Every now and then, Doctor Who can make you proud to be a fan.
Frontios is really quite fine, a rare episode without a cringeworthy moment. The plot unfolds nicely between the regulars, and is set against a convincing and well-developed backdrop. Good script, good enough performances, and a pleasantly nasty and realistic scenario. The Tractators are simple but excellent monsters, and I wonder if the writer had a bad case of woodworm while writing. I've read complaints that they don't move very fast, but with gravity powers, why should they? They can wait for things to come to them!
I love the Doctor's worries that he can't interfere, and it's a shame they couldn't have explored this a bit more deeply. He's also noticably tougher on his companions, in a trend already observed on this blog. His mistep gamble in telling Plantagenet to gamble is excellent, as is his successful bluff of the Gravis. It's Turlough's finest hour, and there's really not much more I can say about it than solid, well rounded, fine from start to finish.
Oh, and there's an unfair death near the end. In fact, things are so marvellous that I noticed how lazy the dirction was. It always is. But it was glaringly obvious in Frontios because everything else was good. It showed up paticularly in the tenser, action scenes.
It also confirmed my conviction that the "overlit" Warriors of the Deep set is actually a nice contrast - Frontios is another dark, grungy industrial future, just like Androzani, Resurrection, Terminus and Earthshock.
Showing posts with label fifth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fifth. Show all posts
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Sirens of Time
I'm pretty fond of Sirens of Time - I probably listen to it most often. It shows off four different locations and stories, and isn't so taxing I need to pay a lot of attention.
Episode 2 is probably the best of the stand-alones, and works well on its own. It's very atmospheric, and has a great sense of place. Maybe because it's rooted in history we can instantly understand it. I like the minor characters, particularly the captain. I always like it when Timelords turn out to be underhanded rotters, and it does not surprise me that Vansell would think of picking the Doc off. I have a soft spot for Vansell, who takes Gallifreyan incompetance to a high art.
Episode 3 is as good, but feels more like the first part of a story which will get better. Suitably, perhaps, as it is the most crucial one to Episode 4's resolution. The futurisitc world presented is believeable, and in keeping with the places 80s Who went. The Sixth Doctor would pick a personal fight with an android, a wonderfully done character. A lot gets packed in here, but it is clear and exciting.
Episode 1 just confuses me. Even after several listens, I don't quite get why things keep crashing, why Sancroft is vital to the plot, and whose side Ruthley is on. She's simply very irritating. The worst thing is, the single nature of the adventures allows me to skip it...
Episode 4 is great fun, however. Even though I'm slightly lost as how the Valeshan knights fit into the picture, I like the idea of the Sirens going through time like deadly Chronovores and causing trouble. The crux points are ingenious - particularly preventing the sinking of the Lithuania having no impact on the course of the war, but allowing a murderer to live who would go on to kill penicillin. It was an unexpected tweak. To save Gallifrey, history must be put back on course, but ironically this course always requires deaths, merely in a different combination. I am reminded of The English Patient:
Like Cold Fusion, the comparison of traits is ultimately the point, and it's effective. I don't understand how anyone can have a favourite Doctor, because they are so different and there is something to be learnt from all of them, to be admired in all of them. The final scene is chilling and well played. I like the image of the three of them sitting around, with creepy old Lyena crying in the background.
There's just one thing that irritates me about this tale. There are three Doctors in this story, and two of them escape completely unscathed. The other gets (deep breath) beaten up twice, shot once, breaks his ankle, and then brain drained. Oh, fer goodness sakes! Can we please stop it with the vulnerable thing now? Lyena gets in on the act too, fascinated by the way that all three are different yet similar. It's a valid observation, but it is flawed when she breaks them down as
"compassionate, thinker and impulsive". Oh, I know what they're trying to say, but how would Lyena have got that impression from her time with them? After all, it's Doctor Seven who caused the trouble by rescuing Sancroft and his Siren, Doctor Six who has been doing the thinking for over an hour of audio time, and Doctor Five who spends his whole episode soley motivated by the desire to escape. Alternately, you could pin Seven for his impulsive, unthinking rescues, Six for his compassion towards the - what's the time beastie called again? - and Five for the downright devious way he gets off that submarine. I do hate reducing Docs to one-word descriptors anyway, but this takes the biscuit by being wholly false in context!
It's only a minor grumble, however. All in all, three Doctors can't be bad, and as a series of non-challenging standalones makes for good listening if you can't promise your whole attention.
A side effect is that I automatically treat Ellies, Ellens, Helens, and suchlikes with huge suspicion whenever they show up now. I'm tempted to believe that Ellie in He Jests at Scars is also a manifestation of Lyena. The Valeyard was certainly making enough mess to warrant a Siren on his shoulder. I also tend to go "TIME DISTORTION!" excitedly whenever the aforementioned phenomena shows up.
Episode 2 is probably the best of the stand-alones, and works well on its own. It's very atmospheric, and has a great sense of place. Maybe because it's rooted in history we can instantly understand it. I like the minor characters, particularly the captain. I always like it when Timelords turn out to be underhanded rotters, and it does not surprise me that Vansell would think of picking the Doc off. I have a soft spot for Vansell, who takes Gallifreyan incompetance to a high art.
Episode 3 is as good, but feels more like the first part of a story which will get better. Suitably, perhaps, as it is the most crucial one to Episode 4's resolution. The futurisitc world presented is believeable, and in keeping with the places 80s Who went. The Sixth Doctor would pick a personal fight with an android, a wonderfully done character. A lot gets packed in here, but it is clear and exciting.
Episode 1 just confuses me. Even after several listens, I don't quite get why things keep crashing, why Sancroft is vital to the plot, and whose side Ruthley is on. She's simply very irritating. The worst thing is, the single nature of the adventures allows me to skip it...
Episode 4 is great fun, however. Even though I'm slightly lost as how the Valeshan knights fit into the picture, I like the idea of the Sirens going through time like deadly Chronovores and causing trouble. The crux points are ingenious - particularly preventing the sinking of the Lithuania having no impact on the course of the war, but allowing a murderer to live who would go on to kill penicillin. It was an unexpected tweak. To save Gallifrey, history must be put back on course, but ironically this course always requires deaths, merely in a different combination. I am reminded of The English Patient:
But frankly, who cares about the plot in a multi Doctor episode? Because then the quarrelling starts. Frankly, we do just watch them for the quarrelling, right? They do get on fairly well, and work well as a team. I like the polite way they keep interrupting one another, it's a cute variation. In the end, however, it's the Sixth Doctor who comes out looking good. I'm tempted to think that left alone, Five and Seven might have killed one another (this is post Cold Fusion after all...), and can't help but imagining them glaring at one another throughout. It's Six who keeps things on track, comes up with the ideas, provides the initiative, sorts things out and overall proves why he's the Doc I'd like to be stuck with in a pinch. It makes sense in character terms too - both Five and Seven spent their careers deliberately blending into the background and taking advantage of a subtle approach, while Six tended to deal with things by being centre of attention.
