Reaction: THE MIGHTY 200

So, Carey Mulligan was the cover star of Little White Lies’ An Education issue, which was out at the same time as DWM 413. Among all the raving for a star on the make, there was the obligatory potted summary of her career to date, including the statement that she, “paid her dues doing costume drama (Bleak House, Pride and Prejudice) and Saturday night kitsch (Doctor Who)”. Now, obviously, as a fan, I’m massively defensive of the show, but – perhaps because it’s coming from a publication I respect – this tiny phrase particularly needled me.

Is Doctor Who really just “Saturday night kitsch”? Sentimental, vulgar bad taste, created to appeal to popular or undiscriminating taste… Much as I might like to think otherwise, it doesn’t take much soul-searching to admit that, yes, that’s as good a description as any. (And there’s no point getting your knickers in a twist about that; it’s like when it’s called a kids’ show – well, yes, it is.)

I would contend, strongly, that Doctor Who can rise above that rather damning description, but it’s never going to be Six Feet Under or Generation Kill (etc, etc). Of course, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s not to say it isn’t possible to enjoy the programme to a deeper, more analytical or emotionally involved level. I think it’s also true that – perhaps especially with a certain amount of distance – things that were tawdry at the time can be re-evaluated in retrospect; exploitation films like Shunya Ito’s Female Prisoner Scorpion trilogy is an example of dazzlingly inventive, beautiful, devastating films, but which were/are ‘just’ cheap pinky violence. Similarly, I find a lot more intrinsic appeal and value in the older series of Doctor Who than the current.

All this made me think about the Mighty 200 poll in the concurrent issue of DWM (413), ranking all the stories from An Unearthly Child (#61) to Planet of the Dead (#99). (I realise this is quite belated – but whatever.)

To the Not-We this would be an absurd qualification of a collection of equally kitsch stories. As Gary Gillatt points out in the issue, the first and two-hundredth places are occupied by stories which aired consecutively – which begs the question, would the writers of LWLies even differentiate? In all honesty, I think they would, but maybe I’m being idealistic. For an opinionated film magazine it’s probably obligatory to look down on mainstream Saturday night pop culture entertainment – and probably rightly so. Whereas, as I say, a little perspective goes a long way; Androzani (#1) or Weng-Chaing (#4) would be a lot easier for an outsider (albeit one of broadly the right mindset to start with, ie, not an idiot) to appreciate, precisely because those stories aren’t tuned into the dispiriting idiom of modern TV. (Which can’t even be escaped entirely in the best of the new series, like The Girl in the Fireplace (#11) or Human Nature (#6).)

Anyway, more specifically – Androzani at number one surprises me, but in a pleasing way. Not just because it’s not a Tom or new series story, but because it’s so uncompromising: it’s brutal, direct, with no faffing about with continuity, and features a less than obvious Doctor. In some ways it shows people appreciate tension and violence – there are always calls for more ‘darkness,’ although from other quarters there’s a backlash that Doctor Who should always be optimistic… Personally, I quite like that such a genuinely bleak story wins out. (Not that it’s bleak in the usual meaninglessly nihilistic way of Eric Saward; I suppose that’s the difference - it’s narratively-earned as part of the doomy Doctor’s-going-to-croak atmosphere.)

Actually, Blink (#2) is quite surprising too… I just don’t think it’s as good as any of Steven Moffat’s other stories. Maybe because contemporary settings are, almost by definition, boring. And though Carey Mulligan’s portrayal is likeable, Sally Sparrow gets more and more irritating – if you think about it, if anyone you actually knew said things like “Sad is happy for deep people,” you’d want to punch them in the face.

Where this survey does dispirit me though, is in its reiteration of various ingrained – but dubious - opinions (the Sixth Doctor’s highest story, Revelation, charts at number #46, when Vengeance on Varos (#124), Mark of the Rani (#148), and even the messy Two Doctors (#125) are of comparative good quality).

The Twin Dilemma being last is also predictable and tedious. It is bad, but there are so many stories a billion times more boring or lazy. I recently watched Full Circle (#101) for only the second time, and was forced to revise my initial opinion downwards. While it isn’t fundamentally dreadful, it’s a story where no element is well-realised; the acting is dire, the general look over-lit and flimsy, and the plot isn’t much better. It may not be screamingly bad enough to have attained a ‘bottom ten’ reputation like The Dominators (#191) or The Space Pirates (#195), et al, but this is still very bad Doctor Who, and it makes a mockery of this survey that it came in at 101, above, variously, perfectly decent or underrated stories like The Greatest Show in the Galaxy (#119), The Lazarus Experiment (#150), Boom Town (#141), The Sontaran Experiment (#103), or brilliant ones like The War Machines (#108) and The Myth Makers (#126).

