It’s not Who, it’s me…

I need to address something, but it’s not a Christmas card

A rough night in 'Space Glasgow'

This year’s series of Doctor Who has been “the best ever” (TM).  At least, I’m told it’s been “amazing” (TM), Capaldi has “knocked it out of the park” (TM), the two-parters format has been “a triumph” (TM).

As I say, I read and hear this , but, with the exception of Mr Capaldi, I just haven’t felt it. 

This is the first post about this year’s series which I’ve written, I still haven’t seen at least one episode, and I only finally saw the finale a few days ago; weeks after it screened. Even when I did get the rare opportunity to watch an episode as broadcast, I happily let my Dad watch the soccer on another channel without a single word said. 

Peter Capaldi himself has just had a well-deserved holiday in New Zealand - during which time he must have gamely posed for photographs with every fan within these shores.  Did I see him speak in Auckland, try to find him, follow his progress, feel envy at everyone else’s ‘Cap snaps’?

To quote the man himself in Local Hero: “Nyet, ni nada..."

Call myself a fan?  Well, that’s just it… I don’t think I have been this year.  Of Capaldi? Always. Of current Doctor Who? Well, not really, no.

It might have been the first episode which did it - may we never have to suffer so colossally self-indulgent a scene as that one again (those of you who’ve seen it and somehow convinced yourselves you like that sequence know what I’m talking about).  

When I was 13 I tried to write an (appalling) Doctor Who film script.  In it, the Doctor picks up an electric guitar, idly strums it, considers tuning it, and puts it down again.  A throw-away scene demonstrating the visual dichotomy between an outwardly mature British Gent, and an Alien cutting across social convention with a curiosity and adeptness for almost everything. It was a few seconds, tops, just a brief opener.

I doubt it would make anyone walk out, as my wife, hardened viewer,( if not quite ‘enjoyer’), of the programme for the last decade, did during episode one of series 9.  And she’s not coming back.

Of course it makes me a bit sad, but I really couldn’t blame her either.

As it turned out, the ‘return of Davros’ story was fine, Michelle Gomez was as terrific as ever, the opening scenes on Skaro were lovely.  

It was fine.  

The following story was also fine, maybe slightly less so.  The next one a little bit less fine, the one after that I can’t really remember much of.  I hear it had brocading in it and I’m sure it was fine too.

For various reasons I had to miss the first part of the Zygon story.  I gathered all I needed from the recap at the start of the second part, and really enjoyed this one.  I saw only half the story and it was my favourite so far!  Hmmm… what does that say about the two-parters?

Most agree the next one wasn’t fine, except for the Doctor Who Magazine reviewer who tries to be as clever as Steven Moffat in his reviews, and sometimes succeeds.

Clara dies in the next one and I really did sit up and pay attention.  Because, although this series has been fine, Jenna Coleman has been bloody amazing this year and I’m really going to miss her.  I realise this right at the end.  Sigh, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.  It also had a flying TARDIS scene and I’m a sucker for those.

The next one was also very self indulgent.  But Fans are still singing it’s praises so I’m obviously wrong.  And that’s fine.

Like the Zygon story. I loved half of the series finale, but this time it was the first half.  The Gallifrey stuff was wonderful - I never realised a Western in Who could work so well! (and the Ennio Morricone-style take on ‘The Doctor’s theme’ - sublime!)  Right up until the stolen retro-TARDIS I’m having fun, and then it becomes a talk fest until they finally stop talking.  I don’t think I’m an idiot (not ALL the time).  I don’t need explosions and monsters in every scene. I like a bit of talk.  

A … bit… of talk.  

But it was fine. Apparently the story is very pro-feminist and that is more than fine.  It is also exquisitely directed by Rachel Talalay and has a character played brilliantly by both a man AND a very beautiful black woman.

The renegade returns to bring Law and Order to his hometown...

We have the best Doctor in a very, very long time and have just said goodbye to an equally good companion. 

However, this might also just be me, but I think the programme itself needs an overhaul, or even a rest.  

Or maybe I need the rest. Because I’m tired of stories which disappear up their own bottoms like some smirking Ouroboros, bringing deceased characters back to life every other week and steadfastly refusing to tell a story with a beginning, middle and end in the usual order.

Instead of entertained, I am more often tricked, huckstered, disorientated and maybe made to feel a little less bright than I did at the start.  Instead of being educated by what I’m watching, I’m more often baffled.

I’m tired of ‘clever’, I’m not that clever. I just want a story anyone can follow, which makes ‘sense’ within the generally accepted parameters of the word.  A tale which satisfies the viewer whether they be seven or seventy, and leaves us believing we’ve just spent 45 minutes well.

