Perpetual Outsider: An Unofficial, Unauthorised Fan Guide To Doctor Who: Vol 4 2005-2012

By John Bensalhia

Volume Four of John Bensalhia's guide to the popular TV series Doctor Who, charting the Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant and Matt Smith eras. Includes story reviews, brief overviews of DVD releases, plus recording and transmission dates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Bensalhia
• Release date: Dec 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301338399

John Bensalhia

John Bensalhia is a freelance writer who has contributed to a wide range of publications and websites including Shadowlocked, Port Strategy, Business Franchise, Making Money, Sports Insight, Italy Magazine, Builders Merchants Journal, Food Magazine and Den Of Geek. John's complete Doctor Who reviews for Shadowlocked have been compiled for inclusion in his book Perpetual Outsider: An Unofficial, Unauthorised Fan Guide To Doctor Who.

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PERPETUAL OUTSIDER – AN UNOFFICIAL, UNAUTHORISED FAN GUIDE TO DOCTOR WHO: Vol 4 2005-2012

Published by John Bensalhia at Smashwords. Copyright 2012 John Bensalhia

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This product is not authorised by the BBC. Doctor Who and TARDIS are trademarks of the BBC.

I would like to thank the following people – Martin Anderson (for giving me the opportunity to write the Doctor Who reviews in the first place for the Shadowlocked website); Luke Connolly, Richard Cosgrove, Jennifer Thomson, Gabriel Ruzin, Caleb Leland and all the other writers at Shadowlocked who have provided support and encouragement; plus all the readers who took the time to say nice things on the comments page about my reviews.

Much love and hugs to my family – my mum and dad Jo and Joe; my sister, brother in law and niece, Emma, Paul and Iris; my mum, dad and brother in-law, Jane, Ken and David; my Grandma, June; my aunts and uncles, Tony, Hilary, Helen and Ted; and my cousin, Mary. To Antoni Olswzeski, my late granddad, you will never be forgotten.

And of course lots of love, hugs and kisses to my lovely wife Alison, who provided support and encouragement throughout putting the reviews and the book together – and for being my eternal rock.

CONTENTS

SEASON TWENTY SEVEN

Fantastic days, the English Rose and Slitheen farts

SEASON TWENTY EIGHT

A new new Doctor, Clique House and the long-lost father of Derek Branning

SEASON TWENTY NINE

The Tennant Tantrum, unrequited lurve and a dastardly Master plan

SEASON THIRTY

The golden age of NuWho, a Noble companion and the almighty Cribbins

THE SPECIALS

The knocks of doom, the burger of death and a million goodbyes

SEASON THIRTY ONE

Cool bow ties, timey wimey cracks and Amy’s relentless SHOUTING

SEASON THIRTY TWO

Killer astronauts, hammy eyepatches and a corporeal TARDIS

SEASON THIRTY THREE AND A HALF

Oswin’s rubbish music, Solomon’s rubbish robots and the threat of rubbish adverts

INTRODUCTION

I can remember my first ever experience of Doctor Who. It was on 3rd September 1977, the day that the 15th season began with Horror Of Fang Rock. Around 6pm-ish, two psychedelic parallel strips gave way to a groovy time tunnel and a blue box travelling forward, which in turn gave way to the inside of a hoover and then a sombre looking curly headed man. It was only as a diamond shaped logo hurtled down a trippy time vortex that I realised that the sequence was accompanied by one of the scariest things that I’d ever heard in my short life. So much so, that the next week when I turned three, I was so worried that the TV would somehow switch itself on that my face was crumpled into a worried frown. My mum still has the photographic evidence of my three-year-old bowl-headed self looking very anxious in front of a birthday cake.

That could have been it for me and Doctor Who – if it wasn’t for the chance glance at City Of Death two years later. Having avoided the title music, I was hooked by this gripping, funny and weird programme that dared to combine Mona Lisas, one-eyed spaghetti heads and bumbling detectives. From then on, Doctor Who became a weekly ritual, and in the early 1980s, school days never seemed quite as bad, given that the show was transmitting in the evenings.

Then that hook snowballed – I borrowed the books from the local library, bought the books from bookshops, bought the magazines, and then the videos and the DVDs. What’s great about Doctor Who is the variety – so many different genres, adventures, monsters, characters – even the minor things such as the costumes and the music vary greatly from story to story. It’s also a programme that relies more on imagination rather than flashy visual effects and gimmicks – even with a bigger budget these days, the show’s core values of good triumphing over evil are still very much present and correct.

In 2009, I approached a website called Den Of Geek to casually enquire if it would be possible to carry on reviewing the remaining 50 episodes of Blake’s 7 – Martin Anderson, the chap who I contacted, agreed (even though I initially got his name wrong), and to my amazement, I actually completed the task. When Martin announced that he was setting up a new website in late 2009, I then considered whether it was do-able doing the same thing with Doctor Who. Review every story from beginning to end – at that time, to be honest; I couldn’t actually see myself completing the project. Either I would lose interest or either readers would get bored of my writing and they’d draft someone else in to do the job – that’s how I imagined the scenario panning out. But even more amazingly, I found myself completing the task again, and more amazingly still, the feedback from readers was actually quite good. Incidentally, check out the website, Shadowlocked, for lots of other cool articles on every sci-fi, fantasy, cartoon and comedy programme and film under the sun.

So the fruits of my labours have been compiled by me into this volume chronicling the Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant and Matt Smith years. In addition to the reviews, I have also included dates for recording and transmission, plus notes on the many books, videos and DVDs of each story.

I hope you enjoy the book – in the meantime, welcome to the wonderful world of Doctor Who!

