The Sarah Jane Adventures: Sky

As the good Doctor heads off into the stars for his pre-Christmas break (well, he has had a busy year, what with not really dying and everything), one of his previous companions jumps back onto the screens – albeit for just three short weeks. Yup, it is time for the return of The Sarah Jane Adventures.

Any returning show runs the risk of not being quite as good as its last series – witness the nosedive in quality between Torchwood dealing with the Children of Earth and the unintentionally ironically named Miracle Day (the only miracle is that they were allowed to spread that boring farrago of nonsense across 10 weeks). Mercifully, Sky does not show any dip in quality. In fact, this is very much business as usual for The Sarah Jane Adventures. And that should be celebrated, because this series proves to be constantly entertaining.

The story zips along at a fast pace and is blessed, in Rani and Clyde, with two supporting characters (and the actors playing them, of course) that just work within the series. They are not so serious that they become boring. Nor are they so self-aware that they damage the drama. Rather, they fit in perfectly within the story and each play a convincing, and logically consistent, role within that story. Frankly, the tedious Gwen Cooper could learn a lot from Rani and Clyde.

There is also humour here, but it is not obtrusive. The banter between Rani’s parents, for example, or Sarah Jane’s attempts to explain away the fact that she has a new baby (and that baby goes from tiny to teenager across the course of one day) all help to keep the episodes light without undermining the story. Again, the performances help. This sort of story could very easily be over-acted and/or turned into a parody of itself. Instead, the actors seem to pitch it perfectly.

But what of the story? Well, it is safe to say that it is not exactly ground-breaking. In fact, after the River Song/Melody Pond saga in the most recent series of Doctor Who, a child with extraordinary power feels very familiar (and that’s without noting the similarities between Sky and elements of Delta and the Bannermen). But the story never becomes a shameless photocopy of previous entries into the Who universe. Yes, it may not be iconoclastic, but it does exactly what it needs to do – it entertains at the same time as introducing a new character into the series.

Ultimately, Sky is yet further evidence that this series has a firm place within the Doctor Who universe. It is never quite as good as the parent show, but it is streets ahead of the more often than not lamentable Torchwood. As such, it is always worth watching. So if you haven’t already discovered the The Sarah Jane Adventures, you should do so. Before it is too late.

Doctor Who: The Wedding of River Song

Now, there are certain very dramatic things that a writer can do in their show. Killing off the lead character is certainly one. Especially if that happens in the opening episode of the series, swiftly followed by a slow countdown to that actually happening within the overall narrative. And the drama is only intensified if it is a lead character of a show that has been running for 48 years with that same lead character at the heart of it (albeit played by different actors of varying levels of talent). As openings go, the murder of the Doctor on the side of Lake Silencio is a pretty impressive way to open up a season of Doctor Who. It does also make the season finale very difficult to write, and to pull off in a way that will convince even just some of the viewers, let alone all of them. So, how did Moffat get on with it all, then?

First up, you have to admire the ambition of this episode. To create a universe of static time, where Area 52 is installed by the USA in a pyramid, where Churchill has become and remains Caesar (and spends at least some time dancing with Cleopatra), and where an unexpectedly alive Doctor is a bearded soothsayer imprisoned in the Tower of London requires a pretty hyperactive imagination. Of course, sometimes ambition doesn't quite pay off in Doctor Who - if only in terms of the realisation, as evidenced here by the hot-air balloon Minis flying across London at the start of this episode. They looked very cartoon-like; so much so that it was slightly distracting. Yeah, we know they are not real, but do they really have to look that unreal? But overall the attempt to create an alternate universe worked well forever existing in the same second was nice, and a brilliant concept to boot. It was nice to see Charles Dickens talking about his next Christmas Special, and if we are going to have a massive info-dump throughout about half of the episode, then why not have it as a conversation between the Doctor and Winston Churchill?

This was also a relatively complicated narrative. While I believe even the most casual of viewers will have picked up on what was going on and followed the story if they were so inclined, the dual narratives - of the Doctor trying to save himself at the same time as River ruining his plans by trying to save him as well - was much more complicated than your standard RTD season finale. It was also nice how the stories dovetailed at the end, and we were given the Doctor back - after he asked a favour from the Teselecta rather than just walking moodily away. Furthermore, it is also good that the Doctor, as far as his enemies are concerned, died - therefore there can be no more getting his enemies to flee by reading books or by getting them to trawl their visual memory banks. This story leaves the Doctor as an unknown (except to his friends) mad man with a box - just the way the whole thing began.

It was also good to see Rory threatened with death but then being saved by his wife before he got wiped out (again). It was also nice that the script acknowledged that he keeps on dying. It would be even nicer if this drew a line under the whole Rory dies all the time thing. Let's not have episodes ending with the apparent death of Mr Pond. Unless, y'know, he actually does die.

And the moment when the Doctor decided he should go to face his destiny was brilliant, even if it did bring a tear to my eye. I thought that Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart would just vanish from the series, never to be heard of again. But after the death of the man who played him for decades, the show made the decision to let the Doctor know that one of his oldest and most loyal friends had also passed away. But the Brigadier never forgot the Doctor. He was always there, waiting for his mad old alien friend, with a glass of brandy. A wonderful little moment, played brilliantly by Smith, and a fitting tribute to Nicholas Courtney. I hope they find a way to do something as nice for the late Elisabeth Sladen.

But I'm skirting the issue here. There was much to enjoy, but was it the way in which the Doctor died but didn't ultimately satisfying? Well, no. Then again, it never could be. You cannot kill off your lead character and then not have killed him off without some sort of cop-out clause in your script. But here the episode did not, at least, do too badly. At least it wasn't obvious idea of the Flesh Doctor being killed on the beach; the use of the Teselecta was, at least for me, slightly more surprising. And since the Resurrection of the Doctor was always going to be a bit of a cop out, it is better that it was a slightly unexpected cop-out rather than the obvious one.

And there were other problems too. Not least the fact that Madame Kovarian and (in particular)the Silence were underused. Look, the Silence are a great enemy, Mr Moffat. Give them time to shine. Please, please, please can we have an episode next year where they are placed centre stage? Not just afterthoughts and the partial motive power to your overall narrative?

And while we're on the subject of the next season, let's try to tone down the scope of the threat a little bit. Last season, the whole of the universe was at stake in the finale. This season, the whole of time was decaying. What next? Is there any way to raise the stakes for the next season finale (which may well be the last stand of the Eleventh Doctor?) Well, yes, but it involves more of a threat to the Doctor and company rather than everything else there has ever been ever. The Caves of Androzani is consistently voted one of the best Doctor Who stories of all time, yet its scope is really rather small. Some soldiers, a corrupt politician, a disfigured madman in fetish wear and the Doctor and Peri (not forgetting the very unconvincing monster). No threat to the universe, just a little local trouble that could have lethal consequences for both of the then leads of the show. I'd like to see Moffat doing something like that. And I'd also like to see him doing something spooky again. Because while The Wedding of River Song was a breathless roller-coaster of an episode, it was only the awesome physical presence (as opposed to anything they said or did) of the Silence and the pit of flesh-eating skulls that could send a shiver up the spine. We hear a lot about the darkness of Moffat-era Who. Fine, it is darker than the RTD era, and most of those that preceded it. But let's make sure it is scary as well.

But overall, I feel immensely satisfied by the way this season ended. Not the best episode that the series has, or will, ever produce(d), to be sure. But a good finale that tied up enough of the loose ends to leave me, at the very least, feeling positive about the whole thing, but with enough up in the air to make me desperately excited to see what happens next.

And the question was, of course, "Doctor Who?" It has been the one asked for damn near half a century now, and again I'm excited to see where all this is going as we head towards that fiftieth anniversary and the Fall of the Eleventh...

Doctor Who: Closing Time

Well, I can confidently predict that some people really won't like this episode of Doctor Who. After the intensity and iconoclasm of the past few weeks, a sequel to The Lodger feels like a real change. And I'm all for it, quite frankly. Doctor Who has one of the most versatile story telling formats in the world. Why not have an episode about the trials of parenthood, working in a shop, the awkwardness of an alien in suburbia and the ways in which you can deal with a Cybermat with razor sharp, high-voltage teeth? Why not have the occasional episode that tries to be funny?

