David Tennant, eh? Blink and you'd have still seen him. For ages. Even narcolepsy wouldn't have blanked him out. He's been on TV more than John Barrowman for once, which is in itself a miracle. Still, no-one watched his Hamlet on Boxing Day, so the UK yule wasn't an entirely Tennant-based affair. Five hours of Shakespeare was probably not ideal viewing in the family-wrecked aftermath of Christmas.
And there was the little matter of Doctor Who, regenerating from Tennant to Matt Smith on New Years Day after a Christmas Day special. This would have been an unfathomable piece of scheduling for the series in any era other than the Dalek mania of 1964-66, and attests to a transformation in the fortunes of this series, from the cult hit of the seventies to the incongruous mess of the eighties, and then its miraculous mainstream rebirth in 2005. Naturally, Doctor Who fans being what they are, they all love it so much they hate it, but their small-minded whinnying can't diminish the amazing feat this has been and Russell T. Davies's overwhelming success at achieving the impossible: resurrecting a much-loved but dead series, reworking the emphasis so that it worked in a more human and mainstream way (if only his old companions had anywhere near the journey of Rose or Donna I doubt it would have been cancelled in the first place...) and making the most of the budget to create the best visuals they could afford. Anyone who thinks this was easy or that anyone could have done it better are either hopelessly naive or pointlessly cruel. Moffat is, of course, the flavour of the month with the fans (till his series starts, and then all the grumbling begins again) but he's hardly had an illustrious history of TV success behind him, and though he is brilliant and I am terribly excited by his arrival as show-runner, he's lead a lot of series to cancellation down the years.
I have to say, I wasn't mad about the Christmas episode, it felt unstructured and lacked a compulsive narrative. I've not been keen on the fancy-gizmo-on-Earth stories (be it Sontarans, Cybermen or bad CGI Mark Gatiss) and this just felt like another of those. Yet the second episode was tremendous, most particularly for the performances by Bernard Cribbins and Tennant. I loved all the nods to previous regenerations (Davisons's crashing spaceship, Pertwee's radiation sickness, Tom Baker's Watcher, Troughton's trial by Time Lords), the 'fuck it' moment when he resigns himself to dying and goes and breaks the laws of time in small ways to say goodbye to all of his friends, and the lump-in-throat moment when he shut the Tardis door behind him and was all alone. And I got very excited to see Matt Smith, who just looks the part.
Davies has given us five years of brilliantly fun, exciting, entertaining and sometimes extremely moving TV in a format (saturday night family telly) and show everyone thought was dead. It could have missed the point, like the terrible McGann TV Movie, and turned Doctor Who into yet another witless sci-fi series, but instead it's returned with all of the charm, fun and excitement of the old series, and a whole load of new emotional, human stories to ground the entire thing, which it had really needed all along. And now onto Steven Moffat, who might turn out to be the Philip Hinchcliffe/Robert Holmes from Tom Baker's gothic, horrifying early years, to Davies's Barry Letts/Terrance Dicks from Jon Pertwee's earth-bound era. Or he might just be Al Gore to Davies's Clinton... I'm hoping the former. I think the next season is going to be really special.
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Showing posts with label doctor who. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor who. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Shouting at the Telly’s Guide to Christmas TV
Christmas Eve
Victoria Wood’s Midlife Christmas (BBC1, 9pm)
My all-time favourite comedian is back with a one-off Christmas show. It’s fair to say that her work in the last twenty years hasn’t ever managed to recapture the inspired madness of the early days which culminated in the peerless Audience With, but even so there’s bound to be a few good laughs here, even if there will be too many celebrity cameos to digest.
The Hound of the Baskervilles (BBC2 9pm)
Obviously I am a big fan of the Tom Baker version, and this production goes head to head with the Guy Ritchie film which is released on Boxing Day. Richard Roxborough had his work cut out following the many greats who have played Holmes in the past, but it looks great, and was adapted for TV by my A Level drama teacher Allan Cubitt.
Christmas Day
Doctor Who (BBC1 6pm)
This is my highlight of the season. The best show of the decade heads for massive transformation, from mercurial Tennant and lovely RTD to untested Matt Smith and grizzly Moffatt. It’s got Oods, it’s got John Simm, it’s got Bernard Cribbins and best of all it’s got Catherine Tate (also appearing in Nan’s Christmas Carol at 10.30pm), the surprise of the series, and the best companion he’s had since the likes of Romana. I’ve deliberately avoided all spoilers but this promises to be the best thing on telly over the holiday.
