I’m not a particularly avid reader of Young Adult (YA) fiction, so felt a little out of my depth going into Tom Pollock’s debut novel. I had no idea whether to expect a piece of fantasy for early-teens, or something harder and grittier more suited to older readers (so broad and poorly defined is the concept, in my mind). To settle any doubt, I can confirm this belongs to the second camp.
The story primarily follows Beth, a random teenage girl, as she discovers a fantastical version of London (in a “city-within-the-city” sort of thing) and it’s street-urchin prince Filius Viae. She is dragged into a secret war against unassailable foes, a war between parts of the city itself.
Firstly, this is a really entertaining and enjoyable story. It’s very fast paced, brimming with imagination, and the characterisation is excellent. I defy you not to care for the major players as if they were real people by the end. I was unable to put this book down, and consumed it in a matter of days.
Secondly, it doesn’t take any prisoners. The story is brutal, at times harrowing, and when I use the words “fantasy” and “young adult” to describe it don’t expect the fight scenes to be sanitised and fluffy. I’ve already said that I’m no afficienado of YA fiction, but reading it I was impressed that it doesn’t patronise the reader. As a grown up (well…debatable…) I found it as thrilling as I expect its target audience will, and the conclusion didn’t cop out- honestly, I think the climax and resolution was my favourite part.
The “first book of the series” addendum on the front gave me a moment’s pause. Series are all well and good, but the prospect of having to read endless volumes (not to mention waiting for them) to get any sort of closure on the story can be a bit of a mood-killer (*cough* I’m looking at you George R.R. Martin). Thankfully, The City’s Son doesn’t fall into that camp. The novel could stand on its own, leaving the prospect of a sequel as a promise of delight to come, not a chore.
I did have some issues with the way in which it was written. At the beginning, the pace takes a while to build up, which makes the perspective flitting a little disorientating. Filius’ parts are written in first person, which is a good touch, but the fact that all the other characters’ storylines are in third person means it takes a few paragraphs to figure out whose shoes you’re in after a chapter break.
As I got deeper into the story, and the pace ratcheted up, I felt that problem went away, but to the reader starting out it might be something of a roadblock. I would recommend you push past it, though. It’s very definitely worth it.
In his acknowledgements, Pollock credits his influences, but they are very clearly worn. There is the distinctive mark of Neil Gaiman on Pollock’s imagination, and I had strong flavours of China Meiville’s fantastical love affair with London. This is absolutely not a criticism- Pollock has made this novel his own- but a clear indicator that if you like either of those two genre giants, you’re more than likely to enjoy this.
In the end, The City’s Son isn’t a flawless novel. It has its problems, its drawbacks, and the occasional jutting nail that snags the flow of the reading experience. But it is fun. Fast, slick, weird, crazy fun. And really I think that’s more important, don’t you?
I went into this book knowing very little about it. Really the only thing I had to go on was the rather lacklustre Pirates of the Caribbean film based on it, which is hardly the best endorsement.
But I found myself very pleasantly surprised with the result. The actual similarity between the book and the film is limited to the name, the fountain of youth, and the involvement of Blackbeard. If the film had been more like the book, then it might not have been the disappointment it turned out to be.
So why did I like “On Stranger Tides” so much? Well, the first thing it has going for it is excellent characters. The pirate genre lends itself to colourful, imaginative and exciting casts, and Powers doesn’t disappoint. Main character Jack Shandy is the classic character who never really wanted to be a pirate, but found an outlaw life thrust upon him, whilst Blackbeard manages to be engagingly bad, but more than simply a cardboard-cut-out comic villain. Add to the mix a host of brash but morally-questionable buccaneers and you couldn’t really want for better pirate fare.
One thing that I was a little less passionate about was the ending. Throughout, Powers keeps the story fast paced and exciting, with the action running right up to the end. Which is great, but it makes the ending feel rather abrupt. To go from full-throttle to over zap quickly killed the mood a little, but I couldn’t say what I would have changed and it didn’t damage the reading experience too much.
