The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith

Chapter the 320th, where we imbibe a little Tennant extra. 

Plot:

Sarah Jane Smith's adopted son Luke wonders what his Mum is up to after she lies about where she's going a couple of times. He has Mr. Smith the computer track her. It turns out that she's dating handsome silver fox Peter Dalton. A few weeks go by, when Luke, Clyde and Rani have to hide a few extra-terrestrial shenanigans from Peter. He then proposes, and Sarah Jane says yes. The engagement ring once on her finger seems to exert a power over her: she mothballs Mr. Smith, and focusses on the arrangements for a wedding in less than two weeks' time, rather than on saving the world. Luke is very happy, but Clyde is suspicious. He and Rani go to Peter's house and find it empty, with evidence that it has not been lived in for some time. On the day of the wedding, Clyde smuggles K9 into the venue. The guests sit, the bridal party arrives, and Sarah Jane walks to the front to join the officiating registrar and Peter. Before anyone can say 'I do', the Doctor rushes in to stop the wedding. The Trickster appears and most of the wedding party disappears. Sarah Jane and Peter are trapped in one space/time trap, the Doctor, kids and K9 in another, in the same place but stuck in a different second of time. The Trickster uses the others as hostages to coerce Sarah Jane to agree to wed Peter. This has been arranged by the Trickster to make Sarah Jane turn her back on protecting the Earth and plunge things into chaos; Peter should have died some weeks back in his home, but the Trickster intercepted him at that point; Peter thinks the Trickster is an angel and was tempted by a chance to find love. With artron energy that Clyde absorbs from the TARDIS, plus Peter's self-sacrifice, the trap is broken, and the Trickster banished.

Context:

As usual when straying a tad beyond the strict boundaries of Who canon, I asked myself a set of questions about this Sarah Jane Adventures story. Does it star the Doctor? Yes. Does it have visuals? Yes. Was it released as an official Doctor Who or official spin-off story (i.e. its not an unofficial fan-made proposition)? Yes. Is there a dramatic context to the story (i.e. it's not just a skit)? Yes. Was it released with the intention of being the main attraction for audience engagement (i.e. it's not just an extra on a DVD or Blu-ray)? Yes. Have I already covered it in passing with another connected story? No. With a full house of correct answers, the decision was made to blog the story. Despite the evidence of this blog over the years making it look like I'm an obsessive completist, I have never ever purchased any of the Sarah Jane Adventures home video releases, so I had no choice but to watch this from the BBC iplayer. I couldn't interest the Better Half or the kids in such a curio, so watched it alone one afternoon towards the end of January 2025.

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. Beyond the handful of blog posts like this one that cover notable spin-offs, I have completed seven Doctors' televisual eras proper (the fourth, seventh, eighth, ninth, eleventh, twelfth and fourteenth Doctors) and 33 out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3-5, 7, 8, 10-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 1, 2, 4-11, 13 and 14).

First Time Round:

2009 was Doctor Who's first so-called gap year since it had relaunched for the 21st century. The previous four years from the relaunch in 2005 onwards had each seen a full series of 13 episodes plus a Christmas special aired, but that momentum couldn't be - or at least wasn't - maintained. It later became a much less big of a deal that Doctor Who wasn't being shown much or at all in a particular year; for this first time, though, those that made the programme clearly felt they had to do something extra. At that point, of course, a couple of Doctor Who scripted spin-offs were in production (see Deeper Thoughts section below for more on this). They and the main show did a few special things to span the year, so that Who or Who-related content didn't disappear for that long: an Easter special episode of Doctor Who was shown in April, Torchwood's third series was a big event with its episodes stripped across a week of BBC1 broadcasts in July, the third season of The Sarah Jane Adventures had a guest appearance from David Tennant as the Doctor in October, then more special episodes of the main show followed in November and in the festive period at the end of the year. Broadcasting in a children's TV slot, and airing just before bigger and more memorable episodes like The Waters of Mars and The End of Time, The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith was the easiest to miss and probably the most forgettable even if you didn't miss it. I can't remember that first viewing with any clarity, but it would have likely been with the Better Half, watching the episodes from a PVR recording made while I was at work. I don't think that either of our then only two children were old enough to appreciate the show (they were three years old and two months old at the time).

Reaction:

The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith is not just an example of a spin-off, but also of a slightly different beast, a crossover. This had happened in the opposite direction the previous year, with the main show featuring appearances from Sarah Jane, K9 and Luke Smith, as well as members of Torchwood, in The Stolen Earth / Journey's End. There was a policy decision that the Doctor, a children's hero, would not appear in the post-watershed Torchwood, but the favour could still be returned in the other spin-off aimed at younger audiences. From viewing The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith again, it feels to me that, once the decision to feature David Tennant's Doctor in a crossover appearance in The Sarah Jane Adventures had been made, nobody thought that they needed to do much more than that. The first episode is a lot of individual scenes, almost sketch-like in places, marking time until the wedding ceremony. The second is mostly just the Doctor hanging out with younger members of the cast. This becomes almost meta; in the scene towards the end, are the young characters excited to be allowed into the TARDIS, or is it that the actors are excited about visiting the set? Maybe it's a big bit of both. The script calls for Tennant only to bring his generic set of Doctor tics - rushing around, gritting his teeth, saying Allons-y, waving his sonic around, and so on - not to do anything innovative or stretching. The most fun moment for him is near the end of the first part, and must have proved irresistible for the writer: the Doctor runs in to stop the wedding (appearing for the first time after having been teased by the sound of the TARDIS popping up on the soundtrack throughout the episode leading up that point) just after the officiant has asked if anyone has just cause and impediment why these two people can't be wed, etc., etc. 

The bitty first episode is there to establish the budding relationship between Sarah Jane and her beau Peter Dalton (played by Nigel Havers who, like Tennant, is just being asked to do the thing he always tends to do with no straying outside the boundaries). To keep things engaging, there has to be some conflict, but the story can't decide at what level to pitch it. Is this a comic farce where Luke, Clyde and Rani have to prevent Peter from seeing anything extra-terrestrial that might put him off? Well, yes, every third scene is like that, including the moment that Luke pretends K9 is a high-tech toy, or the scenes with the CGI slug that Sarah Jane buys on ebay so that she can send it back to its home planet (the CGI for the creature being, alas, some of the worst ever scene in the Whoniverse). Is the conflict more at the internal or inter-personal level, where the threat of the change to their lifestyles that Sarah Jane settling down will mean causing upset to the younger regular characters? Yes, it's that too, with a couple of good scenes along those lines (Tommy Knight's slightly desperate need to have a Dad is really well-played and creates some nice moments between him and Daniel Anthony as the more suspicious Clyde). Finally, is the conflict more along the lines that there is clearly something more to this romance, and that it all could be a con? Yes, it's that too. It's difficult to reconcile these different levels of conflict in a coherent way, so the story instead just shuffles them in with one another, each new scene and the next cutting between these different approaches. It damages the romance that should be central to the piece: is it real or is it based on some hypnosis done by the Trickster?

