Series one #1: "The Doctor’s making house calls"

ON SERIES ONE

During this transitional period, it seems appropriate to attempt some sort of evaluation of Russell T Davies’ tenure. There’s almost too much to say about him, most of which has probably been said before, so I’m going to stick to an unbiased evaluation of his first season.

This is the first time I’ve actually watched this series objectively. I wasn’t hugely impressed at the time, but after the event things inevitably matter less, so it’s easier not to find it so frustrating. In retrospect, the flaws are put in perspective, by now simply being part of Doctor Who’s ongoing history.

The fact that this is pretty much the first season within Doctor Who to be made as an interlinking whole, rather than an arbitrary collection of stories, gives it a unique edge. These ten stories form an almost self-contained era in themselves, and, almost despite myself – given what I felt about it in 2005 – this has unexpectedly become one of my favourite seasons.

Review: ROSE
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Keith Boak, 2005

There’s barely a story here at all (especially since we effectively miss the beginning of the Doctor’s involvement), and as a big return it was underwhelming - but in retrospect… Though painted in broad (even superficial) strokes, and not entirely effective overall, Rose is interesting in offering an outsider’s view into the Doctor’s world (and feels less contrived than later Doctor-lite episodes with a similar premise).

The initial introduction of the TARDIS has to be one of the most effective scenes here, genuinely making the interior seem impressively awe-inspiring – but generally, for an introduction to the Doctor’s world, there isn’t much magic; it’s all outweighed rather than balanced by the mundane elements. (Though it is at least easier now to overlook things like the wheelie bin and ‘antiplastic,’ knowing the series is capable of greater things.)

While I quite like seeing the Doctor in a unusual milieu, the ‘real life’ stuff (football matches and compensation and late-night shopping and “work and food and sleep”) seems a bit forced. It just doesn’t ring true – it’s more like Davies has decided this would be a good approach to take.

However, the introduction of the Doctor-as-terrorist is intriguing, particularly as this is something modern TV would ordinarily be at pains to disassociate itself from. His over-confidence and zaniness can seem forced though (Eccleston does gravitas far better than ‘wacky energy’; his anguish when facing the Consciousness is very compelling). I do find it hard to relate this cocky Mancunian striding around the Powell Estate with the previous Doctors, but I also sort of like that ‘difficulty’. The introduction to the concept of the Doctor as something bigger and more alien than we’ve seem so far, through Clive, shows the TVM how to go about introducing the main character.

I’m surprised to find that a story I’ve always deemed too slight to even dislike per se literally put a smile on my face. I must be becoming forgiving in my old age. It’s very slight, of course, but enjoyable on its own terms: as an easily-digestible introduction to the series. Surprisingly though, it doesn’t feel like it has much to do with, say, series four or the most recent specials. Though this story is trying to be fresh and fast-paced, it feels a lot less flashy than the more recent stories, with a tighter focus - which is definately a good thing.

Series one #2: "Perhaps a man only enjoys travel when he has nothing else left"

Review: THE END OF THE WORLD
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Euros Lyn, 2005

As with Rose, I have always been deeply underwhelmed by this episode, as it barely feels like a full story at all. However, viewed in the context of its initial broadcast – as an introduction to and exploration of the broad canvas that Doctor Who is capable of – its slightness doesn’t seem such a negative. It doesn’t make me feel very much at all (there are no characters to speak of, no real sense of threat or conflict), but, retrospectively, it makes sense as an initial taster to the series (the first three stories comprising contemporary, future, and past settings), and seems more forgivable on those terms.

Though I suppose it works as a showcase for the series, it doesn’t actually look that great (the hotel-like tackiness and basic CG – and especially the blue-painted actors). Nevertheless, I can see why people like it (‘big concepts, bonkers – with emotion’), even if it doesn’t quite gel as far as I’m concerned. It may be more colourful and chaotic than is perhaps typical of more sterile ‘spacey’ environments, but all the elements seem to be put together in quite a contrived way; as with much of the new series, there’s a bit too much pushing of its concepts (the emotional angle, etc). It’s also not quite as funny or clever as it thinks it is, and with too many all-too-obvious illogical moments (the fan). However, I guess harping on these elements is missing the point.

