Blink

Originally transmitted 9th June 2007

The serious amount of hype from the production team for this episode originally served to be its undoing for me. No episode could have lived up to the 'scariest episode yet' tag and completely fulfilled the brief of being 'Doctor-Lite'. At the time I thought it was a good episode, where expectations for it to perform were unfeasibly high, but I do think it suffered from the lack of the Doctor and Martha dynamic and relied on surrogate companions that you needed more time with to develop the necessary emotional connections. Now, having seen it several times I think it's crept up on me, like one of the stone angels, and quietly won me over.

If you look at 'Love And Monsters' from 2006, which was also fulfilling the same brief, it connected not just to the Doctor and Rose but also to the supporting characters and environs that Rose brought to the series. There was a direct connection to Jackie, to the estate and to events past with the flashbacks to the Autons, the Slitheen and the Sycorax. In 'Blink' I think the hardest thing I struggled with was this lack of connection - perhaps it should have featured Tish or connected more to the locations and spaces in which the Jones family operate? Instead, the episode introduced us to a set of new companions.

It had a water-tight 'time travel' plot full of conundrums, something which Moffat always excells at, and some very witty lines which again he's good at, particularly his jibe at the nit-pickers of the on-line community with the 'wrong size windows' line where the police officer is describing the TARDIS to Sally, the penchants of drama commissioners at ITV with the 'Sparrow and Nightingale' gag ('Rosemary and Thyme', take a bow) and the effects of a 'timey-wimey' detection device on hens - that would be a sight to see!

The triumph of the episode certainly lay in its desire to scare the living daylights out of its younger audience. With this in mind, 'Blink' connected directly to classic television scares such as 'Sapphire & Steel', 'Children Of The Stones' and 'Escape Into Night'. You could also connect this to 'Ghost Light' another Doctor Who story set in a strange old house. I am grateful that Moffat is bringing this kind of unsettling drama to a 21st Century child audience. And the idea of 'quantum lock' as a way that the angels manifested themselves took us into 'Schroedinger's Cat' territory too.

Children need to understand their fears and healthy scares are few and far between in today's 'cotton wool' television landscape. His concept of alien angels killing people by trapping them in the past and then feeding off the energy released was a beguiling one. Their predatory nature keyed in with the 'dare to scare' potential of children's playground games and it's the episode's ability to understand the psychology of of those games that provided the highlight for me. The most significant scene was certainly where Sally and Larry are trying to get into the TARDIS - you have double jeopardy from the advancing angels, brilliantly caught in those rapid cuts by director Hettie MacDonald, and the imminent demise of the lightbulb. What could be worse? - horrible things creeping up on you [I]and[/I] fear of the dark.

Sally Sparrow (another Moffat connection to last year's Doctor Who annual) was a likeable enough character, although I do think she took an awful lot in her stride to come across as entirely believable, and it's unfair to use her as a stick with which to beat Martha which seems to have been the tendency from other reviewers. I didn't feel as solidly connected to her as I did to Elton in 'Love And Monsters' and I put that down to too little emotional development and where Moffat did try to do this, it seemed a little forced because it hadn't been paid enough attention to during the rest of the story. Up until the final act of the episode, the pacing and development was a little slow and often padded but Carey Mulligan's central performance as determined yet vulnerable Sally did hold it together. My view hasn't changed dramatically but my appreciation for Mulligan's acting is certainly higher than it was.

Hettie MacDonald also contributed some very atmospheric direction and editing, with the decaying house and its overgrown gardens populated by the observing angels providing potent images for young nightmares. The shots of the angels looking out of the windows of the old house, the backlit shot of Sally in the empty hospital ward and the quick cutting as the angels closed in were elements to be savoured. More women directors please!

It's difficult to comment on Tennant and Agyeman because obviously they're not in it very much at all but I did like the idea of having their presence strung through the story as an easter egg on a series of DVDs. It's a novel way of getting round the situation and the brief. The weakest performance was from Michael Obiora as the detective Billy. I'm afraid he didn't convince me that he was a detective. And I wasn't entirely sure the sub-plot about Kathy re-starting her life in 1920 actually came off and again I put that down to trying to keep a complex, logical plot together to the detriment of our emotional investment in these characters.

Overall a very good episode that like 'Love And Monsters' finds the virtues of not having the Doctor and his companion as the focus of the story and therefore has an opportunity to approach the universe that the series inhabits from a very different point of view. It's refreshing that the series can continue to do this and I would certainly be delighted to see the Weeping Angels in a return match with the Doctor himself and a cameo for Sally in a future episode. It does not match 'Love And Monsters' for me on an emotional level but it surpasses it simply as a chilling tale. It doesn't have the same emotional connection that the characters, and by implication the audience, had with the Doctor's universe. And certainly Moffat's 'The Girl In The Fireplace' remains his best contribution to the series thus far but 'Blink' runs it a very close second.

BBC4 - 26th March 2008 - 9.00pm

The second of BBC4's 'Curse Of Comedy' dramas. You could argue that these dramas are pretty much cashing in on that well worn cliche about 'the tears of a clown' but I would argue, especially here with 'Hancock And Joan', it's important to remember that all our heroes are flawed and do the pretty awful things that humans do, often bringing others into their dark orbit as a result.

Hancock was a genius, for sure, but his attempt to be a genius 24/7 and to be himself led to divorces and severe alcoholism. This drama shows him to be both captivating and monstrous and often both at the same time. His affair with Joan Le Mesurier is presented in this rather elegantly directed piece as both heart wrenchingly sad and frighteningly raw. Ken Stott plays Hancock, post Galton & Simpson and just about to undertake his Royal Festival Hall gig. Stott is not my first idea of an actor who could play this role and I admit that I found the performance difficult to get into and as is sometimes the case with biographical drama you want the actors to look like and sound like the person they are portraying. I couldn't quite equate Stott with Hancock but that eventually didn't matter as he thoroughly persuaded me with a very complex performance. And he did get some very uncanny facial mannerisms and expressions into the role that captured the Hancock physicality. Stott convinced me and provided a Hancock of contradictions; one minute suffering from stage-fright, the next a very nasty drunk, an emotionally needy, fragile ego and then a self-centred and often pretentious clod.

Granted we didn't see the Hancock of the 'Half Hours', unlike the sequences in 'The Curse Of Steptoe', to remind us why we love Tony Hancock, why we find him funny. Rather we saw him try and take control of his career, thinking he could do it all himself, and fall flat on his arse. But rather than pick himself up, he just opened another bottle. The affair with Joan, played superbly by Maxine Peake, opens the depressing narrative out and the centre of the drama is a much happier affair and shows a relaxed Hancock at the seaside, a very funny encounter with a land-lady and some tender scenes with Joan' son. This is light relief compared to the most harrowing bit of drama I've seen in a while. As Hancock gets drunker, Joan feels the only way to cope with him is to try and match him drink for drink. Peake and Stott challenge each other and wring the utter sadness and desperation out of the scene that begins with her downing a full bottle of brandy in competition with him and ends with Joan crawling off in despair to commit suicide and Hancock passing out, uncaringly, on the floor.

Alex Jennings provides gentle support as John Le Mesurier who gets the man's physicality to a tee. Mesurier is described as a patient, compassionate soul who tries to understand the affair and is prepared to take Joan back once Hancock spirals out of control. He shows Mesurier as a loving friend who accepts the affair stoically but knows that it can only end in tragedy. In the end, forget this is about Hancock and simply watch this as a play about human frailty and about a woman who briefly brings a little happiness and stability into a sad, middle-aged man's life. He's deeply frustrated, very fragile and Stott pulls this off with great skill and success and yet makes him sympathetic despite his hideousness. Peake also manages to convey Joan's determination to help Hancock as any fellow human being would possibly want to do through a simple act of kindness and love.

