Sunday, September 28, 2008

Blake's 7 Reborn Rebel Retardation

I've blogged at length about my doubts at the prospect of reviving Blake's 7 - quite simply, unless it's a direct continuation, it's completely pointless to reboot the format. At the time of B7 Productions In Association With Sci-Fi Channel's attempts to knock out Earth out of orbit by making Terry Nation spin in his grave to the nth degree, I naively hoped that the reboot that was undoubtedly at hand would be a necessary evil to get back to the show we knew and loved. After the inevitably-horrid pilot, it would get better, right?

I managed, I think, the first three five minute chapters of the first story on a very poor digital audio service before I gave up completely. Now, I shall give it a proper listening, all the way through. Is it really that bad? I had mediocre hopes that Ben Aaronovitch would be in more Remembrance than Battlefield mood, and with the Nation Estate's vice like grip on the bollocks of those who dare try to play with his toys, well, surely this couldn't be so bad? Could it? Paul Darrow himself disowning the product before it began wasn't as ominous as it could have been, right?

Right?




CHAPTER ONE: Hard Targets

"In the 23rd century, the Galactic Federation was no longer a beacon of democracy and peace. It had become a corrupt tyrrany, ruled by elite factions who cared nothing for the fate of ordinary people. Freedom and justice are things of the past. One man chose to oppose this..."

Definitely not a good way to start. Why exactly couldn't they use the original theme music, or at least the tune itself? It was written as an uplifting athem of hope and adventure. This just has a mean, military drumming that does and means absolutely nothing. And then we get Avon doing a completely pointless voiceover. Why? I know such voiceovers are used in many shows on SciFi, but usually a brief soundbite over the premise of the show, ala "So, you're wondering why these spacemen are quite clearly looking for a fight?" or "The reason why there's only one human being in this show is because..."

It's not a good bit of prose, especially as it seems to say "Hey, there was this mythical happy fun time land full of shiny happy people whose magical candy dreams all came true - but then it became real life! One man said no!" What bollocks. What utter, utter bollocks. In just one sentence they've completely missed the point of the original show and made Blake bigger than than his cause, which is of course what Blake didn't want - right to the end he insisted that he was as expendable as anyone else in the fight. And if Blake is so freaking important to the new format, why is Avon doing the voiceover? Arguably, Avon was the central character of the show, but does he give any of his cynical cutting comments here? Does he give any sign of emotion or personality whatsoever? Nope.

Colin Salmon as Avon. Known to me (and probably a few others) as the black guy in M15 in the Brosnan James Bond flicks, he didn't strike me as an instant candidate for the role (mind you, I still can't think of anyone who could do it... maybe John Simms?). Certainly I wasn't fussed at Avon suddenly being black. The original series made it quite clear that any prejudice comes from social grading rather than ethnic background, which is why Anglo Saxon Vila is generally treated like dirt and Dark Lady Dayna acts like minor royalty. But it's quickly clear that Salmon is something of a Sylvester McCoy type actor. He works best when you can see his eyes, body language, etc. He is not one who relies solely on his voice which is tragic because, well, hey, this is audio people! In fact, it seems he has been chosen solely because his deep and precise voice is reminiscent of Paul Darrow's. Not that he's actually good. I'll reserve further judgement, since the only role I can really judge him involved him playing a cheerful, friendly, not-at-all-sinister man. Who turned out to be exactly that.

Next rant: 23rd century? Why?! It seems every sci-fi show is set there, from Red Dwarf to Babylon Five to Space: Above and Beyond to Star Trek (maybe... I dunno about stardate translation to the gregorian calendar). Presumably the logic is that 'two hundred years allows huge advancement in technology but not enough to render it incomprehensible to the audience'. Yet this is the same 'world' that achieved peace, freedom, prosperity and democracy and then instantly went downhill. Based on a series set in the far, far, far future where civilization had nuked itself back into the stone age more than once on every planet in the galaxy.

Gosh, I haven't even gone past the opening monologue. This could get tough.

Helicopters and SWAT teams are targeting a specific apartment lead by some guy named Travis who chats on a walkie talkie to his boss, Servalan. Once again, Servalan 2.0 is chosen because of her vocal similarity to Jacqueline Pearce (now the genuine article has abandoned civilization to play with monkeys) rather than bona fide audio talent, but it seems to be something completely different with Travis. He doesn't seem to be a reimagined version of our monocular madman, but just a rather useless young soldier Servalan bullies. Thus "Travis" is a kind of fourth wall gag. Both TV versions could be scary, but this weak, fey sounding soldier seems to be manning the ship while the genuine man in charge pops to the toilet. Oh, did I mention HELICOPTERS?! In the 23rd century?!

No doubt this and many other such anachronisms are to make the story seem more real to contemporary audiences who of course cannot concentrate on anything for more than five minutes at a time. Why not set the whole thing in the here and now, then? Huh? What's B7 Enterprises' explanation for this?

The SWAT team exchanges wannabe tough-sounding military buzzwords as they kick down the door of the apartment and discover... their prey has already left and got past them. But what's this? Our elusive fugitive has dangled a frying pan from the ceiling of his living room with the words "YOU HAVE BEEN BRAINWASHED" carved on it. Why exactly he couldn't use note paper or say, paint this on the walls, escapes me. I might even grant this points for being slightly creepy in a They Live kind of way, but then the apartment explodes. Why did this mysterious rebel blow up his apartment and kill all the law enforcers and put countless others at risk? Why leave such an eccentric note? What's the point? And are we really supposed to sympathize with a man who deliberately murders enemies with booby traps? Servalan didn't have the apartment bombed, so all the possible sympathies are left with the authorities. I may have been brainwashed, but I'll take that over being blown up by a man who leaves frying-pan-o-grams around the place.

The dialogue so far has been functional to say the best with cunning bitch Servalan's lethal wit consisting of "Travis, go there and sort it out" while she complains to Clinician Havant (because, you know, calling him Doctor Havant like the original would be far too dated and audience-unfriendly). Blake has left an abusive vodcast out on the internet where he basically shouts "The Government is corrupt!" with no evidence or clarification. They're just bad, mmkay? Of course, no proper democracy would ever employ a woman like Servalan who appears to be more interested in how much she can move her tongue while speaking than the rights of the working man.

London is placed in lockdown as the really-really-deeply-pathetic "Travis" feebly begs his army to search for "Supervising Engineer Roj Blake" in as drammatic a manner as possible. Because, you know, they always wait until all the armed forces are right outside before explaining any kind of objective. What exactly does Blake's job description have to do with anything? If you're going to recreate Blake as a lethal terrorist with no interest in collatoral damage, why keep his job the same? Make him a schoolteacher like Nation wanted if you really want to get under the skin of the audience... You let this guy near YOUR children. Mr Frying-Pan-O-Gram-Of-Death. As "Travis" continues in his quest to make himself Actor Worse Than Chip Jamison, he reminds us all that Blake is a career terrorist and completely ruthless. Begs the question of why you let him have an apartment block in Shephard's Bush, really, doesn't it?

Servalan is not best pleased that "the most popular opposition leader of the last 100 years" on the loose with all those unexplained nasty memories back in place. How the hell did Roj "Frying Pan of DOOM" Blake get so popular? Do Londoners dig the fact he will kill to get ahead in the game or something? Has everyone taken out insurance on their homes in the hope he can bomb them? Was he just really popular on Ant and Dec? These questions, along with how the hell Federation brainwashing didn't take (or why their society is so anarchic given their ability to rewrite the minds of their citizens) are ignored. Havant has absolutely no idea how Blake regained these still unexplained memories back, but reveals that, on the offchance, the Federation implant homing devices in the little fingers of their subjects. On the offchance the brainwashing fails and they turn into terrorists, you know. Standard procedure. If only they had security cameras everywhere, but this is a world that barely has mobile phones...

Hmm. A man with an imbedded homing beacon on the run from a conspiracy that involved mind-wiping... this is Total Recall! Except Total Recall didn't suck! In fact, it was closer to the original Way Back with Arnie's character being an ordinary Joe whose life is turned upside down when he suddenly realizes he was someone else. Instead, we get all this from the evil authority's point of view. Which of course makes us care a damn about the so-called central character of this. Having seen Derek Riddell in Tooth & Claw and the much-better-as-a-Who-spin-off-than-Torchwood, Shakespeare Retold: Much Ado About Nothing, I have to say he seemed a decent bet as Blake 2.0. However, he definitely suffers McCoy syndrome more than the others. When he confronts one of his followers about their loyalty to the cause, he barely sounds like he cares. On TV, he might have been deliberately being coy, or icy controlled, or maybe just exhausted from his flight from justice. Here, it sounds very much like he's trying to read the script and the newspaper simultaneously.

Having somehow known about the implant, Blake cuts off his own finger, drops in the luggage of some poor schmuck getting on a spaceship, then - bleeding profusely, because he's REALLY thought this through - staggered back to the home of his old pal Ravella. Since this is audio, it's quite possible to leave Blake as a four-fingered man, but no, it seems any decent first aide kit can REGROW limbs with nanites. Coz... 23rd century. They don't use nanites anywhere else, of course, like say in weaponry or security. Blake is completely annoyed at the collapse of the rebel movement after he sent a vodcast telling them to do just that (in one of the first bits of ripped off dialogue, Ravella says "You were very convincing." Right. You saw a youtube vid and didn't suspect your corrupt government had ANYTHING to do with it. You deserve to be oppressed).

Showing the usual consistency of the script so far, Ravella explains that actually, they didn't really abandon the cause of freedom just because of Blake (despite what she said five seconds previous), but they actually all individually sold out to the Federation to save their own lives. What kind of extremists are you!? What the hell did the Federation bother programming Blake instead of just rounding up all the subversives and threatening to kill them all? Why not brainwash the lot of them?

Blake meanwhile shows himself to be as intelligent and cunning as the old Frying Pan gag suggested. After Ravella explains she sold out, and that she's drugged Blake to knock him out so she can call the authorities, he keeps asking her what choice she's made? For fuck's sake, Blakey boy, the fact she's saying she's "so so sorry" as you lose consciousness MIGHT just be construed as a clue...

And so the end of chapter one. Dear God. Gareth Roberts noted that only someone TRULY talented could screw up a part one. How little did he know...


CHAPTER TWO: Enemy of the State

"When one's being crucified, it's always good to know who's banging in the nails..."

Well, we're half way through the plot of The Way Back, and hasn't it been shite so far? This chapter cuts to the robot-run court of law as Blake is put on trial for... child molestation. Did we turn two pages at once? Why does the Federation need this to discredit Blake when he HAS no credit? All his supporters are on their payroll and the man himself is guilty of five deaths, arson, terrorism and perverting the course of justice! Why, if the Federation is so fucking corrupt and evil does it need to give a trial AT ALL?!

Certainly, anyone listening to this anew would be baffled as to where the hell these kiddy fiddling charges have come from, and judging the quite insane behavior of Blake we've seen ("I shall cut off my own finger - you never know, there might be a tracking device in there!"), should we really put such stuff past this "charismatic" psychopath? Simply announcing he's disgusted at the trivial use of this huge narrative concept (well, let's pretend that's what he's disgusted at), Blake fires his lawyer and decides to defend himself. Presumably with frying pans, high explosives and bread knives.

As there's no hint of any kind that Blake's lawyer is bent, this seems remarkably foolish. Nevertheless, the judge decides to let the foolish Blake defend himself because, you know, multiple rapists and child abusers should be indulged, surely? When the prosecution accuses Blake of being an obvious guilty man mocking the judicial system, I can only nod in agreement. So will you as Blake explains that he doesn't expect to get a fair trial and asks for "four years to overthrow the current government".

Oh ha fucking ha.

Actually, to be fair, rubbish fourth-wall breaking aside, that's not a bad joke. I can easily imagine some Little Britain/Fast Show catchphrase character constantly justifying his procrastination on the grounds he has to overthrow the government before going to the laundrette. But this is not a sketch show. This is supposed to be serious science fiction. Or at least drama. Yes, Pizza Supreme. DRAMA!! Blake shows absolutely no interest in the concept of being dubbed a molester of minors, and shows what is generally known of in this solar system as "contempt of court". This is not a smart move, therefore, and begs the questions

a) why should we take this seriously when Blake doesn't?
b) why is the judge so indulgent when she's twice accused of being corrupt?
c) what the hell does Ben Aaronovitch think he's doing using child abuse as COMIC RELIEF?!

Meanwhile, Servalan and Havant watch on in mild disbelief, mainly at the fact this oh-so-corrupt-and-evil regime has allowed Blake to be tried by an independent judge not already under their control and who is indulging a multiple-murderer and accused pedophile. However, clearly everyone on Planet Aaronovitch is unfussed at such hideous acts, as the news reporter on the scene can only deem these charges "pretty serious", and Blake himself forgoes the Traffikanti Defense for the Aaronovitch Defense: "You're all evil and corrupt and I don't have to listen to you, so there!" This, ladies and gentlemens, leave you in no doubt why the A-Man never got a job as a defense attorney.

Now, I myself dabbled in legal studies (out of the sole reason that all my friends were... oh yeah, I was a sheep but at least I was a fashionable sheep), and the fact that the children aren't in court is, as the prosecution notes, completely legal and with precedent. Blake wants to prove that the children aren't just computer sprites by visiting them in person. This would be damned difficult if he was NOT the self-same person accused of sexually abusing them, and yet somehow Blake doesn't seem to think the kids would be brainwashed by the self-same corrupt administration so clearly out to get him. Blake, you aren't just a fool, you're a bloody idiot.

Blake agrees to compromise by getting the judge herself to meet the kids and ascertain whether or not they actually exists, and we learn that not only have the conspirators not put any kind of plan in place for this happening, their contingency consists of trying to intimidate the judge. Who retorts she herself is an ex-soldier and revolutionary. And thus, (legal hat here) not the sort of person to be allowed to judge Blake. It's called in the business a conflict of interest. Aaronovitch is seemingly convinced that judges are literally laws unto themselves and their conduct is controlled only by blackmail - as the judge is willing to let Blake off scot free, despite his very OBVIOUS guilt of other crimes.

So when the big boys come round to intimidate the judge, it is completely unnecessary. I mean, in today's world, she could easily be replaced quite legally. But no, Aaronovitch of the Bailey here wants to play hard ball!

Meanwhile, Servalan turns up to chat with Blake and we discover - rather disappointingly - that this rebooted Bitch in White only got to where she was today by her incredibly rich and powerful family. Not anything to do with her incredible ruthless and double-dealing two-faced evil megalomaniacal genius. And Servalan 2.0 seems to be lacking this something chronic. Since all the signs are that the Federation want this trial to be above board to fool the public, why the hell does the boss of ALL Earth security make a public visit to the prisoner in the dock?! Make your mind up at how corrupt the Federation IS, A-Man, it'll save a lot of time.