Overall I would definitely recommend this book. I was somewhat sceptical at first, believing that pirate stories were something of a genre cul-de-sac, but Powers’ excellent writing and brilliant story converted me very quickly.
I’ve been racking my brains, but for the life of me I can’t think of any TV series or film that Joss Whedon has made that wasn’t brilliant. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer film doesn’t count, since he was so ignored in the making of it and so dissatisfied with the end result that he went on to make the TV show. So with that sort of track record, I went into The Cabin in the Woods this afternoon feeling a little nervous.
Understand, I went into the cinema knowing only two things: that it was produced by Whedon, and that it was a horror film. Which wasn’t really a lot. I’ve since looked up the trailer, and seen after the film it does an incredible job of walking the tightrope between making the film look interesting and not revealing the twists that make it excellent.
Because it is excellent.
It operates on two levels. The first is the classic horror film: college students spending a weekend at a remote cabin in the woods, where they are set upon by various nasties. It has all the tropes of horror, even down to the roles of the characters: the dumb girl; the alpha male; the brainy good guy; the innocent good girl; and the drugged out waster.
But the second level is where it’s at: the reasoning behind everything that’s happening. It adds a witty, sardonic sense of humour and a satirical edge. It pushes the boundaries and makes old ground new again, taking old ideas and making them new in a simple yet ingenious way that most films would never think of.
The cast is well picked, with the hapless victims perfectly attuned to their roles, from Chris Hemsworth’s classic jock, to a fantastically funny Franz Kranz (having lost none of his goofy charm from Whedon’s Dollhouse series) as the stoner. In fact, Whedon keeps to a bit of a theme, with Dollhouse‘s Amy Acker featuring as a supporting character, and Tom Lenk (Buffy‘s Andrew Wells) with a bit part.
But this is more than just a fan piece (though it will certainly delight Whedon’s devotees). There’s some great storytelling here, and in the subtext a lot of very skilful genre deconstruction. It will appeal to the casual horror fan, and give plenty for us genre anoraks to think on afterwards.
I think some viewers might not be enamoured with the ending, but for me it was perfect. As the climax drew close I was wondering how they would avoid writing (telling?) themselves into a corner, and it was a delight to see a conclusion without an unfulfilling deus ex machina.
On the whole, I would heartily recommend this to everyone. Going in with no preconceptions, I came out thoroughly entertained and having had a thoroughly enjoyable hour and a half. Go, see it. I wouldn’t usually say anything like this, but it’s probably the best horror film you’ll see all year.
I love a good ghost story. There’s something about it that speaks to the primeval, the child in me hiding beneath the covers, shaking with fear and excitement. They don’t have a terribly good press- they are, often not unfairly, labelled cheesy, cliche and overdone- but when they’re done right there are few things better.
And The Awakening is one of the best ghost films I’ve seen in a long, long while. It certainly blows Hammer’s disappointing The Woman in Black straight out of the water- though some might think the lack of Daniel Radcliffe on the cast list gives it an unfair advantage.
But first thing’s first: my declaration of interests. I know Mr Stephen Volk, the writer (well, over Facebook and the like, at least). I’m a fan of his previous work (Afterlife and the excellent Ghostwatch), and of his columns in horror fiction mag Black Static. I’ve also been wanting to see this film since its cinema release, but due to the ineptitude of Odeon Cinemas had to wait until the DVD release.
Now that’s done, onto the review. The Awakening follows ghost-hunter and -debunker Florence Cathcart (Rebecca Hall), who comes to Rookwood boarding school on the request of teacher Robert Mallory (Dominic West, of The Wire fame, looking like he was carved right out of a block of manliness). There she sets about debunking the “ghost” that has been blamed for the death of a student, just in time for the kiddies to go home for the holidays. Which is when the real creepy goings on start.
The “debunking” story is a fairly uncommon, but nonetheless established, model of horror story- and one I have a lot of time for. It invariably comes down to a character analysis of the debunker. In this case, Florence’s motivations and history take centre stage of the entire film, but they do so almost subtly- so you don’t even notice until it’s already happening.