The engagement ring glows and seems to control Sarah Jane's behaviour, confusing the issue. There's a quite nice scene with Peter reminding her that she fell in love with him before the ring went on, but is such a papering over the cracks really needed at all? The story would be much more powerful if no such glowing inducement was required, and Sarah just started to neglect her saving the world sideline as she's preoccupied with real life falling in love stuff. That would present a real sacrifice at the end, as the happiness would be genuine, but she'd nonetheless have to pass it up, as she needs to be on duty to stand up to the Trickster or baddies like him. There are a few issues with doing that plot, though. First, it wouldn't really leave room for the Doctor to return; second - and don't hate me for bringing this up, majority Doctor Who fandom, as for some reason you don't want to see this, but - Lis Sladen is too limited an actor to do emotion well enough to sell that she's really in love (sorry, but it's true); third, a straight plot would be too similar to previous Sarah Jane Adventures stories. The script already hangs a lantern on this by suggesting that this is the Trickster's M.O., but having Sarah Jane responsible for cutting short the magically extended life of someone who should be dead is exactly what happens in Whatever Happened to Sarah Jane? by the same author from the first series, and Sarah Jane being tempted by a situation that's contrary to the laws of time is exactly what happens in The Temptation of Sarah Jane Smith by the same author in the second series. Without the need to shoehorn Tennant in, it might have proved to be the emotional finish to that trilogy; but without him it would probably not be felt to be as special as it is in its final form.

Connectivity:

Both Dark Water / Death in Heaven and The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith pointedly don't feature Nicholas Courtney as the Brigadier; he's represented - even typing this now, I still can't fully believe it - by an extra in a Cyberman suit in the Capaldi story; for the Sarah Jane story, Courtney was unwell and couldn't be part of proceedings as originally planned, so he was written out with a line stating that the Brig is in Peru.  

Deeper Thoughts:

The Revised and Updated History of Spin. The previous time I covered a story from a Lis Sladen-starring Doctor Who spin-off featuring K9 (in this blog post from March 2019), I mused in the Deeper Thoughts section on the history of Doctor Who spin-offs. In summary, despite some ideas and attempts, the sum total of TV spin-offs in the classic era was one pilot episode that was never developed into a series. Obviously, the time wasn't right back then; it didn't take too long after the relaunch of the programme in 2005, though, for records related to Doctor Who spin-offs to be smashed again and again. From the off in March 2005, there was Doctor Who Confidential, a making-of documentary series that aired on UK channel BBC3 immediately after the latest episode of Doctor Who aired on BBC1. A year later, the launch of the second run of the relaunched series was additionally accompanied by a weekly Who-themed magazine show aimed at younger children called Totally Doctor Who. Six months after that, the first dramatic spin-off started; Torchwood, also debuting on BBC3, was aimed at a post-watershed viewing audience, and featured Captain Jack (who was in five episodes of the 2005 Doctor Who series), Tosh (who was in one episode of the 2005 series), plus a few other regulars, one played by Eve Myles (who was in one episode of the 2005 series playing a different part). Before Torchwood finished its first run, a second scripted spin-off debuted with a pilot episode, this one aimed at younger audience members. This was, of course, The Sarah Jane Adventures, featuring Sarah Jane Smith and K9 (who were both in one episode of the 2006 series, and loads of episodes in the classic era). For a short, fecund period, there were four programmes (two scripted drama, two factual) running in parallel to the main programme.

This didn't endure, but it was fun while it lasted. Totally Doctor Who ran until 2007, the other three all continued up to 2011. The Sarah Jane Adventures would have continued longer if not for the death of Lis Sladen (the team that made the show went on to create another for Children's BBC called Wizards versus Aliens to plug the gap, and that ran for three years). The main show still continued, but then found itself at the start of a long period where there were no regularly running brother or sister shows alongside it, but there were very occasional forays into the extended story universe. As part of the 50th anniversary celebrations in 2013, a docu-drama was created about the very beginning of the classic series, An Adventure in Space and Time. When Doctor Who embarked on its second gap year - with no Peter Capaldi stories bar a Christmas special airing in 2016 - there was another spin-off created and shown. This was Class, set in the Coal Hill School that had been the character Clara's workplace in the 2014 and 2015 seasons. The series focussed on a set of sixth-formers dealing with extra-terrestrial activity. It was pitched at a Young Adult audience somewhere between the ages of The Sarah Jane Adventures and Torchwood's key demographics, a tricky set of TV viewers to reach, let alone to satisfy. Despite being the brainchild of award-winning YA author Patrick Ness, it wasn't deemed to be successful enough to get a second series. Throughout Jodie Whittaker's time as the Doctor, there were no TV spin-offs, though there was an audio drama series called Doctor Who: Redacted that ran for two series and is still available on BBC Sounds in the UK. I've still not got round to listening to it, but I will sooner or later.

There was a feeling from many fans that when Russell T Davies returned as showrunner there would be an explosion of new spin-offs. This was perhaps based on Disney+ money being involved, the streamer already hosting a plethora of shows connected to the Star Wars and Marvel franchises. Additionally, Davies had made comments stating that he felt Doctor Who should have a similar franchise presence on streaming services, with multiple spin-off shows available. Those fans waiting for a Paul McGann starring Time War series or similar are still waiting, but Davies did achieve something like what he'd suggested; he just didn't do it on Disney+. A sister making-of show in the Doctor Who Confidential mould immediately returned called Doctor Who Unleashed, with an episode created per story of the main show. There were also a couple of strands that presented classic era stories in new ways, the 'In Colour' re-imaginings of black and white stories, now colourised, plus Tales from the TARDIS. This second strand involved new material with stars of the original productions (and Daniel Anthony reprising the character as Clyde from the Sarah Jane Adventures in the one for The Three Doctors). All these new things, plus most of the stories and spin-offs from 1963 to 2022 came together as 'The Whoniverse', a section of the BBC iplayer that hosts that multi-show streaming franchise that Davies knew could exist. Most of that material can't be shown on Disney+, though, as they don't have the rights. The first spin-off they have funded is one that's currently being made, The War Between the Land and the Sea, with broadcast date unknown (though recent comments from Davies suggest it's a good way off). Whether it will be the only spin-off or the start of something bigger depends on whether Disney+ decide to continue their relationship with the BBC and Davies. Time (and money) will tell...

In Summary:

It's a fun crossover, but it's not much more than that

Dark Water / Death in Heaven

Chapter the 319th, where the afterlife attacks!

Plot:

Danny Pink dies in an accident. A grieving Clara tries to force the Doctor to go back and change time to save him. Instead, the Doctor connects her to the TARDIS telepathic circuits to materialise the ship in the most likely place to find Danny again. This is the 3W Institute, run by Missy and reportedly set up by a founder that discovered that the dead can talk to us through television static, and they are all somehow still connected to their corpses. The Doctor thinks this is all a con to prey on people's fears. The rich people's minds are uploaded to a floating hard drive, which the Doctor recognises as Time Lord tech, while their bodies are kept in protective exoskeletons. Danny finds himself in what appears to be the afterlife, where an administrator called Seb greets him. Someone else there also wants to meet him: this is a boy that Danny accidentally killed when he was a soldier. Seb asks if Danny wants to use a service they provide where they can remove his painful emotions. Too late, the Doctor realises that the 3W exoskeletons are Cybermen, and that Missy is a regenerated Master. The Cybermen emerge in the St. Paul's area, and they and the Doctor and Missy are surrounded by UNIT, led by Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and Osgood. The Cybermen fly up to the sky and explode, forming a cloud, and rain starts to fall. This rain contains 'Cyber pollen' which turns dead people into Cybermen. In the Institute, Clara bluffs some Cybermen that she is actually the Doctor to buy some time. A rogue Cyberman arrives and takes her away.

