Dance Inferno

"So, free will is not an illusion after all."

                                                                      -- The Third Doctor

Proper PPE is essential

Re-watching Inferno in 2021, I can't help wondering which Earth we're on. Perhaps I had a somewhat smug sense of relief viewing the story in the past. Our universe was fine. Good old Earth prime, where everything always worked out. Not that dumpster-fire of a parallel Earth with its orange filtered skies (sound familiar) and leather jack boots. I'd have a slightly nauseous feeling as that gooey lava rushed forward to consume alt-Greg Sutton and the rest of the doppel-gang. Poor buggers. 

These days, I'm not so sure which universe we live in. As climate change and COVID-19 and right-wing, populous governments remap our realities, I tend to feel a little more anxious about the Stahlmans of the world winning out.

Inferno is an extremely beloved story, from the oft told eye-patch stories to the inspiration of adding the parallel universe plot to beef up its episode count. But its status is well-earned. The performances are elevated. Olaf Pooley (Stahlmann) manages to produce two subtly modulated performances, with his alt universe variation standing as a slightly more aloof, single-minded mad man. I imagine alt-Stahlmann sleeping on his couch in his office, while prime-Stahlmann actually has a wife (albeit neglected) who arranges his dry cleaning and makes excuses for oft cancelled dinner parties. "St-alt-mann" always seems slightly crueler as well, rubbing the faces of his technicians in the green goo to accelerate their transformations into Primords. Or was it just a case of prime-Stahlmann never getting the chance?

Meanwhile Christopher Benjamin adds a sense of comfort, security and a twinkle which never lets the viewer completely give into despair (oh for the Sir Keiths of the world who will always make sure there is seat for everyone in the canteen). And Derek Newark's special brand of edge-of-the-razor machismo (which manifests itself in both a sweaty neck kerchief and a form fitted suit) anchors the action even as the hopelessness factor steadily rises. 

Although Inferno is as dark as Doctor Who gets (see also The Waters of Mars and Orphan 55), there is great catharsis in the ending the story with no more damage than a few barbed comments from the Doctor towards the Brigadier.

Locations: Kingsnorth Industrial Estate, Hoo St Werburgh, Kent. The perfect location for all your dystopian needs.

Call Forwards: "Pete's World" in Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel would see another foray into a parallel Earth during David Tennant's freshman year, while series 12's Orphan 55 offers a chilling vision of an Earth ravaged by environmental disaster. 

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? Er, the ever dependable Pat Gorman was indeed in the latter.

Cheese Please:  A lava hot baked brie

Next Up:   Recycle Your Plastics

Mars Attacks!

Doctor Who has a mother (Verity Lambert) and father (Sydney Newman) it also has two influential godfathers: Nigel Kneale (Quatermass) and Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). The former can be felt in the early 70s era of the program, while Adams, late as always, didn't show up until the late 70s. 

I came late to Quatermass, with its modern British rocket program and science-y gravitas, long after I'd absorbed its influence through Doctor Who through stories such as The Daemons, Image of Fendahl and of course Ambassadors of Death.  The latter in it's cloudy, black and white, pre-vidfired version was frankly stiff and boring viewing.

And it moved like a slug stalling for time. And if you asked me summarize the story I'd have had to reach for my ragged copy of the Jean-Marc Lofficier guide, because I almost always fell asleep somewhere in the middle of the late night omnibus version that played during my early teen years.

Flashforward years later to the golden era of region-free DVD players, cheap flights to London and generously stocked shelves of a Virgin superstore: I picked up a boxset of the existing Quatermass television serials.  They were a revelation. With relatively simple production values they were a masterclass in slow-burn storytelling, solid characterization and mood. Start with Quatermass and the Pit: it's the most accessible and then move on to Quatermass II (sadly only a couple of episodes exist of the first serial, The Quatermass Experiment). You can see a harder version of the relationship between the Doctor and the Brigadier in the pairing of Professor Bernard Quatermass and Colonel Breen. The spirit of scientific curiosity butting heads with order, skepticism and blowing stuff up.

The Ambassadors of Mars excels in the verisimilitude that runs confidently through season 7 of the series.  Characters and groups have agendas and there are (mostly) plausible attempts to fulfil them. We get a rich array of characters representing every aspect of the drama: scientists, the military, the media.

Locations:  Lafarge Aggregates (Marlow), Coldmoorholme Lane, Spade Oak, Little Marlow, Buckinghamshire: Another time honoured gravel pit and Reegan's fave spot to dump bodies.

Call Forwards: Mars will pop up a couple of times in the post 2005 series. The Waters of Mars will introduce a nasty liquid, lunching on the human explorers to the red planet.  Later in The Empress of Mars we'll see a return of the Ice Warriors to Mars along with Victorian soldiers for a tale of intergalactic colonialism.

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? The ever reliable Cyril Shaps was in Hammer's Rasputin, the Mad Monk from 1966.  And Geoffrey Beevers played a gravedigger in the Hammer House of Horror episode "Growing Pains."

Cheese Please:  Aged Havarti from the Empire Cheese Cooperative 

Next Up:  It's the End of the World as We Know It

The Road to Wenley Moor

"But if you trust me, I think I can persuade the humans that you are prepared to live with them on this planet in peace."    --The Doctor

Doctor Who and the Silurians rises in my esteem everytime I watch it. To be fair, my first watch was a grainy black & white broadcast 35 years ago.

The world views of the producers, writers and directors of the program are frequently apparent.

Seeking peace is always risky, but through the Doctor, as an outsider, Doctor Who imbues the cause with a higher authority; an idealized striving for a better world. 

Malcolm Hulke leaves the ultimate decision with us though, when he chooses to let the Brigadier blow up the Silurian base. Hulke was always speaking to us. Peace is always something to work towards even when the circumstances are as seemingly overwhelming as an alien race that specializes in creating super-soldiers in the refining fires of The War Games (in that instance, even the Doctor had to call on a higher force--the Time Lords--to resolve the situation).

Doctor Who and the Silurians is an extraordinary, layered story, that holds up even at the improbable length of seven episodes. Hulke knew his craft (hell the man wrote the book: Writing for Television in the Seventies) and he was working with compelling stuff. Biological warfare, sabotage, heavy artillery (well a big rubber, CSO dinosaur), and yes, those who thirst to profit from conflict (I'm looking at you Dr. Quinn).

Here is Hulke speaking about Terra Luna, which he was commissioned to write with Eric Paice by Sydney Newman for ABC television:

“We soon see how the plight of one human being in an Earth-bound rocket catches the imagination of the whole world. Radar stations – Russian, American, British and others – are linked in a global effort to bring the rocket home. Space travel, it turns out, is a great unifying influence among the nations. The old law of the sea becomes the law of space too.”

Extraordinary circumstances can unite human beings to rise above themselves, come together and exhibit great bravery, creativity and ingenuity--the same circumstances can also uncover our fear and loathing of the unknown; turn us into a pitchfork-wielding mob.

