The Zygon Invasion / The Zygon Inversion

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This, for me, is a story of two halves. The first episode has its moments but just seems to annoy the hell out of me for some reason.

Well, for several reasons.

Firstly, the Zygon’s additional powers: why? You take a perfectly good Doctor Who monster and you power it up. Not only can they now copy people’s body patterns, but they can copy body patterns from people’s memories and then use their own memories against them. And from a long, long way away too. That makes them more difficult to kill because the last thing you want to do if you’re a soldier is to be confronted by something or someone that makes you think about what you are about to kill. But, why? It shows a distinct lack of faith in your choice of monster.

Secondly, why hire an actress like Rebecca Front and then give her next to bugger all to do. Oh, and add insult to injury by making her character's exit so pathetic. Exit pursued by barely any character development. 

Thirdly, why is Clara a virtual superhero? I like Clara a lot, but she can resist Zygon podding – for want of a better word. Of course, I know the answer is that if she can’t resist podding then we miss out on some rather wonderful scenes between Clara and Zygon-Clara aka Bonnie aka Zygella. But why can't other people resist it? Especially those who know what they're up against?

Wat The Zygon Invasion/Inversion does though it is to prove that Jenna Coleman is a bloody good actress. I forget until I re-watch a Clara story how good she is. So, after all that negativity here’s some positivity.

I like to be positive about my Doctor Who, but I really struggled with The Zygon Invasion. Even as it built up to a fine cliffhanger. I kept wanting to skip through it. Plus, I’m pissed off at the way the killed off Jac (Jaye Griffiths). It’s like they felt someone in UNIT had to die but they didn’t want it to be anyone important. But she died and no one seemed to care. *

Which brings me on to something else: forgiveness. Forgiveness is a strong part of The Zygon Inversion. The Doctor’s willingness to forgive Bonnie for what she’s done is the foundation the return to the peace treaty is based on. What gives the Doctor that right? Bonnie has killed lots of humans and Zygons, but the Doctor doesn’t even wipe her memory because he thinks she’s learned her lesson because she’s gone a bit Clara? I love the Doctor’s speech in The Zygon Inversion, but I’d like to see his point of view challenged a bit more and not by Zygella but by Kate.

Kate has lost soldiers and Jac – who I assume is a friend of sorts as well as a colleague. That’s not counting everyone else who died at Zygella’s hands, but Kate gives in first to the Doctor’s blandishments and this subject barely gets a mention.

Like the Thirteenth Doctor’s outright refusal to kill Tim Shaw – I’m jumping ahead here – I want to hear someone say, ‘Hang on, what gives you that right. What price will we pay for not killing him.’ And The Doctor's willingness to forgive to the degree that Zygella goes from wanting war to becoming the new Osgood is miraculous. But perhaps that’s as much to do with Osgood trusting her as anything else, but still. That’s a leap in trust I’m not sure I’d be willing to make. The Doctor is obviously right when it comes to forgiveness being the foundation of peace, which is a lesson humanity seems keen not to ever learn. We prefer peace built on punishment. True forgiveness is hard, which is why I’d like the Doctor to get challenged about it more thoroughly. Here is the Doctor in genuine Jesus mode. 

About Osgood: Ingrid Oliver is brilliant. The whole idea that she is unwilling to reveal whether she is Zygon or Human because she is the core part of how peace is kept. The Osgood Box is rather clever too. Your prize is not quite the prize you think it is. She who wins shall lose to steal a quote from elsewhere. 

Yes, the Doctor’s whole speech – and Capaldi’s performance – is brilliant. I’m a particular sucker for the moment he says, ‘And do you know what you do with all that pain? Shall I tell you where you put it? You hold it tight… till it burns your hand, and you say this: No one else will ever have to live like this! No one else will have to feel this pain! Not on my watch!’ That, more than anything else, seems to be the perfect explanation for the Doctor’s ‘mission’.