"If the British hadn't unearthed your nosey photographer in Cairo thousands of people could have died"
"Thousands of people did die. Just different people."
Like Cold Fusion, the comparison of traits is ultimately the point, and it's effective. I don't understand how anyone can have a favourite Doctor, because they are so different and there is something to be learnt from all of them, to be admired in all of them. The final scene is chilling and well played. I like the image of the three of them sitting around, with creepy old Lyena crying in the background.
There's just one thing that irritates me about this tale. There are three Doctors in this story, and two of them escape completely unscathed. The other gets (deep breath) beaten up twice, shot once, breaks his ankle, and then brain drained. Oh, fer goodness sakes! Can we please stop it with the vulnerable thing now? Lyena gets in on the act too, fascinated by the way that all three are different yet similar. It's a valid observation, but it is flawed when she breaks them down as
"compassionate, thinker and impulsive". Oh, I know what they're trying to say, but how would Lyena have got that impression from her time with them? After all, it's Doctor Seven who caused the trouble by rescuing Sancroft and his Siren, Doctor Six who has been doing the thinking for over an hour of audio time, and Doctor Five who spends his whole episode soley motivated by the desire to escape. Alternately, you could pin Seven for his impulsive, unthinking rescues, Six for his compassion towards the - what's the time beastie called again? - and Five for the downright devious way he gets off that submarine. I do hate reducing Docs to one-word descriptors anyway, but this takes the biscuit by being wholly false in context!
It's only a minor grumble, however. All in all, three Doctors can't be bad, and as a series of non-challenging standalones makes for good listening if you can't promise your whole attention.
A side effect is that I automatically treat Ellies, Ellens, Helens, and suchlikes with huge suspicion whenever they show up now. I'm tempted to believe that Ellie in He Jests at Scars is also a manifestation of Lyena. The Valeyard was certainly making enough mess to warrant a Siren on his shoulder. I also tend to go "TIME DISTORTION!" excitedly whenever the aforementioned phenomena shows up.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Decent men in an indicent time
I just rediscovered this essay, which came out as an angry word-vomit after some Fifth Doctor reviews rubbed me the wrong way in the small hours of the morning (24-10-08, 2:40AM). I remain amazed how articulate it is, and has only benefited from polish I've just given it, in the midst of writing academic coursework. I don't intend this essay to come out as a criticism of any other Doctor - all of whom I would praise as highly, for very different reasons. I merely believe this three year period was played to perfection and am constantly frustrated by the amount of criticism and misunderstanding it gets. Also bear in mind that this was begun in anger, and completed in controlled anger. In normal circumstances, my stance is a little bit more moderate. Not by much.
And if I ever meet the man who claimed that my opinions on Peter Davison didn't count 'cus I was a girl again, he's going to get a slap.
Back when my classic buying was erratic and sparse, when the Doctor would reference events we did not understand or companions we'd never met, we dreamed of watching an entire classic series in order - as originally broadcast, savouring the cliffhangers and soaking up the atmosphere. For continuity more than anything else - Sontaran Experiment's length means that you can waste most of an episode wondering where the hell the TARDIS was, and what was this Nerva thing anyway if watched out of the blue.
I'm past that now, because my buying is more focused towards villains or companions I recognise, and my grasp of the wider mythology is better. It still crosses my mind every now and then - and there are only a few sensible candidates, considering the ones I've almost completed. There's season 12, with Harry, and it'd be nice to sort out that continuity once and for all. Or season 19, again because of the little tags which allow story to story to blend into one unit. And finally, season 21 - both the very best and very worst of candidates. The best, because thematically as well as for continuity, it deserves to be watched in one go. And the worst, because at the end of the 12 weeks, I might kill myself.
This is at the heart of why I love S21 - what I consider to be a series of unbroken excellence only rivalled by the 7 episode run between Human Nature and Time Crash. What a soul destroying experience it all is.
Warriors of the Deep really gives me a few minutes of genuine misery at the end of the episode. Resurrection, about half an hour. By the time you get to Caves, we are talking days, because if you're keeping score at home, this is the moment the "nicest" Doctor gets dropped into some of the least pleasant episodes of all time.
It's the contrast that kills. A certain correspondant on Pagefillers uses the "dump any doctor in another doctor's episode" approach to argue that PD is a bad doctor. And maybe he has a point, depending on your conception of who the Doctor should be. But conversely, when it comes to S21, no other Doctor would work, nor make it so involving. The clue is in the cricket, because this is the moment he realises the rest of the universe will not play ball.
Because with any other Doctor, S21 would last about 45 minutes. You could certainly chop three episodes out of Warriors of the Deep (mind you, might come as a relief to some), because no other Doctor would resist using the hexachromide that long. And maybe, numerically, they'd be right to do so. But then the main charm of the episode would be gone - an ending which is both a success and a failure on so many different levels. Now maybe you can use this decision as fodder for why he's an inferior edition. The point is, you're talking about it.
And that is at the core of why I love the Fifth Doctor and his era, for challenging our easy assumptions about the role. The Doctor is an atrocious hypocrite - we can see that easily - so actually putting the Doctor through the thinking process for his actions was a novelty, putting that very controvosy into the show. He steps back and tries to work out the "best" way to act. We can debate whether there's a difference between 4 gassing Solon and 6 gassing Shockeye, but now the Doctor's thinking about it too.
The Fifth Doctor spends three seasons utterly defiant in the face of what he fights against. The two words that come to mind are very heroic, and very brave. You might say, "well, they're all heroic" - to which my response is, "they're all compassionate idealists too..." I'm talking about a particular type of moral courage. It's one thing for the Doctor to risk his life for his beliefs. It's another thing to risk other people's lives.
What is wrong with a Doctor who tries to have a nice time? Let it not be forgotten that the first two doctors were merely on a joyride of the universe, the Third was dragged kicking and screaming into adventure, and the Fourth just couldn't help getting into trouble.