On the Buses/Mutiny on the Buses/Holiday on the Buses (ITV3 5.25pm)
Forget Star Wars or The Godfather, this is the 70s movie trilogy. It tells you everything you need to know about how desperate and clapped out Britain was in the era of the 3 day week, strikes, inflation and oil crises. It features a casual full house of ‘isms’, where ugly men get laid by dolly birds while ugly women are a threat, most particularly as bus conductors. I would recommend you watch them as a piece of history, but they are unwatchable and seedy in a way that is too depressing even for Christmas.
Citizen Kane (BBC4 7pm), Appointment with Death (ITV 9pm), Grey Gardens (C4, 9pm)
Very spoiled by these three. A spectacular Syrian setting for Poirot gives a shot in the arm to this epic series of adaptations, and Citizen Kane is alright, I s’pose. Grey Gardens should be a real treat, a dramatised version of the celebrated 70s documentary (shown on C4 on 12.45am on Wednesday 30th) about a once glamorous mother and daughter trapped together in their house as it goes to ruin around them.
The Royle Family (9pm), Gavin and Stacey (10pm)
Two of the loveliest, warmest and funniest sitcoms of recent years. Caroline Aherne is the lost genius of British comedy, and it’s a treat to have her back on TV. And Smithy and Nessa are slowly taking over in G&S, and about time too.
Boxing Day
Harry Hill’s TV Burp Review of the Year (ITV 6.30pm), Charlie Brooker’s Screenwipe (BBC4 10.30pm)
The two best shows about TV on TV are both doing their reviews of the year tonight. Which makes writing about them slightly redundant. So I won't.
You’ve Been Framed at Christmas (ITV 7pm)
No amount of studied comedy artistry, erudite wit or comic timing can get me in the same way at the moments of violent shock presented in You’ve Been Framed. A couple of Christmasses ago there was an amazing clip of a posh elderly woman in a huge kitchen with a canister of double cream which suddenly exploded all over her. Nothing has come near to making me laugh as much since.
The Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show (BBC2, 9.10pm)
Featuring Mr Andrew Preview. I've seen it forever, it will still crack me up.
The Third Man (BBC4 7.15pm)
The film that launched a thousand Portishead songs, and one of the most perfect thrillers ever made. Nothing better.
Sunday 27th
Home Alone 4 (ITV 12.10pm)
Is there actually a Home Alone 4? When did this happen? I thought there were two of the buggers. This is terrible news. I’m so sorry everyone.
The Greatest TV Shows of the Noughties (C4 9pm), The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006 (C4 10.35)
Mind you, it’s not as bad as C4 later, which has the worst evening of TV imaginable lined up – a clip show and then a repeat of an old quiz of the year. C4 is ending the decade in typically duff style. For the most part this channel has been the TV wing of New Labour in the noughties, with its glut of aspirational property, parenting and lifestyle shows. But behind that there’s also the lazy non-shows, the fillers of which tonight is a classic example.
Outnumbered – The Christmas Special (BBC1 10.30pm)
It’s up there with The Thick of It when it comes to modern sitcom genius, and a Christmas special is long overdue. Who thought BBC1 family sitcoms could still be good? It’s the females who make this so funny – Claire Skinner and Ramona Marquez as mother and daughter. Why it’s on so late rather than prime-time Christmas Day is beyond me.
Monday 28th
An Englishman in New York (ITV 9pm)
The Naked Civil Servant was a landmark, not just in TV but society in Britain in the mid-seventies. For its frank and flamboyant representation of Quentin Crisp’s life this was a remarkable achievement. And on ITV too! And so this long-awaited follow-up is bound to be an instant classic. Well, let’s hope.
The Day of the Triffids (BBC1 9pm)
I was in love with John Duttine when I was a kid, after seeing him in the 1980 version of this brilliant story. I hope Dougray Scott does him proud in the remake, which follows hot on the heels of the recent reinvention of Survivors, a similarly bleak and dystopian vision of a post-apocalyptic Britain.
Tuesday 29th
This is the day that schedulers forgot. There’s nothing to see here. Please move along.
Wednesday 30th
Piers Morgan’s Review of the Year (ITV 9pm)
Can you imagine what this will be like? Responsible for my least favourite TV moment of the year (making Ronnie Corbett cry, forchrissakes) everyone’s favourite anal fissure bounces over the events of the year on the space-hopper sized ego he uses for transit these days.
The Turn of the Screw (BBC1 9pm)
A dead cert, a classic ghost story for Christmas. One of the most dramatised novels of all time, it’s hard to know what a new production can do, but it does look like a goodie all the same.