I won’t give the plot ending away (because it is rather special), but as befits the story type you know it will go either one way or the other. Either the occurrences will be supernatural, or they won’t. In that way, it’s a lot like watching a coin spin on a table. It’ll either finish heads up or tails up, and you just have to wait and see. But The Awakening is a lot more entertaining to watch.
And that is largely down to the atmosphere. This is something that is integral to horror films, but which so many seem to get wrong. They either don’t spend enough time getting the audience into the right frame of mind, or they do and then ruin it (see the Paranormal Activity films). Here, though, there is a constant air of subtle creepiness, rendered all the more creepy for being uncertain of whether it is malevolent or harmless. Through the setting, the music and the acting, I found myself on the edge all the way through.
So there you have it. Very highly recommended, particularly if you like horror to reach you through more than simply loud noises and “jumpy” moments. Best served chilled, in a dark room, on a big screen, and with the volume up a little too high. And probably not alone.
It seldom seems that a horror novel, a proper horror novel, gets any real mainstream attention. The inclusion of A Cold Season on the Richard and Judy Book Club list made me wonder a little. But Alison Littlewood’s writing has featured frequently in Black Static, and I know that she’s a gifted writer.
A Cold Season is merely confirmation of this.
The plot surrounds Cass and her son Ben, who move to the remote Yorkshire village where she grew up after the death of her husband in Afghanistan. The plan is to make a fresh start, but it all starts to shift away from Cass when snow seals off the village, and the strangeness of the locals starts to infect Ben.
This is a classic outsider horror. From the beginning it maintains a subtly creepy atmosphere of isolation, of not being part of the group, with the history, the geography and the community of Darnshaw blending into a single entity. There’s a subtle wrongness from the very start in all of the residents, which sets the reader on edge throughout.
And that’s what won it for me. From the start, I couldn’t tell you where the story was going. There was a growing sense of tension as the snow set in and as Cass became increasingly alone, but there was no real indication of where it was going. As it happened, the climax came out of left field, taking me by surprise but still fitting the story.
On a purely selfish note, I’m very glad that this novel was so good. With the wide attention it’s received, especially the aforementioned Richard and Judy Book Club, I’m hopeful that it will give the new wave of British horror exposure to a more mainstream audience. This can only be good for encouraging more publishers to embrace the genre.
Because Littlewood’s début novel is pure horror. It splits open the darkness inside the everyday, and examines it for our entertainment. At its core is parental relationships: Cass’ fears of losing Ben to whatever darkness is at the heart of Darnshaw; the broken and confused shards of her relationship with her father; and the ongoing hurt and confusion of a little boy whose daddy isn’t coming home again.
A Cold Season featuring no vampires, no werewolves, and no fairies. A Cold Season is a creeping, chilling, lingering horror story. And it’s rather excellent.
Enter The Troll Hunter, a Norwegian found-footage fantasy/horror film which seems to have been getting quite a bit of attention since it’s DVD release. I decided to see what the fuss was about, and sat down with it yesterday evening.
Firstly, whenever I sit down to watch a found-footage style film, my first thought is one of trepidation: “Oh God, not another one.” This is a somewhat unreasonable reaction on my part, as there are definitely good ones out there. It would be stretching it to say that for every Paranormal Activity that’s pumped out there’s a The Last Exorcism, but it’s certainly possible to do a very good film like this. The problem, I think, is the more recent deluge of sub-standard offerings (thank you very much The Blair Witch Project).
Gratifying, The Troll Hunter belongs to the “good” camp.
The film sets a group of college students and wannabe documentary film-makers in Norway, following a man who they initially believe is a poacher, but soon discover is a government-paid troll hunter. Yes, it sounds sort of mad (and it is), and conjures hilarious images of conservative politicians railing against taxpayers money wasted on trolls, but I promise you it works.
The students follow the hunter, who is obviously somewhat apathetic about his job, and film him hunting and killing a variety of breeds of troll. The thrust of the plot is that the trolls are acting out of character, but really it works as a fantastical wildlife documentary.