*excluding Katarina, Kamelion and Sarah Kingdom for not being companions; excluding Peri and Jack for coming back to life; exclusing Rose and Donna for not actually being dead despite any number of limp prophecies.
And he feels things between episodes - your capability is my callousness. He tries to reason with everyone in Warriors of the Deep, it doesn't work, so in Resurrection of the Daleks, he breaks out the gas at the first oppertunity; but he can't bring himself to kill Davros, and evidently spends some time mulling over that before he next bumps into the Master for Planet of Fire because of the choices he eventually makes in that episode. Cause, effect, and the suggestion of a process between our weekly 25 minute dose.
It's often brushed off as "naive", but I feel that is over-simplistic. He knows the universe is filled with evil, he can just never shake that sincere sense of horror every time he finds it. Steve Moffat rightly identifies that if he didn't really, honestly feel it every single time, he'd have stayed at home like the rest of us do when there's a war on, instead of chasing off to right wrongs. At this point, he's been facing evil all over the galaxy for half a century, and again and again, no matter how many times he wins, nothing changes and there is always more bloodshed. This strikes me as far more natural a reation: to become reflective about the merits and methods of his lifestyle, walking around with the weight of the universe of his shoulders, compared to other incarnations who will happily step over bodies.
And ultimately he knows it. Why is Caves of Androzani a great episode? Hundreds of reasons, but for our purposes, today I'm voting that it's a perfect departure because it evolves naturally out of everything that's gone before. Now of course, it's an adorably Fiveish thing to do to throw away his life for someone he's only just met, but I find it hard to believe that any other Doctor in the circumstances wouldn't have done the same. Yet it's the buildup that really sells it.
At its most simplistic, this is a Doctor who absolutely cannot lose another friend under his charge, with Earthshock peeping around every corner. Yet, thematically, I think the true payoff is about interferance. We've established that he very rarely got the balance right between violence and mercy. If Planet of Fire is the moment he compromises, then Caves is a demonstration that he simply no longer cares. He doesn't help the good guys, or hinder the bad guys - as if anyone could work out which were which - and focuses on one good action, simple and without stain. He's decided who he is - or at any rate, what he isn't. The working title for Caves of Androzani was Chain Reaction. I've always liked that.
Each Doctor regards himself as superior to his predecessors, but there is a sense of undeniable relief in "change, my dear, and not a moment too soon." In this way, regeneration approaches the human conception of past lives: earlier incarnations who have each had a lesson to learn, understanding it before moving on through death to a new life, one which has the advantage of that knowledge. The contradictions and complications played out across PD's three years have already evolved into a new direction in Season 21, but regeneration crystalises them. I'd almost argue that Planet of Fire was the Fifth Doctor's final episode - the out-of-character arrogance and determination of Caves only lacks Colin Baker's multi-colour dreamcoat. Death merely makes the change a cleaner break. The Sixth Doctor learns from his predecessor's experimentation, action over hesistation, certainty instead of introspection, and the strength to brush over mistakes and plough on for his clear conception of justice. Which also gets criticised by all and sundry, but I'll leave my defence of that for another day.
And if I ever meet the man who claimed that my opinions on Peter Davison didn't count 'cus I was a girl again, he's going to get a slap.
Back when my classic buying was erratic and sparse, when the Doctor would reference events we did not understand or companions we'd never met, we dreamed of watching an entire classic series in order - as originally broadcast, savouring the cliffhangers and soaking up the atmosphere. For continuity more than anything else - Sontaran Experiment's length means that you can waste most of an episode wondering where the hell the TARDIS was, and what was this Nerva thing anyway if watched out of the blue.
I'm past that now, because my buying is more focused towards villains or companions I recognise, and my grasp of the wider mythology is better. It still crosses my mind every now and then - and there are only a few sensible candidates, considering the ones I've almost completed. There's season 12, with Harry, and it'd be nice to sort out that continuity once and for all. Or season 19, again because of the little tags which allow story to story to blend into one unit. And finally, season 21 - both the very best and very worst of candidates. The best, because thematically as well as for continuity, it deserves to be watched in one go. And the worst, because at the end of the 12 weeks, I might kill myself.
This is at the heart of why I love S21 - what I consider to be a series of unbroken excellence only rivalled by the 7 episode run between Human Nature and Time Crash. What a soul destroying experience it all is.
Warriors of the Deep really gives me a few minutes of genuine misery at the end of the episode. Resurrection, about half an hour. By the time you get to Caves, we are talking days, because if you're keeping score at home, this is the moment the "nicest" Doctor gets dropped into some of the least pleasant episodes of all time.
It's the contrast that kills. A certain correspondant on Pagefillers uses the "dump any doctor in another doctor's episode" approach to argue that PD is a bad doctor. And maybe he has a point, depending on your conception of who the Doctor should be. But conversely, when it comes to S21, no other Doctor would work, nor make it so involving. The clue is in the cricket, because this is the moment he realises the rest of the universe will not play ball.
Because with any other Doctor, S21 would last about 45 minutes. You could certainly chop three episodes out of Warriors of the Deep (mind you, might come as a relief to some), because no other Doctor would resist using the hexachromide that long. And maybe, numerically, they'd be right to do so. But then the main charm of the episode would be gone - an ending which is both a success and a failure on so many different levels. Now maybe you can use this decision as fodder for why he's an inferior edition. The point is, you're talking about it.
And that is at the core of why I love the Fifth Doctor and his era, for challenging our easy assumptions about the role. The Doctor is an atrocious hypocrite - we can see that easily - so actually putting the Doctor through the thinking process for his actions was a novelty, putting that very controvosy into the show. He steps back and tries to work out the "best" way to act. We can debate whether there's a difference between 4 gassing Solon and 6 gassing Shockeye, but now the Doctor's thinking about it too.
The Fifth Doctor spends three seasons utterly defiant in the face of what he fights against. The two words that come to mind are very heroic, and very brave. You might say, "well, they're all heroic" - to which my response is, "they're all compassionate idealists too..." I'm talking about a particular type of moral courage. It's one thing for the Doctor to risk his life for his beliefs. It's another thing to risk other people's lives.
Now what is this? Cowardice, as Davros suggests - certainly there is an element of not wanting to take that step on a personal level. Indecision - but who's interested in watching a guy who has all the answers?