Servalan finally reveals (shock!) that the child molestation stuff is totally faked to discredit Blake (cue another gratuitious bit of nicked dialogue). And she has decided to come all the way down here to incriminate herself because... erm... she wants to offer Blake a job. Not that sort, you filthy little monkeys. Servalan agrees that the Federation is on the point of collapse, and the Auronar are just waiting to take over. Yes. The Auronar, those gutless, inane, isolationists who didn't notice two massive space wars involving humanity. This is the equivalent of the "Stuck in the Middle With You" scene from Reservoir Dogs featuring Mother Teresa. Servalan explains that she will threaten the judge's grandchildren to get him convicted, so either he's deported or he works for her.

Um, Servie... WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Let's assume that she's so powerful she can turn up to the jailhouse laughing, "Hah! You are SO innocent because I, Servalan, framed you!" with no comebacks. Let's assume she is devoted to saving humanity from the Auronar. She wants to achieve this by recruiting Frying Pan Blake. Not by brainwashing him, but by blackmailing him. So her best case scenario has mad suicide bomber Blake on her staff. Of the system he idly chats about destroying in public. Why not just shoot him? Clone him if necessary?

Blake chooses deportation over working inside the system he is trying to overthrow (those exact words - what a flair for dialogue old Benny-boy has!). Annoyed, Servalan storms off, clearly forgetting Sherrif Vasey's final word about negotiation: "You don't GIVE them a choice". In order to cap this most completely-missing-the-point sequence of the story so far, Blake decides to quote The Prisoner and says, "Be Seeing You." Why? Because... er... that's what they do in Babylon 5, that's why!

Note: that answer seems to be the mission statement of these audio adventures.

So, the judge has been blackmailed off-screen and we cut to the sentence being carried out as Blake is sentenced to live on a penal planet for the rest of his life. Odd how this corrupt, decadent society doesn't have him taken out the back and shot dead? If a pedophile is sent to a prison planet - let me make this clear, they are sent to ANOTHER planet at the taxpayer's expense - well, what happens to the BIG criminals? Hmmm? Got an answer for that one, Aaronovitch?

All in all, I'm amazed at how Benji turns half an episode into a few scenes and then one scene into a whole episode. Presumably this is the freedom allowed by making all the characters morons and forgetting which century/genre/universe this story is supposed to be set within. And it's pronounced "hay nuss", for the record.


CHAPTER THREE: First Contact

"Good god..."

And so, in less than ten minutes we're now rewriting Space Fall (by the way, great title isn't it? Not planet fall, land fall, but space fall, as in 'arrival in space' of the Liberator). The Beginning managed this in about fifteen minutes cutting from Blake's arrest to sentencing to leaving Earth in a brilliant bit of editing that I never once suspected removed more than the opening titles. Nevertheless, Aaronovitch once again seems to be completely missing the whole raison d'tre of the first four episodes. The reason WHY the alien spaceship doesn't turn up until the last ten minutes allows us to introduce the cast for the episode, their reactions to each other and so on. Without it, not only do you lose the brilliant and edgy state of play (have Vila and Avon ever been as harsh and bereft of hope since?), it causes the whole plot to collapse.

Why do the prison guards send the computer expert, the pilot and the insane rebel - the three people MOST likely to nick the bloody thing - to the spaceship? Because it's killed the important ones. Because those three are the ones in charge of a failed rebellion and who can be sacrificed with less fuss than ever. Because Raiker, Blake and Jenna have a truly nasty love triangle. Take away the first half of the episode, and we have the equivalent of asking vampires to mind the blood bank and when our... main characters, for want of a better term, pinch the motor, you come to the sickening realization that humanity has evolved backwards in the 23rd century. Or maybe just Aaronovitch himself.

The worst bit is, of course, Aaronovitch mindlessly cut and pasting the more memorable dialogue with the same mindless optimism. When Kerr Avon is described as "the number two hacker" we not only have an ugly distortion of the original gag, it comes as a ridiculous joke from a prison warder. Whereas in the original, Vila was making a characteristic dig at Avon while introducing him. It was a good moment of writing. Here, it's like Aaronovitch is grabbing us by the hair and screaming "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!"

And it shows. He keeps the idea that it takes months upon months to travel from Earth to Cygnus Alpha, despite the fact that was only done to give time for the characters to interact. Without it, there's no point making the trip so lengthy, so A-Man decides that all the prisoners are placed in suspended animation for the voyage, ala Pitch Black. Actually, this isn't that bad an idea as it clearly saves the ship on food and oxygen, but again, it's an incredible amount of trouble when surely they could just be shot? And why is such steps taken when the ships here work on hyperspace jumps? In Babylon Five, crossing the civilized galaxy takes no more than a few days via hyperspace, traffic permitting...

And surely if we're using cryogenics, you could have been REALLY radical and had Blake be from another century together, a kind of Demolition Man/Adam Adamant character shocked at the downturn society has taken.

Oh, wait. That would require imagination. My mistake.

We get a new character today, or at least one that isn't a Terry Nation character written incredibly badly. It's India Fisher as Mezin. Now, as anyone who can't block out my insane jabberings knows, I got a lot of time for Indie, and she does pretty well here as the bored, depressed and cynical Federation soldier. Any flaws are, therefore, because she's got less well-thought-out motives and characterization than Dainer, that guard in Space Fall who was a good friend of Vila but still mowed down prisoners without flinching. Mezin is ugly - end of story. Check out Indie's performance as Sentris and it shows you she can do wonders with competent material. Hell, the average Charley script by Nick Briggs gives her better stuff to do than this.

It's a curse of every writer under the sun to focus on certain characters because they're more interesting than others. It's just a fact. Rob Holmes did it. Saward did it. Moffat does it too. Sometimes it's because the character is more complex and dynamic than the others, it's the one the writer knew best or because you actually created the character in question. None of this explains exactly what is up with Jenna and Avon this week. Did Aaronovitch not care enough about their characters to get them even vaguely right? Or, more terrifyingly, he gave them all the care and attention he could give?

"Strictly white collar" Avon comes across as much like the character Paul Darrow played as David Tennant does of being a Christopher Eccleston impersonator. No, that's too close a match. Salmon's Dr. Moon character is closer to Avon than this chap. Despite Salmon's vocal similarity to Darrow, his second line of dialogue in the show is be turned on at the idea of auto-erotic-asphyxiation. Not exactly the reserved, upper class aristocrat who has lived this long by being totally inscrutable. Again, Avon 2.0 is not so much a rubbish character, but that he's supposed to be a cooler version of Avon 1. He's not supposed to be auditioning for the role of Nigel Verkoff on heat.

But Avon is just the original in dark glasses compared to Jenna. I was... not REALLY impressed with Carrie Dobro as Dureena in Crusade. But that could be down to the script who makes a compulsive thief, tunnel rat and alien schizophrenic unable to say two words without bursting into Shakespearian monologues of COMPLETELY unnecessary exposition. As Cally, she might have been good. As Jenna, she's a rabid feral Leela type character who at first I assumed had gone insane from cryosleep. But no. How exactly does a nutter like this last as an infamous smuggler and pilot? Again, had it been Cally, I might have bought her desperation, but this leads to a complete change of personality. The only point of her waking up psychotic is to allow Benji to have a girl fight and put Jenna in bondage devices from The Liesure Hive but have been nicked from Babylon Five by mistake. Yay.

Some plot. Blake, Avon and Jenna are defrosted to act as Canaries (in the Red Dwarf sense of the term) to salvage a freaking huge alien derelict from plunging into a star because... well... er. The crew want to salvage it for some reason. As they don't seem to be the inquisitive type, and there's no mention of prize money for salvage, I'm at a loss, especially why they didn't just email Earth to sort it out. And is an alien craft so big a deal when the Auronar are muscling in on human territory? Come to think of it, even if the terrible trio can be trusted not to nick the space ship, it's very unlikely they'll be able to control it anyway, isn't it? Egads, it's like a season one ep of Torchwood as the plot melts like ice cream in the sun...

After some domination kinkyness from Mezin over Jenna (was the A-Man getting a tad frustrated while writing this ep?), she describes her "overwhelming superiority" in terms of space suits, guns and "control collars" until Blake points out that they're wasting the episode with this trash/that they're running out of time to salvage the derelict. With Jenna suddenly transformed into an emotionless ground controller saying things like "good to go", they enter the airlock of the alien.

It's a sad thing I end up wishing that that spooky brain thing that gives you screaming hallucinations and then kills you is waiting for them. It's not a good sign when your Raiker analogue is more interesting, consistent and sympathetic than the three main characters...


CHAPTER FOUR: The Derelict

"Whoever they were, they had an inordinate fondness for robots... there must be hundreds of them!"

While we're on the subject of rewriting... oh, weren't we?... wouldn't it have been better to start with Blake in jail, working as a canary, and then gradually reveal his true nature? Surely it's better than the ADD version we get here, who is compelled to note his innocence to people who don't know/care because, well, A-man has finally twigged that a central character uninterested in being thought of as a child molester is... BAD?!?

Rather than the spooky alien death hive of the original, this episode the A-Man turns to rip off Rendezvous with Rama. Actually, he probably doesn't, it's obviously too much for me to expect plagiarism for something vaguely decent, but it's probably Event Horizon. Our Canary Squad arrives aboard the Liberator and we discover the gobsmacked Blake was... actually talking crap. That cliffhanger has been retconned out of existence and Jenna undergoes another spurious change of personality, as she mistakes "closing an airlock" for "trapping us inside". Christ, woman, have you forgotten you want to get inside?

The interior of the Liberator is not as mindblowing as it's TV equivalent. And that wasn't mindblowing to start with, but still the Flight Deck was a darn sight more impressive than a really, really, REALLY long corridor and the presence of artificial gravity! Wow! Artificial gravity! Uh... didn't you already have that last week? Does ANYONE pay attention to more than one episode in a row? Christ in a blender, this is AWFUL! I can honestly say there are better Sparacus stories out there... perhaps even better LBC stories!

Mezin decides to split up since the flight deck will be at one end of the corridor and the engines at the other (yes, the A-Man's genius at spacecraft design shows through... not), not realizing that Avon and Blake are already conspiring to escape their collars. Unlike, say, Breakdown where they just get a talented lockpick to help them, Avon plans to defeat one of the five million safety features by... I dunno, sending out an EMP or something. It'll all be irrelevent in the next episode anyway, won't it? Meanwhile, Jenna and Mezin find the end of the endless corridor in about three seconds flat and Jenna's former personality resurges as they discover a bucket full of skutter/DRD/repair droids that scuttle around the place for that 'spring-loaded cat' horror film vibe. Exactly why a rebooted Liberator needs repair bots rather than self-regenerating circuitry as it used to(like in Bab 5... what a coincidence!) I dunno. I doubt A-Man knows either. Since this installment has absolutely no connection to the very first episode, they could have started here easily.

The story jumps seven hours into the future, giving us ample time to wonder why Menzin panicked at the sight of the robots and contacted Blake rather than her fellow Federation trooper. Despite all the presence of repair droids who are presumably repairing anything and their complete unfamiliarity with the alien technology, the Liberator is very nearly finished with ninety minutes left to change course before it crashes. Blake and Avon spring their collars and our favorite frying-pan-wielding, self-harming terrorist... decides not to slaughter their guard with hot superglue. Which was an option. Where was that moral superiority before you blew up your flat, Blake, you asshole?

When Mezin rolls her eyes and asks what the hell Blake thinks he's doing, I sigh. Not only is it utterly agonizingly obvious what he is trying to do, it also flags up the sheer ridiculous manner by which he is trying to do it. Basically, A-Man has jammed the theft of the Liberator along with the siege on the London, missing the point that while Blake has the engines, he can't actually control the ship. It's like hiding in the engine of a car and saying you can drive it from within. It don't work like that, Benji!

Mezin points out that threatening Nameless Trooper is not going to help since, duh, they're all ruthless and corrupt, and she can easily use her kinky bondage restraints to choke Jenna to death. Who? Oh right. Her. Like I care. Blake may be up and down like a manic barometer switching from Gandhi to Guerilla and back again, but apart from proving impossible to stay in character, Jenna has done sweet FA to justify her presence in the show this week. She doesn't fancy Blake, she's not got the street cred of Avon, she is superfluous. Blow her head off, Indie. Nova had a better claim to be in this show than Jenna 2.0. Even if they got Peter Davison's daughter to play her, it wouldn't help.

It'd make the kinkyness betwixt her and Indie damned interesting, but it wouldn't help.

Well, while we were all imagining THAT, the trooper has been spouting out Babylon Five episode titles ("The Corps is mother, the Corps is father! No Surrender, No Retreat! Late Delivery from Avallion! And The Rock Cried Out No Hiding Place! Z'hah'dum!"), and Avon finds this completely stupid. He becomes more like Avon.1 as Blake folds like a house of cards and surrenders.

To save the life of a woman he has known less time than it took me to download this.

Why? Because that's kinda what happened in Space Fall, that's why! Except, of course, Blake was traumatized by the deaths of all his comrades in the first episode, had lived with the crims for eight months, and all of them were being sadistically executed by Raiker even though Blake had not tried the similar trick of hostages. In Space Fall, Avon is reluctant but accepts Blake's orders to stand down (he sure as hell didn't have to do what Blake said otherwise), as the situation was impossible. Make no bones, in this situation, Captain Jack woulda told Mezin to waste the bitch...

"There is a point where unwarranted optimism becomes a pathology," Avon sighs as Blake and Jenna take turns in wise cracks and ignoring the whole 'we nearly got away' business. He could be describing the fan base in their adulation of this series. Dear GOD! How could anyone enjoy this when they'd seen the original! I dread to think what these audios might be like if they keep to this standard. No doubt the final shootout on Gauda Prime will have everyone say a self-aware catchphrase as they get shot, with Blake presumably warning Avon that if he shoots the rebel leader will not be struck down but become more powerful than ever before...

"You think we should meekly accept our fate?" Blake sneers, clearly assuming making unfunny 'oh wait, we're tied up' jokes counts as calculated psychological warfare. Again, why didn't Mezin kill them all, exactly? I mean, she ties them up, so the ship is still working. Why are these prisoners still alive? This is supposed to be a world of corruption and tyranny, remember? Aaronovitch? Huh? You WROTE the first three episodes, hello?