The main coup The Troll Hunter manages is the believability. The idea of trolls running around the Norwegian countryside and the government keeping it a secret is, on the face of it, stretching credibility. But they manage it, with much careful attention.
The characters have the feel of enthusiastic students, somewhat naive yet delighted to have stumbled on something so big. The production values are realistically low throughout, but without the nauseating camera-swinging of The Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield, and with night-time scenes that don’t turn into the disorientating flicker-fest of The Descent. Added to this the subtle use of visual effects for the trolls, and you’re onto a winner.
The ending is a little on the confused side, but I think that’s always likely to be a problem with found-footage. You know, deep down, that it won’t end well for the protagonists, so it’s a matter of working up to that ending, but it gets a bit rushed and hectic.
Still, all in all it’s a good film. It kept me watching, and it goes without saying that the Norwegian countryside is beautiful. It isn’t going to change the world, but it’s a very good watch, and if the big film studios are going to keep making found-footage films (and I think we all know they are…) then they should watch The Troll Hunter very carefully and take note.
It was in a conversation with Jennifer Williams herself where I discussed the nature of reviewing; that reviews of books that most people give are by nature likely to be positive, as if a book is bad most people would put it down and not finish it. So in the first sentence, I’ve already made two things clear: that I know the author, and that I liked this book.
Quest fantasy and I haven’t historically had the best relationship. For a long while I regarded it as stagnant, boring and unoriginal. I think it might have been the elves. It probably didn’t have too good an opinion of me either, but since I’m a badass I never really cared. Two things have conspired to change that opinion: HBO’s TV adaptation of Game of Thrones, and Bethesda’s life-consuming open-world fantasy game Skyrim.
But to the book. The Copper Promise: Ghosts of the Citidel, follows a motley crew of adventurers entering the titular citadel for various reasons of their own. The crippled Lord Frith is searching for the key to regaining his castle, whilst mercenaries Sebastian (the Ynnsmouth Knight) and Wydrin (the Copper Cat) hunt for gold and riches. The synopsis seems pretty standard for quest fantasy, but the hero (if there is one in particular) isn’t a farm boy, and there doesn’t seem to be an evil emperor in sight.
Where it comes of its own is quite obvious and simple; it’s rather brilliantly written. The characters in particular shine, and all of them feel like real people. I think Wydrin is my favourite; rather than being a wilting princess or Amazonian wall of muscle, she’s an actual person. This is what fantasy so often misses out on, and characters become subservient to the plot. Rather, the plot should be driven onwards by the characters, by their personality and motivations. Williams clearly gets this.
Another endearing factor is that it’s a novella. So it’s short. In a genre world that seems dominated by sprawling epic tomes, a little brevity is like a cool breeze on a summer’s day. There are fewer words devoted to info-dumping, and more to in-story exposition. I finished this book in about a day, primarily because I couldn’t put it down. It was engaging, exciting, and left me looking very much forward to the next installment.
If you got a Kindle for Christmas (you lucky thing!) then I would heartily recommend you give The Copper Promise: Ghosts of the Citadel a read.
I’ll be honest, I approached this with some trepidation. The original film The Thing is a classic of sci-fi and horror, one of those films I watched as I began my awakening to the genre, and loved every moment of. Coupled with my general distrust of remakes, I wasn’t at all convinced that this would be a sound investment of my time.
Surprisingly, then, I can report I rather enjoyed it. It managed to capture some of the feeling of the original, but add to it with more modern touches. The film is actually a prequel rather than a remake, which begs the infuriated question, why does it have the same name as the original? I don’t have the answer to that, but the film itself does fit perfectly into the original which is rather gratifying in itself.
But that it works as essentially fan fiction to the original should not at all be the gauge of its success or failure. It must stand as a film in its own right- which it does rather well. The CGI rendering of the titular Thing gives it a rather different flavour, swapping the 80s gore effects which Carpenter was so fond of for a more Dead Space appeal. Indeed, the Thing more resembles the necromorphs from those video games than I remember previously.