But Hulke is more subtle and sophisticated. Through his characters he offers us variations on a theme: Dr. Lawrence (Peter Myles) puts his head in the sand for stubborn careerism, Major Baker (Norman Jones) sees his opportunity to make up for past mistakes, while Miss Dawson simply wants revenge for what she sees as Dr. Quinn's straightforward murder. And of course in the end the Brigadier holds steadfastly to the letter of his duty by parsing the odds, and protect the state/planet/the Home Counties from what he sees as an ongoing threat.

Into this scenario it's fascinating to consider the Doctor' s motivations. He clearly believes that the two species can live together on the planet to the extent that he actually proposes a rough plan: the Silurians can inhabit the parts of the planet that are too inhospitable to humans, because these areas are actually better suited to the needs/biology of the reptiles. But we're dealing with issues of racism (the humans clearly fear 'the other' and the Silurians feel a strong sense of superiority to the humans--they view them as apes and as pests), and resource scarcity (the Silurians are 'stealing' power from the humans and feel strongly that the earth isn't big enough to share with the humans; the humans don't want these 'immigrants' coming in and putting a drain on their society--this is more implied than stated outright).

The Doctor has seen how large and wonderous the universe is, and despite being confined to one planet in one time, he still sees the infinite possibilities; sharing the planet can happen if he can just get both sides to talk. He's willing to take the risk of seeking peace, even if it upsets his friends and allies. Honestly, he could easily opt out and let his exile/sentence run out but he actually chooses to intercede/meddle (which surely would negate any hope for early release/parole).

Sadly, the more hardline, cautious factions prevail. The 'young Silurian' executes the leader who is more open to negotiating. I do find it curious that Hulke chooses to make the old guard more tolerant and open to change. It's an interesting inversion of the youth rising up for change (which would be explored later stories like The Green Death.) This may reflect Hulke's own experience in socialist/communist circles).  Hulke once wrote:

Once a man starts wanting to believe in a thing, it’s just about time he really set about some deep thinking…Could it be that Communism is a wonderful idea but that its philosophy is inherited with some not easily definable something that, at least, in present, day society, tends rather to gather to itself mentalities of a not wholly desirable type?…And if that is the case, and if Communism, managed to gain control in this country, just what sort of people would we expect to find governing us?

One wonders if Hulke equates the 'young Silurian' not with the entrenched old guard, but with young ideologues who aren't interested in shaping or adapting their theories in the real world, but just rigidly applying them. 

There is also some evidence to suggest that the British communist party was considerably suspicious of Hulke's motives and loyalty and closely monitored him. Check out this well researched article, "Doctor Who and the Communist: The work and politics of Malcolm Hulke", from which I've sourced the above information.  One can certainly see aspects of his experience with the British communist party present in Doctor Who and Silurians: the Doctor is a free thinker and judges the situation from his own experience; he may be allied to UNIT and the government at times for the common good, but where those interests diverge from his own beliefs and conscience, loyalty and friendship do not prevent him from doing what he knows to be right.

Locations: Marylebone Station: where Masters arrives back in London and unwittingly causes the outbreak of the Silurian virus. Hankley Common in Surrey fills in for the fictional Wenley Moor (no, sadly we're not actually in Derbyshire--the production crew had hoped to film at the Wookey Hole caves in Somerset but alas the money was not forthcoming and Doctor Who would have to sit on its hands until Revenge of the Cybermen.)

Call Forwards:  Harriet Jones would order the Torchwood attack on the fleeing Sycorax 35 years later in The Christmas Invasion. The Doctor would proof to be less forgiving on that occasion.

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? Peter Halliday was in Captain Clegg (1962); Gordon Richardson (Squire) played an uncredited "Aggressive" in Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1974).

Cheese Please:  A nice Gouda.

Next Up:  Mars Attacks!

Striking Out On Film

"I couldn't bear the thought of being tied to one planet and one time."                                  

 --The Third Doctor

With the recent death of Terrance Dicks and the marking of Jon Pertwee's 100th birthday in July, I've begun to hear a ticking that can only be a timey-wimey call from the future to finally commence my Third Doctor rewatch.

Doctor Who loves a new beginning and Spearhead from Space is one of its best.  There's a breezy verve and a fresh-off-the-line sense right from the get go. We've got colour, check; new Doctor (Jon Pertwee), check; new companion (Caroline John as Liz Shaw, check); Nicholas Courtenay is back as the Brigadier, check; the Doctor is exiled on Earth, check. Now let's dig into the story.

Here we're treated to the only Doctor Who story in the original run of the program to be presented entirely on film (and location) owing to industrial action at the BBC.  It's the love child of BBC modesty and ITV shine. This leads to some great directorial touches like Liz's Shaw's arrival in a car at UNIT headquarters, complete with jazzy flute and trumpet solo, the barrage of photographers descending on the Brigadier, the 'walk and talks' through the hospital corridors (with staff scurrying around in the background) and through the hospital grounds. And who can forget the sight of the Doctor lathering up in the shower while humming an opera tune.

Who can forget Liz Shaw's ample mascara, the cosy feel of the cottage hospital with its funky mod curtains, and smart nurses' uniforms,  the fact that the Autons wear scarves, and plucky Meg Seeley standing up to her home invader with her trusty double barrel shotgun.

But god don't I just love all the wonderful, character-filled faces too: John Woodnutt with his chunky, awkward glasses purring his lines (Hibbert), Derek Smee, all pasty, wide-eyed and perpetually bewildered (Ransome), Neil Wilson, always looking like the kid caught in the act (Sam Seeley) and of course Talfryn Thomas as Mullins the porter.

There are also some deeply unsettling deaths that remain a touchstone of season 7 Doctor Who:  the two UNIT soldiers who we get to know interrogating Sam Sealey are gruesomely and bloodily  acquainted with a windscreen when their jeep swerves off the road; and poor Ransome who is vapourize utterly in a cloud of of orange smoke. Total destruction indeed.

Locations: Holloway, London (the plastics factory); Evesham, Worcestershire (Scobie's House); Wisley, Surrey (the forest where the TARDIS materializes/Doctor falls out); Wheelbarrow Castle Cottage, Radford, Worcestershire (the Seeley cottage); Hatchford Park, Hatchford, Surrey (Ashbridge Cottage Hospital).

Call Forwards: The Autons and the Nestene would return 35 years later to launch the modern era of Doctor Who in "Rose", with a similar attack by shop dummies.  You would never see a bloody face smashed against a vehicle screen on modern Who. Oh and I once saw Tessa Shaw, the actor who played the UNIT officer at the start of the story, years ago at GallifreyOne in autograph alley.  She looked to me with her coiffed hair and twin set like Rita Sullivan from Coronation Street.

