Skip to main content

The Day of The Doctor.


Tonight was definitely a night for watching television.

This evening saw the broadcast of the much-hyped fiftieth anniversary special of Doctor Who: The Day of The Doctor – and I, like many others across the country, stayed in so I could watch it.

I’ve become something of a fan of the series over the past few years. I saw it occasionally as a child, during the Sylvester McCoy days, but didn’t really get into it until its ‘regeneration’ in 2005 (see what I did there). Even then, I was a bit of a late-starter; I only really started watching properly after I bought a couple of box-sets for my girlfriend for Christmas.

It’s probably not that surprising that I would like it. I was always a bit of a sci-fi fan as a kid (I used to watch Star Trek almost religiously; braving the cold to sit in my mum and dad’s conservatory each week, as the original series was repeated on BBC2).

What I particularly like about the revamped Doctor Who is that it is always built around a good story. It also doesn’t fall into the trap of being too geeky; it’s as accessible to those who have been into it for years as it is to the casual viewer.

They’re also excellent at making the show scary without being gory; you never see blood – and the ‘baddies’ are always something creepy and suitably dark, that plays upon your mind. It makes for perfect children’s television; the sort of thing you’d beg your parents to let you stay up and watch, only to spend the rest of the evening cowering behind a cushion.

Fans of Doctor Who are a little bit like fans of The Beatles; they are very protective of the legacy of their obsession – and always feel that they know best about it. As a result, I’ll keep my writing on the subject brief; I don’t want to step on the toes of the many who know more about the programme than myself.

I will say this, though – much as I like Matt Smith as The Doctor, tonight’s special did make me miss David Tennant. I also would have loved to have seen Christopher Eccleston in it again, though I know that was going to be very unlikely. 

One question that does play on my mind, is this: I wonder what fee Peter Capaldi got for a shot of just his eyes?
 

 
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...
Read more

'...I'm Gonna Look at You 'til My Eyes Go Blind."

Over the past week or two, I’ve been on a bit of a Sheryl Crow kick, largely thanks to rediscovering her cover of one of my most-liked Bob Dylan songs. She has one of my favourite female voices, yet despite this, I only own one CD and that’s just a single (her '97 release ‘Hard to Make a Stand’); on that basis, you can only imagine how much of her back catalogue I’d own if I hated her (it would fall into minus-figures). Dylan, conversely, takes up more of my collection than anyone else, save The Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work. He’s one of those artists who, when you get him, you really get him - and once I’d tuned into his style as a student, I'd time and again be blown away by his lyrics; he’ll have more jaw-dropping imagery in one track than other people fit in a whole career. These days, I mostly listen to music in the morning when getting ready, and more often than not, this will consist of a suggested YouTube playlist when I’m in the bath, r...
Read more

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...
Read more