However, Avon actually seems to have a brain and has programmed the auto-defense system of the Liberator to kick in, causing an emergency that will force Mezin to free them. I'd be impressed, except there's no explanation how Avon managed this stunt, or why he's surprised when the skutters become psychotic. No cool telepathic electrified blob here. Amazingly enough, Blake is able to just about deduce that maybe Avon had a hand in things as they find themselves surrounded by insane robots. However, Jenna can set her glue-gun to self destruct (me: what the fuck?!) and buy them enough time for Avon to explain he hasn't quite worked out how to stop the insane army of metallic death. "We're so screwed!" wails Mezin, clearly hoping than moaning a catchphrase from Farscape can save their sorry asses...

Which it does! As Mezin finally twigs to this brilliant plan, Blake reveals that he always knew who Avon was because of some missing scene where he read up on who he was being cryogenically frozen with. As you do. Meanwhile, Mr. Raiker notes that the nine hours are up and the Liberator is going to crash, so they haul ass out of here and leave the prisoners and Mezin (I assume the other guy got eaten by the robots) to certain death.

All I can think of is... why can't you come up with proper character names, Benji? Why? What have I done to deserve this??


CHAPTER FIVE: No Surrender

"A pedophile, a thief and a smuggler! Some choice..."

I'm still trying to understand the cliffhanger to the previous installment. Yes, it's clear that our "heroes" are trapped on a doomed spaceship as their flight home (finally and casually named London) hurtles off to safety, in a neat inversion of Space Fall - there, the Liberator was the one that hurtled off leaving the evil Federation psycho to plunge to into infity. Here, the Liberator stays where it is. I might be able to appreciate this divergence better if I was actually sure what Ben Aaronovitch was attempting with this reboot.

My point is, the Liberator seemed to be in perfect working order, so why didn't they switch on the breaks instead of running for the London? Why did Mezin leave it so long to give up? Yes, I know about the robot attacks and the prisoner revolts, but if she'd knocked off early, they'd all be safe! And it's not as if everyone doesn't know how they're going to get out of this mess, is it?

What's that, skip? They'll fix the Liberator and fly away? Wow!

"Helloooo, guys, planet crash ship burn we die!" Jenna drawls after Avon, Blake and Mezin get into a tedious argument of the government lying and generally being evil and corrupt. I'm honestly not sure which is worse, but Jenna is certainly more embarrassing to listen to. Jenna.1 would have ignored them and worked out a plan, what with her being a brilliant, cutthroat pilot and experienced smuggler. And not sounding like the bastard lovechild of Sandi Griffin and Chip Jamison (yeah, I know, but seriously Chip, your talent would honestly be wasted in crap like this. Keep up the good work, fellah).

Blake's plan is "to switch on the engines and escape in the nick of time". Avon considers this distastefully simple, yet clearly hadn't thought of it. Or anything else. Come on, man, throw yourself out to airlock and try to free fall it! It's what the Real Avon tried to do in this sort of situation. Meanwhile, Mezin rings up the London to ask for some free information on trajectories. Not to bitch that her so called comrades ditched her. Just trajectory stuff. The sort of thing I thought Jenna would have a gut instinct for. Raiker is certain that the Liberator is too big to provide the huge amount of thrust required to escape... yeah, because a ship that gigantic can only provide the momentum of a flatulent flea. It'd be stupid to expect otherwise.

But, get this, it does! And Raiker tapes the whole thing so he can put it on youtube.

"I've been driving ships since I was twelve years old, Ay-varn!" Jenna shouts after the Hacker By Appointment asks her if it might be a good idea for her to use the flight computer rather than positive thinking to fly a giantic alien spacecraft out of a gravity well. "JAZZ TERN THER DAM THENGS ARN, AY-VARN!!" she adds as Avon realizes that maybe if they reactivate the self-repair systems, they might self-repair the ship, despite Blake's cunning objection it will also wake up all the robots Avon drove insane.

But it doesn't. For some reason. Presumably the same reason that both the London and the Liberator have their reactors set to 'idle' when the pilots want to park. Has the A-Man forgotten which bleeding species built this ship? AGAIN? Meanwhile, Jenna has to remind Mezin that her crew abandoned her to die and suggests that together they junior bird man their way to freedom. Avon suggests they blow her head off if she doesn't and Mezin sighs, "You guys... I know I'm going to regret this!" like she's some frat girl making mischief. And not a career soldier throwing her life away with a bunch of idiots with wandering personalities.

You're gonna regret this, Indie? I already am!

Back on Earth, Servalan has been promoted to the "grandiose title" of Supreme Commander. Except, I SWEAR she was already that in episode one. Maybe those with ADHD aren't meant to be the audience, but the author? Why has she been promoted? For letting a terrorist blow up half of London, call the Federation into question and then nobble the judge? If so, how did she get promoted - no one's supposed to know! She then goes to flirt with Guisborne, sorry, Travis, who sulking and broody and his fiance is giving him the hard shoulder. Hang on, this IS Gizzy! With a truly palpable sense of depression, Gizzy explains to Servalan that he's seen a youtube video that Blake's escaped in a huge alien warship. Servalan insists that everything will be fine and they should get into the caviar niblets and the champagne as the most charismatic and insane opposition leader with an alien death machine of unknown origins isn't their problem.

*the reviewer bursts into tears and falls over the keyboard, sobbing uncontrollably*


To Be Continued!

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Other Points of View

I sent this out to a competition back in 2005, the prize being for it to be performed on stage. The other entry I sent was a cheap skit based on Tom Baker driving a producer to try to kill him. Niether was accepted. So it's their loss, obviously. Screw the lot of them. If I remembered who they were, I'd name them and damn the consequences. You got off lightly this time, generic drama competition. My dyspraxia won't always be there to save you...

Enlightenment (AKA "Give Me Strength")

[Two men, DAVE and ANDREW stand around a pool table in the middle of a game. Two beers rest on a nearby table next to two stools. The air is that of a late night at the local pub. After striking the balls, ANDREW looks up off stage while DAVE shoots the cue.]

ANDREW: That’s the third time today Johnson’s been to the toilet.

DAVE: You think it’s significant?

ANDREW: Maybe. Maybe he’s meeting someone.

DAVE: In the gents?

ANDREW: Wouldn’t surprise me. That guy gives me the creeps.

DAVE: [ROLLS EYES] So that automatically means he’s gay?

ANDREW: Could be.

DAVE: Sometimes I think you’re homophobic.

ANDREW: Do you?

DAVE: Yeah.

ANDREW: Maybe.

[A thoughtful pause. They sip their drinks and play pool for a moment.]

ANDREW: I mean, it’s not an entirely bad thing, is it?

DAVE: Yes it is!

ANDREW: Hey, I’m not saying it’s an entirely good thing, just saying there is a silver lining.

DAVE: What kind of silver lining is there to being a bigot?

ANDREW: Oh, I dunno...

[ANDREW looks around the stage at invisible clientelle.]

ANDREW: Let’s say for example that that bloke over there...

[DAVE turns to look in the indicated direction.]

ANDREW: [QUICKLY] Don’t look!!

[DAVE turns back to face ANDREW.]

ANDREW: [CONTINUING] ...is, in fact, an axe-wielding homicidal maniac. Who just happens to be gay. Now, if you were homophobic, you’d be glancing at him all the time, certain he’s up to something. He’s picking up that pint glass... Is he going to throw it? No? No, he’s just drinking from it... But he might have thrown it... In a queer fashion.

DAVE: You’re talking crap.

ANDREW: Am I? The point is, this hypothetical homophobe is so riddled with paranoia he’s ready for the first sign of trouble. So when our homosexual axe-murder makes his move, the homophobe knows what to do.

DAVE: And what’s that?

ANDREW: Run away. Scream. Duck. Depends on the situation, really.

[ANDREW makes another move in the pool game.]

DAVE: Utter, utter crap. Homosexuals don’t go round killing people, Andrew.

ANDREW: Oh, typical. It’s just us straight people who are axe-wielding homicidal maniacs! How prejudiced can you get!

DAVE: OK, OK, but not all homosexuals are killers. Some, maybe, I suppose – statistical probability and all that. But the chances are that this gay bloke or woman is just a gay bloke or woman and is not preparing to run around wielding axes and killing people.

ANDREW: You try telling that to a homophobe.

DAVE: [MOVES TO SHOOT] I just did. [PAUSE] I think.

ANDREW: I admit that, 9 times out of 10 this homophobe on the look out for gay psychotics will be wrong and he’s leaping to the wrong conclusion. But that means that at least 1 time out of 10 he’s going to be right and that axe is aimed right for your neck!

DAVE: And that’s a good thing?

ANDREW: Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be wrong and embarrassed than accurate and dead. Rather have a whole pub turn on you for your backward, intolerant phobia than being PC and beheaded.

DAVE: So, you’re saying we should all be homophobes and live a life of bigotry and hatred just on the off-chance there happens to be a serial killer sitting at the next table?

ANDREW: [OBLIVIOUS TO ANY SARCASM] Yeah, why not?

DAVE: Why not?

ANDREW: Yeah, I mean, it’s nothing personal. We’re on the look out for psychopaths who just happen to be gay, not all gay people. I dare say a heterophobe would come in handy as well in that line of work.

DAVE: Finding straight people who are murders?

ANDREW: Makes sense, Dave.

DAVE: [SHAKES HEAD] You have got big problems, you know that.

ANDREW: Problem shared, problem doubled Dave. No, wait, I got that bit wrong...

DAVE: Besides, you wouldn’t be a true homophobic would you? You’d be a psycho-phobic or something like that.

ANDREW: Yeah, that wouldn’t be very practical now you come to mention it.

DAVE: [CONFUSED] Not very practical??

ANDREW: Unless I was in a gay club or something, there’s a good chance some of the clientelle are straight. If I’m busy checking the gays for any signs of murderous intent, that’ll leave me open to the straight murderers. And if I concentrate on the straights, the gays will be after me.

DAVE: Can’t you concentrate on all of them?

ANDREW: [EXASPERATED] Try to take this seriously, Dave!

[He guides DAVE to stand facing one half of the audience.]

ANDREW: Look, I’ll be the hypothetical homophobe looking for hypothetical gay murderers and you be the hypothetical heterophobe looking for hypothetical straight murderers.

DAVE: Why do I have to be the heterophobe?

ANDREW: Because it's either that or be the homophobe. And you sort of gave the impression that I rather suited that role.

DAVE: [SIGHS LOUDLY] Fine. I’m the heterophobe.

[ANDREW moves to stand opposite DAVE.]

ANDREW: OK.

DAVE: Wouldn’t work.

ANDREW: Why not?

DAVE: Well, that means I’d be checking you out all the time and you me. You’re the straight guy and I’m not. We can’t rely on each other to watch our own backs.

ANDREW: You can trust me to keep an eye on you, you possibly-homicidal poofter!

DAVE: Yeah, but can I trust you not to stab me in the back?

ANDREW: What? You think I’m some kind of nutter?

DAVE: [PERFECTLY SERIOUS] Yes.

ANDREW: All right, forget the role-playing for now.

DAVE: Who said I was role-playing?

ANDREW: Look, I’m just trying to see the positive aspects of homophobia.

DAVE: But it’s not true homophobia, is it?

ANDREW: Isn’t it?

DAVE: No. It’s homosexual-psychopathic-killer-phobia.

ANDREW: Oh. A sort of homo-psycho-phobia.

DAVE: Yes.

ANDREW: What if he’s not a psychopath?

DAVE: What?

ANDREW: What if he’s not a psychopath?

DAVE: He’s trying to attack you with an axe. Don’t you think he’s a psychopath?

ANDREW: Could be a sociopath.

DAVE: All right. Homo-psycho-socio-phobia.

ANDREW: And what if he’s a straight sociopath? It’d be homo-hetero-psycho-socio-phobia.

DAVE: [DRYLY] And what if he’s a zombie?!

ANDREW: Well, it’s be homo-hetero-psycho-socio-necro-phobia.

DAVE: So, you think that a fear of bisexual, axe-wielding corpses is a reasonable thing to have?

ANDREW: Makes sense to me.

DAVE: Garbage. Utter garbage.

ANDREW: So, you’re a bit of a homo-hetero-psycho-socio-necro-skeptic, then?

DAVE: Yes. And there’s nothing I’d rather be.

[DAVE returns to playing the pool game, but pauses when he spots someone and draws ANDREW’S attention towards them.]

DAVE: Hey, Andrew, look. See that lady by the dart board? Does she honestly look like an undead, murderous, sexually amoral killing machine? Seriously?

[ANDREW thinks about this for a worryingly long time.]

ANDREW: ...No.

DAVE: [DELIGHTED] You see.

ANDREW: But then it’s always hard to tell with Asians.

DAVE: Oh, give me strength.

[DAVE shakes his head and walks out. ANDREW is surprised.]

ANDREW: Hey! Dave! You forgot your beer!

[ANDREW hurries after him.]

Monday, September 22, 2008

Nobody understands - BUSINESS IS BUSINESS!!

...to quote the Usurian Collector in The Sun-Makers. A quote which seems to have been at forefront of many a mind during the making of Big Finish's The Ultimate Adventure - that's the fourth "ultimate" the Sixth Doctor had faced so far by my reckoning.

The thing about the Doctor Who stageplays is of course the same as the missing episodes. We want to experience them, but can't, and can only get audio recordings of a palpably visual experience. Oh, how I dined out on the photos and the like in DWM when I was a child - the Third Doctor, the Sixth Doctor, Zog, Daleks, the Cybermen, the Bar Galactica, Crystal being kidnapped by winged demons... the fact it all seemed set in that hanger from Silver Nemesis just made it look cooler. Yet for many years I hadn't the faintest idea what the whole bloody thing was about! What the fuck was Margaret Thatcher doing in it? Why was everyone singing? Why was the David Banks Doctor dressed like Frank N Further with leather and mesh and eyeliner? Who was the little furry dude that was obviously evil? Why was the TARDIS rubbish? And Cybermen being the bitches of the Emperor Dalek - who the hell thought that idea up?! From a starting point, at least Doomsday has the brains to realize that the Cybermen and Daleks would be natural enemies - one wants to recruit every living thing, the other wants to blow them up.

But Big Finish have finally grabbed the script, Colin Baker and David Banks and put it all together.

Of course it was going to be disappointing - apart from anything else, it's by Terrance Dicks. Actually, that's a bit unfair. He doesn't completely screw up everything or hammer in War Games fanwank this time, and the only real trouble is him seemingly unable to go for ten minutes without dropping in quotes like "Earth being a burnt cinder hanging in space" or "they were once men" speech or the "it MEANS it's bigger on the inside" scenes. There's also a rather dodgy running gag of the Doctor speaking alien languages the audience doesn't understand. OK, the screeching like a buzzard in pain might work... but the scene where the Doctor and the Mercenary talks is clearly their conversation played backwards! How dumb do you think I am, Big Finish?!

Speaking of dumb, check out that cover:




Rubbish or what? The original poster was better!