I’ve rambled on a lot about the bees that this story released in my bonnet, rather than giving a full review, which is what these blogs are about really. Doctor Who is a television show that has had a lot written about it so if what you want is just a breakdown of the storyline then they are easy enough to find. I write these blogs because I love Doctor Who and I like to work out what the hell it is about each story that I like and hopefully people find it interesting. 

*A perennial Doctor Who problem this. After all, if the series stopped to properly mourn the death of every passing character then it would have a whole different set of problems. But sometimes a character that’s played a pretty major role in a story, who seems to be friends with other major characters dies and no one mentions it or seems to care.

The Girl Who Died / The Woman Who Lived

These two episodes are ostensibly a two-parter linked as they are by the character of Ashildr (Maisie Williams). But they don’t follow immediately on from each other. Indeed, The Girl Who Died is written by Jamie Mathieson and Steven Moffat, and The Woman Who Lived is written by Catherine Tregenna. 

The Girl Who Died seems to be a straightforward base under siege story – if the base is a Viking village. The Doctor and Clara turn up and defeat the enemy with a combination of intelligence and potential internet-based humiliation.

In the process though we’ve been introduced to Ashildr, who is a young Viking woman who immediately draws the Doctor’s attention. Ashildr is different. She’s a dreamer and a creator. It is her creation that helps defeat the Mire (for that is the name of the cruel but easily dispatched enemy.) Unfortunately, the process of saving her village kills Ashildr.

But the Doctor is in one of his moods. He’s tired of losing people so, after a moment of reminding himself why he chose his current face - which is a scene I like - he decides to save Ashildr using a chip cobbled together from Mire technology. In doing so though he doesn’t consider – or doesn’t want to consider – the consequences, which is that he has made Ashildr functionally immortal. He doesn’t dwell on that for long, but he is aware that he might have made a mistake. The Doctor also throws in the first mention of ‘hybrid’. This we are given to believe might turn out to be important because of how it is played. We shall see.

The episode ends, not with a cliffhanger, but with a beautifully filmed scene.  We see Ashildr looking at the countryside and sky. Then we realize that time is passing. We watch as the sun rises and falls. Faster and faster. * And as we watch Ashildr’s expression changes. It’s a brilliant short-cut to show the impact of immortality on Ashildr. Everyone involved deserves a round of applause: the writers, Ed Bazelgatte, the Director and Maisie Williams as Ashildr. It still has an impact now on re-watch even though I know it is coming.

The Woman Who Lived picks up much later. We are in England and it is the time of the Commonwealth and Cromwell. Ashildr – or Me as she now prefers to be called – is a highwayman. And she’s got a plan to get her off the planet. Whatever the theoretical plot of this episode – an alien has an artifact and plans to use it to do something nefarious – that’s not the point of it at all. This is an episode that – for all its laughs, often provided by Sam Swift (Rufus Hound) – is a meditation on immortality and the consequences of the Doctor’s involvement in the world.

Ashildr/Me’s life, which is we can see stretching out before us represented by shelf after shelf of her diaries**, is a living reminder of what happens when the Doctor gets involved in your life without thinking of the consequences. It’s also a reminder that immortality is not all it is cracked up to be, which I think is an ongoing theme of Steven Moffat’s Doctor Who: the value of a short life lived to the full versus the cold, cold emotional life of an immortal. There are only so many family members, friends, lovers and children you can lose before it starts to make you cold-hearted. Unless, as the Doctor does, you travel with us mayflies to remind yourself of the value of life.

Ashildr/Me has managed to convince herself that she doesn’t care for anyone. She doesn’t even remember all the people she’s known and loved. Her initial home, which she would have died for, and her father are all memories she has lost. She has written down what she can remember but has torn out some of the pages because those are the most painful of her memories except she has kept those pages that describe the death of her children though as a reminder never to have any more.