Nevertheless, I was ready to be righteously indignant about the results of this survey, and, on balance, it’s unexpectedly heartening. Obviously, besides perhaps the top and bottom ten, it’s all meaningless. It doesn’t ‘mean’ anything that I can now state “The Time Meddler (#75) is thirteen places better than Castrovalva (#88)”; that’s just gibberish. But, it’s interesting, if more as a historical record of current prejudices than anything.

Still, I expected to be upset, and in fact there’s very little here that depresses me. The poor performance of nearly all the McCoys is disappointing (The Happiness Patrol at #170, Ghost Light at #76), as is the relatively poor performance of Hartnell and Troughton – but considering the wild difference between TV as a format back then, that was always going to be a given.

Getting more specific again, Earthshock at #19 aggrieves me, because it’s awful. Obviously all the stories’ little write-ups are a matter of opinion, but the one for Earthshock read as barefaced lies to me. Possibly written by someone who’s never seen it. Although I’m not in a postion to dig my copy out, so maybe I’m exaggerating. On general principles though, I don’t think there’s a more overrated story. Everything about it is shaky, from the stilted acting to the lightweight Cybermen. Beryl Reid is the only redeeming feature, even if she isn’t molesting nuns. (More’s the pity.)

Equally, there are some other dubious claims, like the statement that Tennant’s performance in Human Nature/The Family of Blood “marks him out as the most accomplished actor to have played the Doctor in 46 years”. Really? He can ham it up with the best of them. For my money, it’s Troughton.

On the other hand, having never experienced any hyping of new stories prior to the new series (and TVM (#135)), it’s gratifying to see new series stories which received the obligatory blanket build-up literally put in their places. It may not ‘mean’ anything, but it’s still satisfying to be able to announce that The Runaway Bride (#115) and Voyage of the Damned (#114) are officially worse than Frontier in Space (#113)…

Admittedly, the inclusion of Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways (#10!), The Stolen Earth/Journey's End (#13!) and Turn Left (#12!) in the top fifteen does rile me a bit, not in a specifically Davies-bashing way, but simply because I don’t think they’re good stories, and the fact that so many people count spectacle and guest appearances over plot or atmosphere, is very grating.

That’s all quite predictable (perhaps less so with the not-quite-so irrevocably crystallised new series stories), but I did expect the rankings to be a riot of fandom’s bad taste (say, The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords (#27) at number one?), so I shouldn’t complain. There’s a few odd ones I’d dispute, but the top 50 is mostly great. There is a noticeable bias in the favour of the new series (some of the new series stories in the top end just aren’t as good as the surrounding classic stories, but I suppose have the edge of fitting into a modern televisual idiom) – but it’s mostly heartening.

Obviously every single fan could contest every single placing – The Seeds of Doom at #16 surprises me, for example; I love it, but it has a feel very much of its own, a surprising attribute of such a high ranking story, and doesn’t seem to have that legendary rep most of the top 20 share... But that’s missing the point.

Although, speaking of ‘the point’… I don’t really have one. I’m a fan; I just can’t help having pesky opinions about everything. Also, I have a cold, so I feel justified in not bothering to attempt a proper conclusion to all this.

As I say, only the top and bottom of the survey really means anything, so take a look for yourself:

#1 The Caves of Androzani
#2 Blink
#3 Genesis of the Daleks
#4 The Talons of Weng-Chiang
#5 The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances
#6 Human Nature/The Family of Blood
#7 Pyramids of Mars
#8 City of Death
#9 The Robots of Death
#10 Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways
…
#191 The Dominators
#192 Fear Her
#193 Paradise Towers
#194 The Underwater Menace
#195 The Space Pirates
#196 Time-Flight
#197 Underworld
#198 Time and the Rani
#199 Timelash
#200 The Twin Dilemma

(You can see the full list here, on Combom.)

The Geek Factor #1: "Splendid fellows," etc

ON THE DOCTORS

The world probably doesn’t need another favourite-Doctor rundown. But, it struck me recently, as I haven’t been doing this for very long, it would probably make sense to provide some thoughts on the Doctors, simply as a way of giving these reviews context.

There’s a good list here, on the blog Postmodern Barney, where it’s very nice to see the Seventh Doctor in the top spot, though the sixties Doctors are somewhat unfairly relegated. However, when I came to try and rank the various Doctors, I just couldn’t. It seems ridiculous to compartmentalise the Doctors in that way, given that I genuinely love all the versions of the character. I do love some of them more, but even so, it all seems rather meaningless and arbitrary, given that it’s almost impossible to disassociate each character from the success of his stories or specific era, and it’d vary depending on which stories I’d seen most recently anyway!

Christ – a fan who can’t abide a list; what a failure!

Besides, if I created a precedence for ranking everything, soon I’d be doing Favourite Masters (Deadly Assassin, Survival), Favourite Companions (Barbara, Ben, Liz, Leela, Ace), Favourite TARDIS Interiors (original, secondary, new series)… And that’d just get silly. So here are simply some thoughts on each Doctor.