He's so fragile that in the end he believes Joan has returned to John when in fact the drama tells us that a journalist has cornered her and she's been forced to say something, family members are interfering and letters get stuck in postal strikes. Like a surreal version of Romeo And Juliet where fate contrives against the lead characters, Hancock, thinking the affair and his life is over, is shown in a bizarre embrace with his alter-ego as he goes through his death throes in a hotel in Australia. Director Richard Laxton and writer Richard Cottan weave a fascinating tale of a comedy genius struggling to find his muse and, more importantly, himself and a woman who is prepared to go through hell to try and help him in his task. They cleverly evoke the period and offer recreations of the Festival Hall gig, the dreadful shows he did for ABC and the hope of a new career in Australia.

Devastating, raw, harrowing and compelling.

BBC1 - 27th March 2008 - 9.00pm

'You look like a baboon's arse with a tash stuck on it.'

'Unbreakable, Bolly, unbreakable.'

'I'm everywhere Bolly. When I'm needed, I'm there.'

A rollercoaster ride to conclude a quite smashing series. Granted, the series got off to a slightly wobbly start but soon got into its stride and from episode four onwards just kept getting better and better. This final episode manages to keep a number of plot threads and themes going and many of these come to an amazing conclusion in the last 20 minutes where director Jonny Campbell skillfully puts all the pieces together from Alex's memories and delivers a tour de force of raw emotion and revelation. His use of speeding up video tape effects, which have been a trademark of the flashbacks to the car bomb explosion have a resonance here with Tim Price's last, devastating video message.

There are a number of concepts to keep the eagle eyed amongst us intrigued too and I'll get to those in a mo. However, it's also gratifying to see several threads continuing with this episode. The question of Ray's sexuality is again hinted at with his overt and befuddled homophobia towards Tom Robinson's 'Glad To Be Gay' song and Chris' amusing remark that most of the gay protestors he shared his cell with 'all looked like you, Ray'. Chris' spell as an inmate to bluff Lord Scarman's visit also continues the theme about masculinity and male power which spills over into the Gene Hunt and Evan White characters. It is arguably male power that both kills Alex's parents and simultaneously rescues her from the car bomb. This also underlines the importance of the clown/Tim Price figure and how Alex only finds redemption with her mother and rejection from her father.

That final scene between Keeley Hawes and Amelia Bullimore was superbly played, highly emotional and so very tragic when you understand that one of the ideas here is that it is Alex herself that causes the death of her own parents. She does everything to prevent an event but instead invokes deja vu. She gets shot by Layton and arrives in '1981'; attempts to return to 2008 by saving her parents, and in the course of doing so discovers the Evan/Caroline affair; she talks to Caroline so much about Molly and how the mother/daughter relationship is important that she makes Caroline realise she should spend more time with young Alex; Caroline decides to take young Alex on a trip to 'bond' with her; the trip is the catalyst for the car-bomb set off by Tim and possibly linked to Evan. Alex is the reason why they die in the end. However, as this is allegedly going on in her head then Alex may just simply be projecting this scenario onto her vague memories.

And if this is still going on in her head then where does that leave Gene? From the evidence here, in that beautiful reveal on the hillside, Gene rescues young Alex and pulls her away from the explosion. Is Gene therefore real? Does this and the scene of Gene carrying young Alex into the police station substantiate the very same scene, shot for shot, in the first episode when Gene carries the adult, protesting Alex ('I don't want to go in there!') into the same station? Or is she simply projecting her knowledge of Gene onto the situation? If Gene is real then it means he's possibly alive in the present day or she has in fact time-travelled. I never considered either 'Life On Mars' or 'Ashes' to be about time travel (a frequent mistake made by less understanding reviewers) and certainly 'Ashes' has a more religious theme, rather than a time paradox, mixed in with the coma/near-death subconscious dialogue. Gene's 'I'm there when I'm needed' line sounds very god-like and the last scene in the restaurant uncannily looks like The Last Supper. Equally, Shaz positions Alex as a Guardian Angel and this echoes the Gene as angel watching over Alex motif that's run through the series. So not time travel then...more like mind travel. Add to this some subtle reminders that Alex is waking up in 2008, similar to the dripping water scenes in the last episode, wher do see a brief shot of her face and here the sound of water and Layton's threats.

A nailbiting, gripping last half subverts the comedy capers with Scarman and Chris in the cells, which is brought to a climax with Gene's brilliant, rousing call to arms. He loves his job, his station and his men (and women) and he'll no doubt have to keep defending them. In the meantime we got the lovely gags about the trophy cabinet, solving crimes before they happen and 'care in the community'. We then are plunged into a frantic bid by Alex to prevent the death of her parents and return to 2008. It's gut-wrenching when it goes wrong, so thoroughly disturbing when Tim metamorphoses into the Clown Of Death, and Alex is on her knees howling in anguish after a fiery explosion that's eerily silent. Quite stunning television and a blaze of visual imagery that elevates that devastation to poetry.

Glenister and Hawes are once again sublime. Hawes raw and emotional in that sad little scene with Bullimore and during the car-bomb climax and then introspective and sympathetic to Gene in the dinner scene, Glenister forthright and then so subtle in that coda at the dinner table. They are certainly not playing Gene and Alex as pastiches, they are playing them as real. Dean Andrews and Marshall Lancaster provide the great gags but also Andrews also shows off some very subtle acting here too. Plus a great cameo from the ever superb Geoffrey Palmer as Scarman.

So where next? Evan is complicit in the Prices deaths, Layton is out on release, Gene might be real, the Artemis file is still in Gene's drawer, the Clown of Death still wants Alex to join his incomplete family...plenty to chew on for the second series. Roll on 2009.

Episode Seven review
Episode Six review
Episode Five review
Episode Four review
Episode Three review
Episode Two review
Episode One review

Human Nature

Originally transmitted 26th May 2007

It's a pleasure to be able to say that with Paul Cornell's 'Human Nature' that Series Three has at last given us its benchmark episode despite the fact that we've got another five to go! This was a sublime piece of television drama and a brilliant synthesis of the original novel's theme and plot and the Russell T. Davies game-plan for the new series.

OK. Let's get the wonderful references sorted out. For me, it was a lovely mix of Delderfield's 'To Serve Them All My Days', Lindsay Anderson's 'If?' (particularly the machine-gun training) and Cameron-Menzies 'Invaders From Mars' (invasion by possession seen through the eyes of a young boy) and once again the production team here excelled with the period setting. There was a beautiful, and yet sombre, autumnal feel to the episode that evoked the mood of pre-war England. Like two of the references mentioned above, it thematically explored the nature of Englishness, to quote Michael Bracewell 'where the rebels in England's Arcadia are defending the values that they love, passionately, from what they recognise as abuse at the hands of self-serving tyrants and their occupying armies'. I'm reading H.G Wells' 'War Of The Worlds' at the moment and the parallels in this episode, in both evoking the period and playing out of themes, are also striking.

According to Bracewell, nostalgia is the very fulcrum of the English national and cultural psyche: nostalgia for some kind of lost 'idealised past' - an Arcadian wonderworld. As the Doctor hides out as 'John Smith' in the pastoral confines of that typical symbol of Englishness, the public school, he dreams of and makes notes about his other selves, that time-travelling rebel, that alternative life caught in nostalgic flashbacks and scrapbooks. And to add to this nostalgic riff, the episode name-checks Sydney Newman and Verity Lambert as John Smith's (and by extension the series) parents, Rose (again), and showcases that other English (and the Doctor's) obsession: cricket. That the episode could wind these references so delicately into the story without knocking over the whole house of cards is testament to the care that's gone into crafting this superb story.

The episode cleverly touched on the inevitable tragedy of the First World War, in essence the destruction of Arcadia, with Latimer's flash forwards and the 'great shadow falling across the land' as dialogue represented by the hugely symbolic scene of the piano falling into the street and about to literally crush one of the flowers of England. Fortunately, there was a good bowler nearby.