The current programme makers might argue Doctor Who has to be more than that now.  If that’s true I’d have to conclude that I have a new understanding of the programme’s title.  It’s ‘Doctor Who’(?) because sometimes I don’t recognise it any more.

But this isn’t new.  And it’s not the first time I’ve walked away for a little while, either, (sorry, Colin Baker).

However, I re-watched an episode last weekend, and despite it being rudely cut short by a dog attack, (it’s OK, we got there in time and the chickens are all fine), I really enjoyed it.  So perhaps that’s the answer. 

It’s the season of peace and goodwill so, although it will be of absolutely no consequence to anyone but myself, I’m going to give Doctor Who: Series 9 another chance. (And if it doesn’t work, there’s always 50 years of better stories to revisit).

Charting a course for the past might be the best direction for the next series to head?

Time and Relative Dimensions of Ape

I once saw Doctor Who in a film whose plotting makes the current series look wholly unremarkable and conservative by comparison.

Doctor Who is back, and during the flurry of frenetic out-of-sequence incidents which serve as season openers these days, (yes, I've become a grumpy old fan) I found myself wistfully recalling a time when his appearance was a complete surprise.

Back when I was at school they used to show films at lunchtime - actual cinematic releases (of a certain vintage) which were usually screened over two or three consecutive days in winter.  One otherwise ordinary Monday we listened  unenthusiastically as our 4th form teacher read the morning notices, but he suddenly got my full attention with the final item that the lunchtime film was King Kong.

Already being a geek my first thought was "Which one?"  I assumed the 76 version was a safe bet, and friends and I paid our 50 cents at the door, finding seats in a surprisingly packed AV room and expecting a grubby pre-pubescent fix of Jessica Lange.

The production was in colour but opened with a model submarine passing over the camera before the unforgettable title King Kong Escapes blazed across the screen.

As I say, I was a geek and knew exactly what we were in store for, and the film didn't disappoint. 'Suit-mation' antics abounded, with karate-kicking dinosaurs, variable model effects, a giant robotic Kong and badly dubbed Japanese actors.   This was the second and final Japanese Kong film from the legendary Toho Studios, and so gloriously awful that it was actually great fun. Each lunch-time session was packed out and for the first time ever a repeat evening screening was arranged.

But my favourite part was the ripple of surprise which passed over the teenage audience when all-American hero Rhodes Reason deduces the identity of the villain behind the sub 'spy-fi' evil scheme which the vaguely ties the series of monster suit scuffles together:

"... it's that international Judas, Doctor Who"

There is an infamous quote from a producer at the BBC when having first heard the proposed title of their new science fiction series for children, stating he thought Doctor Who sounded like a Chinese restaurant.  Casual racism aside the name has perhaps always had a vaguely oriental sound (in fact, the character my or may not be named as 'Dr. Hu' in the King Kong Escapes end credits, depending upon which source you refer to).  So it's all simply a strange co-incidence, of course.

Except... distinguished character actor Hideyo Amamoto is decked out in a silver wig, occasional cape and something very like an astrakhan cap, looking for all the world like an evil eastern first Doctor.

Doctor Who (left) and Doctor Who

This film was made in 1967 and the impact of the television series and the Cushing films would have been felt, particularly in Britain where the soundtrack for King Kong Escapes was recorded.

So, a clear and present link between King Kong and Doctor Who? As wonderful as that would be, unfortunately, it seems not.

King Kong Escapes was actually based upon, of all things, an American animated children's series(the first ever to be produced in Japan) called the King Kong Show.

Running from 1966 to 1969 it was here that the character of  Dr. Who was introduced, and he looked like this:

Dr Who

The King Kong Show was heavily influenced by another British institution, down to the surname of the family who befriend the titular giant ape: Bond.  And the recurring villain with his Ernst Blofeld tendencies appears to be simply named in reference to the first screen James Bond villain: Dr No.

So, with a Roger-Moore-like eyebrow waggle, 007 wins the day again?  Perhaps, but still, looking at Mr Amamoto again you really have to wonder...

"Turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so,  hmmmm?"

The OMG Factor

Everyone seems to have their own favourite half-remembered pre-runner to the X-Files.  This is mine, it's set in Edinburgh, and 'The truth is oot there...'

A red-headed female operative teaming up with an obsessive driven by the mysterious loss of a family member, working for a shadowy Government funded organisation which investigates the supernatural?

Inter-departmental conspiracies, a mysterious inner-circle informant and a title starting with 'The' then a letter of an alphabet, and finishing with a word starting with 'F'?

