You better believe our show is going to rock ultimate!

First of all, I realise I never really have anything interesting to say, but thank you all reading chumps for humouring me through six years of being a blogger, it's been a fun way to wile away the time that I'd otherwise just be watching telly and scratching myself and stuff.

Second of all, you really must look at this picture.

Third of all, have a read of this first draft of

Danger Historian 2: Get The Fuck Out

EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - NIGHT

Two boys GORDON and DANIEL are walking through a dark countryside, it is a clear night, but there is very little light. A Twilight Zone-esque tune overlays the first moments of this scene, and fades out to GORDON waffling about Doctor Who, which shall probably be ad-libbed on shooting.

GORDON
...The fact is, Jon Pertwee really was Britain's answer to Captain Kirk. The fact that previous generations of The Doctor's first reaction was to 'run away', Pertwee's Doctor could karate chop his foes into submission with one unconvincing shwing, and was fully trained in Venutian Aikido, if the two got into a fight, who'd you reckon would win?

GORDON looks around. DANIEL has fallen behind.

GORDON
Daniel? Dude, where are you? (pauses) Daniel!

GORDON pauses for a moment before walking back in the direction he'd came. He gets out his phone and dials DANIEL'S mobile. There is no answer, and goes straight to voicemail. Continuing back along the path, picking up pace now, each shot is dynamic and camera unsteady. GORDON eventually arrives at a wall, and decides to follow it back toward street light.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

GORDON arrives back at the cottage door, DANIEL is no where to be seen. GORDON unlocks the door, has one last look around, and heads inside.

INT. COTTAGE LIVINGROOM - NIGHT

GORDON sits down in the lowly-lit livingroom, and stares into middle distance for a moment, before reaching for the home phone and giving DANIEL another call. Still no answer, but this time GORDON leaves a message.

GORDON
Hey, dude, I'm back at the house now, couldn't find you, sorry. If you need to call, I'm gonna stay up anyway, so... Where are you man?

FADE TO:

INT. COTTAGE LIVINGROOM - MORNING

GORDON wakes up suddenly in his chair, and sitting next to him is DANIEL, also sleeping where he is sat.

GORDON
Woah, Daniel! When the fuck d'you come in?

DANIEL
(Awakening suddenly, startled)
Uh, I, dunno.

GORDON
Where'd you go last night?

DANIEL
I'll tell you where...

DANIEL looks directly into the camera with an excited look in his eye. The camera zooms in as the screen FADES TO:

EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - NIGHT

The fading rants about Doctor Who alert us to the fact that we have skipped back to last night. DANIEL is falling behind rapidly as he stumbles along, to busy looking through some Magic cards he has brought along.

DANIEL
(Gleefully)
Captivating Vampire, you little priiick!

Torchlight suddenly fills DANIEL's face, blinding him for a moment.

[MYSTERIOUS FIGURE] is out of focus and in silhouette for a moment.

[MYSTERIOUS FIGURE]
You there! What are you doing here?

DANIEL
Who the hell are you?

We pull slowly into focus and the [MYSTERIOUS FIGURE] is revealed as none other than KEIR LAWSON.

KEIR LAWSON
I'm Keir Lawson, now get the fuck out of my documentary!

CUT TO:

The theme song, preferably composed by REALISTIC SUSAN & THE WEEGIE BOARDS but in any case a 70's funk style track. The title Danger Historian 2: Get The Fuck Out rolls over a series of shots of KEIR LAWSON dancing and generally posing.

CUT TO:

KEIR LAWSON standing in midshot delivering an introduction to his documentary, while DANIEL stares confused into the camera, still slightly blinded by the lights.

The following sequence will be scripted on location and improvised. The following will occur and emerge through the backdrop of the Danger Historian documentary. Basically lots of dramatic shots of DANIEL screaming 'why?!' progressively louder and with more desperation. KEIR LAWSON'S conclusion to the documentary however will be told in the style of a comforting word of advice to DANIEL as KEIR LAWSON places a hand on his shoulder.