Ashildr’s story is heartbreaking, but the Doctor – and her own actions – draw her out of herself and (almost) final scenes have her and the Doctor talking over a pint about why he can’t take her with him and why she will now spend her time tidying up after the Doctor’s interference on Earth. Once more The Doctor is accused of running away. Of not dealing with the consequences of his actions and there’s a good case to be made on that score and not just with the stories set on Earth. I'm always reminded of the end of 'Creature of the Pit' when the Doctor and Romana leave without considering whether they're leaving the right people in charge. I have always wanted to write a series of short stories outlining what happens in various places after the Doctor has left.

The interesting thing about The Woman Who Lived is we are without Clara so that The Doctor and Ashildr/Me can be given the dramatic weight it deserves. Clara would have been a distraction. Here the Doctor is forced to face the consequences of his actions, even if he feels that he isn’t entirely to blame for what Ashildr has become. But then he admits to having seen her before now and not saying anything or doing anything, which seems harsh to me.

This is a fine two-parter. It plays with the format. It’s well-directed and well-written, even if the two episodes don’t seem to be too plot-heavy. It’s the arc of Ashildr/Me that makes it excellent. There’s some good acting too. Not just from Capaldi and Coleman, which goes without saying these days. Although I’d say some of Capaldi’s scenes with Maisie Williams are amongst his best work in the part. I also enjoyed Maisie Williams's performance and I’m assuming she’s going to pop up again before we’re done. Plus, a round of applause for Rufus Hound who I enjoyed a lot as the useless but important Sam Swift.

This didn’t reach the heights of The Wizard’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar, which is the season’s strongest story so far, but it managed to combine telling a story and examining the Doctor’s life without becoming either boring or self-indulgent.

*It reminds me of the description of what the Time Traveler sees in H.G. Wells’ ‘The Time Machine’, which may be its genesis.

**A personal line of thought I went meandering along at this point is when did she start writing these and in what language. We’re the first volumes in Viking Runes? Did she learn Old English and did she change as the language changed or did she have to re-learn English as it developed.

Under The Lake/Before The Flood

Well, that was a base under siege story with a nicely creepy atmosphere, a dash of timey-wimey plot diddling and some good performances from both the whole cast.

Written by Toby Whitehouse it didn’t quite have the panache of Series 9’s first story, ‘The Magician’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar.’ But it did feel sufficiently Moffatesque that it couldn’t have really come from any other era in the programme’s history, even if the ‘base under siege’ is a Doctor Who staple. There’s something about the scenes with the Doctor and Bennett (Arsher Ali) watching their earlier selves that are signature Moffat era, even though it wasn’t written by him.

Under The Lake also features an absolutely brilliant cliffhanger. Because New Doctor Who doesn’t do huge numbers of multi-part stories there aren’t a lot of cliffhangers but this one is a peach. And it makes you realize that sometimes Doctor Who is the Columbo of science-fiction series. We know, however bad the cliffhanger makes things look, that the Doctor is going to get out of this corner, but what we want is a good explanation as to how they* do it. This cliffhanger is fabulous. The Doctor’s get out doesn’t quite match it, although the seeds for it are sketched out throughout Under The Lake and then explained in Before The Flood. Perhaps cliffhanger disappointment is a regular thing for Doctor Who fans.

Under The Lake does all the heavy lifting as it introduces us to characters and then bumps them off. Indeed, one of them – Moran (Colin Macfarlane**) dies before the Doctor and Clara even turns up. Except for the slightly cliched capitalist greedhead Pritchard (Steven Robertson) who the Doctor gets to treat with exactly the right amount of contempt you would expect they’re a sympathetic bunch, which makes you care – at least a little – as some of them die. I think one of Whitehouse’s strengths here is that you feel that this is a crew that knows and likes each other. 

It includes Cass (Sophie Leigh Stone), who is the temporary base commander after Moran’s death. The interesting thing is that Cass is deaf. She can read lips but has a sign translator in Lunn (Zaqi Ismail). No one quibbles about her ability to do her job and it adds a certain frisson to a scene in Before The Flood. Sophie Leigh Hunt who is deaf 'in real life'*** does an excellent job too. There’s a lovely scene between her and Jenna Coleman after they’ve sent Lunn off to do a dangerous job. Her anger is rather lovely.