Jabe is very likeable and sympathetic, and interesting too – a simple (if ridiculous) concept, like Cassandra, but I find the bipedal tree more effective. The emotion under the Doctor’s façade of confidence also comes over very well, thanks to Eccleston’s understated reactions to Jabe’s comments. I also like the acknowledgement that Rose barely knows the Doctor yet.

The contrast of the generally bold, cartoony approach and the more emotional moments creates an uncertain tone, and feels as if this particular balance hasn’t been fully struck yet.

Series one #3: "The stiffs are getting lively again!"

Review: THE UNQUIET DEAD
Written by Mark Gatiss, directed by Euros Lyn, 2005

Though more atmospheric and tonally consistent than the previous stories, the Victorian setting of The Unquiet Dead is very tired, especially as within Doctor Who it’s become a default not-too-far-back past era. This is particularly a shame when there are so many under-explored eras, with consequently more interesting visuals (as per plague-ridden 1666 in The Visitation, or eighteenth century France in The Girl in the Fireplace, say).

Though surprisingly full-on (yes, the pre-credits, neck-snappings, and even the darkly made-up feet of the corpses in the mortuary), it’s just not that interesting, with its traditionalism making it a little boring. Also, it strikes me as far less handsome than, say, Ghost Light; this feels like fairly mundane location work with appropriate dressing, whereas that felt, more intriguingly, like a whole world within one house. I suppose the locales here, in its Cardiff setting, aren’t particularly interesting – which is almost part of the joke.

This is a textbook ‘trad’ Doctor Who story, an idea that I hate because it’s such a meaningless concept; the aforementioned Ghost Light is a ‘traditional’ (ie, classic) story, but is totally unique. Trad equates to a melange of typical attributes, which is then by definition entirely boring – as such, there is nothing original, imaginative or unexpected here. It works, because the tropes it utilises are effective ones, but it’s almost entirely unmemorable.

If that sounds harsh, I guess it’s perfectly acceptable within the context of the new series, but unexceptional in the broader context of Doctor Who as a whole. Admittedly, it does feel like there are more actual characters than in Russell T Davies’ season openers (although admittedly this amounts to Dickens and Gwyneth), and I feel Mark Gatiss’ effort is a step up, but the story is still so straightforward that there is barely a plot at all.

Series one #4: "Would you rather silent but deadly?"

Review: ALIENS OF LONDON/WORLD WAR THREE
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Keith Boak, 2005

This story has always represented the elements of Davies’ writing which I really dislike (lack of logic, juvenile silliness, scatological elements, deus ex machina resolutions and general laziness), but, this time round, I actually really enjoyed it. I’m not sure it’s necessarily good, but it’s enjoyable (even if there isn’t much beyond that).

I’m done with anti-Davies rants, partly because enough time has elapsed to give me a bit of perspective, and, now The End of Time has come and gone, already none of it seems to matter any more. The Davies era is history now, it’s qualifiable, and I find that comforting. Also, part the problem I’ve had with new Who stems from the insufferably endless commentary and hyperbole that surrounds each new series. Stripped of that, it’s easier to put these stories in context with the past, and to accept them on their own terms.

On that basis I enjoy this story’s overblown-ness – now that it is separate from what it portends for the future; now, it just is. While I agree Davies’ reluctance to go ‘dark’ too often can come across as deliberate fan-baiting, I also agree it’d almost be too easy to go ‘edgy.’ It’s kind of brave to go in this direction (even if it’s really more motivated by keeping a mainstream audience, and fair enough I guess) – overblown and revelling in silliness is quite unfashionable, so it’s kind of laudable that Davies managed to make that approach accepted. I find that likeable, almost despite myself.