John Bensalhia

SEASON TWENTY SEVEN

Fantastic days, the English Rose and Slitheen farts

ROSE

TRANSMISSION DATES

First Broadcast: 26th March 2005 (BBC1)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 20th July - 18th October 2004

Studio Recording: 20th August - 10th November 2004

DVD RELEASES

Part of the first vanilla release on 16th May 2005 and then as part of the complete first series box release on 21st November 2005. The complete set was initially released in a great big clunky box which was probably nearly as big as the TARDIS itself, although subsequent re-issues slimmed down the package.

The boxes include cut-down versions of the Confidential episodes, various effects documentaries, wonky camcorder footage from both Russell T Davies and Billie, plus a notably awkward chat with Eccleston on an edition of BBC Breakfast – although I'd be in the same sort of mood if I ever had to appear on that programme. Incidentally, this is about the most you'll get from Eccleston on the DVD special features – regrettably, he's a no-show on all 13 commentaries.

The first one has the main production team in full force – Russell T Davies, Julie Gardner and Phil Collinson can talk for England, and they don't disappoint on this informative track.

REVIEW

Sorry folks, but this review begins with one of those I was there when... anecdotes.

Oddly enough though, it's probably the most terrified I've been when watching Doctor Who, even more than when I was three years old and running out of the room screaming at the title music. No – this time, I was fearful of the much-touted revamp being a complete dog's dinner.

So there I was with my wife Ally, along with our friends Jacqui and Richard. It was, I think, the Saturday of the Easter weekend. We'd heard all about the big, exciting launch of Doctor Who, now bang-up-to-date for a 21st century take on a show that had once been scorned at for being cheap old hat. My expectations were not particularly high, to say the least.

And out of all of us, I was the only Who fan in the building – Ally, Jacqui and Richard had vague memories of Peter Davison and Colin Baker stories, but that was all. So they wanted to see what the fuss was all about – all I could think about was whether we'd be sitting through a wretched 21st century version of Time And The Rani.

But you know what? They all enjoyed it. They liked the new Doctor. They thought that the plot was good, amusing fun. Ally and Jacqui vowed to stay away from shop window dummies for good.

And what do you know, a good chunk of the British population enjoyed it too. About 10 million viewers tuned in, which is a hell of an achievement when you're broadcasting against popular Geordie munchkins Ant And Dec. The hype seemed to have worked, since it was announced in 2003 that Doctor Who was to finally make a big comeback. Compare that with the reaction to the show from BBC controllers and the general public in the late 1980s – that's a gratifyingly big turnaround.

So how did this happen? After the TV Movie fiasco, fans thought the final axe had fallen. With swanky blockbuster films, the fans thought that there was no way that Doctor Who could match up – especially since the Beeb were back to their old tricks and dishing out the usual staple diet of crass, lowest-common-denominator schlock that wouldn't satisfy a class of playgroup kids in a million years.

Interestingly though, the tide was starting to turn in favour of fantasy drama. Not only were shows like Buffy and Angel hugely successful in Britain, there were also big, home-grown films, which were capturing the imaginations of kids everywhere. The most notable example is Harry Potter, a series of films about a raspy-voiced, bulgy-eyed toddler doing battle against a snarly Duncan Goodhew lookalike. Even though they've taken about 191 years to complete, there's no denying that they're a phenomenal success. All of a sudden, programme makers were also slowly catching on to the fact that viewers wanted escapist drama rather than cheap 'n' nasty docusoaps. And by 2003, the BBC realised that they had a potential ratings hit which they'd left down the back of the sofa – with a bit of snazzy updating and the right creative team, it was possible that Doctor Who could become a popular phenomenon again.

Russell T Davies thought so too. Davies had made his name with a string of TV dramas and comedy dramas like Bob And Rose, Queer As Folk and The Second Coming. However, being a huge Who fan, Davies was keen to bring the show back to a brand new audience who had missed out on the antics of the ages-old time traveller. Fortunately, he got his wish, as in September 2003, he was given the green light to produce 13 brand new episodes of Doctor Who.

So here we are, seven-odd years down the line after Rose went out. It's hard to remember what it was like without Who on the telly. Everywhere you look nowadays, Doctor Who seems to be there. Not only on the telly, but on the web, in toy shops, DVD shops, bookshops – heck, I'm surprised that my next door neighbour isn't Doctor Who. Say what you want about RTD's handling of the show (and yes, there are some problems), but thanks to his constant pestering, Doctor Who's seemingly back for good (well at least until his 13th body croaks it, anyway).

Rose itself, then. A story that's theoretically impossible to achieve. Not only does it have to reintroduce The Doctor to a brand new audience, it's got to also relaunch a bit of background (the TARDIS etc), as well as introduce a new companion, her family, and a returning set of monsters. Oh, and it's also got to tell a story, too.

Furthermore, it has to do so in 45 minutes. Modern-day dramas normally tend to tell their stories in three quarters of an hour. That's just the way it goes these days. There's more of an emphasis on telling quickfire stories rather than dwelling too heavily on talky background infodumps. Doctor Who will largely follow this trend, although there will be about three two-part stories, which equate to the four parters in the old days.

Rose sets out the stall straight away for this new faster style of storytelling. There are what seem to be about a thousand different shots in the first minute alone, as the camera coolly pans from deep space to a close-up of the planet Earth before hurtling at a million miles an hour into the planet before reaching a bleary-eyed Rose in her bedroom. Cue several fast cuts of an average day in Rose's life. Gets up. Says goodbye to her mum. Goes to a thankless job at a department store. Breaks for lunch. Larks around with her goofy boyfriend, Mickey. Back to work. Gets bored. 5.00. All of that background told in the space of a minute – that's actually very clever storytelling, relying on fast visual images that manage to throw some light onto Rose's rather mundane life.

