Reaction: FLESH AND STONE

Written by Steven Moffat, directed by Adam Smith, 2010

As Steven Moffat has made the analogy of this story being the Aliens to Blink’s Alien (the overrated and dumbed-down action version, then?), presumably Weeping Angel³ (underrated, but beautiful and uncompromising) and Weeping Angel: Resurrection (of which, frankly, the less said about the better*) will soon be on their way… Not to mention the superb and not superfluous at all Weeping Angel vs Smiler spin-off.

Enough facetiousness (…maybe). Much as I am loving almost everything about this series – Matt, Karen, the fairytale sensibility, and the feel of a synthesis of the old and new series – on balance, this wasn’t one of Steven Moffat's strongest stories. At least not compared to his pre-showrunner numbers. It fitted together, but, though I appreciated its relatively small focus, as a four- and, after Octavian's death, three-hander, there didn’t seem to be a massive amount of substance to this episode. Similarly, nothing particularly unexpected happened, and in fact, on a second viewing which usually consolidates my impressions, I found Flesh and Stone strangely unengaging. Nevertheless, depending on how much this series adheres to the template of the past few seasons, it's still relatively early days and there's presumably space for deeper, richer stories in its second half.

The most notable element of the episode was having the arc-seeding crack play a substantial role in the series well before the finale; I was worried it would simply end up glimpsed in every episode… However, that would have been below Moffat, and I’m glad to see he’s shaken the Bad Wolf/Saxon precedent. Both as an arc and in terms of its potential repercussions on the continuity of the last few years, it is becoming very intriguing. Also, it's quite fantastic to see the sort of questions asked by fans actually addressed by the Doctor within the show, for example, regarding the CyberKing. The willingness of the program to not only address but make something out of continuity gripes like this – and with such a fast turnaround - is part of the joy of modern Doctor Who.

River, of course, is also a continuity issue in progress. If River perhaps eventually kills the Doctor, it’s a rare author who deals which such monumental elements of the Doctor’s life (however obliquely – so far), much like the skirting around his name in The Girl in the Fireplace and Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead. (This suggestion also calls to mind what Lawrence Miles did with the Doctor’s corpse in (the brilliant) Alien Bodies.)

I am a little dubious about a character who’s predicated around ‘being mysterious' - hopefully just not indefinitely. Like the revelation of the Star Whale not quite matching up to the apparent magnitude of Starship UK’s secret, there’s always a worry that the truth about River will be underwhelming if it’s dragged out too long. (Having said that, that’s a measure of how fast things move in The Broadband-Speed Age, seeing as this is only her second appearance.)

Given everything River apparently knows (the Doctor’s name, again, and how to fly the TARDIS or write in Old High Gallifreyan), I just hope the series can muster the scale to realistically portray their relationship – whatever that relationship turns out to be. This was my worry with Silence in the Library; that future stories wouldn’t do justice to how expansive their relationship seems when told as backstory. The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone has certainly raised more unexpected questions, so I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.

Also in terms of unanswered questions, presumably the people who also mentioned this are simply reading too much into a continuity error (of the production variety), but when the Doctor returns to Amy to tell her, “Remember what I told you when you were seven,” he appears to have both rolled up his sleeves in one shot, and regained his jacket in another. I doubt this is deliberate, as there just isn’t enough emphasis, but… will he return to this scene in a later story? Hmm.

As for Amy, I was starting to find it hard not to see her as a return to the old days, in that she hadn’t really contextualised her adventures in relation to her real life... I’m not convinced whether this is good enough any more, so I’m glad she expressed a desire to go home, even if only briefly; it’s good to see her acknowledge the life she’s been prevaricating about.

While we’re on the subject of the return to chez Pond… I’m sure loads of people (Daily Mail readers?) will loathe Amy’s play for the Doctor, but I loved it; once again, the Moffat administration undercuts the Davies approach. Where Rose was in love with the Doctor, the earnest emo yearning is here replaced by Amy simply wanting to jump his bones.