Especially since it succeeds in being funny. The baby called Stormageddon, the Doctor as toy shop owner, the confusion about his relationship with Craig, his ability to shush people - I could go on, but this was an episode based around banter and that banter worked. In the past, a lot of the comedy in Doctor Who has been based around, say, Tom Baker's inability to take the story seriously. The new series has instead employed genuinely funny writers - such as tonight's author, Gareth Roberts.

Yet it wasn't just about laughs. This was, in the few scenes they were in, quite an effective use of the Cybermen. Finally, perhaps for the first time since the series returned, someone clocked that the true horror of the Cybermen is in their conversion process. They will make you into monsters. Also, the damaged, worn out Cybermen somehow looked more effective than their perfect counterparts.

But for some, the relative lack of menace and the increased comedy quotient won't work. They'll complain and bellyache that it was all a bit silly, and that these episodes aren't a patch on The Doctor's Wife or Let's Kill Hitler. And in doing so they will miss the point that not every episode can be an iconoclastic classic, and sometimes you just have to let the good Doctor breathe, and have some fun in the process.

And if anything didn't work in this episode, it was the tacked on stuff about River Song. Yes, there was a need to remind people of the overall story arc, and there arguably was a need to create a cliffhanger for the no doubt epic season resolution next week. But do we really need a kid's nursery rhyme being sung in the background to point out what is, has, and will be going on? Why can't we just have the Doctor visiting his old mate and telling him that he is off to his death after this? Isn't that enough?

Still, this episode worked. I don't what every Doctor Who episode to be like this, but every now and again, it is a real delight to see my favourite show doing comedy so well.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: The Blood Line

Man alive, that final episode of what has been a tedious and largely pointless series was shit. A magical blood transfusion saved the day. Thank fuck that I’ve wasted circa ten hours of my life waiting for that utterly convincing and in no way bullshit resolution. Thanks, people, for putting on the small screen perhaps the perfect example of how not to close off ten weeks worth of TV. In years to come, those teaching script-writing at universities and colleges throughout the world should point to this episode as a perfect example of how not to do it. And by it, I mean pretty much everything this sorry farrago set out to achieve.

It seems almost pointless to sit here and pick through all the ways in which the final episode failed to work. Yes, it was shit, but that should be evident to all but the terminally stupid and RTD. Let’s instead try to take a helicopter view and figure out just why what at first appeared to be quite a promising series ended up being such a steaming turd pile of absolute bilge.

The first reason is that if you’re going to write a Torchwood story, you should probably place the Torchwood team at the very heart of it. Not on the outskirts of the story, and not so they end up appearing as a tacked on afterthought. For example, Captain Jack is meant to be the hero of the series – not some second rate action man who has to be removed from said action because he’s suddenly become all vulnerable. Likewise, Gwen started off as an interesting character trying to cope with the strange world in which she found herself. To turn her into a chippy Welsh bird who just wants to chin everything that moves is to remove any residual interest in her or her character.

The second reason is that if you’re going to have a high concept story arc, then work out all the logical ramifications of it and also think about how to dramatically present it. So, if you are going to have a story that is in part about politicians deciding to introduce death camps, then it is probably worth devoting some of your ample run time to depicting those politicians reaching such an egregious conclusion. Likewise, don’t reach episode six and then suddenly forget (to a massive extent) about said death camps. Your regular viewers – the poor sods who made this whole thing possible in the first fucking place – will notice.

And thirdly, think about the pacing of your piece. If your most nightmarish image is the cooking of the terminally ill, then don’t reveal all halfway through your series. Build up to it across all ten episodes – don’t spunk it away by episode five. Because once Vera was incinerated, the whole piece became a question of “ok, that’s where this is going – and can we get there already please?”

The fourth, and for this post final, reason is that if you are going to write damn near 10 hours of TV then you shouldn’t be fucking well making it up as you go along. Nothing wrong with plotting it all out and working out where you want to get to and how you are going to get there.

But the fact that this series of Torchwood turned out to be a ripe example of an arse biscuit shouldn’t really be a surprise given what has gone before. The excellent (but still far from flawless) Children of Earth now appears to be the exception rather than the rule. The simple truth is – if they haven’t already had the option taken from them by this sorry farrago of absolute shite – the producers shouldn’t make any more Torchwood. Their heart isn’t in it and/or they are not capable of it.

Doctor Who: The God Complex

Let's be very clear on this - in order to be good, Doctor Who does not have to be original. Much of the early output of the Tom Baker era clearly shows this - they merrily plundered the back catalogue of much of Hammer and Universal's horror films to great effect. Taking a familiar scenario and dragging it into the Doctor's world often works very well. And that's what The God Complex is - good without being original. Because anyone who has seen Kubrick's version of The Shining or, to a lesser extent, the film 1408 will feel that last night's episode is somewhat familiar. But by no means in a bad way. I've said it before about the adventures of the good Doctor and no doubt I'll get to say it again, but if you're going to plunder from the archives, plunder from the best. And given the fantastic success of Stephen King's books and (some of) the movies based on those works, Doctor Who would have been missing a trick if it never dipped into his canon of work.

The decor of the ersatz hotel, the different rooms containing different nightmares, the composition of the shots - this was clearly the Doctor staying in the Overlook. And, generally speaking, it worked. Partly because it was more than just rehashing The Shining. The story understood that nightmares take on different forms. Yes, clowns (the fear of one Sarah Jane Smith, oddly enough) and Weeping Angels were obvious choices. But the disappointed father and the mocking girls were very different, and summed up that it isn't just monsters that people fear. There was a certain poignancy as well in the idea that Amy's nightmare was having to be Amelia Pond again, and await the return of her Raggedy Doctor. Then the twist that it was about faith rather than nightmares helped to give what could have been a very simple story an extra layer of depth.

And there were some other good points as well. Rita worked well as a companion who never was - and the Eleventh Doctor's reaction to her death was far more effective than the likely response of his immediate predecessor (who probably would have stood around looking forlorn rather than raging). And Smith's Doctor continues to excel over all - witness his goading of Gibbis around the slyness of the coward (which was, of course, borne out by that character's actions).

That said, this was good rather than great. In part because it was so derivative. You want to be great? You need to be more original than this. Part of that originality is not stealing the resolution of another (genuinely great) Who story - in this case The Curse of Fenric (something possibly referenced in that fact that the Doctor forced Amy to lose faith in him in room 7). Likewise, I don't doubt that the Ponds will be back, despite their apparent departure at the end of this episode. There's no real problem with giving them a false leaving, but here it just felt anti-climactic - not least since Amy has been in near constant danger ever since she met the Doctor (as have all of his companions). Overall, perhaps the biggest problem is that this was essentially a mood piece, but it lacked the time to really build up that mood. One of the reasons why The Shining works is its run time. You can't create the same claustrophobic environment in just 45 minutes - especially when you've got to have a long departure scene at the end between two old friends.

But, before we go away to await the arrival of Closing Time, it is perhaps worth pausing for a moment to think about what the Doctor saw in his room - or, to be clearer, what the Elventh Doctor saw in Room 11. There was the sound of the Cloister Bell and the Doctor almost seemed to have anticipated what was in there. So what did he see? Himself? After all, he was pretty negative about himself in Amy's Choice. But the Cloister Bell signifies danger. Danger for what? Given the Doctor is rushing towards his death, it could well be a portent of that...

Torchwood - Miracle Day - End of the Road

So, two good things happened in this episode of Torchwood. Firstly, someone died, and thus the overall story was advanced. As such, this episode created for the first time in weeks the feeling that there actually is going to be some sort of resolution to this story, and that the whole thing won't just stop suddenly when the series runs out of episodes. Of course, prior to that death we had a long scene of poorly written, directed and performed exposition, and afterwards we had a lot of pure padding that reached its nadir when three of the lead characters had to touch the magic floor in order not to be heard by the nasty CIA agents. But whatever. I'll happily cling on to the minor move forward in the overall story arc as a positive sign that things might get better.

The second good thing that happened in this episode is the arrival of Allen Shapiro, a sweary, intolerant type who rightly had little patience of Gwen and therefore came across as the most effective character in this otherwise rather sorry farrago. No doubt he'll vanish from the face of Miracle Day moving forward because he is just too interesting.

Two good things. In an episode that lasted for about 50 minutes, but felt far longer. Two good things - and then that's it. For the rest of the episode we had to watch Rex do very little other than remain close-minded and generally quite ignorant, Gwen doing little else that raging like an irate teenager (and just as effectively) and Esther deciding that the best thing to do with a mortally wounded Captain Jack was to drive him round the arse end of nowhere while sobbing. These people are meant to be the people saving the world yet they act like inept children. Christ.

