Andrew Zalotocky writes:
What did you think of “The Christmas Invasion”? It didn’t seem overtly political, which makes me wonder why the BBC web site had that story promoting it as such beforehand. I can think of three plausible explanations:
1) The “peace message” story was a heavy-handed attempt to ensure that the audience got the right message
2) It was the loose cannons at BBC Online giving it their own special spin
3) It was a deliberate attempt to generate publicity through controversy
If it was option 3, we have to ask:
a) Does that mean that critics of the BBC were taken in by a PR scam?
b) If so, was it specifically targeted at them?
c) If so, was it also an attempt to undermine their credibility by getting them fulminating at a programme that would turn out to be innocuous?
I’d be interested to hear your take on this.
So far I have only seen twenty minutes of it. A younger member of the household who had not enjoyed “The Empty Child” expressed a definite desire not to see it and not to be alone while not seeing it. Never let it be said that only having seen a third of an episode of Dr Who is enough to stop me talking about it, though. Based on my knowledge of the individuals and organisations concerned my provisional answers to your questions are (1) yes, (2) yes, (3) yes, (a) yes, (b) no, (c) no.
I’d guess that Andrew Rilestone would not usually be politically sympathetic to this blog, but given that I agree with nearly everything he writes about Narnia, I’m willing to trust him when he writes about Dr Who.
Many of the 45 minute episodes have felt rushed: at 60 minutes, “The Christmas Invasion” felt developed and well-balanced. The story made a great deal of sense, although it suffered from a few examples of R.T.Ds trademarked lazy plotting — there seemed to be no story-internal reason for the killer Santa’s or killer Christmas tree — they were in the story simply because they seemed like a good idea at the time. (The idea that the Doctor is literally revived by a cup of tea was amusing, but had no rational justification.) The papers, bless them, fixated on the idea that the story had a strong anti-war message, but compared with the in-your-face satire of “World War III” last year, it was almost imperceptible.
The papers had some reason for their fixation: Russell Davies’s own words. (And I was told that an issue of Radio Times a month or so back had David Tennant saying something about how he was a socialist because of King Lear, possibly quoting Shaw. Anyone got a copy?) So media folk are pinkoes. Important bulletin about sylvanian ursine habits follows. It doesn’t stop (although it may distract) them from producing good TV. The actors and scriptwriters, I mean; let’s leave the poor bears some privacy.
In the first few seconds of his reincarnation at the end of last season I was embarrassed by Tennant’s goofiness. Him working his jaw and mumbling about his teeth looked less like a Time Lord than like an old geezer unhappy with his dentures. Rilestone argues that Tennant’s childish moments are of a piece with the jelly babies, a foil to his moments of omnicompetent world saving skill, and represent a return to the True Path of Who, cleverly placed after Ecclestone’s “off-the-wall re-invention” had blown away the cobwebs.
My two longest previous Who screeds are here, and here. Click the (0)’s to read the comments. Yes, I know. Complain to Haloscan, not me.