A link from Philip Cowley seems to have sent a bit of a stream of new traffic this way – hello to you if you have found me via that route! Please do have a look around – there’s some politics, and some less high-brow stuff…
And also, yes, I know I got it wrong about Jacqui Smith – I somehow got my Blair re-shuffles mixed up and thought Smith became Chief Whip a year earlier than she did. Still, it’s the blogger’s prerogative to talk nonsense!
I’m glad the production team decided to give the Ood another run out – they are certainly the most effective new monster race created since the series returned (except the Space Pig maybe, but he was a one-off sadly). But I wish they had done a bit more with them. The sight of the screaming, rabid Ood was effectively frightening, but beyond that they became a bit predictable: enslaved by evil humans as a vague soft-left parable for sweatshop labour or imperialism or sumfink… The Ood’s subservient status was their defining characteristic when they first appeared, and the Doctor’s blithe acceptance of it does his credibility a bit of damage, given that it turned out they were enslaved. It’s a shame they couldn’t think of something more interesting to explain it.
And overall, the episode had a rather dull, linear structure: the storyline, such as it was, centred on the Doctor and Donna wandering around. Now, I really like the Tenth Doctor and Donna combination, and it’s obvious the writers are really enjoying getting their teeth into writing the dialogue, but I wish there had been something else going on alongside it. The corporation types are rather one-dimensional, and almost certainly intended to be disliked by the viewer; though the choice of the marketing girl to stick to her job and dob the Doctor and Donna in was, I felt, actually a more plausible human reaction than it would have been if she had broken ranks and assisted them – sad she was shown to get “just desserts” for it.
By the end, we were staring at a giant brain… Well, did Time and the Rani teach Russell T Davies nothing?
As a saving grace, Tim Mcinnerny’s transformation into an Ood was phenomenally effective – indeed, rather stomach-turning for a family show; I doubt The X-Files would have shown much more. But his back-story was rather unconvincing; all that business about his father made this intergalactic slave corporation seem incredibly tin-pot.
This wasn’t bad TV by any stretch of the imagination, and I rate it more highly than a lot of the journeyman-written episodes from last year… But even so, it didn’t leave me feeling I’d been watching the most brilliant TV programme ever made – and as it was an episode of Doctor Who, that represents a failure, albeit a narrow and on the whole enjoyable one.
As with Gridlock last year, this episode promised a lot more than it delivered, but while it was in its promising phase, it was very good indeed.
The Pompeii set-up was marvellous: the use of the Cinecitta sets was thoroughly worthwhile, and the use of the Cambridge Latin Course family names certainly amused me – particularly the “you’ll be remembered” line to Caecilius at the end. It’s a shame there were a few shots of Lucius striding up a very obviously Welsh hillside to double for Vesuvius at one point.
The guest cast were excellent, particularly Phil Cornwell and Peter Capaldi. The Welsh gags were also nice touches. The use of make-up design, with eyes painted on hands, was downright eery; and the shrivelled old seer was effectively repulsive. Above all, the build-up was fantastic: how could the Pompeiians know so much about the Doctor and Donna, but not about the eruption? What did he mean by “there is something on your back”?! What is going on with the volcano? Fantastic.
And then, with only fifteen minutes left, they decide they need to explain it all… and the whole thing becomes utterly bog-standard. Aliens stranded on Earth for millennia, will destroy the planet… the Doctor stops them. Tsk. I mean, how many buried alien spacecrafts can one planet accumulate? The Racnoss, this lot, Daemons, Zygons, there must be loads more… And the Doctor fixes it all with the sonic screwdriver and outruns a volcanic eruption. Cheap peril, and even cheaper resolutions.
Also, it rather seems as though the Doctor and Donna can just nip back and forth between Pompeii and the Volcano as if they were right next to each other – in fact they’re about seven miles apart. Nor did the business with the household gods at the end, nor the coining of the term volcano, really add anything.
Still, it was a top-notch production, and certainly enjoyable. Just a shame about the plot.
There are a couple of trends in RTD-era Doctor Who that are potentially relevant to this episode. One is that episode four of each series is always the first of a two-part aliens-invade-Earth type story, which is usually a bit below par. The second is that many episodes are good at the build-up, but offer poor, or at least overly simple, resolutions. The Sontaran Stratagem might fit the latter characteristic, though as it’s part one of two and is all build-up, as an episode in its own right it won’t suffer as a result; but it has so far not disappointed.