The Doctor, Missy and the TARDIS are put aboard a UNIT plane, but flying Cybermen attack it in the air. Missy kills Osgood. Kate falls from the plane. As if that's not bad enough, a UNIT character played by the wonderful and talented Sanjeev Bhaskar is criminally underused before he too is killed off. The Doctor skydives from the plane, catching up with and entering the falling TARDIS. He materialises near Clara in a graveyard where many Cybermen are coming to life. The rogue Cyberman turns out to be Danny Pink. Missy arrives and tells the Doctor that the Cyber-rain will fall again, converting all the living people. She offers the Cyber-army to the Doctor, thinking that his self-righteousness will make him accept and the power will corrupt him. The Doctor refuses, and passes the control bracelet for the Cybermen that Missy has given him to Danny. Danny leads the Cybermen to fly up and destroy the clouds. Missy is shot by another Cyberman that turns out to be a reanimated dead Brigadier, who had previously caught and saved Kate when she fell from the plane. The bracelet allows Danny to bring back to life the boy he killed, who arrives in Clara's home. The Doctor uses coordinates that Missy gave him hoping to find the missing Gallifrey, but there's nothing there. He visits Clara, and both of them lie thinking that they need to protect the other's happiness (the Doctor thinks Clara is reunited with Danny, she thinks he's been reunited with his people). She stays on Earth; in the TARDIS, the Doctor is surprised to find Santa Claus knocking on the door, telling him he can't leave things that way.

Context:

This was viewed from the BBC iplayer in mid-January 2025, the first and second episode separated by a couple of days. For the first episode I was accompanied by all the children (young man of 18, boy of 15, girl of 12). The eldest was home for the last day before returning to university, and he was only interested to see Chris Addison playing Seb in the story, as he's a big fan of The Thick of It. He was a little disappointed that Addison didn't share any scenes with Capaldi (the scenes in the aforementioned comedy where Capaldi's Malcolm Tucker and Addison's Olly Reader interact are many and celebrated). There was a surprising amount of enthusiasm from the younger two to keep going and watch the second part immediately after the cliffhanger, but I didn't have the time at that moment. When I did, their enthusiasm had waned and I watched the second part alone. 

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. This post marks the completion of another Doctor's televisual era; Peter Capaldi's twelfth Doctor joining the fourth, seventh, eighth, ninth, eleventh and fourteenth, making seven Doctors completed to date. This also marks the completion of another season making it 33 out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3-5, 7, 8, 10-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 1, 2, 4-11, 13 and 14).

First Time Round:

Early November 2014, just over ten years before the recent rewatch, I saw these episodes when they were first broadcast on BBC1 in the UK. The pattern of the time was to timeshift each episode a little, watching it later on during the Saturday evening after it had gone out, accompanied by the Better Half. If we both thought an episode was suitable for the children, whose ages ranged from 2 to 8 years old at the time, I would watch it with them the following Sunday morning. Capaldi's first year had proved more scary than any season before, at least in our assessment, and three of its stories had been held back from the children; the two-part finale, though, was not one of those stories, despite some questionable moments that I'll pick up on in the Reaction section below.

Reaction:

In a scene in Dark Water, the 'three words', hinted about in the name of the institute around which a lot of the action revolves, are revealed. The words are 'Don't cremate me' and they are cried out in anguish by the supposed voices of the dead picked up from the ether. It's played realistically, and is therefore quite a chilling scene. I could see how another parent or child would react differently to how my children and I did on first watch. The Doctor has some dialogue to state that it's all a con, that there is no link between the corpses of the dead and any continuing spirit or soul; it's quick and easy to miss, though. Elsewhere, Danny Pink's spirit / soul is visually depicted. The script suggests - to those that can follow the technical bafflegab - that it's actually a computer simulation of him based on his memories; but the visual, scene after scene, is him walking around in an afterlife. This overpowers any technicalities: the story is weighted heavily - in some places, pretty much explicitly - towards a suggestion that people live on in some way after they die, in pain. There's multiple references to Danny's feeling cold, and this is stated to be because his corpse is still linked to him somehow, and it's being kept somewhere cold. That's quite an unsettling thing to suggest to younger members of the audience, and the programme fumbles the scientific explanation that may provide reassurance. Danny Pink, dead or alive, is never shown to be connected to any futuristic computer or such. He just magically appears in what is presented as an afterlife, but is actually - we find out later - some form of cyberspace. In the first episode, the Doctor says "We're here to get your boyfriend back from the dead", so he must believe it is possible in some way (though he has no knowledge of the use of the nethersphere tech at that point).

Why do the minds that have been uploaded to the nethersphere need to have a virtual afterlife to exist in, anyway? If all they are planned to be is the consciousness of an army of Cybermen, then can't they be put on standby until they're required to rampage? Would Missy really need anyone's consent to remove their emotions? She has a computer that stores dead people's brains, she can edit them to her two hearts' content. Why would she need to provide afterlife aftercare, and subtle manipulation, in the form of Seb? It makes sense that Missy is amassing an army of Cybermen by using fear to drum up trade for the 3W Institute. It makes sense that a rich punter might arrange before they die for their brain to be uploaded into her nethersphere, and their body to be put in a Cyber-suit / exoskeleton, based on their fear of the three words con. It doesn't make sense, though, that elsewhere Missy's shown as perfectly able to upload anyone to the nethersphere, whether they've engaged the Institute or not. it doesn't really make sense that loads of bodies in graves are converted into Cybermen by magic rain. The 'Cyber pollen' could contain the instructions for creating a new Cyberman, but where's it getting the raw materials? This is science an order of magnitude more advanced than that seen in the 3W Institute, which makes a mockery of the idea that Missy needed all those old, rich millionaires' money to fund her research. With only the slightest thought, it becomes clear that the story doesn't need the Institute front at all. It could be one episode long and start with Missy using some Gallifreyan tech to make people rise up out of their graves. The Cybermen reanimating dead bodies is, after all, a great idea, and enough to sustain a story on its own.

Without the nethersphere stuff, we would lose the subplot about Danny Pink's death, and that allows for some emotionally rich material. The sequence of Clara threatening the Doctor, urging him to go back and change time to save Danny, is one of the best of this period: it involves wonderful performances and great visuals, playing out near an active volcano; it has a great reversal, and ends with the killer line of the Doctor's "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" The story also wouldn't have its ending. Putting aside the monumental silliness that Missy has done this whole convoluted global plan just to make a rhetorical point about the Doctor's capacity to become a dictator, the scenes where Danny's humanity and love for Clara overrides Cyber programming and he saves the day are very satisfying. The Doctor realising that he himself is not a bad man, just an "idiot" trying to make things better does tie together the themes of the season as a whole (just about). In the slightly overlong coda, though, all the earlier issues with Doctor Who establishing an essentially real in-universe afterlife are brought back again. The bracelet that Missy's used to travel back and forth to the cyberspace realm allows someone who has been dead to come back to life. But Missy had a living body when she used the bracelet. When the boy is brought back at the end, where's his body come from? Only his dead mind was in the nethersphere, and he's been dead a long time. Also, how's Clara going to track down his parents, and how on Earth are they going to react? Worse than all that, though, is the implicit endorsement of the earlier idea that if you cremate your loved ones they can feel it. It's grim, as well as confusing. Sometimes fewer ideas work better.