The Eleventh Doctor
Well, what can I say? I suppose it is quite interesting being in a position of ignorance about something that soon everyone will have an opinion on, when, at the time of writing, all there is to go on is the final moments of The End of Time and the 2010 series trailer. The “geography teacher/Hoxton clubkid” costume is really the only element up for comment, and I’ve done that already (here) – though it can’t really be overstated: great boots.

Perhaps the thing I find most heartening about this new Doctor is, if you imagine Matt Smith stood next to William Hartnell (who, as the original, I can’t help but measure all others against), clubkid meets Edwardian gentlemen should just seem really… wrong. But it doesn’t. Even on a purely visual basis, it makes sense that Smith is a version of the same character. That seems like a pretty good basis to start out on.

The Tenth Doctor
There’s quite a lot I don’t like about the Tenth Doctor; the overstated emotionalism, and sometimes hammy performance (and, for someone as contrary as me, his current pop-cultural status doesn’t help). However, he does have the advantage of being given a range of stories which deliberately allow the Doctor to be characterised as an actual person, and to develop in hitherto unseen ways. That counts for a lot, but, although it might be a superficial view, his cheeky-chappie shtick just grates on me.

The Ninth Doctor
The thing I always emphasise about the Ninth Doctor is how ambiguous I feel about him – but, on balance, I like him (almost against my better judgement) because he’s so unprecedented. All those unbound or hypothetical Doctors that people make up or have appeared in different capacities in certain books and novels, they’re always basically versions or combinations of the existing Doctors. While you can see some of Tom or McGann in Eccleston’s portrayal, not in a million years would anyone have predicted a leather-clad Mancunian Doctor. And I’m fairly sure fandom would have been horrified at the prospect if it wasn’t quite so desperate for a new series by 2005. That’s probably all to the good though. His zaniness is overstated, but his at least outwardly distinct approach works.

The Eighth Doctor
The Eighth is an odd one. He’s a fantastic Doctor, and it’s very unusual feeling genuinely able to say that on the basis of one story, in which he nails the part. However, I do feel the understanding of the character displayed by the production team of the TVM was superficial at best, and, in retrospect, he could have done with some of the new series’ clarity in that respect.

It’s been noted before that there is something quite weak about the Doctor by the end of the TVM; obviously, the Doctor has been vulnerable before (something I quite like, as I’m dubious about him being infallible) – but in, say, Androzani, it at least chimed with the general doomy, end-of-an-era atmosphere. To have a new Doctor seem out of his depth at the end of his introductory story seems a mistake, and he could have done with some new series-style conviction and belief in the character as a hero, someone who is never weak or clueless.

It’s slightly unfair, but I also feel the character of the Eighth Doctor has been compromised by the ‘niceness’ (in the most mediocre sense of the word) and hugginess of a lot of his BBC novel series, where he was mired with wet companions like Sam Jones, or Charley in the audios. I know Compassion was a bit of a bitch, but she never lived up to her potential, and was arguably too little too late. I can’t help but feel a more uncompromising companion along the lines of the New Adventures’ Roz Forrester or Kadiatu Lethbridge-Stewart might have enabled him to show a bit more steel.

The Seventh Doctor
I can understand the problems some people have with McCoy. His era dared to do something that wasn’t a replica of the series’ seventies approach (and, inevitably, his stories form a large part of how people judge his performance), and was a bit too ‘madcap’ for some. He also had a weak start, and yes, the scripts didn’t always capitalise on his strengths as an actor.

But in spite of all that, I genuinely think he’s brilliant, and he’s absolutely one of my favourite Doctors. He inhabits the part, and is the polar opposite of the handsome romantic of say, McGann or Tennant, which is great – a more ‘difficult’ approach, but, I think, a more worthy one. He’s particularly brilliant at the little moments, which seems appropriate to the manipulative backseat his Doctor takes.

The Sixth Doctor
The constant knocking of the Sixth Doctor gets pretty tedious. I enjoy quite a lot of season twenty-two, and I think Colin Baker makes a good Doctor – unfortunately, there’s nothing remarkable enough about him to make him stand out particularly. To my mind, the idea of a dangerous, unpredictable Doctor is an appealing one; what’s more problematic is that he wasn’t allowed enough opportunities to actually characterise his Doctor, or even enough chances to really act.

I probably prefer this Doctor more in theory than practise, the upside of his not being afforded a great deal of variety or particularly strong writing on-screen meaning there’s a lot of potential to explore in other media. As such, the Sixth Doctor is a lot more interesting in terms of novels and so on than the versions which were unarguably effective on TV; obviously the most popular Doctors are going to be the ones people want to revisit the most, but what’s the point in missing adventures featuring the Fourth Doctor, say, which, to be successful, are simply going to have to stringently ape something that already works perfectly well.