Okay, let me break cover and say what has been on my mind for weeks but has reached bursting point after the eighth episode of this tedious series - this isn't working. It isn't working at all. It is at best lacklustre, and at worst seriously shit. It has been a massive disappointment. It has become an effort to watch it each and every week, let alone review it. The only thing keeping me going is the fact that I've already invested so much time in it that I may as well watch the final couple of episodes to find out where it is all going (if anywhere). I still hope (against hope) to be proven wrong in my assumption that this is just going to all be a massive disappointment by the final two episodes. But with each episode that goes by with no signs of real improvement that hope dies a little bit more. Prove me wrong, RTD. Prove me wrong, Torchwood. Although I suspect that this is beyond all of your abilities now.

Doctor Who - Night Terrors

First up, let me say this - there is nothing wrong with Night Terrors. Had I seen this as a kid, I would have loved it. I'd have wanted to watch it over and over again because it does have some striking images and, crucially, it is also very creepy in places. But the adult in me - the jaded critic who has somehow wound up writing Doctor Who for free each week (if anyone wants to pay me to do this, please feel free) can't help but think that Night Terrors was an entertaining way to spend 45 minutes but nothing more.

Part of the problem was it is incredibly derivative. It combines elements of Ghostwatch with Sapphire and Steel. It also robs the rich heritage of Doctor Who a lot as well. The whole thing - especially the human/doll transformation and the parent needs to love child resolution - is pretty much The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances rewritten once again. The dolls house thing has been done before as part of the Hornet's Nest series, and the music was very reminiscent of the creepy girl theme from Remembrance of the Daleks. Yeah, it is becoming increasingly difficult to write original Who, and if you are going to rob, rob from the best. But if you want to create something genuinely iconic, you need to come up with something more than a greatest hits package.

Then there's Daniel Mays. I don't know why so many people rate him as an actor. To me, he's not very convincing. And here that is brought into sharp relief by the fact that he is acting opposite Matt Smith, who is in his element once again as the Time Lord. The problem is that Smith - playing a young/old wise yet silly alien - comes across as far more convincing than Mays - who is playing a human father. Plus Mays is surely the very a much more deserving recipient of Amy's frequent jibe to Rory - he really does have a stupid face.

Speaking of Amy and Rory, way to write them out of the episode. They spent pretty much the whole time exploring a house. In the dark. Yeah, it is all very atmospheric and threatening, but they did nothing to drive the story forward and nothing to resolve it. They were basically given busy work to do. Plus, as soon as Amy was converted into a doll, the threat of such a conversion was neutralised. We instantly knew that the conversion would be reversed.

Which leads me to another gripe - why is it becoming increasingly the norm to have Doctor Who stories where no-one dies? The reason why it was so effective at the end of The Doctor Dances is because it was the exception, not the rule. The problem with a lack of death, though, is that it makes everything less threatening. The doll conversion is a classic example - why not have the greasy, odious landlord permenantly converted into a little wooden doll? That is both a fitting fate and a memorable one. And please don't tell me that it is because this is a family show - just go watch Earthshock or Revelation of the Daleks and look at the body count there.

I know, I know, it sounds like I am just whining and sniping at something that, while not perfect, is still the best thing on TV. And I'd like to stress again that there is Night Terrors isn't a clunker, and is a perfectly acceptable outing for the nation's favourite Time Lord. But it could have been a story for any Doctor at any point in the show's history. It is Doctor Who by the numbers. And coming after the iconoclastic and utterly mad Let's Kill Hitler, it can't help but end up being a little bit nondescript. It's fine, but as a hyper-critical adult, it's nothing more than that.

Doctor Who: Let's Kill Hitler

So, the Good Man returns to our screens after a summer break. And he's back with a bang. And with a break-neck story that never really pauses for breath. But also a story that, when you look back on it, is a delightful piece of story telling; a deceptively simple plot that manages to advance the overall story arc at the same time as offering some genuine surprises that, on closer analysis, appear to be logical developments given what we have seen thus far and what we can guess is to come. And it is also a very funny script; one very clearly written by the author of Coupling. It is a great way for the show to return after its summer holidays. Let's take a look at why in a bit more detail.

Oh, and perhaps appropriately, there are spoilers ahead.

First up, it has a pre-title sequence that is clever and exciting. It has a novel way of contacting the Doctor and, just as you think you've figured it all out, it throws in a twist and an apparently throwaway character in Amy's best friend, Mels.

Ah, Mels. You have a gun, an attitude, and have been brought up (unintentionally) by Amelia Pond (and other, less friendly forces as it turns out) to have an obsession with the Doctor. But it all is for nothing, because Hitler shoots her in a blind panic. Amy's best friend is going to die. Except... except... Well, we never did stop to ask what 'Mels' is short for. Turns out it is Melody. Melody Pond. So one regeneration later, we have the Doctor dying and a couple of parents searching for their ever so wayward superhuman daughter while Hitler remains locked in a cupboard. And that's before we even come to the Terminator style robot spaceship with the minaturised people inside it.

In this episode, we get the Eleventh Doctor, Amy and Melody Pond all firing on all cylinders. But it is also worth pausing for a moment and remarking on how Rory has grown as a character. Here, he gets many of the best moments. Witness his treatment of Hitler and his lines after he and Amy have been miniaturised. Furthermore, Arthur Darvil's performance as he watches his future wife realise that he has loved her for years is sublime.

And those scenes with Amelia Pond, young Rory and young Mels - that at first appeared to be nothing more than a bit of padding - actually turn out to be crucial to the ongoing story. Here we see that Amy and Rory did raise their daughter, even though they were children too at the time. It is a neat way of getting around the narrative problem of how the Ponds as parents would get to see their daughter growing up.

Furthermore, the later appearance of Amelia Pond - this time as projection in the TARDIS - is wonderful. Not least because it is preceded by a lighthearted reveal of something really rather dark - that the Doctor doesn't like himself, and feels guilt (understandably) over the impact he had on the lives of Rose Tyler, Martha Jones and Donna Noble. This is basically an aside in a very busy story, but it hints at an emotional complexity that you might not expect from such a bold, brassy (half) season opener.

It is also worth commenting briefly on the direction here. There were so many nice little moments that indicated a talented director at work - such as the seamless merge between the model TARDIS and the real thing flying out of control through the sky. Combined with a great script and fine performances (especially from the regulars) this is bold, confident Doctor Who - the show at its best.

And it really does hint at what might be to come. We learn a little more about the Silence, as well as learning that silence will fall when a very old question is asked. What could that question be? Well, I have a proven track record of being really rather crap when it comes to Doctor Who related predictions, but I'll make a guess anyway - could that question possibly be one posed to the Doctor that simply says "who are you?"

Any problems? Well, the Hitler element to the story is a little bit of a red herring, but the full nightmare that was Hitler's life isn't the sort of thing that can be done in a family show broadcast at 7:10pm on a Saturday evening. And the incinerating things in the Teselcta ship looked a little... well... cheap, but to bemoan cheap special effects in Doctor Who is to open up a can of worms that would take months to fully discuss. But I can't help but feel that to criticise this episode too much is almost to be a bit too pedantic and churlish. This was fun, clever and vastly enjoyable.

And it is the sort of episode that shows why Doctor Who should be celebrated as a largely unique television experience. It is damn near half a century old, but still has the ability to be hugely exciting and surprising. And it still has the ability to leave you desperately wanting to know what will happen next week.

Welcome back, Doctor. You were only away for a few weeks, but even that was far too long.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: The Middle Men

Woo-hoo! Winston Zeddemore is in it! I don't quite know why that makes me so happy. I guess it is because it is a distraction from this slow-moving, lumbering beast of a story.

But let's look at the content of the episode rather than just the casting. Colin Maloney is a wonderfully ghastly creation - a unpleasant man in complete meltdown who has ceased to be fully in control of his own actions. There is the implication that, deep down, he knows that what he signed up to do is wrong, and when that combines with a sudden collapse in his life and things start to fall apart, he becomes terrifying and lethal. A maniac, out of control, in a vanity golf cart. The only downside to his character is that we never really saw it properly develop. We never saw him move from a minor public official into murderous, monstrous concentration camp director. Had he been introduced into the story earlier (and, as we know, those early episodes could have done with a lot more story and a lot less padding) we might have seen a compelling story arc and how humans can fall into evil. Instead, we end up simply with a rather transparent weak yet evil man. Which is good, but could have been so much better.