As a return for both the Sontarans and UNIT, this potentially had fanwank written all over it, but overall restrained itself. Inevitably, the Doctor entering the mobile HQ was reminiscent of the last full-on appearance on UNIT, in 1989’s Battlefield; it’s a shame the UN’s unhappiness at being associated with a military force dedicated to defending humanity (!) has meant they have had to dispense with the blue berets and change the name to “Unified Intelligence Task Force” – but on the up-side, the joke about UNIT dating was, to me at least, hilarious. I didn’t get much of a sense of today’s UNIT, however: the commanding officer was well-played, but lacked depth – much as Lethbridge-Stewart did at times, of course, but Nicholas Courtney’s strangely bluff charisma was sadly not replicated. I do hope he gets a cameo in next week’s episode – it will be a sad opportunity missed if not.
As for the Sontarans, I am a bit baffled that RTD chose them from among numerous other potential “second tier” monsters to bring back – they were always a bit rubbish really, weren’t they? Still, their visualisation worked better than the initial promotional pictures had suggested – their faces had been made to look rather too cute in the stills I saw. Overall, they are a credible monster, though I’m not sure their “returning” status really adds anything to them. Still, no point reinventing the wheel, I suppose.
Also returning to the show, throughout this year’s series, is some surprisingly strong horror: after the Ood transformation last week, the shrivelled old woman the week before and the grotesque belly-bulging antics of the season opener, the clone-in-a-tank was perhaps the most grotesque and unnerving monster ever seen on the show. Utterly horrible, brilliantly realised. But is it really appropriate for a pre-7pm transmission? Well, it’s the BBC’s problem.
Oh, and also also returning: Martha Jones. I tried hard last year to give Martha the benefit of the doubt, but after the series ended, and after her stint in Torchwood, I concluded rather sadly that Freema Agyeman just can’t cut it, unless (as in Human Nature, for instance) she’s given some really good material to work with. Obviously Helen Raynor’s script provided sufficient grist to Freema’s mill, as for the most part she was decent here, although at times, for instance the “I’m bringing you back to Earth” line she still seemed a bit too stagey.
But Martha’s character development is excellent: I can’t recall seeing a companion come back having been in many ways transformed: engaged, newly qualified, and in a new line of work. The only comparison is Ace’s development into a battle-hardened soldier in the New Adventures – thinking about it, it’s hard not to think there might have been a bit of an influence going on there.
And before I forget, also also also returning: that bloody bridge at Cardiff docks! As seen in Army of Ghosts, the Torchwood episode with the people being taken and returned by the Rift, and now as the (admittedly very effective) backdrop to the episode-opening car crash (yet more strong horror for a 6:20 TX!)… They really need to find some more varied locations. The re-use in Partners in Crime of the corridor in the Millennium Stadium previously seen in Dalek and The Runaway Bride – even shot at almost exactly the same angle as in the latter – has also been blindingly obvious, and I’m sure there must be other examples of re-used locations that have been spotted by people more eagle-eyed than I.
The story itself in many ways re-assembled the staples of an Earth-set Doctor Who story, but with enough twists to make it interesting. So, an alien attack plunges the planet into chaos – but this time it’s a threat on the ground rather than a spaceship looming out of the sky or marching alien hoards breaking cover. Again, the Doctor meets the companion’s family – but this time, actually, he’s met them before. Again, UNIT responds – but this time, the Doctor is an integral part of the operation, and the outfit takes centre stage in the narrative. Indeed, the matching-up of the militaristic Sontarans with the military UNIT is surely a deliberate decision.
The teenage genius… not sure we really needed another riff on this, but I suppose Doctor Who hasn’t done it before (has it? Maybe Adam in the 2005 series…). I particularly liked the Doctor’s reaction at the academy-thing: striding around, identifying all the massively sophisticated technology at a glance, teleporting casually off the planet and back again, then defeating the alien with some improvisation using everyday sporting equipment – it doesn’t get much more Jon Pertwee, albeit the pacing has been appropriately upped.
All told, this episode does very little that’s totally new, but manages to get a lot of thing spot-on right that have only been more-or-less right, or worse, in the past. And for that reason, it counts as one of the more successful episodes of its kind.
This is an interesting time to be seeing The Long Blondes. They have struck out in a superficially new direction on their second album, but on close inspection it is a bit of a case of the Emperor’s new clothes: aside from some prominent Sheffield-style synths on a couple of tracks, the new direction has mainly involved flattening, tightening and straightening the sound of the first album, while lyrically it veers between the acute drama of old and a new sense of almost crass self-pity. Full marks to them for not just serving up the first album re-heated, but on balance I feel they have gone down something of a blind alley.
Unlike Elbow’s excellent show of the previous week, this gig didn’t really unlock the nuances of the new album: instead, it battered the songs even more relentlessly into submission. And in as far as it goes, it’s a pretty successful approach: the songs are fast, hard and powerful. Kate Jackson’s impressive voice is deservedly the focus of the sound, while she maintains a captivating and lively stage presence, not least due to her striking ensemble of stripey Gallic-style top, beret and black hotpants: she’s not classically pretty, but certainly manages to be sexy.