CUT TO:

INT. COTTAGE LIVINGROOM - MORNING

GORDON wakes up suddenly, and looks to the seat where DANIEL was sitting. DANIEL is not there. DANIEL was never there. He reaches quickly to the phone and dials DANIEL'S number. No answer. GORDON turns to camera, which zooms quickly into a close up.

GORDON
Where's Daniel?

CUT TO:

EXT. ROCKY HILLSIDE - DAY

A wide shot of a hillside landscape, somewhere hidden is DANIEL, only partially visible. Across the screen flashes the words 'Where's Daniel?' as a game show spike tunes in.

FADE TO BLACK

An interlude, if you will ladies and gentlemen, as we enjoy a clip show of quality home movie moments from the holiday.

FADE TO:

EXT. ROCKY HILLSIDE - DAY

The same wideshot, flashing words and games show tune are used. A drum-roll rolls. The camera zooms in toward where DANIEL is hiding, who then emerges, answers his phone, and winks at the camera. The words 'YOU FOUND DANIEL!' flash on screen.

FADE TO CREDITS

As credits roll, preferably more dancing. Definitely more dancing.

"Like A Friendly Easter Island Statue with a Bow Tie"

I can't help but feel a little righteous (okay, quite a bit righteous) regarding Matt Smith's obvious success with establishing himself as The Doctor. The confident bounce in his delivery is impressive, a frankly seamless magic trick where there is both at once the recogniseable arrogance and urgency of his predecessors as well as a sweeping shift in tone; a New Man.

Whereas The Doctors 9 and 10 were weighted by the trauma of war, the realisation of mortality and general guilt and loneliness, this Doctor v11.0 has finally shaken off the angst and self-pity, instead running off in a feverish love affair with his own desire for adventure. Underlying all the 'woe is me'-ing of Tennant's apologies for getting everyone in such a mess was the blatant thrill of danger and uncertainty; The Doctor was a closet Indiana Jones. This Doctor, he's well up for some jeopardy! Having spent (more than) enough time settling scores and tying up loose ends with old friends, he's off to rekindle the eager fugitive-detective days of yesteryear with nary a care in the world.

That's all in the here and now though. Why were we so confident and enthusiastic for this new doctor when he was first revealed nearly a year before Tennant had even ended his tenure? Well, obviously in Steven Moffat we trusted, the newly appointed head writer and executive producer clearly had his reasons. The man clearly adores Doctor Who, and revels in timey-wimey narratives, so why would anyone doubt him? I'm not sure if this is anything new, but certainly in the past few years, a TV writer's reputation has been considerably more instrumental in a show's success, certainly in sci-fi anyway, if not since the rise and rise of American TV drama as a whole. Nevertheless, the unveiling of Matt Smith as The Doctor revealed that a large chunk of the viewing public, as always, were adverse to the idea of any bold change.

I was utterly dismayed by the number of people I personally know who (in some cases) were prepared to outright abandon the show on the basis of Matt Smith's weird-ass face. On a side note, let it be noted that in my particular sample of case-studies, these were all women who made this point - how odd, you might think, considering the general rage at the constant absence of normal (read: ugly) people in the media. Thank you very much Tennant and Barrowman (shakes fist), your pretty boy looks have led the public to assume that Doctor Who, in its Saturday night light entertainment slot is a place reserved for someone to sit back and sigh quietly and gently swoon after, when in fact...

Oh, wait... "It was this or a french maid outfit". Phwoah. Just give me a minute or two, ta.

Yeah, alright, I'm just going to have to let Matt Smith's weird face go; I'm far too happy to have Karen Gillan's redhead kissogram running about on the telebox to tackle this issue with any credibility. I mean just look at her. Sigh. Swoon.