Hammer Horror or I, Claudius? Hugh Burden (Channing) played Geoffrey Dandridge in Blood From the Mummy's Tomb (1971); Neil Wilson (Sam Sealey) played a policeman in Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971) and a schoolmaster in The Horror of Frankenstein (1971) and a guard in The Damned (1962); 

Cheese Please: A strong 5-year aged cheddar with some bite.

Next Up: Doctor Who and Some Cave Monsters

Coming Soon: A Rewatch of the Jon Pertwee Era

Well after 6 years I've decided to breath new life into this blog and re-watch the stories of the Third Doctor, Jon Pertwee.  Look for it April 2017.

As an appetizer for this re-watch, you can read "Wine, Cheese and Moralizing", an article I wrote for the Doctor Who Information Network's (DWIN) fanzine Enlightenment back in 1999:

Wine, Cheese and Moralizing

The Pertwee era has always been like comfort food for me; when I’m sick, tired or just plain worn down by the world, it serves as the best possible tonic. The quintessential image I have of the third Doctor is from Day of the Daleks, sashaying into Sir Reginald Styles drawing room with a vintage red wine and a tray of Gorgonzola cheese. The only thing missing was an Ogron at his feet to fetch his slippers.

Later on in that same story, the Doctor would be seen tasting a little “22nd century hospitality” as he imbibed and nibbled with that misguided Dalek-collaborator, the Controller. Even with bone-headed Ogrons and screeching Daleks at every corner, there was always time for some civilized fare.

Certainly there was plenty of wine and soya-cheese to go around at the “nuthatch” in The Green Death. Even amidst a group of earnest, tree-huggers, the Doctor managed to add an element of “joie de vie.” And then there was that highly suspicious line he uttered at the beginning of Carnival of Monsters as the Doctor and Jo stepped into the hold of an Edwardian cargo ship, “Ah, the air is like wine!”

This man wasn’t going to let galactic domination or ten foot tall, bug-eyed monsters get in the way of the finer things in life.

The Pertwee Doctor was the epitome of the upper middle-class, English intellectual. A kind of Henry Higgins (as portrayed by Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady) for the forth dimension. Arrogant, rude, impeccably dressed and constantly moralizing to anyone within earshot.

 “Why can’t the English learn to speak?” Railed Henry Higgins

“The power was within you all along. All you needed was a little encouragement from me.” Assured the Doctor.

Higgins believed that social class was basically a fraud and that even a flower girl could be trained to appear and behave as a duchess given the proper training and environment. He had absolutely no tolerance for façade or pretense, and yet look at the way he ran his household, conducted his affairs and treated poor Eliza Doolittle.

Pertwee’s Doctor loved his smoking jackets, frilly shirts, and antique cars, but he always had a mouthful of insults to inflict on the various civil servants and authority figures he encountered (“You, sir, are an idiot”). And yet, look at the “authority” he commanded himself. When the Doctor and Jo showed up on Peladon, he was immediately mistaken for the Earth Chairman delegate. Nobody dared question it. And he was certainly up to the challenge.

Quite simply, the man had all the answers—or at least all of Barry Letts’ answers—and he didn’t suffer fools gladly. (“Did you fail Latin too, Jo?”)  If only we’d rid ourselves of our desire for material possessions (crushed velvet and dematerialization circuits notwithstanding), clean up our filthy little planet and learn to live in peace with the Sea Devils, we’d all be a lot better off.

But what makes the third Doctor so irresistible, even today, is that he was very much a product of his times—the early seventies. Things were settling down a little bit after the turbulent sixties and the “me” generation was just starting to gear up. Wine and cheese parties were all the rage in suburbia, but people still talked about making the world a better place. One could pamper oneself, but still feel that one was making a difference. The id, the ego and the super ego living in, er, harmony.

I have no doubt that when the Doctor was exiled to Earth, he took a long hard look at his 500 year-old existence and said, “Might as well live the good life.”  When you’re restricted to one planet and one time—suddenly clothes matter.

And so he tinkered with the Tardis console as if it were an errant eight-track tape player, engaged his passions for gadgets and chase-utility vehicles, and set out to transform Jo into an elegant, upper-middle class, intellectual consort (or scientist so he said). She was certainly pulling it off by the time The Curse of Peladon was transmitted.

The third Doctor became the “cultural laureate” of our little UNIT family. That little bit of class that raised Sgt. Benton and Mike Yates beyond their corned beef sandwich/ ”football match on the tube” lives.

Juxtaposed against the debonair Doctor were the Brigadier and the Master. In the earlier stories, the Brigadier served as the Doctor’s back-up—heightening the Time Lord’s sense of authority. He was Colonel Pickering to the Doctor’s Henry Higgins. Sturdy and reliable, he always asked the practical questions (later of course he took on the equally necessary, but somewhat misplaced role of buffoonish authority figure to be mocked).

The Master by comparison was the gentleman’s genteel nemesis. His elaborate master plans and traps always allowed the Doctor to come across as clever and suave. With a villain like that, one never had to worry about mud on the waistcoat. Here was an arch-enemy you could sit down with over drinks before engaging in lethal battle. By comparison the Daleks, Cybermen and Ice Warriors were positively proletariat.

Alas, the champagne toast at the end of The Green Death would be the last of it’s kind. Season eleven brought independent Sarah Jane Smith and her sensible shoes. Suddenly the old Doc looked over-dressed for the occasion.

Short of a little drinky with Edward of Wessex in The Time Warrior, the party was over. Come to think of it, there wasn’t quite the same reception upon his second trip to Peladon either. And Mike Yates in Invasion of the Dinosaurs proved what the product of too much moralizing could be.

Metebelis 3 finally saw the unraveling for our dandy friend. The first time he showed up, his fancy threads were (symbolically?) left in tatters. The return trip finished him off. Or did the times just change? I guess by that point we’d polished off the bottle of Chardonnay, licked the cheese from our finger tips (and gotten it all over our crushed velvet jackets). We were ready to face a world that was just a little bit unpredictable.

Jon Pertwee wasn’t my favorite Doctor. His stories rarely enflamed my imagination. But when the rain starts pouring down or work starts getting too stressful it’s nice to know he’s there.

I Was Unprepared for the Moment

No matter how I'm feeling about its story mechanics, the new companions or even Tom Baker's question-mark infested lapels, Logopolis is always an emotional story. And no more so after this incredible rewatch. It's meant to be epic, and the excitement and dread I felt the first time I watched the story still echoes across the years (not unlike the Watcher himself).

The money shot of Logopolis has always been that moment when the Doctor emerges from the TARDIS, having escaped the Master's little recursive trap, to spy the Watcher standing by the fence on the other side of the Barnett bypass. The haunting look on Tom Baker's face and the lovely little bit of sad incidental music from Paddy Kingsland are married into one of Doctor Who's truly iconic moments. And thanks to the fall filming schedule, you can see the Doctor's breath, adding an extra layer of poignancy.

The show feels like a different program since the season eighteen debut of The Leisure Hive. The domestics between Tegan and Auntie Vanessa are light years away from the otherworldly discourse of the Doctor and Romana.