Talking of Jenna Coleman – he says, shifting topics with all the subtlety of a Panzer Tank – this is the first story where her behavior is starting to concern the Doctor. We hear of the Doctor’s ‘duty of care’. Once again Coleman is rather wonderful. I know people have issues with Clara as a companion, but I think Coleman’s performance is top-notch. And since Moffat’s let go of ‘mysterious Clara’, she’s blossomed. And she and Capaldi are such a good team.

Peter Capaldi too is brilliant. He nudged Tom Baker off the top spot in my favorite Doctor list and I love everything he does here. Yes, sometimes there are things which I think seem unnecessary – the cards here for example – but Capaldi’s acting just hammers home scene after scene. I think he’s the best actor to play the part. And he’s got real charisma too.

Before The Flood introduces us to Prentis (Paul Kaye), a Tivolian undertaker. The Tivolian’s being the rodenty most cowardly race in the universe introduced in The God Complex. And, more importantly, The Fisher King (Neil Fingleton) who is the villain of the piece. We are also introduced to the concept of ‘the bootstrap paradox’ via a nice little lecture to the camera by the Doctor. It’s an interesting beginning to an episode that lecture. It gives us a little rest before throwing us back into things. A kind of palate cleanser before we’re back into the adventure.

Indeed, it will turn out that this story is a variation on Time Crash but without the other Doctor. The Doctor’s solution to his very real difficulty is already known to him because he’s seen it. So, he just does what he’s heard or seen already. Who then came up with those ideas? It’s quite philosophical a theme. You can imagine whole semesters in Gallifreyan Universities on bootstrap paradoxes.

The Doctor – as usual – works things out. Perhaps one of the weaknesses of this story is that although it has a delightful level of creepiness, particularly in ‘Under The Lake’ the Fisher King himself never feels that much of a threat. And the Doctor’s victory seems to have come at minimal cost, for him. But not for Bennett, who seems to suffer the most at the loss of O’Donnell (Morven Christie). He uses that loss to…well...spoilers. 

So overall an enjoyable couple of episodes without being spectacular. And there’s nothing wrong with that. If every Doctor Who story was spectacular we’d have to adjust our expectations and something would end up not being quite so spectacular.

*I have just realized that the advent of Jodie Whitaker’s Doctor means that the default ‘he’ for Doctors just don’t apply anymore. Ah, change.

**Who I saw being brilliant in Pinter Five at the Harold Pinter Theatre in London, particularly his two-hander with Rupert Graves in ‘Victoria Station’, which was funny as hell.

***That seems such a dumb thing to say. Forgive me if it is. I try. I really do. 

The Magician's Apprentice / The Witch's Familiar

So, The Magician's Apprentice and The Witch's Familiar kicks off Series 9 in an entertaining style.

Firstly we find ourselves on Skaro. There's a child trapped in a field of hand mines. His life is at risk. The Doctor shows up and promises to help. Until the child tells him his name. Then, well, then the Doctor seems to do something un-Doctorish. This takes a metaphorical argument that the Doctor uses in Genesis of the Daleks and makes it a literal moral challenge.

The Doctor has apparently disappeared, which is concerning to everyone but particularly Missy who has received a Confession Dial from him. That's a bad sign from a Time Lord point of view. We find ourselves joining Missy and Clara as the zip off to 11th century England to find him.

And find him we do. He's throwing a party. With a tank, an electric guitar and some sunglasses. This is the Doctor as rock and roll star. It turns out that he's been invited to see Davros who is dying. Allegedly. Davros sent out his serpentine servent Colony Sarff (Jami Reid-Quarrell) out to find him. Colony Sarff is a fine invention and I like the way an interesting idea is bought to life. He's certainly a little creepy.