There is also the surprisingly intelligent conversation between Gwen and Dr Patel about moral choice in a concentration camp. It is even more striking given this has hardly been the most intellectually challenging of stories so far. It is a bit like coming across a discussion of the categorical imperative in a Colin Baker Doctor Who story. Of course, and rather sadly, it doesn't last for long, and with in minutes Jack is slapping the bum of a waiter. Back to business as usual, then.

The 45 club is another unsettling, but completely logical, extension of the Miracle. What a shame it wasn't introduced earlier, since the way it is treated here is just as a means to kill off a minor character in a world without suicide. Why can't we spend less time with the Torchwood team and more exploring this strange, new world? Are we going to hear about the 45 club again or have they just disappeared from the series, rather like the Soulless? There seems to be an assumption that we should find the antics of the Torchwood team so exciting that we only need brief hints of the world around that team. Unfortunately, the exact opposite is true.

And that's all I've got to say about this episode, really. Once again, I'm left with the frustration that this still isn't really going anywhere. This week, we learned that the camps are really bad. Which we also already knew. We learned that there is a conspiracy behind the Miracle and behind PhiCorp, which we also already knew. We didn't get to see Oswald Danes, or understand the implications of his speech. Oh, but we have found out that there is something called the blessing. But we know fuck all about it really. In short, we still know bugger all about what is going on here. Still. When you strip it down to basics, this episode was yet another exercise in padding.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: The Categories of Life

My last three reviews of Torchwood have been necessarily harsh, but harsh nonetheless. So let's redress the balance a bit. This episode was not bad; in fact, not bad at all. In fact, it was probably the best one since RTD kicked off the show five weeks ago. The main reason for this is that the Torchwood team now seem to be actively participating in their own adventure. Rather than just larking around on the sides of the Miracle, now they are fully exploring its implications. They are going into the camps and finding out what is going on - even if, in the case of Rex, it takes a demonstration for him to work out what the modules are for.

But it isn't just the active participation that works here. For the first time, we get a real sense of menace created through the fact that the Torchwood team are now genuinely in danger. Of course, it takes an extreme event - the gunning down and then incineration of Vera by a desperate man who has lost all control of himself - to really hammer this point home, but at long last we get a feeling (added to by the preview for next week's episode) that the team aren't playing around anymore - and nor are their enemies.

Elsewhere, the positively reptilian Oswald Danes (seriously, they should get Bill Pullman to play a Silurian in Doctor Who - he wouldn't need any make-up) appears to be hedging his bets; advocating PhiCorp in his speech, but also hinting (as Jack suggested) that they knew about the Miracle before it happened. And... that's about it, really, in terms of developing the overall story arc. Because while the Torchwood team have been finding out about stuff at San Pedro and Cowbridge, the rest of the story hasn't really gone anywhere. At the end of the last episode we knew there were camps and at the end of this episode we know there are camps where bad things are happening. It is hardly a dramatic leap forward in the underlying story, and other than the whispers about morphic fields we know next to nothing about the causes of the Miracle. Yeah, yeah there are still five episodes to go, I know. But it is telling that the pace of this story is so slow that the Torchwood team were able to have an evening to themselves and chow down on some Chinese takeaway at the beginning of the episode.

And while elements of the plotting of the episode - for example, that Danes was able to win over the crowd with his mix of contrition, flattery and hope - other elements of the story have me shaking my head in disbelief. If you're a government building large areas designed effectively to burn people alive, what is the one word you would want to avoid? "Camp". Brings up all sorts of association with, I don't know, mass slaughter. But what are the death centres referred to as here? "Overflow Camps". Fucking hell, you may as well call them "charnel houses" or "killing fields". And had they been named something else, then the Torchwood team would literally be none the wiser. They'd have continued larking around at the edges of the story. And frankly, it stretches a credibility that is already at breaking point to suppose that governments all over the world were able to build these camps without anyone anywhere ever saying "err, shouldn't we have a slightly less loaded word to describe them?"

But there are always going to be problems with a show as lazily scripted as Miracle Day. Let's leave that to one side, and instead keep our fingers crossed that the upturn in quality here is replicated and built upon in later instalments. The Categories of Life remains far from perfect, but does at least give me a certain level of hope that was sadly lacking after watching Escape to L.A.

Doctor Who: The TV Movie

I know it has its fans just as I know that Paul McGann has his fans. But to me, this movie is an utter failure. McGann is a failure as the Doctor. And this whole misfire nearly consigned the series to oblivion when it should have been a glorious rebirth of the series.

Yeah, yeah, I know that McGann has got far better as the Doctor in the Big Finish audio plays. And I know that it is slightly unfair to choose a clunker from the McGann era when there is only one TV story to choose from. But it still stands, and as far as I am concerned this movie was and is a massive disappointment.

To truly understand why I have so little time for McGann's one TV outing it is worth comparing this failed attempt to relaunch the show with a later - far more successful attempt; 2005's Rose. Because while Rose is far from perfect, it does help to highlight all that went wrong with this TV movie. Rose begins with, well, Rose as she goes about her daily business - getting up, going to work, flirting with her boyfriend, before finally going into the basement of the store where she works to find that the shop dummies have started to move. Then she meets the man who will change her life and he says just one word - "run". It is a brilliant opening, launching straight into an adventure without bringing the complex baggage of 26 years worth of Doctor Who. However, the TV Movie does precisely the opposite. In a pre-title sequence that consists of bad CGI and Dalek voices that sound like chipmunks playing as Daleks, the Doctor in a voice over says:

"It was on the planet Skaro that my old enemy, the Master, was finally put on trial. They say he listened calmly as his list of evil crimes was read and sentence passed. Then he made his last, and I thought somewhat curious, request. He demanded that I, the Doctor, a rival Time Lord, should take his remains back to our home planet - Gallifrey. It was a request they should never have granted."

So, this sequence assumes prior knowledge of (1) Skaro, the home planet of the Daleks (2) who the Master is and (3) people identify the Daleks from their voices - they will know what they sound like even though they don't sound like, well, the Daleks here. So it is an intro for geeks like me, really. Except that it is really unsatisfying even for geeks. It isn't just the Dalek voices, it is the complete lack of knowledge of the Daleks. Yeah, they might execute the Master - that's believable. But they don't do last requests. And they certainly don't invite their mortal enemy - the Oncoming Storm - to pick up the last remains of one of his other mortal enemies from their home world without exterminating him. And why the frig would the Doctor agree to this? To place himself in moral danger in order to get the final remains of his nemesis (particularly given the Master was actually using a stolen body)? Sorry, this beginning is bollocks, and it makes no-one happy; neither the casual viewer or the devoted fan.

Then we have the presentation of the Doctor. In Rose, he is instantly charismatic; a mix of a gurning joker and angry, bereaved loner. He is also alien through and through. The Eighth Doctor, however, comes across like a hyperactive child, rushing around, talking crap and acting like a slightly quirky action hero. As I say, McGann matures in the Big Finish audio plays, but here he is the least Doctorish Doctor there has ever been. And as for that horseshit about him being half-human... please. Why do we need this? What does it add to the story? And for such a continuity filled installment of the show, to piss on 26 years worth of mythology by making the Doctor half-human is both crass and pointless.

Of course, McGann isn't helped by the fact that, for a sizable minority of the story, he isn't the Doctor. Instead, we see the demise of the Seventh Doctor. Now, as noted last week, I'm a big fan of McCoy's incarnation, so it was nice to see him again in this. Nice, but not essential. Not least because the most Machiavellian of Doctors is not felled through his own machinations but rather through being caught in the crossfire in a gang war before finally being offed by his new companion operating on him. Besides, it is a dumb way to begin a new era of the show and to relaunch it to an international audience - McCoy was watched by between 3 and 5 million people in the UK, making him probably the least successful Doctor in terms of viewing figures ever. And it is difficult to imagine many people in America knowing much about the Seventh Doctor. So why open your brand new version of the show with a little known actor who is about to be replaced anyway? Why not just start the new version of Doctor Who with the new Doctor? Like, well, they did with Rose? I mean, just imagine how surreal would have been with Paul McGann in the role of the Doctor for the first ten minutes before he regenerated... into the new (and therefore real) star of the show.