And to paraphrase Alice I try to believe 6 impossible things after imbibing a bottle of red wine:

• That you can flush out your evil nemesis by materializing your TARDIS under the Thames and opening the door.
• That the Doctor would fall for that phony Light Speed Overdrive trick; I mean couldn't the Master materialize inside the control room and THEN take the damned thing out.
• How exactly were the peoples of the universe suppose to respond to the Master? Was there a 1-800 number? Were they supposed to text STOP or UNCLE?
• Why didn't the Doctor and Tegan just allow Nyssa's rogue arm to strangle Adric. Think of all the grief that could have been avoided!
• Retroactively, was the 4th Doctor particularly fragile when he fell from that telescope? After all the 10th Doctor managed quite the impressive skydive in The End of Time.

And so the "grand tour" comes to an end after a little over 10 months later. And what a fantastic journey it's been. Appointment Doctor Who is always special and adds that extra bit of anticipation to the nostalgia. It's remarkable to experience the changes that came during the fourth Doctor's era. Between 1974 and 1981 Doctor Who changed with the world around it. Robot and Logopolis look like very different programs, with both the Doctor and Tom Baker almost unrecognizable from start to finish. Try and imagine the universe-weary soul who paces around the TARDIS cloister room, jumping rope with Harry Sullivan. It blows my mind thinking about it. Those early stories had an optimism about leaving behind the earth-bound UNIT set-up and strikingly out into the Hinchcliffe/Holmes universe.

Trying to block out viewing time each week was also a challenge. This was a solitary viewing experience and while it became essential viewing, it was just watching the same old, same old Doctor Who to my partner, family and friends. It certainly helped to open that bottle of wine every week, mind you. All good ritual must have its accoutrements. I will certainly miss wandering through the aisles of the Summerhill LCBO, marveling at the hundreds and hundreds of vintages and table wines. I always felt a rush when I found a selection that perfectly complemented a story.

And of course there is always that bittersweet feeling when doing a rewatch that I might be watching a particular story for the last time. I encourage any Doctor Who fan to take the plunge and do a sequential rewatch. Feel free to use my reflections as a jumping off point or better yet, go out and buy yourself a copy of Running Through Corridors by Toby Hadoke and Rob Shearman. Heck, when their second volume comes out I'll probably be tempted to do the whole thing over again.

Viva la 4th Doctor, may he live forever!

Original viewing date: December 31, 1984

Wine: Black Tower Dornfielder Pinot Noir

Music: "Missing You," by John Waite

Spoilers

Warning: This blog entry may contain spoilers for movies and television series that you may not have seen if you've been living in a nuclear fallout shelter the past 30 years.

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A month before Return of the Jedi came to our local theater in Comox, I bought a comic book adaptation of the movie.

Like most kids, the years between Empire and Jedi were pure torture. Endless speculation abounded about what would happen. I remember months after Empire came out, my friends and I acting out possible outcomes with our Star Wars figures. What would Jabba look like? How would they get Han back? Everybody thought Darth Vader must be lying when he told Luke he was his father. Several months before Jedi came out, Fantastic Films magazine put out an issue where they analysed what might happen next (I still have that issue -- it's the only one I kept).

My mom was with me when I bought that Jedi comic book adaptation and I placed it in her hands and instructed her not to let me have it under any circumstances. Of course she challenged the logic of even buying it in the first place, but she didn't understand kid or geek logic.

The hunt was on. Not more than a day later, I began searching the house high and low. Kudos to my Mom, she hid it well. Years of elaborate Christmas-present-hiding-fakeouts were on her side.
By I prevailed and eventually found it about a week before Jedi came to town. I would only take one little peek I told myself. A fleeting glance of Bib Fortuna was too much for me. Remorse set in and I carefully returned the comic to its hiding place.

In the end I watched Return of the Jedi spoiler free and thrilled at all the surprises and revelations. When I finally read the comic I was outraged at all the cool bits that were left out (no frame of Darth Vader with his mask off -- how could they!)

Here's the thing though, that same issue of Fantastic Films contained interviews with John Nathan Turner and Peter Davison about some weird British show called Doctor Who. Sprinkled throughout were meaningless little details that would soon come to be my first real introduction to "spoilers." First and foremost, somebody called The Master would take over someone called The Keeper and then "tussle" with the Doctor, causing the latter's death.

Think about that statement, as a Doctor Who fan, and see both the hidden momentousness of it and the flawed inaccuracies inherent in it.

Spoilers are double edged: they can ruin surprise, but the can also create anticipation. Everyone has a different tolerance for them. Some people don't want to know an episode title, others will turn the television off or run from the room before the "next time" trailer. And some will search out the back alleys of the internet to find the smallest scrap of what comes next.

Frankly, it wouldn't have made much different if I'd know the Melkur contained the Master. The character hadn't yet attained his mythical significance for me. But the spoiler imbued him with that quality. The coming of the Master represented the beginning of the end for a Doctor I cherished and loved. The omen was clear: a tussle to the death. And funny thing is, I only knew that the Master would take over the Keeper. As far as I was concerned, that was the withered old guy in the chair, and then Kassia. A little bit of info can sometimes offer a lot of fakeout. Besides the clues were pretty apparent from the get go. Readings that suggested another TARDIS, a withered figure in cloak, etc.

Mind you if I'd learned Adric was going to die, before watching Earthshock, it definitely would have lessened the shock and awe of that viewing experience.

These days I tend to avoid spoilers. The big shocker at the beginning of The Impossible Astronaut were an utter surprise, as was the ending to the The Almost People. And it was good old fashioned clues that pretty much made it obvious that River Song was the daughter of Amy and Rory. A friend, Robert, fled from the television before the next time trailer came up. My partner on the other hand has to know exactly how a story will end before he'll even watch it. He doesn't really get the idea of drama.

Curiously, I was watching Jedi several months back and I couldn't help noting that there isn't really all that much in the surprise department. There's another Death Star that predictably gets blown up at the end. You know the rebels will triumphe over the Empire and the revelation that Princess Leia is Luke's sister is a bit more yucky than any significant revelation.

Human beings struggle with the unknown constantly, and spoilers are just one little geeky line that some people draw in the Tatooine sand. As Mom used to say, "What's your hurry, it will all be over soon enough."

Original viewing date: December 24, 1984

Wine: I had two choices and I went for the less obvious one: "The Stubborn Patriarch" just looked like a better wine than "Union" and I have no regrets, no I tell you, no regrets.
Music: "Give My Regards to Broadstreet" by Paul McCartney

Love Letter to Lalla

Lalla Ward stole my heart within the first 10 minutes of Destiny of the Daleks (I remained unmoved throughout The Armageddon Factor). When Tom pulled the hat off her head, a big goofy grin spread across my face. I suppose, really I was in love with Romana II. The whimsical waif who was the calm head and constant companion to the latter-era Fourth Doctor.