Skipping along the Doctor, Missy and Clara find themselves held on a space station about which the Doctor is suspicious but he is taken away to meet Davros before the truth is revealed. There's great chemistry between the three of them, but I particularly love Missy's amused contempt for Clara. who she treats like an annoying child. I don't know if I've commented much on Michelle Gomez's performance as Missy so far but this was the story when I finally fell in love with it. She's brilliant throughout. Odd, but nasty. Funny, but cruel. And she's clever, which I like. She's not going to have rings run around her by the Doctor.

We are led nicely towards a mighty cliffhanger with a great revelation. It's looking bad for the Doctor, but then when doesn't it.

The Witch's Familiar picks up where we were. And things take a turn. The scenes between the Doctor and Davros (Julian Bleach) are brilliant. I'd go as far as to say that Bleach is the best Davros since Michael Wisher. He brings out a breadth in Davros that is sometimes missed. Their conversations feel like they've just picked up from their chat in Genesis of the Daleks, although there is an element of Alan Moore and Brian Bollard's 'Killing Joke' in there this time around.

Davros is trying to use the Doctor's compassion against him and to trap him. Everyone - The Doctor, Clara, and Missy knew it was a trap - but the Doctor walks into it anyway and then flips it all around and screws Davros over. Like always. One of the problems with recurring villains in something like Doctor Who is why, once the Doctor arrives, they bother going on with their plans. They always lose. I mean if I was The Master/Missy or whoever as soon as the Doctor arrived I'd pack my bags and go off somewhere else. I actually quite like the idea of a story whereupon The Doctor's arrival the Master (or whoever) decides to quit and the story shows how the Doctor thwarts even this limited ambition.

The Doctor wins, although Missy tries to stitch him up near the end in a rather unpleasant manner as is her wont. The Missy-Doctor relationship feels the more like a friendship that has gone awry than usual, although it was there with Delgado and in little bits with Simm. Missy wants the Doctor's attention and friendship again but can't help but sabotage the attempt by some act of cruelty.

It's a good start to a season that will be made up almost entirely of two-part stories, which is a brave choice from Steven Moffat. There are some wonderful performances - and I haven't raved about Capaldi much this time even though I could rave for hours about how brilliant he is. But Julian Bleach, Michelle Gomez and Jenny Coleman are equally good. The dialogue - mostly - sparkles. The different interactions between them all - in the various combinations - work wonderfully.

On a final note, there's something very Doctor Who about zombie Dalek sludge.

Last Christmas

Let us travel back to Christmas Day 2014. Our presents have been opened, we're stuffed with Turkey and Christmas Pudding and wearing our wilting and slightly torn Christmas cracker hats. It's time for Doctor Who. It's time for Last Christmas.

I really enjoyed this. And you know I'm going to say it. I think that Steven Moffat's Christmas Specials are amongst my favourite episodes of post-2005 Doctor Who. Actually, sod the prevaricating about dates they're amongst my favourite episodes of Doctor Who. Ever.

Yes, they can be twee. But it is Christmas Day. If we can't all go a little soft-hearted for one day of the year then what I demand is the point of anything. Let us wallow in our own Weltschmerz and crack on.

We begin with Santa Claus. Or Father Christmas. He's crash landed on Clara's roof with a couple of snarky Elves and woken poor Clara up. She, clad only in a nightdress so appearing as a sort of female Arthur Dent, has come to find out what's going on. And from here all sorts of shenanigans occur.

There is danger. There's an alien threat. Obviously. There's an isolated base at the North Pole. So far so base under siege. But then there are dreams. And dreams within dreams. And dreams within dreams within dreams.  And, most importantly, there's Santa. Here to save everyone on this Christmas Day. Played rather magnificently by Nick Frost at peak Nick Frost. If there was a role made for Nick Frost it is Santa Claus. He bounces off Peter Capaldi well and gets to be all cuddly and avuncular.

