.








²³⁰ As many people pointed out after this episode was broadcast, the "Pull to Open" message refers to the door on the phone compartment, not the main door.  But that doesn't actually change Gaiman's point, which is that real police box doors did indeed open outward -- the TARDIS doors open inward because of space concerns in the '60s studio.  (Note, for comparison, that the doors of Tardis open outward in both Peter Cushing films, where floor space isn't an issue.)

May 23: "The Curse of the Black Spot" Prequel / "The Curse of the Black Spot"

The prequel for this episode is suitably tense, as Captain Avery writes of the nameless enemy that's been picking off his crew, one by one.  In fact, it might be better than anything in the episode proper...

The crew of the Fancy wait for the Siren to come. ("The
Curse of the Black Spot") ©BBC

To be fair, for much of "The Curse of the Black Spot" we get a competent episode, as we're confronted with pirates (Captain Henry Avery, in fact, last mentioned in The Smugglers²²⁸), a strange Siren stealing away crewmen, and a ship lying motionless in doldrums.  It also creates an effective atmosphere of dread, as the remaining crewmen are slowly picked off one by one by the Siren -- meaning that their allies are growing fewer and fewer and that every person left becomes that much more important.²²⁹  So there's a sense of murkiness and claustrophobia that pervades the entire episode.  (Which is why it's odd that Steven Moffat moved this episode up from the second half of the series during its filming because he felt the first half was too dark -- apparently he thought this would be a lot more swashbuckling than it actually ended up being.)

But it's an effective atmosphere, and the Doctor's realization that he's gotten wrong the way the Siren appears is rather nice, even if it leads to all sorts of logical problems (so breathing on a medallion is enough to stop the Siren using it, but opening a barrel of water in the middle of a storm isn't).  The only issue is that it's not particularly exciting.  Having them all terrified of the smallest wounds is clever, but it doesn't make for the most thrilling drama, and the sense of terror this creates isn't quite enough to paper over the problem.  You never get the feeling that these pirates will betray each other at the drop of a hat (despite the effort to convey this when Mulligan steals the keys and darts out of the magazine), which is really what this story needs: internal tensions as well as external threats.

None of this is necessarily a dealbreaker, but the story hits a major problem when they transport to the spaceship (and how is it that they weren't hooked up to hospital beds like every other person brought aboard?), and that's the problem of the Siren.  In the best Doctor Who stories, the Doctor should be one step ahead of the audience, or at least coming to significant realizations at the same time, but here we have to wait a painfully long time until the Doctor realizes that this is a hospital ship and that the Siren is trying to help, not harm.  This became pretty clear the moment they stepped into the sickbay and saw that everyone was still alive, but the script insists on having the Doctor believe the Siren is malicious for quite a while, and it makes for tedious viewing that the story never quite recovers from.  It doesn't help that there's a lingering feeling of "so what?" at the end of this -- although that might be more down to the direction than the script itself, as Steve Thompson does try to underline the threat of the Siren reaching the mainland.  But it's a bit too abstract for us the audience to really latch on to.

So there are two problems central to "The Curse of the Black Spot".  The first is that it can't decide if it wants to be a swashbuckling adventure with all the pirate clichés present and correct or a claustrophobic horror movie where trapped survivors are picked off one by one, and so it tries to have it both ways -- but the result is that it doesn't fully succeed at either.  The second problem is that the resolution goes on way too long and doesn't feel particularly satisfying when we learn what's really going on.  Bless them, they did try, but "The Curse of the Black Spot" falls rather short of the standard we've come to expect.







²²⁸ This is actually a coincidence, as writer Steve Thompson simply picked an historical pirate who disappeared without being captured, rather than trying to make an explicit connection.  Nevertheless, as the pirates in The Smugglers are obsessed with finding Avery's treasure, it doesn't seem unreasonable to assume they're talking about the same person as here.
²²⁹ Er, except for the Boatswain, who, somewhat infamously, suddenly disappears from the narrative after we see him barricade the magazine, with no explanation whatsoever.  Because this is Moffat's Doctor Who, where we've already seen last series that "goofs" are just clever bits of foreshadowing, people wondered what the significance of the Boatswain's sudden disappearance was.  But alas, it's just a continuity error, the result of his "death" scene being cut in editing.  And besides, you can see him as one of Avery's crew in their final scene.

May 22: "Day of the Moon"

As dark as "The Impossible Astronaut" seemed, with its killing of the Doctor and investigations of aliens who you can't remember, "Day of the Moon" is much darker.  There's a sense of ratcheting up the paranoia in this episode, as our heroes try to fight an enemy that are almost impossible to learn about and who have been here for thousands of years.  "They've been running your lives for a very long time now, so keep this straight in your head: we are not fighting an alien invasion, we're leading a revolution," the Doctor tells the others.  (So that's another alien species interfering with humanity's development to add to the list.)

The opening scenes are pretty tense, with Amy, River, and Rory covered in tally marks and being hunted by Canton for the last three months²²⁶, while the Doctor is kept in chains at Area 51 and slowly entombed in a building made of dwarf star alloy (with no explanation beyond the hand-wavy "Area 51" reference as to how 1969 Americans came across such advanced technology -- but at least we get a Warriors' Gate reference).  The cliffhanger is barely addressed, other than a brief flashback (to see something we haven't actually seen yet, but it's treated like a flashback) to show that Amy didn't kill the child in the astronaut suit and that Canton sees a Silent there.  It's not actually clear what we're meant to think regarding Canton -- even when it becomes clear that he was just trying to get everyone in a space that the Silents²²⁷ couldn't listen in on, it's still not obvious what his cover story was.  But fine, now it's time to go on the offensive.