Still, at least for once Nick Briggs has been persuaded to do 80s Cyber-voices instead of New Series ones. It's a shame Banksy refused to play the Cyberleader, though, instead preferring to play the surprisingly-old sounding mercenary Karl, whose main role seems to be 'calm brains of the outfit' as the Daleks and Cybermen have punch-ups. Presumably on stage this allowed the audience 100% certainty of following the plot. On audio, it just makes both alien races look like idiots. If you're going to have 1980s 'emotional' Cybermen, have them show a bit of welly rather come across as Upgraded Arnold Rimmers constantly passing the buck. For some reason Briggsy is doing the Dalek Emperor different as well - a more menacing, growling voice rather than "That's MR God of All Daleks to You, Bitch" voice he normally uses.

The story begins with the Sixth Doctor and his companion Nigel Verkoff... sorry, Jason. Well, he's an oversexed teenager with a ridiculous French accent, I got confused. They have been summoned to Earth via psionic beam text message to visit Number 10. However, proving how unhip and ungroovy they are, the Doctor and Jason arrive at the Prime Minister's house and not the funkadelic nightclub they were supposed to. Margaret Thatcher in Doctor Who might have been cutting edge in 1988, but now it feels like some confused attempt to date the UNIT era. She's certainly not the repressed decrepit psychopath of British Alternative Comedy, so when the Sixth Doctor (the SIXTH Doctor) explains he's scared of her, it just feels stupid. Why? Because she's THATCHER, Vyvyan, that's why!

It transpires that the US Envoy Nicholas Briggs - the one man that all nations trust enough to end the Cold War (cue unsubtle Pertweeesque moralizing from the SIXTH Doctor) - is going to a strip club what with all his funky diplomatic immunity. However, Thatcher has extremely vague and unreliable word that someone intends to kill the Envoy and that someone may not be human. Thus, the world has turned to the Doctor to help. Somehow. Rather than, say, putting the Envoy under house arrest or something. The Doctor and Jason decide to head to the Other Number 10 via TARDIS.

This of course means that by the time they get there, Karl and his mercenaries and Cybermen have been and gone. No doubt, seeing Cybermen storming the stage and nuking people might balance out the fact that they're quite superfluous to the plot, but you have to wonder WHY this evil scheme needs Cybermen AND evil galactic "scum of the galaxyTM" mercenaries? Inexplicably, the one person in the firing line at all times is Crystal. She starts off as an endearingly nervous nightclub singer before going all Starship Trooper on everyone and then turning into Tegan/Peri/Lucie/Donna/annoying unwilling "I don't believe this is a time machine" bint.

Seriously, did we need her whole song? The song where she goes on about how she loves travelling in time and space? Was it an ironic counterpoint to the underlying metaphor that she's actually an annoying cow who doesn't actually like leaving Earth?

Arriving just too late, the Doctor and Jason decide to use the TARDIS "space radar" to seek and locate Karl and his handful of Cyber extras, not realizing that the Dalek Emperor had made them leave a false trail so the Doctor will follow it straight into an ambush - cunning bastard. Alas, Crystal falls on the dematerialization lever in the middle of her skeptical rant, and so the trio turn up on Altair 3 as the Doctor screams at Jason for getting his cheap whores into a time machine. Emerging from the TARDIS, Crystal is immediately mugged by the flying goblin people... for some reason. The Doctor explains the goblin people are actually rather nice and after a few squawked arguments, realize their prey has been and gone.

The Cybermen turn up, so the Altair goblin people beat the shit out of them. The Cybermen return to base and blame everyone else for being crap. Karl, seemingly the only villain with a consistent level of intelligence, points out that the fact he is a galactic mercenary automatically means that the Doctor will head to Delilah's Bar Galactic where every single "scum of the galaxyTM" mercenary works to look for clues.

By jingo, by crikey, he's absolutely right.

We then meet Madam Delilah, who seems to run her soldier for hire business by advertising with showtunes, including Business is Business. There are such wonderful verses as:

They're highly trained, they're highly skilled
Those monster men of mine!
When they attack, your force will be unable to resist 'em!
The more you pay, the more they'll kill
That's the beauty of the system!

Business is business, we always maim to please
Business is business, throughout the galaxies
Come to Bar Galactica, for all-star mercenaries

No job is too large, no job is too small
We'll roll up our sleeves, and we'll tackle them all
From a quick assassination to universal domination
We'll cause constant consternation throughout your constellation...

...over three minutes of this stuff, people.

Yes. You hire out mercenaries. I get it. I dunno, maybe this works better if you can SEE the dancing Vervoids and Draconians?

The Doctor and his companions turn up in their cunning disguises (the Doctor wears a spiky German helmet, Jason wears a silly hat and Crystal a combat jacket), making naughty growling noises as they pretend to be hardened mercenaries themselves. Whatever. This then leads to the kind of exposition Phillip Martin gets regularly beaten up for:

CRYSTAL: A club's a club wherever you go. Long bar, little stage, chairs and tables - looks like a Wild West Saloon with a few extra trimmings.
JASON: What about the customers? I've never seen a more villanous gang of cutthroats in my life!
DOCTOR: They'd be flattered.
CRYSTAL: The opulent looking lady in the low-cut ballgown, queening it in that raised booth over there, I take it that's--
DOCTOR: That's Madam Delilah in person.

Sweet GOD! They've just put the set description in past tense and tried to pass it off as dialogue! Dialogue that points out that this alien Mos Eisley wannabe is exactly the same as Number 10! WHAT?!?! It just gets worse and worse, as the Doctor saves small, cute Bounty Hamster thing Zog from Evil Mercenary Nicholas Briggs. "Look out, Doctor! He's got a dagger!" No shit, Jason. "He's thrown him over the bar! That seems to have impressed Madam Delilah!" ... shut up, Crystal... SHUT UP!!! Have Big Finish forgotten every last damn thing they learned since, oh, I dunno, 1984?! That's FOUR YEARS before Terrance Dicks WROTE this!!! I know they're trying to keep to the script as much as possible, but come on!!

Let's just say that the exposition in this is worse than... actually, I've never known worse! Even Ron "LOG FASTER DOGS!" Mallet understood the audio medium than this. Oh, for the subtlety of Chip Jamison. They even do the "gun in my right hand" stuff.

After trying and failing to get Crystal drunk and attracted to him, Jason tries to look dead hard by picking a fight with a pirate... and Crystal needs to save him. Meanwhile, Delilah tries to get inside the Doctor's pants, a scene incredibly disturbing, especially as the Doctor seems quite up on the idea. "But I'm not free," the Time Lord says sadly, making me wonder if the Doctor has become a prostitute...

Karl stumbles in, more pissed than Jack Sparrow, and shouts that the Doctor is actually the same one on all the wanted posters, turning the entire clientelle psychotic. Oh no, it seems Karl's intelligence has fluctuated as well as all the other mercenaries start trying to fight. The Doctor, now hunted by everyone, decides that shouting "Back to the TARDIS!" is a good move. Zog runs in and tries to be sickeningly cute, what with the only one to understand his furry language is the Doctor. No wonder everyone thinks Zog is really an evil alien with his own agenda. I begin to wonder if Crystal is just as bad, I mean, she's almost psychotic to the level of Dara Hamilton.

But the whole point of Zog is for a cute teddy bear to join the TARDIS crew. Yet, we can't see him. And he can't talk. And everything he does needs to be narrated - very badly - by Crystal. Dear God. You seeing my problems with this? Since Terrance Dicks is on hand, couldn't they get him to fix this? Or... scary thought... maybe he DID. Maybe, yet again, no one has the balls to tell him he's gone insane and no longer has an iota of realistic prose inside his gargantuan body.

Anyway, after a completely stupid scene where Jason and Crystal insist that it is a race against time to get the Envoy back (um... time machine?), the Daleks somehow summon the TARDIS to their space ship and start shouting for the Doctor to come out and die like a man. When he doesn't, they just sit there, coming up with more and more extravagant threats. Yeah, sure, I believe you can use sonic waves to kill them all. Whatever. Oh, hang on. They CAN do that. My bad.

The play vaguely hits a good note as the Doctor gives a lengthy, obviously-cut-and-pasted-from-The-Making-of-Doctor-Who description of the evil Daleks, only for Nigel, sorry, Jason to roll his eyes and mutter, "Oh, don't hold back, Doctor, tell us what you really think."

Luckily, a convenient meteor storm strikes the ship, so the TARDIS crew shove the panicking Daleks out a door and leaves Crystal and Jason to pilot the craft through the storm. Good god it is awful. The Doctor is forced to whip out his sonic screwdriver - so... The Nightmare Fair IS canon? - but is too late. The Daleks storm back in, reminding everyone that they're actually armed bastards and threaten to exterminate the Doctor and company. So, what was the freaking point of the dogde-the-asteroids skit?

End of Part One. Intermission.

Part Two. Later that evening. But blogger ate that.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Torchwood - Captain Jack's Big Finish

She's got a heart of gold, she'd never let me down
But you're the woman who always turns me on
You keep me coming round
I know that love is true
But it's so damn easy making love to you

I've got my made up, I need to feel your touch
I'm gonna run to you...

Yeah, I'm gonna run to you!
Coz when the feeling's right
I'm gonna run all night
I'm gonna run to you...

Tomorrow, The Stolen Earth screens on the ABC - completely stuffing up any casual fan yet to see The Sarah-Jane Adventures or Torchwood the Second. When I was reviewing it, I niavely assumed it linked up with their respective season finales, but I was wrong. I admit that now. For a start, all of the junior cast of SJA are out in the countryside away from Dalek Invasions, and Gwen and Ianto are wearing different clothes. I'm not really sharp when it comes to clothes (until I saw The Twin Dilemma, the only problem I had with the Sixth Doctor's outfit was how damn long it took to draw), but no. Apparently much time has passed betwixt Grey's Revenge and the Dalek Dust Device of Death, and this is one of those missing stories.

Putting Torchwood on radio was, in my view, like handing out magnifying glasses to admire the Emperor's New Clothes. For a start, you'll notice how calm and composed Jack is compared to his TV version - mainly because he hasn't run around Camelot twice before each take, so when he's in the middle of a life or death struggle, he doesn't sound like he's even been told to break into sweat. It's the mirror opposite of Sylvester McCoy, who often seems to record whole stories in one take in the middle of a marathon (yet he's so much better in BBV? I wonder why?). The opening scene where he has a (for Torchwood) long philosphical discussion about a Weevil's dress sense with a bouncer case in point. It would have been a touch cleverer if the bouncer had gone "Oh, HIM! He's a regular..." or something like that. Never has Jack's opening monologue seemed more pompous and completely unnecessary, or the theme music so redundant.

I also get a feeling that this story was actually meant to be made for TV. For example, the story opens with Jack getting a mobile call from Martha during a weevil chase as Ianto and Gwen fight in the background, giving such enthusiastic shouts and fights it's like a radio version of Monkey Magic. On TV it could work with Jack on the foreground chattering away on the phone as a Love & Monsters style fight occurs in the background, but on audio it's like Ianto and Gwen are trying to upstage JB.

I'd just like to point out that this episode doesn't seem to have a title or credit, so I had to go to wikipedia to find out it is Lost Souls by Joe Lidster. I'd never have guessed - the story is incredibly linear, and bar some "rough deal about Owen and Tosh huh?" scenes, almost entirely free of emotional introspection. There's also Jack reusing his Nightingale gag about Martha which smacks of DWAD-style parasitic recycling, rather than the bloke who cheerfully kicks logic and continuity in the balls to make a decent twist.

Lost Souls is undoubtedly the most topical and up-to-the-minute-on-the-pulse Torchwood story ever. Nothing else in Doctor Who comes close. This is a good thing and a bad thing. The bad thing is in the week it's taken me to download and listen to, it's old news. The genuine fear and worry it had on offer is now as pointless as Night of the Comet - once Halley's Comet has passed and no one turned to dust, it's kind of hard to get worked up about the film again.

In this case, it is the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland, which has been in the news recently - mainly for the terrifying concept they'd accidentally unleash a black hole and destroy the entire Earth. Now, it sounds ridiculous in hindsight, but not so much at the time (ah, the heady days of a week ago). Andrew Denton (admitting live on TV all his knowledge of science is from Doctor Who) brought this possible doomsday scenario to my attention, deliberately drowning out the expert's rather sensible point that any such black hole would barely threaten an atom. Nevertheless, the day of the testing ABC radio went Doomsday-theme. James Valentine found new and ingenious methods to stop working and simply played relevent apocalyptic bits of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, while Richard Glover with his usual brain-donor enthusiasm played REM's song fifteen times and asked people to ring up and guess why he was playing it.

For a few hours, I honestly wondered if this might be the end. I wasn't freaking out - give me a choice between instant spaghettification and Threads, I'll be the one with the T-shirt saying I'm With Omega -->.

But the world didn't end. It didn't tremble. There was a white spot on a TV screen and scientists cheered.

So when Jack gleefully informs Gwen and Ianto that the LHC might trigger the destruction of life on Earth, it sounds really... really stupid. Mainly because is clearly taking the piss at the time. This is why Millennium Shock vaguely works today, since people were vaguely taking it seriously.

Back to the action. The Torchwood Institute is still shown to be the laughing stock of proper anti-alien organizations, and unknown to the populace at large, and Martha Jones even admits she's only contacted Jack and the others because she is really, really super desperate, and is so ashamed of being with them she gives the Torchwood Trio false identities while in Switzerland. This allows Ianto to camp it up like Servalan in drag as the Welsh Ambassador, musing "I know the feeling," when one of the scientists moans about working in an underground base full of technobabble. Gwen meanwhile is horrifically smart and professional, as if Tosh at the point of death downloaded her mind into the unstable lady cop. Jack meanwhile clearly considers chatting to Martha again a higher priority than damn near anything to do with the plot, and is showing the same Alpha Male disrespect of Martha's fiance that he showed Rhys. Odd how an omnisexual like him is acting so... primitive.

People have been vanishing in the underground base, many complaining of headaches beforehand, but only one of them is still around to quizz, but he is struck down by a malaise that Martha J makes it very VERY clear she has NEVER ever SEEN before! So, add that to the BBC Books writer's guidelines, capiche?

I'm not 100% clear what the problem is as, when Torchwood use their special X-ray specs (as shown in the book, Another Life), it causes the victim to glow and turn transparent and mutter strange biblical things. Ianto finds this see-through bloke 'disgusting', despite the fact he was happy enough to see him sans flesh two minutes ago. Is this a sign of an incipient nervous breakdown? Martha certainly is worried that Jack, Gwen and Ianto are going off the deep end without the stabilizing influences of Owen and Tosh (who had a massive funeral service we never actually got to see). Yeah, I laughed at the idea too. Especially when Martha tells Jack not to blame himself for their deaths just because he recruited them... Hello? They died because of his evil brother! Yes Jack is responsible for their deaths! He's also responsible for the massive drop in Cardiff's population thanks to Weevils, atom bombs and salmonella! Whining about Owen and Tosh because they had coffee together seems to be the height of selfishness.