The Fifth Doctor
My least favourite Doctor - although, inevitably this also reflects my feelings on his weak, directionless collection of stories, given how difficult it is to separate the character, actor, and era. Actually, of those angles, I quite like the idea of the character, I just don’t think he was sold terribly well, and was lumbered with a run of bland, directionless stories, and wooden companions.

Steven Moffat’s described him as the first of the ‘modern’ Doctors, but I find it hard to equate him with Eccleston or Tennant, who were characterised with a very sure hand, and where there is a feeling that everyone involved knew exactly what they wanted for the part. The Fifth, on the other had, struggles against not only, arguably, the weakest period of the show, but also against the cluelessness of a production team that didn’t know what to do with this vulnerable, effete version of the Doctor.

The Fourth Doctor
I have relatively little to say about the Fourth Doctor; Tom is clearly a great Doctor, but he doesn’t do as much for me as he seemingly does everyone else. I think I’m just all too aware that outside of his performance he has an unfair amount of advantages: he not only played the part for seven seasons (which is insane, when you think about it), he was also afforded a large variety of approaches and tone, a certain amount of stories which would be excellent whoever was in then, and a large number of successful, varied companions.

The ubiquity of such a long-running character plays a part in my feelings about this Doctor, but, more notably, I’d suggest there is often no real sense of genuine feeling in his performance. I find it hard to imagine the Fourth Doctor as an emotional being, even under the surface, as he mainly remains apathetic and detached.

The Third Doctor
Another one I’m quite ambiguous about. I do love the Third Doctor, but a certain amount of that comes from spurious feelings of warm fuzzy nostalgia, despite not being born for eleven years after his on-screen demise. It’s hard to be objective about long-term Doctors, but when you get through the familiarity, he does seem a lot different from the others; more grounded (appropriately, given the earth-exile format), more action-oriented, and perhaps the most serious of all the Doctors. People tend to ascribe a po-facedness to the First Doctor, probably because they don’t know anything about him, but I would say Pertwee’s performance is much more humourless.

As one of the most ‘classic’ classic Doctors, I’m often surprised by the underlying lack of appreciation for him there seems to be within fandom. As with the Fifth, I’m not a great fan of the majority of his seasons, but nevertheless, there is a blend of playfulness and authority in Pertwee’s (underrated?) performance which I find appealing. Perhaps one of the most out-and-out ‘heroes’ of all the Doctors, while I’d dispute whether that’s really what I want from the character, he certainly appeals to my inner child.

Though he has a reputation as a bastard, given the choice, I’d most like to travel with Three, as there’s a reassuring straightforwardness to him. The Second may be more lovable, but has a devious streak. And the Eighth would just lead to a Sam Jones situation, and we don’t want that.

The Second Doctor
Troughton is brilliant as the anarchic flipside to Hartnell, and has a far deeper characterisation that usually attributed to him (probably in part due to The Three, Five and Two Doctors). I do think he’s a totally brilliant actor; I’ve used this phrase before, but I love how he can switch from impish to chocolatey purring at the drop of a (stovepipe) hat. As with McCoy, he’s one of my absolute favourites, to the extent that I find it quite hard to qualify why. Given that Troughton managed to create an entirely lovable character also capable of a great deal of depth and sensitivity (as in his handling of Victoria’s desire to leave in Fury from the Deep), it’s tragic that the scrapping of so many of his episodes leaves him often overlooked.

The First Doctor
I’ve seen morons on messageboards ranking Hartnell lowest of all the Doctors, while freely admitting to not really having seen any of his stories, or (worse) only having seen him in The Three Doctors. Meaning they have entirely no right to rate him at all.

This particularly infuriates me because, given the increased marginalisation of older figures in popular culture, I can absolutely understand why the idea of an old Edwardian man, in black and white, is considered a complete turn-off. But, I adore Hartnell, and I genuinely think that’s he’s one of the absolute best Doctors, and for me certainly a favourite alongside, or even above Troughton and McCoy.

There seems to be a sense that people think Hartnell can only be appreciated with a major downturn in expectations, that to get anything from his period of the show you need to humour the series, or view it ironically. Well, bollocks. He might be one of the hardest Doctors to ‘get’ initially, but when you do, Hartnell is authoritative and, yes, irascible, but he's also loveable and very funny. His main strength though, apart from his unusualness as a TV hero, is his variability, which is probably unparalleled by any other Doctor, at least until Tennant. It’s not only the major shift from mysterious and accusatory in his initial stories to the more kindly granddad he become, but numerous permutations within that. I don’t think any other of the Doctors shifts so much within their characterisation. He’s always entertaining and compelling – an absolute star.