The three people in the 'marriage' at the heart of 'Human Nature': John Smith, Martha and Joan are all classic symbols of the triad, the three -- spirit, soul and flesh, Father, Mother and Child, purgative, illuminative and unitive. The John Smith/Doctor schism not only touches upon Christ's 'I am way, the truth, the life' but also the reverse of that symbolism in the consequences of the sin and lust of human nature. It's all very beautifully played by the three leads with Tennant managing to completely remove the ticks and affectations of his usual performance of the Doctor to give us a nervous, repressed English school master capable of handing out punishments to young Latimer; Agyeman providing a Martha of great depth, saying much about her feelings through expressions and reactions than through speech and certainly I hope finally silencing the naysayers; and Jessica Hynes' Joan as the perfect foil for John Smith, as a sympathetic, warm and completely 'human' human being. The romance between the two is finely played and doesn't descend into sentimentality.

They were supported quite wonderfully by Harry Lloyd, as Jeremy Baines, whose possession by the Family, (the anti-Father, Mother and Child in the story), was much determined by an eerie performance. For me, it was Thomas Sangster as Tim Latimer who sneaked in and stole the supporting honours. He managed to convey a young man, troubled by his growing abilities, wiser and older than he should be. In effect, he was a younger John Smith, hiding out in the school for fear of being discovered as one of the rebels defending Arcadia.

Charles Palmer, the director, is a real discovery. He captured an England in autumnal fugue with a David Lean touch, framing sterling performances from his cast in long shots of the countryside. And I do hope his first shot of the scarecrow moving its arm was an homage to 'The Singing Detective'. And a word of praise for Murray Gold's score with a stunning passage of music as Martha returns to the TARDIS and recalls the incidents that brought her to 1913 and tries to find some comfort in the Doctor's message. Very beautiful string sections kept underlying her growing fear and frustration in the scene.

Overall, the best episode so far this year and certainly on a par with 'The Empty Child' and 'The Girl In The Fireplace' and we have the second part yet to come. If 'Family Of Blood' is half as good as this then I can confidently say we've got another classic to add to the list.




The Family Of Blood

Originally transmitted 2nd June 2007

'We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.'
-- John McCrae

It's really quite difficult to sum this episode up without laying on the superlatives. As with the first part of this story, 'Family' is beautifully written, acted and shot with meticulous period detail and again comes with a fantastic score from Murray Gold. It is a fine piece of television whether it is 'Doctor Who' or not.

The writer, Paul Cornell, should be applauded for his very dark and complex discussion of the Doctor's essential nature and character and one that questions his moral choices, his singular raison d'etre and his humanity. Whilst doing this, the episode also seeks to deal with sin and redemption, masculinity and madness that connects us to Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress', Elliot's 'The Waste Land', Scorsese's 'Last Temptation Of Christ' and some of the themes in Pat Barker's 'Regeneration'.

The engine that keeps this lot moving along and prevents it all from becoming overly sentimental is David Tennant. These two episodes have allowed us to see a version of the Doctor that has, temporarily at least, stripped away the Time Lord's god-like powers. He has become John Smith, the everyman schoolteacher whose encounter with aliens is richly symbolic of the dilemma many men were faced with at the outbreak of war in 1914. He's seen what violence can do and he recognises that he's preparing children for a conflict they can never hope to survive. Realising this, he is the only one who doesn't fire in that encounter with the scarecrows as the boys wipe away their tears of terror and fear. John Smith is the human the Doctor aspires to be.

But Cornell's John Smith is faced with a choice between suicide or the subjugation of the Earth and countless other worlds by the Family. Tennant stunningly and completely captures the poor man's fear, exasperation and denial as he wrestles with his conscience. And knowing he must make this choice, he joins the sleep of the dead both physically and spiritually as played out in the trenches and the epilogue's Remembrance service.

Hammering this home is the final encounter between Joan and the restored Doctor. The Doctor is so 'alien' here in thinking he can simply carry on where Smith left off in the relationship. Joan can read him like a book, like the very journal she weeps over in the conclusion. She understands the dark nature of the Doctor and throws it back in his face. The allusion is to the sexual wounding of the Fisher King in Arthurian legend and the sympathetic sterility of his lands that is caused. Wherever the Doctor goes, as the lonely God he is, death follows, lives are shattered. She knows that the Doctor can never have what John Smith would have had with her and she rejects him, denies him as Peter denied Christ in the garden of Gethsemane.

Jessica Hynes and Tennant are quite amazing in those scenes, adding a heart tugging depth to the dilemma. And I loved Joan's questioning of Martha's role in the Doctor's life. Freema was again on great form and she captured that 'Martha's had the rug pulled our from under her' moment with great skill. How can you sum up what being with the Doctor is like when he's become this totally deniable alien figure to Joan?

Cornell's brave questioning of the true purpose of the Doctor; his capacity for cold revenge whilst also setting in motion the long game of Tim Latimer's survival is at the heart of the episode too. He's a mass of contradictions, at once horribly, cruelly dangerous and then quietly saving Latimer's life and remembering that generation's sacrifice in the trenches. Where the poppy is symbolic of the sleep of forgetfulness, then perhaps the Doctor is seeking the salve for his literal interpretation of the Family's desire for longevity and the death of John Smith.

And also at the centre of the narrative is time itself with the various flash forwards from the possession of that watch. The watch narrates both human time, as in Smith's vision of marriage, birth and death and Latimer's fate, and divine time where we have the summation of Time Lord experience and the visions of destruction and evil. Both the finite and the infinite described by that one object. Time is seen as 'the watchful deadly foe, the enemy that gnaws at our hearts' to paraphrase Baudelaire. Certainly, time comes full circle for the Family as they all end up suspended in their own personal and endless hell. It is also ironic that Son Of Mine is reduced to becoming one of his own scarecrow soldiers.

Praise must also go to Harry Lloyd as the serpentine Baines/Son Of Mine and Rebekah Staten as the equally repellent Mother Of Mine both of whom brought such a vivid wickedness to the presentation of the Family. And once again Thomas Sangster was great as Latimer, a proto-Doctor figure if ever there was one.

A sublime achievement from director Charles Palmer too, despite the pacing being slightly off for the opening ten minutes, and who evoked the bittersweet nature of sacrifice and redemption to which Latimer and Smith were irrevocably married. His use of slow motion and cross fades added a further visual dimension to an already lovely looking episode.

Magnificent.

BBC3 - 21st March 2008 - 10.00pm

Slickly made, I'll give you that. But it's a house of cards with plot contrivance layered on circumstance layered on coincidence. It's very 'Buffy' to have all your characters to go into flashback mode and present to the viewer the turning point in their lives that leads all of them to their present situation. Trouble is, where 'Buffy' does this kind of thing it's usually underpinned by an emotionally significant plot that intersects with the flashbacks and gives them great resonance, 'Fragments' was just that...fragments. As disconnected as the bits of rubble so decorously placed on our heroes as they get caught in a series of exploding bombs. They should all have been torn to bits considering their proximity to the blasts so realism goes straight out of the window for a start as the team lies there and casts their minds back to the day they eventually joined this piss-poor organisation.

So we see Jack (who dies in the explosion and yet still has a flashback) with a natty cape and sideburns get caught up in the machinations of two Victorian lesbians running the turn of the century version of Torchwood, complete with name-dropping of the Doctor. It's good to see how Jack got back to Cardiff and got involved and how this progresses through to 1999 but it doesn't connect to anything going on in the present day. And it's nice we find out why Owen was such a **** in Series 1 but why would he join up with a man who effectively has just carted off his fiancee's brain and made everyone else forget about the alien crawling around in her head? Devasting as it is for him, it just feels like writer Chris Chibnall is making this up as we watch it.

The backstory for Tosh isn't much better either. She's an industrial spy just for mummy's sake and then she ends up in UNIT's version of Guantanamo Bay to teach her a lesson. And when did UNIT get so harsh? Have the days of Sergeant Benton's hot tea and bacon butties been left behind in favour of this callous organisation here? But how does that work when no one knows she's there? She displays incredible technical prowess which we've never actually seen before too...is this really the same Tosh we've been watching for the last two years? Finally Ianto picks Jack up in a park and has an homo-erotic tussle with a Weevil, begs him for a job, helps him catch a Pterodactyl and stands outside the Torchwood office brandishing cups of coffee. So he was employed as the tea boy after all!