Now that the parallels with the adventures of agents Mulder and Scully have been well-and-truly stretched, laboured and over-egged, I'm going to forget all that.

Louise Jameson as Anne Reynolds and Jamres Hazeldine as Tom Crane, on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh.

Instead I'm going to try to remember what The Omega Factor, a forgotten 1979 BBC Scotland gem was like when I was 14 and staying up very late to watch what Louise Jameson did after Doctor Who, when everyone else had gone to bed. Of course I remember the actress formerly known as Leela in fetching roll neck sweaters, but to be honest everything else is a little vague. I recall some genuinely unnerving moments in the earlier episodes, but a feeling that it all meandered a little as the series progressed. And ultimately the final episode seemed to have too many revelations about which side everyone was actually on to really deliver a satisfying or credible ending.

 This was the very beginning of ridiculously distant 1981, and combined with the fact that I felt as if I was the only person in the entire country who stayed up to watch, this odd little programme really should have completely slid from even my televisual total recall.

Surely the only spin-off this series would ever see?

But towards the end of that year I happened across a book in a second hand shop which purported to be a tie-in to The Omega Factor series. To be honest I didn't expect much from this tatty paperback, and was very surprised to find that it was actually brilliant. Written by series creator Jack Gerson it followed the events of his opening episode, but them diverged completely from the rest of the programme (mainly the work of other writers), to deliver instead a taut and scary supernatural thriller (I recall thinking at the time that t was a little like a contemporary Dennis Wheatley tale, but better). I imagined it was what the television serial was meant to be like - if it had been afforded the budget it so clearly lacked.

What I remember most about the novel, though, was the writing. I was about to sit School Certificate English, (in fact, I wrote a book review of The Omega Factor as part of my exam), so knew next to nothing about good prose, but Gerson's storytelling spoke to me. Particularly his evocation of the relationship between main character Tom Crane and his wife, Julia. A chapter describing an idyllic Sunday morning, rising late to lounge around together surrounded by Sunday papers and the smell of freshly brewed coffee is made to sound like heaven. So much so that I think I might have decided way back then that this was the kind of relationship I wanted to aspire to, to be part of a marriage where just being together was the best possible way to spend time.

I might have re-read the book once in preceding years, and it eventually joined a stack of volumes relegated from the bookshelf to a cupboard, left be forgotten. Except that's not quite true: passages from it would still pop into my mind sometimes: Crane's well-drawn, coarse but loveable contacts and associates, his long grieving after he loses Julia in a supernaturally instigated road accident and the final confrontation when somehow she reaches from beyond to help Crane prevail.

Tom Crane confronts Edward Drexel, played by Cyril Luckham.   Drexel's  mute acolyte
 Morag in the background was played by the series creator's daughter, Natasha Gerson,
who reprises her role in the Big Finish audio production.

I hadn't realised just how much of this story had stuck with me until Big Finish released a talking book adaptation last year, read by none other than original star Louise Jameson.

The shockingly familiar passages recounted in her equally recognisable voice brought it flooding back - of all the books to have subconsciously memorised it had to be this one?

This adaptation was the 'pilot' of a new audio range of full cast dramas from this prolific company, and I had the chance to listen to the first series of new Omega Factor stories last weekend.

The Omega Factor audio release teams Anne Reynolds with Tom Crane's son, Adam, and it is sublime.
(I just wish they'd kept the original logo).

I had half expected it to be a direct continuation, set in the late '70s and following up on James Hazeldine's Tom Crane and Jameson's Ann Reynolds straight after the events of the television series. However, this box set of stories is set solidly in 2015 and the revelation that many of the original characters had since passed away, including Tom Crane (and alas, actor James Hazeldine) hit me like a frost-coated brick. Although I have a very special birthday next year it isn't often that I feel old, but this was one of those moments where I really understood that the definition of nostalgia is being hurt by the past. We've all become accustomed to some extent to real people dying of old age, but when it starts happening to fictional characters we knew from childhood then time really has passed!

I won't attempt to review the box set here, as that isn't the purpose of this already over-long post, but I will say that The Omega Factor sets a new height in Big Finish's already lofty standards of production, writing and performance. Thoroughly entertaining and scary, it's everything a continuation of this obscure little series should be - and much more.

The Greek letter Omega doesn't quite describe a full circle, and hopefully that will also hold true for 'PSI: Edinburgh' - that this is just the beginning, an 'Alpha', of many new adventures.

Listening Post

The best things in life are free

I imagine I was pretty late in discovering podcasts: regular, largely non-professional downloadable audio episodes in a themed series.