633 Squadron (ITV4 8pm)
I love a good war film. Heroes of Telemark is also on over xmas, but this is probably my favourite. The music alone quickens the pulse, and all the battle scenes in those nippy mosquitos are fantastic. George Chakiris makes the swarthiest Norwegian going, making no effort to not appear as a groovy sixties beatnik. Worth watching it just for his hair.
New Year’s Eve
Always a low point in scheduling, this NYE is no different. Not a single stand-out show on any channel for the whole day. Go out, get drunk and snog a tramp.
New Year’s Day
Are You Being Served Night (BBC2 5pm)
Prepare for the history of the pussy joke and the limp wrist. Like Round the Horne before it, the camp innuendo and cast of 2D caricatures should be a nightmare but are actually an endless delight. With a documentary and a couple of episodes (including the pilot), this should be loads of fun.
EastEnders (BBC1 TWICE!)
It’s the culmination of the Syed and Christian love story, as it’s Syed’s wedding day. I’m in no way recommending this because of my love of Syed and all things Syed. No, it’s top drawer drama and no mistake. With Syed.
Doctor Who (BBC1 6.40pm), Gavin and Stacey (BBC1 9pm)
It’s the end of an era for both Tennant and Ruth Jones and James Corden tonight, so I’m expecting to be wrung out like a dishcloth by the end of the day. New year, new decade, who knows what delights it will bring? If it’s anything like as marvellous as either of these it’ll be a triumph.
Victoria Wood’s Midlife Christmas (BBC1, 9pm)
My all-time favourite comedian is back with a one-off Christmas show. It’s fair to say that her work in the last twenty years hasn’t ever managed to recapture the inspired madness of the early days which culminated in the peerless Audience With, but even so there’s bound to be a few good laughs here, even if there will be too many celebrity cameos to digest.
The Hound of the Baskervilles (BBC2 9pm)
Obviously I am a big fan of the Tom Baker version, and this production goes head to head with the Guy Ritchie film which is released on Boxing Day. Richard Roxborough had his work cut out following the many greats who have played Holmes in the past, but it looks great, and was adapted for TV by my A Level drama teacher Allan Cubitt.
Christmas Day
Doctor Who (BBC1 6pm)
This is my highlight of the season. The best show of the decade heads for massive transformation, from mercurial Tennant and lovely RTD to untested Matt Smith and grizzly Moffatt. It’s got Oods, it’s got John Simm, it’s got Bernard Cribbins and best of all it’s got Catherine Tate (also appearing in Nan’s Christmas Carol at 10.30pm), the surprise of the series, and the best companion he’s had since the likes of Romana. I’ve deliberately avoided all spoilers but this promises to be the best thing on telly over the holiday.
On the Buses/Mutiny on the Buses/Holiday on the Buses (ITV3 5.25pm)
Forget Star Wars or The Godfather, this is the 70s movie trilogy. It tells you everything you need to know about how desperate and clapped out Britain was in the era of the 3 day week, strikes, inflation and oil crises. It features a casual full house of ‘isms’, where ugly men get laid by dolly birds while ugly women are a threat, most particularly as bus conductors. I would recommend you watch them as a piece of history, but they are unwatchable and seedy in a way that is too depressing even for Christmas.
Citizen Kane (BBC4 7pm), Appointment with Death (ITV 9pm), Grey Gardens (C4, 9pm)
Very spoiled by these three. A spectacular Syrian setting for Poirot gives a shot in the arm to this epic series of adaptations, and Citizen Kane is alright, I s’pose. Grey Gardens should be a real treat, a dramatised version of the celebrated 70s documentary (shown on C4 on 12.45am on Wednesday 30th) about a once glamorous mother and daughter trapped together in their house as it goes to ruin around them.
The Royle Family (9pm), Gavin and Stacey (10pm)
Two of the loveliest, warmest and funniest sitcoms of recent years. Caroline Aherne is the lost genius of British comedy, and it’s a treat to have her back on TV. And Smithy and Nessa are slowly taking over in G&S, and about time too.
Boxing Day
Harry Hill’s TV Burp Review of the Year (ITV 6.30pm), Charlie Brooker’s Screenwipe (BBC4 10.30pm)
The two best shows about TV on TV are both doing their reviews of the year tonight. Which makes writing about them slightly redundant. So I won't.