This is all fine and dandy but it's too indicative of a writer, whilst wanting to come up with introductions for the main characters as flashbacks, banging square pegs into round holes. The pieces don't quite fit with what we're already familiar with. Then there's no actual plot to relate this to for 45 mins. Add in some bits of Gwen and Rhys rescuing the injured parties, with Gwen getting the clunkiest piece of dialogue and then performing it in the clunkiest way possible in response to Jack's request she goes and finds Owen...altogether now: "Oh, that's right, he can't heal, can he!"

Ouch. Of course the audience has completely forgotten that Owen's a zombie.

Then as they all dust themselves down and leave with little remaining time, Captain John turns up and claims he did it all out of jealousy. Right. That's a lame cliffhanger to take us into the finale. Just what is the motivation here and why is this simply tacked on almost as a last minute effort in creating a plot? I suppose we'll have to wait for the final episode but I was wishing Bilis Manger had turned up at the end instead of James Marsters doing Spike again. Chibnall's 'Adrift' was far better than this entertaining but empty bit of fluff and, agreed, the flashbacks do have a fanwanky charm to them but I was expecting much better than this. Mind you, it's head and shoulders above some of the dross that 'Torchwood' has inflicted on us this year.


Previous episode reviews:

Adrift
From Out Of The Rain
Something Borrowed
A Day In The Death
Dead Man Walking
Reset
Adam
Meat
To The Last Man
Sleeper
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Now that the format war between HD-DVD and Blu-Ray seems to have been settled, I thought it would be appropriate to offer some reviews of recent Blu-Ray releases. As an early adopter I am therefore pleased to present reviews of two classic SF movies now available in the HD format to get us off to a good start. The screen-caps here are courtesy of www.dvdbeaver.com.

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND - 30TH ANNIVERSARY ULTIMATE EDITION

A very handsome 2 disc set that not only features the original theatrical version from 1977 and the Special Edition from 1980 but also the 1998 Director's Cut which was issued on the Collector's Edition. The beauty of it is that all three versions are on one disc, branched together. There are still scenes in the theatrical edition that haven't been kept in subsequent versions, and the Special Edition obviously has the 'interior of the mothership' coda which is absent from the Director's Cut. The Director's Cut is an effort to return to the theatrical version whilst also keeping some of the additional scenes from the Special Edition. Confused? Not to worry. The set includes a fold out guide to what's in, what's out, what's longer, what's shorter in all three versions of the film. One of the nifty things is that you can choose an option to watch the film with onscreen cues to tell you about the alterations between the three different versions presented here. Access is via a sweet little menu that emulates the bank of coloured lights that the scientists use to speak to the aliens.



I've watched the Director's Cut and I have to say for a film that's 30 years old it looks very striking in High Definition. You have to be aware that the quality of some library titles will not necessarily jump out at you as much as current titles. With the best will in the world a 30 year old film is not going to look as good as something that's 5 years old. But there are many sequences in the film that do look stunning in HD and the detail is immaculate. There is some grain in the picture but you would expect that as the film stock and cameras were not as sophisticated back then, film is inherently grainy and often directors make an aesthestic decision to retain grain in their films. There is a curious blurring occasionally in the corner of the frame but I put that down to the original material being used. The opening sequences in the air traffic control room are sharp, with deep blacks and vibrant colour and the abduction of little Barry and the keynote image of the open kitchen door with the flood of yellow light again looks breathtaking.



Overall, the contrast levels are good, colour is glowing and the sharpness is very favourable. It isn't as three dimensional looking as some HD transfers I've seen but this is probably the best quality this film can be seen in right now. The audio is available in DTS-HD 'Lossless" Master Audio 5.1, and an Dolby TrueHD 5.1 track. The soundstage is excellent, great right to left stereo effects on all speakers, a thumpingly good bass and great mix between dialogue, effects and John Williams exquisite music. The sound is marginally better than image in this case but only marginally.

Extras include a new interview with Spielberg at around 20 minutes and also in HD, "Watch the Skies" a six minute featurette, "The Making of Close Encounters" the brilliant feature length documentary by Laurent Bouzereau from the Collectors Edition DVD, 7 deleted scenes (10 mins). Massive photo galleries and a storyboard comparison are the icing on the cake. There is also a very lovely 64 page book full of biographies, anecdotes and glossy photos.

This is retailing for less than £20 and is a bargain. Not only is it a decent HD transfer with great extras but it is also a wonderful film, an epic full of innocence and hope, and featuring stunning visual effects, brilliant performances from Richard Dreyfuss and Teri Garr and direction from Spielberg that isn't drowned in unnecessary sentimentalism.

Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (Sony Home Entertainment - Blu-Ray HD 1080p - SBR26501) On release now


2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY

Kubrick's masterwork makes it to Blu-Ray along with 'A Clockwork Orange', 'The Shining', 'Full Metal Jacket' and 'Eyes Wide Shut' as part of Warner's huge effort to get its back catalogue transferred to HD and out on release.

This is a single disc and comes with a commentary from the actors Keir Dullea and Gary Lockwood. I haven't listened to this just yet so can't venture an opinion. There is a host of extras, including Channel 4's excellent '2001: The Making of a Myth' which is full of production detail and interveiws. There is a 20 minute featurette - 'Standing on the Shoulders of Kubrick: The Legacy of 2001' looking at the impact of 2001 on key film directors. 'Vision of a Future Passed: The Prophecy of 2001' looks at imagery of the future that came out of 2001. Some vintage material can be found on '2001: A Space Odyssey - A Look Behind the Future', '2001: FX and Early Conceptual Artwork' at 10 mins long features input from Christiane Kubrick and 'Look: Stanley Kubrick!' is a montage of images from Kubrick's work on LOOK magazine. There is an audio-only interview, with Stanley Kubrick involved, that runs 75 mins.



The transfer is very good indeed and better than previous restorations. The colours are intense and the levels of black are superb and adding this to the incredible detail present gives you a very three dimensional quality to the picture that's often eye-popping. Very little grain is evident and there is a tiny bit of noise on the opening 'Dawn Of Man' sequence but nothing significant to worry about. This is a bold, high-contrast, colourful transfer that does Kubrick's visual literacy real justice. The best presentation I've ever seen of this film makes this an almost reference quality release and an essential purchase for budding Blu-Ray collectors. The sound is Dolby Digital 5.1 and whilst not a dexterous use of the stereo landscape it highlights the use of classical music very well. The approach to the space station from the Earth is a particularly stunning use of sound and vision.



It's a key film, still very powerful even now, and is one of the best examples of pure cinema I can think of. It is detached emotionally but then that's Kubrick for you so don't let that put you off a visionary achievement about human evolution hand-in-hand with machine evolution in the vastness of the universe. Thanks Arthur. C. Clarke. RIP.

2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (Warner - Blu-Ray HD 1080p - 79838) On release now.

Apologies readers if I've been slow at posting up further music primers for 'Ashes To Ashes'. But here we are with a very quick update. Again, I've highlighted certain albums and listed the rest of the tracks in each episode as honourable mentions. Tracks for Episode 7 will appear shortly.

Enjoy.

EPISODE 5

SIMPLE MINDS
Empires And Dance
(Virgin 1980)

Before stadiums were a gleam in Jim Kerr's eye, this was their third studio album and demonstrated how they were influenced by the fast developing electro-pop with an inspiring mix of post-punk and rock, layered pulsing synthesizers, and crashing dance beats, and naturally hanging this fusion onto songs about travel, consumption, industry, alienation, post-colonialism and Europe. The single 'I Travel', playing as Gene and Alex give chase after gun runner Neary, has Moroder sequencers clashing with funky bass, punching guitar wails in a kaleidoscope of rhythm coupled with an uplifting chorus. It's almost techo! 'Empires and Dance' is them on the cusp of a creative peak with Bowie/Eno, Can, Kraftwerk all clearly influencing it.