It’s fun. That’s good. There’s also a surprising level of gravitas and tension, while the emotional elements feel less bolted on here. (And, considering I often find fans’ dismissal of ‘silly’ stories like The Chase or Underwater Menace irritatingly po-faced, at least I’m practising what I preach!) Plus, I absolutely love Harriet Jones/Penelope Wilton, and seeing Rose as a missing person is a welcome nod toward the repercussions of the companion being whisked away.

As you’d hope from a two-parter, it feels more expansive than Rose, The End of the World, or The Unquiet Dead – and, more importantly, it feels unexpected; it doesn’t fit into a neatly predefined Doctor Who subgenre in the way those first three arguably do.

Series one #5: "You would make a good Dalek"

Review: DALEK
Written by Robert Shearman, directed by Joe Ahearne, 2005

There isn’t much to say about this episode. I think it’s the most entirely successful episode of the series so far, including as it does the best ever use and exploration of the Daleks, as well as feeling substantial enough to convince as a whole, complete story within the 45 minute runtime. It also undoubtedly benefits from an admirably tighter focus and limited setting – something which is arguably true of series one in its entirety, compared to later stories like The Fires of Pompeii or Planet of the Dead. And it was genius to hold back such a major part of the Doctor Who ‘legend,’ which makes so much more sense than the series blowing its wad with them in a season opener.

The Dalek/Doctor interaction is genuinely electrifying, and I love the unheroic spin on the Doctor, and his spittle-flecked vitriol (“Why don’t you just DIE!”). However, the story is a bit too desperate to show off by countering old prejudices about the series, and therefore overdoing the Dalek’s capabilities, and also too in love with Terminator-lite hardware. I’d prefer some of the more unhinged, dwarf-mutilating bonkers-ness of Shearman’s Jubilee audio.

Also, although the idea of the museum makes sense to be in America (it just wouldn’t work in England), the Utah setting doesn’t seem entirely convincing. (Conveniently British) Adam and the slightly clumsy love interest doesn’t work that well either. In fact, most of the incidental characters – Van Statton included – don’t really match up to the ‘hardness’ of the central conflict between the Doctor and Nick Briggs/the Dalek.

The emotional slant on the Dalek is very effective – I’ve always liked them best when portrayed as emotional (if deranged) rather than cold and logical – as is its perception and intelligence. This is the former portrayal taken to extremes, where we see one experiencing loneliness and anguish and self-doubt.

Unfortunately, all the subsequent new series Dalek stories have been downhill from this high point, with Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways immediately reducing them to a cartoon army, and mere shocktroops for their Emperor. (Although I guess that isn’t really a Dalek story; they’re just the most appropriate baddie for a big finale.)

However, does no-one else find a gravitas-boosting choral rip-off of Carmina Burana a hugely predictable choice for the Daleks’ score?

Series one #6: "How can you walk through the world and not leave a single footprint?"

Review: THE LONG GAME
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Brian Grant, 2005

It was this story that prompted me to re-evaluate this season, when I watched one story from each Doctor’s era consecutively, so I’ve already discussed it in more depth here.

I’d always considered this season jarring in its tone, irritatingly contrived in its forced banality, and with excessively juvenile excesses, lazy writing – etc, etc; you know the rest. From a truly critical perspective, I stand by those things. But hindsight has allowed me enough perspective to appreciate this season in spite of them.

Therefore, I find this a perfectly competent story – not hugely important, but this time round the season structure has really come home to me (especially by comparison to the old series); not so much in terms of the simplistic ‘Bad Wolf’ references, but more in its recurring settings (contemporary earth, space stations in orbit), and as such I think the season as a whole amounts to more than the sum of its parts.

A story like this isn’t truly exceptional, but is elevated by its position in a series of stories designed to be watched together. I like the classic series’ standalone-ness, but this story, say, would be nothing in that context, showing how effective the modern approach can be.