If one can manage to switch one's brain off, though, the story is very enjoyable. There are some great action scenes like the Cybermen recreating the classic scene of them stomping around near St. Paul's Cathedral, then surprising everyone watching by zooming into the sky, newly able to fly. The reveal of Michelle Gomez's Missy as a regenerated Master is lots of fun, and her manic, murderous scenes throughout work well. Poor Osgood is given hope in the middle of an episode by the Doctor that she can join him as a companion, which the savvy audience member will know is a surefire sign that she won't make it to the end credits. Jenna Coleman as Clara has some great material. The character shows wonderful chutzpah in playing for time with the Cybermen after the cliffhanger, pretending to be the Doctor. The decision to reverse the order of the names in the second episode's beginning title sequence and show Clara's eyes rather then the Doctor's takes it too far though, another example of a bad habit of writer and producer Steven Moffat's where he pretends there's a big twist when there isn't. The action, and some creepy horror scenes like Cyber hands emerging through the earth of graves, are well realised by director Rachel Talalay and it's no surprise watching this story that she was invited back to do every Capaldi season finale thereafter. She handles the emotional scenes well too, as in the moment at the end where the Doctor and Clara part with an awkward hug, both lying to the other about how well they are doing. Towards the end there's another moment that is of dubious taste. The beloved character of the Brigadier is brought back from the dead. Long term viewers are forced to imagine that Nicholas Courtney, who had died a few years before this story, is a corpse encased in one of Doctor Who's ultimate evil baddies. Even with the character, as with Danny Pink, overriding Cyber-programming and helping to save the day, it's still a bit icky. (But, then, what do I know? See the Deeper Thoughts section below for more musings on that theme.)

Connectivity:

Both Joy to the World and Dark Water / Death in Heaven are Steven Moffat penned Doctor Who stories that boldly (inadvisably?) touch on religious topics (the star of Bethlehem, the afterlife). Additionally, there's a lone Silurian working in the time hotel in the Christmas story, and it is established by later stories that the version of Osgood seen in Dark Water / Death in Heaven might be a disguised Zygon; so, both stories potentially feature friendly single members of classic series monsters with jobs. There's also a festive connection, with Santa Claus appearing in the very final moments of Death in Heaven, as a lead in to that year's Christmas special, Last Christmas, also written by Moffat.

Deeper Thoughts:

Going too far? A rant about Mary Whitehouse. Dark Water / Death in Heaven has one or maybe two moments that in my opinion went too far; that is to say, they went beyond my own personal perception of what is acceptable for a family audience. As mentioned above, I nonetheless thought it would be okay for my young children to view it. When their impressionable young minds first engaged with the material, they immediately started imitating what they saw, setting up their own company to facilitate an alien invasion by preying on people's fears about death. No, of course they didn't, and yes I'm being flippant and glib. An underlying point remains, though: what standards of acceptability do we apply to TV drama, and who am I - who is anyone? - to enforce them for anyone except themself (or perhaps for their kids, if they have parental responsibility). Everyone - adult or child - is different. It seems very presumptuous to speak for a wider audience even just about the qualities of a particular piece; to go beyond that and try to dictate what can or can't be shown, or who can or can't see it, takes that presumption and compounds it. Some people have no qualms with taking presumption and raising it to a higher power. One such person, who many a Doctor Who fan knows too well, was Mary Whitehouse. Whitehouse was a political lobbyist in the UK who focussed on media standards related to obscenity and the depiction of violence. She was active from the mid-1960s to the early 1990s, and during that time Doctor Who occasionally became the subject of her activism (because of depictions of violence, not - as far as I'm aware - anything related to hanky-panky in the TARDIS). The most high profile Who-related incident was her complaint about the cliffhanger ending to The Deadly Assassin's third episode, where she succeeded in getting the BBC to re-edit the sequence for future repeats.

I will reiterate my description of Whitehouse as a lobbyist and activist; that was what she was. She was not an ordinary member of the viewing public just doing her small bit out of a feeling of duty. Many people might have thought it was useful to style her as such, but it was patently not true. She called her organisation the National Viewers and Listeners Association, but it was not representative of the average viewer or listener of the nation - she no doubt spoke for some people, but they were a special interest group with views that could be described as extreme. And she was very successful. If one is tempted to see that as a positive thing, one should ask oneself whether there are any other successful lobbyists one feels good enough about to champion. As a calling, lobbyism is not one that is usually acclaimed; but, maybe - as is said of dirty work - somebody has to do it. Whitehouse played a significant part in the creation of a couple of pieces of UK legislation that most people would find unquestionably good, the Protection of Children Act 1977 and the Indecent Displays Act of 1981. She also believed that homosexuality was a perversion, and used legal processes to persecute individuals. The most egregious example of the latter was the case that she instigated concerning a play put on at the National Theatre, The Romans in Britain. The play included a scene of a simulated male-on-male rape, which Whitehouse took objection to (after it had been reported to her - she never saw the play, indeed she refused to ever see it). When they could not make a case for this being an obscenity, Whitehouse and her counsel brought private prosecution against the play's director Michael Bogdanov based on an offence under the Sexual Offences Act of 1956, based on what was shown on stage amounting to his "procuring an act of gross indecency".

This case is covered well by a BBC radio documentary called 'Disgusted, Mary Whitehouse' first broadcast in 2022 that is still available in the UK at the time of writing, on the BBC Sounds app. It was produced by Simon and Thomas Guerrier (Simon blogs about it here) who have both worked on many Doctor Who projects of different kinds over the years. Linked from that blog post is another blog post by another Doctor Who commentator Jonathan Morris, reproducing the text of an article he wrote for Doctor Who Magazine in 2003. I remember encountering both when they first were available, and bristling that both seemed to be attempting to rehabilitate Whitehouse's reputation with Doctor Who fans. Perhaps aptly, or perhaps ironically, this offended my moral sensibilities. Whitehouse put Michael Bogdanov through hell just for directing a play that she didn't like. Whitehouse's counsel gave up the prosecution after three days of the trial, and she ended up liable for Bogdanov's legal costs. Whitehouse spun this as being done as a kindness, not having wanted to criminalise him at all, just wanting to establish that the Sexual Offences act applied to the theatre. I don't believe that; I believe that the case was abandoned as they suspected they weren't going to win. I also don't think the behaviour towards Bogdanov was very Christian. I feel sure that Whitehouse believed it was Christian, though. She had embarked on a previous case against Gay News, who had offended Whitehouse by publishing a poem that she thought was blasphemous, because in her words "I simply had to protect our lord". To my mind, this is not a healthy or proportionate attitude for anyone to have.

In many years of study, nobody has ever demonstrated conclusively that violent or sexual media content influences long-term behaviour, and some people have really tried hard to make that stick. Of course, someone who's just been to their Gran's cremation might get triggered by Dark Water / Death in Heaven's scene of (fake) voices from a hellish afterlife, but you can't write drama - or define laws - based on not offending anyone no matter what's going on in their circumstances. My kids were young at the time I gauged the story's acceptability; some of them understood exactly what the ramifications of the voices scene were, meaning they were mature enough to handle it; some did not, and it sailed right over their heads. This is mostly how it works in my experience. Guerrier in his blog picks out a scene in The Crusade, which hints that characters may need to kill themselves to avoid a fate worse than death if they're caught; he believes it may be something that wouldn't be shown in a family drama today. There's nothing graphic or even spelt out in the scene, though, so I think it would self-correct in the same way; if you understand, you accept; if you don't, it won't disturb. Morris thinks that 1970s Who had only itself to blame for getting Whitehouse's attention, because it pushed at the boundaries of the BBC's guidelines of the time, and maybe overstepped the mark occasionally. But how else do guidelines ever adapt? Tom Baker stories look tame compared to TV now. Doctor Who is self-evidently not responsible for any criminally violent behaviour; violence is much more complex than that, and pretending otherwise is usually a sign of a hidden agenda (like the promoting of a radically conservative interpretation of Christianity, for example).