But there is also a disco inflection to tracks like 'Celebrate', John Foxx, Magazine and Joy Division are echoed on 'Today, I Died Again' whilst the European vibe surfaces on 'Constantinople Line' and 'Capital City'. It's a feverish, shimmering mix of synthesisers, guitars and percussion with twitchy paranoia in the lyrics and vocal mannerism of Kerr. Simple Minds produced great material in their early career - very post punk/new wave - before dropping it all for slices of Americana which ultimately ended their creative peak. Catch it here in full bloom.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Madness - 'One Step Beyond': Gene and Alex chase across the rooftop to witness the gun runner meeting. (Stiff 1979)

XTC - 'Sgt. Rock Is Going To Help Me': Chris and Ray check out Neary and his associates. (from 'Black Sea' album, Virgin 1980)

Killing Joke - 'Turn To Red': Reeks is found dead (EG Records 1979)

Donna Summer - 'I Feel Love': The team walk into the gay club on their undercover operation. (Casablanca 1977)

John Davis - 'Love Magic': Later...in the club. (Columbia 1979)

The Human League - 'Don't You Want Me': Alex quotes the lyrics (Virgin 1981)

Sarah Brightman - 'I Lost My Heart To A Starship Trooper': Ray attempts to chat up Neary. (Ariola Hansa 1978)

Soft Cell - 'Where Did Our Love Go' : End credits. (B side to 'Tainted Love' Some Bizarre 1981)

EPISODE 6

SOFT CELL
Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret
(Some Bizarre 1981)

Kitchen sink drama, English suburban sleaze and squalor and a hefty dose of goading at British hypocrisy mark out the first album from Almond and Ball. Synthesisers mix with Motown and soul inflections, torch song vocals, disco percussion and the first glimmerings of rap. The songs are far and away from the obsessions of groups like 'Ultravox' or 'OMD' and deal with personal angst, boredom, frustration. 'Secret Life' is a stunning song, combining Motown with dark, witty lyrics and it indicates the future direction away from soul and into the more grittier burlesque of the follow up album. 'Seedy Films' is all porno hypocrisy whilst 'Sex Dwarf', especially the video, caused a minor controversy. The iconic 'Tainted Love' - one of the quintessential songs of the 1980s - is heard whilst Alex is dreaming of watching home movies in her bed. Whilst recording in New York they met Cindy Ecstasy who influenced the rap style of their original single 'Memorabilia' and introduced the band to the drug of the same name. It tends to sound a little bit dated now but even so the retro sound is now becoming highly influential and many of the songs on this first album are still quite powerful. Almond should, quite rightly, be regarded as one of the finest singers of his generation and his recent live shows have been sublime.

JAPAN
Tin Drum
(Virgin 1981)
Another band reaching the height of their powers in 1981 amidst a growing fascination for cultural imports from the Far East. This is a wonderfully minimalist, atmospheric fusion of layered keyboards, Mick Karn's stunning fret bass work and David Sylvian's maturing vocal style. This is art-rock influenced by the Yellow Magic Orchestra by way of Roxy Music and David Bowie. The single 'Ghosts' must be one of the most unusual tracks to get into the Top Ten. It's a haunting, depressing ballad, using atonal synthetics and percussion to back up Sylvian's crooning. It plays during Alex's final dream that reveals Gene is in her bed. The rest of the album mixes some utterly stunning percussion from Steve Jansen, especially on 'The Art Of Parties', that incredible Karn bass and Richard Barbieri's shimmering keyboards with an Eastern inluence that isn't bombastic or crass. A superb album.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

The Skids - 'Into The Valley': The opening car chase (Virgin 1979)

Roxy Music - 'Same Old Scene': Gene navel gazing alone in his office (Reprise EG 1980)

The Beat - 'Mirror In The Bathroom': Playing in the background in the restaursnt (Go Feet 1980)

Spandau Ballet - 'Chant No. 1': Ray and Chris in the pub playing Space Invaders (Chrysalis 1981)

Kim Wilde - 'Kids In America' : Donny's birthday party at Luigi's (RAK 1981)

Ultravox - 'Vienna' : The iconic Gene rescuing Alex sequence (Chrysalis 1981)

The Stranglers - 'Golden Brown' : Chris returns the statue of Krishna to Mr. Chatterjee (Liberty 1982)

Music Primer - Episode Four
Music Primer - Episode Two
Music Primer - Episode One

BBCHD - 19th March 2008 - 10.00pm

An interesting and absorbing script from Chris Chibnall, who in my opinion can be as uneven a writer as Russell T. Davies. Here the focus is squarely on Gwen uncovering a particularly unfortunate skeleton in Torchwood's closet. It seems logical to assume that the rift in Cardiff not only washes things up on the doorstep but also is capable of snatching them away. Chibnall plugs into a particularly contemporary concern around missing persons and for the most part builds this into a rather tense exploration of Jack's modus operandi and Torchwood's shady past.

What brings this episode to life are the three performances from Eve Myles, Kai Owen and the guest actor, Ruth Jones. Jones is very impressive as Nicki Bevan, the mother of the missing boy that Gwen goes looking for. It's a lovely, sensitive portrayal of a mother who still has hope that her son will return and shows what a terrific actor she is as well as being a great writer. The journey that Nicki goes on is interesting but the conclusion to her heartbreaking story is predictable. It is inevitable that she will have hope torn away from her when Gwen finally puts the truth in front of her - a son so horrifically altered that hope is crushed. Here both characters learn that to know the truth is not necessarily a good thing. It's horrifically painful. And Jack, in his attempts to obfuscate Gwen's investigations, is all too aware of what will happen when Gwen finds out where the rift refugees have gone and what has happened to them.

Myles is great as the blinkered Gwen - so blinded to the truth that she can't see how her single-mindedness is wrecking her relationship with her husband. Kai Owen is equally good and I almost cheered when he laid it on the line for her in the great scene in the park. Gwen's journey has all been about reconciling her normal life with her extraordinary job. On this occasion he points out that she must learn to not to bring her work home with her! Apart from the relationship with Nicki, the rest of Gwen's dealings are with men and the men in this story are all trying to help her deal with the nature and power of truth - Rhys as her husband, Jack as her boss and Andy as her close friend. Even Ianto, acting perhaps as Jack's conscience, sympathises with her enough to actually spill the beans as to where the rift refugees are. I also love PC Andy Davidson as a character and hope they bring him back as Tom Price is delightful in the role and his work with Myles here is warm and very human.

For about three quarters of this, Chibnall maintains an ever growing mystery and delivers a frightening vision of the future when Nicki's son describes a solar system on fire. I would have liked more about what he witnessed but all we got was Gwen's voice over claiming he'd looked into a dark star. Instead of further elucidation we were shifted into the final act, and as I say, a fairly predictable and sentimental ending. It was rather clear from the outset that this would be how it ended - with Nicki left with nothing but the nightmare of a disfigured son instead of the rosy dreams she once cherished and Gwen learning a very hard lesson about how much truth you should go looking for. But it's acted and directed with great skill and certainly is a much more satisfying episode that some of the rather unfortunate disasters we've had in this series to date. The performances are certainly the strength here and the lush location filming in the Bristol Channel also manages to dispel the gloomy mood of late.

When it doesn't try too hard, 'Torchwood' actually starts to work and this is another example of an episode working because the usual histrionics, absurdity and smugness are nowhere in sight and characters are actually allowed to grow and endear themselves to the audience.

Previous episode reviews:

From Out Of The Rain
Something Borrowed
A Day In The Death
Dead Man Walking
Reset
Adam
Meat
To The Last Man
Sleeper
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

BBC1 - 20th March 2008 - 9.00pm

'Well, the mind's an amazing organ'

'I've got an amazing organ'

'It's capable of far more than you'd imagine'

'Right again'

An emotionally complex episode from Matthew Graham which begins with low comedy and spirals into dark tragedy. It's an unsettling episode that shifts our willingness to identify with the lead characters, dangerously messing with our allegiances to both Alex and Gene.