While the sheer brute force of the performance overcomes some of the weaker moments on the album – though why they chose to open with the witless dirge of Round the Hairpin is beyond me – it has a generally mixed effect on the older material. Some of the tracks from the first album are done excellent justice – the crowd goes predictably mental for Oce and Never Again in particular, plus main set closer Giddy Stratospheres and encore Lust in the Movies. But elsewhere they just take the songs too fast and too hard: Weekend Without Makeup in particular loses much of its claustrophobic intensity, but a few other tracks are similarly ill-served. Which is not to say they’re not enjoyable – the band just don’t do them justice fully.
All told, the Long Blondes remain an energetic live experience, although they sometimes press the right buttons in the wrong order: banter from the drummer, shimmying from Kate and a ferocious treatment of the songs. If they can put the same elements together in a slightly more coherent package, they’ll be one of the top live acts in the country – I’ll be interested to see if they get it right touring their third album.
I will get round to doing some more music reviews, honest I will… As a gentle way of breaking myself back in, I’d like to register my liking for the single I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids – terrible song title and a not much better band name, but don’t let that put you off.
Melodically, and also in terms of the vocal, it’s one of a few songs at the moment trying to sound like The Cure, but it would certainly be at the bouncier, janglier end of the Cure spectrum. It’s got some rather nice shouty backing vocals too. Lyrically, it’s a riff on one of the most irresistible themes in pop music – seeing the person you love arm in arm with someone else. I’m a sucker for a decent song on that theme, whether it’s Percy Sledge’s It Tears Me Up or Joe Jackson’s Is She Really Going Out With Him?
In fact, I was moved to do something I’ve not done for ages: go and buy the single. Well, not go and buy the single so much as stay at home and buy the single: it’s one of the great strengths of the MP3 age (in fact, come to think of it I did buy a single recently – The Beginning of the Twist by The Futureheads, but that was mainly because Kat bullied me into it; left to my own devices I probably would just have awaited the album). Elvis Costello recently likened the practice of buying individual tracks to going into a cake shop, sticking your fingers into a cake and just taking a bit out of the middle – but let’s be honest, we’d all like to do that from time to time if we could.
So off I went to 7digital, the download site you don’t have to pay a subscription to use and which, unlike iTunes, doesn’t rely on particular players. Trouble is, 7digital have only a limited range of downloads… and it looks like Black Kids are only releasing their single via iTunes. So that’s a sale they’ve lost – you can forgive people finding ways of acquiring music illegally when bands do that, frankly.
MJ Hibbett and his Validators have released their excellent new single, Do The Indie Kid. I was all set to review it, then he went and put out a video to it as well, so you can judge it for yourself! I know! What’s he trying to do to me…?
So, you’ve by now watched the video and judged the single to be utterly brilliant (NB if you haven’t, rectify this immediately). Two things to add: firstly, it’s available on SEVEN INCH VINYL!!! Secondly, the B-side, The Drummer’s Lament, is also excellent. Though I remember Mark introducing it at one of his Totally Acoustic nights by saying, “it should really be called The Drummer’s Fucking Long Whinge, but it wouldn’t fit in iTunes…”
So, hie yourself to the MJ Hibbett website – link in the links section – and make your purchase!
Monday’s gig by Chris T-T and his new band at the Luminaire in Kilburn was enjoyable, loud and slightly saddening – not necessarily in that order. Chris has been on the scene for at least ten years now, and went professional in 2003 (don’t know for sure if he still is). With Capital, he has released what is in many respects his best album to date (I will get round to doing some proper record reviews, honest I will…). But at only his second album since turning pro, it’s not exactly the latest instalment in a campaign to take the world by storm.
So it wasn’t all that surprising that the gig was not especially well-attended: not deserted by any means, but in a small-ish venue, an artist of T-T’s undoubted quality, six or seven albums into his career, should have been packing the place out. Still, it was good to see him in full band mode for the first time in over four years – it’s just a shame it all gave the impression that his moment might have passed.
The major surprise of the Bahrain Grand Prix was BMW’s effective eclipsing of McLaren Mercedes: far from running a bit light and then falling back in the race, BMW put up a strong pace and left the McLarens behind. Perhaps like McLaren managed in 1997, BMW could become semi-regular contenders for wins in the second half of the season.
But the dominance of Ferrari is complete, for the moment: could this year turn out to be like 2004, where the Ferraris were sufficiently strong to be the default winners, and it took a highly unusual combination of events, a small number of times in the season, for them to be beaten? If so, there is at least one consolation: unlike in 2004, Ferrari are allowing their drivers to race each other.