City of Death was probably where I (and thousands of others) became truly smitten. Donning a school girl outfit, she is equal cosmic pixie and your best friend/fag hag from high school. In fact there was a girl, Amanda, in my drama class who looked a lot like the Time Lady. She even dressed in a similar fashion. Amanda had a wicked sense of humour and an artsy sensibility. It was a crush-by-association. Unfortunately, although we got along well, I felt more like Matthew Waterhouse in her presence; slightly awkward and never as good of an actor.

Lalla could make certain daft elements of a script sing. Taking on the "Doctor" role in The Horns of Nimon, she brought gravitas to her investigation of Crinoth that made it seem like a different story altogether. And when Christopher Bidmead decided to enlighten us with his Wikipedia entry for consonantal shift in State of Decay she actually sells it with charm and grace.

And while the scripts for Warrior's Gate seem a bit rushed in terms of her departure, there is something kind of nice about the way Romana rises to her decision on the fly. We've had hints that she was loathe to return to her previous sedate life on Gallifrey. I think it just added to the bittersweet quality of her departure. Where she donned an imitation copy of the Doctor's outfit in Destiny, here she get's her own pocket universe to champion.

Moments of Lalla's performance will always stay with me: "Yum, yum, bouillabaisse," in City of Death or that beaming smile she gives in Full Circle when the Doctor restores her to health. The way she carried off schoolgirl and Edwardian bathing outfits.

And in real life, I love the image of her accompanying Douglas Adams to the London premiere of The Empire Strikes Back. Surely any geek's dream date, gay or straight.

Alas Lalla's career never really went anywhere after Doctor Who. A few bit parts and a Shannon- Doherty length marriage to Tom Baker followed. These days she's more well known as the wife of world famous atheist Richard Dawkins. I still intend to get me an audiobook copy of The God Delusion (which she narrates) just so I can fall asleep to her lovely voice telling me to switch the lights out when I'm done with my mortal coil.

Until then, I'll look fondly back on the time when a blond-haired angel who made techno-babble sing made my hormones dance. She truly was the best Romana of all!

Original viewing date: December 17, 1984

Wine: Henry of Pelham Baco Noir, because it also makes me tingle.

Music: "On the Edge of a Dream" by Joe Cocker.

A State of Excitement

I love State of Decay beyond all reason. Terrance Dicks crashed the party that is season 18, bringing blood, peasants and lots of tasty leftovers from season 13. Where to begin? Well, Vampires camping out in a converted spaceship for starters. That's Doctor Who 101. Time Lords and bow ships. Tick. Sumptuous costumes and set design married to dim lighting.

The wasting! What the hell is that anyway? The drops of blood Camilla failed to lick off of Lalla's luscious fingers? Or is it some secret ritual associated with Aukon's man-boy-love aspirations?

There really is something slightly kinky about this whole story, which makes sense considering the undead genre and Hammer Horror under-girding. The selection is really about who is hot and who is not. So the goodies end up being a bunch of bent over old men playing with the features on their Commodore 64s. Hmm what exactly is uncle Terrance implying? Mind you, apparently Adric possesses just enough sex appeal for the lecherous Aukon to cast an eye his way. Perhaps everyone's favourite whipping boy should have kept his gold gilded scarlet get up for the rest of his travels. He could have caught the eye of Seron or the Monitor or been set up in a nice little situation with one of Lady Cranleigh's unwed uncles.

Sadly, the production does kind of let down the story at the end. The giant vampire looks like something you get for a quarter next to the gumball machines (when you really wanted the slime). I do like a nice monster melting, mind you, and this ones a doozy. "Moisturize us, moisturize us."

Thanks Uncle Terrance, for being so damned reliable. See you for the 20th anniversary!

Original viewing date: December 10, 1984

Wine: "Red Splash" a blend of everything.

Music: "Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen (oh look Courtney Cox, jeez I feel old).

Behind the Curtain

Growing up, I was always catching hell from my dad for taking things apart. To be fair, my father is a brilliant mechanic who worked as an aero-engine tech for years in the Canadian Armed Forces and lovingly restored a 1967 Mustang to mint condition.

Mostly I got lectured because I never had an inclination to put the dismantled item back together again (his portable bar set, his vise grip, basically anything with screws). Thing is I quickly became disappointed with what I found -- all the mystery of the object dissipated. It's not easy to admit this. You always hear stories of scientists as children, disassembling the family lawnmower or some such thing and then going on to great fame.

Dad was always trying to get me to help him with the car or the washing machine, but it always ended with me doing the wrong thing, him yelling, me being resentful and him feeling disappointed.

Growing up is all about discovering how and why the world works. Whether you become a writer, a plumber or a safe cracker, success largely depends on how well you understand the mechanics of your craft. Many times this can mean incredible liberation. Coming to believe that religious texts are not literal can deeply enrich ones faith, or psychology and sociology classes in university can help people better understand human relationships (or annoy their mother by becoming increasingly obnoxious, as in my case).

And then there are our fantasies that don't stand up too well to reality. My friend Graeme describes Doctor Who as having an "open source" fandom. Essentially this means that it encourages fans to go beyond what's happening onscreen and appreciate the inner workings and dramatic techiniques used to create it. This lead to fans like Steven Moffat and Russell T Davies writing and producing the program. Doctor Who never had that appeal for me. It was purely a narrative experience -- I was looking for escapism.

I can only imagine the bubbles that would have been burst if my 15-year-old self had been privy to the commentary track on Full Circle. For that version of me, the story was exciting and mysterious. To hear Christopher H Bidmead and Andrew Smith talk about behind-the-scenes troubles, or Matthew Waterhouse make his little passive aggressive jibes about Lalla Ward would have been akin to learning that my father was having an affair.

Fast forward to 1999 when Graeme encouraged me to write for Enlightenment, the fanzine he started editing. It was really the first time I stepped back and began examining the inner workings of program. I was given the David Howe/Stephen James Walker tome, Doctor Who: The Television Companion, I started going to the monthly Doctor Who "tavern" get together, and, gasp, conventions. Suddenly I knew the difference between the directing style of David Maloney and Pennant Roberts. At Gallifrey, the legendary annual Doctor Who convention in LA I was privy to gossip and folklore that curled my toes.

Several years ago DWIN brought in John Leeson as its guest for a Who Party and as a contributing member I was afforded the opportunity to sip wine with him at a special gathering. He was so charming, witty, and knowledgeable: the image of him entertaining us from an armchair has stuck with me for many years. Then I began to re-experience the same stories on DVD extras and other places, told with the same cadences and flourishes and it quickly became apparent that this was a "script" he used for dealing with the public. And I completely understand that and it doesn't diminish his craft at all. But it does reinforce the inevitable gulf between fantasy and reality -- even the "reality" behind the fantasy turns out to be something of a fantasy.