It's this sense of the mundane that tends to run through the new run of Doctor Who stories, particularly in the first series. It's a double-edged sword. On the one hand, The Doctor shows Rose a life that's anything but mundane, taking her to far-away planets and showing her new life-forms and lifestyles. We frequently visit Earth in the first season, reinforcing how much Rose prefers her new, exciting and dangerous adventures. By the time Parting Of The Ways comes around, this is the ultimate slap in the face. The very humdrum existence that a lot of people seem to go through contrasts sharply with the Dalek battle – not only that, but Rose ultimately learns to realise that just making do and letting things happen aren't the ways to go.

By contrast, The Doctor, at times, seems to be jealous of this mundane life. He seems to appreciate - or wish for - the smaller things in life, like meeting the future wife at 2.00 in the morning (Father's Day) or having a simple, sit-down meal with all the trimmings (The Empty Child). Right from the word go, Davies shows us two very different sides of everyday life. Yes, it may be mundane at times, but there are also lots of small, beautiful little things that make it special.

With the scattergun approach in mind, Davies thankfully doesn't tread the same path as the TV Movie, which demanded that you knew all about regeneration, Daleks, the Time Lords and Who culture. It just launches bang into the action. There's no regeneration scene. The first we see of the Ninth Doctor is a close-up of his hand, before telling Rose to Run! from a gaggle of Autons. There's an oblique nod to his new incarnation, as he quickly studies his reflection in the mirror, and muses on his new ears – but it's glossed over in less than five seconds.

Over the course of the next few seasons though, we get plenty more background on The Doctor. Davies tells the story of The Doctor in a measured way, gradually throwing up random details such as the death of Gallifrey, his feud with the Daleks or his past lives and friends. In the first story though, The Doctor is an enigma, a mystery man with a blue box who appears and disappears throughout history. Newcomers will learn that he's an alien with a fantastic spaceship that looks like a Police Box, but is bigger on the inside than on the out. That's pretty much it – much like An Unearthly Child, the character called The Doctor is a difficult one to read – breezy and chirpy one minute (Hello!), morose the next (Go home, Rose Tyler!), and also mysterious (the speech in which he describes the world turning and how he can feel it).

Welcome to the new Doctor, Christopher Eccleston. It seems so long ago that he was The Doctor, given that both David Tennant and Matt Smith seem to be more ubiquitous. Eccleston decided to only do one season, which is a shame, since we don't really get to see his journey (ugh) so much. For want of a better phrase, this incarnation is Damaged goods. In keeping with the show's back-to-basics return, the new Doctor's appearance and demeanour are more minimalist. There's none of the eccentric clothing – no ties, bow ties, scarves or waistcoats – just a black leather jacket, trews and jumper, which, coupled with his often surly manner, make him resemble an angry debt collector at six in the morning.

The new Doctor's no-nonsense attitude is quickly established in the first episode. He evidently doesn't have much time for human relationships at this time in his life. He abruptly dashes Jackie Tyler's hopes of a crafty morning snog. He has little time for Mickey, and is callously unmoved by the fact that he might be dead. And he's also prone to making angry snap judgements about Stupid apes (That's us humans, in case, you didn't realise). Battle-scarred and bullish, this isn't a Doctor that suffers fools gladly – in fact he'd probably lift them by the scruff of the neck and throw them down an empty elevator shaft.

Mind you, The Doctor does have a more gleefully comic side, although at this point, it's more by accident than design. He keeps bounding onto the scene like he doesn't belong there, whether it's in Rose's department store or at the front door of her flat. When he does try to be funny, it seems a lot more forced – take the way in which he initially bids Rose farewell. He waves with the disembodied Auton arm, but when his back's turned, he's got a face like thunder, as he contemplates ridding the planet of the dreaded Autons.

Christopher Eccleston generally does well as the new Doctor, although like his character, he's evidently more comfortable with meaty drama than with comedy. There are some moments when he does well, such as with his awkward mooching around Rose's flat or when he's desperately trying to free himself from the attacking Auton arm. But sometimes he does have a tendency to gurn like a loon – count the amount of times in the season that he pulls that face which makes him look like Bruce Forsyth in the aftermath of a visit to a military barber shop.

Fortunately, he does very well with the dramatic side of the role. He makes for a commanding presence when he's facing off against the Nestene Consciousness (I AM TALKING!), but just as effective are his quieter moments, such as when he matter-of-factly replies to Rose's questions in the TARDIS. Altogether, despite the less convincing comedic moments, Eccleston's début is spot on.

Billie Piper was just as important, since many times, we see the adventures unfolding through Rose's eyes. At the time of her casting, there was some disquiet over her teenybop, bubblegum pop background – although Honey To The Bee is oddly catchy. In fact though, Piper proved to be the surprise success of the season, showing off her acting chops in stories such as Father's Day and the season finale. Piper adds a lot of infectious charm to Rose – well, for this season at least. The Rose of the first season is smart, funny, down to earth, and relentlessly loyal to her new friend. That's all the ingredients you need for a good companion, and Rose has these qualities in spades. Quite why the programme makers would later turn the character into a smug, possessive pain is a huge mystery, but at least for this season, Rose quickly earns her place as one of the all-time great companions.