It’s worth reflecting just how remarkable Ferrari’s performances over the last then years have been: from 1997 they have been serious title contenders in every season bar one (2005). In 1997 and 1998, despite slow starts to each season, they took the title to the last round; in 1999 they would surely have won both titles were it not for Michael Schumacher’s broken leg; and more recent seasons do not need further comment. In that time, Williams, McLaren and Renault have come and gone as the main opposition.
But returning to today – had he not won in Australia, Lewis Hamilton would surely be getting a very rough ride by now. He seems to have struggled to adapt to the loss of traction control, and his role as team leader: to lose seven places off the start is diabolical. His win down under is making his problems less obvious.
Warning: this review contains a big spoiler, so if you haven’t seen this episode yet, don’t read it and don’t scroll down to look at the screen grabs!
Opening episodes can be tricky things, whether of a new series or of returning shows. The first series of Skins had an opening episode that focused on introducing the characters, but did not even hint at the dramatic power of later instalments; its second series, by contrast, opened up by audaciously defying the viewers’ expectations. Robin Hood has established a pattern of having a couple of duff episodes at the start of each series, before getting rather good – by which time the critics have already set themselves against it. Ashes to Ashes started extremely well in my opinion, though most people’s reaction was a bit more lukewarm.
Doctor Who has a mixed track record with opening episodes. In 2005, Rose was not the best episode the series has produced, but it was certainly decent when set alongside many that followed; as an introduction to the format, and a bold manifesto for Russell T Davies’s vision of the show, however, it was a brilliantly successful 45 minutes – certainly it blew the doors off Philip Segal’s effort in 1996, and he had 80-odd minutes to play with. But in 2006 and 2007 the opening episodes suffered from being a bit slight: in particular, New Earth didn’t give us a chance to get to know the new Doctor, and was otherwise pleasant but unremarkable Last year, Smith and Jones made a virtue of the 45 minute format by presenting a reasonably small-scale plot, with some big set-piece concepts – trouble was, it was introducing a set of characters that, ultimately, didn’t work.
So, where does Partners in Crime fit in? As probably the most successful opening episode since Rose, in my opinion. As last year, it took a simple-ish plot, though it presented quite an intense load of fast-paced running around, and at time painted on a rather broad canvas. As with School Reunion in 2006, we join the characters as they are already getting into the adventure, so screen-time is not wasted on a “what’s going on?” set-up (unlike, say, The Lazarus Experiment). The plot itself has some subtle dimensions – the villains are ultimately wrong, but the monsters are not at fault, and a lot of people actually benefit from the weight loss. RTD never quite goes into a “fat isn’t necessarily bad” tack as he has elsewhere (Century Falls, for instance, where the central character is the school fat kid), although Donna’s comments about the Doctor being skinny chime in quite well with the rest of the episode.
Ah yes – Donna. Initially I had a horrible feeling that getting Catherine Tate on board for a whole series could be disastrous – nothing against Ms Tate, who deserves recognition as a great performer as well as a comedienne, but because the character threatened to combine the worst of Tegan and Mel. Ouch. But in practice, I think Donna will be a breath of fresh air from younger companions and “I’m in wub wiv ver Doctah” – I’m definitely enjoying the loud and bruising repartee between the two so far, and the mime-led chance meeting between the two was unashamedly hilarious; classically inventive writing from yer man Davies.
But of course both of the smitten former companions will be back later on in the series – though I was not expecting the cameo from Billie Piper at the end, which was an excellent surprise. Although, seeing Rose on screen again, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really missed her very much, and it’s a bit sad that the team only felt it could go for one series without exhuming her. Though it was good to hear Krautrocky the Doomsday theme from Murray Gold re-used as a new motif for Rose – it remains the best ever use of incidental music in Doctor Who.
One niggle: in a development slightly reminiscent of 1985, when a Doctor Who series written with a 6:30 timeslot ended up being broadcast at 5:30 and consequently seemed unsuitably violent for the timeslot, I really think the decision to broadcast at 6:20 meant the skin-stretching scenes were unsuitably grotesque. Worse still, the BBC seem intent on shifting it around the schedules, with a slightly different start time each week. RTD’s concerns about this are wholly justified – ratings will fall, and the risk is that the show will be blamed, not the schedulers.
All told, a pleasant surprise of a first episode: effectively paced, delightfully played by a small cast (Bernard Cribbins was excellent, although his entry in the cast was due to unfortunate circumstances), and an episode that has left me feeling more eager for the next episode than the start of either of the last two series managed. It was also highly amusing to see Doctor Who Confidential cannily edited to avoid naming Jo Frost explicitly; and a gold star to those who spotted the only-slightly-subtly edited-out “fuck off!” from RTD.