Somewhat back on track, though keep Karen Gillan in mind, I'm coming back to her, Steven Moffat has an agenda. Firstly, the most major of changes to the show were largely directorial, with a delicately more filmic appearance and in physical design, with the exuberant and flamboyant shift to Barbarella-esque (Barbarellaean?) 60s flair, it seems this series has discovered what exactly makes Doctor Who a true gem of contemporary British design. It's the melding of the kitsch and domestic with the grand and inventive (the 3D glasses that see particles from other dimensions, the elegant and epic steampunk time machine hidden inside a phone box, the pocket watch that contains the secrets of a Timelord, a terrifying unseen entity borne from the bickering of a self-scaremongering crowd of Daily Mail types etc. ).

Hey, that last example wasn't an example of design, that was an example of scripting! Yes, yes, you're right there, Hypethetical Reader of Blog. Suck me off - stream of consciousness coming through.

I'm eager to see where Moffat's Doctor's character arc is headed; it's far too early to tell, I know. What he has made clear is his vision of Doctor Who as a fairy tale, which is an exceptional angle to elaborate upon. Certainly in the past, Moffat's stories have revolved around bump-in-the-night style creatures, and our introduction to Amelia Pond was simply spellbinding. In fact, the series opener very much introduced Pond as our chief protagonist, and the Doctor the magic and mystery at the bottom of the garden. How far this fairy tale will extend, I'm not sure yet - though that 'crack in the world' that keeps following them about, I would guess, indicates that that first story isn't entirely done with, and like any good fairy tale, it'll be our heroine's responsibility to fix it, the Doctor will only be the herald and facilitator to such an end. Well, maybe; that's my prediction anyway.

Och, I never actually mentioned Karen Gillan's Amy Pond there, just the little girl version, which isn't exactly what I'd had in mind. Cue unmotivated picture.

Finally, lets talk about Moffat's Scottish Agenda. I'm keen to see how this one plays out, and how audiences react to it. At first glance, its incredibly jarring, and not at all subtly imposed; I can imagine many an English viewer wondering why they're getting Scottish nationalism shoved down their throats. A wise move then to place episode two upon the Starship UK (side note: though its the weakest episode so far, there are some brilliant ideas in this one, just not enough time given to any one of them).

Since New Who began, the show has held a rather uncomfortable nationalistic pride of queen and country. For the most part, I can forgive them for simply trying to both mimic the quintessentially British hallmarks of the series' history (the past forty years of Doctor Who are more or less a map of British identity and sensibilities - more on Old Who another time though) as well as admirably trying to establish a personality separate from the successful template of American science fiction. Nonetheless, once Russell T. Davies got a taste for it, he just couldn't stop bumming the Queen (har har) and the pride of Britain was just all too much.

The Beast Below (another side note: I'm going to have to write another post dedicated to just how much sex is written between the lines of this new series... The Beast Below, now really...) was set upon a ship filled with 'British' people, covered in 'British' iconography, except no one on the ship are Scottish (they got their own ship). Nothing of the standard Doctor Who depiction of British life has changed, they still use the Union Jack, and there's very little reflection of Scottish identity other than Pond's accent marking her out as unusual. I'm very often told that I read too much into television, to which I reply Nonsense! and wave my arts degree in the air, to which they then humour me, because speaking at length about film and tv is about the only luxury it can afford me right now, but anyway!

I reckon these quips about the Scottish, particularly in this context are far more cynical and questioning of the series' portrayal of cultural identity in general than mere stamps of ownership from a Scottish writer. I'd love to see what effect this movement has on future episodes, whether the animosity over representation is explored, or the whole thing cooled and put to rest; on the one hand, you've got Winston Churchill portrayed as a bit of a thief, not to mention, a leader of the daleks, but on the other hand, they suggested that The Doctor got his hole with Elizabeth I.

Tough Edit

Once again, I begin with an apology to my blog; yet again, I have left far too much space between far too little content of value (though that picture of Britain was pretty kick ass).

It's not like I've not been 'blogging' at all though; I've become rather swept up in micro-blogging instead. I must admit, I've fallen in love with twitter, its scatter-shot opinion and news gathering style suits my routines and habits as I wonder haphazardly through the series of tubes.