The girl in the astronaut suit, flanked by two Silents. ("Day
of the Moon") ©BBC

Honestly, it's a clever plan, even if it feels a bit bloodthirsty by the Doctor's normal standards, and we get lots of moments where people confront the Silents and don't remember it -- the case of Dr. Renfrew in the children's home being particularly well done, as the Silents have been around him so much that he's essentially lost two years of his life.  But it's still rather convenient that they manage to get a recording of a Silent saying that humanity should kill them when they see them.  Nevertheless, it provides for a suitably epic conclusion, as everyone watching the moon landing turns on the Silents in the room with them.

Other parts that are entertaining involve Nixon rescuing the Doctor from various circumstances, while being rather confused by what's going on.  Still, they're fun sequences, and you can tell Steven Moffat is getting a little kick out of the Doctor telling Nixon to record everything, just in case the Silents try to get to him, and inadvertently creating the Nixon White House tapes as a result.  And there's also the exchange between Nixon and the Doctor: "Will I be remembered?" Nixon asks.  "Oh, Dicky.  Tricky Dicky.  They're never going to forget you," the Doctor replies.  Oh, and while we're discussing good moments, the final one between River and the Doctor, where he kisses her for the first time and she realizes it will be the last time she kisses him (because their lives are running in opposite directions), is heartbreaking.

This is an episode that's brimming with the same self-confidence that characterized much of the previous series, but it's also an episode that sees a definite shift in the way the long-running plot threads are treated.  Under Russell T Davies, and even last series to an extent, they were a sort of extra, a little bonus for those willing to stick with an entire run but not necessary for casual viewers to have kept up with.  Here, on the other hand, those plot threads look like they're increasingly the point.  We have an awful lot of unanswered questions here at the end of "Day of the Moon": what's the deal with Amy's pregnancy?  What was up with the lady with the eyepatch?  Who was the little girl, and how could she possibly be regenerating at the end?  Are these Silents related to the TARDIS exploding (it's a good bet they are), and if so, how?  As such it's a bit difficult to adequately evaluate "The Impossible Astronaut" / "Day of the Moon"; the story itself is told with great aplomb, but it trusts that the audience will stick with the series to find out the answers to these lingering questions -- but that puts pressure on subsequent episodes to deliver good explanations...







²²⁶ It's presumably during this time period that Amy is replaced by her double, given the pregnancy comments that (more or less) immediately follow the reunion of the Doctor and Amy.
²²⁷ Another minor controversy: Silence or Silents?  The end credits list Marnix van den Broeke as playing "the Silent", but the DVD subtitles opt for "Silence" every time the aliens are referred to.  It gets more complicated when you factor in later stories, which talk about a religious order called the Silence.  The TARDIS wiki appears to have opted for "Silence" for the order and "Silents" for members of the alien race, which is as good a distinction as any.

May 21: "Space" / "Time" / "The Impossible Astronaut" Prequel / "The Impossible Astronaut"

The TARDIS materialises inside itself. ("Space") ©BBC

Nope, we're still not quite to the official start of series 6 yet, as before we get there we've got two mini episodes (and a prequel scene) to go.  "Space" and "Time" were broadcast on 18 March 2011 as part of Comic Relief, the charity telethon that the series has occasionally contributed to.  (See Doctor Who and the Curse of Fatal Death and "From Raxacoricofallapatorius with Love" in case you've forgotten.)

It's a brief little scene, designed more to be cute than anything more substantial, and at this it succeeds reasonably well.  It helps that we're given a clever idea to play with, with the TARDIS inside itself and no way of getting out, which leads to lots of opportunities for characters to react to themselves -- most memorably, Amy seems oddly taken with herself ("Oh, this is how it all ends," the Doctor remarks.  "Pond flirting with herself.  True love at last"), but the bit where Rory asks himself if he'll have to remember all of what his future self just said is also charming.

It's a quick story that doesn't outstay its welcome, and as such is the perfect sort of thing for Comic Relief.  I suppose you could fault it for not being more ambitious, but the time aspects of this are complicated enough that it was probably a wise move not to push it too far.  A charming interlude.

And then we got a quick little prequel teaser of Richard Nixon informing a girl on a telephone that "there are no monsters in the Oval Office", followed by a shot of a strange alien standing there (although the framing of the shot erroneously suggests that Nixon is aware of the alien standing near him -- as this is Nixon we're talking about, you could be forgiven for thinking he was in league with them), and then finally a month later, series 6 properly begins with "The Impossible Astronaut".

DVD and Blu-ray releases

The episode opens with a caption dedicating it to the memory of Elisabeth Sladen (albeit with the wrong birth year -- Sladen was born in 1946, not 1948), who sadly died four days before its premiere²²⁵ -- it's a sweet tribute to one of Doctor Who's most enduringly popular actresses.  We then get a fun little sequence of the Doctor off doing various things on his own that masks an important sea change: before this point, once you started travelling with the Doctor you stayed with him until you left.  Sure, you might occasionally see him again or be able to call him to help you with your Sontaran problem, but travel in the TARDIS was, with the small exception of Pertwee's companions (who were a special case, what with the exile and all), a one-time deal.  But now we see Amy and Rory, dropped off in their own time and place and living their lives but ready to be picked up again by the Doctor at a moment's notice.  It makes running away with the Doctor less risky, if you know you can go home and then back out again without having to worry.  Of course, now we also have to wonder why anyone ever leaves the Doctor, if this is his attitude now.  (And it's not really a question that we have a good answer for -- we've only had three companions (Amy, Rory, and Clara) since this became the norm, and the show had to bend over backwards to provide an explanation for the first two, and Clara is still at time of writing traveling with the Doctor.)