Then we have the adversaries and the companion(s). The Master is the main enemy here and, by God, he's fucking mental in this one. And quite nasty as well. He doesn't mind snapping people's necks or destroying his own stolen body. I guess you could argue that he is pretty desperate here, but it doesn't stop him from camping it up. It isn't that the Master is bad here, more that he just isn't that memorable. In his first adventures, he was always backed up by some other monsters... like, Autons in his first story. And Autons are a simple idea, but very effective. Plastic mannequins that come to life. Much more memorable that a glorified body snatcher.

Of course, companions don't need to be visually iconic or that memorable on paper. The two companions in the TV movie - surgeon and gang member - are far more memorable on paper than Rose Tyler. Yet it is Rose Tyler, with her inquisitive nature and her ability to save the day, that makes her an iconic companion and those in TV Movie also-rans. Rose Tyler is extraordinary despite being ordinary; the two companions in the TV Movie are really very ordinary despite living extraordinary day to day lives. Neither shows any real curiousity about traveling in the TARDIS. Rose? She sprints into the TARDIS at the end of her first story. And quite right too. If the human we are witnessing the story through isn't at least a bit interested in life in the TARDIS, why should we be interested?

Which is why the ending to Rose - with its excitement and promise of future adventure - is actually inspiring, whereas the ending to the TV Movie - with its promise of repetition and its use of a comedy sound effect - just makes the viewer think that no-one is taking this story seriously.

Of course, bad luck could play a part here for McGann. In a sense, comparing his debut story to the relaunch of the show by a lifelong fan and talented writer in his own right taking a hell of a lot of creative control, is unfair. I mean, other Doctors - both of the Bakers and McCoy for example - had disappointing debut stories. The difference is, of course, that for the other three those stories were part of a (highly) popular, long-lasting TV series. In the case of the McGann story, this was meant to be the (re)launch of a very British brand internationally. Put simply, it couldn't afford to be anything other than fast-moving, light-weight yet compelling entertainment. It certainly shouldn't have been an often nonsensical piece that pleases neither the casual viewer or the fan. This TV movie was beaten by a season finale of Roseanne. And, as much as it pains me to say it, this TV movie deserved to be beaten by an episode in a series about a fat woman and her working class family. Indeed, given the success of Rose, it is interesting to conjecture what might had happened if the Eighth Doctor hadn't met Grace but instead a girl from a working class family with a mother like Roseanne...

Now, the reality is that, one day, Doctor Who will disappear from our screens again. But it is also true that, a few years after that disappearance, someone will decide that it is the right time to resurrect it. And let's just hope that they use, for all its flaws (like the bin that burps), they use Rose rather than going for this terribly disappointing and completely mishandled attempt to relaunch Doctor Who.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: Escape to L.A.

Another week, another episode of Torchwood. I could go through and do a "I liked this (Gwen and Jack pretending to be parents, for example, or the really rather horrific car crusher fate of the pseudo-Sarah Palin character) and I didn't like this (incidental music is still shite; Esther being surprised that Child Services took her sister's kids away and committed said mentalist sister - seriously, what the fuck did she thing was going to happen?)" sort of a review, but that's a bit boring and likely to get even more boring if repeated over the next six weeks. So instead, I want to look at the series overall, and try to figure out why it isn't working. And I think there are two fundamental reasons.

Firstly, there is no sense of reality here. Now, that might seem to be a curious claim given (a) it's a sci-fi show and (b) I'm a big fan of Doctor Who, which wrapped up the first half of its latest season with the floppy haired, badly dressed ancient-yet-young central character pulling together an army involving a lactating warrior troll and a lesbian lizard to fight another army which included headless monks. So let me explain exactly what I mean here. Of course, Torchwood is going to be unbelievable and unreal to a large extent. The last series involved multiple headed vomit monsters seeking children to get high off. Ken Loach it ain't ever gonna be. But Children of Earth worked better than Miracle Day is working because it tried to at least connect the over-arching narrative and the cartoonish Torchwood team with reality. They did this through having normal people involved in the narrative - such as Ianto's family and the tragic figure of Frobisher. There aren't any similar characters in Miracle Day. Look at the people who aren't part of the Torchwood team. They include a murderous paedophile and an amoral PR guru who is perfectly happy to suspend her revulsion over said paedophile in order to do her job, and indeed chuckles with glee when he does well. They are a world away from a working class family desperately trying to save their children and the children in the neighbourhood. Or the compromised civil servant forced to do the unspeakable and murder his whole family in order to save them from a worse fate he has worked to bring to other families across the country.

Furthermore, the desperate and pathetic political posturing of the odious Prime Minister Brian Green in Children of Earth added another sense of reality to the show, as we saw politicians desperately trying to seek solutions to unprecendented problems and having to make terrible choices in the process. Here, we get none of that. In fact, all we hear about politically is the silence from the White House. This is a shame - it would be great to understand what politicians are trying to do in the face of this new world. It would be great to see a President being forced to deal with the drug companies, with the Dead is Dead campaign, with the Soulless, and being forced to make terrible choices as diseases go on the rise. Maybe we will see this in future episodes, but I doubt that. And if we do, I will have to ask the question of why the hell that plot strand wasn't introduced earlier, because this series of Torchwood could really do with extra plot strands.

Because, and this is the second reason why it just isn't working, there is simply not enough plot for the four episodes we have seen so far. Meaning the whole thing comes across as very slow moving, plodding and padded out. I'm amazed we are only on episode four of this story; it feels like I have been watching this series for years now. And I really cannot believe that there is another six fucking episodes of this to go. Part of the issue is that we have learned so little about what is going on. We know that PhiCorp is involved in the miracle, and we know that some sort of force is controlling events and favours a circling triangle to remain cryptic. That's it. Across four episodes of TV. That's it. And frankly, it isn't enough. And the characters in the show even seem to be acknowledging this. Gwen's frustration when Rex shoots the hitman who was about to cut her throat just as he is about to reveal the names of whoever is controlling this whole conspiracy mirrored my own frustration. Can't we please just have a tiny bit of information about what the fuck is going on here as we slowly grind towards the middle of the series?

Let's compare where we are in this series of Torchwood to where we had got to at this point in the last series. By the end of the fourth part of Children of Earth we'd seen the aliens, understood what they wanted and how terrible it was, and the team had just lost another key, and much liked, member. By the end of this fourth episode we basically know bugger all. Yeah, I understand that Miracle Day is twice as long as the immediately preceding series, but that is the point and the second big flaw with the series - it doesn't need to be twice as long. In fact, the amount of plot we've seen so far could have been condensed into one episode without too much trouble.

The end result is that this round of Torchwood has become immensely frustrating. There are clearly good ideas going on, but they are dripping out at such a slow rate as to make the whole thing barely worth bothering with. I'd almost rather see Miracle Day: The Edited Highlights than sit through another six plodding episodes that consist of little more than padding and a refusal to let the audience in on what is actually going on here.

Of course, it may pick up; after all, we aren't even halfway yet. The next six episodes may prove to be outstanding TV. And I really hope that they are. Because I don't want to have to write another six reviews that all basically all say "seriously, is this actually going anywhere?"

Doctor Who: Time and the Rani

Now, it may seem strange to say this - especially as I have classed this story as one of the Clunkers - but I actually really like Time and the Rani. Part of this is pure nostalgia, since I was eight when I first watched this story - surely the perfect age to be caught up in the story and not see its numerous shortcomings. And now, as I watch it again, it brings a smile to my fact to think of when this story represented four weeks worth of excitement when it was first broadcast. Of course, I can also see what it is - a big fat misfire; a childish story that represents another failed attempt to relaunch the show after the troubles it experienced in the mid-1980s. The Rani states "this is idiotic" after an unconvincing pratfall from the Doctor; unfortunately, she could be referring to the whole story.

One of the things that the clunkers so far have shown is that even the worst of Doctor Who can have a great performance from the man playing the central character. Unfortunately, this outing is not an example of this phenomena. McCoy here plays the clown and... nothing else. He falls around, he looks confused, he dresses like an arse (seriously, who tucks their question mark tank top into their trousers for God's sake?) and he appears to be very, very stupid on occasion. We shouldn't agree when the Rani refers to the Doctor as a cretin. Of course, McCoy got much better in the role and became, in my eyes, of the greatest Doctors of all time. The frustrating thing is that it isn't seen here - despite the fact that, if you watch his audition on the DVD, he had already had the potential to be a great Doctor.