The story itself was sound, but then it was half-written by the film it was expanding upon. A team of Norwegian scientists in the Antarctic discover a crashed alien spaceship along with an alien frozen in a block of ice, and remove the latter for examination. Except it’s not quite dead, and the alien cells can imitate human cells, and you can probably see where this is going.
The pacing goes for a little less claustrophobic paranoia, and a little more big budget action, but I think that’s more a sign of the times than anything- and aside from there being no real explanation as to why there is such an abundance of flamethrowers at Antarctic bases, it doesn’t stray to far from the believability of the premise.
One interesting note is that it does seem to be staffed by lookalikes. The female lead, at certain angles, bears rather a resemblance to Firefly and Stargate Atlantis actress Jewel Staite (but isn’t). The can’t-speak-English Norwegian heavyman looks sort of like Liam Neeson gone native (but, unsurprisingly, isn’t). And the English radio operator looks the spit of Tim Roth (but isn’t). None of which has any bearing on anything really, but I thought it was interesting…
In the end, though, as much as I enjoyed the film I’m left wondering why it was made as a prequel to 1982′s The Thing. Yes, it fitted perfectly with it, but that’s because it was made to. It didn’t have to be. It had flavours and inspirations from a variety of other sources, including as I’ve already mentioned the Dead Space video game series, and the first Alien vs Predator film. I’m a little disappointed that it wasn’t pushed as an inspired-by-but-unrelated film, injected with a bit of originality and allowed to go its own way a bit more.
Even straight-jacketed to someone else’s film I enjoyed it, but I do think I would have enjoyed it even more if it was its own film. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who is getting sick of remakes, prequels and the like.
“Rising star” is a phrase which I seem to use all too often, but when I say it in relation to Gareth L. Powell it seems entirely appropriate. Here is a man who I started reading in genre magazines of great repute, such as Interzone, a few years back. His short stories demonstrated a profound understanding of science-fiction’s place in the world. His debut novel Silversandswas excellent, and the follow-up was sensational.
The Recollection is Powell’s take on the space opera, and the scale of the story really should not be underestimated. Spanning the galaxy, and hundreds of years, it follows characters on various convergent plot threads, weaved into a beautifully complete story.
The story starts with the appearance out of nowhere of arches across Earth. When his brother is gobbled up by one, Ed Rico sets out, with his brother’s wife Alice, to follow and find the missing man. Meanwhile (or not, exactly) space captain Katherine Abdulov seeks redemption with her family and revenge upon a former lover, in a race across the galaxy into the arms of danger.
It’s a wondrously complex patchwork, with a great attention to detail and to the sub-genre’s rich history. To those who are widely read within it, the wealth of little nods here and there will stand out like little gemstones. For those without such experience, the attention to detail will do the same.
Particularly notable is Powell’s grasp of the consequences of relativity. Space travel across the cosmos is possible in the world of The Recollection, but a journey which is instantaneous from the the perspective of the traveller takes objectively as long as the same journey would at the speed of light. It not only throws up fascinating problems of timelines out of synch, but manages to knit the plot together across centuries.
The beauty here is that Powell has a good grasp of both the technical and the artistic side. I’m loathe to call this “hard” sci-fi, because it lacks the dryness which frequently marrs that genre. But it feels accurate, with a realistic atmosphere and entirely believable characters.
One thing that moved me in particular: the acknowledgement page makes a point of thanking the late Colin Harvey, whose death shortly before the novel’s launch was truly tragic. Given the credit which Powell himself has given to Harvey for his role in The Recollection‘s existence, I think it’s safe to say that Harvey would be proud of the finished product.
The Recollection is a thought provoking work, brimming with imagination. It has the vital undercurrent of “what if?” that is the lifebood of good science-fiction. And what if there was more sci-fi like The Recollection? Then the world could only be a better, more exciting place.
Since my review of Doctor Who series 5 is still seemingly so popular over a year on, and since the sixth series of the time-travelling sci-fi institution is over, I’ve decided that I’ll stage another review of the whole series. And, without resorting to any River Song jokes, this review will contain spoilers.