Forget the central plot for a moment then which just concerns a charity worker helping himself to the funds he's raised and just concern yourself with the power struggle going on at the Met. This is a clash of ideologies between Gene and Alex with each ultimately paying the price in indulging the suggestions of each other. What is interesting to note is that as Alex asserts herself here, to 'get control', to force Gene into her strategies, he is weakened, loses his authority, his power, his control. This is borne out by initially the Police 5 reconstruction. Not only is it an hilarious meta-textual riff on the series characters (the fat 'Ray' trying to get back in the police car) where it restates the 'constructed' nature of Gene, Ray and Chris in Alex's mind within another television programme but later, in the interview with the venerable Shaw Taylor, Gene is thoroughly humiliated by Alex. He only does the interview for her because he's willing to give her ideas a chance and because by now we know he's vulnerable to her charms. And he suffers because of it.

As humiliation piles up with the failure to nail the charity worker Gill Hollis, a similarly emasculated male character played with great bitterness by Matthew McFadyean, Gene goes off the deep end. He arrests and beats up a gang of black youths and Alex shops him to his superiors. This again is a gutting experience, both Glenister and Hawes sensitively capturing Alex's palpable regret at what has happened and Gene's wounded male pride. This escalates into that final sequence with the near death of Shaz where he totally loses control and allows his men to beat up Gill. It is very uncomfortable viewing and is in stark contrast to our often blase acceptance of Gene's tactics back in 1973. 1981 is a bit closer to home to us as viewers and we know Gene shouldn't be lowering himself to use violence and that his methods are wrong.

Gene's emasculation ties in with a number of subtexts - the child Alex being read 'The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe', which strangely echoes quite a bit of this series, posits Gene as the lion Aslan (his referral to being the Manc Lion is surely a deliberate symbol) wherein Aslan is humiliated, his mane is shorn and he loses his power as protector of the children in the book. This is also reinforced by the scene in the TV studio where the hairdresser tries to cut his hair and the scene in the Met where Caroline Price (the White Witch?) verbally dresses Gene down. Aslan, as a protector figure has his powers removed but then dies and is resurrected. Is this Gene's fate? When Gene asks Alex out on a date, the Christian symbolism is highlighted again, where Alex asks for Dover Sole, Gene replies 'I can give you Sole' but did he mean 'soul' there? This builds on the intriguing notion that Alex and Gene are linked and power is shared between them. Evan White, who gets Alex to report Gene to his superiors and effectively gets him off the case, is obviously trying to drive a wedge between them. When Alex is left in the flat at the end of the story and someone knocks on the door, we hope it is Gene, but it isn't - it's Evan - and yet during their get together Alex 'sees' Gene in her mind's eye.

There is an awful lot going on in this episode and it makes the tone often feel uneven because of the accumulation of dramatic, comedic and symbolic elements. A good episode but one that does strip away a lot of the loyalties built up towards Alex and Gene. It is supplemented by some great visual comedy - notably the Little And Large poster that Chris and Ray lean against, the Roger de Courcey moment, the boy band bad puns, the Police 5 scene - and there are plenty of Gene's politically incorrect wisecracks. The plot by Gill to steal the money is fairly obvious and the solution to the crime is almost superfluous to all the other grand narratives going on which obviously culminates in Gill stabbing Shaz. It's an emotionally powerful scene as Shaz ebbs away with heartfelt. moving performances from Marshall Lancaster and Montserrat Lombard. And of course, with Shaz seeing the death figure of the clown does this question that '1981' is real or a construct? And there is real desperation now for Alex with Keeley Hawes toying with our sympathies one minute and then shocking us with her undermining of Gene. Glenister does brooding Gene exceptionally well and the partly tamed Gene apologising to Viv shows us a character who really is out of his time and like 'The Sweeney's Jack Regan, finds his methods successful only at a price to himself, his colleagues and his victims.

One more to go. Will Alex prevent the death of her parents? Just what is the connection between Evan and the Prices? Does Gene save the young Alex from the car bomb? It'll be a pleasure to try and find out in a series that has steadily gone from strength to strength.

Episode Six review
Episode Five review
Episode Four review
Episode Three review
Episode Two review
Episode One review

BBC4 - 20th March 2008 - 9.00pm

'Let's not do any more, right?'

'Fuck orrff'

Akin to BBC4's previous bio-pics 'Fantabulosa!'and 'Fear Of Fanny', this drama looks at the off-screen trials and tribulations of British sitcom's oddest couple, 'Steptoe and Son' - Harry H. Corbett and Wilfrid Brambell. This is certainly one of the best single dramas of the year so far, depicting two men ultimately trapped and destroyed by their roles. It is also a refreshing look at Britain in the 1960s and far from the 'swinging' excess we're over-familiar with, the overall mood is one of gloom, claustrophobia, small-mindedness and strict social and class divides. So, the bright, colourful, libertarian society is, I suspect, a smokescreen for this much more truthful vision. As with the previous single dramas from BBC4, the settings are spare and economic, providing broad brush strokes rather than immaculate detail to depict the inner-sanctums of the BBC studios, the 'Steptoe' sets themselves, rehearsal rooms and the respective homes of the actors. But it's always convincing enough and there is a genuine frisson as Jason Isaacs and Phil Davis play out their scenes on the recreated 'Steptoe' set.

The claustrophobia is augmented by two breathtakingly beautiful performances from Isaacs and Davis. Isaacs, in particular, has an uncanny ability to look like Harry H. Corbett and my worry that either he or Davis would descend into impression or caricature of the two men dissolved very quickly. Both actors bring fine nuances to their portrayals culminating in a number of scenes, full of desperation and sadness as they both fall hostage to fortune within the 'Steptoe' series. The irony of Corbett being described as England's Brando is searingly underlined in a moving scene where both actors are rehearsing a scene from one of the episodes where I think Harold Steptoe has aspirations to be an actor. He's on bended knee and recreates the Brando 'I coulda been a contender' speech from 'On The Waterfront' and it is at this moment that reality, where Corbett's own desire to be the Brando of Britain, intersects with the failure of Harold Steptoe to escape from his father's influence. At that moment Corbett becomes the failed son for real and the sympathetic look between the two lead actors is incredible. But there is also utter vitriol when Davis as Brambell spits back in reply, in a moment of self-hatred, 'Actors...they're all poofs!'

Anyone assuming they'd see both Brambell and Corbett having continual slanging matches would simply miss the point of this. The sad story is that both men didn't get on with each other but their entrapment within their times - Brambell as a closeted homosexual and Corbett as a repressed heterosexual - clearly show here that they both engaged in hostilities in a weird no-man's land where they both grew to hate the programme they worked on. The 'Steptoe' writers, Galton and Simpson, are portrayed as quiet, warm and eventually complicit in using the series to mirror, in an art imitating life way, both stars' agonising struggle to actually break free of the series. Cool performances come from Rory Kinnear and Burn Gorman although I was troubled by the distracting comedy beard that Gorman sports throughout. Roger Allam is also sincere and unctuous as BBC Head Of Comedy, Tom Sloane, exploiting the series and disregarding the pain of the actors. It is also great to see Clare Higgins back on our screens and she is really memorable as Joan Littlewood, the doyen of the UK's method acting school, and her ultimate abandonment of Corbett is portrayed here with a withering look as they meet in a pub after the 'Steptoe' success.

Davis as Brambell is equally thrilling. His closeted homosexuality is seen to eat away at the man's soul and Davis shows a man caught between desire and repulsion. Poor old Brambell gets up the courage to go into a gay pub, The Wheatsheaf, and is then barracked by a load of queens with the mocking catchphrase from the series...'You dirtay owwwwwldddd maaaaahhhhhnnn!'. He is utterly crushed by it and flees the pub. It's a scene that is pathetic, tragic and darkly funny.

Michael Samuels directs this with great aplomb, making very creative use of a fairly low budget and focusing appropriately on the performances of the leads. The price of fame for both men was very high and here it is seen as a force that cripples Corbett's and Bramble's careers (Bramble scuttles back to England after a Broadway flop and clings onto Steptoe as though it were a life belt) but also guts them both as men, taking away any power they had to try and be themselves. The demise is prolonged though. Just as Davis and Isaacs mutually agree to stop doing the show and both Corbett and Brambell move on, there's an ominous inevitability in that final phone call enticing Corbett back to an Australian tour of 'Steptoe'. Isaacs sense of resignation and defeat for Corbett is palpable.