Though her having a wide-on for the Doctor is very funny, it does seem to come out of nowhere. I like that she’s a bit wanton though (on the night before her wedding, no less!); it makes her more human than Rose or Martha’s mooning around. Also, if Amy is perhaps a return to a pre-2005 companion template, the Eleventh Doctor’s reaction to her advances feels like a return to the Doctor of old who was completely befuddled by sex (a far cry from the Tenth's glee in having apparently devirginised Elizabeth I...). Although, let’s face it, One to Seven never even made it to first base, unless Polly got the horn in a lost episode or something. (Look, if previously unheard-of test footage of the first regeneration has just been found, anything’s possible.)

When not fighting off sexually rapacious companions, I’m slightly surprised the Doctor didn’t encounter the Angels face to face more, given that this is the first time we've really seen them together. Although, I guess there's only so much interaction you can have with something that doesn't move when you're looking at it. Speaking of which, it was fantastic seeing the Angels move when Amy’s eyes were shut; though obviously not stop-motion, there was something pleasingly Harryhausen-like about the sinuous movements of 'stone' figures. (Also very reminiscent of certain moments in Mike Nichols’ Angels in America.)

I do wonder though if the Weeping Angels are too complicated, relatively speaking, to ensure their longevity? Compared to the Daleks (fascistic robot creatures) or Cybermen (mechanised humans), stone statues that are defined by the rules governing them (you have to stare at them… but not for too long) aren’t perhaps straight-forward enough to support numerous rematches. Look at Victory of the Daleks though; maybe that’s for the best.

Like The Beast Below’s glorious production design, the ludicrous idea of a forest aboard a space ship is quite inspired, and, as with The Eleventh Hour, it's wonderful to see more non-urban environments. It also forms a good hunting ground for the Angels, but, it must be said, in terms of the much-overstated ‘scare factor,’ the Angels are creepy, and they’re used effectively to create tension… but this is no scarier than Doctor Who’s ever been. Though a combination of humour and scares is bread and butter to Doctor Who, perhaps this is due to a jokiness which persists from the previous four series – especially in regard to the Doctor – which all too often means the former negates the latter.

I’m slightly uncertain as to how to feel about this story, but I think that’s mainly down to the frustration of not being able to put it into the context of an entire season yet. As Matt Smith’s first two-parter though, it’s a welcome addition to the student-Doctor’s freshman year, where – for once - the resolution to the cliffhanger is actually better than the cliffhanger itself. Crap titles, though.

*I can forgive Jean-Pierre Jeunet pretty much anything, but still - what?!

Reaction: THE TIME OF ANGELS

Written by Steven Moffat, directed by Adam Smith, 2010

Although not up there with Steven Moffat’s best stories, the bravura pre-titles sequence alone puts Victory of the Daleks' stringent traditionalism in the shade. A country park, spaceship, and River Song contacting the Doctor across 12,000 years and blowing herself out of an airlock… That’s a brilliant couple of minutes of Doctor Who. (Though it would have been fun to see Churchill hurtling through space into the Doctor's arms...)

I didn’t really have any expectations of this story, with its returning elements making me forget to wonder what it'd actually be about. In a way, I was slightly apprehensive about the return of the Weeping Angels, as they’re such an integral part of Blink I wasn’t sure they’d work outside of that context. However, it's nice to see them not only in an entirely different situation, but being expanded upon and not used in exactly the same ways.

As for River - well, you've got to love a woman with a gun small enough to fit in her handbag. Her hallucinogenic lipstick and female Indianna Jones shtick is fab, too. Also, her Marilyn hair and glam outfit suggest a Romana-like potential for varied costumes, which is welcome, given how little eccentricity the series' recurring characters have displayed since 2005. The idea of her carrying photos of all the Doctors' faces is a pleasingly mundane way to deal with their timey-wimey relationship, and means I can't help imagine her turning up, Iris Wildthyme-like, throughout the classic Doctors' lives. Although, with those prior to the sexually-awakened Eighth, she'd probably be slightly disappointed.