Just as Jack starts to suspect that Martha only invited them around out of sheer pity at their pathetic life (what with her clearly thinking a sonic screwdriver more helpful than most of the cast), he suddenly notices that the glowy transparent skeletal man is dissolving on atomic level! I bet he and Martha were getting chronic deja vu when Davros revealed his evil masterplan that works the exact same way... and that he was stealing planets... gosh, Journey's End was unoriginal, wasn't it? But never mind, Jack remembers one of his Time Agency jaunts (you know, the ones that were mostly erased from his mind over two thousand years ago), of some kind of freaky alien monster that ate people on the subatomic level...

...the QUARKS!

Nah, just joshing, but it makes more sense to call the freakazoid that than the cute boxy robots. During one of the LHC's tests, it allowed a rift to form in the fabric of reality... stop me if you've heard this before... and allowed one of these bastards loose! And the suspiciously normal scientist in charge (who I think is Lisa "Benny Summerfield" Bowerman, but I might be wrong) might be in on it. Jack immediately runs into the room as they're about to start and screams the "21st century is where it all changes" stuff. No one - and I mean no one - is impressed and note that his anti-alien-invasion-spiel is a complete non sequiter since, you know they're very human scientists doing something which has nothing to do with aliens. So they completely and utterly ignore him. Not that this seems to bother Jack much. Meanwhile, Gwen and Ianto are on bicycles riding around a particle accelerator looking for a monster and bored out of their skulls.

Ah. Can you feel the hatred for the TV series? I warm my frosty digits on it...

Finally, the lost souls of the title turn up. As Ianto marvels that his bike has a bell on it (...yes, that IS nice, isn't it, Ianto?) a typically-filtered androgynous voice calls out to him. Is it Visteen Crane? Is it Pandora? Is it the Spirits of the Mountain? Or Samuel Hower? Or the Scourge? Whoever the hell it is, it's not remotely convincing as it puts on a dodgy accent and calls Ianto "coffee boy" or claims to be "Toshie". Finally it does a halfway convincing impression of Lisa, but Ianto doesn't fall for it a moment. In fact, he seems totally bored by the whole thing. Slightly upset, but totally bored. But when the voices Lisa and Gwen shout at him, Ianto goes bonkers with his usual impeccable timing and starts screaming that, on second thoughts, he DOES want to be with the ghosts. Jeez.

Martha finds the rest of the quantum-munched people in a sealed off building and - pausing only to tell Jack to get off his posterior and actually do something about the particle accelerator test which will unleash more monsters upon the Earth - finds that her immediate superior, a UNIT chap called Oliver, is in fact the evil bastard behind all this. A real "I worship aliens who bring back the dead cause they're angels and do incredibly unconvincing impersonations of people yeah I trust them" Guy Crayford sort of gig.

Back at the ranch, Jack actually gets round to telling the chief scientist (who isn't actually Lisa Bowerman. Shame) to switch off the LHC. But chief scientist doesn't know how. Ahah! With sudden, divine insight and no foreshadowing whatsoever, she reveals she will... REVERSE THE POLARITY!

Please don't hit me. I didn't write this.

As Whining Bitch Ianto starts to glow and turn transparent, Gwen desperately contacts Jack for advice. Jack points out that he's a tad busy since he's having an armed siege as Oliver comes in with a shotgun. Nevertheless, like Martha before him, he has the unerring ability to come up with a practical course of action: run away from the alien monsters. Sweet Onion Chutney, were they ALL so utterly stupid or have I only just noticed? I mean... hell! Or was Martha right and they're all on the brink of total psychosis.

Jack tries to explain to Oliver that the particle accelerator isn't actually a doorway to heaven, but it becomes obvious after about twelve seconds he is completely and utterly insane and it gets damn tedious listening to Martha trying to use logic. Once again, why the hell is Jack so fearful of getting shot? Just charge the bastard and show him some REAL supernatural abilities! Chief Scientist reveals that she doesn't believe a single word that anyone in this room has been screaming at each other, but she's going to switch off the machine. Because, er, she wants to waste millions of dollars for something she doesn't believe in... I think Jack's gag that he's making this up as he goes along could be a bit of self-criticism by Lidster. How the hell did they disarm Oliver anyway?

Apparently, the genuine CERN research facility are big fans of Torchwood (wow... they really do go mental down there...), and helped script this story, albeit with a caveat that the CERN isn't invaded by madmen and ghosts, so it's interesting to spot the script cut from hardcore technobabble and usual TW grittyness as they once again fail to save speaking characters and prevent a depressed, miserable downbeat ending. On the other hand, considering the happy ending of Something Borrowed, maybe this is actually a blessing in disguise. The final scene has Ianto and Gwen, rather pissed off, demand to know why the fuck aliens keep trying to invade and what Jack's '21st century' spiel actually means. Jack gives a long confusing philosophical ramble and then asks for some coffee.

The end.

Well, I have to say that... at the end of the day... deep down... I think I might have been better off with my world where Exit Wounds lead directly into The Stolen Earth. After all, a radio story that might as well have been called Unquiet Dead 2: This Time It's The Hex Particle, is already on a backfoot on the "Consider Me Canon" ladder. John Barrowman and Freema Agyeman also show that they're... well, not crap... but certainly not as good acting in a recording booth than osmotically feeding off each other's performances. Robbed of the visual medium, Ianto comes across as ridiculously smug and camp, while I dare say many a listener would wonder why no one mentions that the Welsh Ambassador has a thirteen year old girl for a wife. Seriously, when Gwen has her token 'life sucks' moment, I was worried Martha would take her aside and tell her that when she's grown up it will all make sense.

If Torchwood tries to live in on in audio form, I'm afraid it'll have to be better than this. Getting a writer who isn't completely disenchanted with the series to write ALL of the script might be a good thing too...

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Why I Should Be In Charge of Doctor Who

...aka another of my side-splitting Mad Larry impressions.

Seriously though, Mad Larry had quite a few suggestions to improve/change Doctor Who (the only really bad idea was that he be allowed in it), so I thought, "Since I also have a blogger ID, why shouldn't I also shout my mouth off in the strange belief I have a better idea of how to run a TV show than a highly-respected BAFTA-nominated comedy genius who at no point made me an alcoholic?"

The main difference, of course, is that I am not going to say the silent majority supports me. Or the vocal majority. Or that Moff is an inbred redneck for not listening to me. At least this way, I'll know which ideas they'll be ripping off (anyone else remember those episodes I wrote where the Doctor met Donna over an alien scam involving innocent punters consuming aliens? Or the one where the Doctor meets up with Rose for one last time and gets over her? The one where Donna has to cope in a world when the Doctor's dead? The one where an alien parasite tries to lure her to its bachelor pad and use her as a host? The one with Sontarans?)

So, what would I do now that the show is a success and we can get away with stuff like Journey's End...


The Title Sequence

Change it. It's been around for four and a bit years, and it's getting old. The trailer for season four was a better-made title sequence. I've seen a million and one youtube vids with DT's face forming out of the ungodly horrors of the time vortex, and not one of them is worse than "DAVID TENNANT!" bouncing through infinity.

The Theme Music
Change it. Not too much, I stress. The version done at the Proms or by the London Philharmonic Orchestra (the one that seems to use gun-SFX from B7 in lieu of musical instruments) would work.

Tell me this isn't an improvement...

The Logo
What do you think? Even the idea of "Doctor Who" all on one level, one size, one font, was done better with the ABC adds. It's a stupid taxi-sign with a rubbish font that isn't used ANYWHERE else in the show and has lead to the crime-against-humanity covers for the 10DAs. The time has come for something more imaginative than Doctor growing out of logo over crude CGI picture. It was rubbish when they tried it with the Fifth Doctor in 1983, and it's even worse now, because at least there was a different picture.


Next Time...
Always after the end credits. In case of cliffhangers? Not there at all.

Nice picture, huh?

Pre-Credit Sequence
Only if given material is worth it. Certainly not mandatory. And you damn well know what I'm talking about.

Format
For a start, we can ditch the following pattern adhered to rigidly by RTD...

1. Contemporary, light hearted alien invasion from POV of new companion
2. Historical with B-Movie Monster
3. Cynical Future of Mankind Space Opera
4. Emo-fueled two-parter on contemporary Earth with a very uncomplicated alien invasion
5. Companion rethinks position, returns home, totally irrelevent storyline
6. Lighthearted historical with B-Movie Monsters
7. Heavy two-parter, very dark, with completely new monster and threat
8. Hastily-written cheapo Doc Lite ep foreshadowing season finale
9. Season Finale involving unheard of mass alien invasion, massive cast changes, companion leaves.

Instead of two parters, it'd be better to tackle similarly-themed episodes, like the way Turn Left is standalone, yet vital for the next story. For genuine two parters, niether Steven Moffat or Helen Raynor are to be allowed more than casual character bits. As we have established the series, we can also NOT freak out when we leave the orbit of the Earth or say visit a non-human place. Historicals do not NEED monsters. The Unicorn and the Wasp would NOT have turned to complete crap sans wasp. Would Love & Monsters been irrideemably awful had Victor Kennedy just been a psychopath and didn't turn into a Northern green monster? Apart from anything else, it'd save a few quid.


Cliffhangers

No more "What? What?! WHAT?!", comprehende?


On no account are the following endings to be on offer:

  • The Doctor and companions are split up but both facing an unstoppable army of zombies with a lethal touch
  • The Daleks appear at the end of the twelfth episode
  • The Doctor looks around with a stunned mullet expression while everyone shouts at him to do something
  • Something totally random bursts into the console room, causing the lone Doctor to freak out.

Originality

For example: these guys aren't turning up.

Limit it to one BF-rehash a year. There's also the fact that there is plenty of stuff from the last four years to worry about than the bleeding Macra. The SJAs have done more with the Slitheen than Doctor Who ever managed, despite the fact they were created to stop Daleks being overused. Stuff worth checking out:
  • The Living Plastic Creations of some scientist nutter
  • The origin of the Extrapolator
  • Van Statten - whatever happened to him?
  • Adam (if only to prove beyond doubt he's not Davros - they still think he'll turn out to be the big bad)
  • What happened to Earth post Parting of the Ways?
  • The Werewolf Aliens
  • The Krillitanes (they don't even have to look like bats)
  • The Skasis Paradigm
  • The Second Bountiful Human Empire - what does it do without fuel or Ood? (The return of Ida script would be worth checking out too)
  • The Abzorbaloffs (there's a whole story about them I deduced from watching the ep)
  • The Cyberman Invasion - a historical event the Doctor can get caught up with... in New Zealand
  • The aftermath of Doomsday (since Torchwood did fuck all with it)
  • The Pilot Fish Santa Zombie Roboforms
  • Slabs
  • Elizabeth R
  • The Lazarus Scorpion Monster (an explanation would be nice...)
  • Riley Vashtee
  • The Family of Blood (if only to find out why the Doctor doesn't defeat EVERY villain this way)
  • Sparrow and Nightingale
  • The Toclafane
  • Mr Copper and his Institute
  • Caecillius and his family
  • Colonel Mace
  • The Hath


RTD's Legacy

You suckas mention the Slitheen just ONE MORE TIME...

  • Not every story NEEDS to be rooted in contemporary Earth. Or even take place there.
  • No more Rose. If Billie has time for another episode betwixt whoring and ante-natal classes, sure - as long as it's that story where she's a hallucination. She should not get a mention every week. The Doctor is over her. Any angst should be about Donna, preferably involving a cure.
  • No more Tyler Clan.
  • No more Torchwood. It can get the odd mention (very odd, since it's considered the stupid cousin of all anti-ET organizations). Since Mickey and Martha have thrown their hats into the ring, no more of them either.
  • If Jack reappears, it should be Old Jack During The Two Missing Years.
  • No more Harriet Jones.
  • No more public not believing in aliens. The 21st century has, methinks, fucking changed already.
  • No more Sarah Jane Smith. She has her own show.
  • Cut back on the Time War. We've got it. It was heavy. Let us move on.
  • No more burning bridges. Let monsters/villains/potential companions get out alive.

New Companion

It doesn't have to be an unfulfilled contemporary girl who sees the Doctor as a father substitute/potential lover/demigod or all three. Captain Jack worked, and he's not from round there here parts. They could be from the future. Or the past. Or not even human (though they'd look human, obviously). There can be a well fit girl in the gang, allowing a more interesting older companion like Wilf, Copper or (on good days) Evelyn. Someone who DOESN'T want to be explore the cosmos would be a tad refreshing. Not a Lucie Miller bitch, but someone happy with their life and doesn't need to be improved by time travel. Kinda like Martha in Doctor's Daughter, an unwilling traveller if not an unlikeable one.

Story Arc

Is this man an end-of-season supervillain in the making? A clue...

Something subtler than recent events. No buzzword per story. More like a vibe, or a theme (like season three's 'what it means to be human' repeated meme). The season finale does not have to be Earth of next Tuesday threatened with utter annihilation, and nor does it have to send shockwaves throughout the series so that the Doctor is getting warned about it last year.

TARDIS set
I really prefer this design. And since there's as much chance of anyone paying attention to this as actually doing a thing about it, here it is. (It's not mine, BTW).
And my puny and pathetic attempts to map out a season
Based entirely on ideas from Who annuals, comic strips and the odd fan audio (coz I have few ideas left for you bastards to steal)

1. New Assistant

"Well, it was either this or somewhere touristy in London..."


The Doctor lands the TARDIS, talking to someone we do not see, talking about an amazingly exotic and impressive strange world. They leave and find... Cardiff, 2000-whatever. We see the new assistant, blown out of their mind. Flashback for the rest of the story, where the Doctor met new assistant. Yes, it might seem kind of predictable but oddly enough I don't know anyone who watched Rose, Smith and Jones or Partners in Crime complaining that the girl was obviously going to be a new companion. It's freaking obvious, and we can cut to the chase. The main story can be set anywhere that isn't contemporary Earth.

2. Wonder in Ordinary Land

...or "Ordinariness in Wonderland"

Continuing on from the first episode, the Doctor and new assistant wander around contemporary Earth with new eyes. No aliens. No monsters. The sort of stuff that could happen in real life, seen from a different POV. A plot, though, not just wandering about Perivale being bored. Stuff happens, it's just stuff that could happen to anyone in the real world. At first...