Brilliant, tragic, funny.

BBC Four Curse Of Comedy Season

BBC 1 - 13th March 2008 - 9.00pm

"I'm reaching my sexual peak in about three minutes. Wanna celebrate?"

Another wonderful episode. The series is most certainly on a roll now. Writer Mick Ford manages to weave an interesting heist caper, ramp up the surrealism of Alex's visions and give all the main characters a little bit of time in the sun. Superb ensemble playing from the regulars and particular congratulations to Keeley Hawes who was quite marvellous in this and simply does not deserve the recent brickbats from the media.

Where do you start with such a well made episode as this? The fantastic 'freezing' vision at the opening with Alex in black falling through twisted red sheets. When she disappears through the bed I was reminded off the travelling sequences in Cocteau's 'La Belle Et La Bete' and the erotic seduction of Harker in Coppola's 'Dracula'. A very charged visual that of course then recurs throughout the story and delivers the ultimate resolution to unresolved sexual tension - Gene emerging from Alex's bed. Oh, Lord.

There is very much a focus on male/female binary relationships here - Alex and Gene are getting closer and Gene is clearly seeking Alex's attention - Ray is feeling left out by the Shaz and Chris relationship and there are hints of a repressed homosexuality emerging - Chas Cale and his missus laundering the money in the 'crime of the week' plot...all about couples. The main focus is of course the Gene/Alex axis and this week we got the ultimate in iconic 'guardian angel' imagery as Gene shoots through the restaurant window and in slow motion moves in to rescue Alex from her freezer hell...and all to the strains of 'Vienna'. Fantastic.

The attempts by Alex to confess who she is to her mother are heartbreaking. Caroline Price seems equally unfazed by this mad woman turning up on her doorstep and babbling incoherently at her. Hasn't she wondered what the heck is going on? And Evan pops out of the woodwork again and it might be fair to put two and two together and get the Cale's mysterious hit man? We are also given more tantalising hints of the car bomb flashbacks - looks like Alex got out of the car to rescue her balloon and is then protected by a shadowy figure passing across the screen. And in the freezer as Alex drifts into unconsciousness the clown figure is seen to merge with Gene as he arrives to rescue her.

Further details that make this such a pleasure are the birthday party for Donnie, prefiguring Alex's determination to get to Molly's party, the re-use of 'Same Old Scene' as Gene broods in his office and seemingly glances in the direction of the picture of Sam Tyler on the wall, the references back to Manchester...lovely patterns confidently layered in for the obsessive viewer.

Catherine Morshead directs this as well as ever with some superb camera work and editing, getting great performances from the leads, the guest actors and even the young lad playing Donnie who gave a very natural performance. It is also very funny and has a grand share of Huntisms to offer.

With only two episodes to go, what does it all mean and what will happen to Alex? On the strength of the last three episodes alone the BBC should commission a second series and pronto. Glenister mentioned that there was to be a second series but it hasn't been officially confirmed.

Episode Five review
Episode Four review
Episode Three review
Episode Two review
Episode One review

BBCHD - 12th March 2008 - 10.00pm

'I want to drink her tears...'

From the ridiculous to the sublime and perhaps a story that slightly takes itself too seriously. P.J. Hammond, creator of 'Sapphire And Steel' amongst many television credits, contributed an interesting script to the first series which, whilst incredibly poetic, was let down by the bouncy goblins at the barbeque sequence. Once again, he delves deep into his box of tricks and comes up with a fascinating concept. Here figures emerge from old reels of film to claim their right to existence. This was very similar to many of his vengeful history concepts running through 'Sapphire And Steel' but it was still atmospheric, odd and unnerving. The poetic and magical conceits need to be accepted at face value here because you aren't going to get logical explanations for everything going on. The travelling circus background has a seedy, provincial feel to it and was marvellously visualised. The idea of taking a victim's breath or tears away has a fairy tale dimension too.

It's an episode full of striking visuals, from the circus to the disused swimming pool, the period cinema to the rainy street corners and complemented by Julian Bleach's startling performance as The Ghostmaker. He's a potent mix of Max Adrian and Michael Wisher, marrying physicality to a rich, fruity vocal style. He is also contrasted nicely with the subtler, mysterious Pearl, played by Camilla Power. Her almost mime-like movement through the story provides some creepy atmosphere, particularly when she's lying in the bath and lunges for the projectionist. Ianto and Jack take centre stage, which makes for a pleasant change, and we are given controlled performances from Barrowman and Lloyd-David that subtly hint at a strangeness in both their pasts. Jack knows the The Night Travellers from a previous investigation and Ianto has a sensitivity to supernatural matters it seems.

Jonathan Fox Bassett's direction is languidly paced, very much a volte face from the usual frenzied quick cutting of the rest of the episodes, but I did feel that although he showcases a very tactile, visual atmosphere he didn't nail the threat, suspense and fear that this story is begging for. It just simply isn't scary enough. It is rather flat. His biggest problem here was having to cover large sections of exposition and having to lead the audience from scene to scene. This was often clunky and obvious and it's really hard to make long speeches and a series of coincidences feel natural and not forced. The worst example is the scene with the Nurse where she conveniently remembers the old woman in the rest home. Yes, it's a coincidence and yes, it's badly acted. Other problems with exposition abound, especially at the conclusion when the solution to erasing The Night Travellers and releasing the coma victims is like an onscreen narration and rather contrived. There are also some odd scenes. At the beginning when Torchwood are in the cinema and strange things start happening, both Gwen and Owen disappear and Ianto is suddenly left on his own. They reappear magically in the SUV some five minutes later. Where did they go? Talking of disappearing characters also begs the question of what happened to the projectionist Jonathan and his own mum and dad in the cinema. The ending, where the child is restored to life, may be tear inducing for Ianto at least, but this happiness sits rather oddly when you know both the kid's parents are dead. And the coda, suggesting a return match with The Ghostmaker, is lifted directly from Doctor Who's far scarier and effective 'Blink' from 2007.

To me it feels like a strong central concept has been muddied by inconsistent resolution, over long exposition and is lacking a narrative drive to hammer home the scares. The scariest bits are the girl attacked at the bus stop, a genuinely upsetting and surreal moment, and the sudden appearance of the Ghostmaker and Pearl by the car full of passengers. The rest lacks a little something despite the striking visuals and it certainly needs more wit. This is a shame as it ultimately disappoints and I was very much looking forward to this episode. It is, however, not a disaster as some might think (there are far worse episodes in this series). It's a necessary change of pace and an attempt to do something more poetic and dreamlike. Whether something like this has a place in 'Torchwood' is debatable. My disappointment with the series as a whole is that rather than trying to scare, unnerve or frighten the aim is more or less to shock, titillate or gross out. Occasionally, I want proper scares where the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. 'Torchwood' has so far failed to do enough of this and this episode had great potential to achieve that. Pity that it too couldn't get that right.

Previous episode reviews:

Something Borrowed
A Day In The Death
Dead Man Walking
Reset
Adam
Meat
To The Last Man
Sleeper
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Season 14 - January 1977

‘It’s true then. They say the Evil One eats babies’

After the Time Lord navel gazing of ‘Assassin’ it’s such a pleasure to see Hinchcliffe and Holmes just hit the reset button here. It’s also the first of Chris Boucher’s scripts and it’s noticeable how he brings a very literary sensibility to the series. It makes for much richer storytelling and oddly pre-empts the Christopher Bidemead ‘hard science’ approach of Season 18.

It’s also a fantastic example of how to introduce a new companion. Leela emerges from the page as a fully formed character, of a specific time and place, with moral values of her own. This is as much down to Louise Jameson’s performance too. Let’s face it, she brings a feral dignity to what could just be seen as a bit of titillation for the teenage boys and their fathers in the audience and makes an instant impression here. Leela is strong, powerful and lives by codes and ethics that the character will then be seen to question when confronted by the moral barometer of the Doctor and the bizarre situations he leads her into.