Yet there is a bravery in not compromising your beliefs. Steve Moffat, wonderfully, described him as a better man than the universe he was trying to save. Even as the situations get darker, he remains reliable. The type of person you'd want to rescue you, if you didn't also know that as an extra in a Peter Davison story, your life span is equivalent to that of a Spinal Tap drummer. He's letting these things happen, but surely there's a nobilty in trying to do it properly? The New Adventures might trot out "he who fights monsters might become a monster himself, and when you look into the abyss the abyss looks also into you." on a regular basis, but it's 5 we really feel it for - because by the end, he's not the person he wanted to be. The moment when, finally, he gets it "right" in Planet of Fire by letting the Master fry is not glorious, nor is it a relief - it's horrible. Even his treatment of Turlough and Kamelion in that episode would not, with any other Doctor, seem so shockingly wrong.
That alone suggests the whole "nice-compassionate-innocent" thing, all those poor criticisms dragged out every time, have some serious merit to them - and I intend to attack them one at a time.
Let's start with "he's too young!", or the argument that he's regressed. The Doctor does this every now and then - 8 and 10 are exactly the same. He gets into a dark cycle, and then one day he regenerates and it's a breath of fresh air. Canonically, if you had spent a hundred years feeling like the Fourth Doctor - all crazy grins and confidence - then suddenly, you weren't any more, you'd want to reexamine and rethink. It's like having the carpet dragged from underneath you, and having to work out from scratch who you are and what you stand for.
I actually love the age vs. youth dynamic. The Doctor always arrogantly assumes authority wherever he goes - the problem is, the Fifth can't get away with it any more. This is most notable in Four to Doomsday. In the first episode, he is happy ordering his companions around - but this soon stops working, and by the final episode he is politely asking Adric whether or not he wants to help out. "Seemed young for his age," he muses of Bigon, obviously unsure what to make of his own appearance.
The same dynamic emerged in the early 70s. Jon Pertwee is obviously far older when he takes the role, but his Doctor is far younger. Kung fu! Girls in miniskirts! Cars! Gadgets! Even the dashing dressing. He hasn't noticed that his appearance, in human terms, means he shouldn't behave like that. In contrast, Castrovalva sees the Doctor whip out reading glasses, and spend the whole time in a wheelchair. Despite the fact he is conventionally attractive, all his companion relationships are completely paternal, particularly with orphans Adric, Nyssa and Turlough, and a father figure for Peri. This is another strong contrast to the Third Doctor: Jo Grant and Sarah Jane are two of the most easy to ship companions of all time. As an old, wise being, stranded with an adorable appearance and forced to fight for those things he always took for granted, he is never unconvincing.
I hope these aren''t the same people who bash Ainley's Master for being too similar to Delgado's, I really hope they're not. Regeneration allows a totally new direction, and preferences between Doctors are character, not performance based. They're not playing it the same way, and if they were trying to, then it would be far clearer who succeeded and who failed. This way, it's far more down to the hero you want to see.
And this is mine, more or less. It frustrates me to read critiques of 5's character, because they identify as bad the same things which I find charming.
What is wrong with a Doctor who tries to have a nice time? Let it not be forgotten that the first two doctors were merely on a joyride of the universe, the Third was dragged kicking and screaming into adventure, and the Fourth just couldn't help getting into trouble.
A bit rubbish? This is at the core of why he's great. His Doctor is completely rubbish a lot of the time, but who wants a hero who has it easy? You know he can screw up, and more importantly, so does he. Instant tension, instant drama. They even junk the sonic screwdriver early on - the security blanket is gone. Two episodes later, they kill a companion* for the first and only time.
Adric's death does not come of any act of the Doctor's - he behaves just as he always has. It's the world which has suddenly got mean, and it won't be easier from here onwards.*excluding Katarina, Kamelion and Sarah Kingdom for not being companions; excluding Peri and Jack for coming back to life; exclusing Rose and Donna for not actually being dead despite any number of limp prophecies.
And he feels things between episodes - your capability is my callousness. He tries to reason with everyone in Warriors of the Deep, it doesn't work, so in Resurrection of the Daleks, he breaks out the gas at the first oppertunity; but he can't bring himself to kill Davros, and evidently spends some time mulling over that before he next bumps into the Master for Planet of Fire because of the choices he eventually makes in that episode. Cause, effect, and the suggestion of a process between our weekly 25 minute dose.
It's often brushed off as "naive", but I feel that is over-simplistic. He knows the universe is filled with evil, he can just never shake that sincere sense of horror every time he finds it. Steve Moffat rightly identifies that if he didn't really, honestly feel it every single time, he'd have stayed at home like the rest of us do when there's a war on, instead of chasing off to right wrongs. At this point, he's been facing evil all over the galaxy for half a century, and again and again, no matter how many times he wins, nothing changes and there is always more bloodshed. This strikes me as far more natural a reation: to become reflective about the merits and methods of his lifestyle, walking around with the weight of the universe of his shoulders, compared to other incarnations who will happily step over bodies.
Wet? No - merely sane. If the Doc is cheerily smiling away and dancing around the villain, then I can't get all that bothered about any supposed dangers. The Third Doctor had things to say about facing your fears, and one of the true treats of the Fifth Doctor era is that when evil rears its ugly head, you can tell he's scared - but that's not going to stop him, not for a moment.
In short, it's about the quality of heroism. If you are an invulnerable superman, diving into a burning building means far less than if you are aware of very real limitations, that you are flawed and fallible.And ultimately he knows it. Why is Caves of Androzani a great episode? Hundreds of reasons, but for our purposes, today I'm voting that it's a perfect departure because it evolves naturally out of everything that's gone before. Now of course, it's an adorably Fiveish thing to do to throw away his life for someone he's only just met, but I find it hard to believe that any other Doctor in the circumstances wouldn't have done the same. Yet it's the buildup that really sells it.
At its most simplistic, this is a Doctor who absolutely cannot lose another friend under his charge, with Earthshock peeping around every corner. Yet, thematically, I think the true payoff is about interferance. We've established that he very rarely got the balance right between violence and mercy. If Planet of Fire is the moment he compromises, then Caves is a demonstration that he simply no longer cares. He doesn't help the good guys, or hinder the bad guys - as if anyone could work out which were which - and focuses on one good action, simple and without stain. He's decided who he is - or at any rate, what he isn't. The working title for Caves of Androzani was Chain Reaction. I've always liked that.