With the Seventh Doctor, my love for the character may in part derive more from the presentation of the Doctor within the series – that is, an acknowledgment of a grander, more mythologised character for the first time. With the First and Second though, it’s almost entirely due to Hartnell and Troughton’s masterful performances. I couldn’t love these men any more. Particularly Troughton, in my opinion, may well be the most effortless actor of all the Doctors.

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…)

Ten Stories #9: "We all know what happens to nonentities! They get promoted"

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

I’m not overly familiar with series one, as, though it got me back into Doctor Who, I wasn’t massively involved with it (and certainly not its run-up). But now, I’ve gotten to grips with the new series’ approach; the mix of serious stories with ‘zany’ ones, its emotional button-pushing and crowd-pleasing, and tend to cherry-pick the bits I like. But in 2005, it all felt hugely inconsistent, and a personal affront every time it was too crass or lazy. (It’s funny that now – already – it’s like going back to a forgotten, apocryphal era; like the Cushing movies, or at least an obscure prologue to Tennant’s incumbency.)

As for the Doctor, I’m deeply ambivalent about his 2005 vintage: I can’t help but feel, if you wanted an uneccentric, cocky, aggressive, war-scarred character, why make him the Doctor at all? (“Ooh, he’s tough, isn’t he?”) But at the same time, the unexpectedness of these characteristics makes him one of the most interesting incarnations, because no-one would have predicted his Mancunian swagger.

In fact, a lot of my beef with the Ninth Doctor is with his costume. I mean, I get it – black leather is shorthand for an unpretentious ‘edginess’ that’s accessible to the masses in a way a wing-collared shirt wouldn’t be. But I tend to view things in a visual sense, so maybe this bugs me more than most people, so, as the Doctor’s costume has always been such a strong visual signifier of his characteristics, this seems… unfortunately mundane. However, again, as an exception to the rule it’s interesting – so I’m ambivalent here too. (Mainly I just don’t like the hideous t-shirt/jumper thing. At least a shirt or actual jumper would’ve been more timeless.)

I do like that the Ninth Doctor is ugly though (striking, yes; handsome, no); they didn’t cast a stud Doctor, which would be one of the worst things that could happen to the character (and which is fortunately equally true of Tennant (unconventionally pretty), and Smith (‘Edward Tardishands’)). I should be grateful a leather jacket was as great a concession they made to accessibility.

Eccleston’s Doctor is also childish to the point of vindictive, but I like that he’s not perfect – what does annoy me though are the moments of forced ‘zaniness’; his ‘idiot savant’ routine, which doesn’t seem to come naturally at all (and even if this is deliberate, I still don’t like the effect it gives). Playing it straight, he’s great, so he’s not too bad here (though his anger and survivor guilt obviously comes out most in Dalek). This mostly harder portrayal of the Doctor makes the Eighth, by contrast, feel overly idealised and a bit wishy-washy. In fact, I know that Lawrence Miles considers, compared to the Ninth Doctor – introduced blowing up a department store – the nice, romantic, handsome Eighth Doctor feels like a total gyp.

Overall, it’s funny how old-school this feels (a bovver boy Doctor notwithstanding) – which is quite reassuring; with a bit of distance, it’s easy to really see that, where the TVM does feels like a different beast, this is unavoidably the same series, just given a lick of fresh paint. I even kept expecting cliffhangers (“‘That thing,’ as you put it, is in charge of the human race” – cue music!). (Visually, it doesn’t even look that much better than a lot of vintage Doctor Who; CG, film quality, and editing distinguishes it, but as it’s costumes and sets that are the more obvious, this doesn’t create such a leap as it might seem it should.) Having said that, looking back in a few more years’ time, this will equally appear very much of its time (well, I suppose most things tend to be); it’s accessible and easy to grasp, but with a veneer of voguish ‘darkness’ (just look at The Dark Knight or Watchmen).

A decision of the current production team which is very ‘now’ (being so desperate not to turn people off with anything not quite obvious enough), which I get, but don’t really like, is the contemporary-clothes-in-the-far-future approach. Yes, it avoids pyjamas and silver jumpsuits, but (say) Blade Runner-like ethnic diversity would be far more interesting and memorable (there are some weird haircuts here, but it’s mainly Next T-shirts).

More understandable (and humanising) is Davies’ trademark focus on real peoples’ lives (or lower-middle-class fixation, depending on how charitable you want to be), even in such a far-flung future. However, I can’t help feel the Editor’s rant about humanity rings worryingly true: "Strutting about all over the surface of the earth, like they’re so individual – when of course they’re not; they’re just cattle."

This is probably the most positive I’ve ever felt about the Ninth Doctor – but suddenly, it works. A harder, black-clad, no-frills Doctor (literally); I get it now. After the event, this suddenly seems quite an attractive concept. And at least these characteristics are addressed thematically/fictively (he’s like this due to the Time War), and the hard-wearing, no-nonsense clothing reflects his personality, so doesn’t appear an arbitrary choice (unlike, say, the Sixth Doctor’s costume).