While I'm not immune to some of the more lurid gossip, it's the enthusiasm of some recollections that I love the most. On the Meglos extras, watching Andrew McCulloch and John Flanagan wander around London reminiscing about their time penning Meglos is nothing short of delightful, particularly when they stop in on Christopher H Bidmead and he offers them a glass of wine. And as a bit of trivia, Aunt Vanessa's house in Logopolis was in fact the residence of McCulloch at the time.

Ultimately I can still sit back and escape into the fantasy of a starliner being invaded by marshmen without worrying too much about the logic of the script or whether Tom and Lalla were glowering at each from across a sound stage. An thankfully I now live with someone who will put anything back together after I've made a hash of it. I've truly come full circle!

Original viewing date: December 3, 1984

Spirit: An "Alzarian Blast-off" a drink of my own concoction. Take a shot of vodka, a shot of melon liqueur, with marshmallows on a skewer.

Music: "Nobody Told Me" by John Lennon.

"Gangers"

Jacqueline Hill's appearance in Meglos is a bit of an oddity in that never before or since in the program's history has a major cast member returned in a completely different role, with no reference to it made in the script and very little fanfare. And you know, I kinda like it. Lexa is nothing like Barbara, and it's a tribute to Hill that after numerous years of not acting, she's so good and so distinctive (in the DVD tribute to Hill we were treated to a clip of Hill playing mama Capulet in a 1978 television production of Romeo and Juliet and she's equally marvelous).

Ironically, Hill appears in a story where a doppelganger plays a significant part in the plot. Despite the fact that Meglos is a rather mediocre story, Tom Baker does some nice work differentiating his characterization of Meglos from that of the Doctor. Sure there are a few shouty OTT moments, but the modulation he employs with his eyes is brilliant. Meglos is hard and determined. Baker also plays the Doctor's confusion at being accused of cactus's various crimes very authentically.

And if I could heap an extra helping of irony onto my plate, Sunday morning I watched The Almost People (second part of The Rebel Flesh). The two-parter, while being a very traditional story, offered some really interesting insights into identity. With various characters duplicated to perform dangerous mining tasks, the "Gangers" originally seem to be little more than extensions of the original humans (not unlike someone being projected as a hologram). Thanks to a handy dandy solar tsunami the Gangers begin to act independently. What is left extremely ambiguous is the nature of the raw "flesh." It appears to be alive in its own right -- there are discarded Gangers who appear to be in pain (at least Jennifer maintains it is).

Doubles figure prominently in the top 10 of popular sci-fi tropes, whether used superficially as a plot point , or mined for more philosophical purposes in terms of identity ( the movie Moon, the two Will Rikers on ST: TNG or the parallel universe in Fringe) .

Doctor Who has a staggering history of dealing in doubles:

1. William Hartnell took on the role of the Abbot of Amboise (The Massacre) and along with Edmund Warwick portrayed a robot version of himself.
2. The whole TARDIS crew discovered future versions of themselves (The Space Museum)
3. Ben and Polly were duplicated by the Chameleons (The Faceless Ones)
   
4. Patrick Troughton played the baddie Salamander (Enemy of the World)
5. Spearhead from Space concerns an alien race trying duplicate various important figures with Auton doppelgangers
   
6. Nicholas Courtney, Carolyn Johns, John Levene and much of the cast of Inferno play parallel universe versions of themselves
   
7. The third Doctor and Jo briefly encounter future versions of themselves (Day of the Daleks)
8. Ian Marter stepped out as a Zygon impersonator of Harry Sullivan (Terror of the Zygons)
   
9. Tom Baker played an android copy of himself (The Android Invasion), as did John Levene, Ian Marter and Elizabeth Sladen
10. Old Reuben the lighthouse keeper was impersonated by a Rutan in Horror of Fang Rock
    
11. Mary Tamm practiced her needlepoint as the Princess Strella and her jerky-acting chops (The Androids of Tara)
12. Lalla Ward's Romana uses the Princess Astra's likeness as a template (Destiny of the Daleks)
13. The Tachyon Recreation Generator spit out a whole bunch of unstable doubles of the fourth Doctor (The Leisure Hive)
    
14. Sarah Sutton traded one sort of posh for another as Ann Talbot (Black Orchid)
    
15. Peter Davison (Omega duplicated the fifth Doctor's body in Arc of Infinity)
16. Two versions of the Brigadier from different points in time illustrate the Blinovich Limitation Effect (Mawdryn Undead)
17. Can I just say that Kamelion impersonates a bunch of people and leave it at that.
    
18. The Daleks create a variety of duplicates including dormant versions of the fifth Doctor, Tegan and Turlough, as part of machinations (Resurrection of the Daleks)
19. Sharaz Jek's duplicates of the fifth Doctor and Peri don't get to stick around long before being executed by a firing squad, and dear old Salateen's double had us all fooled (The Caves of Androzani)
    
20. The Borad created a dummy double of himself to avoid getting pasted in a very lame twist (Timelash)
21. Davros did the same thing in the next story but to much better effect (Revelation of the Daleks)
    
22. Noel Clarke plays a particularly plasticky Auton duplicate of his character Mickey Jones (Rose)
23. The Slitheen's habit of employing the skin of various full-bodied figures to create skin suit doubles (Aliens of London/World War III, Boomtown)
    
24. The ninth Doctor and Rose briefly encounter past versions of themselves (Father's Day)
25. Camille Coduri, Noel Clarke, and Shaun Dingwall all play parallel universe versions of themselves (Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel, Army of Ghosts/Doomsday)
26. Freema Agyeman empathized with her Sontaran bred clone (The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky)
27. David Tennant's Doctor grew a whole new version of himself from a severed hand (Journey's End)
28. Prisoner Zero uses unconscious humans as forms to hide from the Atraxi (The Eleventh Hour)
    

And I just don't know whether to rule on the following counts: Queen Xanxia's new holographic/corporeal body (The Pirate Planet), the Rani's ridiculous but hilarious impersonation of Mel (The Twin Dilemma), and young Amelia Pond meeting her older self (The Pandorica Opens). I'm pretty sure that Scaroth's fractured selves don't really count. And the twins in The Twin Dilemma merely doubled the bad acting quotient in that story.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go throw my cactus down the garbage chute...

Original viewing date: November 24, 1984

Spirit: A double vodka martini

Music: "Cover Me" by Bruce Springsteen

Brighton Beach Memoirs

For fans of a certain age and ilk, The Leisure Hive was a seminal viewing experience. Not so much for the story (after all it was penned by David Fisher, stalwart of the past two seasons), but for the startling changes in production and tone it brought to our favorite television series.

At 15 I watched in awe as a brand new eye-popping title sequence whizzed by on the screen as if to say, "Try and keep up, burgeoning fanboy!"

Suddenly there seemed to be a gravitas to the program. Which is odd considering the story began with an endless (pointless?) tracking shot of some beach tents capped off by a snoring Doctor. But there was a strange confidence to the scene, a slow burn to acclimatize the viewer.