There's also the four members of the base. There's Shona (Faye Marsay), Ashley (Natalie Gumede), Fiona (Maureen Beattie) and Albert (Michael Troughton). Why they are all at the base is, of course, a long story but at the base, they are and threatened by things that go face-hugging in the night, which gives us the set-up for a rather nice 'Alien' joke. All four of them are excellently played by poor Ashley has the least interesting character. Shona is another in the long line of 'almost companions'. Characters so well-played and interesting that you'd quite happily have them join the TARDIS.

This story definitely wears its influences with pride. Indeed, there's pretty much a list of them towards the end: Alien, The Thing and Inception are the three most obvious. And you know I don't find that annoying. One of the great things about Doctor Who has been the way it takes an idea from somewhere else and Doctor Whoifies it up. And Last Christmas throws all its influences together like the ingredients from what's left in my kitchen cupboard at the end of the month when money is scarce and turns it into a surprisingly delicious stew type thing.*

Anyway, there's adventure and excitement and really wild stuff. But there's also tenderness and a little sadness. Clara and The Doctor reveal that they both lied to each other in order to make the other happy, which in the end probably hasn't made either of them happy. Clara slaps the Doctor again about which I am not happy, but it is slightly more justifiable here than it is in Into The Dalek. I still don't like it.

The scenes with Clara and Danny at 'Christmas' manage to be both rather moving and creepy at the same time. I really wish Samuel Anderson had been given more of a run as he's such a good actor but it was not to be. Poor Danny Pink.

This might have been Jenna Coleman's last Doctor Who story and the ending clearly could have been one thing, but she decided to stay so we have the joy of seeing the Doctor and Clara heading off out into the Universe together again. It's a happy ending to a story that flirted...no, it petted heavily...with melancholy.

I really enjoyed this one. It kept me happily occupied on the journey to work this morning. It almost made me cry on the Bakerloo Line to Waterloo, which would have been mildly embarrassing.

Merry Christmas.

Next up. Season Nine.

PS I tried not to spoil this too much. I hope it worked.





*No, that's not a metaphor - or is it a simile - that's going to take off any time soon.

Dark Water/Death in Heaven

So, the first Capaldi season comes to an end. We get to find out who Missy is, which didn't turn out to be a huge surprise. We get an explanation for all the little scenes Missy has with the dead. We get to discover that Missy put the Doctor and Clara together but I'm not entirely sure why. We get to see the Cybermen's role twist from the ultimate survivors to electronic Zombies. It's the Walking Dead with circuits.

O, and the whole soldier thing comes to an end with the fate of Danny Pink and the Doctor's salute. Death in Heaven was broadcast on Remembrance Weekend in the UK and I did wonder whether the soldier theme of this series was built in because Steven Moffat knew that, which might be giving him too much credit. But if not it seems like a nice coincidence. Danny is a living illustration of the truth expressed a long time ago by the Earl of Leicester in The Crusade: '...when you men of eloquence have stunned each other with your words, we, we the soldiers, have to face out. On some half-started morning, while you speakers lie abed, armies settle everything, giving sweat, sinewed bodies, aye, and life itself.'

Leicester was wrong about the Doctor then and Danny is wrong about the Doctor now. Quite why Steven Moffat feels the need to break down the Doctor's character quite so much I don't know. It obviously seems to be part of Missy's plan, which is to present the Doctor with an army with which he can take over the Universe in the name of good but this seems to be the classic Christmas present purchasing mistake of Dads the world over: buying something for your child that is really for you. I mean why would the Doctor want an army? As soon as he took control of it he would no longer be the Doctor anymore. Missy, on the other hand, would love an army. She's missed the point. Whatever kind of friendship they once had they can never have again. Or perhaps they can but it would need Missy to change not the Doctor. And that's not going to happen, is it?

Anyway, let me rewind a bit.