You’ve Been Framed at Christmas (ITV 7pm)
No amount of studied comedy artistry, erudite wit or comic timing can get me in the same way at the moments of violent shock presented in You’ve Been Framed. A couple of Christmasses ago there was an amazing clip of a posh elderly woman in a huge kitchen with a canister of double cream which suddenly exploded all over her. Nothing has come near to making me laugh as much since.
The Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show (BBC2, 9.10pm)
Featuring Mr Andrew Preview. I've seen it forever, it will still crack me up.
The Third Man (BBC4 7.15pm)
The film that launched a thousand Portishead songs, and one of the most perfect thrillers ever made. Nothing better.
Sunday 27th
Home Alone 4 (ITV 12.10pm)
Is there actually a Home Alone 4? When did this happen? I thought there were two of the buggers. This is terrible news. I’m so sorry everyone.
The Greatest TV Shows of the Noughties (C4 9pm), The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006 (C4 10.35)
Mind you, it’s not as bad as C4 later, which has the worst evening of TV imaginable lined up – a clip show and then a repeat of an old quiz of the year. C4 is ending the decade in typically duff style. For the most part this channel has been the TV wing of New Labour in the noughties, with its glut of aspirational property, parenting and lifestyle shows. But behind that there’s also the lazy non-shows, the fillers of which tonight is a classic example.
Outnumbered – The Christmas Special (BBC1 10.30pm)
It’s up there with The Thick of It when it comes to modern sitcom genius, and a Christmas special is long overdue. Who thought BBC1 family sitcoms could still be good? It’s the females who make this so funny – Claire Skinner and Ramona Marquez as mother and daughter. Why it’s on so late rather than prime-time Christmas Day is beyond me.
Monday 28th
An Englishman in New York (ITV 9pm)
The Naked Civil Servant was a landmark, not just in TV but society in Britain in the mid-seventies. For its frank and flamboyant representation of Quentin Crisp’s life this was a remarkable achievement. And on ITV too! And so this long-awaited follow-up is bound to be an instant classic. Well, let’s hope.
The Day of the Triffids (BBC1 9pm)
I was in love with John Duttine when I was a kid, after seeing him in the 1980 version of this brilliant story. I hope Dougray Scott does him proud in the remake, which follows hot on the heels of the recent reinvention of Survivors, a similarly bleak and dystopian vision of a post-apocalyptic Britain.
Tuesday 29th
This is the day that schedulers forgot. There’s nothing to see here. Please move along.
Wednesday 30th
Piers Morgan’s Review of the Year (ITV 9pm)
Can you imagine what this will be like? Responsible for my least favourite TV moment of the year (making Ronnie Corbett cry, forchrissakes) everyone’s favourite anal fissure bounces over the events of the year on the space-hopper sized ego he uses for transit these days.
The Turn of the Screw (BBC1 9pm)
A dead cert, a classic ghost story for Christmas. One of the most dramatised novels of all time, it’s hard to know what a new production can do, but it does look like a goodie all the same.
633 Squadron (ITV4 8pm)
I love a good war film. Heroes of Telemark is also on over xmas, but this is probably my favourite. The music alone quickens the pulse, and all the battle scenes in those nippy mosquitos are fantastic. George Chakiris makes the swarthiest Norwegian going, making no effort to not appear as a groovy sixties beatnik. Worth watching it just for his hair.
New Year’s Eve
Always a low point in scheduling, this NYE is no different. Not a single stand-out show on any channel for the whole day. Go out, get drunk and snog a tramp.
New Year’s Day
Are You Being Served Night (BBC2 5pm)
Prepare for the history of the pussy joke and the limp wrist. Like Round the Horne before it, the camp innuendo and cast of 2D caricatures should be a nightmare but are actually an endless delight. With a documentary and a couple of episodes (including the pilot), this should be loads of fun.
EastEnders (BBC1 TWICE!)
It’s the culmination of the Syed and Christian love story, as it’s Syed’s wedding day. I’m in no way recommending this because of my love of Syed and all things Syed. No, it’s top drawer drama and no mistake. With Syed.
Doctor Who (BBC1 6.40pm), Gavin and Stacey (BBC1 9pm)
It’s the end of an era for both Tennant and Ruth Jones and James Corden tonight, so I’m expecting to be wrung out like a dishcloth by the end of the day. New year, new decade, who knows what delights it will bring? If it’s anything like as marvellous as either of these it’ll be a triumph.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
28 Days Water
The much-trailed penultimate David Tennant/Russell T Davis Doctor Who story, The Waters of Mars, was finally broadcast this evening, and reminded me of all of the reasons I've enjoyed RTD's reboot of the show.