Series one #7: "The past is another country - 1987’s just the Isle of Wight"

Review: FATHER'S DAY
Written by Paul Cornell, directed by Joe Ahearne, 2005

Father’s Day is a very good story, one of the most adult of this run, which feels like it should be a favourite – but somehow I always end up forgetting it. Paul Cornell's prose is, I find, much overrated, but he brings a welcome sophistication to the series here. Everything is a little less obvious and unflashy in this story compared to elsewhere, even down to reapers’ unusual design, which is a far cry from, say, the Slitheen. In fact, Father’s Day feels like nothing so much as a contracted New Adventure: it’s character driven, with an emphasis on the companion, and includes the Doctor’s apparent death and removal from the narrative.

Like Dalek, it also benefits from a tight focus, and its atypical, unsanitised eighties urban setting. It’s funny that this is a period Doctor Who was being filmed during, but which was only shown as a realistic contemporary environment once, in Survival. Partly because of the downplayed situation, the domestics also feel more believable here, while managing to avoid mawkishness, perhaps because there is a genuine – and universally – emotional core at the heart of the story.

This story in particular also makes me realise that one of the things I prize about series one over the rest of Davies’ oeuvre, is that the program hasn’t yet become monstrously self-involved. Much as I like that companions’ tenures have been made more fluid, with Donna returning after The Runaway Bride, or Martha appearing in The Sontaran Stratagem after leaving the TARDIS, the recurrence of certainly attendant characters like Jackie, Pete, et al, makes the Doctor Who world flabby and over-indulgent.

I would contest that the series is much stronger when given a simple basis of supporting characters; in this case, Rose, her mum, her kind-of boyfriend, and the one-off appearance of her father in this story. Complications like alt-Pete in series two are, I suppose, an unavoidable consequence of a science-fiction format, but Rose coming to be used as a totemic figure who pops up occasionally as a ratings-grabbing device does a disservice to this series’ directness.

I enjoy the self-contained feel of this season; it may have more supporting characters than at any other period outside of the UNIT era, but its straight-forward inclusiveness is a great strength.

Series one #8: "Life; nature’s way of keeping meat fresh"

Review: THE EMPTY CHILD/THE DOCTOR DANCES
Written by Steven Moffat, directed by James Hawes, 2005

It goes without saying that this is a highpoint of series one, but it really is excellent. The Ninth Doctor particularly comes alive for me in this story. He’s charismatic and confident, and fits the somewhat bleak period, while his rapport with the homeless kids (how often can you say that?) and sympathy for the Child takes the edge off.

The homeless kids are a good example of how well Steven Moffat can make things work that might otherwise be easy to fumble. They could be obnoxiously irritating and twee, but instead come across as a pleasingly unique focus within a relatively familiar (though always potent) milieu.

The production design makes the most of this setting, resulting in a rare example of a Doctor Who that looks beautiful: all the dark wood, and the noirish, canted angles and expressionist shadows, the lighting on location shining on damped-down surfaces, and the candlelight in the kids’ hideout. It has a very hyper-real aesthetic, which I think suits the series (with its adventure/family slant), and I like the balance of a visually dark but vibrant palette, which stops short of becoming as garish as some other stories in this series. I love the CG air raid, too – it’s wildly unrealistic (yes, it’s ‘well done,’ but you couldn’t say it is any more ‘real’-looking than the old series’ modelwork), but with its composited feel, it looks quite gorgeous (and reminiscent of the thirties aesthetic of the otherwise rubbish Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow). The use of the grainy, wavering, distorted gasmask viewpoint also works well in destabilising the image.

Jack is great here, pre loss of humour, though interestingly he doesn’t come across as a companion in his first story, in the way many do (say, Adric, Martha). He is more dashing, ambiguous and devious than we’re used to, and seems much younger than he does only a few years down the line. Ironically, he’s also more Doctorish than when he effectively takes up that role in Torchwood, and manages to match the Doctor’s charisma here, while being equally capable of gravitas when necessary.