The archness of River’s teasing about her future role in the Doctor’s life becomes almost too contrived here to be truly intriguing. She also seems rather smugger than in Silence of the Library/Forest of the Dead - but then there's still next week's episode, where perhaps she'll display more of that story's sensitive side. Her lasciviousness is still fun though, if slightly overplayed.

In a way, the setting for this story is a little underwhelming, though at least the caves have been filmed on location - if all the Doctor Who stories set in caves had actually been filmed in caves, I can't help but feel its reputation for shoddiness would be much diminished. The maze of the dead reminds me quite strongly of the labyrinth in Barbarella (which also features an angel… I’m on to you, Moffat), with its living inhabitants becoming calcified into the walls. For all the inevitable chatter about how scary this episode is, in Vadim's film it's a lot more uncanny and freakish. However, where the story excels is with little twists like the Iraq war-style soldiers in fact being clerics (“Bishop! Lock and load”), or the TARDIS not being supposed to make its 'wheezing, groaning noise' (the sort of thing the vast majority of authors'd take for granted). These details do enliven the story somewhat, and are one of the joys of Moffat’s scripts.

A lot of people have commented on the recurrence in this series of tropes from Moffat's previous stories (the ward of 'possessed' patients, etc), and here we're again treated to typical tricks like repeated phrases ("Come and see this"), trickery with radios/voices from beyond the grave, and even mundane names being used to humanise a future setting. I’m not really sure whether those elements are reassuring or verging on becoming tired. The Angels using Sacred Bob's apologetic voice and speech patterns though (another of Doctor Who’s pretty, doomed soldiers), is extremely effective, while also undermining any expectations of what they might sound like should they talk.

Amy and the Doctor continue to be great here, but I still feel like they're being taken for granted. Much as I liked them both immediately, as I’ve said in previous reviews, I’m still not convinced they've really had the chance to come into their own. Amy, particularly, is acting like an old hand, when we haven’t really seen much evidence of her coming to grips with her new lifestyle. Having said that, it’s good to see a more pained side to Smith’s performance, in his reaction to River’s demanding presence (in fairness, you’d be pretty sore about being bossed around by a wife (?!) you hadn’t really met yet). On balance though, the teasing, sibling-like relationship between the two leads is shaping up nicely.

Strangely, I also find myself missing the anchoring effect that returning to the Powell Estate or phoning Martha or Donna’s mothers had between 2005-09; at the time, I always felt that inability for the series to entirely detach itself from the companions’ home lives damaged the magic of being whisked off in time and space, but I feel - albeit over only four episodes - this season would benefit from the context a 'home' situation would provide. (Having said that, I realise we must be returning to Leadworth at some point, though not until after Vampires in Venice.)

Overall, I'm not quite sure what to make of this episode. I liked it…it’s good – but I will reserve judgement till the second part has aired. Maybe it’s the pressure of being a twofold ‘event’ story, with greater expectations to live up to, but it doesn’t seem to have quite the complexity of Moffat’s past two parters (or even the - albeit overrated - Blink), and the cliffhanger is a little weak. Surely it was also really obvious that all the statues were Angels, even from the pre-series teasers?

No doubt lots of people'll praise it as a return to the 'scary' Moffat of The Empty Child and Silence in the Library, but, although that's by no means unwelcome, I enjoyed the opening up of his writing to encompass lighter openers. I’m even almost looking forward to his take on the season finale - a definite first.

Mike Skinner though…? Also, on a music-related note, I just saw in an interview with Matt Smith that aside from the xx and Grizzly Bear he also likes gay Canadian videogame-nerd violinist/singer Owen Pallett, aka Final Fantasy. That’s it, favourite Doctor ever…

Reaction: THE ELEVENTH HOUR

Written by Steven Moffat, directed by Adam Smith, 2010

Over the past five years, it’s been very infrequent that I’ve felt immediately compelled to gush about a story. What I mean is, I don’t get impressed by every shiny new story that comes along. But… I may have to gush now.