Mary Whitehouse's crusading zeal undermined itself. Her low threshold for offence meant that she searched everywhere for obscenity and found it. This made her definition of the obscene so broad and indiscriminate that she bracketed together homosexuals with paedophiles, Doctor Who cliffhangers with porno mags in newsagents. This was shameful, and undoubtedly harmful. The poisonous legacy of that overshadows any potential good she may have contributed along the way, its radioactive half life so long that I feel any attempt at rehabilitating her should not be happening now, or at any point during my lifetime. There's also a hollow irony in Whitehouse's association with John Smyth. He was the lawyer that had worked with her on a number of cases, including initially on The Romans in Britain prosecution. The late Smyth, who died in 2018, was the serial abuser of children central to the former Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby's decision to resign his position towards the end of 2024 (Welby accepted that he had not done enough to ensure that the details of the abuse were communicated widely enough, and appropriate action taken, when he first became aware of the situation in 2013). Whitehouse saw threats to children everywhere except in someone close to her. The radio documentary speculates that, had she found out during her lifetime, it might have fundamentally changed her outlook. I don't think I can find enough charity in my heart to agree, but here's a thought: rather than my getting angry or offended about a piece of media I don't agree with, or trying to supress it, why don't I instead encourage you to listen to it? You could also read the blog posts linked above. Then, make up your own mind. That isn't so hard, is it?!!

In Summary:

If you can switch off your brain, and your sense of decorum, its a fun and emotional season finale.

Joy to the World

 

Chapter the 318th, in which, well, you know, a star *is* born. Literally.

Plot:

[It's an up to the minute episode, so beware spoilers ahead.] The year 4202; the Doctor has parked the TARDIS in a time hotel, which offers package deals for people to go through time windows and experience Christmasses on the first ever climb to the summit of Everest, or in World War Two, or on the Orient Express in the 60s, and so on. The Doctor sees a suspicious character at the hotel reception with a briefcase handcuffed to their wrist, and investigates. The briefcase can be passed from person to person, the new recipient coming under its hypnotic control while the old carrier dies. The Doctor tracks it to a room in the Sandringham Hotel, London in 2024, when it is attached to Joy. She is spending Christmas alone in the hotel. The Doctor opens the case and triggers a process that will kill Joy unless he puts in a code. Luckily, his future self turns up in the room and gives him the code. Joy rushes off into the time hotel with the future Doctor, who breaks the connection so the past Doctor can't follow. The Doctor hangs around for a year working at the Sandringham, and befriending the manager Anita, waiting for the following Christmas which will give him an opportunity to get back to the time hotel. After an emotional farewell to Anita, he gets back into the hotel, and enters Joy's room just in time to tell his past self the code and complete the loop. The Doctor and Joy leave, the briefcase taking control of Joy's mind. The Doctor has had a year to work it out and knows that the case contains a star seed, a quantum-contained chain reaction that will become a star.

The Villengard weapons corporation want Joy to use the hotel to put the seed in a time zone long ago, then in a more recent time-zone they can harvest the resultant custom-made star. Joy goes into one time hotel room, and the Doctor is deliberately mean to her to provoke emotions and break the conditioning. She explodes with rage about her Mum dying alone on Christmas Day during the Covid pandemic, and having to say goodbye on a iPad while elsewhere people with "wine fridges" were partying. The briefcase is no longer attached to her wrist. The Doctor is concerned that a star being born anywhere near Earth will destroy the planet, but thinks that Villengard must have got their sums wrong as they'd need to start the process 65 million years ago. Just then, they hear a dinosaur approach and realise the room they are in is about that far back. The dinosaur swallows the briefcase, and the Doctor and Joy flee. Back in the time hotel, the Doctor uses the sonic to track the signal of the seed, which is four and a half minutes from detonation. The seed is in a temple within a particular time hotel room. Joy joins herself to it, and tells the Doctor not to worry as she is not dying, only changing. She starts to turn into a star, zooming high up in the sky. The star shines down on various characters from the story, as well as Joy's Mum in her hospital room in 2020, and Ruby Sunday at home on Minto Road in the present day. The Doctor recommends Anita to become the manager of the time hotel. The time zone where Joy first became the star turns out to be Bethlehem in the year 0001.

Context:

As is customary in the period between Christmas Day and New Year (Twixtmus, Chrimbo Limbo, the Merrineum), I wanted to watch and blog a story. I've only a handful of Doctor Who stories left to do before I run out, plus probably the same number of oddball or off-piste items of less pure canonical status. There will also be at least eight new Ncuti Gatwa episodes broadcast, so he will dominate blog posts in 2025. Rather than grow next year's imbalances further, I decided to suspend random selection and blog the very latest Gatwa story, the Christmas special Joy to the World, as my final post of 2024. I watched from the BBC iplayer (we've not needed to get the aerial fixed in the last year, so everything we view or review is from a streaming service now) on the 29th December 2024.

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. This post marks the completion of all Ncuti Gatwa's stories and specials broadcast to date (at the time of writing), but as mentioned he has at least another season in the can planned for broadcast in 2025. As well as that, I have completed the televisual eras for six Doctors (the fourth, seventh, eighth, ninth, eleventh and fourteenth) and 32 out of the total of 40 seasons to date: classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 1, 2, 4, 5-7, 9-11, 13 and 14).

First Time Round:

This year, the In-laws came round on the 25th (the last few years before 2024, it had been Boxing Day), so we didn't watch Doctor Who, or indeed anything, on the big day. I caught up with it on the 26th from the BBC iplayer accompanied by two of the children - young man of 18, back from uni for the holidays, and middle child, boy of 15. We all enjoyed it without thinking it was anything massively ground-breaking. My initial thought on seeing the very final few frames before the end credits was that it was too much, and the programme shouldn't go near that topic. I felt that it was likely to cause complaints from religious people that a part of the bible story, the star of Bethlehem, was shown to have an extra-terrestrial origin. I googled to see if that had come to pass, but only found a couple of UK tabloid 'news' stories that Doctor Who was "woke" for criticising those in Government that had parties during Covid lockdowns. Apparently, it's less acceptable to risk annoying Boris Johnson fans than Christians.

Reaction:

As I usually do during Advent and Christmas, in 2024 I watched a number of old favourites of festive films and TV. Something leapt out at me this time in a couple of places. In a song in The Muppet Christmas Carol, there's the line "If you need to know the measure of a man, you simply count his friends"; and, in a note shown at the end of It's a Wonderful Life there's "Remember, no man is a failure who has friends". Although in both instances the texts had the best intentions, highlighting this metric as more meaningful in comparison to any counts of material wealth, I couldn't help but be uncomfortable about the sentiment being expressed that way. Some people, for whatever reason (for example, those that are neurodivergent), find making friends more difficult than others. Christmas films and TV often highlight that Christmas can be lonely. A Christmas Carol (in whatever version, but obviously the Muppet one is the best) has Scrooge isolating himself from others at the start; It's a Wonderful Life has George Bailey feeling alone with all his troubles. The endings of both stories, though, suggest that the solution is a pre-existing group of friends or family. If one doesn't have such a support group to hand, as Joy doesn't in this Doctor Who story, then even the most uplifting of Christmas tales could be depressing. It's therefore a good thing that Joy to the World does something different. It starts with two characters - as well as Joy, there's Anita working alone at the Sandringham Hotel - who are lonely not because they are misguided, or in despair, or in any way bad, but just because. And they find a way out of loneliness without the more obvious festive fallbacks of family or a large society of friends.