The Doctor is reunited with Amy and Rory. ("The Impossible
Astronaut") ©BBC

So that's the new subtle difference.  The new obvious difference is the location filming.  Doctor Who has performed principal photography in other countries before, but never in the United States -- and as a resident of that country, it's really thrilling to see recognizable landmarks like Monument Valley and knowing that they're really there.  Doctor Who really is going global.

Now as far as plotting goes, "The Impossible Astronaut" is structured oddly.  The first third appears to be setup not for this actual story but for this series' overarching plotline: the Doctor's impending death, which (because this is a show about time travel) we see early on, as an astronaut shoots him dead in 2011, in front of Amy, Rory, and River.  Only it seems that was an older Doctor, and now a younger Doctor arrives, not knowing about what his friends saw, and they have to try and figure out how to save his life.

All well and good, but then the episode, despite the production team's best efforts to tie these two things together, seems to start again as this two-parter's specific story gets underway, as we head back to 1969 America (so it's not just a quick scene and then we're gone -- the whole story is set in the US) and the time of the moon landing, to meet up with a man named Canton Everett Delaware III.  And so Mark Sheppard makes his move to yet another SF show, after having appeared in things like The X-Files, Star Trek: Voyager, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Supernatural, and a host of others.  Here he's an ex-FBI agent summoned by Nixon to help track down the child who keeps calling him.  Stuart Milligan is a passable Nixon, and after a brief commentary ("Richard Milhous Nixon," River says.  "Vietnam, Watergate.  There's some good stuff, too," she adds.  "Not enough," the Doctor replies.  "Hippie!" River exclaims.  "Archaeologist," the Doctor retorts) the script wisely stays away from any controversial positions, as this story isn't about Nixon.  No, it's about some creepy aliens who look like Edvard Munch's The Scream (an acknowledged influence) and rather wonderfully dress in suits and which no one can remember the moment you stop looking at them, which is a novel and creepy idea.  The death of Joy in the restroom is both funny and frightening, and the total failure of anyone to remember them means that they seem incredibly dangerous.  (They don't appear to be working with Nixon though, as the prequel seemed to imply.)

But answers as to who they are and what they're doing will have to wait, as we've almost reached the cliffhanger.  We've seen a spaceship (presumably belonging to the aliens) that's almost identical to the one from "The Lodger" and River has told Rory about the heartbreak of meeting the Doctor ("The trouble is, it's all back to front. My past is his future. We're travelling in opposite directions. Every time we meet, I know him more, he knows me less. I live for the days when I see him, but I know that every time I do, he'll be one step further away. And the day is coming when I'll look into that man's eyes, my Doctor, and he won't have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it's going to kill me"), which is both sad and strange as we've already seen her die -- so the audience has knowledge that the character lacks, and we know that she's right: it will be the death of her.  But the actual cliffhanger involves an astronaut that we're invited to believe is the same as the one that will kill the Doctor in 2011 -- only there's a young girl inside looking for help.  But that doesn't stop Amy from grabbing Canton's gun and shooting at the astronaut.  "What are you doing?" the Doctor cries.  "Saving your life," Amy replies as she pulls the trigger.  Now that's a cliffhanger.







²²⁵ This caption is missing from the Region 1/A release of The Complete Sixth Series boxset, although a similar caption (with the year corrected) does appear before part one of The Nightmare Man on the fourth series DVD of The Sarah Jane Adventures.  It's not clear why they moved it -- maybe they didn't want the wrong year being perpetuated?

May 20: "A Christmas Carol"

Doctor Who has done Christmas specials before, obviously, but while many of them have been Christmas-y in nature, none have been quite so overt about it as the 2010 one, "A Christmas Carol".  This is emphatically about Christmas, and it makes no secret of its borrowing from Dickens to tell its tale (with Steven Moffat thus subscribing to the Terrance Dicks school of "draw attention to the issue to make it go away" writing).

But because this is paralleling Dickens' most famous Christmas story, there's a danger of this episode feeling derivative or dull -- "A Christmas Carol" may be one of the first time travel stories, but that doesn't mean it's therefore necessarily a natural fit with Doctor Who.  But this episode succeeds because it's so openly admiring of its source material; there aren't any sneers at the set-up or awkward jokes about the underlying idea (or even cracks about giving Dickens the idea in the first place), but rather a sincerity underlying everything here.  Moffat doesn't want to simply adapt Dickens' "A Christmas Carol"; he wants to use it as a starting point and a framework to tell his own version of the tale, and so the result works quite well.  (So here's another example of Moffat following in fine Who tradition.)