Each Doctor regards himself as superior to his predecessors, but there is a sense of undeniable relief in "change, my dear, and not a moment too soon." In this way, regeneration approaches the human conception of past lives: earlier incarnations who have each had a lesson to learn, understanding it before moving on through death to a new life, one which has the advantage of that knowledge. The contradictions and complications played out across PD's three years have already evolved into a new direction in Season 21, but regeneration crystalises them. I'd almost argue that Planet of Fire was the Fifth Doctor's final episode - the out-of-character arrogance and determination of Caves only lacks Colin Baker's multi-colour dreamcoat. Death merely makes the change a cleaner break. The Sixth Doctor learns from his predecessor's experimentation, action over hesistation, certainty instead of introspection, and the strength to brush over mistakes and plough on for his clear conception of justice. Which also gets criticised by all and sundry, but I'll leave my defence of that for another day.
The usual criticisms are not necessarily incorrect, merely approached from the wrong direction. The Fifth Doctor stood for something better, something he very rarely achieved. Yet he remains admirable for trying, regardless of success or failure. He's a hero precicely because it is never easy.
And finally, I'm going to get personal, Mr Tim Miner of Pagefillers, since your grossly unfair character critique has kept me up to the small hours of the morning:
"He doesn't rush headlong into danger" (you say of the man whose first response in The Awakening is to plunge into a collapsing cloister to save a stranger? Who thinks it's a good idea to dive out of a spaceship without a spacesuit in Four to Doomsday? Who attempts to crash land a space-freighter while dying, simply to save a friend? My goodness, I could probably find you an example of this in most episodes)
"He doesn't rig up a lot of gadgets" (True: the only things which come close are Nyssa's sonic booster, and breaking the control box in Terminus. I would argue, however, that this is not a vital Doctor trait. It's certainly not the second thing I think when someone says "Doctor".)
"He doesn't seem to be driven by insane curiosity." ("Hmmm, big empty spaceship with no air. This way Tegan!", "No, Tegan, we can't leave, I want to find more about King John!", "Oooh Turlough, why don't we find out what that blip is on the scanner?", "Come on Peri, race you to those blowholes?")
"He doesn't seem to want to fight evil at any cost." (Bullshit...)
"He doesn't drop names" (no, not so often, but again - is this a vital Doctor trait? It's certainly common, but if you want to define the core of the character this is merely cosmetic. He doesn't have curly hair either.)
"He doesn't seem to be driven by a desire to see everything the universe has to offer" (wrong! He is driven by a desire to see the nice bits of the universe. He takes Tegan to see her grandfather, attempts to take her to her future and goes to a costume party merely to play cricket.)
"He lets himself get locked up and doesn't try to pick the lock" (...but from strength, not weakness. He always learns far more from smiling politely and going along with things - it's his own brand of Troughton's disarming daftness. Think getting executed in Arc of Infinity to meet Omega, not rocking the boat in Black Orchid to get a better grip of the situation and tricking Stein into revealing the Dalek plan and that Davros is aboard, all while moments from a sticky death in Resurrection of the Daleks. He can escape in his own sweet time. Don't forget that playing along, either for time or for an advantage, is also as key a Doctor trait. Off the top of my head, the Second Doctor "well now I know you're crazy" in Tomb of the Cybermen, the Seventh Doctor more than once in Curse of Fenric, the Third Doctor's act with the Master in Claws of Axos are three that come to mind, but there are many many more.)
"He doesn't tell madmen and dictators where they can get off" (again, I think this is a grossly unfair statement, and there's a Tereleptil, Cyberleader, Davros, Sharaz Jek and an Eternal naming himself as Striker queuing to see you. Also, see the above point: staying silent is often as smart as shouting)
"His companions aren't just along for the ride, they often dictate his activities." (This is undeniably true. What isn't necessarily concrete is where this is a good or bad thing. Mr Miner obviously sees it as bad, and I certainly agree it's different. But I like it. How many fufilling relationships have you had when one of the group makes the decisions and has all the fun, with the others are just hanging about? It creates a far more complex dynamic in the TARDIS. It's also overlooked, but he also bullies and orders his companions about far more than any other Doctor. They feel they have the right to question his decisions, as a result of his apparent youth. Take Earthshock - the Doctor is in control, but he cares enough for Adric to let him make him that angry. He doesn't simply say no: it's about persuading him that he is wrong. And please, no one deny that we had five fantastic companion departures. But I concede that this, at least, is a matter of personal opinion)
And here ends the damn lesson. Time for me to go to bed.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Visitation
Viewing recommendation: fun fact. I've never managed to watch any Peter Davison episode on a first viewing anything but all at once. Planet of Fire is the single exception, and I got through that in 48 hours.
The Visitation has been sitting at the bottom of my Fifth Doctor episode list for some time, ever since I saw it - and that was maybe the second fifth Doctor story I ever saw. Thought admittedly excellent in several departments, I always remembered it as an hour and a half of running around in forests. Great sets, but very weak in the plot department, relying on characters missing each other or being shunted off to the TARDIS/miller's barn/locked up somewhere - and relying on the Doctor to secretly know, somehow, that Adric and Tegan are safe and cannot be rescued from the Tereleptils at present because they are doing important plot things - and it is therefore alright to abandon them for some goose chase involving a robot, or a horse, or something and not think about them for three episodes.
The Doctor still does some weird abandony things, which I'm still not quite comfortable with. But I'm convinced the structure problems aren't as bad as I remembered them. The location, and the sense of place is just so strong - the Fifth Doctor always works with greenery. The peasants are used well in the same way the levellers are in Mark of the Rani. It's all so atmospheric, visually, that you don't even notice the frankly awful android design. Mace is ace. He makes the world seem real, while adding some comic relief and pinching many of the best lines.
The Tereleptils are just incredible - the costumes are flawless, and motivation wonderfully imagined. They remind me a little of the Slitheen. Tinclavic! On Raga! Having seen it in The Awakening, boy it must be an irritating substance to mine. They are also quite, quite evil. I'd remembered the dialogue was good, but the Doctor confronting the villain is always the standout scene. But it's really, really, really good. Particularly "what's your excuse?".
I love season 19's complicated TARDIS, and without forgetting that the four of them are all bad tempered and argumentative, this episode highlights their little relationships better than anywhere else. The Doctor just beams like the sun has come out when Nyssa talks to him. It's awesomely cute, and you get such a sense of the surrogate father-daughter thing going on. Nyssa has settled in - like Adric, at this point she is a companion, a permenant fixture in the TARDIS. Adric is starting to resent the crowd more - "What would the Doctor do" - "Get angry, probably" - or griping at some length, quite correctly, that he is useless and can't help - "I try so hard!". "Whining" is a criticism aplied to Adric a lot, but I find it very very endearing. He doesn't like these two girls showing up and stealing his job as "companion". Even here, you get to see him launch himself at the android and attempt to fight it - you can't fault the boy's crazy heroics. "Why isn't he here, why is he never around when you want him!" is another standout Adric moment.