Plot wise, the Doctor arrives on a planet where the savage Sevateem worship an all powerful god called Xoanon. The Doctor discovers that Xoanon is a schizophrenic computer he though he’d repaired in the past. Instead, he has inadvertently driven it mad…

It’s a funny thing, whilst watching this again, I was struck by how much of the story is focused on belief systems and the chaos that opposing systems can generate when they can’t comfortably exist in parallel to one another. There is much here about personal beliefs, how you back them up and what happens when your faith in ideas is shockingly knocked out from under you. Poor old Neeva, praising Xoanon and fulfilling all the rituals of religious belief in order to give the Sevateem a frame of reference, discovers his faith in Xoanon has been wasted. Is proof of your faith in your God just down to a set of rituals and sermons, dressed up in anachronistic bits of technology that you’ve forgotten the purposes of?

Or is it, as Tomas and Calib discover, what you can see in front of your eyes, with clear evidence, with determined cause and effects? The nature of religion in the story is seen as, at best, a bit suspect as those entrusted with transmitting it, namely Neeva, don’t really understand what they’re talking about.

You also see these themes played out in the visual dichotomy between the savagery of the Sevateem and the cold intelligence of the Tesh. They are two aspects of Xoanon’s mind that it forces into conflict because it thinks this is necessary in order for those opposing aspects to truly become united.

The story also touches on the god-like nature of the Doctor and it could be seen as an attempt to bring the Doctor more into contact with the darker aspects of his personality as presented by Xoanon and also to show him where his good intentions go wrong. Xoanon is a representation of the Doctor where the processes of his inner growth and transformation have been stunted, with a crippled psyche cramped into the little steel cage of a computer. As Xoanon’s personality disintegrates, dark projections of the Id evidence themselves as the invisible creatures (images of the Doctor’s head no less) that attack the Sevateem and protect what seems like an impenetrable barrier. The Doctor not only understands that he must breakdown the accepted truths (the barrier) but also the Tesh’s obsolete prejudices and by extension neutralise Xoanon’s/his own irrational unconscious nature.

In terms of world building too, the story pays dividends. There is a real sense of who the Sevateem are, with lead characters constantly arguing about their situation and fighting for power. It may sound strange, but the way we see the Sevateem is also a very 70’s view of the dystopian return to nature. This is played out in many contemporary dramas and comedies – ‘Survivors’ and ‘The Good Life’ being two examples where old/new technologies are reduced to their basics or reaffirmed in order to install a new feudalistic way of life.

As a production, again this comes across very well. The jungle and Sevateem sets are very well realised, the computer room on the Tesh ship is a bizarre high-tec altar and Xoanon’s lair provides a very disturbing cliffhanger with multiple images of the Doctor’s face screaming out ‘Who am I?’ repeatedly. Visual effects are again variable. The CSO of Leela and the Doctor standing before the cliff face where his face is carved out is actually very good. The Horda, whilst a neat idea, do come across as a little bit rubbery and unconvincing in some scenes. The filmed sections are well done and this is probably Pennant Roberts' best work on the series.

Performances are excellent, especially Baker and Jameson but also Brendan Price (and if you could indulge me, very fetching in his loincloth too) and Leslie Schofield who both get as much conviction out of the script as they can. My only gripe is that the Tesh are a bit too emotionless even though they are supposed to be and the actors aren’t helped by the very odd costumes that seem to undermine any realism they are trying to put over. They’re a bit too obvious a visual representation of the sterility of Xoanon’s domain and their ‘Pan’s People’ bowing and scraping doesn’t help either.

There are various nods to ‘Forbidden Planet’, ‘Planet Of The Apes’ and the work of Harry Harrison in the script and overall, it’s a refreshing story that builds a credible world with characters that constantly drive the plot forward and it touches on a vein of science fiction literature of the time that up until then had very rarely been exploited in the programme.

THE FACE OF EVIL BBC Video VHS (BBCV 6672 Cert PG - deleted)

42
Originally transmitted 19th May 2007

There is silence. Martha's fingernails are tapping frantically on the pod window. The Doctor is mouthing , 'I'll save you' through the airlock window as the distance between them elongates. The shots keep frantically intercutting between his agonising observation and Martha's face at the window of the pod as it slowly pulls away and falls into the sun.

If '42' is remembered for one sequence then it should be for that moment as 'proper companion' Martha is separated from the Doctor in a literal baptism of fire. This is real jeopardy and the sort that mere 'passengers' in the TARDIS manage to avoid (most of the time) and for Martha it's a real sense of the death drive that propels the Doctor through his travels in time and space. It's a masterful example of performance, direction, editing and production design all fusing into one moment that sums up the heart of the series. A very Graeme Harper moment, too.

Although I'd felt Chris Chibnall's work on 'Torchwood' suffered from adolescent over-indulgence, here he kept it simple, linear and provocative for all the right reasons. The 'real-time' element was a good idea and something new to bring to the series but it lacked the necessary hook to make it a special element. Where '24' indulges in split screens and clocks on screen to remind you of the format, '42' did it backwards, with a countdown , but more as an after thought, without split screen gimmicks. I'd have liked more to have been made of this idea.

It didn't matter because Graeme Harper kept the pace rolling along, with no pauses for breath, sharp camera moves and deep focus all adding to the feeling that this was the ultimate in Doctor Who 'running down corridors' episodes. And Harper loves his primary colours, doesn't he! Bold reds, yellows, blues in the lighting and set design all helped make this one very rich visually, especially combined with the steam, smoke, flares of light and reflections liberally applied therein.

Oh, and any similarities to 'Solaris' and 'Sunshine' , the dirty futures of 'Alien' and 'Blade Runner' are fine by me and likewise the nod to Sorenson's transformation in the classic series' 'Planet Of Evil' and the S.S. Pentallion referencing a certain 'drive' in 'Revenge Of The Cybermen'. And Ashton's possession by Korwin , head wreathed in smoke was surely an homage to 'Pyramids Of Mars'. I like my references.

The idea of a sentient world is a pulp SF trope that's been knocking around for a while and everyone from Arthur C. Clarke to 'Blake's 7' have been in on the act. For me, the sentient sun is a symbol full of contradictions. Not only is it a manifestation of the godhead, a form of celestial epiphany for the Doctor and Martha when they look upon it, but the rising and setting of the sun is a journey into and out of the darkness, guiding souls through the darkness whilst also burning and killing at a glance. Both the Doctor and Korwin are fried and frozen, possessed with burning knowledge and then forced to drop below the horizon like a setting sun.

The sun-filter masks are also linked into the destructive power of the sun. The masks worn by the possessed are an external aspect of the vengeful ego and trap and control the vast forces that can be unleashed from the sub-conscious. The Doctor, Korwin and Ashton are symbolic prisoner and captor, representing two interchanging forces in one body.

The episode is also another voyage into the realm of the feminine principle with both McDonnell and Martha as pivotal to the resolution of the crisis. Martha is Dante's Beatrice, guiding the Doctor through Purgatory and McDonnell is the agent of sacrifice through love. Both women become what Plato describes as 'the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual' in that they find the innate goodness within themselves despite past mistakes ? Martha's dispute with her mum, McDonnell's failure to identify the sentient nature of the sun.

And talking of Martha's mum Francine, I'm pleased to see that the seeds sown in 'The Lazarus Experiment' have started to grow with her now being drawn into the web of intrigue that surrounds the mysterious Harold Saxon. These scenes, together with the mobile phone upgrade, nicely echoed Rose's conversation with Jackie in 'End Of The World' but they've taken that idea and added the dark twist of Saxon's interest in Martha and the Doctor. Oh, Francine, what have you done!

A good, solid episode with some outstanding work from Freema Agyeman, especially her scenes with William Ash as Riley, and David Tennant really on form again and showing us a vulnerable, frightened Doctor for a change; excellent, pacy direction from Harper and handsome production design from Ed Thomas and his team that shifts the series into its next gear and aims us towards what looks to be a gripping finale.