But even here McCoy is streets ahead of Bonnie Langford as Mel. There have been some terrible performances from companions over the years, but Langford's Melanie Bush is the worst of the lot. She screams, she nags, and the flounces around pontificating in a breathless voice. She also dresses like, well, a massive twat. She looks like a shop assistant in a seaside candy floss booth. The moment she joined the TARDIS crew was a nadir for the show; the moment she left and was replaced by Ace was a real step forward for the programme. "Don't hold that against me" says the Doctor when someone mentions that they have met Mel. I don't hold it against you, Doctor. I hold it against the cretins who ever thought that she deserved a place in the TARDIS.

But it isn't just the Doctor and his companion that are the problem here. The enemies leave a lot to be desired. I always wonder why people expect the Rani to be returning in the new series - that River Song might have turned out to be the Rani, for example. Why? The Rani was in two (well, three if you want to be pedantic) stories - each one worst than the last. She is often made out to be the equivalent of the Master but she really isn't. The Master is genuine Who icon, having caused the death of the Doctor twice. The Rani has managed once (possibly), and is also played with one dimensional zeal by Kate O'Mara. There is nothing to the Rani other than shouting orders and looking dismissive. Why bring back the Rani? You may as well bring back Glitz. Then we have the Tetraps. Well, they scared my brother, but he was six when we first watched this. Physically, they look like ALF after a bad car accident. They sound like a sex pesty phone call, especially when fawning to the Rani. They are slow moving and apparently very stupid. And they seem to shoot some sort of glittery ejaculate from their guns that can knock people out and render them inanimate. The Doctor has faced many rubbish adversaries in his time, but only a post-regenerative Doctor could struggle as much as the Seventh Doctor to foil the schemes of the Rani and the Tetraps.

And the Lakertyans? Either boring, preachy or boring and preachy. They add nothing to the story - literally, nothing. Pull the Lakertyans from the story, and you lose nothing but padding.

The production values also leave something to be desired. The sets are, at least, occasionally well lit, but the whole thing looks like the production team wanted to get as many sci-fi cliches into their set designs as possible. Furthermore, there are embarrassing moments, such as when the Rani is bashing on the cabinet's glass in the fourth episode, that show just how constrained the budget was. Then there's the incidental music. Those who criticise the music of much of Murray Gold should be made to sit through this soundtrack on a loop for a day. It is truly atrocious - it sounds like someone who has bought their first synthesiser and (a) believes that it is the best thing in the world and (b) has found out that it can also make "crazy noises" (the breaking glass when the Doctor puts on the Fifth Doctor's costume, for example). At its best, the score for this show is unobtrusive. At its manic worst, it sets your teeth on edge and is possibly the most terrifying thing on offer here.

Anything good? Well, there is some great FX work - particularly when the rocket takes off in the final episode and whenever the bubble traps are launched. The cliffhangers are also all good - especially the first one, where the post-regenerative Doctor watches his companion apparently spiralling to her death without realising who she is. There is also something curiously satisfying in seeing McCoy wearing his predecessor's costume, although I can't quite put my finger on why. And for a kid the whole thing is tremendously exciting - and if you've never had the chance to watch this one as a child, then you'll just have to take my word for it.

But this is the clunker of the McCoy era for me quite simply because it is the worst of the McCoy stories. Even a story like Delta and the Bannermen has more going for it, despite its numerous flaws. And one of the great tragedies is that this was the first of the McCoy stories. What should have been a big relaunch of the show with a new actor in the lead role was actually a long, boring exercise in playing it safe. There were some great McCoy stories to come - some of which did very original things with the series. But his first outing was an exercise in treading water; a dull cast-off of a story clearly designed for his predecessor rather than for McCoy. The poor opinion many have of McCoy may have been down to this story; had his era started with a story like Remembrance of the Daleks, Ghost Light or even Paradise Towers people might have a better opinion of the criminally underrated McCoy.

The eight year old in me loves Time and the Rani. The thirtysomething in me laments a massive missed opportunity to relaunch the show. A theme which we will be returning to next week...

A Clip From Doctor Who: The God Complex

Of course, for a geek like me, this is one of the most exciting things to happen in weeks. Seriously. Doctor Who meets The Shining with a feral beast stalking the corridors. Can't come quickly enough as far as I am concerned...

Torchwood: Miracle Day: Dead of Night

Another week, another episode of Torchwood: Miracle Day. And while Dead of Night is better than last week's effort, it is still far from superb. In fact, the episode struggles even to be good.

Part of the problem is that there is no real sense of menace in this show. Even when Gwen has to hide from Jilly Kitzinger there is no tension - in part because Killy is simply no threat to Gwen. By this stage in Children of Earth we had the 456 - barely seen triple-headed beasts with menacing voices and a penchant for projectile vomiting. In this story, all we have is a bunch of humans behaving in a slightly suspicious way. This isn't an episode of The Bill - it needs a little bit more dramatic.

And what has happened to Gwen? She seems to have evolved into a curious cross between Amy Pond, Sarah Jane Smith and James Bond. There is precious little left of the police constable who stumbled across Torchwood a few years back. Yeah, you could argue that this is part of her overall story arc, but there is precious little reference to that arc. Instead, it seems it is enough to have her occasionally mentioning her kid to reference her back story - and she has become little more than a bland cipher, a way of progressing the plot.

Not that the plot particularly progresses. We have now seen that there is a bad corporation, that there are drugs, and that Oswald Danes is falling in with what are heavily implied to be the bad guys (not that a murdering paedophile was ever really going to be a good guy, of course). And that's pretty much it. Basically, we've had 150 minutes of TV to get... well... not very far at all. Sometimes less is more and if you don't have the plot for 10 episodes, then don't try to tell your story across 10 episodes.

And there's still a lot of padding. Having the two male protagonists getting laid is a good example of this; it adds little to the plot, just titillation on the sidelines of the story. And we seem to be seeing a recurrence of what I'm going to call the Old Law of Torchwood - if the story is flagging, throw in a bit of shagging. As well as killing time, it also allows you to make your programme look adult. Not in the sense that it is challenging drama for adults, but instead because it has to be broadcast later in the day as the sex is not appropriate for the kids.

That's the Old Law of Torchwood; unfortunately, there seems to be a New Law of Torchwood. And it runs like this - the closer characters get to the Torchwood team, the less interesting they become. Rex was a great character in the first episode; now he is a second-rate Captain Jack - doing what Jack does with more petulance and with less of an ability to deliver a quip. Likewise, the odious Oswald Danes somehow loses some of his menace - despite describing the murder of a young girl - when describing it to a frantically emoting, gun-wielding Captain Jack. Once again, I'm left with the feeling that this show would be better without the Torchwood team in it. Hopefully that will change... hopefully.

And a word about the incidental music. Who in the name of Christ decided that the often hideously out of place music would be appropriate for what is supposed to be an edgy sci-fi thriller? A teenage boy who likes to ROCK? It sounds amateurish, like someone who has actually seen the show trying to create a score from it using the solely the tag lines for each episode.

Not everything is bad, of course. The soulless strike me as a great - and really rather spooky - idea. So can we see more of them? Can we get a feel from where we have come from? Would it be possible to see how, y'know, ordinary people are responding to the miracle rather than the increasingly cartoonish regulars? Wouldn't it be a good idea to see a normal person becoming one of the soulless? I mean, the whole thing feel very padded out, so perhaps a further storyline that normal people could relate to might have been a nice addition. But, no doubt, the soulless themselves will fall foul of the New Law of Torchwood. As soon as they get sustained contact with Torchwood, they will become much less interesting.

I think the most frustrating thing about the evolving Miracle Day series is its very mediocrity. It isn't good enough to look forward to each week, and it isn't bad enough not to watch. And, while I never really thought I would write this, what this needs is more RTD. He wrote the first episode which is, by a country mile, the best of the three we have seen so far. Torchwood is his baby, and frankly the baby needs its father because at the moment, it is floundering. It should be essential viewing; instead, it is watchable at best.