Not to mention things getting a lot cuter in the Tegan camp - "Tegan, I know you never listen to a word I say..." is the aw moment of the episode. Season 19 Tegan tends to irritate me somewhat, despite the fact she later matures into a favourite companion - but not here. And for goodness sakes : "Now, don't jump to conclusions, Adric. Sometimes we... humanoids try to disguise our... our true feelings." Because obviously, he's talking purely about Adric and Tegan.
As for the Doc, he's still a bit scattershot - impatient and grumpy, occasionally outright viciousness. In later episodes the temper would be moulded into the Fifth Doctor's trademark killer sarcasm. Having now seen most of 19, it's tempting to think to think that Earthshock is the defining moment he becomes sombre and (ugh) "bland". In Four to Doomsday, I put it down to maybe not being over the regeneration yet, but there are elements of it still here in Visitation. I also love, love, love the way he never fails to look utterly horrified by supervillains explaining their plans - it's always like the first time he's ever realised things are that dark, that he feels genuinely let down by the universe on every occurance. The ultimate death of the Tereleptils is messy, cruel and it's interesting to watch the Doctor's very brief look back at them. He doesn't go back to rescue them, but he doesn't enjoy it - as if this is a turning point. If I was going to be uber about this, I'd say it was deliberate mirroring with Planet of Fire, but it's probably accidental.
While we're talking about Earthshock, I suddenly realised why Tegan gets abandoned at the end of Time Flight - of course, the Doctor is trying to do what 10 is doing now. He's trying to go solo, because his life is too dangerous with them. It's just Nyssa doesn't actually have anywhere to go.
I also enjoy his pained reaction to Adric's attempted TARDIS landing. In fact, including the dialogue in the console room ("I said empathise, not be silly!"), this is just one of this episode's many standout scenes. Some other terrific dialogue gems:
"You are a very stupid woman!"
"That isn't a very original observation"
"Not again!"
And many, many more I've forgotten. I also like the "final visitation" quote, in line with the Fifth Doctor thang of taking the spooky title from a randomly plucked piece of dialogue.
In any case, I thought I was safe to just watch one episode before bed and ended up having to watch the lot, and I may just have to go and rewatch it this morning. I feel I have a much stronger grasp on the character development (such as it is) across this season now, and love that I am able to be so insanely positive about any episode :)
The Visitation has been sitting at the bottom of my Fifth Doctor episode list for some time, ever since I saw it - and that was maybe the second fifth Doctor story I ever saw. Thought admittedly excellent in several departments, I always remembered it as an hour and a half of running around in forests. Great sets, but very weak in the plot department, relying on characters missing each other or being shunted off to the TARDIS/miller's barn/locked up somewhere - and relying on the Doctor to secretly know, somehow, that Adric and Tegan are safe and cannot be rescued from the Tereleptils at present because they are doing important plot things - and it is therefore alright to abandon them for some goose chase involving a robot, or a horse, or something and not think about them for three episodes.
The Doctor still does some weird abandony things, which I'm still not quite comfortable with. But I'm convinced the structure problems aren't as bad as I remembered them. The location, and the sense of place is just so strong - the Fifth Doctor always works with greenery. The peasants are used well in the same way the levellers are in Mark of the Rani. It's all so atmospheric, visually, that you don't even notice the frankly awful android design. Mace is ace. He makes the world seem real, while adding some comic relief and pinching many of the best lines.
The Tereleptils are just incredible - the costumes are flawless, and motivation wonderfully imagined. They remind me a little of the Slitheen. Tinclavic! On Raga! Having seen it in The Awakening, boy it must be an irritating substance to mine. They are also quite, quite evil. I'd remembered the dialogue was good, but the Doctor confronting the villain is always the standout scene. But it's really, really, really good. Particularly "what's your excuse?".
I love season 19's complicated TARDIS, and without forgetting that the four of them are all bad tempered and argumentative, this episode highlights their little relationships better than anywhere else. The Doctor just beams like the sun has come out when Nyssa talks to him. It's awesomely cute, and you get such a sense of the surrogate father-daughter thing going on. Nyssa has settled in - like Adric, at this point she is a companion, a permenant fixture in the TARDIS. Adric is starting to resent the crowd more - "What would the Doctor do" - "Get angry, probably" - or griping at some length, quite correctly, that he is useless and can't help - "I try so hard!". "Whining" is a criticism aplied to Adric a lot, but I find it very very endearing. He doesn't like these two girls showing up and stealing his job as "companion". Even here, you get to see him launch himself at the android and attempt to fight it - you can't fault the boy's crazy heroics. "Why isn't he here, why is he never around when you want him!" is another standout Adric moment.
Not to mention things getting a lot cuter in the Tegan camp - "Tegan, I know you never listen to a word I say..." is the aw moment of the episode. Season 19 Tegan tends to irritate me somewhat, despite the fact she later matures into a favourite companion - but not here. And for goodness sakes : "Now, don't jump to conclusions, Adric. Sometimes we... humanoids try to disguise our... our true feelings." Because obviously, he's talking purely about Adric and Tegan.
As for the Doc, he's still a bit scattershot - impatient and grumpy, occasionally outright viciousness. In later episodes the temper would be moulded into the Fifth Doctor's trademark killer sarcasm. Having now seen most of 19, it's tempting to think to think that Earthshock is the defining moment he becomes sombre and (ugh) "bland". In Four to Doomsday, I put it down to maybe not being over the regeneration yet, but there are elements of it still here in Visitation. I also love, love, love the way he never fails to look utterly horrified by supervillains explaining their plans - it's always like the first time he's ever realised things are that dark, that he feels genuinely let down by the universe on every occurance. The ultimate death of the Tereleptils is messy, cruel and it's interesting to watch the Doctor's very brief look back at them. He doesn't go back to rescue them, but he doesn't enjoy it - as if this is a turning point. If I was going to be uber about this, I'd say it was deliberate mirroring with Planet of Fire, but it's probably accidental.
While we're talking about Earthshock, I suddenly realised why Tegan gets abandoned at the end of Time Flight - of course, the Doctor is trying to do what 10 is doing now. He's trying to go solo, because his life is too dangerous with them. It's just Nyssa doesn't actually have anywhere to go.