There was a really gripping story, something Davies is repeatedly underestimated for considering his extensive plotting and rewriting of not just his but all the other writers stories bar Moffat's, emotional engagement in the form of Lindsay Duncan, some absolutely horrible monsters and a great psychological twist at the end - this time with the lonely Doctor (last of the Time Lords, travelling alone) going power mad, and prompting a bleak and abrupt suicide. Loved all the Logopolis (Tom Baker's brilliant final story)-style foreshadowing at the end too, with the Cloister Bell and the Ood watcher... One of the things I've liked most about RTD's tenure as chief writer has been his exploration of new angles on existing themes, and this story finally saw the dark underside of the almost religious and magical overtones he's given the Doctor in previous stories, especially The Sound of Drums. He's not seen individual stories as islands but has been happy to explore and review the human (and alien) consequences of moral choices made throughout the series. This was always the weakness of old Who. Much as individual stories were awesome, the resetting between stories was unnecessary and ultimately hindered audience connection with the characters.
Everyone is very excited about Moffat's reinvention of the franchise, but I'm a little worried. What RTD has done is broad brush humour, warmth, adventure and razzle-dazzle. Great as Moffat's stories have been they have been tonally very similar (dark, intense, complicated) and I doubt a whole run of stories like that would keep the audience the current series has gathered to it. I'm not a fan of the 'dark version', that film reboot style so popular with film-makers during the Bush era. I'm more a new Star Trek kinda guy - warm, witty reboots which capture the fun of a franchise and don't try to turn The Muppets into Hamlet. There's a place for the dark version, but not every Saturday teatime there ain't. Doctor Who is best when it's fun and scary, and The Waters of Mars was a great example of that. As soon as it gets a bit Christopher Nolan I'm outta here.
There was a really gripping story, something Davies is repeatedly underestimated for considering his extensive plotting and rewriting of not just his but all the other writers stories bar Moffat's, emotional engagement in the form of Lindsay Duncan, some absolutely horrible monsters and a great psychological twist at the end - this time with the lonely Doctor (last of the Time Lords, travelling alone) going power mad, and prompting a bleak and abrupt suicide. Loved all the Logopolis (Tom Baker's brilliant final story)-style foreshadowing at the end too, with the Cloister Bell and the Ood watcher... One of the things I've liked most about RTD's tenure as chief writer has been his exploration of new angles on existing themes, and this story finally saw the dark underside of the almost religious and magical overtones he's given the Doctor in previous stories, especially The Sound of Drums. He's not seen individual stories as islands but has been happy to explore and review the human (and alien) consequences of moral choices made throughout the series. This was always the weakness of old Who. Much as individual stories were awesome, the resetting between stories was unnecessary and ultimately hindered audience connection with the characters.
Everyone is very excited about Moffat's reinvention of the franchise, but I'm a little worried. What RTD has done is broad brush humour, warmth, adventure and razzle-dazzle. Great as Moffat's stories have been they have been tonally very similar (dark, intense, complicated) and I doubt a whole run of stories like that would keep the audience the current series has gathered to it. I'm not a fan of the 'dark version', that film reboot style so popular with film-makers during the Bush era. I'm more a new Star Trek kinda guy - warm, witty reboots which capture the fun of a franchise and don't try to turn The Muppets into Hamlet. There's a place for the dark version, but not every Saturday teatime there ain't. Doctor Who is best when it's fun and scary, and The Waters of Mars was a great example of that. As soon as it gets a bit Christopher Nolan I'm outta here.
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Maximum Power!
Last weekend I was cat-sitting for my middle brother and discovered he had three series of Blake's 7 hidden on his bookshelf. I had seen series 1 and 2 in the last five years, but hadn't seen series 3 since it was last repeated in the eighties, so I gave that a go. And I have to say, I still bloody loved it.
I wasn't so much of a fan of the original line-up. Flicky Jenna, boring Gan and vain thesp Blake were better off dead in my book. And one big criticism of series 3 by fans is that it had lost its sense of quest: Blake was always trying to ferment revolution in the first two, and Avon had gone Blake crazy by the 4th, but in the third our anti-heroes seemed happy to potter about playing board games and get tricked into handing the Liberator over to the federation every other story. The thing is, I always thought the quest was a bit boring. I prefered them when they were just arsing about being sneered at by Avon (Paul Darrow doing a similar trick to his peer Tom Baker of delivering his lines quickly and in a monotone so that you always felt you were watching someone a bit other-worldly).