 Thanks to the generosity of of friends, I've been listening to audio books and dramas for many years but was suspicious the first time I was offered a podcast episode.  Why would I want to listen to the opinions of some fan with a microphone, who did he think he was packaging his own views up into an episode and apparently expect the same attention as a professional product?

In this case that fan with a microphone was Jim Moon of the Hypnogoria (formerly Hypnobobs) podcast, and I was extremely fortunate to have had the chance to begin with one of the very best available.  His in-depth analysis and sheer love of the two Doctor Phibes films hooked me straight away and I've listened to a huge part of his output since.  Moon has a perfect voice for radio, a bottomless knowledge of genre fiction of every kind and, best of all, seems to always strive to take as positive a view as possible of the material he's looking at.

http://www.hypnogoria.com/html/podcast.html

One thing Hypnogoria has done for me is re-ignite my love of all things Hammer, and that was how I stumbled upon another first-class podcast, pretty much by mistake.  Searching under the name of that studio, I came across Hammered Horror, a show consisting of the two British hosts discussing a more obscure and perhaps unloved genre film - usually in a pub, (hence the 'hammered').  This podcast is a delight, ranging from comprehensive analysis to gleefully immature (and always hilarious) commentary which conjures many happy memories for me watching similar (and sometimes the same) films with friends.

http://www.hammeredhorror.net/?cat=3

In terms of another life-long interest of mine, I enjoy the Verity podcast, a revolving round-table discussion about Doctor Who by a group of women (who'd ever have imagined?) from Canada, the US, Australia and Scotland. Verity unsurprisingly has a feminist approach to its analysis which I generally enjoy, and works best when agent provocateur Liz Barr from Kirkcudbrightshire is onboard. Verity is smart, positive and creative, but the multiple contributor format can result in an uneven airing of views at times, despite Deborah Stanish's excellent moderating.

http://feeds.feedburner.com/VerityPodcast

Hearing that one of the Verity contributors also hosted a Babylon 5 podcast, I went looking for it. I failed to find hers but did stumble across the Babylon Podcast, one of the earlier ventures into this internet medium and surely the definitive cast about the legendary mid-nineties programme.  This is due to one of the co-hosts having been a regular character on the series itself, and able to get all of the Babylon 5 cast and crew members as guests in lengthy, entertaining and very candid interviews. On top of this co-host Summer Brookes has one of the loveliest voices online.

http://www.babylonpodcast.com/

For more mainstream science fiction cinema, the Science Fiction Film Podcast has been a delight.  It is irreverent, and borderline tourettes-syndrome in its language at times, but co-host Dean has an astonishing talent for mimickry. Effortlessly able to impersonate the entire cast of The Wrath of Khan, for example, his gift immeasureably enhances enjoyment of this cast which mixes well-researched commentary with exuberant enthusiasm for the subject.

http://www.libertystreetgeek.net/

Not every punt on a new podcast has paid off, unfortunately.  One particular cast which is an adjunct to a magazine I loved in my younger years proved to be a huge disappointment. Venal, vulgar and sanctimonious, it was a waste of data useage which I will not be repeating.

I'm happy to be able to end on a happy note though. In terms of Hammer films I have finally achieved Nirvana with 1951 Downplace. Perhaps surprisingly, it is hosted by three Americans, but their depth of knowledge and love for this most British of institutions is peerless. This podcast has covered a Hammer production each month since, and doesn't just confine itself to their horror films, but the studio's entire output. This cast is painstakingly edited, themes of any other film touched upon swimming up in the background, along with the running gag of the Captain Kronos theme sting blaring every time that production is mentioned in passing. A hilarious discussion proprosing a title sequence for the 'Hammer A-Team' of Professors Van Helsing and Quatermass, Captain Kronos and Father Sandor with the entire A-Team theme playing in the background had me gasping for breath with laughter when I listened to it while out for a run.

http://1951downplace.com/

Say what you like about genre film and TV fans, their boundless creativity does at least allow them to share enthusiasm in lovingly crafted, skilfully produced and entertaining ways, which the rest of us can enjoy, for free!

What a wonderful world

What do Spider-Man, the Loch Ness Monster and German Opera have in common?

I have a large collection of hardback books which, when we finally have our much-discussed living room shelf unit built, will never be allowed to abide there.  And this isn't an issue of age-restricted material (unless you count the barely fettered decolletages of the Hammer ladies) but more one of minor embarrassment to my wonderful wife.  Yes, she'll watch any old tosh with me if I pick my moment, but to have shelves full of books devoted to horror, science fiction  and fantasy films and television in full view of visitors who might have otherwise thought we're normal, seems to be a bridge too far.

So solid, respectable tomes about gardening, travel, history, handicrafts and, if I'm lucky, astronomy will make the living room bookshelves creak instead, while my extensive but slightly worrying collection will remain fittingly hidden away from sunlight.