I also enjoy his pained reaction to Adric's attempted TARDIS landing. In fact, including the dialogue in the console room ("I said empathise, not be silly!"), this is just one of this episode's many standout scenes. Some other terrific dialogue gems:
"You are a very stupid woman!"
"That isn't a very original observation"
"Not again!"
And many, many more I've forgotten. I also like the "final visitation" quote, in line with the Fifth Doctor thang of taking the spooky title from a randomly plucked piece of dialogue.
In any case, I thought I was safe to just watch one episode before bed and ended up having to watch the lot, and I may just have to go and rewatch it this morning. I feel I have a much stronger grasp on the character development (such as it is) across this season now, and love that I am able to be so insanely positive about any episode :)
Monday, January 05, 2009
The Awakening
Viewing recommendation: I watched them in one go, but one at a time would work too.
It's Doctor Who does the Wicker Man, in a very terrific episode, very shoddily executed.
Actually, I'll tell you what this episode is. It's End of Days with pitchforks. It's at it best when dealing with two timezones in the same place - such as the Doctor being psychically bitch-slapped by the noise of the battle in the church, Sir George planning to fully reenact the battle - and instead of stranding Toshiko in the past, they drag Will Chambers to the future. It's all very creepy.
Then it turns out it's all at the behest of a huge bit of CGI (or the 1980s equivalent, which is a mildly unconvincing polystyrene mask), and the plot falls apart in twenty minutes. Except I'm not just comparing it to my favourite Torchwood episode, I'm criticising it in comparison.
Which should demonstrate not only how much I enjoyed it, but also how frustrating it was.
This is the Fifth Doctor at his worst and best - dashing off into a dangerous building to rescue a complete stranger, battering people with his uniquely vicious style of sarcasm, and having a total disregard for danger. I particularly liked "the toast of little Hodcombe", and walking straight towards the Malus. And his rapport with Will is just adorable.
On the other hand, he does spend the whole time chasing after companions and being completely hopeless. It's in episodes like The Awakening, in which the Doc demonstrates an inability to cope with a few reenactors, you wonder how he ever had a chance with the Cybermen. And indeed, he didn't did he?
None of the ideas ever quite get the attention they deserve; and it's the end sequence when all SEVEN of the heroes are standing around as the Doctor saves the day, and all SEVEN of them are hanging around and trying not to get dead from the projection (it's OK, though, the writer sees fit to bring in an EVEN MORE USELESS EXTRA to get killed, as if there weren't already four in the room to chose from...), you wonder where it all went wrong. Couldn't one of them have an interesting talent to diffuse the situation? Particularly, Tegan's grandfather, who's supposedly been researching the Malus and must have had some plan when he decided to "stop the Malus" by returning to the church. Tegan and Turlough fufil the "hanging onto the Doctor's sleeve" capacity well enough on their own.
Indeed, this is proper Fifth Doctor stuff full stop. I refer of course to the whole cast being herded into the TARDIS, and that wonderfully whimsical mix of the mundane and the magical, in a pastoral setting. You half expect Richard Mace to wander up. And I wonder what Striker and Marriner would make of Sir George? It certainly supports my theory that this Doctor performs better when on "home ground" - Castrovalva, Black Orchid, Visitation and the like. Nice places with leafy trees. Put him in an industrial area, a space base or somewhere dark and soulless, and suddenly the death toll shoots up.
There are nice touches, though. I thought Tegan's run out of the building was very interesting, in that it is just so similar to her exit in Resurrection of the Daleks. I'm going to assume that's foreshadowing. Though he really gets nothing to do in this episode, I'm amused Turlough prefers tea to beer - I always thought he was a wimp and that proves it. I can't remember whether this is canon, semi-canon or invented by me, but I've always liked the idea he had bad asthma at that school, as a result of Earth and Trion atmospheres being different.
And while this isn't quite up to Season 21's usual standards (almost all the named cast survive! Incredible!) it does feature what would be Who's nastiest ever death, if the camera wasn't looking the other way at the time. My mind substituted a massive jet of the red stuff spraying the church roof, so it was OK.
In contrast, Jane makes an adorable spare companion. Her reactions are just too perfect. But that is nothing compared to Will, dear Will, without which this episode would have been nothing. His reaction makes the Malus scary, the civil war real and the burnings tragic. Without him, sure we could have worked these things out - but he really made me feel it. The Doctor clearly thinks he's great too, from quietly showing him the graves, to the confrontation in the church. Lets face it, having already declared that this time there will be another way, had anyone else in that room pushed Sir George into the Malus, the Doc would have gone ape. Will gets away with it - he even gets sympathy. That's because he's too cute to be real.
What else? Apparently, the plot doesn't make much sense - but I think the Malus would be less scary had it's intentions been spelled out in an obvious way, doubtless something to do with destroying the galaxy. The apparitions are, at times, very scary - particularly that baby Malus in the TARDIS. And there's something quietly threatening throughout in the village.
One last thing: Tereleptils!
All in all, I think this is an episode I will never make my mind up about. Is it good? Is it bad? It's genuinely very hard to tell. Scary, or a bit limp? Again, I'm not sure - it can hardly be both. Too long, too short? Even thinking about The Visitation, an episode I've never truly liked, complicates things - I can't even decide whether I like Awakening a lot more, or a lot less.
This much is certain: I was going to try and watch them one at a time, but I've never managed that with doctor five. I now face the utterly terrifying prospect of only having three adventures left.
Monday, December 15, 2008
This is Terminus
Big hairstyles, flirting companions, the Doctor musing "Nyssa’s skirt…" like it’s the type of thing he finds around the TARDIS all the time - what’s not to like about Terminus? When compared to the rest of the Black Guardian Trilogy, Terminus is clearly the weak link in the chain, wedged between two of my favourite episodes. What is harder to determine is where it went wrong.