The big treat this season was the arrival of Someone Who Could Really Act. Josette Simon's many glittering post-Blake credits attest to her versatility, but I'm glad the BBC got to her first. Dayna, introduced in the first story of the season, hiding out with her medallion-man dad on a rough old planet covered in horse-riding barbarians, is a deadly weapons expert. Well, she was in this and about two other of the stories this season when they remembered it. But no matter what she was given, Josette was as dignifed as it was possible to be when playing a harp in a dream sequence, arguing with Servalan about who looks best in an assymetric toga or snogging both Avon and Tarrant. Both Dayna and Josette's talents were squandered, but even so it was great having her being sarky and stunningly beautiful on the Liberator – especially when intelligent, strong black women characters were virtually unknown on British telly.
But the next story introduces us to Tarrant, Somone With A Silly Voice. That was Stephen Pacey's big problem, really. Introduced as an alpha-male Blake-a-like, seemingly a Federation trooper till revealed as a naughty bandit, Tarrant spoke like someone taking the piss out of macho men on television. But, unlike Dayna, he gets loads to do. He's always teleporting down and shooting stuff, or arguing with Avon. But he never does anything remotely interesting. Even when, in the penultimate episode of this season, he turns up in a wig as his own brother engaged in a duel to the death with an android, you end up caring more about the brother than you do about Tarrant.
Cally gets tons to do. Like Tarrant, haunted Jan Leeming-lookalike and telepath Cally gets to play her own sibling in a particularly dull story, and then gets possessed in a totally bonkers episode where she ends up dolled up like Florence and the Machine and gets the rest of the crew to do magic tricks and sing. And she also snogs Avon, who is doing rather well out of the ladies this series considering he looks like Blackadder II. Cally also seems to teleport down everywhere despite the fact she's rubbish while trained warrior Dayna is left behind to push buttons and invent bombs she hides in her own mouth (bizarrely).
Vila. Now there was a man after my own heart. Coward, joker, dreamer and utter failure, Vila didn't get to do much ths series other than moan at Orac and Zen, drink green liquid and - oh yes - become leader of the world in one of the best ever stories, City at the Edge of the World. That was the things about series 3 - there wasn't much point, but some of the stories were fantastic. It's tremendously good fun. Well, apart from Volcano, which makes absolutely no sense and has an overuse of terrible stock footage, and Moloch, which has such a spectacularly bad ending that you almost feel dirty for having watched it.
But Avon and Servalan really dominate the season. Avon is rather passive, considering the weakness of the Federation at the start of the season following the intergalactic war, so Servalan does all of the chasing. And she crops up in almost every story, slinking about in her ugly dead baby crocodile spaceship and trying to get her hands on the Liberator. And you can see why - it's bloody cool. Zen is up there with K9 for me as most lamented childhood loss. Considering she's so powerful, Servalan shows she's a very hands-on kinda manager. She's always hiding behind the next door or chained to the wall round the corner. But you get some sense of her importance in the brilliant Rumours of Death, set in a stately home on earth she's had reconstructed, where hoards of guards are protecting her from the rebels. Avon is understandably annoyed that the one woman he ever loved - Anna Grant - turned out to be the Federation's best agent. Still, they get to snog, and he also snogs Servalan twice, turning him into the unlikeliest sex object in the universe. Amazing what a bit of black leather will do.
The finale, Terminal, is bloody brilliant. Very subdued and atmospheric. Avon off on a mysterious mission, thinks he's found Blake, oops, no, it's Servalan again, natch. The Liberator takes a bath in some corrosive fungi which basically covers the whole ship with snot and kills it. And when Servalan finally gets her manicured nails on it the whole thing immediately blows up around her. What an ending! And what a fun series. I haven't even got round to the giant brain or the fetuses. This was made at the same time as Tom Baker was having a high old time with his Mrs, Lalla Ward, on the budget and strike-hit fag end of his residency in the Tardis, and it shows - there's the same degree of shambolic production values and plotting-by-numbers going on by both Douglas Adams at Doctor Who and Chris Boucher at Blake's 7. But in the end, both of them turned out some glorious stuff, hugely entertaining successes and failures that lit up my childhood and made me the nerdy telly addict I am today. Thank god my brother had the boxed set. Now I want season 4!
I wasn't so much of a fan of the original line-up. Flicky Jenna, boring Gan and vain thesp Blake were better off dead in my book. And one big criticism of series 3 by fans is that it had lost its sense of quest: Blake was always trying to ferment revolution in the first two, and Avon had gone Blake crazy by the 4th, but in the third our anti-heroes seemed happy to potter about playing board games and get tricked into handing the Liberator over to the federation every other story. The thing is, I always thought the quest was a bit boring. I prefered them when they were just arsing about being sneered at by Avon (Paul Darrow doing a similar trick to his peer Tom Baker of delivering his lines quickly and in a monotone so that you always felt you were watching someone a bit other-worldly).