This story begins with [SPOILERS] the death of Danny Pink. It is followed up with Clara's grief-stricken reaction to Danny's death. She goes off the rails, frankly. It becomes all about her and her grief. But then perhaps that is what grief does to people. She tries to force the Doctor into finding Danny 'wherever he is'. There's a lot of emotion in this. The Doctor though refuses to be blackmailed (and/or sees through Clara's plot*). He does, however, agree to help her despite her actions. That little speech that ends with 'Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?' is bloody fantastic.

The next thing we know we're inside an odd-looking building with skeletons sitting in chairs, Missy popping up to snog the Doctor and drop hints about who she is and Dr. Chang (Andrew Leung). Meanwhile, Danny is being introduced to the afterlife by Seb (a rather delightful Chris Addison). The stories run in parallel building towards the revelation of a) Cybermen and b) who Missy is. It's all done reasonably well, although I was slightly surprised that they got away with the cremation stuff, even allowing for the warnings, etc.

And then we're into the hour-long final episode Death in Heaven, which frankly I can't stand.

Yes, we get to see UNIT again, which is nice. But really this is an exercise in giving the Doctor and Clara a good emotional kicking - and us - for the sake of one small speech about being an idiot. Missy being barking mad seems to be the excuse for all of this death and destruction. The theory is she's somehow been taking the 'souls' of human beings since forever and tucking them away in a piece of Time Lord technology so that she can drop the - emotionally cleansed - 'souls' in Cyber bodies to build an army. And that no one noticed.

But let's not dwell on that. Missy has a history of insane plans that fall apart at the end, although here she comes close to winning.

However, love saves the day again as CyberDanny refuses to be a Cyberman, gives a lovely speech about the promise of a soldier and then kills himself and all the other Cybermen to bring an end to the Cyber rain. Love. Love will tear us apart.

[SPOILER]

O, and then the CyberBrigadier turns up. Now, nothing makes me happier than seeing a character we fondly remember played by an actor who had fairly recently died made into a zombie. Even if that zombie can hold off its Cyber conditioning and do the right thing. Hey, the salute is nice. But hey, let's not.

I don't know why entirely but Death in Heaven really pisses me off. It's bleak. No one seriously believes Missy is dead at the end. No one seriously believes anyone is dead as Steven Moffat proves himself unable to kill anyone. So it makes a story predicated on grief seem lacking in emotional heft. It's a lesson I think he learned and which I will talk about again later.

The end of this story - before Nick Frost appears - is genuinely bleak. I don't think Doctor Who should be this bleak. I don't think the Doctor should be hammered into the ground like that. Doctor Who is one of the few sources of optimism and positivity on television. I've said before that I liked the idea of 'dark Doctor Who' but the truth is 'dark Doctor Who' wouldn't be Doctor Who. The Doctor saves people. She doesn't save everyone and sometimes he doesn't save the best people.**

I'm not saying there shouldn't be loss and death in the Doctor Who universe. Death is everywhere in it: explicit and implicit but the Doctor is there to remind us that, as Gandhi said, that however bleak it looks and however strong the bad guys look they always lose. That 'You must not lose faith in Humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.' That's what the Doctor should stand for.

Perhaps, once again, I am taking this too seriously. Perhaps I have missed the point.

Whatever, I just don't like it. That isn't to say there aren't some good things in here. Capaldi is superb. Again. So is Jenna Coleman. Michelle Gomez does a fine job as Missy giving her a nice touch of both the Simm insanity and the Delgado wit. She's one of the highlights of the programme. It's nice to see Jemma Redgrave as Kate Stewart and Ingrid Oliver as Osgood. They've both settled into their parts.

But overall I really didn't like this. Dark Water was fine but Death in Heaven really didn't do it for me at all.

Next up: Last Christmas.


*Which also seems to fall down on the fact that the Doctor can open the TARDIS door with a click of his fingers these days. He doesn't NEED a key.

**And don't get me started on this recent thing that the Doctor only takes the best people into the TARDIS, which is a way of making everyone feel better about being a Doctor Who fan. The Doctor doesn't take the best people. He takes ordinary people and lets them find their best.