Like the creatures within their pages, these books might be sometimes shunned and misunderstood, but my Mum actually started this collection, buying me my first 'coffee table book' about monsters when I was still having single digit birthdays.
 

And what a book it was, becoming a treasured possession all through my life. Despite being a clumsy and often absent minded person I somehow manage to take incredibly good care of my books, and my copy of this particular volume: The Horrific World of Monsters, still looks as if it could have been bought yesterday.

I've been to Bran Castle, alleged by this book to be the birthplace of
Vlad Tepes, and it really is as pretty as it looks in this inset.

I've amassed many books on the same subject since but this one remains a curiosity, in the best possible way.  First of all, the creatures within are arranged alphabetically, an unusual move which you think might spell disaster when you reach less fertile letters.  But not this book. Not only did it cover the expected Universal and Hammer monsters but also creatures born of every old world mythology - from the British Isles, through Scandinavia, Europe and the ancient Mediterranean, Egypt and the Middle East, Asia and then into Russia. As an introduction to classical and medieval myth and legend alone (illustrated with art from the likes of Goya, Tibaldi and Bosch), this book was worth its weight in golden Fleece.

But this was just the beginning, true believers.  In my last post I 'came out' as someone who prefers to 'make mine Marvel', and that might stretch all the way back to this book.  Because also within its pages were Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the Hulk and numerous Stan Lee spawned super-villains. It seems insane, but page 86 for example gives us this bewildering spectrum of subjects: Redcap and the Roc from British and Islamic folklore respectively, The Reptile from Hammer, Spider-Man's minor nemesis the Rhino and Tolkien's Ringwraiths. How wonderfully bonkers is that?

The 'Horrific' Four (coming to a cinema near you soon), sharing a page with the Fly,
Frankenstein, a Wagnerian Opera and an Irish feathered cyclops.

Still want more? Well, dinosaurs obviously, all photographs of 'life-like' models, as many of the books from the mid-seventies liked to use. But possibly the best was still to come: Television wasn't to be neglected, with Quatermass and Star Trek touched upon, but Doctor Who's big three: the Daleks, Cybermen and Ice Warriors were  each given lavish picture spreads. This officially made The Horrific World of Monsters The Best Book Ever.

Good luck spotting this scene from the  Doctor Who story the caption says it's from. 
I think it might actually be a publicity shot from a BBC exhibition - but it's still brilliant.

From it's atmospheric cover painting, with 'likenesses' of Lee, Karloff and Chaney just the right side of copyright infringement and a devil tail on the bright yellow title lettering, to the distinctly '70s typography throughout, this book was patient zero of my life-long disorder regarding books, monsters and books about monsters.

I'll be disinterring many other volumes never to be seen in our Living Room in posts to come.

State of Decade

It's been a decade today since 'Nu Who' debuted in in New Zealand.
I'm celebrating by nicking an idea from the latest DWM and picking a favourite moment from each of the years since the TARDIS returned.

"The first episode of the new Doctor Who was smashing, with strong characters, great and gimmicky special effects and a plot so wildly ridiculous it drew me in completely. The steely Christopher Eccleston plays the doctor as a cross between the saviour of the universe and a stand-up comedian, but this doctor really knows his Tardis from a plastic life force.

Former pop singer Billie Piper is a sparkling actress, although her character, Rose, is a little impetuous. She left her boyfriend... and confidently strolled into an eerie time machine to join an alien on a trip through the galaxies. Still without knowing his last name.

The scripts are witty. Rose asks the doctor, "If you're an alien, how come you sound like you come from the north?" The doctor replies, "Lots of planets have a north." 
(Doctor Who, Prime, Thursday, 7.30pm)

This abridged review from the Sunday Star Times, June 10, 2005, is typical of the New Zealand media's positive reaction to the return of Doctor Who. Prime, bless them, promoted the premier to the hilt, and sure enough ended up with a hit on their hands.

(photograph by Shane Palmer)

A lot happens in ten years, we've weathered a global financial crisis, seen a major New Zealand city devastated by an earthquake, and on a personal level my own Rose and I have changed jobs, built a house,  become published writers (I've even been fortunate enough to interview many people from the show itself).  We've also had to say goodbye to people dear to us, My Mum didn't see out Tennant's era but would always watch the new show and was very happy to see Bille Piper return in series 4. But through good and bad a certain sturdy blue box has been a constant reassuring presence, at least for a few months each year - and, oh so fittingly - at Christmas.

So here are some of my favourite moments from the years since Christopher Eccleston's Doctor first asked "D'you wanna come with me?"