Where, in some ways, Father’s Day feels like a ‘teenage’ story, with an emphasis on relationship and emotionalism, The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, though one of the darkest and most adult stories of this season, still feels like a full-blooded adventure. Possibly the reason it works so well is in its balance of various archetypal Doctor Who elements; an atmospheric setting, scares, humour, adventure. That there are silly moments (the barrage balloon), sitcom-y writing (recurring phrases and gags; a slightly mannered style), but also many genuinely funny lines (“And in a pinch you could put up some shelves”) alongside its creepiness works very much in its favour. The conceit of the Child and the ‘physical injuries as plague’ is simple and economically creepy; one catchphrase and some gasmasks. The combination of these elements creates a good balance within the tone of the story, and overall it’s the closest this run comes to flawless.

However, it does loose something through rewatching in a way, say, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead doesn’t seem to, because that has a greater emotional core which remains even after you’re familiar with the mysteries within the plot. Whereas here, there seems to be less going on once you know who the Child is and are familiar with the situation at large.

I’m an unashamed fan of the complexity and relative sophistication of season twenty-six, and, though the storytelling there could sometimes be muddled, this comes across almost as a more mainstream take on that style. What appeals to me about stories like Ghost Light and Fenric, though, is their density and unconventional narratives – so, seeing this as a neater, more mainstream-friendly take on that approach, I’m not sure it is actually a good thing. In a way, Moffat’s writing is almost too proficient, whereas I enjoy a slightly more oblique or idiosyncratic approach. Nevertheless – let’s not get carried away; to my mind, this is the ultimate Ninth Doctor story.

Series one #9: "You're pleading for mercy out of a dead woman’s lips"

Review: BOOM TOWN
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Joe Ahearne, 2005

This story is often derided for its pieced-together format: the use of convenient, contemporary location filming; the TARDIS standing set; a monster from one earlier story and concepts from another – but it actually helps to tie the run together. This really is a coherent season, rather than an arbitrary collection of stories, and I appreciate seeing budgetary limitations being used to drive creativity.

In fact, I have quite a soft spot for this story; with its moral thorniness, it plays as the more adult flipside to Aliens of London/World War Three. These moral issues may be fudged at the end, but the Doctor’s ambiguities are fascinating exactly for their irresolvability, and I like that he doesn’t come out of Margaret’s cross-examination particularly well either (“Always moving because you dare not look back”).

In an entirely different way, it’s also lovely seeing the TARDIS crew being allowed to hang out and enjoy each other’s company – something which is all too rare, with previous notable examples being as far back as The Chase or The Romans. Mickey is surprisingly welcome for once though, undercutting the admittedly smug dynamic of their “funny little happy-go-lucky life”. (His emotional outburst to Rose, later on, is unexpectedly disarming, too, given how innocuous he’s been up to now.) As for Jack, it’s remarkable how easily he fits in, considering he didn’t really feel like a companion in only the preceding story – however, it is a shame we don’t get to see him settling in more. (What’s with his awful clothes though?)

By no means a perfect story – the comedy moments jar somewhat with the ethical concerns, the traveloguey music is particularly hideous, even for Murray Gold, and the diffuse film quality which makes all light sources glow looks particularly cheap and soft porn. Bu-ut… Overall, I can’t help but feel this is a far more decent story than fan reaction would suggest, much like The Long Game.

PS I wish they’d kept the exclamation mark in the title… Or, better still, actually used ‘What Shall We Do About Margaret?’.

Series one #10: "THIS WILL BE OUR PARA-DISE"

Review: BAD WOLF/THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
Written by Russell T Davies, directed by Joe Ahearne, 2005

‘TV shows gone evil’ could have been an archetypically mad Doctor Who concept, but is fumbled by being so reverential that no satire is displayed. If anything is ripe for parody, it’s reality TV, but no – there’s no opinion about it either way here (by contrast, see Charlie Brooker’s vitriolic ‘zombie Big Brother,’ Dead Set); everything’s made too literal by using real shows, so you can’t avoid the massive cynicism of trading off these shows’ status and then being too scared to rub them the wrong way.