The Long Game isn’t a exceptional story, by any means, but it is pretty representative of the new series’ take on the show, and, even given its cons, I’d so much rather take this over the reverential (but just… wrong) TVM. Immediately, even a ‘lesser’ story like this makes so much more sense than the TVM. This is recognisably Doctor Who – not especially in relation to a given era, but like a distillation of the public’s expectations; it’s big, brash, bold, set on a space station, has humour, action, emotion, monsters and possession, and an old-school villain. I may not like every element of Russell T Davies’ approach, but at least it has some notable imagination and idiosyncrasy.

"Beau Brummel always said I looked better in a cloak…"

ON THE DOCTORS' COSTUMES

I can’t say I’m desperately well-dressed, but I do like clothes, and therefore I like that the Doctor likes clothes. It’s unsurprising clothes are important to the character; given his variants, it’s natural that the outfits he wears define and differentiate his incarnations.

I’m not aware of any major discussion of the Doctors’ costumes, but as a visually-minded person I tend to notice elements of ‘visual continuity’ as much as I do the regular kind. It’s not ordinarily something I’d think about in a conscious way, but I can’t help inadvertently mentally cataloguing Hartnell’s different cravats or Colin’s waistcoats – it’s just part of the way my minds works, so it’s an aspect of the character I find interesting. What’s really got me thinking about clothes is Matt Smith’s costume. At first, I was immediately relieved that something old fashioned had been chosen (as opposed to, say, a ‘yoof’ hoodie uniform or regulation-trendy skinny jeans) – the Doctor’s costume has always been such a signifier of his unconventionality that I still feel cheated by Eccleston’s outfit.

Since it was initially revealed, it’s become more and more apparent how trendy Smith’s costume is – but I don’t think it really matters. It’s fashionable in terms of a specific Topman/i-D demographic, so in fact it’s quite clever of the production team to have smuggled in an ‘old fashioned’ costume under the auspices of what is currently fashionable. I imagine the ‘old fashionedness’ will outlast the trendiness; in future, people’ll probably only see its student/professor contrast, rather than the preppy/tweedy trends it’s derived from.

It is strange how very ‘on-trend’ it is; the All Saints work boots, the jacket, the bowtie – you can’t get away from models dressed exactly like that in every magazine going. In fact, when the costume was released, The Guardian (yes, yes, I’m such a bleeding heart liberal; it’s okay, I didn’t buy it) did a little satirical piece introduced with the line ‘Here is the latest Burberry model…,’ going on to cite the look’s overall trendiness – or rather, berate the costume designers for such blatant box-ticking, saying that the Doctor should be above such things (a concern I find pretty funny coming from a mainstream newspaper).

As I say, the costume will likely become so ubiquitous it’ll surpass the styles it’s mirroring (it already feels very familiar), though I am ambivalent about the decision to make it so close to current trends. (As opposed to, say, the Fifth Doctor’s outfit alluding to the 80s Brideshead thing, rather than completely lifting a style.) It does make it harder to judge objectively, too; I really like it, but is that partly because it’s fashionable, you’re exposed to similar things everywhere at the moment, so it just seems ‘right’? No matter, in purely DW terms, it works – the fusty tweediness, yes; the boots have a good strong Pertwee/Tom precedent, but, being laced, are also different enough, and give the whole thing a bit of edge, contrasting with the Troughton-like bowtie (sort of skinhead-cum-academian). Nice range of textures, too – presumably a high definition consideration, or am I reading too much into this?! Good to see something other than a white shirt, anyway. (Hilariously, The Sun (and, no, I definitely didn’t buy that) did an spread rather desperately trying to make out that the costume includes elements of every single of the previous Doctors’ outfits, including the Seventh Doctor’s white shirt (which is hardly a defining element of his look anyway)… Even though Smith’s is clearly not white in the picture they’d published. Ah, The Sun. Bastion of accuracy.)

I love the Doctors’ costumes, actually – all of them. I’m really pleased that the Eleventh Doctor’s been given a look – potential Hoxton wankerishness aside – that chimes with his predecessors’ eccentricities rather more than the Ninth or Tenth do. The way the Doctor dresses really does mean such a lot within the programme, as shorthand for his ‘otherness,’ not just as an alien, but as a TV hero. With the exception of the Ninth’s, each costume very plainly states that this isn’t a character who’s going to function in exactly the way you’d expect.

The First Doctor’s outfit is, rightly, the most straightforward, and, although it’s easy to consider them broadly similar (check trousers, black jacket) the Second’s is a deceptively clever variation on it. It manages to be an anarchic subversion of the original ‘Edwardian’ silhouette, whilst also maintaining enough continuity to not be alienating. Similarly, the Third Doctor’s initial, season seven costume is another fairly minor twist on the same basic approach (interesting though that Pertwee favoured a plain Nehru jacket) – still Edwardian, black jacket, just dressier, with the addition of an opera cape. Capes are fab; all kudos to Pertwee for pulling that look off. Especially in his later costumes, when he obviously had the run of the costume department, he should look awful (coloured ruffled shirts, velvet jackets, AND checked Inverness cloaks?!), but he does actually look pretty cool.