3. The Diagrams of Power

The Doctor pilots the TARDIS somewhere totally freaky and mind-expanding. Whole new world, new culture, divorced from what we know as possible. Dave Stone insanity. Clockwork solar systems, alien beings, mind-blowing. The Web Planet on acid. A race of being where cloning got out of hand and broke their genome so they keep mutating into different creatures, or maybe humanity living as downloads or something. The Doctor tries to help, but fails. Assistant twigs that they'll actually be happier like this (coz she's looked at their culture, etc.) Don't think outside the box, throw the box away.

4. Napoleonic Historical Drama

"He wanted me to kiss him, would you believe?"

Swashbuckle, Hornblower, Sharpe, can't change history, get over it. The Doctor and Pals are caught up in this famous sea battle, as well as getting in the middle of an attempt to perfect the first submarine for France to use in the battle. Who is the Emperor's Spy? Dylan Moran as Napoleon Bonaparte.


5. Davros Remake

...well, something like this...

Much as I am loathe to take up a suggestion from Thomas "I Hate Everything" Cookson, this idea has legs. Unlike Davros. But the suit and the chair are there, the actor's brilliant and the basic concept has been used THREE TIMES by Big Finish alone. So, Davros survives the exploding crucible and finds himself alone on a (comparitably) primitive world where an unscrupulous body think they can use his skills for the greater good. Davros agrees and promises not to simply abuse their trust and create a new Dalek army. The Doctor arrives and has to try and defeat the new scientific advisor. The story focusses on Davros as a person, and the assistant is the one privy to his life on Skaro. A line like, "he's managed to do this before" will cover any canon problems. At the end, Davros is killed off-screen. The Doctor, when asked if he thinks Davros is dead, laughs his ass off at the idea, and knows the bastard is still out there... somewhere...


6. Who's Who?

Lighthearted comedy story. UNIT need the Doctor. They call for him... but he doesn't turn up. Then, in Cardiff, egads, they find a doctor called John Smith (David Tennant) working in a neighborhood of creepy alien stuff. Is it the Doctor undercover? John Smith seems to have no idea who UNIT are! The idea becomes floated that the Doctor's used his chameleon arch again and the search is on for the watch... except, he's not the Doctor. Just a bloke who looks like David Tennant. Very awkward. The problem UNIT faces gets worse but at the last minute, the TARDIS lands and... a woman comes out and introduces herself as the Doctor!


7. In Whom We Trust

No, she's not played by Keeley Hawes...


A sequel to the previous. The woman (India Fisher) explains she is the Eleventh Doctor after a nasty regeneration sex change, and starts helping UNIT with the alien menace or whatever. We discover the Tenth Doctor, alive and well and tied up with the assistant in the TARDIS. The woman is in fact part of a plan to let the aliens conquer Earth without resistance by having its Defender surrender on their behalf. No bloodshed, just a lot of lies and strip-mining and the Galactic Police can't do a thing! The Doctor and John Smith team up to defeat the imposter, who escapes and is last seen in a newspaper claiming to be Charlotte Church.


8. From Dusk Till Dawn

Nightfall? Never heard of it...

An alien planet where the sun never sets... is now going dark. Huge panic, chaos, etc. Yeah, it's a rip off of Asimov, give me a chance. The Doctor discovers that during the dark, a whole new civilization sets itself up on the planet while the natives go underground. Turns out the planet is time-shared, literally, with one day being stretched for millennia, and the civilizations swapping ownership. Not that THEY know this...


9. UFO

I love this picture and just needed an excuse...


Doctor Who finally tackles the UFO phenomenon. Alien spaceships, visitations, abductions, all dealt with and the main plot is the Doctor trying to help a crashed ship of friendly aliens get off Earth before the now quite-reasonably-xenophobic humans lynch the poor bastards. Also deals with the curious coincidence of yeti/bigfoot-sightings near flying saucers.


10. Live By The Sword, Die By The Photon Laser

Gosh, it's like The Androids of Tara all over again!

Set in medieval times on another planet. The Doctor and assistants get caught between two warring kingdoms, but one side has found an alien weapon. Lots of castles being stormed, hunts through forests At the heart of it, the Doctor meets an unscrupulous time traveller who has got control of a TARDIS. Cue massive culture shock.


11. Mothman

A story set in 1980s America during the freaky time space chaos and huge owl-monster being rampage. This is the Doctor Lite episode, which means this whole thing is a Blair Witch style doco reconstruction with someone else playing the Doctor. The usual misunderstandings occur in these things, with it not clear if the Doctor is the good guy or the bad one. Everything is seen from a distorted POV so to speak.


12. Operation: Werewolf

I'd make an Allo Allo gag... but I never watched that crap.

That unscrupulous time traveller (must find a name for him) has ended up marooned in World War II and forced to work for the Nazis to build a transmat to aide the war effort. Instead, he builds a crude time machine which leads to the assistant being caught. What will happen if the Nazis find out they have access to time travel? Meanwhile, the Doctor travels back to 1944 to find his assistant, but is in the wrong part of occupied France and finds himself busy trying to help the resistance, leaving the assistant to fend for herself.


13. Unknown (no, that's the proper title)

Generic Unscrupulous Time Traveller. Do NOT Feed.

A distant planet there the air is poisonous and prolonged exposure wipes the mind clear. Our unscrupulous time traveler is drawing spacecraft here, letting the crews turn into zombies and then selling them off as slaves. The TARDIS ends up here and the Doctor and the assistant race against time to find a way to beat it all. The Doctor becomes convinced that some Time Lords have survived the Time War and are in hiding, but his enemy is defeated (or escapes) before he can escape. The build up to the truth doesn't happen, and the series ends with the Doctor vowing to find out once for all. The assistant stays with him.


14. Children In Need Special

This time, Eric Saward is not involved.

Aboard the TARDIS, the Doctor faints and wakes up in a swamp where he is chased by someone who repeatedly taunts him... it is the Valeyard! Eventually, the problem is unwittingly solved by the assistant and the Doctor wakes up before the Valeyard can take him over. (It doesn't HAVE to be the evil learned court prosecutor... just an evil Doctor would do.)


15. Christmas Special

Screw the Zygons.

The Doctor and the assistant discover a hidden army of Daleks on Earth. On December 24th, Davros arrives and attempts to revive them. He manages to get a few, not all, of them working and flees in such a way as to cause a snow storm. Usual Dalek runaround and Davros is using the robo-santas in such a way we finally discover what the hell they really are.

...

Right. Now that's out of my system, I get on with my life. What's for lunch?

Friday, September 12, 2008

Dallas of the Daleks

A bit of a celebratory spoof I started before I got all depressed and low...


I, DUSTBIN
by JEREMY "NOTHING AND NO-ONE" LEADBETTER
transcribed by EWEN CAMPION-CLARKE with a rising sense of disbelief
first broadcast - 30th April 2005
running time - 45 minutes 20 seconds

[Upbeat, trumpet-laced version of the Dr Who music. Scenes of highway traffic, planes landing, road signs to Cardiff, naked pole dancers, the Welsh Millennium Centre, sheep in a field, that bloody water fountain outside the Millennium Centre, roulette wheels, glittering lights, hands counting money, Autons lumbering through shopping centres, sky-scrapers, more sheep, dancing girls, rain, the Cardiff docks, yet more sheep. We pan down through the Roald Dahl Plass as the titles begin...]

The Last of the Dustbins

STARRINGIN NON-ALPHABETICAL ORDER

[We see the Doctor, dressed in leather knee breeches, a loden jacket and a Tyrolean hat taking part in a string quartet with a number of high-ranking Nazi officers for an audience made up of Bavarian ladies.]

CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON as Professor X


[We see Rose in a silk kimono dressing gown sitting in a chair with her legs on a stool, so her bare feet loom incredibly large. She is smoking a pipe for some reason and staring blankly ahead.]

BILLIE PIPER as Rosie Taylor

[We see Adam, dressed like a very rich businessman riding piggy-back on a blonde Swedish supermodel, steering her direction by fondling her right tit. He is laughing insanely.]

NIGELLA JAY VERKOFF as Adam Fairfax

[We see ET playing ice hockey while dressed as an American football quarterback. Another player smashes his legs from under him with his hockey stick. ET falls to the floor, screaming and clutching his knee.]

SIR GEORGE THE DRUMMER as the late, great ET Fairfax

[We see Sue-Ellen, dressed as a Halloween witch, surrounded by purple smoke. Her face is blackened and the hem of her black robe is actually on fire. She is too busy cackling like a witch to notice.]

ALEX DRAKE as the Complete Bitch Whore married to ET Fairfax

[We see Goddard sucking her thumb and looking all cute and vulnerable. A poster behind her says "VOTE B'STARD".]

DEREK YEUGH (post-op) as the Frosty Chick With Her Hair In A Bun
[Bywater, wearing a smart black cocktail dress and strumming an acoustic guitar, sits astride a Harley Davidson as it hurles down a highway.]

JOHAN REDSEN as Bywater the Flintlock-Flaunting, Red-Shirt-Wearing, Dead Man Walking

[We see Simmons standing on a table, wearing a bus conductor hat sideways on his head and his tie as a bandana, shouting.]

KEITH ALLAN as The 60-Year-Old Sex Offender
[Gunther fires a shoulder-mounted missile launcher at a VW beetle, which explodes. He then jumps up onto the bonnet and starts to smash apart the remains of the car with a fire axe he carries.]

DEREK YEUGH (pre-op) as The Inveterate Crawler With No Mind Of His Own

[We see the medic wearing an oxygen facemask and floating in an isolation tank as lab technicians in white coats adjust controls.]

MORGAN BOTTOMS as Bad Wolff

[David Tennant, dressed in a toothpaste-green coat, shades and a shoulder-length ginger wig is sharing a bottle of gin with roughly fourteen giggling teenage girls. For some reason he is holding a hub cap in his left hand.]

and DAVID TENNANT
as the Mysterious Gauzy, Pale, Vaguely-Defined Figure Imbued In An Aura Of White Shimmering Translucence Observing the Doctor And Generally Acting Like A Spooky Portent Of Doom

[We see a familiar purple head on a spike outside a castle gate.]


Special Guest Star
BARNEY THE DINOSAUR as the Dustbin

[Nick Briggs, clothed in a blue suit, boots, denim vest and cowboy hat, clutching a fistful of money and smoking a huge marijuana cigar, gazes around uncertainly and dumps a bottle of vodka in his lap. He then falls over at the sound of a gun shot.]

and NICHOLAS BRIGGS
as Himself

[The final shot is a badly cut-out photograph of K9’s head – quite scary in fact, with psychedelic colours radiating from it as the music ends.]



Scene 1 – Dustbin Cell

[Blackness, just for a few seconds, long enough to make everyone get up to check the aerial’s not been disconnected from the TV again. During this, the sound of ragged breathing – something is turned on and the camera is from the point of view of this unseen, aroused creature. It shuffles out of the darkness into a doorway, and then into a room. We see it is in fact, a 60-year-old man called Simmons, apparently benign and grandfatherly, and panting with filthy lust. He looks hungrily at the glass tube in the corner of the cell, encased in a dark cover, just next to a large bank of electronic equipment. He presses a button and with an electronic hum, the cover slides away...]

SIMMONS: Good morning, rise and shine you metal bastard!

[We do not see what is inside, but we see from its point of view. It’s not like RTD is going to ruin the surprise just for his publicity juggernaut, is he? Its eyesight works differently from ours, it zooms in and then pulls out from the things it is scanning - fast, methodical, looking for a way out. It zooms in on Simmons apprehensively.]

SIMMONS: I trust you slept well. If you do, indeed, sleep. Either way, you won’t be doing it again any time soon. I want to play a new game called "sleep deprivation through high voltage current". Won’t THAT be fun?

[Simmons’ breathing quickens a little as the hum of equipment begins to rise.]

SIMMONS: Now, you know there’s going to be a certain amount of pain. But I can stop it any time I want. The trouble is, I won’t want to, that’s where the theory falls down. Of course, I might change my mind if you speak. Don’t care what you say, whatever you like, as long as you call me "Sugar Daddy" and beg me more. You come up with that and I’ll down tools, and we can be friends, yes? [sniggers] Well, not friends. But I might use some lubricant this time.

[The eyesight looks around more frantically, trying to find a way out. Simmons grins and presses a control.]

SIMMONS: Really, if you think about it, you’re only hurting yourself. And I want to be the one hurting you!

[Simmons stabs down on the control, there is a flash of electricity, and the eyesight distorts horribly; we hear a squawk, we see red and Simmons starts moaning.]

SIMMONS: Oh God, this is SO working for me!


Scene 2 – Museum

[A room with a few glass cases and most of the lights off, giving the impression that’s a long, darkened museum rather a disused lounge room with some rather shitty props kept in less-than-pristine conditions. Suddenly something looms, a bulky shape with a pale yellow light flashing above it wobbles uncertainly, accompanied by a raucous groaning sound which gradually died away like distant thunder. The pulsing light shone brilliantly and the ghostly object grows more distinct, hovering, swaying precariously, then dropping heavily into the carpet, coming to rest at a steep angle. The light is extinguished and excited human voices come from inside the shabby, blue-painted structure and several shadows move across the frosted glass windows ranged along the top of each of its four sides, beneath the painted sign saying POLICE Public Call.... look, it’s just the bloody TARDIS! It lands! Do we REALLY need this level of detail? What the hell were the first five episodes for, huh?]

ROSE: [vo] And this is really 2014?

DOCTOR: [vo] For god’s sake, Rose, why do you keep asking that?!

[The chipped and weathered panelling of the ‘box’ creaks loudly as it sways alarmingly to and fro, and it all but topples over when a door suddenly flies open in the uppermost side and... forget it. The Doctor stalks out of the TARDIS and Rose follows.]

DOCTOR: Rose, we’ve been to the end of time and back again and no matter where we go, you always ask the same bloody question. "Is this 2014?" Why?!

ROSE: Well, 2014 is in the future.

DOCTOR: Oh, and the year 5 Billion ISN’T in the future?

ROSE: Yeah, but this is the proper future, isn’t it?

DOCTOR: "Proper" future? Have you been reading about Faction Paradox again?!

ROSE: I mean, it’s my future.

DOCTOR: Your future.

ROSE: Like, you know, I could live and see it.

DOCTOR: And this is somehow better than seeing futures you couldn’t live and see?

ROSE: I can’t see this future.

DOCTOR: Can’t you? Damn

ROSE: It’s dark.

DOCTOR: And it’s not your future. The year is 2005 and this is a torch.

[He grins at her stupidity and hands her a torch.]