We also get two other notable additions to the ranks. Jackie and Mickey at this point are no more than stereotyped clichés. Jackie's the sort of woman who you'd either catch in the audience of The Jeremy Kyle Show or dancing round her handbag to I Will Survive in a ropey old dive while swilling copious amounts of Lambrini. Mickey, on the other hand, is the rubbish boyfriend – a cowardly wimp who makes Shaggy from Scooby Doo seem like He-Man by comparison. Forever blundering about moaning and whinging, while walking like a duck on acid, Mickey clearly can't hold a candle to The Doctor in Rose's eyes. Mind you, she obviously doesn't think much of him anyway, since she doesn't even notice that he changes into a Lazytown character halfway through the story.

Camille Coduri and Noel Clarke are still excellent choices – well, in the long term at least. At this point, they're not really given much to work with. Coduri makes a great start though – I'd always remembered her as Faith from Nuns On The Run, but her character here is sufficiently different, and as we'll see in the future, there's a great deal of hidden depth to Jackie, who ultimately becomes one of the mainstays of the era. Noel Clarke's first performance is a bit OTT at times, whether he's scowling furiously in his car or doing silly comedy walks, but he'll get a lot better in the future and contribute much to the big success of Mickey.

No other important characters of note, apart from the bumbling Clive, the stereotypical Who nerd, who despite pottering around in his dingy memorabilia shed, still has a wife and a kid. Clive is very much the lone believer, the man who has faith in The Doctor's crazy paving life – ironically, this comes back to haunt him as he finds himself on the receiving end of an Auton thunderbolt. It's a good cameo from Mark Benton, which kick-starts the trend for lots of big name guest star appearances.

The Autons themselves are well realised, although maybe not as spooky as in Spearhead From Space. There are a lot of visual nods to that story, most notably the opening sequence homage and the scene in which they go on the rampage in a shopping mall. Fortunately, the Nestene Consciousness looks a lot better than the rubber octopus or the white video effects blob as in the early 1970s.

The production values are excellent, and the story has a glossy, high-budget feel that makes it look like a mini feature film. So many well-judged and well executed shots, including the pans/cross fades from Earth and a dustbin through to Rose's alarm clock; the Nestene Consciousness; the shot of The Doctor outside the London Eye, and that lovely shot of The Doctor and Rose running along the streets of London, holding hands. Keith Boak's direction is generally fine, although there are some odd choices, such as the weird close-up of Jackie screaming unconvincingly at an advancing Auton. Visually though, Rose successfully brings Doctor Who into the 21st century – there's very little to criticise about the production.

Same generally goes for the script, which while lightweight, manages to tell a good, coherent story while reintroducing The Doctor to a new audience. Some bits don't quite work: The burping wheelie bin is the sort of thing you'd find on a Dick And Dom TV show, Jackie and Mickey are rather crass comedy buffoons, and the Autons are a bit of an easily-defeated menace. All that happens is that Rose does an impression of Tarzan while knocking a vial of anti-plastic into the angry Consciousness. Not a particularly great denouement to the story, and worse still, it starts the trend of making anyone but The Doctor save the day.

Another notable problem is Murray Gold's score. Amazingly, I actually quite like some of Gold's musical contributions to the show, but more often than not, the scores are too loud, too brash, too inappropriate and too domineering (And don't even get me started on Murray's Pompous Choir, which I'm going to have to talk about from Dalek onwards). A common complaint is that there's simply too much music, which kind of bullies the audience into feeling a particular emotion. Sad? Cue lots of slushy strings and pompous choirs going Aaaahhh. Excited? Lots of big bass drums and violent orchestration. Annoyed? Yeah, that's some fans who actually want to listen to what's going on without being deafened by Gold's relentless histrionics. That said, the title music arrangement's pretty good, with a faithful nod to the original arrangement – much like the titles, which take inspiration from the time tunnel of the Tom Baker stories. Not quite sure about the new logo, which looks like an elongated novelty boomerang.

All told though, Rose is a triumph. It manages to launch a new era of Doctor Who with huge confidence, style and wit. The new leads have the makings of being a strong Doctor/Companion team. And best of all, it's thoughtful, well-crafted storytelling that manages to be accessible to people who hadn't really followed Doctor Who before. And it'll always bring back happy memories of that night in March 2005, when my wife and our friends thoroughly enjoyed it too. Good times.

THE END OF THE WORLD

TRANSMISSION DATES

First Broadcast: 2nd April 2005 (BBC1)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 6th October - 9th November 2004

Studio Recording: 7th September 2004 - 18th February 2005

DVD RELEASES

Part of the 16th May 2005 no frills release and the bonus-laden 21st November 2005 box set. Phil Collinson's back for the boxed commentary alongside an obvious choice (given the effects heavy story), Will Cohen.

REVIEW

First dates – we've all been there. The sweaty palms. The uncertainty. The paranoia. Get the first date right, and you feel like you're on top of the world. Get it wrong, and it makes you feel like the entire population of couples are laughing in your face.

So spare a thought for the poor old Doctor, as he prepares to take Rose on their first date – well, Rose says as much in New Earth, but oddly, it's not really a date that he should remember with fondness, given that he makes screw-up after screw-up in The End Of The World. Consider the following rules:

* Don't brag about your mode of transport

The only sort of girl who would fall for this bravado would be the type that gatecrashes every Top Gear filming session or has a glittering shrine to afro-headed goon Clarkson. The Doctor, however, is keen to show off his amazing time/space machine, furiously working the pump (yes, the new console apparently works with a quaint old pump) to take her to any destination she desires. Although technically he decides the time and place for her.

* Don't do embarrassing Dad Dancing

Save the embarrassing dancing for much later down the line. Blokes (like me) who have no dancing ability whatsoever should just stand on the edge of the dance floor and try to look cool. The Doctor, however, starts jigging about to hoary old '80s New Romantic ditty Tainted Love by Soft Cell – in his mind, he's a dancer of Strictly proportions, but in reality, he looks like a constipated gnu.