Nicola Coughlan is great playing the one-off Christmas companion role, with a deft mix of feistiness and vulnerability. The most affecting scenes for me, though, were those between the Doctor and Anita, played by Steph de Whalley. The Doctor befriends her during the year where he has to stay in the hotel; there are no big adventures to be had to help them bond, just kindness and conversation. This seemed to me to be the heart of the piece. Writer of Joy to the World Steven Moffat has written many a timey-wimey narrative in the past; indeed, he invented the term. Such tricks here are not for their own sake, though, but to add to the overall meditation on human interaction. The near future Doctor's sudden appearance providing his past self with crucial information seems to be a narrative curveball at first, but once he's spent a year waiting to become that Doctor, it's a throwaway piece of business. The Doctor knows the code to give to himself, because he remembers being told it first time round - it's the bootstrap paradox (as riffed on in many a Moffat script, and as made famous in a story from the period of time when he was Doctor Who showrunner). It doesn't matter how the Doctor comes to have the information, the only point is that he spends a year with Anita. It does also give us a great scene where the Doctor gets to upbraid himself about how irritating his faux enigmatic schtick is for everyone suffering it. The opening sequence - where the Doctor visits many different timezones attempting to deliver room service - wouldn't suffer from only being run through the once when the viewer knows what's going on, but it does give the story an arresting opening (a mild shame, then, that it was a bit thrown away by being used as a sneak peak clip earlier in the year).

Is the kind of trickery in repeating scenes from different POVs the story's own faux enigmatic schtick? Perhaps, but it works to keep things interesting during a sleepy, postprandial broadcast slot. Some reviews I read said that the story was still too confusing, so perhaps showing some sequences more than once was necessary (how much more confused would those reviewers have been if only seeing them once?). Still, what stands out most is the selection of lovely character moments brought to life well by the performers. It seems odd to say that about something that is clearly trying to dazzle with non-chronological storytelling and other narrative devices, but what I remember best from the story are the fun moments with Joel Fry's Trev, or the proud moment where Jonathan Aris's Silurian talks about working his way up to be the time hotel's manager. Given that such nice characters get bumped off with such regularity, one probably foresees a terrible fate in store for Joy as soon as the briefcase attaches itself to her. She goes out on her own terms in the end, though. The scenes of her righteous anger at people who did not follow the rules, when she was not able to say goodbye to her mother in person during Covid lockdown, is another great moment. It's a brave choice to make Covid a thing that happened in the Doctor Who universe, as the series has assiduously avoided it before now. It feels like the soonest point - four years on from the pandemic - that the subject could be broached, though, and it is handled sensitively (despite it apparently upsetting some in the right-wing media).

It's a bit odd that the Doctor comments a few times about being alone and not adjusting well to his companions leaving, when it was his idea for Ruby to stay behind to get to know her birth mother. There's no real reason he couldn't phone her at least once during the year with Anita (that's why I feel it was a good choice for them to have Millie Gibson cameo at the end). I still feel that the revelation that the star seed (was it just me that had to hear that said out loud four times before he realised the characters weren't talking about the Stasi?) has bloomed into the Star of Bethlehem was a sticking point, but it was a little less sticky second time round. The ending has to be big to top the emotional climax of the Doctor and Anita subplot happening at the halfway point. Also, this time I noticed that the Doctor's funny line early on when hearing that the time hotel offers rooms at all the most significant moments in human history, "No wonder there was no room at the inn", nicely tees up that final revelation. It's just one of many great gags in the script - the in-joke for people in the UK of a certain age that the time hotel's outfitters is called Mr. Benn's was cook's kiss (Mr. Benn was a kids' show in which the character donned a different outfit at a costume shop every week, then emerged into a different time and place for an adventure, with the episode where he put on a toque and apron was called The Cook rather than The Chef). There's no real logic I can see as to why Joy's Mum's life force at the point of her death appears to join with the Joy star, nor why everyone entranced by the Villengard tech would talk about how "the flesh will rise" when that only has meaning as part of Joy's very non-Villengard plan at the end. It's Christmas, though, and everybody wants the happiest ending possible, I'm sure.

Mr Benn as 'The Cook'

Connectivity:

Both Dalek and Joy to the World are stories broadcast in the first full year of a Doctor that was a 'season one' relaunch of the show exec-produced by Russell T Davies; both were penned by commissioned writers to provide a specific boost to the year (a mid-season 'tent pole' story in the former, a festive special for the big day in the latter). Both stories feature an appearance by a single member of a recurring alien species that hadn't been seen on TV for a good few years (the Silurian hotel manager in Joy to the World is, I think, the first one seen in Who since Deep Breath in 2014, over a decade earlier).

Deeper Thoughts:

Predictions for the space year 2025. In the last few years I've taken to making predictions for the coming year in the Deeper Thoughts section of a blog around the New Year period; as if that wasn't foolhardy enough, I've also made a point of looking back and checking how well my predictions turned out. I'm quite proud of one I made in the blog post at the end of 2023. It's nothing to do with Doctor Who, though. In the Deeper Thoughts of that post for The Church on Ruby Road, prompted by online discussions of the performance of The Goblin Song when it was released as a single, I predicted that Last Christmas by Wham would be the UK Christmas number one forever more. In 2024, just as in 2023, it did indeed make the festive top spot. I still can't see anything that will stop it being number one for the Christmas week in 2025 and thereafter, short of a change in how the chart is put together. The number of streams a song gets far outweighs any other measure in dictating a song's chart position, and Wham's song gets streamed a lot in the UK over Christmas. A concerted boycott would be impossible, it's on every Christmas compilation and playlist out there; indeed, as I mentioned last year, it is a song that many people do actively try to boycott individually - but to no avail - in the Whamageddon game. I also made the following statement when musing about the UK Christmas number one becoming boringly predictable: "At least we will have a Doctor Who special annually to make up for it". I was more certain of that statement in 2023 than I am in 2024, but I'll stand by it. Whether the co-production deal with Disney+ endures or not, I think Doctor Who will still continue, and even if it's not on TV any other time it will be on at Christmas. Joy to the World was sixth in the top ten of the day's programmes based on overnight ratings (i.e. not including streaming, where Doctor Who tends to pick up more viewers). It's earned its festive schedule spot, and I hope it keeps it for many years yet.

Other predictions were in the Deeper Thoughts section for the first blog post of January 2024. I correctly thought that Gatwa's first series would mostly concentrate on the new, but there would be a couple of appearances from the established UNIT family. I correctly suspected that there would be more supernatural antagonists, and also that there would be a return of a foe from the past. I namechecked Daleks and Cybermen, but Russell T Davies managed to return a less predictable old foe in Sutekh, without falling back on those mainstays. I mentioned a rumour about a spin-off with an eight word title; in 2024, that was officially confirmed to be The War Between the Land and the Sea, which will air in 2025, and will also feature the return of an old foe and the UNIT regulars. Will Gatwa's second series be able to avoid the temptation to feature Daleks or Cybermen? The point of these annual Deeper Thoughts is to go out on a limb, so I will: I think at least one will feature in 2025, probably Skaro's finest. On the home video front, I correctly predicted both Blu-ray collection boxsets for 2024, which were season 15 (Tom Baker's fourth run) and season 25 (Sylvester McCoy's second). This wasn't clairvoyance, I'd just picked up whispered rumours about both earlier in 2023. The Blu-ray team surprised everyone by branching out to cover Blakes 7 releases, no whispers about that had reached my ears. I have similarly heard nothing about the Collection releases next year. One Doctor Who box set has already been announced for 2025: Jon Pertwee's first year of stories, the 1970 season seven, will be released early in 2025. I expect we will also see Blakes 7's second season too. That will probably mean only one other Who boxset, but which one will it be?