Monday, September 8, 2008

100 BF Spoofs Hanging On The Wall...

Determined to escape the child support nightmare that is his life, the Doctor waits until Charley falls asleep while eating a banana. Fighting away countless erotic fantasies, the Doctor locks himself in the cupboard, pulls out a canister of Dustbin bubble bath solution and injects it into his arm. It's not clear if this is to transport him to another dimension or simply to commit suicide. Either way, the bubble bath solution makes the Time Lord grow so large he leaves the sub-atomic universe altogether and ends up in a new plane of existence.

When the Doctor finishes singing Jefferson Aeroplane songs and praising them for the unerring accuracy when it comes to parallel-dimensional-physics, he realizes he is in an optometrist's waiting room made of some strange sugar-like cinnamon. Since he has committed so many naughty acts his eyesight should be so bad it makes OTHER PEOPLE go blind, the Doctor walks through the door to meet the cinnamerians – three yellow extras in girly saffron togas (Ferris Wheel, Herr Lenses and Holly Card).

These are the inhabitants of this universe, which is smaller than a BBC Studio, made out of cinnamon and looks like the eye department of a surgery. The cinnamerians are generally known for being totally irritating and psychotic, due to their voices that sound like burning corpses of cats screwing dead fish. The Doctor quickly gathers from the responses to his cinnamon-related jokes that they have a sense of humor that makes the most humorless person you ever met look like they have a sense of humor in comparison. The locals, however, get their own back when they learn that the Doctor spontaneously vomits if he hears the word 'blue'.

The Doctor retorts back with even more sugar-based wisecracks and makes the stupid mistake of getting his eyes checked out. The Time Lord is amazed that his eyesight is brilliant, and even more he has just defiled the Grand Potentate of the Cinnamon Universe. Behind him, Holly Card, Ferris Wheel and Herr Lenses begin to chant "Encase the Arseholes" and decide chase him to a windmill and attempt to kill him with burning torches. The Doctor runs for it, but is out of his depth – he is now in a dimension without corridors and is soon trapped in the only other room in existence. At the last moment, the Doctor realizes what is going on and pretends to be a lamppost. The cinnamerians find him far more agreeable and let him live if he sings their national anthem with them – 678, 765 stanzas consisting of the words "Encase the Arseholes" in a variety of silly voices. The Doctor has barely convinced the entire cinnamerian population that all he really wants to be is a squirrel when Charley turns up, demanding he sate her demands for pickles, gherkins and oral sex. The Doctor protests he is utterly exhausted and, apart from anything else, is a lamppost and lamppost simply do not DO that sort of thing.

Charley refuses to take "No", "Piss off!" or, "For God’s sake, you stalker, leave me alone!" for an answer and begins to slowly but surely rip off the Doctor’s trousers. Terrified of just what an arsehole Charley is, the cinnamerians run for their lives, and the Doctor tries to choke himself on the Grand Potentate – but at the last minute is woken up to discover the whole thing...

...was reality.

And that's one of the first spoofs I did in 2000 to the amusement of my high school chums. Now, I've done over 100 of the bloody things, and out of 111 mainstream BF releases, I have done 105 of them. That front page is finally complete. But do I feel any better? Does it bring back my cat and my dog? Does life suddenly seem worthwhile? A clue: get real.

So, instead some random First Doctor passages from my ever-expanding Doctor Who ebook collection...


Although the Doctor and his companions were not yet aware of it, they were heading into even greater danger. The planet on which they had landed was called Skaro and it had been devastated by years of warfare between two races, the Kaleds and the Thals. Over the long years of warfare, the Kaleds had changed, mutated even, building themselves war machines in which to live and fight. They had changed their name as well as their appearance. The Doctor was about to meet the creatures who were destined to become his greatest enemies.
Out there on Skaro, the Daleks were waiting for him.

- Terrance Dicks proves not really that interested in novelizing the very first episode and tries desperately to drum up some vague interest on the last page.


The second thing I saw was a glass Dalek!
He was resting on a kind of dais and his casing was totally made of glass. Inside, I could see the same sort of repulsive creature that the Doctor and I had taken out of the machine and wrapped in the cloak. The Dalek looked totally evil, sitting on a tiny seat with two squat legs not quite reaching the floor. The head was large, and I shuddered at the inhuman bumps where the ears and nose would normally be and the ghastly slit for a mouth. One shrivelled little arm moved about restlessly and the dark-green skin glistened with the same oily substance that had revolted me before.
'Hurry, hurry,' I heard it say and it spoke with a different kind of voice altogether, not like the dull, lifeless monotone of its fellows but more of a dreadful squeaking sound that only just made the words intelligible.

- Ian Chesterton critiques Nicholas Briggs mercilessly


Barbara was alert in an instant, her nerves tingling. By her side Susan had sat bolt upright in bed, her hands still hidden underneath the covers. Barbara smiled with more than a little relief, chiding herself for her nervousness. ‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.
Susan looked at her strangely. Perhaps she was still slightly concussed, thought Barbara. ‘I’m fine,’ the schoolgirl said slowly. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘Susan, you do remember who I am, don’t you?’ Barbara asked. Susan’s voice sounded oddly clipped; for an awful moment it reminded Barbara of the staccato emotionless tones of the Dalek creatures they had encountered on the planet Skaro. She was suddenly very worried.
‘Of course I remember who you are,’ the girl continued in the same flat monotone. ‘You’re Barbara.’ Barbara’s brow furrowed with concern as she registered Susan’s unfamiliar use of her first name. Up till now Susan had always referred to her, in her presence at least, as Miss Wright, retaining some of the teacher-pupil respect which had been encouraged at Coal Hill. Her sudden use of the name Barbara unnerved the schoolteacher.
‘Why?’ asked the girl. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s no need to cosset me like I was Tiny Tim or something.’
‘Who?’ Barbara asked sharply.
‘Tiny Tim,’ repeated Susan. ‘He was the young cripple in Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol.’
‘I didn’t think you knew any Dickens,’ Barbara said slowly. She suddenly remembered something Mr Foster the
English teacher had once said to her that girl Foreman, brilliant in some respects—she can recite quite huge hunks of Shakespeare as if she really knew him. But she’s never even read a word of Dickens!
Susan flushed and Barbara imagined that she had somehow upset the girl. ‘I—I must have heard Grandfather talking about him sometime... He’s very well read, you know...’
Barbara looked at Susan suspiciously. The abrupt changes of mood, the violence, this piece of knowledge... was
this really Susan she was talking to, or... She shuddered at the thought of the alternative. Like a person possessed, Ian had said. Barbara tried to humour her. ‘Of course there’s nothing wrong with you, Susan,’ she said. ‘You just need a rest, that’s all.’
Susan seemed to acquiesce and sank back down onto her pillows. Suddenly she sat back up again, and clutched
Barbara’s arm. ‘Where’s Grandfather?’ Her voice had suddenly changed: no longer was it emotionless and cold; there was no mistaking the concern in it.
Barbara loosed herself from Susan’s grip, and replied. ‘He’s checking the controls with Ian—Mr Chesterton.’
Susan’s face seemed to relax and then she said, ‘Why did you ask me if I knew who you were?’
‘It’s just that before you seemed to...’ Barbara felt embarrassed, unsure of how to answer the girl’s question.
How do you tell someone that you suspect they’re losing their grip on reality?
Susan continued to stare at her in an odd way. Underneath the covers Barbara was aware of Susan’s hands
fumbling with something. Barbara held out her hand. ‘Susan, why don’t you give me the scissors?’ she said with gentle firmness.
Susan drew her hand out from under the pillow and pointed the instrument threateningly at Barbara.

- Susan Foreman does her Linda Blair impressions (the crucifix scenes are torn out of my copy for some reason)


'Oh, dear, oh, dearie me,' the Doctor gasped with tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. Marco looked at him.
'Laugh if you will, Doctor, but my mind is made up,' he said. 'Your caravan goes with me to Shang-Tu. Now, give me the key and on my oath I will not enter it until we reach the court.'
Helpless with laughter and to the astonishment of Susan, Barbara and Ian, the Doctor held it out. Marco took the key, strode to the entrance, called off the Mongol guards and went out into the courtyard. The Doctor collapsed in a chair, almost sobbing with laughter. 'Oh, dear, oh, dearie me,' he kept repeating. Susan ran over and shook him.
'Grandfather, grandfather,' she cried, 'why are you laughing? It's serious.' Barbara and Ian came over to him.
'Marco means it,' Barbara said. The Doctor took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.
'Yes, I know he does,' he admitted.
'What are you going to do about it?' Ian asked. The Doctor looked at him for a moment and burst out laughing again.
'I haven't the foggiest notion,' he gasped finally.

- The Doctor's companions finally begin to suspect what a stoner he truly is...


At 701 zeniths (Inter Galactic Time) precisely, three BXV sub-oceanic assault craft penetrated Marinian territorial waters at a depth of fifty sonars. Fitted with antimetradar devices, they sped undetected to within one hundred yards of the shore before surfacing and slithering onto the wide beach. For several minutes the BXV’s lay there, glistening in the sun like giant slugs. Then, one of the outer casings was pushed open and a shiny black hand emerged, its webbed fingers clawing the air for support.
The Voord invasion of Marinus had begun.

- Terry Nation discovers lightning really DOESN'T strike twice...


'How's John?' she asked, and then checked herself as the Administrator turned around to face her. 'Oh, I am sorry,' she apologised, 'I thought you were one of the scientists.'
The Administrator's tone was severe. 'Did you not see my collar of office?' he asked, pointing to the black band around his neck.
'I said I'm sorry,' she replied, slightly irritated by the Administrator's attitude. 'When your backs are turned it's very difficult to see who you are.' She chuckled. 'I don't know what we'd do if you all changed your badges and sashes: we wouldn't be able to tell you apart.'
'I had never thought of that before. . .' the Administrator said slowly, struck by the novelty of the idea.

- Private Dexter IS the Sensorite Ambassador


'My sergeant was quite right,' he declared smugly. 'It did pay us to look in the house, after all.'
Ian struggled to free himself from the two militiamen who were holding his arms behind his back. 'But we ... we have no connection with ... ' he began, searching his memory for the words in French.
The lieutenant strode forward and thrust his face into Ian's. 'Silence!' he hissed. Then he marched slowly round and round the table as if uncertain what he should do next. 'If any of them speak again without permission, shoot them,' he ordered.

- Ian Marter spits on the idea of TARDIS telepathic translation circuits


The Black Dalek scanned them. ‘Speak!’
Barbara held out Dortmun’s notes. ‘This is the bomb—’
‘We are not interested in the bomb. Give information on planned revolt.’
Barbara racked her brains for a sufficiently colourful story. ‘Well, it’s planned to start quite suddenly, like the Indian Mutiny.’
‘We have already conquered India.’
Barbara rattled on, ignoring the interruption. ‘I’m talking about Red Indians of course, in disguise, like the Boston Tea Party. General Lee and the Fifth Cavalry will attack from the North while Hannibal’s forces move in from the Southern Alps...’
While the bemused Daleks were listening to this historical mish-mash, Jenny made a sudden dash for the communications console. Immediately a nearby Roboman grabbed her—but the diversion gave Barbara her chance. She ran to the console. ‘Attention all Robomen. You will attack the Daleks. Attack the Daleks—’
Like a huge metal dodgem car, the Black Dalek shoved Barbara aside. ‘Cancel last order. Resume normal operations.’

- not even Tezza can believe THAT was the original plot resolution.


‘There is a story about Clive of India,’ the old man remarked casually, ‘which tells how he attempted to commit suicide as a young man by putting a pistol to his head. Three times he pulled the trigger and each time the gun failed to explode. Yet whenever he turned it away, the pistol fired perfectly. As you know, Robert Clive did eventually take his own life in 1774. The point is that Time, that great regulator, refused to let the man die before things were done that had to be done.’
The Doctor held up a hand as all three of his friends started to speak.
‘I know exactly what you’re all about to say. Why do men like Lincoln and Kennedy, those two outstanding American Presidents, have their lives cut off short when everything lay before them, and they had shown themselves capable of doing good for their fellow men? How can I, or any person, answer that? It is too easy to say that the sharp, shocking manner of their deaths underlined heavily the contributions they made. Life, death, the pattern of Time, are eternal mysteries to us. Here you find one man squandering his talents on wholesale slaughter, evil and terrible acts of indignity. There, another makes every effort for peace, goodwill and happiness. Inventors of medicines and advantages for others are laughed into insane asylums. Discoverers of murder weapons die in old age as millionaires. True love is set aside, hatred seems to flower.’
‘But that’s appalling!’ said Ian vehemently. ‘That’s,the gloomiest view I’ve ever heard in my life.’
‘My friend,’ said the Doctor softly, ‘it is only one small part of what I am saying. Time is constant. Look at history. You’ll find the brave have their share of successes. You’ll see that honesty, unselfishness and good works overflow in every generation. All I am saying is that what is going to happen on Earth must happen. If Rasputin is to die, no will to survive by that extraordinary man, no black arts, no personal power, can save him. Remember that they drugged Rasputin, shot him and then drowned him. No, don’t try to understand why a fine man is cut off in his prime and an evil one prospers. Try to understand what benefit there is in observing history as it actually happens.’

- um... 42?


‘Well?’ Lobos barked.
‘Robot number 9284...’
‘His name is Matt,’ Lobos said.
The soldier frowned. ‘Matt?’
‘That’s right. His name is Matt. So forget the number, just tell me what he’s come up with.’
The soldier gulped. ‘Nothing, sir.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing. He’s still working on it.’
Lobos cast a quick glance at Ogrek who immediately wiped the smile from his face and found something very interesting to look at on the ceiling. But what was happening at ground level was even more interesting for, far from being annoyed, Lobos was highly delighted and Ogrek was quite startled when, hearing what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, he looked down again to find Lobos grinning broadly. He raised a questioning eyebrow and Lobos burst into laughter.
‘He’s been beaten!’ he yelled. ‘Matt has finally met his match. He doesn’t know the answers! Now I can’t wait to meet these aliens.’

- it's pathetic, isn't it?


Assuming he had a best friend, this hypothetical friend would have been hard pressed to say anything even vaguely complimentary about Morton C. Dill, native of the state of Alabama. At school, he had been unaffectionately nicknamed ‘Dill the Pill’, a reference to his being rather hard to take. Since his school days—or, as some critics called them, ‘school daze’—Dill had not improved. On the contrary, his tendency to spout whatever came off the top of his mind (there being no deeper level to his thinking) was worse than ever. He rarely worried about having any content in his speech. He constantly intruded on others, generally in loud and obnoxious ways. Convinced that he was the life and soul of every party, he would make his way into any gathering and try to take over as quickly as possible.
The general response to his actions was usually a distinct drop in the air temperature, a general move in any direction away from him, and from time to time a proffered fist or a call for the nearest police officer. None of this did much to dampen Dill’s enthusiasm; he simply moved on and tried to ingratiate himself into some other gathering, firmly convinced that the original group merely lacked taste. The original group was extremely relieved to merely lack Dill.
It came as a matter of much surprise to anyone unfortunate enough to be acquainted with him that in the summer of 1967, Dill was promptly locked up in a home for the bewildered, where he resides to this day— attempting to drive professionals in the sphere of mental health crazy with his constant, long, rambling discourses. Many of these deal with the event that led to his being incarcerated in the ‘joint’ (as he insisted on calling the Newman Rehabilitation Clinic)...