To recap where we are as of the end of series 5, the Doctor (along with Amy, Rory and River) has saved the universe from destruction at the hands of an exploding TARDIS, but still doesn’t know what caused it to explode in the first place. Rory and Amy have gotten married, before whizzing off with the Doctor for more adventures (including their honeymoon, as depicted in A Christmas Carol, the 2010 Christmas special). We also know that River Song is married, and is in prison for killing “the best man I’ve ever known”.
Now, come along reader. We have a series to review! Geronimo!
(Sorry)
The Impossible Astronaut
The Doctor is back with a bang. Literally. After seeing an older Doctor die at the hands of a mysterious astronaut on the shores of Lake Silencio, Amy, Rory and River join their Doctor on a trip to 1969, following a series of cryptic clues. This was a good opener, with a particularly powerful opening gambit. Killing off main characters in the opening episode isn’t an unusual move, but killing off the main character is new. The joke about Americans and guns made me giggled (again, sorry) and showed that the usual DW wit is alive and well. One of the particular highlights of this episodes is a Richard Nixon which puts the play-dough version in Watchmen to shame.
The Day of the Moon
Following directly on from The Impossible Astronaut, this episode sees the Doctor and his usual companions- joined by Canton Everett Delaware III, who eagle-eyed sci-fiers will recognise as Romo Lampkin of BSG fame- waging a revolution against the mysterious Silence. The Silence are a fantastic idea, creepy figures standing in the background of forever unable to be remembered. They’re up there with the Weeping Angels in the downright creepy stakes. This was another brilliant episode, opening the season with a cracking two part story. And the regenerating girl at the end was a superb touch.
The Curse of the Black Spot
From the brilliant, to the not so brilliant. There wasn’t anything exactly wrong with this episode, but coming after the The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon two-parter, it feels very flat. The pirate romp idea has been shoehorned into a Doctor Who story, and one expects that it’s only in order to show Karen Gillian in a pirate outfit. And not enough was made of Lily Cole, whose perfectly spherical head made her excellently suited to being a much more alien monster than she played. Probably the only real filler episode of the series.
The Doctor’s Wife
Having said that The Curse of the Black Spot was the only filler episode, I do feel that if this episode wasn’t magnificently good, it would dispute that title. Written by the brilliant Neil Gaiman, it adds nothing to the overall story arc, but really is so good. The Doctor follows a Time Lord distress call to a TARDIS-eating asteroid creature, where the TARDIS enters a human body. Cue endless witty exchanges!
The Rebel Flesh
The Doctor, Amy and Rory land smack bang in the middle of a showdown on an island between a group of acid miners and their “flesh” duplicates, formerly merely tools, now sentient. This is classic DW fare, with the Doctor desperately trying to keep two peoples from going to war. See last season’s Silurian two-parter. It’s good enough, but doesn’t really come into its own until the second part.
The Almost People
And here we are. With a flesh duplicate of the Doctor running around too, things were always going to be more fun. Everything goes to hell in a handbasket when one of the Flesh duplicates goes a little monstery. Lots of running around and shouting, until at the end Amy goes into labour, and is revealed to be a Flesh duplicate herself. This was a cliffhanger and a half. Moffatt knows how to keep an audience watching, and this is it.
A Good Man Goes to War
Back to the main storyline we go. The Doctor and Rory gather an army to rescue Amy (plus her daughter). This was an episode that should have been great, and that knew it should have been great. The problem was that it overreached a bit. The Doctor winning the battle without any bloodshed was a good touch, but when it went wrong (as we knew it would) it just felt a bit too…obvious, for the Doctor to fall for. The reveal of River Song’s identity (She’s Amy and Rory’s baby. Also, part Time Lord. Don’t ask) was made entirely too obvious, but the performances of Matt Smith and Alex Kingston in the last few minutes save it.