With season seven slated for release, there are nine seasons of the classic series left for the Collection treatment. The number of black and white seasons left is outnumbering the colour ones for the first time, five to four. I think that it's unlikely that we'll get a monochrome set, though. The only season from the first six B&W years released to date has been William Hartnell's second run from 1964/65; that year has only two missing episodes that form 50% of a single story; the remainder of the season comprised of eight other stories made up of 35 extant episodes. As such, representing two out 39 with reconstructions (using the soundtrack and offscreen photographs) was barely a blip in the scheme of things. All the other 1960s seasons have more missing episodes than that, and those missing episodes form larger gaps in their stories (most seasons having at least one story that is 100% missing). It is theoretically possible for, say, season five to be released nonetheless, with two-thirds of story The Wheel in Space represented by four reconstructed episodes; but, the subsequent box set would then have an odd mix of animation and reconstruction used to plug the gaps, as other stories in the run have had some or all of their episodes animated (as is the case with each of the five remaining monochrome seasons). As such, I think that it's more likely that the next season will be a colour one, with the other seasons kept back until there is animation to consistently represent all their missing episodes. There's only a choice of four colour seasons for which I could plump; only three, if one assumes that the BBC wouldn't want two Jon Pertwee sets in a single year. I'll guess from those remaining three that it will be season 13, Tom Baker's second run, that will be next.

Going back to animation, I incorrectly predicted that a second animated story (joining the already announced The Celestial Toymaker) would be released in 2024, and that it might be The Smugglers (based on earlier speculation in a UK newspaper). I was wrong on both counts: no other story was released, but one was announced for 2025 - it wasn't The Smugglers, but The Savages (a similar enough title to suggest that that speculation might just have been based on a mishearing). I've picked up, very late, a pattern in the stories being selected for animations. Since the full story animations started in 2016, none of them have been purely historical stories (and even before that, only two episodes of a historical story have ever been animated). The sci-fi tales that were instead converted to cartoon were likely less problematic to animate, and more marketable. I think the trend will continue. From the trailer, The Savages animation looks to have been done by the team that worked on 2023's The Underwater Menace, meaning The Celestial Toymaker's team is free to be working on another story. It might not be released in 2025, but I'm guessing it will at least be announced. My guess is that the story will be The Space Pirates, meaning that a box set of season six, with The War Games in colour as an extra, would be a contender for 2026. In my previous predictions, I guessed that the 'In colour' re-edit and colourisation treatment would be applied to The Tomb of the Cybermen. I didn't think that anyone would have the silliness / courage to edit 10 episodes of story into 90 minutes (and pretty successfully, at least in my opinion). I'll guess that they want to stick with relatively significant stories, and will alternate between Hartnell and Troughton, so The Dalek Invasion of Earth will be next, on TV around the 23rd November 2025. How clownish will my guesses turn out to be? Time will tell; it usually does.

In Summary:

Never mind the narrative - or stellar - pyrotechnics, this is really about people being nice to one another. As such, I feel I must maintain that spirit, and wish you the Happiest of Happy New Years!

Dalek

Chapter the 317th, a singular Dalek adventure.

Plot:

Answering a distress call, the Doctor and Rose arrive in an underground complex in Utah where tech billionaire Henry van Statten keeps his private collection of alien artefacts. He has one living exhibit, which he's never been able to get to speak, no matter how much his staff torture it. Finding out that the Doctor has alien knowledge, he lets the Time Lord enter the 'cage' in which the creature is kept in chains. The Doctor panics and asks to be let out when he sees that the creature is a Dalek. It's weaponry is non-functional, though; the Doctor attempts to kill it by electrocution, but Van Statten's security guards intervene. Rose has meanwhile been talking to Adam, an employee of Van Statten's from the UK. Adam hacks in to the cameras in the cage, and Rose sees the Dalek being tortured. She goes there and talks to the Dalek, and it plays on her sympathy. When she touches its dome, it suddenly comes back to life having absorbed her DNA, and breaks free from its chains. Adam and Rose run for it. The Dalek absorbs energy from the local grid, renewing its battered and aged armour. It then proceeds to kill every person it comes across. The Doctor closes bulkhead doors to trap the creature, but Rose is left on the wrong side when they close. The Dalek does not kill her; it is starting to change because of the influence of her DNA. The Doctor arms himself with a big space gun from Van Statten's collection and confronts the Dalek. The Dalek shoots a hole in the ceiling to let in the sun, and opens its casing to bask in the light. It then kills itself, not wanting to live as an 'impure' mutation. The Doctor and Rose leave, Rose having persuaded the Doctor to let Adam come with them.

Context:

I watched this one afternoon close to Christmas Day 2024, in a bit of a rush as I'd realised how close it was getting to the big day. I wanted to get a post written up and published before the 25th. I viewed it alone from a DVD copy, the individual disc release of episodes 4 - 6 of the new 2005 series that came out before that series had even completed on television. When I'd finished and took the disc out of the player, I noticed it was looking very scratched after all these years. Should I invest in the upscaled Blu-ray boxset of the new series stories originally broadcast in SD (the first four seasons plus specials)? Maybe in the new year I'll have a look for it in the January sales. Are there still January sales?

Milestone watch: I've been blogging new and classic Doctor Who stories in random order since 2015, and I'm now closing in on the point where I finish everything and catch up with the current stories being broadcast serially. This post marks the completion of another Doctor's televisual era, the ninth Doctor joining the fourth, seventh, eighth, eleventh and fourteenth in the 'Done' pile. It also marks the completion of another season of Doctor Who; I have in total completed 32 out of the total of 40 seasons to date (at the time of writing): classic seasons 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10-18, 20, 21, 23-26, and new series 1, 2, 4, 5-7, 9-11, 13 and 14).

First Time Round:

In the UK, there was a public holiday for May Day on Monday May 2nd 2005; in the long weekend this created, I - along with the Better Half and friend Phil, mentioned many times before on the blog - travelled up from the south to Shropshire to visit long-term fan friend David (also mentioned many times before on this blog) and his Better Half. One of the things we did, as all of us were fans of the recently relaunched series, was sit down to watch a TV Dalek story (the first for 17 years). It had been very much hyped, but nonetheless exceeded expectations. It was enjoyed by everyone. Over that weekend, I remember we all went to a Birmingham cinema to watch the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie that had just come out. This was not enjoyed much by anyone. The other thing I remember was my being extensively and frustratingly poor at the board game Ticket To Ride, and not getting any better no matter how many times I was resoundingly defeated playing it. This was enjoyed by everyone (except me).

Reaction:

This viewing of Dalek came shortly after my watching the season 25 Blu-ray boxset (which came out in late October 2024). The first story on that set, Remembrance of the Daleks, has a scene towards the end where the Doctor confronts a lone Dalek and persuades it to kill itself. I know that essentially Dalek does a plot with those same basic beats over the course of 45 minutes, but the scene and the 2005 story could not be more different. Remembrance is one of the very best Dalek stories from the classic era, but it still includes a scene of a lone Dalek wobbling and fretting, rather than being a scary evil force. Many Doctor Who stories featured moments like this, or worse scenes where the Daleks were mocked; and, Remembrance aside, the inclusion of Davros in all their latter classic era stories tended to relegate them to fulfilling a role as henchmen rather than top-billed villains. Plus, there were many sketches and adverts sending them up (the last time the Daleks had a mass audience on TV before 2005 they were flogging chocolate biscuits). Dalek exists to empathically change the perception of the Daleks in the minds of the audience, annihilating any sense that they're pathetic, and reinvesting them with menace and import. Though it wasn't the most festive story written by Robert Shearman that I watched in December 2024 (see the Deeper Thoughts section to see what was), it was still somewhat apt. The story's raison d'etre is to roast some old chestnuts: each aspect that might seem silly about the Daleks - the sink plunger, the bumpy hemispheres on the skirt section, their seeming inability to go up stairs, etc. - is used to dark or murderous effect in the story.