2005: "Have a good life - do that for me, Rose - have a fantastic life."
There's so much to love in Eccleston's final episode, but the Doctor's holographic recording turning to farewell Rose as if he knows exactly where she's standing, and delivering that line, raises goosebumps every time.

(from 1:07)

________________________

2006: "Did I do something wrong? Because you never came back for me. You just dumped me."
The old and new series are officially linked, and one of the very best of former friends addresses an awkward issue.

________________________

2007: "You... Are... Not... Alone"
Sir Derek Jacobi is the Master- how spoilt were we?  The fact that it was only for ten minutes is indicative of the many things this season didn't get quite so right.

 (from 3.30)

________________________

2008: The Opening credits of The Stolen Earth
Actually the guest list of a huge 45th Anniversary party - what a shame so few people seemed to realise at the time.

________________________

2009: "Captain, they're back. It's the bus, ma'am, it's come back and it's flying."
A double-decker bus emerges from a time-space wormhole into the London night sky, to the gleeful adulation of UNITs current scientific adviser.
The most joyous and silly of a handful of slightly gloomy 'specials'.  Was fun largely forgotten because it was Tennant's last year?

________________________

2010: "Hello, I'm the Doctor. Basically... run."
On a hospital rooftop, Matt Smith walks out from behind a compilation of nostalgic clips, fixing his bow-tie, and himself, firmly in place.

________________________

2011: "Did you wish really, really hard?"
The TARDIS becomes a woman who introduces herself as 'sexy', to Amy's arch consternation. Neil Gaiman delivers his love letter to the series.

________________________

2012: The Parliament of the Daleks
Beat that Phantom Menace - but let's hope there's never a fire drill.

________________________

2013: "No Sir, all thirteen!" and:
 "I'm a Doctor, but probably not the one you were expecting."
It was the 50th Anniversary, so I'm allowed two - neither of which were in the actual 2013 season. The next Doctor almost steals an already wondrous scene with his glare alone:

and elsewhere we get the present everyone wanted, but no-one was expecting:

________________________

2014:  "You were an exceptional Doctor, Clara... goodness had nothing to do with it."
At the end of Flatline, a hugely inventive and beautifully realised story, the Doctor reminds Clara, and the rest of us, that we still don't really know him. He remains 'Doctor Who'.

So what has stood out for you in the last ten years of 'Nu Who'?

Hey, Missy!

A Scottish Doctor and Master, and the best series for almost ten years.
So why does writing about the conclusion feel like a chore?
I've started, so I'll finish...

The scary/crazy Scottish HR manager from that wonderful series Green Wing is the Master - its confirmed. But also - she's a woman.  Fandom has tied itself in knots trying to concoct over-complicated alternative theories for this intriguing character's identity for three months now - and what a twittering waste of data that was.  Sometimes the simplest, and in this case, most logical conclusion is the correct one - even in a Steven Moffat script. And Michelle Gomez is a magnificent Master, thankfully supplanting the excruciating John Sim version, to become the best since Delgado.  Or at least Jacobi.

Except, she now appears to have been vapourised.  By a Cyberman.  Who's also the resurrected Brigadier.  Whaaaat?

Despite many wonderful, ingenious scenes and exquisite performances, watching this season finale wasn't an entirely pleasurable experience for me.  In fact, it stopped me sleeping properly, which is ridiculous for a TV programme.  I can only put it down to the feeling that Dark Water/Death in Heaven falls short of capping what has been the best series since 2005 - with a consistency of story-telling quality which surpassed all expectation.  Unsurprisingly, we've had the best Doctor in years, and the very surprising rehabilitation of a companion who has surged from the back of the field to the lead.  This alone could have carried a year of average scripts, but instead we've been given Into the Dalek, Listen, Mummy on the Orient Express, Flatline - no less than four stories surely destined for all-time greatness.  I even loved the Robin Hood episode.
So, could this ever be rounded off satisfactorily?

Moffat rose to the occasion magnificently last year with Day of the Doctor after a very patchy year of stories - but this time I'm left with the feeling that we've dropped back into the credibility-stretching, over-complicated keyboard bashing which finales like the Wedding of River Song previously 'thrilled' me with. After being so thoroughly spoilt this year I hate to be negative now, so I'll emphasise the positive (which took a second viewing to really bring to the fore).  Actually, I'll make a top five list:

1.Circular logic.
What does that logo mean, we all thought?  Then the doors closed together and we all suddenly remembered we've known who the villains in this story were going to be for months.  A forehead slapping moment in the best possible way.