Between seasons, the Doctor had apparently been visited by Tim Gunn and now donned a striking and less thrown-together outfit (complete with self-conscious question marks). Of course looking back now it was the slow steady costume-ification of the cast. But back then I loved it!

And while I wouldn't have been able to articulate it at the time, the sharp direction was definitely producing a rush. Single camera setup and ceilings! Mind you it never occurred to my adolescent mind that there was less playfulness...less fun. It's kind of how when you're a kid you don't like to be kidded because it makes you feel less grownup.

Years later, when I visited the UK I made a point of nipping down to Brighton to visit this iconic location. Sadly the old pier had long since burned down, but it didn't stop me from trying to position myself at the appropriate points on the beach. And perhaps I even fantasized that I might dig up some long forgotten screw that had dropped off the mechanical mutt. In the end I bought some fish and chips, closed my eyes and listened for ghosts.

The Leisure Hive had fallen out of vogue for me in later years; it was fashionable to mock the po-faced nature of the Bidmead year, and those shots of the earth shuttle docking went on for far too long. I'm happy to report that this week I was able to slip through time and sit down beside an excited 15-year-old acne challenged teenager for 90 minutes. There is still a majesty and confidence to the whole thing, and a real desire to stretch the boundaries of Doctor Who. Adrienne Corri is wonderfully haughty and I'm sure she and Hardin were getting it on during her jaunts to Earth (to supplement her loveless, marriage of convenience with Morix who quite obviously spent most of his time in the gay quarter of Argolis).

I can scarcely believe I've arrived at Tom Baker's final season. Time has marched by like an army of petulant Pangols! Next week it's a talking cactus and Barbara Wright with a long blond ponytail.

Original viewing date: November 24, 1984

Wine: In the spirit of the story I searched the aisles of the LCBO for something new. I found I great Australian Pinor Noir from Barwick Estates.

Music: "I'm So Excited" by the Pointer Sisters

Nobody's Weakling Scum

Confession time: when I was 15 I had the hots for Simon Gipps-Kent. Er, yes, head cheese of the weakling scum. Mr. pasty-face himself. My adolescent tastes were always a little off-beat (Meeno Peluce from Voyagers or the despised brainiac from Galactica 1980 -- no not Cousin Oliver, the other one--who actually looks great now at 42).

You see, Gipps-Kent represented that quiet boy in the back of the class that the C-crowd girls always had a crush on. Of course secretly I was one of their number (the C-crowd girls that is). He would be the sort of bloke I would fantasize about having a sleepover with where we would stay up all night and talk about geeky things and then I'd turn up the thermostat to coax him out of his pajama bottoms. Then we'd wake up early and watch Battle of the Planets over a bowl of Count Chocula.

And so I would wear out the rewind button on the Betamax to rewatch his scenes over and over again. Considering a good many of his scenes were with Lalla Ward, I didn't know whether I was coming or going. Yes, yes, being a teenager is one screwed up existence, yadda, yadda pass the Chocula.

Sadly Simon Gipps-Kent died of a morphine overdose in 1987. His last role was as Rudkin the messenger in the un-aired pilot for the original Blackadder series. Of course where I was originally a 15 year old ogling a 21 one year old who looked 15, I'm now a 42 year old who looks 35 shaking my head at a perfectly preserved ghost.

Television messes with your mind that way. Seventeenth century denizens simply didn't have to contend with this. Everyone around them sagged and got liver spots and with the possible exception of rich people having paintings of themselves that were idealized in the first place, people only had their dubious memories to rely on.

But there he is, forever stuck at 21 going on 16 for me to return to, rewatch after rewatch. My tastes have changed drastically, but it gives me some small insight into those strange middle aged women who still fawn over Davy Jones or New Kids on the Block. Somewhere between the haze of memory and the cold hard light of television lies...Simon Gipps-Kent.

********

Watching The Horns of Nimon is always a bittersweet experience. Unlike many fans I love it in all its campy, cheap goodness. Romana gets to play the Doctor-y role and she presides like queen bee over a pantomime proceedings. Her moral outrage is classic Doctor. Graham Crowden is horridly over-the-top so you do have to squint a little when watching his scenes (or put some cheesecloth over the screen).

But no, what really grabs at my heartstrings is the final appearance of the diamond logo opening and classic arrangement of the title music. Despite how campy and light the series had become, that opening still gave it gravitas and history (right back to season 11 and Jon Pertwee). Of course at 15, what was to come the following week was unbelievably exciting (more on that next time), but as the years go by I am struck by the sense of loss. After all it was that classic opening that first drew my attention to the show.

Bernard Lodge's slit-scan technique is brilliant. So much so that I was rapt watching him explain it on a recent DVD featurette. Farewell, diamond logo opening, I shall miss you. Yes, I shall miss you.

Original viewing date: November 17, 1984

Wine: Dancing Bull Zinfandel! How brilliant is that.

Music: "Infatuation" by Rod Stewart. I have fond memories of watching the video at the time with a friend, as we pissed ourselves laughing. Rod Stewart stalking Key Lenz (while overfeeding his fish), but obviously more obsessed with his own body. And that ridiculous scene of him on the merry-go-round at the end looking petulant and rejected. The past is truly an embarrassing place.

And the rest...

Nightmare of Eden is the "Professor and Mary Ann" of season 17. Sort of forgotten amongst more memorable stories of the season (the Dalek retread with the wacky regeneration; the instant classic; the omigod-is-Tom Baker-giving-that-giant-green-blob-a-blowjob?; and the completely over the top story where Doctor Who went of the rails).

Funny thing is, Nightmare of Eden has a pretty decent script. It's surprisingly adult with it's central plot point that the monster of the week is in fact a life-wreaking drug. There's some clever sci-fi regarding ships being fused a la hyperspace and a great (though too brief) performance by David Daker as Captain Rigg.

Of course it also has some dreadful performances, K-9 at his most prissy, and monsters that look like refugees from HR Pufnstuf (or the Muppet show). Lewis Flanders as Tryst is the worst offender. With his faux German-ish accent, he's just doesn't have a handle on the character. We should really be fond of him as an eccentric professor, only to have the rug pulled out from under our feet when he's revealed to be a drug smuggler. I feel nothing for his character and it could have been played with many more layers. Della is bland bland bland with aspirations to blandness.

Daker is great and I really care about his character. I feel great regret when he's doused with Vrax and goes off the rails. I love how he checks out the Doctor's story, but still discerns logically that the Time Lord duo is trying tho help.

Not much more to say really. Next week I'll be in Britain and watching new Who on BBC1! My 15 year old self would be utterly agog. And it's all set on a pirate ship. Hopefully it will be more The Smugglers than Pirates of the Caribbean.

Original viewing date: November 10, 1984

Wine: Long Neck Shiraz
Music: "They Don't Know About Us" by Tracy Ullman.