A key way to do this that costs less but is more effective than effects work (though there's no slouching in that department, with great moments like the 'bullet time' scenes where the Dalek's forcefield stops a spray of rounds aimed at it, or where it effortlessly elevates itself floating up multiple flights of stairs) is to deploy the story's not so secret weapon, the intense and brilliant acting powers of its leading man. Christopher Eccleston is so good in this story that he burns through the TV screen. The Dalek prop is expertly given voice by Nick Briggs, in his first of many times behind the ring modulator doing vocal duty for Skaro's finest. But, it is how Eccleston reacts to Briggs that sears this story into one's imagination. Eccleston incendiary work is supported by sympathetic but still showy direction from Joe Ahearne. It's obvious why Ahearne was invited back to direct so many times in this season; every moment is framed expertly, from all the magnificent close-ups to set pieces like the Dalek dispatching dozens of security guards by setting off the sprinklers and letting the water conduct his electrifying shots. As I've said before on the blog, nobody can capture moving images of Daleks as well as Joe Ahearne. The script is also giving Eccleston a boost; the sprinkler scene and its aftermath alone delivering some of the best dialogue of the year, from the Doctor noting of the Dalek that "It wants us to see" the devastation it is wreaking, to the Doctor's tirade urging the Dalek to end its own life "Why don't you just die?!" followed up after a beat with the Pepper-pot's devastating "You would make a good Dalek".

As well as delivering a big dollop of the time war backstory that had been hinted at in the first few episodes of the series, the story also focusses on the Doctor's duality, the aforementioned war having left him more like a Dalek that he'd like to admit. This gives Billie Piper's Rose some good material too, calling him out regarding the unthinking hatred that the metal meanie has brought out. The moment where the Doctor thinks she's been exterminated hammers home the bond that exists between these two characters. Given that it's already obvious that the two of them together are something special, it isn't necessary to introduce Adam to highlight this by failing in the companion role (as I detailed in the 2020 blog post for following story The Long Game). That's not an issue in this tale, though, so the only real criticism I have is that the budget doesn't quite match up with the material; if the story had been the following year, it would have a full orchestra performing the wonderful score, rather than just Murray Gold's synths and samples, for instance. Mind you, if it had been the following year, it wouldn't have starred Eccleston, and I don't think Tennant - or indeed anyone - can do the Doctor's anger quite as well as Eccleston. The Dalek having bonded with Rose when it took a sample of her DNA to revivify itself, and hating the changes this brings on in it, its end is a quiet one rather than being in the heat of battle. There are excellent practical effects showing the mutant feeling the sunlight shine upon it before it dies. Exciting and clever, emotional and thoughtful, but with lots of action: watching Dalek in December made for a nice little early Christmas gift.

Connectivity:

Both Dalek and The Legend of Ruby Sunday see the Doctor accompanied by a single female companion visiting a base that has equipment beyond the capabilities of technology in the rest of the world at that time. In both stories, the Doctor is fearful at being confronted by a lone - and massively destructive - survivor of a race he'd previously encountered and thought was wiped out. 

Deeper Thoughts:

The Shear brilliance of the man: a quite timely but really not timely at all review of The Chimes of Midnight. Robert Shearman, the writer of Dalek, comes to many of the BFI Doctor Who screenings that I attend. He always hangs around after the screening in the bar and talks to other fans (he is a fan himself, as he's made clear in many interviews and writings). He was in the BFI Riverfront bar after the first of the two BFI events for The Happiness Patrol this year; there, my friend Scott embarrassed me slightly by informing Shearman that I wanted to tell him about how much I enjoyed something he'd written. The reason Scott particularly wanted me to be brave enough to tell him, and therefore forced my hand, was because the thing I enjoyed that he'd written had nothing to do with Doctor Who. It was a radio play called Forever Mine that Shearman wrote for broadcast in 2004 (on the BBC's radio 4), which starred Richard Briers and Pauline Collins. I only listened to it once, but its themes, plus some moments in the narrative and the mental images they provoked, have stayed with me since. A darkly comic play constructed around the difficulties that remarriage would present to widower and ex if the afterlife turned out to be real, it is haunting in its dramatisation of love and relationships, memory and identity. People at BFI events praising Shearman's Doctor Who work are probably ten a penny; I hope it was at least refreshingly different for him to meet someone extoling the virtues of an example of his other work. He certainly seemed a little surprised (maybe even bemused?) that it was Forever Mine in particular that had taken my fancy.

Shearman and friend

I couldn't, though, tell Shearman how good was his body of Doctor Who work, because - Dalek aside - I had never experienced any of it. Shearman came to prominence in Doctor Who circles because of his work for audio adventures company Big Finish. Long term readers of the blog will know that I've sampled only something like 0.001% of Big Finish's output, none of that smidge including any of Shearman's stories. Until very recently, that is. Wanting to listen to an example of his Big Finish work, I had seven audio plays to pick from, which he penned for the company between the years 2000 and 2007. All of them were well regarded at the time and to this day. One of the seven was Jubilee, the story that he adapted to create Dalek. To pick that one would, of course, have been most thematically aligned to this blog post, but instead I went for a story that was apt in a different way. The Chimes of Midnight, though it was first released in February (of 2002), is a Christmas ghost story. It may be Shearman's most popular work for Doctor Who audio. People are still talking about it: the 2024 Christmas edition of Doctor Who Magazine, issue 611, included an article on Big Finish's Christmas stories that didn't include Chimes because "people bang on about that one all the time". Perhaps the journalist imagined every Doctor Who fan had listened to it by now, but I had not. To rectify that I bought and downloaded Chimes, listening to it - rationed to one episode a day - in a week of late December 2024. The story sees Paul McGann's Doctor with his first audio companion Charley Pollard arrive at a house where some Sapphire and Steel style time anomalies are occurring.

The Original CD cover

The story deserves its reputation, it's got the whole package: intrigue, chilling scenes, and the same haunting quality that Forever Mine had: some of the moments where people within a somewhat artificial reality are altered as their memories are manipulated are very similar to the radio play, and similarly effective. It's also very Christmassy. The feel of the piece samples greatly from 1970s series Upstairs Downstairs, or half of it at least: the Doctor and Charlie can't ever get to the Upstairs and spend their time dealing only with the servants of the house, all of whom are beautifully written and performed (and a couple of which are in-jokingly named after the 1970s series' cast or crew). There's a repeated refrain that is used for both funny and increasingly eerie effect, "Christmas wouldn't be Christmas" without the cook Mrs. Baddeley's plum pudding, as many characters aver. Reportedly, Shearman indulged himself a little by making each cliffhanger moment a callback to previous 'rock star' classic series cliffs, part one ending like the first episode of The Space Museum, then the subsequent episode endings harking back to Kinda episode three and Horror of Fang Rock three. If that makes it sound like it would be clunky or artificial, I can tell you that the writing is sophisticated enough to perfectly assimilate any such material, no matter how geeky. Everything pays off, and a contained story with few characters and locations turns out to be even more bounded than it first appeared. It's good that the 0.001% of Big Finish audios I'd experienced before included the first 'season' of Eight and Charley audios (this story is from the second) as a little knowledge of her backstory is useful for the ending to have the weight that it should.

An online listening party for the story took place in 2020

Even though Shearman never wrote a story for Doctor Who on TV again, The Chimes of Midnight shows that his Who work for other media is just as imaginative and excellent. I may be wasting my effort with this quick capsule review, however: the chances are if you're reading this that you - unlike me - listened to the audio in question ages ago. If not, though, then I hope this seasonally apt but 20+ years late write-up has persuaded you to give it a listen. Merry Christmas! 

In Summary:

Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without an obligatory "Incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!". (And, presumably, you don't need me to tell you that Dalek is great.)