I like how it starts out as a sort of disaster movie, as a ship clearly designed to be a parody/homage (delete according to preference) of a Star Trek bridge -- and specifically the one from the 2009 sort-of-reboot version -- is crashing into a planet.  But then the whole story shifts its emphasis; this isn't about the crashing ship, it's about trying to make a man on the planet below a different person, one willing to save that ship.  It's about the Doctor dipping back into Kazran Sardick's past and trying to make him a better man, and having adventures along the way.  This gives Moffat the excuse to play with some time travel ideas (such as the really quite wonderful one of the Doctor leaving the "present" and then walking into the "past" of the video recording while continuing his conversation with the old Kazran) while still maintaining the core of the story.  This is a good move, not taking the mickey out of anything that might now seem too familiar, and the jokes that are present tend to be at the main characters' expense.  And so we get Amy and Rory in their policewoman and Roman costumes, respectively, having apparently just left the honeymoon suite aboard the crashing ship, while there are some great lines regarding the Doctor:

YOUNG KAZRAN: Are you really a babysitter?
DOCTOR: I think you'll find I'm universally recognised as a mature and responsible adult.
(He shows Kazran the psychic paper.)
KAZRAN: It's just a lot of wavy lines.
DOCTOR: (looks at the paper) Yeah, it's shorted out.  Finally, a lie too big.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - A Christmas Carol)

But what really makes this story work is the central character of Kazran Sardick.  The idea of the Doctor changing his history, causing him to start remembering new memories (which is a really weird idea if you think about it -- why wouldn't the changes be instantaneous, and why wouldn't he remember Abigail's fate right away?  On the other hand, City of Death also had some stuff involving changes to the timeline not being instantaneous, so at least there's precedent in the series), is a good one, and Sir Michael Gambon is very very good indeed as the old Kazran.  But it's the case that all three Kazran actors -- Gambon, Laurence Belcher as the young version, and Danny Horn as the teenaged one -- are very well cast, leading us easily to focus on the growing romance between Kazran and Abigail that ends up being the heart of the story.  Katherine Jenkins has such good chemistry with all three versions of Kazran that the audience doesn't have any trouble believing this is the same person at various points in his life interacting with his love.  Plus we get a fun moment from the Doctor:

KAZRAN: I think she's going to kiss me.
DOCTOR: Yeah, I think you're right.
KAZRAN: I've never kissed anyone before.  What do I do?
DOCTOR: Well, try and be all nervous and rubbish and a bit shaky.
KAZRAN: Why?
DOCTOR: Because you're going to be like that anyway.  Might as well make it part of the plan, then it'll feel on purpose.  Off you go, then.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - A Christmas Carol)

Abigail and Kazran watch the snow fall. ("A Christmas Carol") ©BBC

Of course, it's not love that ultimately saves Kazran so much as a desire not to be like his father -- the moments with Abigail have simply turned him bitter for a different reason ("All my life, I've been called heartless," the old Kazran tells the Doctor.  "My other life, my real life, the one you rewrote.  Now look at me."  "Better a broken heart than no heart at all," the Doctor replies.  "Oh, try it, you try it," Kazran sputters), but it's when the young Kazran sees what he'll become that a real, lasting change is made.²²⁴  Because he genuinely doesn't want to be like his father, he finally changes.  It's a nice moment, even if it's soon tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that this will be Abigail's final day alive.  But Kazran's now a better person, and while he'll have to say goodbye to Abigail he'll still get to spend one more day with her.

It really is incredibly Christmas-y at times, but "A Christmas Carol" works because it takes its characters seriously (even if it doesn't necessarily take every moment seriously) and believes in them.  At its heart it's a simple tale of redemption told less-than-straightforwardly, but its sincerity keeps it afloat.  This is an episode that will bring a smile to your face and warm your heart, as it reminds us that Christmas means we're halfway out of the dark. 







²²⁴ You can explain away the lack of an explosion resulting from the Blinovitch Limitation Effect (as seen in Mawdryn Undead) in "The Big Bang" when Amy touches her younger self by arguing that those are two different Amys -- one that grew up in a world with stars and one that didn't, among many other differences.  It's a lot harder to explain why the two Kazrans don't cause an explosion in this episode -- my best guess is that they're also two different people at that moment because the changes to Kazran's timeline haven't caught up with old Kazran yet.

May 19: Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith Parts One & Two (SJA) / "The Eclipse of the Korven" (K-9)

It's rather heartbreaking, watching the first episode of this story -- we're constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding both Ruby White and Sarah Jane's condition, but while we do so we have to endure the sight of Sarah Jane losing her memory and her mental acuity.  In many ways this is the heart of the episode -- once Ruby reveals her true colors, this is largely business as usual, but the scenes leading up to that cliffhanger are really well done.  Elisabeth Sladen does a beautiful job of portraying Sarah Jane slowly losing her grip as she becomes more and more absent-minded -- putting Clyde and Rani in danger because she's forgotten her sonic lipstick is one thing, but forgetting the name of the Doctor?  That cuts right to the heart of the matter, and it really is tough to watch at times.

It's also interesting to see essentially another Sarah Jane Smith running around, in the form of Ruby.  While we know that something's up (I suspected the Trickster, but alas, he's nowhere to be found in series 4), we don't know what, and it's still interesting to see the dynamic between Ruby and Sarah Jane, both when they're suspicious of each other and when they're on friendlier terms.  "They're great kids, but they're a different generation," Sarah Jane tells Ruby.  "I could do with a grown-up friend."  It's a lovely moment, even when you know it's going to go wrong.

Ruby drains Sarah Jane's life essence. (Goodbye, Sarah Jane
Smith Part One) ©BBC

Of course, it's really an alien plot, and as I said, this part of the story is on much firmer ground.  Sarah Jane trapped in a cellar, being digested by an alien stomach that feeds off "life essence" triggered by excitement, isn't exactly the sort of thing that the show has done before, but it does feel like the sort of thing the show could have done before.  I also like how Clyde immediately susses that something's wrong with the idea of Sarah Jane leaving without saying goodbye to even Luke and is trapped in an airless prison cell above the planet for his troubles.  (Although doesn't that violate the Judoon's "don't leave Earth" order?  You'd expect them to come in and arrest Ruby as an accessory...)  It shows that he's clever and loyal, and that it doesn't really matter -- a surprisingly bleak moment for the series.  The farewell message he leaves on his phone is also quite tragic (and he never finishes what he was going to say to Rani -- clearly the writers are playing with this Rani/Clyde thing).