The big treat this season was the arrival of Someone Who Could Really Act. Josette Simon's many glittering post-Blake credits attest to her versatility, but I'm glad the BBC got to her first. Dayna, introduced in the first story of the season, hiding out with her medallion-man dad on a rough old planet covered in horse-riding barbarians, is a deadly weapons expert. Well, she was in this and about two other of the stories this season when they remembered it. But no matter what she was given, Josette was as dignifed as it was possible to be when playing a harp in a dream sequence, arguing with Servalan about who looks best in an assymetric toga or snogging both Avon and Tarrant. Both Dayna and Josette's talents were squandered, but even so it was great having her being sarky and stunningly beautiful on the Liberator – especially when intelligent, strong black women characters were virtually unknown on British telly.
But the next story introduces us to Tarrant, Somone With A Silly Voice. That was Stephen Pacey's big problem, really. Introduced as an alpha-male Blake-a-like, seemingly a Federation trooper till revealed as a naughty bandit, Tarrant spoke like someone taking the piss out of macho men on television. But, unlike Dayna, he gets loads to do. He's always teleporting down and shooting stuff, or arguing with Avon. But he never does anything remotely interesting. Even when, in the penultimate episode of this season, he turns up in a wig as his own brother engaged in a duel to the death with an android, you end up caring more about the brother than you do about Tarrant.
Cally gets tons to do. Like Tarrant, haunted Jan Leeming-lookalike and telepath Cally gets to play her own sibling in a particularly dull story, and then gets possessed in a totally bonkers episode where she ends up dolled up like Florence and the Machine and gets the rest of the crew to do magic tricks and sing. And she also snogs Avon, who is doing rather well out of the ladies this series considering he looks like Blackadder II. Cally also seems to teleport down everywhere despite the fact she's rubbish while trained warrior Dayna is left behind to push buttons and invent bombs she hides in her own mouth (bizarrely).
Vila. Now there was a man after my own heart. Coward, joker, dreamer and utter failure, Vila didn't get to do much ths series other than moan at Orac and Zen, drink green liquid and - oh yes - become leader of the world in one of the best ever stories, City at the Edge of the World. That was the things about series 3 - there wasn't much point, but some of the stories were fantastic. It's tremendously good fun. Well, apart from Volcano, which makes absolutely no sense and has an overuse of terrible stock footage, and Moloch, which has such a spectacularly bad ending that you almost feel dirty for having watched it.
But Avon and Servalan really dominate the season. Avon is rather passive, considering the weakness of the Federation at the start of the season following the intergalactic war, so Servalan does all of the chasing. And she crops up in almost every story, slinking about in her ugly dead baby crocodile spaceship and trying to get her hands on the Liberator. And you can see why - it's bloody cool. Zen is up there with K9 for me as most lamented childhood loss. Considering she's so powerful, Servalan shows she's a very hands-on kinda manager. She's always hiding behind the next door or chained to the wall round the corner. But you get some sense of her importance in the brilliant Rumours of Death, set in a stately home on earth she's had reconstructed, where hoards of guards are protecting her from the rebels. Avon is understandably annoyed that the one woman he ever loved - Anna Grant - turned out to be the Federation's best agent. Still, they get to snog, and he also snogs Servalan twice, turning him into the unlikeliest sex object in the universe. Amazing what a bit of black leather will do.
The finale, Terminal, is bloody brilliant. Very subdued and atmospheric. Avon off on a mysterious mission, thinks he's found Blake, oops, no, it's Servalan again, natch. The Liberator takes a bath in some corrosive fungi which basically covers the whole ship with snot and kills it. And when Servalan finally gets her manicured nails on it the whole thing immediately blows up around her. What an ending! And what a fun series. I haven't even got round to the giant brain or the fetuses. This was made at the same time as Tom Baker was having a high old time with his Mrs, Lalla Ward, on the budget and strike-hit fag end of his residency in the Tardis, and it shows - there's the same degree of shambolic production values and plotting-by-numbers going on by both Douglas Adams at Doctor Who and Chris Boucher at Blake's 7. But in the end, both of them turned out some glorious stuff, hugely entertaining successes and failures that lit up my childhood and made me the nerdy telly addict I am today. Thank god my brother had the boxed set. Now I want season 4!