Doctor Who: Timelash

Poor Colin Baker. Poor, poor Colin Baker. When he first took on the role, he said that he wanted to be the Doctor for years. In the end, he got three years - and the show was only on the screen for two of those. And the odds were stacked against him in a massive way. It isn't just the costume - although having your lead actor dressed in a costume apparently designed by a colour-blind mentalist is always going to give him a tough job. And it isn't the fact that his Doctor was initially made to be arrogant and unlikable. In fact, the Eleventh Doctor is arguably both someone who dresses badly (although his lack of fashion is nothing compared to the visual abomination that is the Sixth Doctor's costume) and is often arrogant. So why is the current Doctor so much more successful than the Sixth incarnation?

It isn't just that Smith is more of a leading man than Baker the Second. It is, to a large extent, down to the stories the latter got. Smith has had some of the best Doctor Who stories of all time; Baker the Second got none of them. Even the very best of the Sixth Doctor does not stand with the all time greats of the show. But, by God, the story we are talking about today is not one of the best of the era of Baker the Second. It can actually make a strong claim to being the worst of the ones during his time in the world.

For a start, this story shows the Sixth Doctor at his worst. He is boorish, patronising, and dismissive of just about everyone. The contempt he shows for Peri is particularly jarring. Banter between the Doctor and his companion is often a staple of the show; here, there seems to be real dislike. And watching two people snipe at each other is not great entertainment - a particular problem given the Doctor and Peri don't enter the real story for the first 20 minutes. Even worse, the TARDIS safety belts and the moment(s) when the Doctor gets a chipmunk style voice come across as absolutely excruciating. And the bit where a character observes that "the force is too great" after the Doctor has abseiled into the Timelash - yeah, I know that part of that force pulling on that rope is the Timelash, but a viewer might only see that the rather portly Colin Baker needs numerous people to hold onto the other end of a rope that he is swinging from. There's precious little dignity for the Doctor here, and Baker the Second - who is a better actor than he is often given credit for - does his best with a script designed to make him look pompous but, unfortunately and understandably, never manages to look anything other than pompous.

Still, Baker the Second turns in the best performance here. The competition isn't fierce. Nicola Bryant is given nothing more to do than whine and scream; she does so with aplomb, but it is difficult to call a performance based on such requirements as in any way interesting or likable. But she still shines next to the bland inhabitants of planet Whatever and the Adric-like performance of Herbert. Only Paul Darrow puts effort into his performance - sadly, he thinks he is playing a pantomime villain. Quite how the other cast members didn't spend their time hissing at him is utterly beyond me.

And as for Herbert; the twist that he is H.G. Wells is not without some merit - particularly since his time with the Time Lord apparently inspired him so. Indeed, that is a trick that the new series has pulled off with other creatives, such as Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Agatha Christie and Vicent Van Gogh. But with each of those people, the new series has explored perhaps lesser known elements to their lives. And H. G. Wells led a fascinating life. He was more than just a science fiction writer; he was engaged actively in the politics of his era, and this could have made the story more eye-opening and interesting. Imagine the Doctor meeting H. G. Wells and in doing so V. I. Lenin. Of course, to pull that off would require jettisoning the vast majority of this script and replacing it with something good else. But that really shouldn't be a problem.

What about the script, I hear you ask? It is terrible - apparently scribbled on the back of a beer mat after a hefty session on the gin. Why? I'll explain one day.

The production values make this look more like a fan made story rather a BBC production. The whole thing looks cheap; and not just cheap, but cheap and nasty. And the Third Doctor's portrait; the Doctor observes that he has forgotten what he used to look like. Actually, he may not have done because the portrait looks nothing like the Third Doctor. And then we have the monsters - the Borad works, and is perhaps the only real success of this story. The rest of the monsters are just plain crap. The Bandrils are sock puppets that should never have been allowed on screen. The Morlox are not much better, looking more like a prototype rather than the finished article. Then we have the android (an android that appears to smirk at one point) - all blond hair, blue face and stupid voice. The sets are largely bland and only really memorable because they look like, well, cheap TV sets, while the Timelash itself looks like a Blue Peter Christmas set built by idiot children. Honestly, if there's no money left for a story, then stop trying to spend money. Have one monster that works, and then fill the rest of the space where you want other monsters to reside with unseen menace and darkly-lit sets. Don't make it look like a shit episode of Star Trek: The Original Series that has no money.

The whole thing also sounds atrocious. The special FX sounds are all crass, while the music is dreadful: particularly at the start of the second episode as the Doctor fights the android with a mirror, which is amongst the worst incidental music the show has ever produced.

It is the worst of a really rather lacklustre bunch. So poor Colin Baker, he never really had a chance. And if you ever want to see precisely why, watch Timelash.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: Rendition

What a difference a week makes.

Last week's edition of Torchwood was good. It boded well for the following nine episodes. Sadly, that quality has not been maintained into the second week.

Don't get me wrong, this episode was not a disaster. A few of the plot strands were geuninely interesting. The Danes strand is getting more and more interesting. The idea that he could gain redemption through blubbing on TV is interesting although not 100% convincing, especially given he is a murdering paedophile who said that his victim did not run fast enough. I appreciate that the world has changed with the suspension of death, but I'm not quite convinced that the public would be willing to forgive such a character so quickly. What is interesting, though, is what Danes's agenda is and precisely where this strand is going. What is behind his repetance? What are the implications of this sudden popularity? Furthermore, while the idea of the CIA turning on its own is hardly original, it was done with an element of panache particularly as Esther Drummond realised that her own organisation was setting her up. Her escape from her employers was well done - I mean, it was clear that she was always going to escape, but her initiative was good to see. It showed a quiet resourcefulness that the show as a whole could do with more of. And the full implications of the "miracle" are being admirably expanded upon - the rise of drug resistant disease and the need to change the way medicine operates being two good examples. In fact, what was happening in the US was far more interesting that what was happening to Torchwood.

Indeed, whoever said it was far more interesting to travel than to arrive clearly never saw this episode of Torchwood. The flight was about six hours long and despite the episode being circa 50 minutes long, I could swear to God that I was there for every minute of that flight. The plane sequences were boring and nothing more than padding. The whole Jack-being-poisoned-thing added nothing to the story - we already knew that he is mortal and therefore vulnerable at the same time as knowing that the CIA is against him and Torchwood - and ended up with a craptacular sequence when Gwen and Rex did an A-Team style thing to combat the Arsenic poisoning. Furthermore, the cheap shots about the male flight attendant were not funny and drifted towards casual homophobia. And what happened when they got to the USA? They immediately escaped. All the flight stuff seemed to be about was making their journey to North America more interesting. And in that, it failed.

I hope that the series picks up - and a big way in which it could do that is to get the Torchwood team to engage with the ongoing action. Because as things stand Torchwood are the weakest link, and if things continue as they are, then the sad reality is that Miracle Day will end up being a better series if it didn't have Jack and his posse in it.

Torchwood: Miracle Day: The New World

Looking forward to an episode of Torchwood is to take something of a gamble. It can either be very good - awesome, gripping fantasy entertainment - or half-baked sci-fi that mistakes humping for making a show truly adult. So the start of Miracle Day provoked some rather ambivalent feelings in me - especially since it is a co-production with a US company. After all, the last time a Doctor Who (and Torchwood remains part of that world) was produced in part by a company from the US it didn't go tremendously well.

So what to make of The New World? Well, it works. It is much more in the vein of the great Children of Earth than the reprehensibly poor Meat. Part of this is the pace - because we have a story spread over numerous episodes rather than just 45 minutes installments, the characters and the plot lines have time to breathe and it doesn't all feel desperately rushed. It also allows a sense of anticipation to build up as you start to wonder where different plot strands are going. In particular, the Oswald Danes (a strikingly repellent character if ever there was one) storyline seems intriguing, and I wonder where that plot strand will go and how far they will be willing to push the envelope with it. Of course, the slower pace means Gwen gets nothing to really do for the first half hour, but that's not a major problem - the American characters have the potential to be far more interesting than the UK ones.

Furthermore, the central conceit of the show - that everyone has stopped dying - initially appears to be less threatening than the coming of the 456. But the episode works hard to show why it is not as positive as it might first appear, and why the absence of death will actually create a dystopia rather than an utopia. The episode subtly suggests that things are radically changing - possibly forever. Whatever problems there may be in RTD's writing, you have to hand it to him - he certainly thinks on a grand scale.