2. Kissy Missy.
You can keep all your bromance/romance fan theories, this was a hilarious and icky moment, with the Master expoiting a completely new way of rattling the Doctor. And the look on Clara's face was priceless...

3. Martial art. A painting of the Brigadier (from his last appearance in the programme), is a lovely tribute, rendering that absurd Cyber-Brig nonsense later on even more unnecessary and increasing the pang of regret that the new programme makers didn't move quickly enough to get Mr. Courtney back while they still could.

4. Only Osgood dies young.
Still reeling from this one and I have to hand it to Moffat.  How do you show just how malevolent the new Master can be? Have her ruthlessly kill a supporting character of course, but obviously not the most beloved one which fandom instantly took to it's heart as their avatar, and has just been invited to join the TARDIS crew.  No, that would never happen. Much less tread on her glasses afterwards.  Oh no.

5. Permission to Squeeeee!
I once read about a quick-thinking skydiver who saved a friend who's chute failed to open by doing exactly this - so it really could happen.  I couldn't do it though, I invariably fumble with keys and locks under the least-challenging of circumstances.

Lunar Express

As the current series of Doctor Who passes its half-way point I find myself talking about eclipses and Foxes.

I'm not saying I predicted vintage trains in space, and certainly didn't foresee steam punk,
but here's a painting I submitted for my University Entrance Art portfolio back in 1982.
(and he seems to be wearing the Eighth Doctor's costume)

This series of Doctor Who has been frustrating.
Why?  Well, just when you think you've picked a favourite story and are sure the quality is most likely to plateau or dip from this point, another one comes along the following week which is even better.  Of course there have been the rare wobbles (Time Heist: go to the back of the class) but so far, this year has been the most consistently brilliant in terms of writing, performance, direction and production value which I can remember.  It's due in no small part to Capaldi.  I hoped we'd see a less accessable, more alien and unpredictable interpretation of the Doctor, but I don't think anyone could have forseen the extent of risk Capaldi dares with his characterisation, or the degree of pay-off. You can't take your eyes off him and although I'm a little reluctant to say it, he's the sixth Doctor done right - scary, unfathomable, but able to let the hero we've followed all these years shine through just when he's needed.
Perhaps because of all of the above, Jenna Coleman has also upped her game hugely from last year.  No longer a self-adoring, quick-fire quipping cypher, Clara is suddenly a believable person in unbelievable circumstances. Sometimes scared, or angry, and sometimes, mercifully, lost for words.

So here is a post tenuously linking itself to the last two stories.  Kill the Moon wasn't stellar, (at least that's my opinion), but did showcase the inevitable bust-up between our two leads.  Perhaps it was inevitable, but still shocking in it's own way and, of course, brilliantly played.
I won't be subscribing to the theory posited in the episode for the origin of our natural satellite, but I am going to talk about the moon. And why not - we had a lunar eclipse earlier this month.  Not a common event, but also the second total eclipse of the moon this year.

As the earth's rotation and moon's orbit align - we become become 'piggy in the middle' with Sol and Luna. The Earth's shadow is cast across our moon, but this doesn't blot it out completely, instead washing it in a dim coppery twilight at totality.  It's a striking sight well-worth seeing, and I'll certainly never forget my first experience of a 'blood moon', with the Star League, on a mid-winter night in 1982.

The moon (in total eclipse) tracks across the sky, with part of the constellation
of Sagittarius, in August 1982 (Photograph by Mark Mullen)

The following episode: Mummy on the Orient Express, was stellar, and absolutely beautiful to look at.  It has to be said, there probably aren't many programmes as well directed, production- designed and photographed on TV at the moment.

 This episode barely had a single forgettable shot, but what I want to talk about is 'that song'.  I had no idea who Foxes was, but Don't stop me now by Queen has been a favourite for a very long time.

25-year-old, Grammy Award-winning Louisa Allen performs a jazz/blues cover of the Queen classic, and as well as providing some diverting background colour on board the Orient Express, the collaboration between singer and series seems to have had benefits both ways.
Foxes has enthused: " I couldn’t think of a better place to make my acting debut than on one of the UK’s most iconic shows!" while the BBC have taken the opportunity to release the whole track with a compilation of series 8 clips, including some not seen before for upcoming episodes.
Doctor Who and Queen - having a good time, having a ball...

I am Joe's Eye-stalk

We're going beyond the beyond of beyond,
 and getting under the enemy's skin...