Sunday, 26 April 2009
Forget Mexican Swine Flu...
I definitely don't want what they had in Primeval last night. In an episode reminiscent of The Silurians, one of the very best Jon Pertwee Doctor Who stories, a prehistoric fungus spreads through London creating panic. Even the famous railway station scene, that disaster-movie classic setting, is recreated at beautiful St Pancras.
I particularly liked the stupid personification of the fungi as a Marvel Comics-type Thing. If I have one criticism of the revived Doctor Who it has been the relative lack of traditional monster fare. I want more exploding fungal bogey-men on telly. Preferably during Loose Women.
With those scary stories of swine flu all over the media, this episode was oddly more topical than a cheeseball teatime sci-fi show about dinosaurs probably should be. But then I'm easily carried away. I remember after I saw Shaun of the Dead I caught sight of my eyes, red with conjunctivitis, and went to bed thinking there were zombies banging at the window all night.
I particularly liked the stupid personification of the fungi as a Marvel Comics-type Thing. If I have one criticism of the revived Doctor Who it has been the relative lack of traditional monster fare. I want more exploding fungal bogey-men on telly. Preferably during Loose Women.
With those scary stories of swine flu all over the media, this episode was oddly more topical than a cheeseball teatime sci-fi show about dinosaurs probably should be. But then I'm easily carried away. I remember after I saw Shaun of the Dead I caught sight of my eyes, red with conjunctivitis, and went to bed thinking there were zombies banging at the window all night.
Monday, 13 April 2009
Waiting for Goddard
Good to see Jim Bergerac's arch-nemesis, aristo jewel-thief Phillipa Vale, alive and well in Doctor Who. Sadly she's regenerated from 'bubbly' Give Us A Clue stalwalt Liza Goddard. Not sure that dry bleached perm would have survived the alien desert.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Blinking 'eck
Doctor Who cast a long shadow over Primeval this week. In a good way. Clearly they've realised there's been a lack of atmosphere and suspense in the series up till now, and attempts are being made to spook it up a bit. Hence, mythical beasts from the past, supernatural overtones and horror movie devices. Haunted house: check. Spooky girl in a red coat: check. Kids disappearing years ago: check. Hapless comic relief guy: check.
There were loads of things I liked about this episode, in fact it may be my favourite so far. Firstly, they kept the dull characters out of it and focussed on the freakishly made-over Abby, dappy Connor and Claudia Brown or whatever the fuck she's called these days. Secondly they did the excellent genre trick of stealing from the best, so there were tons of parallels with Stephen Moffatt's Doctor Who stories, especially the blood-curdling Blink, as well as with Stephen King. Thirdly, they kept the story small and claustrophobic rather than the old Primeval 'let a Mammoth loose on the M1' tactic. On the downside there's now so many regular characters that it's turning into cretaceous Crossroads. I'm hoping this means there will be a bloodbath of the boring before the end of the series.
And suddenly I have a whole new reason to watch. Oh yes. Detective Danny Quinn, played by the stupendously sexy Jason Flemyng. I mean, really. Proper acting and everything. Which it bloody well needs to compensate for Becker: Vin Diesel played by Jimmy Carr. Not that Flemyng needs to act to keep me watching. He just needs to frown, wiggle those hyper-mobile eyebrows and say absolutely anything with that syrup-over-sandpaper voice of his. Swoon.
There were loads of things I liked about this episode, in fact it may be my favourite so far. Firstly, they kept the dull characters out of it and focussed on the freakishly made-over Abby, dappy Connor and Claudia Brown or whatever the fuck she's called these days. Secondly they did the excellent genre trick of stealing from the best, so there were tons of parallels with Stephen Moffatt's Doctor Who stories, especially the blood-curdling Blink, as well as with Stephen King. Thirdly, they kept the story small and claustrophobic rather than the old Primeval 'let a Mammoth loose on the M1' tactic. On the downside there's now so many regular characters that it's turning into cretaceous Crossroads. I'm hoping this means there will be a bloodbath of the boring before the end of the series.
And suddenly I have a whole new reason to watch. Oh yes. Detective Danny Quinn, played by the stupendously sexy Jason Flemyng. I mean, really. Proper acting and everything. Which it bloody well needs to compensate for Becker: Vin Diesel played by Jimmy Carr. Not that Flemyng needs to act to keep me watching. He just needs to frown, wiggle those hyper-mobile eyebrows and say absolutely anything with that syrup-over-sandpaper voice of his. Swoon.
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