In The Forest of the Night

I suspect how you feel about Frank Cottrell-Boyce's In The Forest of the Night will be similar to your feelings about Kill The Moon. Because this is not a science-fiction story, for all its talk of solar flares. This is a fairy tale.

The TARDIS almost functions as the witch's house tucked in the middle of the forest. Except the Doctor is a good witch - or a good Dalek - not a wicked one. There are children. Many, many children. Some of whom, I'm afraid, set off my dislike of child actors. The ones who seem to have walked straight out of some horrific stage school and straight on to my screen. The ones with all the subtlety of a concrete block.

However, I found Abigail Eames, who plays Maebh Arden, reasonably good most of the time. And there, in her name, is a clue to what this story is riffing off: Queen Mab and the Forest of Arden. The role of forests in literature - especially Shakespeare - as a place of magic and fairies. The forests of As You Like It or A Midsummer Night's Dream. The forest perhaps of Robert Holdstock's Mythago Wood too. The forest of myth not the forests of the real world.

Also, there's a famous speech by Mercutio in Romeo & Juliet about Queen Mab - and Maebh/Mab are probably the same names just twisted by time and place - which begins:

"O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you

She is the fairies midwife..."

Which, at a stretch, is a fair description of Maebh's role in the proceedings. 

Or perhaps I'm trying too hard. 

However, I'm sticking with the fairy tale thing because it is just so damned obvious. There's Maebh's 'Red Riding Hood' pursued by wolves, Maebh lays a trail for others to follow etc. 

Analyzing this as science-fiction is a mistake but even allowing for that and the long argument that could be had about how much of a science-fiction series Doctor Who actually is this pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable in Doctor Who. I think the problem I had was hammering the fairy tale into the real world and suggesting trees have saved us before. Or if not the trees then some kind of mysterious life force that flitters about like a firefly. It's wishful thinking. 

And this is a story full of wishful thinking. Maebh isn't ill, she's listening to a different conversation, which is sweet but seems to suggest that not taking your medication is the way to set you free. The trees will save us almost seems to be a prayer about climate change. If humanity won't save itself - which it looks determined not to because it might be a bit hard - then maybe the planet will do it for us. Me, I'm more of a pessimist. I think the planet might have had enough of us. But that's a blog for an entirely different time and place. The wishful thinking that a message on every phone in the world from an unknown little girl would somehow stop humanity from being stupid. It's a nice thought. I'd suggest the history of the world suggests it wouldn't work.

If this story had taken place in the distant past or on an alt-Earth or something then it might not feel so...wrong.

I'm loathed to say anything is 'not really Doctor Who' because that's usually a phrase used by people to write off whole chunks of Doctor Who they don't like, e.g. New Doctor Who. But this teeters on the brink of 'not really Doctor Who' for me. And I hate* myself for even writing that phrase.

Having said all of that the main reason I didn't particularly like this story was that the Doctor is so stupid in it. It takes him far, far too long to work out what's going on. He starts from the worst-case scenario - an alien invasion - and never really gets himself back on track until right at the end. By which time it might as well have been spelled out in huge letters in the sky.

We also get a lot of Danny Pink and Clara relationship stuff, which is fine because I think Samuel Anderson is great but there's something uncomfortable about Clara's dishonesty, Danny's desire to be the ultimate arbiter of what is good and right for Clara and the Doctor's (almost) voyeuristic role. Maybe it is just me. 

And that's about all I have to say about this story. I'm out of energy and (almost) out of words. I don't hate it enough to wish to write raging prose demanding this be burned from the national consciousness. I don't like it much either. It is, I think, my least favorite story of the season - so far - just because I couldn't quite get on its wavelength, which is odd because I normally have a great love for Doctor Who's stranger children. 

I suspect I'll have forgotten pretty much this whole story by tomorrow evening. 

*I don't hate myself really. At least not for that.