Doctor Who is back after it's longest break since Paul McGann left San Francisco in 1996, and so far it's been rather good. Inevitably I'd like to write about the new series here, but I don't want to slavishly post a review of the latest episode every week, either.  A plethora of up-to-date, well-written reviews are a few key-strokes away on Google, so I'm going to try something a little bit different.
What I'm planning to do is occasionally dip into the new series with a more peripheral look at a particular episode. For example, I covered the first story by banging on about Peter Capaldi for paragraph after over-long paragraph (well, he's great, OK?).
This week's episode has been almost unanimously, and deservedly, declared an instant classic. It delivered exactly what its title: Into the Dalek promised: a miniaturised 'fantastic voyage' through the inner workings of the Doctor's greatest enemy.  So I'm going to look at the first time many fans took the same journey - within the pages of a very special book.

“BEYOND the BEYOND of BEYOND”, we intoned solemnly into the cassette recorder, bellowing every time we came across a word spelt unnecessarily in BOLD CAPITALS, “at the DARK endless edge of ETERNAL SPACE!”.  We were eleven years old, and my friend Adam and I broke off helpless with mirth at our own prepubescent wit.  We were reading from possibly the first ever Doctor Who coffee table book, the legendary 1976 tome Doctor Who and the Daleks Omnibus, and specifically the stunningly illustrated but erratically ‘bold/Caps locked/strip: ‘Invasion – the Enemy Within’.

We might have been mocking, but we loved that book.  Like the Doctor's recent foray, the wonderful cutaway diagram 'The Anatomy of a Dalek' allowed us to see inside a Dalek. We learned that the gun was called a ‘multi-range variable power destructor’ (only here and nowhere else as far as I know), although the organic creature itself appeared to be a large collander of effervescent pea soup. We speculated whether being shot in the pinky finger by a multi-range destructor might kill you.

At the back, every Dalek serial was listed with a tantalising brief description, the closest thing to any kind of programme guide we'd ever seen at this point (even if few of the story names were actually correct).  This ended with the then-latest dalek adventure called Genesis of the Daleks.  The Omnibus was very focused on this serial which we had never seen and a good part of the book consisted of an apparently abridged reprint of Terrance Dick’s Target novelisation - a meticulous on-line Fan has since calculated that almost 5% of the original prose has been removed.  (This was months before I even knew what a Target novelisation was – but I digress, there will be much more about these wonderful little books in an upcoming post).  Pages of the actual Genesis script and images from the story were reproduced, along with a gorgeously lurid illustrated portrait of Davros.

 This all made Genesis of the Daleks seem like the greatest story ever, even though it was clearly inaccurate.  We all knew that the Daleks evolved as a result of a neutronic war with the Thals, not genetically engineered by some wizened, wheelchair-bound slap-head – how could the programme get that so wrong?
The third Doctor story Planet of the Daleks got similar treatment in the second half of the book, which I loved even more as I was, and remain, a steadfast adherent to the gospel according to Jon. And then some glorious colour stills including  a thrilling scene from Genesis where the Daleks apparently corner the Doctor in a BBC carpark (I had no concept of publicity stills at this age).

Like the modern programme-makers, the publishers of the Omnibus were clearly enarmoured with the stack-platformed, long-eared (that’s what the diagram said the Dalek ‘lights’ were) big-screen Dalek versions, as they featured in most of the illustrations.  Oh, the illustrations! Here we finally come to the reason why this book is utterly essential in any fan’s library.  No Doctor Who artist (and there have been many talented professionals over the years), ever came near the verve, spectacle, and sheer insanity of the magnificent work done by the General Illustration Company for this book.
Colour and texture which in isolation might border on unsightly are blended into stunning visions by a masterclass application of composition and technique.

 The illustrations for the Genesis of the Daleks prose are the most bold and surreal, broadly rendered and sparingly coloured, with beautiful use of negative space.
But personally, the artwork accompanying the Planet of the Daleks section is where the book really soars for me.  These are all beautiful pieces boasting a richer palette and more precise rendering, but still masterfully slick and never laboured. My own favourite is the contents page for Planet, featuring the Thals grimly removing the remains of two partially submerged Daleks while the Doctor looks on.  The composition puts the villains at the front, giving the two Daleks a sense of menace despite their predicament, while desperate determination is clear in the Thal's expressions. The Doctor is three-quarter length at the top centre, directing proceedings with a calm authority which is pure Pertwee.

I only wish we could properly credit the criminally anonymous geniuses of the general Illustration Company, the real stars of the Dalek Omnibus. From the startling cover to the literally stellar depictions of Skaro’s solar system and the mighty Dalek Deep Space Cruiser – this was artwork which convinced you of the might, the evil and other-worldliness of the Daleks in a way the programme itself never could.

(With special thanks to my Aunt May. Ten dollars was the most money anyone had ever given me in my ten-year-old life, but at least I spent your generous gift on a book which is still a prized possession and inspiration all these years later.)