In fact, it’s impressive that somehow he avoids looking like a total ponce, perhaps because he’s often quite dour and plays the role very straight. I guess, to an extent, his style is akin to Matt Smith’s in that it chimes with general tendencies of the period – frills and velvet and so on. (At least he avoided flares.) I’m not sure about the bouffant (although at least it’s kind of unique and doesn’t date as readily as other contemporaneous 70s dos; the 70s did no-one any favours), but I’d like to be able to stride around like that when I’m 55. (Martial arts might also be a bonus, then.)

Of these costumes, it’s the little variations that I particularly like (something there’s been less and less of as the marketing of the show has become more controlled and canny); for example, I really like the white version of the First Doctor’s astrakhan hat, and his Panama, and he looks particularly great when he wears his cloak and little wire-framed glasses (like the Fifth and Tenth Doctors in their brainy specs). I must also be one of the few people who actually loves the Second Doctor’s early ‘stovepipe’ hat (or, more accurately, according to DWM, a Paris Beau, Capotain, or bird-catcher’s hat – not as catchy, though), partly because of its bizarreness, but probably also as it was so short-lived and only few picture exist of it (perhaps I’d be less keen if it had become totally ubiquitous). Even tiny variations like the Second Doctor’s fur coat or cloak, down to his woolly hat in Fury from the Deep, are representative of the series’ earlier off-the-cuff production, in a way that wouldn’t really happen later on.

The Fourth Doctor’s various costumes are odd, really, because no-one looks beyond his almost cartoon-like features, hat, and scarf; the costume itself just isn’t that defining – consider, no-one ever really describes him as being Victorian in appearance, even though during season thirteen, that’s exactly what his outfit is like. I’m not so keen on the initial short jacket, though I love his cardigan and straggling necktie. Baker’s costume is great in terms of its variability; it gives the character a richness, not to mention a realism, and, pleasingly, especially early on, really looks like he’s been raiding a charity shop. Lots of detail too – cravats, neckties, the TARDIS key as a pendant, high waisted trousers, different hats and coats. Lovely. I’m less keen on the simpler coat and open-necked shirt of seasons sixteen and seventeen, but the variation is nice.

I’m also a big fan (again, one of few?) of his stylised season eighteen look – interesting though that John Nathan-Turner initially wanted a completely new look; wonder what they were considering? It is fairly ridiculous – and take it as read that the question marks are hideous – but it works as a reinvention of an existing look. The massiveness of the Russian army-style greatcoat looks great on Tom (nice green patterned lining, too!), and the red shoes and argyle socks/burgundy boots is a nice variation.

The Fifth Doctor’s costume, on the other hand, I absolutely loathe, for a variety of reasons. More so even than the Sixth’s. It’s the first time a Doctor wears a single unchanging costume, which is just a terrible idea (at least Tennant’s, though essentially the same, has some variation). I’m not sold on the ‘sporting motif’ thing anyway (a polo outfit would’ve been better), but it’s so flimsy and badly made (especially those pyjama bottoms! And the jacket doesn’t even appear to be lined); the whole thing looks like a fancy dress version, not the real thing! Actually, having said that, purely from the point of view of the design, it works (in the DWM strip it’s quite effective). It’s just that in practise the red and beige is horrible, and as an Edwardian cricketing outfit, it’s so patently inaccurate; I hate that it’s someone’s contrived idea of that concept (a frock coat… with a cricket jumper), when they could have done some research and put him in a more believable jumper and stripy blazer combo. His Panama hat is quite good though – if underused. The high-waisted trousers, shirtsleeves and braces look of Planet of Fire is an improvement, too.

I really do think the Fifth Doctor’s outfit trumps the Sixth’s as worst ever. The Sixth's, I’ve come to like if you view it as a magician’s outfit, and in its brashness creates a nice tension with Colin Baker’s difficult persona. In fact, I like it more the more ridiculous it gets (ie, the starry necktie/metallic purple-striped waistcoat combo from Terror of the Vervoids). The problem with it, though a little more substantial-looking than its predecessor, is it’s so obviously a designed whole, like it was bought as an off-the-peg outfit. If it looked like various thrown-together items, that’d at least make more sense.