It’s certainly not in the atmosphere - from the Lazars, the guards, the Garm and everything about Terminus is shoddy, ugly and miserable. It is clearly a place you do not want to spend any time - the nearest it has to medical staff describe themselves as "baggage handlers"
The plot is not intrinsically flawed either. It adds a lot of depth to the DW universe, toying with a whole host of sci-fi concepts. Lazar’s Disease gives the galaxy a social taboo - the type of ordinary problem faced by people when they’re not under threat of invasion - while a slave race kept in servitude by their dependence on a drug is a thoroughly realistic idea. An act of casual littering causing the universe to come into being is also a genius one, and in keeping with the scientific standpoint of the show (in Brain of Morbius, the Doctor finds a rational way of dealing with the Sisterhood’s sacred flame which to them is sustained on faith; more recently, witches, zombies and werewolves have been given scientific origins in Shakespeare Code, Unquiet Dead and Tooth and Claw respectively). I was also satisfied to see the Doctor pained by both the strangulation attempt and thwack to the arm for a considerable time afterwards - it’s easy to forget these things and get straight onto the next scene, but his reaction made those two unconvincing scenes in question feel real.
It doesn’t even go wrong from a character standpoint - Tegan and Turlough spend the whole time flirting with each other in ducts, establishing their relationship for later episodes, while Nyssa is put through an experience sufficiently terrifying to make her want to stay. Individual moments that shine are the Doctor’s polite request that Olvir put the gun away, Turlough’s meditation on cold blooded murder and Nyssa’s departure, which is unfailingly moving. To an extent, this whole cruel episode has been for her benefit - everything about this scene, from her telling Tegan first, to the satisfaction of this planetless drifter finally finding a new home, is pitched perfect. They even reuse the Traken theme tune.
So where did it go wrong? Aside from those fine moments, it’s unengaging for most of the time, and I see no obvious reason why. If you pick on the solid basics as I have above, it seems like a template for a rather impressive and thought provoking episode. To a certain extent, the plot is going through the motions - we have mere moments to save the universe, yawn. Would have been in trouble if the Doctor hadn’t been there! The minor characters are as interesting as ever they are. (Olvir is camply unconvincing, the substitute-lady-companion merely dull. Of the guards, the dying Bor makes the best impression, even if his delivery occasionally reminds one of Monty Python.) But contrived storylines don’t normally irritate me this far, and dull extras are part of the scenery with this show. The bottom line is, something here really isn’t very good; but until I work out what it is, think of it as a missed opportunity. There are a lot of moments and ideas to treasure…absence makes the heart grow fonder, and in this case, treasuring can be best done at a distance.
For fans of Nyssa, this is obviously (and probably also unfortunately) a must see; people following Turlough’s character are also advised to give it a spin, along with any lovers of 80s hairstyles or men in white spandex. It’s also the last episode I would ever show to a fledgling fan, at least if I had to see it with them. Bad acting rarely puts me off entirely, especially from minor characters - it comes with the territory - but the first cliff-hanger, with Olvir’s hilariously poncy "we’re on a leper ship!" makes me cackle with laughter even as I type.
(Incidentally, having four episodes on DVD/video is always a temptation to watch them, in one go. In some cases, its impossible to do anything else. These things were written to be watched days apart, and recently I've started experimenting with watching an episode a day during a week. With some, like Inferno, having to wait 24 hours between episodes gives the cliffhangers their original punch back. But I also recommend it as a method of viewing episodes you find dull - split into 25 minute segments, I found Terminus far more convincing.)
It’s certainly not in the atmosphere - from the Lazars, the guards, the Garm and everything about Terminus is shoddy, ugly and miserable. It is clearly a place you do not want to spend any time - the nearest it has to medical staff describe themselves as "baggage handlers"
The plot is not intrinsically flawed either. It adds a lot of depth to the DW universe, toying with a whole host of sci-fi concepts. Lazar’s Disease gives the galaxy a social taboo - the type of ordinary problem faced by people when they’re not under threat of invasion - while a slave race kept in servitude by their dependence on a drug is a thoroughly realistic idea. An act of casual littering causing the universe to come into being is also a genius one, and in keeping with the scientific standpoint of the show (in Brain of Morbius, the Doctor finds a rational way of dealing with the Sisterhood’s sacred flame which to them is sustained on faith; more recently, witches, zombies and werewolves have been given scientific origins in Shakespeare Code, Unquiet Dead and Tooth and Claw respectively). I was also satisfied to see the Doctor pained by both the strangulation attempt and thwack to the arm for a considerable time afterwards - it’s easy to forget these things and get straight onto the next scene, but his reaction made those two unconvincing scenes in question feel real.
It doesn’t even go wrong from a character standpoint - Tegan and Turlough spend the whole time flirting with each other in ducts, establishing their relationship for later episodes, while Nyssa is put through an experience sufficiently terrifying to make her want to stay. Individual moments that shine are the Doctor’s polite request that Olvir put the gun away, Turlough’s meditation on cold blooded murder and Nyssa’s departure, which is unfailingly moving. To an extent, this whole cruel episode has been for her benefit - everything about this scene, from her telling Tegan first, to the satisfaction of this planetless drifter finally finding a new home, is pitched perfect. They even reuse the Traken theme tune.
So where did it go wrong? Aside from those fine moments, it’s unengaging for most of the time, and I see no obvious reason why. If you pick on the solid basics as I have above, it seems like a template for a rather impressive and thought provoking episode. To a certain extent, the plot is going through the motions - we have mere moments to save the universe, yawn. Would have been in trouble if the Doctor hadn’t been there! The minor characters are as interesting as ever they are. (Olvir is camply unconvincing, the substitute-lady-companion merely dull. Of the guards, the dying Bor makes the best impression, even if his delivery occasionally reminds one of Monty Python.) But contrived storylines don’t normally irritate me this far, and dull extras are part of the scenery with this show. The bottom line is, something here really isn’t very good; but until I work out what it is, think of it as a missed opportunity. There are a lot of moments and ideas to treasure…absence makes the heart grow fonder, and in this case, treasuring can be best done at a distance.
For fans of Nyssa, this is obviously (and probably also unfortunately) a must see; people following Turlough’s character are also advised to give it a spin, along with any lovers of 80s hairstyles or men in white spandex. It’s also the last episode I would ever show to a fledgling fan, at least if I had to see it with them. Bad acting rarely puts me off entirely, especially from minor characters - it comes with the territory - but the first cliff-hanger, with Olvir’s hilariously poncy "we’re on a leper ship!" makes me cackle with laughter even as I type.
(Incidentally, having four episodes on DVD/video is always a temptation to watch them, in one go. In some cases, its impossible to do anything else. These things were written to be watched days apart, and recently I've started experimenting with watching an episode a day during a week. With some, like Inferno, having to wait 24 hours between episodes gives the cliffhangers their original punch back. But I also recommend it as a method of viewing episodes you find dull - split into 25 minute segments, I found Terminus far more convincing.)
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