Aside from the fact that this is a whole new era, no season opener is allowed to be this good, is it?!

After a pre-titles series which almost outdoes Russell T Davies on what Steven Moffat has called the Superman end of the Doctor Who spectrum, the story is otherwise much more firmly ensconced in the latter’s self-confessed Tim Burton end of the scale. Actually, that comparison annoys me because Tim Burton’s ‘gothic whimsy’ has become so tired and soullessly by-numbers. This is better than that. Let’s just call it dark fairytale, and say it completely comes off.

I love the creepy kids’ story atmosphere that the beginning especially drips with, while the concept of the Doctor first meeting a companion as a child is quite beautiful (albeit with obvious shades of The Girl in the Fireplace), and reinforces Moffat’s talent for tapping into a childlike perspective. Oblique approaches are often the most satisfying, and that is certainly the case in introducing the new Doctor through the eyes of a little girl who will become a companion.

I don’t want to be as gauche as to suggest this is simply ‘better than Davies’ (…or do I?), but this is so much closer to where I personally want Doctor Who to be at. As part of that, it’s inexpressibly lovely to see a bucolic, pastoral sensibility brought to the series, in the form of Leadworth’s archetypal sleepy English village. It makes me realise how starved for greenery we’ve been for the past few years, given Davies’ predisposition toward the urban. Bloody yuppie.

In fact, everything here seems so much more effortless than under Davies – for example, the introduction of (presumably recurring?) characters like Rory, Jeff, and (the wonderful) Annette Crosby’s old dear. Interesting too that they all already know ‘the Raggedy Doctor’ by reputation. Everything feels much more natural and flowing than the jumpy contrivances, authorial whims, and often fatuous tone of the previous era. It’s not so much ‘darker,’ but more… textural? More fleshed out, richer. Alright, Rory may basically be Mickey, but I can forgive that because… he’s not Mickey. (Also – no more companions’ parents!)

I’ve been looking forward to this series, era, reboot – whatever you want – more than I’d probably care to admit. And I knew it’d be great, I really did – but I still had my qualified reservations. Maybe it’ll all fall apart after this… but I really don’t think so.

I don’t even remember the last time I’ve been this excited about Doctor Who after watching a story. I’ve had big problems with the underlying ethos of the show since 2005, and there’s always been some element that soured all but the very best of the stories for me… But this – this is the most vital it has felt for the past five years. It’s enormously pleasing to welcome a whole new eye on the series; Rose, Martha and Donna might have seemed different at the time, but a little distance shows how superficial those differences were, and that the series was still very much anchored by one outlook for that entire period. By contrast, even just visually, the use of glitchy flashback, the Jeunet-like stop-motion Doctor’s-eye-view sequence, and subtle lensflare during the apple scene, are welcome novelties. Suddenly I feel on the side of the production team, and I can’t wait to see where this reinvigoration takes us.

That The Eleventh Hour manages – and it really does manage – to usher in a new era, new Doctor, new companion, new location, and still tell a satisfying, involving story, with lots of atmosphere and ideas, continuity references to not only the new series (the Shadow Proclamation; the finger-click; the glowing key; ‘the earth is protected,’ etc) but also to the old (the TARDIS’ library and swimming pool; stealing clothes from a hospital), whilst balancing a modern yet also traditional feel, sustain a frantic pace (without it merely masking a paucity of story), and still find time for humour and outrageous daftness… (And yes, I know that was a long sentence.) Well, I can’t even really be bothered to justify how immensely impressed I am by this story.

In the interest of slightly spurious balance, I will say that the rearranged theme music is... unfortunate, and the titles (like the logo) are poor; arching electricity is so passé. But, really… Steven Moffat, where have you been all my life?!