But it's ultimately Rani and Luke who save the day (and hooray!  Tommy Knight's briefly back for more than just a computer screen cameo!), thwarting Ruby's plan to drain Sarah Jane and overloading her with all the excitement of 6 billion people at once.  It's a clever resolution, and we get a suitably sequel-hunting ending, as Ruby vows to get her revenge on the planet.  And the "splurge" on Clyde is a cute moment.

This is an entertaining story, to be sure, but it also has a surprising amount of vulnerability in it as well -- Elisabeth Sladen's performance is really fabulous, and she greatly helps sell the concept.  And while the other bits might feel a bit typical, they're at least done with great style and confidence.  As another story in the series this does really well; as an ending to series 4, Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith is a great choice to close out the run.

Series 4 has been another strong run for the show -- despite the reduced role of Tommy Knight this year, the stories they've been telling haven't suffered at all, and we've in fact gotten a chance to see Anjli Mohindra and Daniel Anthony get more of a focus as Rani and Clyde.  All this, anchored by the ever-reliable and highly watchable Lis Sladen, means that series 4 has maintained (and in some cases even improved) the high level of quality we've come to expect from The Sarah Jane Adventures.

Jorjie, Darius, Professor Gryffen, Starkey, and K-9 observe the
STM. ("The Eclipse of the Korven") ©Screen Australia, Pacific
Film and Television Commission Pty Limited, Park Entertainment
Limited, Cutting Edge Post Pty Limited, and Metal Mutt
Productions Pty Limited

But it's not the only thing that's ending today.  We've now reached the finale of K-9, with an episode that's genuinely good.  This is the moment they really have (sort of) been building up to, as we get a number of disparate threads tied together in this finale.  So we learn more about K-9's regeneration unit, the STM, his connection to the Korven, and the mysterious Lomax who runs the Department.  It's almost like they know this is the last episode -- how else do you explain the awkward story-stopping moment of Jorjie telling Starkey that she has feelings for him, other than to wrap up a plot thread left dangling from "Aeolian"?

But they mix in some genuinely compelling moments.  The best one is Professor Gryffen resolving to save the world even though it means confronting his agoraphobia and heading outside to shut down the STM at the source, as it really is a "punch the air" moment, but there are also things like Thorne being revealed as a Korven agent, helping them to invade (so that's why he's been such a git all the time), or the way K-9 saves the day by making the weird alien beast fight its own natures, which is a clever move.  Or the way Thorne receives his just desserts.

And then the ending goes straight for the feels, with K-9 seemingly dead and there being nothing anyone can do to save him.  All the actors appear to be actually crying during this extended scene, as they all say their farewells to K-9, seemingly forever.  Of course it works out in the end (as the regeneration unit just, er, appears in Starkey's hand), but it's still a really touching scene.

So the series definitely ends strong: "The Eclipse of the Korven" is a compelling episode with an engaging plot and some good performances from everyone involved.  This episode feels like it has a storyline that matters, and so it goes out on a high note.

And so ends this oddest of spin-offs, the one with only the most fragile of ties to technically its parent show, and the only one to date not made by the BBC.  (Or at least the only one that made it to broadcast, as opposed to the BBV stuff.)  The basic premise of the show isn't bad, but all too often, K-9 seemed to have few ambitions beyond standard children's TV fare.  It was rarely outright terrible, but because its sights were lowered, the times it hit the mark weren't as often as they should have been.  This is a shame; some talented people were in front of the camera, and probably could have done more if they'd be given the material.  Robert Moloney was easily the standout as Professor Gryffen, providing a solid anchor for the show and doing some really lovely acting, but we also had fine acting from people like Keegan Joyce as Starkey (once he had a couple episodes under his belt) and Philippa Coulthard and Daniel Webber, who showed that, when given the right stuff, they could easily rise to the occasion.  And as always, John Leeson was on hand to provide his ever-reliable performance as the voice of K-9.

Alas, the ambitions of the show just weren't high enough, and while they finally did start to spread their wings near the end it was too little too late.  The direction the show was going was a positive one, but they only got the one series, and the talk has moved on from "we're going to do a second series" to "we're going to do a reboot", which is a bit of a shame (even if it's understandable).  It was hardly a standout show, but in its own way it could be quite charming.

(All that said, the theme tune of the show might have been the best part -- it's a genuinely catchy piece of music.)

May 18: Lost in Time Part Two (SJA) / "Hound of the Korven" (K-9)

No, this episode is just as odd as the previous one.  We don't get much in the way of complications beyond things like being recaptured; instead, this is a way to have adventures in history with the thinnest of plot rationales.

Sarah Jane and the shopkeeper look at the time window. (Lost
in Time Part Two) ©BBC

The Sarah Jane portion has the least to do with a time period, but the stuff with the future echoes (to borrow a Red Dwarf term) is kind of nice.  I also like the subtle idea that, from the future kids' point of view, they were rescued by a ghost (as Emily must have appeared to them).  But other than that, we get Clyde's brush with a Nazi invasion and Rani learning a bit about Lady Jane Grey and what she was like as a person.