* Don't yell at your date

Whatever the reason, yelling at your girl will make you look like a

psychopath – even if she asks you why you hate Take That, bite your tongue.

The Doctor, on the other hand, chooses to launch into a furious, red-faced tirade after Rose has dared to ask him a simple question about his background – not exactly the most unreasonable subject of conversation. THIS IS WHO I AM, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, ALRIGHT??!! bellows The Doctor. ALL THAT COUNTS IS HERE AND NOW, AND THIS IS ME!! This isn't the action of a sane man, more a closet axe-wielding, homicidal lunatic. In an ordinary world, after a rant like that, the date would pop to the loo and escape through the window.

* Don't go off with another woman

Or in this case, a talking tree. Still, even if you have some weird tree fetish, this is not fair game. Worse still, if your date's new rival has just suggested that the original's a concubine or a prostitute, this is the ultimate insult. So good on you, Doctor, for going off with a shameless hussy of a tree.

* Don't take her on such a high-risk date

Normally, people go on first dates to a restaurant. Or the pictures. A worst-case scenario may be a spot of paintballing for the more devil-may-care. But taking your date to see the world explode into tiny, flaming fragments, and worse still, letting her be captured and put in a room that's about to be burnt to ash, isn't a good idea.

Still, Rose amazingly has the patience of Mother Theresa, Sister Wendy and Ghandi combined to put up with such a useless first date as The Doctor. She even agrees to buy him chips at the end after he's done his big sob story about his planet getting destroyed. Ah well, it's all a learning curve for the poor sod, who's starting to find his place in the world again after the huge catastrophe.

Fortunately, The End Of The World itself isn't as catastrophic. In fact, it builds on and adds to the success of Rose. To the uninitiated, this must have been a hell of a shock. Those who had never heard of Doctor Who may have heard the odd whisper about alien races, but in The End Of The World, there's not one alien race, but a whole menagerie of them. Apart from the tree people, we have creatures such as the Moxx Of Balhoon – a diminutive, fussy, blue grump (solicitor-wise, this makes sense); the Adherents Of The Repeated Meme; the Face Of Boe – looking like a giant, pickled head of Maxi Priest in an overgrown jam jar; and Cassandra, a vain, bitchy piece of skin who's been remade more times than A Christmas Carol.

It may be a shock to the system after the Earthbound setting of Rose, but The End Of The World's audacity pays off. Doctor Who has always been about imagination and creativity, and The End Of The World lets the brain run riot. All of the alien races work well in their own ways, and furthermore, they are superbly realised – a good example of the higher budgets allocated to the show. Rather than grunting, clichéd aliens, a good number of the aliens have their own personalities. Jabe is kind, compassionate, slightly flirty, and makes for a good sub-companion. Cassandra is mean, bitchy and superficial. Even the lesser characters have a lot of character packed into their limited lifespans. Take the Steward, the outwardly calm guide to the party – inwardly, he's a neurotic wreck, flustering about any given problem like a man on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He also shares the same character trait with perky maintenance worker, Raffalo, in that he's rather humble. He's delighted and flattered to be given the present of a futuristic egg, even if it turns out to be an object that leads to his untimely demise.

Raffalo is another interesting character in that she only gets one scene, but within those three minutes, we learn quite a bit about her personality. She's also humble – flattered to be talked to by Rose. She's low down in the pecking order, given that she needs permission to talk. And there's also a lot of down-to-earth gravitas – Rose is surprised that she's a maintenance worker (I hope so, else I'm out of a job!). Already, we have signs that Russell T Davies isn't interested in portraying aliens as stereotypical blobby, grunting monsters, but as ordinary people like us. That's a sharp tack to take, and in this story, the plan works brilliantly.

Cassandra, of course, is the polar opposite to the Steward and Raffalo. She stands – or stretches – for everything that's wrong in society, in other words an obsession with superficial prizes, wealth and looks. There's certain celebrities (I'm not mentioning any names, but I'm sure you can guess) who stand by these aspects, and it's not hard to equate them with Cassandra, the bitchy trampoline. It's somewhat inevitable that Cassandra is responsible for the murders and sabotage aboard the Space Station, since she's acting on purely financial gains: she plans to profit from the guests' competitors once they're dead. Just like stories in the original run like The Sun Makers or Horror Of Fang Rock, greedy financial gain is equated with the evil that men or women do.

Cassandra's obsession with cosmetic surgery also highlights another recurring theme in this season. Cue doomy music: Death.

Death is everywhere you look in this season. The death of The Doctor's planet. The death of Rose's dad. The wholesale slaughter in the season finale. There are even brief nods in stories like Boom Town (the prospect of Margaret's execution) and even in uplifting classic The Empty Child (during which Dr Constantine grimly muses on his dead family). The key to all this is that, as The Doctor himself says: Everything has its time and everything dies. Cassandra doesn't fit this ideal, since she's nipped and tucked everything to the point where she's no longer recognisable as a human. You're just skin Cassandra, says Rose during a heated discussion. Lipstick and skin.

Some commentators have said that The Doctor's callous in allowing Cassandra to die, but I think this underlines his Damaged goods mentality. In a sense, it's the point at which he finally acknowledges the death of his own planet – up until this point, he's been keeping his feelings in check to the point where he's a seething cauldron of rage. The Doctor deliberately doesn't help, since he leaves the fate of Cassandra purely to chance – a bit like the scene in Planet Of Fire when he left The Master to die in flames. After Cassandra's death, he finally opens up to Rose, explaining that his planet was destroyed in a mysterious war. At this point, the story of the Time War is kept ambiguous – we don't hear who the battle was against, how it was started or what caused the final truce. It's another good example of telling a slow-burning story in stages, but it does shed some light on the Ninth Doctor's moody persona.