There are attempts at meaningful commentary (“Half the world’s too fat, half the world’s too thin, and you lot just watch telly”), but even the Doctor is distracted from this train of thought, like no-one can bear to bite the hand that feeds. If anything, I would’ve preferred seeing the Doctor in a contemporary Big Brother gone evil. Also, if they were going to do this, if only they’d filmed in the real house; this shitty knock-off belies the trouble gone into getting cross-channel permissions, while The Weakest Link questions are entirely meaningless and thus tedious.

In fact, there is a quite uncanny feel to start with, but the idea of BB et al existing in most respects unchanged 200,000 years in the future is suspension of disbelief busting even on Doctor Who’s ridiculous terms.

I wrote a massive rant when this was first screened – probably textbook ‘anti-RTD,’ in retrospect – about how vapid, contrived, ‘lazy and shallow and embarrassing’ it is, ‘spoon-feeding lumpen proles’. To an extent, I still agree with those comments, it’s just that distance has allowed me to appreciate elements beyond this.

It’s interesting seeing Bad Wolf as a direct sequel to The Long Game, showing again more direct links between the stories here than in later Davies seasons. The costumes are even more mundane though – they aren’t even archetypally iconic silhouettes, just jeans and boring short-sleeved shirts. (With hindsight through, it is nice to have a non-contemporary finale.)

In fact, it all looks a bit cheap – the Playmobil androids and the Daleks’ Quasar set is particularly heinous. I do kind of love the Emperor despite myself, given its clear fanboy button-pushing, though this is mainly down to Nick Briggs, to be fair (“THIS – IS – PER-FECTION!”). The ring-modulated religious terminology works well, too, certainly better than when it’s rehashed in The Next Doctor with the Cybermen – Daleks are more epic and mythic to start with.

The Bad Wolf ‘arc’ (such as it is) is still a letdown, and I feel it should’ve been made clearer that the ‘Bad Wolves’ seeded throughout the series derive from the Corporation here; it always felt to me like the Bad Wolf Corporation was just another incidence of these two words recurring, but Rose’s message to herself wouldn’t have any meaning if it didn’t originate here.

It doesn’t feel particularly special for a finale; it’s a bit too mundane: guns and sci-fi corridors and extras with boring clothes. This mundanity extends to the towtruck opening the TARDIS console (I assumed that was ‘clearly’ going to follow a brute-force-won’t-work route, where Rose’d realise she’d have to commune with the TARDIS to get it to respond to her. Besides which, the angle they’re pulling it at clearly wouldn’t open it). In fact, it’s possibly one of the most straightforward stories of the season, with everything contrived to build toward the moment of regeneration, which doesn’t feel that momentous anyway.

On the flipside, it’s pleasingly unflashy by comparison to later overblown finales, and I do like the highlighting of the Doctor as flawed hero, with his responsibility here for “a hundred years of hell”. Nevertheless, though I’ve become more able to accept the stories that I still particularly don’t like, I would have much preferred to see Kyoto in 1336 than this.

I just wish Davies wouldn’t try to outdo Hollywood – something he can’t possibly do, and which is especially heinous when it’s clearly the Michael Bays, Roland Emmerichs, and, yes, Steven Spielbergs that he’s trying to outdo – big, unsubtle filmmakers, all blood and thunder and saccharine emotion thrown in. Dear god. Trying to take on multimillion-dollar budgets makes it a very foregone conclusion who’s going to come off worse. Those films are soulless enough, but predicated around massive budgets and being able to blow things up on a large scale; Doctor Who can’t do this to any comparable degree, so, to my mind, should alter its game plan accordingly. Yes, the series has done relatively large-scale, globetrotting action well in the past (say, in The Seeds of Doom, etc), but Doctor Who’s forte has always, I’d argue, been smaller and more unusual.

Series one
It’s very interesting, now, with a little distance, appreciating Christopher Eccleston’s season as much a full, legitimate era as any other (eg, the Third Doctor’s, with its ‘UNIT family’), with as many recognisable and distinctive tropes (not least the Mancunian bovver boy Doctor and council estate-blonde companion).