It does help that everything is done really well; for such a small amount of screen time spent in different eras, they do a good job of evoking the time periods, both in sets and in performances.  Everyone behaves the way we sort of intuitively expect them to behave, and this helps carry the day in terms of story and such.

But ultimately the plot is just an excuse to have some time travel without the Doctor or the Rift, and they haven't done a great job of disguising it as any more than that.  The shopkeeper is suitably mysterious, but that sense of mystery regarding his true identity and the nature of the chronosteel does mean that there's little there to hang the plot onto.  Fortunately the actors and the direction help carry the day, but it is a story that leaves you wanting something a bit more substantial afterwards.

But now it's on to K-9, which is almost over.  This penultimate episode, "Hound of the Korven", feels at the time like it should be very significant, but while it ends on something of a cliffhanger and changes the nature of our understanding of much of the show, there's still a sense of unresolvedness here (although hopefully the next episode will address that).

It starts well, actually taking some time to address the events of the previous episode, as Darius sees his father trapped in a VR prison after his arrest last time around.  Thorne wants K-9's regeneration unit (which, you may recall, he was also interested in in "Robot Gladiators") and he's willing to return K-9's memory chip in exchange for it.  There's also some stuff involving Lomax, the head of the Department, ordering that the sewers be mined and filled with a stun gas, even though June argues that there are civilians (three guesses who) down there.

The best part, however, might be the reveal that the Jixen (marked as enemy number one since the beginning of this series) are actually benign.  The conversation between the Jixen and Starkey is pretty good in its exploration of this misunderstanding, and the hints that suggest that K-9 was actually being used by the Korven to hunt the Jixen are interesting.  There are also some extra details to suggest that the Jixen aren't bad (such as the fact that their war with the Meron was apparently an effort to reclaim their home), which are welcome.

But once we learn that, we get a stand-off between the Jixen and a Korven-controlled K-9 (of course the memory chip thing was a scam) that only narrowly avoids killing everyone (although we see that K-9 has a sense of humor: after he overrides the Korven programming telling him to explode in the presence of Jixen, he then resumes the countdown just to see how everyone will react.  "Four.  Three.  Two.  One.  Bang," he says).  It's done decently, but it leaves a lot of unresolved questions.  This means there's quite a bit of pressure on the series finale to wrap some of this up.

However, what we get here is reasonably compelling and surprising, and it leaves the viewers wanting more.  It may have taken the entire run, but it really does look like K-9 has gotten to an objectively interesting and worthwhile place.

May 17: "The Last Precinct" (K-9) / Lost in Time Part One (SJA)

I'm not quite sure what to make of "The Last Precinct".  Maybe it's because the last episode was hinting at something bigger down the line, but it feels like some of the stuff we learn here will also become important in the future.  But that's wrapped inside a slightly disconnected plot about Darius's father running a terrorist organization and taking over Gryffen's house and making everyone inside hostages.

Sgt. Pike issues his demands. ("The Last Precinct") ©Screen
Australia, Pacific Film and Television Commission Pty Limited,
Park Entertainment Limited, Cutting Edge Post Pty Limited,
and Metal Mutt Productions Pty Limited

I suppose Sgt. Pike has noble goals -- he was apparently one of the last police officers before the Department switched over to CCPCs, and he wants to put people back into the policing job -- but his methods don't exactly endear him to anyone, breaking into Gryffen's home and threatening everyone.  Just because it turns out that he actually has a good reason to do all this (since apparently Inspector Thorne's been augmenting all the new CCPCs with some form of modified alien technology, the purpose of which is unknown) doesn't mean that we're really on his side or anything, and as the entire crisis is caused by him and his group the Last Precinct, it's hard to feel any sympathy for him -- even though the ending suggests that's what we should be doing.

But despite the shortcomings of the storyline, all the actors are on fine form -- Daniel Webber does a good job as Darius, confronted with the face of the father who left him in favor of his police crusade, while Chris Betts as Sgt. Pike makes it seem like the police being fired genuinely was the worst thing to happen to him.  And while Thorne once again has stuck his fingers into secret pies, at least Jared Robinsen makes him seem quite threatening.

If only the actual plot was more interesting, this would have been a winner.  As it is, the efforts of the actors almost but don't quite elevate this episode.  It should be something more special than it is, what with Darius's father turning up and shenanigans regarding the CCPCs being exposed, but they just can't quite make it.  Still, it's by no means the worst episode K-9 has produced -- it's just not as good as the last one was.

And now it's back to The Sarah Jane Adventures, with the first part of Lost in Time.  This is a bit of an odd beast, to be honest; there's some sort of strange shopkeeper who lures Sarah Jane, Clyde, and Rani to his shop so that he can send them through a "time window", so that they can each retrieve some sort of metal MacGuffin that could catastrophically change the course of history.  So Sarah Jane is investigating "ghosts" in 1889, Rani is waiting on Lady Jane Grey during her nine-day reign as Queen of England, and Clyde is watching Nazis land in Britain on 7 June 1941.  It basically looks like an excuse to play around with three different time periods -- very Whoish, but at this point the special "chronosteel" metal that has the power to change time really does just look like a MacGuffin.  Clyde's the only one who actually sees the piece he's meant to find, as it's powering some secret Nazi weapon (although it's possible the dagger that Rani sees Matilda procure is also chronosteel), while Sarah Jane is more concerned with hearing voices from the future (the "ghosts") and listening as the voices apparently set the locked room they're in on fire in said future.  All while the shopkeeper watches their exploits and frets that "we need the chronosteel now.  And the sands have almost run through.  If Sarah Jane and her friends do not return soon, they'll be trapped in the past.  Forever."