Who Rewatches the Rewatcher

After much delay, amazon.ca finally delivered Running Through Corridors by Toby Hadoke and Rob Shearman. It would be no exaggeration to say that I tore right through it, figuratively speaking. It's the most addictively pedantic thing I've ever read. Rob and Toby's recollections and associations of how particular episodes/stories/moments affected them really hits home for me. As much as the creative merits of the program are important, Doctor Who is so much about memory for me; in an almost impressionistic manner. Doing this re-watch has really reinforced that for me. No two fans will hold a particular story in quite the same esteem, and eschewing popular opinion, stories like Colony in Space and The Power of Kroll will always be remembered fondly while other more lauded stories like Snakedance and the Curse of Fenric not so much.

As I began my viewing of season 17, the story I was most looking forward to was not City of Death (which I've seen innumerable times) but The Creature From the Pit -- a story which is not fondly remembered by many. But that's the lovely, irrational joy of Doctor Who. Granted much of my anticipation is due to not having seen the story in over 15 years.

But I have fond memories of Myra Francis, Eileen Way and Geoffrey Bayldon. As well as some funny dialogue and decent film work at Ealing. Watching it was like having dinner with an old friend: it's lovely to see them again, you have some amusing banter, and you're completely aware of their flaws but dismiss them because of fondness for the past.

Erato is still painfully realized, but not because it's a big blog with a phallus, but rather because close up it looks like a couple of people wrestling in a tent. Myra Francis is still gloriously camp and haughty, and Christopher Barry direction makes the whole story much more interesting than it ought to be.

Re-watching has so much to do with what mood you're in--timing is everything. I would say there are basically 3 types of re-viewing I do:

For the Love of It
Doctor Who falls firmly under this category. My normal method it to cherry pick particular stories. I'll get a hankering for some early Davison, or a hard week will have me curling up on the couch with some wine, cheese and Pertwee. Sometimes I just need a fix of bolshie Donna Noble. Other contenders in this category include: Lost, Buffy, The Avengers and The Prisoner.

Re-evaluation
Every once in a while I'll return to a show that I gave up on. Perhaps because buzz suddenly got good, or I read an intriguing review or I just plain had a change of heart. Firefly worked like that: I watched the first episode when it aired on Fox and never really grooved to it (despite the utter shock of seeing a character get kicked into a spaceship engine). A couple of years later I was invited to a viewing party and thoroughly enjoyed it. Future candidates might include: Dexter, True Blood or God forbid Quantum Leap.

Completion of a Series
A variant on the former category, these are shows/movies that I meant to continue watching but didn't. For some reason I never watched The West Wing during its original run despite rave reviews from everyone. Several years ago I was lent the first 3 seasons of the show and became completely addicted. Unfortunately, due to circumstances, I wasn't able to continue watching it. Fast forward to March of the year and thanks to Best Buy offering each season up at $15 a pop, I decided it was time to go back. I whizzed through to season 6 (after the painful experience of season 5) and despite the absence of Aaron Sorkin I'm finding the show really engaging. Other contenders: The Mary Tyler Moore Show (over the past two years I've watched the first two seasons, because I found them for a steal, but I can't justify the regular prices) and Oz (I'll probably have to go right back to the beginning--I saw the first 3 seasons-- and I just haven't been in the right space yet).

Ritual
It's Good Friday today, and I'm also rewatching Elizabeth as I've done every year on this day. I have a fascination for Elizabeth I and let me just state for the record that I am perfectly aware of how historically inaccurate Shekhur Kapur's 1998 film is. If you want a more unerring re-telling, go and rent/buy/download the excellent 1971 BBC miniseries Elizabeth R with Glenda Jackson (note to self: saw it at HMV the other day; it's now available at an affordable $24.99). Elizabeth is lurid and violent, but also epic and transformational. If you're not a Christian, this movie takes you on the same journey (a young woman is thrust into a role she's unprepared for, there is much bloodshed and it all ends in a kind of resurrection. Other rituals: It's a Wonderful Life, Scrooge, A Midwinter's Tale, Peter's Friends, Lord of the Rings (the Christmas season); The House That Dripped Blood, An American Werewolf in London (Halloween); Groundhog's Day.

Original viewing date: November 3, 1984

Wine: The same French table wine: "Ventoux" from last week. Seemed appropriate since City of Death is the jewel of season 17 and its glow shines far.

Music: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper.

That Bouquet!

Many Doctor Who fans argue that if you show City of Death to a newbie to entice them into watching the classic series there is only one direction to go--down. While this is probably overstating the case a tad, City of Death could certain be considered the fine china you break out for company or the special restaurant you impress your in-laws with.

When I was in grade 6 our class went on a five day trip to Paris. Like so many people before me, I instantly fell in love with the city. I stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower (just like the Doctor, Romana and Duggan) gazing in awe at the city. I got lost in the Egyptian section of the Louvre. I saw Time Bandits on the Champs-Élysées. Some school mates and I walked out the wrong exit of the Galeries Lafayette department store and witnessed a street full of colourful call girls.

But most potently, I remember one warm evening, as we were being led through the streets of the city, we walked through a garden. The smell of the flowers and the dazzle of the lights made me drunk with joy. Paris indeed had a bouquet.

So in City of Death the Doctor and Romana were suddenly skipping through my own memories. Oh what bliss. And it was so clever and funny to boot. I think I may even have woken my parents up, laughing so hard when Count Scarlioni quips "My dear, nobody could be as stupid as he seems."

Honestly the entire thing is so brilliant, and Doctor Who produced it! Time cracks, and jaunts back to see Leonardo DaVinci, and John Cleese and Eleanor Bron coolly critiquing the TARDIS in an art gallery. The chemistry between Tom and Lalla. And Maya from Space: 1999 with a cigarette holder. And that sparkling dialogue: ‘...it will be so much the worse for Mister Duggan, this young lady, yourself, and several thousand other people I could mention if I happened to have the Paris telephone directory on my person.’ Douglas Adams is on fire.

And you know what? Even though when the Count is removing his human face it looks utterly naff and amateurish, the actual Jagaroth mask with the white suit looks remarkably funky and iconic.

If there is one directive I can give anyone watching this story, it's to savour it. Let time pass between viewings. When you return to it, its charms are heightened. I recall when I first got it on VHS that I kind of overdosed on it. The temptation is great. I rather wore out the rewind button on a couple of sequences.

A couple of years ago, my partner and I spent a couple of days in Paris. Let me just say that he looked at me oddly as I requested he take my picture in front of the Eiffel Tower, whereupon I turned, looked up and waved, "Bye-bye Duggan!" I suspect I wasn't the first and I certainly won't be the last. Although I don't recommend fainting in front of the Mona Lisa--they don't take too kindly to such stunts.

Original viewing date: October 27, 1984

Wine: A French table wine: "Ventoux" from the Rhône Valley.

Music: "Captain of My Heart," by Double. Okay it's a terrible song, but it was in heavy rotation at the time I watched this and there are a couple of notes at the beginning of the song that remind me of a couple of notes in Dudley Simpson's score during the final shot.