Still, I always feel sorry for my blog; long has it been neglected. Again. I've tried, honest I have; since August, I've saved 11 uncompleted drafts:

1x Magic spoiler speculation;
1x Thoughts on the American TV renaissance;
2x Depressed moans about being a poor Film Studies graduate in a recession, threatened with credit card debt, and the embarrassing prospect of having to move back home merely six months after having been a relatively financially independent and happy student;
1x The Kepler Mission;
1x Love of Autumn;
1x Love of a comfy chair;
1x Holiday movie thoughts;
2x Being depressingly single, and thoughts on why.
2x Doctor Who

These have remained unfinished for one of two reasons. In some instances, I've given myself a slap and decided not to feel sorry for myself and rant so self-indulgently, and in others, I've just felt my rants were embarrassingly inferior to what else I was reading on the web, and that my initial point would ultimately be best explained by merely posting a collection of links to better articles. I don't know why the latter bothers me quite so much, I mean its not as if I've really bothered with quality control in my blogs before.

...And actually, on that note, I decided to delete what originally followed that sentence (further complaints, moans and self-indulgent nonsense about not writing gooder). Just get on with it Gordon. I hereby relinquish my inferiority complex, and embrace the ensuing wave of cliches, sweeping generalisations and half-baked opinions. I've watched too much Doctor Who not to say something about it; watching the old series is a bloody Film studies module in itself. And Magic: The Gathering. I mean yeescht, I have to explain that one to myself, never mind anyone else. And the Kepler mission is just incredible.

I'm less enthusiastic about Autumn though, Spring and Summer have dibs on my hopes and dreams these days.

Wrap up warm inside your tauntaun

Timey-Wimey Stuff

...and there, as I'm sure you're all aware, goes David Tennant, sauntering off from a ridiculously well-received tenure as The Doctor. What a relief as well to see Russell T. Davies actually pull off his final episode with the gravitas he deserved.

Yes, I'm choosing to largely ignore part 1; while it was all good fun (mostly because, y'know, it was Doctor Who), but it was now clearly an hour of build-up for the proper showdown. They just didn't know how to tackle Donna, a character who was very boldly given a tragic end (to experience brilliance, only to be cast into ignorance). I understand that by bringing Wilfred back, whose character's importance was so utterly justified in the finale, that Donna would have to be tackled, but she only ever stood as a burden to the rest of the script. Oh well.

Absolutely loved Timothy Dalton's Rassilon - every bit as intimidating as the character's legend from the old series deserved (Rassilon was effectively one of the first time lords, having invented Time Travel, and viciously sought immortality). The Master too, OOF, unutterably good.

Showdowns. Phwoar. First off, there's the six-shooter stand-off; very western, yes, but also kinda steampunk, which the new series of Doctor Who has always lavished itself in, and I can't get enough of it. Facing up to what are effectively two opposing races of timelords with nothing but a six-shooter, aw yeah. And for the record, I adored the insane plan of jumping out of a spaceship with the gun in hand. Yippee kay ay motherfuckers.

I did kinda bore of the goodbye montage at the end, but to a greater more indulgent extent, I lapped it up. The visit to see Rose; oh, very Buffy/ Angel romance brooding. And getting Jack his hole - priceless.

How would the death of Doctor No. 10 have looked if he didn't hang about for a lengthy goodbye though? Well, the moment we hear Wilfred tapping away on the door, it was inevitable his death was going to be damned emotional. "Waiting for me all this time", he scolds Wildred. Exactly what this incarnation of the Doctor has been searching for from the beginning. I reckon I'd have been very happy if The Doctor had died in that little glass box, regenerated from that indignant crippled pile. But then that would be dark as fuck, and pretty harsh. Nah, I was happy with the path they took, despite it sometimes collapsing with the weight of duty (they really needn't have bothered visiting Sarah Jane, Martha, and Donna (again), but I see why they did). Crawling from his meeting with Rose back into the Tardis was lavishly indulgent poetry.

"I don't want to go". Famous last words, and they finally tie up Davies' 'Lonely God' arc to a triumphant close. And now for Matt Smith; I can't fucking wait!