So it's sort of hard to judge this episode, seeing as how we still haven't gotten to the main thrust of the plot by the end of part one.  It does look like an excuse to explore a couple eras of history, which is nice, but even then we haven't gotten a complete handle on these eras yet -- Rani's part is probably the most fleshed out, while Sarah Jane's feels like it could be almost anywhen.  So we'll have to see how the rest of this story pans out...

May 16: The Empty Planet Parts One & Two (SJA)

Not that was really any doubt, but the nice thing about The Empty Planet is that it ably demonstrates that Clyde and Rani can carry a story pretty much on their own.

It's an effectively eerie idea, having the entire planet essentially abandoned -- it brings to mind movies like 28 Days Later (as well as Doctor Who's own takes on the subject, including The Dalek Invasion of Earth and Invasion of the Dinosaurs), with its cities devoid of life. Even if these moments in this story don't quite reach those same heights (as, other than a shot of a quiet London skyline, we don't get shots of famous landmarks looking abandoned), it's still very well done.

The first part focuses more on this feeling of isolation and abandonment, as Rani and Clyde try desperately to find anyone else at all still around. There's an interesting sense of chemistry between the two of them in a way that we haven't really seen before -- almost a romantic quality. This might partly be because they keep bringing up the "Adam & Eve" stuff, but it's still a new side to the characters. It's not the entire thrust of the episode, however, as they also encounter one other boy, Gavin, who was left behind, even if they can't figure out why he too remained.  "Is Gavin normal, though?" Clyde wonders.  "When I was alone, I thought I was the only one left.  It was horrible.  If I'd seen anyone else, even if it was Chris Moyles, I would have run towards them, not away, like Gavin did.  Wouldn't you?"  "Yeah," Rani replies.  "But when you were that age, sixth form kids looked big and scary."  "I'm not big and scary," Clyde argues.  "And that flat, apart from one photo, was there anything that said a kid lives here?  No kids' DVDs lying around, no photos of them with him.  And his room, it was like a cell.  No computer games or anything.  Isn't that weird?"  "Then we should feel sorry for him, not start judging him," Rani responds.  "He lives a really rubbish life, and what's our first reaction?  Oh, maybe he's an alien.  What are we?"

Gavin with the two robots. (The Empty Planet Part Two) ©BBC

And then we get some genuinely impressive robots tracking them down -- they're a really great design and they're very well realized.  Their appearance also changes the nature of the story somewhat. It's no longer just about being alone, it's also about avoiding the robots. Although it seems the robots aren't actually evil -- they're just trying to find the heir to the throne of their homeworld, which is Gavin. (I guess they thought he'd be easier to find if they got rid of all the humans?) But it takes a while for our heroes to realize that, so we get some nice chases and some fun disbelief dialogue from Gavin, as he tries to keep up with what Rani and Clyde are saying, as they try to work out why they were left behind, bringing up time travel and the TARDIS and the Judoon, while Gavin just listens on in sort of amazement.  "You keep saying these really stupid words," he says at one point.  "If you're so clever, why can't you just go out and stop the robots?"  But of course that's what happens.  It's a good move, making Gavin as much an innocent as anyone else in this story -- no one has any sinister motives, and it all ends very happily.

So overall this is a nice little story focusing on Clyde and Rani, the "hangers-on" of Sarah Jane's group, who nevertheless prove to be more than capable of handling this latest problem. The Empty Planet is a fun story with a satisfying plot and a pleasing resolution.

May 15: Death of the Doctor Part Two (SJA) / "Angel of the North" (K-9)

(Today marks the 500th day I've been watching Doctor Who and writing this blog about it.  I haven't missed a day yet; I'm pretty proud of that...)

The Shansheeth really are a great creation, aren't they?  Their heads appear to be animatronic, with only limited movement, but because the design is so expressive they get away with it -- and I love how they seem to have a sort of hunched back.

In terms of plot, Death of the Doctor Part Two isn't terribly exciting.  The Shansheeth capture Jo and Sarah Jane and force them to remember the TARDIS key so that they can access the TARDIS and head out into the universe and "stop death" -- apparently this branch of the Shansheeth are tired of being the galaxy's undertakers.  (And, interestingly, Davies is going to return to this idea of stopping death very soon -- but that's for another day.)  And that's about it for evil plans.  In terms of story, however, this episode has a lot going for it.  We get the UNIT base being locked down, while the Groske tells them to follow him, only to find that's so they can get to his pizza before it gets cold.  "What?  I thought you had a plan," Clyde exclaims.  "Shansheeth too scary," the Groske replies.  "We hide."  We also get Jo and Sarah Jane accompanying the Doctor back to that red place, the Wasteland of the Crimson Heart, so that the Doctor can properly travel to Earth without swapping with Clyde, where they all have a nice conversation, as Jo wonders why the Doctor never came back, only to learn that the Doctor had been looking in.  "Because you're right, I don't look back," he tells her.  "I can't.  But the last time I was dying, I looked back on all of you.  Every single one.  And I was so proud."  It's a touching moment, and I really like the idea that David Tennant went back and looked in on all of his companions, not just the tenth Doctor ones, at the end of The End of Time.  And then there's the quick conversation between the Doctor and Clyde:

CLYDE: Even your eyes are different.  It's weird, cos I thought the eyes would stay the same.  Can you change colour or are you always white?
DOCTOR: I could be anything.
CLYDE: And is there a limit?  How many times can you change?
DOCTOR: Five hundred and seven.