The other thing is that no-one ever reacts realistically to it. In a physical sense, there’s no reason why he couldn’t turn up in The Godfather or a kitchen sink kind of scenario in his patchwork coat – as long as people reacted realistically to it. Personally, I think that’d make it easier to swallow; as it is, with most incidental characters not even mentioning it, it damages suspension of belief – it feels like the show is being dishonest to us. Even if it happened everywhere he went (which actually couldn’t be a worse running gag than series four’s, ‘We’re not married!’), at least that’d add a veneer of realism, knowing that the people he meets are thinking the same as the audience. In fairness, it is probably true of all the Doctors’ outfits that people seldom react realistically to them, but this is most apparent when it comes to the Sixth. It does seem the production team realised it didn’t function in a realistic sense, but then shot themselves in the foot by trying to ignore that, rather than acknowledge it. (…His cloak in Revelation looks great though.)

I know a lot of people dislike the Seventh Doctor’s costume, too, but I have quite a soft spot for it, perhaps cos I find the pullover a lot easier to ignore than the shirt collar question marks (although, coincidentally, I did just come across a load of rehearsal photos from Ghost Light where McCoy is without the jumper and it does look a billion times better). It’s a bit too bright and light to start with, but I do like how genuinely dishevelled it is. Interesting too that it’s much later than any of the others – I wonder if this was commented on at the time? It’s quite thirties in style, and the tie, as opposed to cravat or bowtie, is quite modern. I read that it was meant to look normal from a distance and then stranger close up, which I think works – the paisley overload, lapel watch, etc. And how cool are the two-tone brogues? His TVM costume is interesting as a variation, though I agree with what McCoy said at the time about it being ‘an American idea of an English gentleman’. I prefer his white linen suit from the NAs though; it bugs me that we’ll never get to see that in real life. The godawful montaged effort on the cover of The Shadow of the Scourge audio doesn’t count.

As for the Eighth Doctor: there really isn’t much to say. A lazy Edwardian default, but made a bit Byronic, to mix in some sex appeal. Fine, whatever. The Ninth, however: as I say, I’m ambivalent. As a one-off, I like it for how unusual it is, I’m just glad it didn’t set a precedent. Now we’ve had a suited Doctor and are about to get a tweed-clad one at least the Ninth’s leather has become a variation rather than a new precedent for 'modern' Doctors’ outfits. It does sort of work – the hard-wearing traveller thing – but I just wish he wore a shirt or sailor jumper (and completed the U-boat captain look) rather than those horrible Next tops. I suppose at least they avoided the frock coat silhouette – unlike the TVM – which there has been far too much of up to this point, to the extent that it’s become a shorthand default for the Doctor’s eccentricity, and as such, stopped meaning anything (cf any spoof you care to mention, and David Morrissey’s ‘next’ Doctor outfit – which made it immediately apparent that he wasn’t a real Doctor, as it’s just too by-numbers).

The Tenth is a bit Next too. Bad times. I remember being so relieved when pictures of his costume were released, but now it does seem rather banal and safe – and not just through overexposure. Apart from anything else, the world and his wife wear Converse All-Stars! Probably up to and including Amazonian Indians. They just don’t have the hip edge they’re presumably meant to inject. Also, like the Fifth and Sixth Doctors’ it looks a bit too obviously run up by the costume department, rather than being a real tailored suit (and coat). The coat I kind of like, but is a bit too contrivedly ‘iconic’; long, for flapping in dramatic breezes, etc…

I don’t know quite what to feel about the blue suit either. I tend to like the atypical variations, so there’s something to be said for it for that reason, but – though it’s unusual, again that feels like a slightly cynical stab at automatic ‘Doctorishness’. It’s a bit too bright. In fact, Tennant’s just a bit too clean and perfect, really. Bit too modern. Especially his hair; trying a bit too hard to be cool. At least Smith’s hair is kind of inexplicable already, so it can’t really date. (On the subject of hair, Troughton wins hands-down for coolest do – though Hartnell’s wig is pretty inspired, as it’s the most atypical element of his costume as a whole.)

I sort of wish they’d made more of the ‘punk with a hint of rockabilly’ thing from Tooth and Claw, given the Tenth Doctor a bit more edge (what, Elvis quiff, signet rings, tattoos, eyeliner?). Having said that, his quiff in The Idiot’s Lantern looked a bit rubbish. Edginess isn’t something you could really say comes naturally to David Tennant.

So, what have we learnt? I’m not sure. But I enjoyed talking about it! While I’m at it, I always see costumes in films that make me think, Aha, that’d be great for a (hypothetical) Doctor: particularly Toshiro Mifune’s white suit and flat cap in Kurosawa’s Stray Dog; the short, 1930s wide-shouldered checked jackets from Brighton Rock; James Dean’s simple jumper and chinos with a watch on his trousers from East of Eden (which is strangely iconic); or even Paterson Joseph’s steampunk gentlemen from the BBC’s Neverwhere, with half-bleached and half-dreaded hair. That’d be a bit of a departure, but it’d be ace. Think of how many numerous options for doing something unprecedented there are. Better still, regenerate him into a woman and let the fun really begin!