One of the main things I found watching it this time, comfortingly, is that the series is as hokey as ever, really. I mean, to all the outsiders and critics and long-suffering girlfriends. If you don’t care about it, it’s still just stupid monsters and aliens and stuff – even when it’s attempting a serious drama like Father’s Day. That makes me love it.

Having said that, it’s a lot less gaudy and crass than it could have been. Overall, the entire collection of stories may not be entirely to my taste, but I appreciate them as a collection. Everything did get notably fluffier, generally speaking, with the departure of Eccleston, which I now see as fully tragic for the show. In retrospect, this is much more uncompromising and less trite than the later seasons can be (even appearing visually darker).

Also, for all its faults, at least the new series feels (unidealistically) human; people eat bad food, send texts, and get drunk. This can get translated into a relentlessly lower-middle-class mentality, which seems reductively out of place in a series which is capable of such infinite variety, but, say, the preceding TVM, by comparison, doesn’t feel human at all. Grace Holloway is supremely idealised by comparison to most companions: she is a cardiologist, living in a gorgeous house in San Francisco, who goes to the opera. This is pretty much all we know about her. Not that these things aren’t ‘real’; they just feel very contrived to fit the makers’ idea of the character as An Intelligent Nineties Woman. Similarly, the Fifth and Sixth Doctor’s eras under John Nathan-Turner adopted a prissy abhorrence of real life, and barely acknowledged anything as messily human as cravings or fancying someone or even feeling homesick.

I’m not a huge fan of Rose, mainly cos of the horribly hysterical fanfic thing that’s built up around her, and series two’s whinginess. But, on the basis of this series alone, she is the best new series companion. Her reactions are idiosyncratic enough to feel authentically human in a way the bland Martha, likeable though she is, doesn’t. (I can’t help but think this is because the Doctor/Rose pseudo-romance is much more ‘paternal’ and based on mutual respect than with Tennant.)

As for Eccleston’s Doctor, much as I’ve warmed to him this time round, I’m still surprised the general public did; he’s just not easy or particularly accessible (in the ways Tennant is). It’s great that still worked (though puzzling, given how much the general public are written down to elsewhere in the series), but, considering how much he has been erased by Tennant in the public consciousness, I can’t help but feel the show’s initial popularity was more in spite of than because of him.

I used to think of the Ninth Doctor as ineffectual and not even as intelligent as his predecessors. But, he’s canny, subtly driving events from the background. In fact, he reminds me of nothing so much as a combination of the First Doctor’s snappish moral authority and the Seventh’s goofy enthusiasm and energy, shielding a darker persona.

Coming back to this series – which has almost become a forgotten prefix to Tennant’s era – makes me realise that I very quickly stopped actually judging Tennant’s performance, because I take him for granted so much; he simply is the Doctor (for better or worse). While this might be seen as a good thing, my comparative ambivalence about Eccleston makes me consider his at least the more interesting casting (if not simply ‘the better choice’). Also, four years late, it’s only just sinking in what a coup casting a character actor as respected as Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor is.

Overall, series one is more coherent than those that followed (the recurring Albion Hospital and Satellite 5/Gamestation, etc) – arguably a advantage born out of its relative limitations. In series one the show wasn’t yet an all-conquering ratings behemoth and couldn’t indulge its every whim quite so readily, and consequentially it feels tighter.

Its other strength is in not going too far in any one direction. Yes, it has a certain juvenile streak – but it also includes quite serious dramatic approaches. Similarly, there is stunt casting – but also plenty of unknowns in juicy roles. The way the new series’ seasons are set up to shift from a light to a dark tone is also a canny way of ensuring its longevity, rather than settling on one tone.

There are too many slight stories for this to be a classic season, but as a statement of intent for a to all intents and purposes long-dead series, it’s as effective as could be realistically hoped for. (Although, it is interesting how now I can barely imagine how the series could have been brought back different – whereas obviously there are countless possibilities. As, hopefully, we will see under Moffat…)