This is a good one for Eccleston actually. There's plenty of great material for him here, which allows him to use a wide range of emotions. He's better at the light-hearted stuff, interestingly, such as his evident delight at meeting the alien delegates. But he's just as good in his more serious moments – the silent scene in which Jabe comforts him over the death of Gallifrey is particularly well acted by Eccleston, all the more impressive in that he doesn't get any dialogue. The grief-stricken expression and the lone tear do the job well enough.

Billie Piper too, continues to impress. The End Of The World is seen again, at times, through Rose's eyes. It's interesting in that in the past, most companions have just taken new environments at face value. But Rose is over-awed and confused by this great big jolt in her life. She's stunned by the alien races, and shocked at the fact that her new so-called friend has been messing about with her brain. That initial dizzy spell, as Rose feels overpowered, is very well shot – the fast, drunken cuts between the alien races and the louder volume of the Soft Cell track convey what Rose is feeling perfectly. Piper herself though just gets better and better – she proves to be adept at both the light-hearted scenes (Where am I gonna go – Ipswich?) and the dramatic ones (her furious confrontation with Cassandra), making Rose into a fleshed out, three dimensional person rather than a screaming cipher.

There's an awful lot to pack into this story – it's a story that might have gained more from being a two-parter, since it does feel a bit rushed. The murder mystery aspect of the story doesn't come through as well as it could, partly because the identity of the baddie is so obvious, but partly because the 45-minute format doesn't really allow for so many red herrings or detours, so we get a rather limp attempt. The actual end of the world also feels incidental, but I think this was a deliberate move to have this in the background. The destruction of the planet has become a show rather than a tragic event, and if you were so inclined, you could argue that there's an environmental message to be had here – especially when the planet's slowly and quietly being destroyed by chemicals and pollution without anyone realising it. Equate that with the ignorance of the exploding Earth.

Blimey, I've been listening to too many Sting albums.

Apart from one or two other nitpicks, this is a strong follow-up script from Davies. One grumble is that the layout and design of the ship seem to have no regard for logic. For some odd reason, the rooms have sun filters in them, which means that the inhabitants are living in a potential death-trap. Even if the metal spider hadn't activated the sun filter, the Steward could still have had a dumb moment and accidentally spilled coffee on the button, causing it to malfunction, and frying the hapless scamp to a crisp. It's a bit like designing a chair with an optional dagger in the rear of the seat. Ditto the safety switch, which is conveniently located behind whopping great fans, which would hack any average Joe into fish sticks. Who actually built the station, Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel?

Otherwise, the story barrels along at a fair old pace, mixing the drama, comedy and poignancy (Rose's phone call to her long-dead mother) to great effect. It's a visual tour-de-force too, with some excellent visuals from director Euros Lyn, who would go on to become one of the show's most assured directors. There are many great images to choose from, so take your pick from the impressive space shots, the cool interiors or the skewed camera angles, such as the dizzying establishing shot of the trapped Rose. On the subject of which, the pop songs are surprisingly effective – both 'Tainted Love' and 'Toxic' by Britney Spears are generally regarded as lightweight pop fluff, but thanks to the visuals, they become unusually discomforting. I'm not normally a fan of the crass inclusion of pop songs, but in the right context, they work.

Good guest performances on display too. Zoe Wanamaker is well chosen as the bitchy Cassandra, although to be honest, I think the character's just a one-time deal, since the joke isn't nearly as effective the second time around in New Earth (which also reduces the effect of her surprisingly graphic demise at the end of this story). Yasmin Bannerman provides good support as Jabe, and the smaller roles are just as well performed, including Simon Day's twitchy turn as the Steward and Beccy Armory's memorable cameo as poor old Raffalo.

This is a reboot that's already showing a great deal of promise, and that's just at story two. Although the visuals may be more lavish and the format's slightly different, it's the same old show with the usual core values at its heart. Russell T Davies evidently knows what makes Doctor Who work inside and out, and this is evident in his masterful script for The End Of The World. The Doctor may not know about the etiquette of dating, but he's evidently starting to find his way around the world again, thanks to his new friend Rose and a new lease of life for adventure.

THE UNQUIET DEAD

TRANSMISSION DATES

First Broadcast: 9th April 2005 (BBC1)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 19th September - 20th October 2004

Studio Recording: 23rd September and 22nd October 2004

DVD RELEASES

The last of the first vanilla volume (16th May 2005) and also part of the complete box set (21st November 2005). Simon Callow waxes lyrical about his time on the show alongside writer Mark Gatiss and director Euros Lyn for the commentary.

REVIEW

If there's one season that The Doctor likes, well it's got to be Christmas. Ever since the show was brought back in 2005, it seems like he's always landing in some festive utopia where Noddy Holder shrieks his innards out, or where brass bands fart along to 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen'.

Given that I'm a modern-day Scrooge, this is baffling. The Doctor's only done the Easter landing once (to my knowledge), he seems to give Pancake Day a miss, and more to the point, he blanks Halloween and Bonfire Night, two bonafide opportunities to meet scary monsters. Seems that only robot Santas and killer Christmas trees will do.

Oh, and vengeful gas creatures, as witnessed in the second Christmas episode of Doctor Who called The Unquiet Dead. For those who are new to this Who lark, I should point out that this isn't a Christmas special, since it originally went out in April. After 1965's Feast Of Steven instalment of The Daleks' Master Plan, Doctor Who decided to turn to that tried and tested setting of Victorian Britain for festive inspiration. Makes sense – for one thing, Doctor Who's always won great acclaim with period drama of this age – The Talons Of Weng-Chiang, Horror Of Fang Rock and Ghost Light are cases in point.