And then we have Captain Jack. Ah, the Captain - a mixed blessing it ever there was one. He has the potential to be a great character, but prior to this episode he has always been something of a superman, and just as bland. Here, as a man who shouldn't exist anymore, he is forced to rely on his wits and cunning, rather than his reputation and that of Torchwood. I particularly like Jack pretending to be a FBI agent to investigate - not least because he uses a pseudonym that is a subtle, yet great, nod to the fans. And I can't help but love the moment when Jack turns up in Wales to rescue Gwen et al. It's more than a bit cheesy but fuck it. It's cheese that works.

But this is more than just Jack's show - the character of Rex, for example, is a great addition to the Torchwood universe. He's determined, ruthless, intelligent and questioning - at the same time as being obsessive to the point of being very funny. His departure from hospital, and his complete ignorance of the UK, is nicely handled in a way that is humourous but not too obtrusive ("you mean I've got to pay for this bridge? Goddamned Wales"/"Wales is insane!"). If this is Jack's last stand, then Rex deserves to become the new star of the show.

And the episode also has some striking images - the nightmare that is the man who was blown to a pulp but still lives (and then was decapitated at Captain Jack's request) is a great example of this. Not all of it works of course - the missile sequences are just poor CGI. But the whole thing has the feel of quite a big budget production, and Torchwood deserves a big budget.

Is it truly great? Well no - not yet. But it feels like it has thought out, properly plotted and is genuinely intriguing. I want to know why Jack is vulnerable again, why Torchwood as a concept was sent to the CIA at the same time that death stopped, and just what has caused the immortality gripping, and threatening to destroy the world. So congratulations to RTD and the Torchwood crew - you've avoided the potential curse of Torchwood, and it looks like you've got a hit on your hands.

Luther

So, having heard a lot of hype and praise about the TV series Luther, I thought I would give it a go. And, by God, watching that first episode of the second series was an utter waste of my ever-diminishing life.

Shot like a Hollywood movie, the director seemed to think that Luther is an epic piece of drama. It isn't, of course. It's a BBC One detective series almost determined to be gritty but without a gritty plot to back it up. In fact, the plot (in as much as I could follow it having not seen the first series) is pretty hysterical and ludricrous. For example, it isn't enough just to have a drug-addicted teenager forced into pornography. No, it has to be some sort of rapey necro-porn - because the alternative just isn't bad enough for this series.

But that's the sub-plot. The main plot seems to be about a serial killer modelling himself as Springheeled Jack. He attacks people and kills them for attention. While wearing a mask. It is all pretty pathetic - an attempt to make a serial killer even more scary through giving him a gimmick. Because, y'know, serial killers aren't scary enough in their own right now, are they? However this serial killer is a sort of hamfisted attempt to cross the ludricrous killer in the Saw movies with the Joker. The former works because he is so over-the-top in his crimes that it just about works (for the first grim entry in that ever more crappy film franchise) and the latter because he is just so arbitrary. The killer in this episode of Luther is just an attention-seeking slasher with a crap mask and a crap back story. No doubt this killer will build up to some sort of climactic orgy of violence. Whatever. Based on this episode, he doesn't work as a character so much as a motive force for the plot.

Furthermore, the pacing of the plot is all over the place. About half way through the first episode, there is a pointless chase and then confrontation between the detective and the killer. What does this add to the story? Nothing. Pure padding. What could be the alternative? Well, possibly them doing real police work, although that might be considered by the makers too boring for this sort of show. And then the climax/cliffhanger is misdirected in the extreme - even if you haven't come across this sort of "twist" before, the direction is so lumpen that any excitement is drained away from that twist.

Then we have the most extraordinarily misjudged performances in this piece. All the women seem to have been told to act in the most mannered way possible, like they have just discovered the English language and are trying out new accents and verbal mannerisms. The men, however, just seemed bored by what is going on. Idris Elba, playing the title character, is laconic to the point of comatose. Unlike in The Wire, where he managed to turn in an utterly convincing as Stringer Bell, here he is the very definition of an actor going through the motions. But that is nothing compared to the extraordinary performance from theworstdoctorwhointheworldever Paul McGann - where the actor actually seems to want to fall asleep onset because he just does not care about the drama he is appearing in. Again, if this is supposed to be gritty, then it needs gritty - not bad and bored - performances.

And Luther himself seems to be a detective with remarkably little common sense and poor observational skills. His decision, for example, after he has witnessed the murder of an innocent person on a fucking webcam is to send two crucial members of his team to take a witness back to her home. Frankly, with prioritisation skills like that, he deserves to fail. And there is the wonderful moment when he wanders around the largely empty flat of the serial killer wondering why the flat has been left empty despite that there is a fucking phone in front of him. Again, detectives like this deserve to fail.

But the worst thing is that somewhere in the farrago of bollocks and utter nonsense there's a good story struggling to get out. However, that story needs a lot more work than this production team seemed willing to give it. Above all, someone needed to give more thought to the tone of the whole thing. There is a place for police procedurals, and for serial killer stories, and for hysterical, over-the-top stories about the boogeyman made real. However, to combine those three different types of story together, you need to put a lot of thought into it. Sadly, the makes of this programme seem unwilling to do that, and hope that crudely grafting a number of different genres together is enough to get the result you want. This episode proves that it really, really isn't.

Doctor Who: A Good Man Goes To War

Q: When is an ending also a beginning?

A: When a good man goes to war.

Ok, it isn't as catchy as some of the poetry in the programme, but it alludes to a crucial point that we should probably deal with straight away. Yeah, this is not a stand-alone episode and yeah, you're doing to have to wait a while to see how this concludes. But I've only got this to say to the whiners out there who will be lambasting the complexity of the overall story arc and the long wait until September: deal with it.

And before we go any further, let me warn you, in the manner of one Doctor Song, that there are spoilers ahead. Seriously, heed that warning. If you haven't watched the episode, then go do so and then read on. I'm not going to be held responsible for ruining any of this for anyone.

This was a mighty fine piece of Doctor Who. Sure, it was showy and very ostentatious - it had the celebratory feel of "let's try to get as many different monsters into this as we can". But that's fine - why not, if it's going to be done so well? And I like the fact that the Doctor has an army he can call on if need be, and it makes sense that someone as startling as him would have others in his debt. And, of course, it is good that the Doctor is shown to be the man who can stop an army without shedding blood. Just as it should be.

But what was even better was the fact that the Doctor was tricked by enemies who know him all too well. It wasn't just that the army left to allow for a trap to be set, then sprung. It wasn't the further fact that his enemies managed to pull the substitution with the Flesh trick for the second time on him. It was the fact that Moffat let the audience in on this trick; for very early on, we understood that this was all a trap, and so we were allowed to see the arrogance of a Time Lord lead him right into a trap when really he should have known much better.

And the episode also managed to pull off some other surprising tricks as it went along. I mean, it managed to have a poignant moment with a 12 year old Sontaran, for heaven's sake. And I really like the idea of a Silurian adventuress living in Victorian England solving crimes. There's a spin-off show, right there.

Anything that didn't work? The Headless Monks seemed like a vaguely good idea that was not at all fleshed out. As it stands, they were a bit of a nothing - and I don't know why we couldn't have had the Silence back as the main adversaries. And overall I felt that the whole thing could have done with a little bit more time to, well, breathe a bit. I'm all for fast-moving Doctor Who, but this felt like a six episode story crammed into about forty-five minutes.

Of course, this is all window dressing around the main revelation of the story; the Ponds' baby and the identity of River Song. From the moment I heard the name "Melody Pond" I knew that those who have been speculating that River was Amy's daughter were right. But that didn't stop the slow reveal of River's identity being a joy to watch - especially since it was the information that reinvigorated the Doctor and galvanised him into action. There is also an added poignancy when you consider that the Doctor already knows how Melody/River will die - and that he has already made a sort of afterlife for her. And it does raise a number of questions - is River a Time Lady? It was strongly implied that she is and, following on from this, that she was the regenerating girl from the end of Day of the Moon. Which would also make her the girl that Amy shot... and it is increasingly looking like the person in the astronaut suit who gunned down the Doctor was River, and that is the crime that she is serving time for in the Stormcage. But if so, why? And how will the Doctor be saved from that brutal murder on the beach? I mean, surely he will be saved, right? But then there was that snapshot of a skeleton holding the sonic after the end credits had rolled...

The overall story is starting to fit together, but there are enough balls still in the air to make me desperate to know what happens next. But that's Ok, because Doctor Who will return in Let's Kill Hitler. And why not?