Let’s Kill Hitler
It’s not filler, but it’s not good. The addition of Hitler was wholly unnecessary (he spends all but the first five minutes of the episode in the bloody cupboard), and frankly was probably only for the jaw dropping title at the end of A Good Man Goes to War. The whole point of the episode was to show Melody Pond “becoming” River Song, via a shapeshifting robot (the teselecta) crewed by mini-people. Which seemed unrealistic and entirely too sudden. And so the Doctor would know the date of his death. All of which could have been achieved without Hitler. My least favourite episode of the series.
Night Terrors
The Doctor helps a frightened child, and ends up trapped in a dolls’ house filled with very creepy dolls. This feels very close to the Tennant/Ecclestone episodes that RTD used to write. Not in a bad way. It’s creepy, and endearing, and explores the Doctor’s character surprisingly well.
The Girl Who Waited
The best episode of the series. Really, truly, fantastically made. The Doctor and Rory try to rescue Amy from a different “time stream” which is moving faster, and end up finding a bitter, angry Amy who has been waiting for them for decades. More Doctor characterisation, but this time vicariously, through his effects on other people. RTD tried for this a number of times, most notably in the series 4 finale, but never managed it as effectively as The Girl Who Waited.
God Complex
Another very good examination of the Doctor’s character through his relationship with others. The gang become trapped with a bunch of other randomers in a hotel, in which there is a room somewhere containing each person’s greatest fear. It’s a nice use of the Room 101 idea, and a particularly nice twist at the end which sees the Doctor have to break Amy’s faith in him. The ending, with Rory and Amy leaving the TARDIS, came straight out of left field, though it’s a bit dampened by knowing that they will certainly be back in the series finale. The question you’re left wanting answers for, though, is what was in the Doctor’s room?
Closing Time
James Corden and Cybermen. Oh joy. One is the silver enemy of the Doctor who I have never found scary (sorry, I know that’s heresy, but it’s true). The other is a man I very much want to dislike, but keep catch myself giggling at. It wasn’t a bad episode, even despite my prejudices. And actually, placing it 200 years on for the Doctor, and just before the events at the beginning of The Impossible Astronaut, was a good touch. The best part was at the end, when the Doctor is finally ready to go to Lake Silencio.
The Wedding of River Song
This is an episode which has divided opinion, but which I loved. The Doctor searches for the reason that he has to die (he will answer the first question), before going to Lake Silencio. There, a younger River in the astronaut suit fails to kill him, causing time to “all happen at once”. This episode has some lovely scenes, including Emperor Winston Churchill, and a steam train into an Egyptian pyramid. The Doctor convinces River that she has to kill him, in order to save the universe (for a change) and she does.
Except she doesn’t. Face it, we all knew that the Doctor would survive. He always does- that’s half the fun of it! The use of the teselecta was something a lot of people guessed, but I admittedly didn’t.
The resounding theme of this series was the Doctor, facing who he is and his own demise. It did that very well, particularly with the Doctor’s realisation in A Good Man Goes to War of the effect his fame was having on the universe. The end of The Wedding of River Song has the Doctor very much alive, but with only a handful of people aware of that fact (and the fixed point in time thing does make sense, it’s all a matter of perspective). It’s an excellent lead into the seventh series, which will be the 50th anniversary of the show.
As for the future? I think we had a fairly large hint from Dorium Maldovar (who still looks like the fat Zahn from Farscape episode John Quixote) with that business about the fall of the Eleventh, on the fields of Trenzalore. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the big hurrah Moffat has planned for the anniversary.
River Song’s story, too, isn’t as finished as everyone else seems to think it is. In Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, River knows the Doctor’s name. But he hasn’t told her yet (when he said he had told her his name, he’d told her to look into his eye). I think we’ve more to see of Alex Kingston.
Finally, in the break between A Good Man Goes to War and Let’s Kill Hitler (whoever came up with that break idea really does deserve something painful to happen to them) a teaser trailer was released. It showed a skeleton, holding a dying sonic screwdriver. I don’t think it was a teaser trailer for Let’s Kill Hitler. I think Moffat is playing the long game with us.