A reason for this is that the BBC always hit the nail on the head with these sorts of dramas. The classic Sunday night serials (as helmed by Uncle Terrance and Barry Letts) were phenomenally successful in their time, as were the billions of period dramas produced in the 1990s and early 2000s, all of which seemed to feature Alison Steadman shrieking gormlessly in a frilly pinafore.

The Unquiet Dead carries on this tradition with sumptuous production values. It's a visual treat with authentic designs, costumes and little touches like period newspapers and ornaments. The whole thing looks like one of those Christmas cards depicting a snowy Victorian street full of toffs and toffettes gathering round a Christmas tree in the middle of a town square. Maybe the only complaint with this is that it's too clean. Talons and Horror, while taking a romantic view of the era to a point, also looked at the grimy side of the coin. Talons included toothless beggars, prostitutes and nunchuck-waving gangs, while Horror featured a small gang of unsympathetic poshos, who seemed to think that their money and status could somehow make them immune from the green tentacles of the Rutan.

By contrast, there's nothing like that in The Unquiet Dead. Take the character of huge-sideburned undertaker Gabriel Sneed. In theory, he's a seedy piece of work, whether he's ignoring walking corpses (in the name of money of course) or being a bit of a dirty old perv (Rose yells at him for putting his hands where he shouldn't, and god alone knows what's going on between him and Gwyneth). However, Sneed is more of a comedy oaf rather than a grimy character study. Alan David's performance as Sneed is perfectly acceptable, but it's played more for laughs than gritty realism. Same goes for the whole of the story – everything has that innocent chocolate box feel to it. Which is fine – at the end of the day, you're trying to pack in as many plot strands as you can into 45 minutes. Gritty portrayals can't really enter the equation, since there's not enough time, and besides which, today's PC rules are stricter. But for those who prefer their Who with a harder edge, The Unquiet Dead isn't the place to look.

The Unquiet Dead does, however, offer plenty of interesting character studies. Two of the guest characters are particularly well catered for: Gwyneth, and of course, Charles Dickens. This story kick starts the tradition of The Doctor meeting a famous figure from the past, who somehow becomes entwined in the evil machinations of an alien force. Dickens is one of the most successful historical celebrities (at least, compared to the crass portrayal of Liam Shakespeare in The Shakespeare Code), and he's given quite a bit of subtle depth.

When we first meet him, Dickens is at an all-time low ebb. As he says himself, he has been rather clumsy with family matters. We don't really dwell on this estrangement, but the first scene with Dickens sets the scene. A man who's tired with his lot (On and on I go, the same old show) and seems to be trapped in a 'what does it all mean' mid-life crisis (I'm like a ghost – condemned to repeat myself for all eternity). He's also very much stuck in his ways, initially refusing to acknowledge the Gelth invasion as fact, and passing this off as some phantasmagoria.

However, during the course of the story, we see him become a changed man, embracing the spirit of adventure and even helping to save the day, when he realises that the Gelth are affected by gas – he extinguishes the gas lights and turns the gas up to maximum. By the end of the story, he's discovered a brand new zest for life, planning to make amends with his family, and altering the ending of The Mystery Of Edwin Drood. The last shot of the story features Dickens laughing and shouting God bless us, everyone! It's rather poignant, given that he dies the next year – but it does highlight one important character trait of The Doctor. He manages to bring out the best in people that he meets, whether it's Dickens, Mickey, Cathica or the occupants of Satellite Five. Initially these characters are either wallowing in their own stupidity, cowardice or sadness, but when they meet The Doctor, they recognise their failings, take them on the chin and then look through The Doctor's eyes at the world.

As Rose later says, people who meet The Doctor make a stand and refuse to say no, whether they're battling with monsters or their own demons. Charles Dickens is one of the most successful examples of this idea, thanks to both skilled writing from Mark Gatiss and a superlative performance from Simon Callow, an inspired bit of casting that proved that Doctor Who still had pulling power when it came to asking famous actors and actresses to appear in the series.

Another well-defined character is Gwyneth, initially an unassuming slip of a girl, who's been blessed – or cursed (however you look at it) with the second sight. She's given a surprising amount of background and depth, especially in the unusually long two-hander between her and Rose. She's initially portrayed as a bit of a simple innocent, apparently happy with her lot, her paltry pay and the thankless job of working for Sneed. However, things get a bit more mysterious when she sees into Rose's mind. It's interesting in that the viewer isn't meant to sympathise with Rose's modern views. In fact, Gwyneth shows them up for what they are: All those people rushing about half-naked for shame. And the noise. And the metal boxes racing past. And the birds in the sky – no, they're metal as well! There's something in Gwyneth's tone of voice that suggests that all this progress has led to a polluted, greedy, brash society, which in a way is far more backward than the comparatively innocent age that the wide-eyed servant lives in.

Rose's status as a 21st century gal also leads to her making pre-conceived opinions about Gwyneth. She takes it upon herself to make decisions for her, such as when she protests that she can't make the link with the Gelth. At which point Gwyneth says: That's very clear inside your head miss, that you think I'm stupid. Rose splutters in protest, but Gwyneth's second sight gives her an insight into how Rose thinks that because she's from the future, she knows better. Again, excellent scripting, which makes her final sacrifice quite touching. Eve Myles delivers a strong performance, even though she pulls that constant wide-eyed expression of someone who's just sat on a very loud whoopee cushion.