(from The Sarah Jane Adventures Transcripts - Death of the Doctor, part two)

(Although of course now we know that the Doctor was simply being flippant with his response to Clyde, as "The Time of the Doctor" confirmed.)

The Doctor, Jo, and Sarah Jane in the TARDIS. (Death of the
Doctor Part Two) ©BBC

Everyone's on fine form here, and while the memory weave plot looks like an excuse to use a slew of clips from old Doctor Who, new Doctor Who, and The Sarah Jane Adventures, the clips are all incredibly brief (although they did manage to slip in Patrick Troughton and William Hartnell from The Three Doctors, in addition to the various Pertwee, Baker, and Tennant clips) and serve the narrative (as opposed to the clip show K-9 recently gave us in "Mind Snap").  Plus it really is incredibly exciting for some reason to see the old stuff referenced in the new.

But then that's sort of the heart of the story.  Doctor Who under Russell T Davies was always a show that retained the same basic concept and spirit of the original while constantly looking forward.  This, however, feels like his love letter to the old days, a way to reunite old friends and learn about the fates of others.  "I do a little search sometimes," Sarah Jane says, when Rani wonders about other past companions of the Doctor.  "I can't be sure, but there's a woman called Tegan in Australia, fighting for Aboriginal rights.  There's a Ben and Polly, in India, running an orphanage there.  There was Harry.  Oh, I loved Harry.  He was a doctor.  He did such good work with vaccines.  He saved thousands of lives.  And there's a Dorothy something.  She runs that company, A Charitable Earth.²²³  She's raised billions.  And this couple in Cambridge, both professors.  Ian and Barbara Chesterton.  Rumour has it, they've never aged.  Not since the sixties.  I wonder."  Even if all these characters couldn't be there in person, they're still around in spirit.  It's a beautiful idea, and the whole story is filled with this sense of love for the old days.

It may not have the most exciting plot, but it's carried off with great style in what proved to be Russell T Davies' only time writing for the eleventh Doctor.  That sense of joy and love and adventure means that Death of the Doctor is definitely a winner.

But now it's back to K-9.  "Angel of the North" is also by Bob Baker, but this one's not a clip show.  No, instead Baker has decided to write a surprisingly interesting episode that plays with much of what the series has established.  This is a good thing.

Thorne and his CCPCs take Gryffen outside in a special
agoraphobia-proof suit. ("Angel of the North") ©Screen
Australia, Pacific Film and Television Commission Pty Limited,
Park Entertainment Limited, Cutting Edge Post Pty Limited,
and Metal Mutt Productions Pty Limited

The premise is simple: something is causing havoc with both the STM and K-9, and Gryffen thinks it's linked to the crashed alien spacecraft that the STM originally came from -- there might be a piece of the machine still there.  But as the ship is located in Canada and K-9 doesn't seem particularly interested in checking it out, Gryffen has to resort to other ways of getting to the ship.  This means confronting his agoraphobia and finding a way over there.  (Oddly, everyone in the episode keeps talking about heading north, as if Canada had somehow moved to north of London.)

The thing that's most striking about the episode is how seriously it takes things.  There's little of the standard children's TV approach that has often characterized K-9 up to this point; instead, characters behave as they would behave as people, instead of as cyphers of some kind.  Thus Gryffen's agoraphobia is a plot point, Starkey's bravery is treated as self-evident, with little need for congratulation, and Thorne (and the Department) finally make sense in this context, as they're interested in the alien technology for their own ends, rather than just being behind every plot because that's their plot function.  And we get some tantalizing hints for the future: the STM is a Korven ship, with a whole mess of Korven still on board, and (oddly) K-9 seems to be connected in some way, and Thorne is taking orders from his shadowy boss Lomax, who seems far too interested in the STM -- particularly in light of the revelation regarding the Korven...  It's also really nice to get into some new sets, as Gryffen, Starkey, and K-9 wander through frozen corridors, pursued by Thorne and by Korven.

It's slightly tempting to say that K-9 has been building up to this point, but that's not really true: K-9 hasn't really been building to anything up to this point, but suddenly they've started to snap some things into focus.  By giving us a better-written episode than we've been getting and playing with some of the established pieces, Bob Baker and the production team (led by director James Bogle) turn out a surprisingly engaging episode that starts to hint at the idea that maybe it was a worthwhile endeavour to make this series.  Is it too much to hope that this feeling will last?







²²³ The fact that the acronym for A Charitable Earth is ACE suggests that this is indeed the seventh Doctor companion -- as does the reference to "Dorothy something", a sly joke regarding the question of Ace's surname.  The story goes that the original intention was to give her the same last name as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, which would be Gale (and this makes sense in the larger context of the names in Dragonfire), but when Paul Cornell, writing the New Adventure No Future, asked someone what Dorothy's last name in The Wizard of Oz was, that someone misremembered it as "Bucket", so Cornell, in conjunction with Kate Orman -- who was working on the upcoming novel Set Piece -- chose "McShane" instead, as they weren't going to make Ace's last name be Bucket.  All fine and good until BBC Books got the novel licence --  at which point they commissioned Mike Tucker and Robert Perry to write a couple books.  Tucker and Perry, unaware of the "McShane" name chosen by the Virgin authors, went with the original intention of Gale -- which meant that for a while Ace was running around with two surnames, depending on who you asked.  Mark Michalowski eventually resolved this in his novel Relative Dementias by establishing her full name as Dorothy Gale McShane.