- John Peel asks the crucial question "Whatever happened to Morton Dill"?


The Doctor stood outside the spaceship and looked thoughtfully into the sky. He had the curious feeling that he had missed something – something that was staring him right in the face. What could it be? He let his mind thread very gently through the experiences they had had since materialising on this planet; he was not concentrating too hard, and in fact noticed that one of the suns had now gone down and the next was edging toward the horizon. Their speed of travel he did not know, but clearly night could not be far away. How long that would last he had no idea, but guessed not too long. By the time the last sun had gone down the first would be moving round to rise again and that would bring the planet one step nearer to extinction. What was it that chap Bertrand Russell had said? Something about the fact that the Earth’s sun having risen for countless millions of years being no guarantee that it would rise tomorrow. That man knew of what he spoke. In life it was all too easy to take matters for granted and assume that things would trundle along as they always had. But where was the guarantee? Fate had a nasty habit of lulling beings into a false sense of security and then yanking the mat from under them. It had happened before and would undoubtedly go on doing so. It was about to happen here, with quite a sizeable bang. He found himself wishing that he could retain his own mind and this time occupy a body more like Steven’s, compact, muscular, capable of far more than this decrepit creation he was using at the moment. He was tired of it. Sooner or later renewal would come and he prayed that when the time came he would be better served. Something comfortable and capable was what he longed for, something able to do more of what he asked of it. He mused and pondered on the whimsical ways of Fate.
- the author William Emms denies writing this while sound of mind



Festooned here and there with silks and tapestries showing Hercules and people about their vainglorious business – and pictures of horses everywhere, with details of their track records and pedigrees worked in gold thread on a giant ivory stud-book. There was even a picture of Helen’s father – a swan, if you remember – which she must have brought with her from Sparta. Probably snatched it from her dressing table at the last minute, with Paris teetering on the ladder with the luggage, and saying, ‘For god’s sake, woman, we can’t take everything!’
- one of numerous Blackadder moments in The MythMakers


‘It’s too close to the limit now. I shall stay on Kembel until the Daleks begin their masterplan. You and the others will be able to join me there in about three weeks.’
Thinking about his plans always pleased Mavic Chen. The Daleks thought that they were using him, but they didn’t dream of how grandly Chen had planned! With the Dalek taskforce heading towards Earth in three weeks, Kembel would be left vulnerable to a small strike fleet...
‘The day of Armageddon is drawing close,’ Chen breathed, savouring his plans. ‘The whole history of mankind will be snuffed out like a candle in the wind. When I return to the Earth it will be with a power that no human has ever known! Power absolute!’ The inner light of madness was burning strongly now, and Karlton knew better than to interrupt. ‘Then Earth will rise again, but without the shackles of infantile philosophies like democracy and equality! It will be a new and virgin land that can be shaped... moulded... fashioned into the image that I design. I will be its life-blood – I its creator – I its very god!’

Abruptly, Chen seemed to realize where he was, and he slowly calmed down, his vision burning dimmer. After a moment, he turned to his assistant. ‘You are a fortunate man, Karlton,’ he observed in quieter tones. ‘You will have a high place in this destiny.’
‘The highest,’ Karlton agreed, obsequiously. ‘Next to you.’
‘Yes,’ Chen said, thoughtfully. Was this fool getting ideas above his station? Could Chen continue to trust him for much longer?

- Mavic Chen: not a bit like the Servalan-Carnell wannabe Alan Stevens and Fiona pretend he is...


'Please sit down,' said the Toymaker. As the Doctor sat opposite him, the Toymaker continued. 'The last time you were here, I'd hoped you'd stay for a game or two, but you hardly gave me the time of day before you took off again.'
The Doctor stared at him. 'And very wise I was too.' The Doctor slapped his lapels in irritation. 'And you've been conniving ever since to bring me and my companions back here. You and your games are notorious throughout the universe. You draw people to this place like a spider attracts flies. Then you enmesh them in this devilish web of yours and they never get away again.'
'My games, notorious!' replied the Toymaker. "Really Doctor, you are quite wrong.' The Toymaker motioned to his elaborate office: 'This is my universe. All I expect people to do is to play games to amuse themselves. It also amuses me to see them play. There is no web to enmesh them. If they continue to play throughout eternity, perhaps they were - how shall I say? - fated to do so.'
'Fate?' The Doctor paused for a moment then leant forward and picked up a small, perfectly made model of an astronaut off the Toymaker's desk and stared down at it suspiciously. 'I suspect this fellow was one of your victims of fate. Was he amused by your games?'
The Toymaker's eyes flicked over towards the small astronaut doll. He shrugged. 'Perhaps he was, Doctor but then he lost the game, you see, and became one of my toys.' The Toymaker reached over, took the doll from the Doctor's hand and put it back on the desk. 'But, like all my dolls, he will have a chance to play another game and regain his human form. Surely this is what life is all about. We all play games, even you, Doctor.'
'Your universe, Toymaker, has blinded you to reality. Everything is not predetermined according to your desires. Humans do have free will.' The Doctor leant back, crossed his arms and shook his head obstinately. 'I refuse to play your games,' he said.

- Amazing how The Celestial Toymaker turns out to be its own sequel, huh?



Suddenly, a long wailing cry came from the control room. The voice was not the Doctor's. They rushed out. They hurried over to a long couch-like arrangement with a folding metal cover over it. The use of it had never been fully explained to them. The Doctor had simply told them that it compressed sleep. The cry seemed to be coming from this apparatus.
'How does it work?' said Polly, struggling with the catch.
Ben pulled back her hand. 'Let me, Duchess.' He turned and pulled down a lever standing beside the apparatus. The hood slid silently back to reveal the long stretcher-like couch. To their relief, they saw the Doctor's familiar cloak and body. The corner of the long cloak was drawn over his face.
'He's been sleeping,' said Polly, relieved. 'Using the sleeping compressor.'
But Ben was staring at something. 'Hold on, Poll. Look!' He pointed at the Doctor's hands, which were folded over his chest. The Doctor had long, thin, sensitive, rather boney hands. Of late, they had become white and transparent, the blue veins showing through the skin: the hands of a very old man. But Ben was pointing in amazement at two completely different ones. They were shorter, thicker set, reddish—the hands of a much younger man.
Polly drew back, hand to mouth. 'Oh Ben! Do you think...'
'We'll see,' said Ben grimly. He reached forward gingerly and pulled back the edge of the cloak. The face under the cloak was not the Doctor's. It was the face of a much younger man—a man in his early forties. The Doctor's long, silver locks had been replaced by short dark hair, and the newcomer had a swarthy, almost gypsy, appearance. As Ben and Polly drew back aghast, the man slowly opened his eyes and turned to looked at them.
'Hello,' he said. His eyes were blue-green—like the sea. Although friendly, they had an elusive, slightly mocking quality. 'You must be Ben and Polly?' he continued. Ben nodded.
'And who are you?' asked Polly boldly.
The man stretched himself and swung his legs over the edge of the cradle. He stood up and looked down at his hands and legs with a certain pleasurable satisfaction. 'Hum!' he said. 'Not bad!' He flexed his arms. 'Not bad at all.' He turned to Polly. 'You haven't got a mirror by any chance?'
Polly looked at him in amazement. The one thing the old Doctor never had any time for was mirrors. The only mirror on the TARDIS was, in fact, a small, battered metal one in her back pocket. She drew it out and handed it over.
The man took the mirror and held it up. He examined his face. 'Yes,' he said. 'Pretty fair, all told!' He nodded and smiled pleasantly. 'I think I'm going to rather like it.'

'You didn't answer her question,' said Ben, plucking up courage and moving forward, his fists bunched. 'Who the heck are you? And what are you doing here?'
The stranger looked at him in slight surprise. 'You ask me that, Ben? Don't you recognise me?' The Doctor's two companions shook their heads. 'I thought it was quite obvious,' Again, he smiled his gently mocking smile and winked at them with his blue-green eyes. 'Allow me to introduce myself then. I am the new Doctor!'

- Gerry Davis does a bit of "If *I* Had Written..." on the very first regeneration sequence. Mein gott.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Ashes to Ashes - Who Killed Kennedy?

Just as Reset finally proved that Torchwood was about a bunch of totally unprofessional egomaniacs (and not badly-written worthy defenders of the Earth), The Missing Link shows that Alex Drake is not supposed to be some kind of audience identification figure. She's a bloody nutter with no concept of subtlety and the self-control of Ben Chatham in an absinthe distillery. The moment that proved it to me was when Ms. Drake Snr was giving a sickeningly cynical and unconvincing speech along the lines of "I hope my child will grow up with a desire to change the world and do better." Alex hasn't even been arsed to get her hair done! And when you think she's so desperate to fight the illusion, she doesn't say, buy different clothes and make herself look the way she did in the future?

I cannot think of any character I could not replace Alex with and have them LESS convincing and realistic behavior. As I mention, she's once again stalking her own family and doing pretty much everything except wearing a T-shirt saying "I'M YOUR DAUGHTER FROM THE FUTURE!", nipping out in the middle of an interview to raid her past self's bedroom and constantly saying "I remember that!" whenever Little Alex is mentioned in any way whatsoever. Just watch a scene with them and ask yourself, "If it was Richie and Eddie interviewing them would they do a better job at hiding that?"

The answer, of course, being yes. For some reason, despite her fundamental belief this is all a dream, Alex is unwilling to simply tell people this. She never outright says "this is all a dream" but acts like she has and everyone knows this. Yet when her mother - hypocritical slag rapidly threatening to topple Sylvia Noble as Bitch Who Must MUST Die 2008 - upsets Alex to the point she's foaming at the mouth with righteous anger, does our psychologist let rip? Why is she keeping it secret when she keeps telling everyone she wants to change history? And how can she not have suspected that maybe she's becoming part of it?

The Missing Link, curiously enough, feels rather bored of Alex. I'd say she is in this less than the other episodes. Lougi, for example, has dialogue and I am amazed to discover he is Happy Italian Man from Turn Left. He is similiarly cheerful and friendly this week, unlike the broken-souled miserable bastard of the previous episodes. Shazza, Raymondo and Chris get a bit more interaction this week, and Ray continues his stratospheric rise. When Gene leaves instructions that if he isn't back in eight hours, Ray is in charge, I actually felt reassured. Yes, Raymond has achieved borderline enlightenment. He's not as charismatic and obvious-main-character as Gene, but he gets the job done - instantly working out what's going on from the same clues, cracking the case and being as blunt and disgusting as ever.

It says a lot that when Ray puts up a nudie picture in the office and Chris tells him to take it down, I sided more with Ray. Yes, true, as Chris points out it's offensive and degrading but at least Ray is honest enough to admit he enjoys looking at it. Once agin, Kamelion Chris has sucked up another personality, this time a 1980s feminist which leads him spouting all sorts of mispronounced bull crap - "Shazza, I don't want to buy you a chocolate bar, because it simply reinforces gender stereotypes. Get it yourself". While the scenes where he completely fails to get what the feminist is trying to tell him may or may not be amusing, it's hard to credit him as the bloke from Life on Mars, given his bloody stupidity.

Barry the Evil Clown of Doom barely appears this week - he has a five second cameo in an LSD flashback locking someone in a toy chest, but he's not half as scary as Alex's mum ripping the chest open and shouting "BOO!" at the occupant with the deranged grin that so often appears on her daughter's face. But out-scaring both of them is Michael Sheard Lookalike, a moustached, spectacled little man who represents the Dark Side of the Establishment. No screaming "WE ARE COMING FOR YOU ALEX!!" and clown make up for him. He's cut from the same cloth as Benjamin from Jekyll.

Some plot. A man called Kennedy is found dead and in his possessions is the telephone number for Alex's mum. So Alex steals the number, wines and dines Evans, then comes round to her place and practically gets on her hands and knees and BEGS them to tell her it's all a coincidence and not a conspiracy. Typically, all her brilliant subterfuge is pointless as Gene, Chris and Ray have discovered evidence Alex NEGLECTED to steal and worked it out on their own. And it quickly transpires that Kennedy was spying on Alex's family, and has full-page glossy photos of Evans and Alex's Mum doing the horizontal mambo. Alex loses it, much to the embrrassment of her colleagues. But should they be taking Alex's paranoid rantings that the government are spying on them seriously? Is there a conspiracy? Why the hell does Alex care? You're in a coma, luv, what the hell are M15 going to do to you? Wake you up?

Meanwhile, a bunch of radical feminist socialists with berets and scarves are screaming that Reagan has a neutron bomb designed by Terry Nation himself and Thatcher is letting them test it in British soil. And Kennedy's body has gone missing - last seen in a lead-lined coffin...

I was generally impressed by this episode, which uses Alex more as a plot device rather than a central character. Everything she does advances the plot - like, for example, her ever-increasing acid-trips lead her to lock herself and Gene in an airtight vault in the confused belief she's actually in a toy chest hiding from Barry The Evil Clown of Death. Gene isn't too fussed by the possibilities of suffocation... until Alex starts doing that scary impression and whispering that she... cannot... die!

(My dad found this sequence totally unrealistic, as any vault would have at the very least an air valve to allow fresh oxygen inside. It would also have a phone for such poor schmucks caught inside.)

The suggestion that this huge Edge-of-Darkness-style nuclear conspiracy will culminate in Alex's parents being blown to smithereens gives a bit of clarity to the series, even as Shazza shows herself to be more intelligent than anyone else in the show, Viv contributes to the plot and Raymondo more appealing than the central character. Alex is a much more bearable character this week, even though she - for once - forgoes dressing up as a hooker and instead acts as the most suspicious and nervous undercover operative I can remember. The Second Doctor and Jamie are straight out of Spooks in comparison.

Next Week: "Is this you in your doo-dally captain-of-the-upper-fifthy way of telling us that Neary deserves to go down?"
MORE flashbacks, this time with interesting new visions of Alex on the mortuary slab! They're undercover (cause that NEVER goes wrong) dealing with a bunch of hot gay gangsters and as Chris's IQ continues to plummet to Baldrick levels, it is up to Raymondo to save the day. Alex is busy having dinner with her mother and being cryptic. Bless.