Gwyneth's sacrifice is another example of how someone else saves the day apart from The Doctor. We've already seen this in Rose and The End Of The World, but what's interesting about the portrayal of The Doctor in this story is that he's much more gullible than normal. Given that The Gelth are so obviously bad guys, it's surprising that The Doctor takes their request for help at face value. It's possibly a feeling of guilt, given that we get another reference to the mysterious Time War (surely from this point, given the amount of future references to this, The Doctor should always say Let's do The Time War again). This battle-scarred Doctor, who's seen countless races destroyed by the conflict, is so eager to give aliens the benefit of the doubt to the point where he's blinded to the possibility that they may have hostile intentions.

Not only is he more abrasive than usual (he effectively tells Dickens to bog off at one point after the spluttering scribe has refused to acknowledge the presence of aliens, not to mention his angry rebuke to Rose who quite rightly is more cautious of the Gelth), The Doctor's also a bit more helpless than usual. Apart from giving the Gelth safe passage (and causing more needless death), he manages to get himself locked in a dungeon. At which point he laments his own carelessness by recounting his past triumphs including seeing the fall of Troy and World War Five. My rubbish hearing meant that I thought he initially also said that he pushed boxes of The Boston Tea Party – conjuring up images of The Doctor on a Salford market stall in 1976, trying to flog scratched copies of The Sensational Alex Harvey Band classic.

But this story is where he's slowly starting to fall for Rose's charms. During the dungeon scene, he grabs hold of her hand and whispers I'm so glad I met you! in her lughole. And all this after he's admired her change of clothing, saying that she looks beautiful – for a human being, of course. Well, this is the 21st century, so times change – and indeed, Rose does bring out the best in The Doctor. She challenges him and gives as good as she gets, but also appeals to his compassionate side. And when this incarnation has been mentally scarred by the ordeal of The Time War, this must come as something of a blessed relief.

Still, all this lurve stuff is still to come. In the meantime, why not savour the delights of this little masterpiece? Mark Gatiss' script is both well-constructed, and manages to pack an awful lot into its short timeframe. The characters are well rounded, both main and guest, and what's more, Gatiss knows how to scare kids. The previous two adventures had been a little wussy when glossing over the deaths of Clive, The Steward and Jabe (although Cassandra's gloriously brutal 'death' redressed the balance a bit), but The Unquiet Dead offers an army of ghostly zombies, who aren't averse to snapping necks like twigs. The death of Sneed is quite graphic, especially when compared to the first Matt Smith season's dislike of brutal murders – I like the way in which we cut quickly from this to Sneed's glassy-eyed corpse rising from the ground, and joining the ranks of the Gelth. The possessed corpses are highly memorable, and probably quite unsettling for the kids – especially the pre-credits teaser in which we zoom into Mrs Peace's screaming face.

There's also a lot of good humour on display here, especially the banter between The Doctor and Dickens. That scene in the carriage in which The Doctor proclaims himself to be a fan results in lots of fast and furious one-liners which work brilliantly (In what way do you resemble a means of keeping oneself cool? asks a baffled Dickens). This is probably Gatiss' most accomplished script to date, managing an equal balance of excitement, funny lines and scares for the kids.

The Unquiet Dead carries on the quality trend of the season, with a story that makes the most of its limited 45 minutes. It looks marvellous with more well-realised direction from Euros Lyn (who proves to be just as adept at making period drama as well as futuristic sci-fi capers), and really takes you back in time to a crisp Victorian Christmas. Maybe they should have saved this one for a future Christmas special, but it's still a good example of the strength of the new revival's début season.

ALIENS OF LONDON/WORLD WAR THREE

TRANSMISSION DATES

First Broadcast: 16th - 23rd April 2005 (BBC1)

RECORDING DATES

Location Filming: 18th July - 24th November 2004

Studio Recording: 20th August - 22nd November 2004

DVD RELEASES

The two-parter was part of the second vanilla release, which came out on 13th June 2005. There's a bit of a layering problem with some copies of the box set, meaning that there's skipping problems for the World War Three episode.

Two of the Slitheen recall their experiences alongside various production personnel – David Verrey's in the commentary booth for Aliens with Julie Gardner and Will Cohen, while Annette Badland takes over for the WW3 episode with Helen Raynor, the script editor and Phil Collinson. Collinson incidentally reveals how the PM in the cupboard was meant to resemble a very familiar face at the time of transmission…

REVIEW

The first, and maybe rather incidental grumble about the first two parter of the 21st century revival of Who (the equivalent of a four-part story) is that it's a bit of a mouthful. It's easy enough to say, "Did you see The Deadly Assassin? but try saying Did you see Aliens Of London slash World War Three? Nonsense, isn't it? If they ever re-release the post-2005 stories separately on DVD, there'll be problems. Say that this story gets re-released in 2025 with remastered running Slitheen and an all-new commentary with the remote control kid, the bloke who moans about Livingstone and the Oy gawjus, come back and join duh party" girl – you'll need a magnifying glass to read the title down the spine.

So for practical reasons, I'll refer to the story as Aliens Three – just don't get it confused with the 1992 film sequel. It's more of a compact way of summing up the story anyway, since the plot chiefly revolves around three blobby aliens masquerading as giggling politicians. Yes, the Slitheen, a race who have, by all accounts, not enjoyed the most rapturous of welcomes. This is possibly because Aliens Three itself has had mixed reviews from the fans (basically a polite way of saying that a fair number don't like it). Me, I quite enjoy it – I can see where it's coming from with its satirical take on world events, politics and media manipulation – the problem is, it's constantly tripping over its great big, clod-hopping feet with silly toilet humour, fart gags