So, this week we got Entangled - or maybe Doug Naylor did? I'm wondering if the episode was called this because it's what the writer scribbled at the top of his rough draft in frustration.
This was an episode that felt misplaced in the run by about seven series. It was also an episode that featured some really strong material and ideas but either needed a second part or more tidying up at the scripting stage.
There was a lot I really liked about it: it had some great ideas, some great gags, and (possibly since I work in that kind of environment) I thought the aspect of Health & Safety paperwork and audit trails was wonderful. But the BEGGs bits were rushed and there was no proper lead up to the Cat and his space weevil or Kryten and his crystals - and this left me completely wrong-footed when they started to do their (exceptionally well-played) synchronicity act. You could tune in at the start of this episode and think 'damn, I need to watch last week's first to get what's going on' - which of course wouldn't really help you at all.
What I liked about this episode, and what I liked about the early series, was that each of the crew is doing their own thing. It's a big ship, after all, so they wouldn't be under each other's feet all the time. Lister is being irresponsible, drinking and having a massive kebab in the (tiny!) drive room, Rimmer is being officious as only he can, Cat is hunting like a cat (it's good to be reminded that he is actually a cat now and again) and Kryten is getting on with what he has to do. The episode wouldn't work so well if any one of them wasn't there. Then they all come together for the important scenes.
But there's actually too much going on this week - or possibly too much going on off screen. Having tried it several times in the last few series I don't see why they didn't boost this one out to a two-parter. Then we could have had a proper introduction to where the weevil and crystals came from, we could have seen Lister meet the BEGGS and at least start the poker game (without spoiling the later gags), we could have had an amusing lead into Rimmer's anorak-wearing, wibbling breakdown on the BEGG moon and more could have been done on the ERRA space station (what a fabulous comedy concept that was). As it was it all felt too rushed, with too much trying to be crammed in to one half hour. This means the episode becomes off-balanced by some of the longer (and funnier) scenes such as Rimmer and Lister discussing H&S and the death of the rest of the original crew towards the beginning. You couldn't lose any of the individual plot-strands without compromising the conclusion, so I can't help but feel Doug Naylor wrote himself into a bit of a hole here.
Professor Edgington, with her glasses on upside down. Bless! Sydney Stevenson played her exceptionally well for what amounted to a potentially hammy cameo, but boy would the character have become annoying if she'd stayed. She'd already pushed her luck with my patience by the end of this episode, but she made up for it with a wonderful clumsy death through the airlock - perfect!
The BEGGs scene was set (possibly as a deliberate nod) just like the GELF scene in the episode Emohawk - Polymorph 2 (Series VI), including a return for actor Steven Wickham who'd played Lister's GELF bride. So far Series X of Red Dwarf has had an expensive, glossy look and feel to it, with excellent production values all round. Why, then, did the BEGGs have alien monster costumes that would have been derided in Doctor Who forty years ago? This was a real disappointment - but they could have got away with it if they'd drawn attention to it as a feature of them being genetically engineered! There was a ready-made get out clause for them and they didn't take it - or maybe the production team thought they looked great and not like £15 Planet of The Apes party costumes.
I also have to ask how Lister managed to communicate with them effectively during the previous poker game without Kryten to translate. The universal language of alcohol maybe? But I shouldn't be searching for my own answers! Sloppy...
This could easily have been the best episode of the series so far, or the best two episodes. It's a real shame that it wasn't either.
Saturday 27 October 2012
Sunday 21 October 2012
Round The Hornung: Raffles - The Amateur Cracksman
Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman, by E.W. Hornung.
Penguin Classics edition, 2003, edited with an introduction by Richard Lancelyn Green.
First published 1899.
Richard Lancelyn Green walks a familiar (or easy) path in his introduction to this edition, drawing attention to the oft-cited connection between E.W. Hornung and Arthur Conan Doyle (Hornung married Doyle's sister and Doyle 'possibly' encouraged Hornung to write these stories even though the pair may not have got on that well). This immediately drags the reader into the comparison of these short stories with the Sherlock Holmes short stories. I fear this does Conan Doyle no favours and probably brings more readers to Raffles than it deserves.
Raffles is 'the' amateur cracksman - a gentleman burglar. Holmes is 'the' amateur sleuth. Both have tales and exploits told by their close companions. But Raffles isn't an anti-Holmes; we all know who that is and Raffles is no Moriarty. Holmes is an attractive character to most readers; you don't necessarily love him but you tend to tolerate his enigmatic eccentricities and admire his skill. Similarly Watson is a very sympathetic character in most instances and it is difficult not to like him; indeed our fondness for Holmes is Watson's fondness for Holmes to all intents and purposes.
Raffles has no such eccentricities or quirks as Holmes; there is little to find to like or despise about him (to a 21st Century reader, at least), and little in the way of hints about what he does when he's not out on his occasional expeditions. Apparently he plays a lot of cricket, but there's not an awful lot of cricket played in these stories. Then there's Bunny. Poor Bunny. He's our Watson - except he's not, because again we have no reason to like him or hate him and he gives us no particular reason to like Raffles either as he regales us with their exploits. That sums up my views rather well actually: pure apathy.
What these stories need is a considerate editor who will draw the unavoidable comparison with Conan Doyle and then scream at the reader to forget it and approach the stories with a fresh mind. One positive that this volume has over the Holmes short story collections is that these stories are presented as a chronological sequence with almost a through narrative. It's pretty much a novel where the chapters are the individual stories. A lot of short story anthologies I've read aren't like that, so this was refreshing. I won't give too much away in case any of my readers decide they want to pick up the stories themselves, but it's basically a sequence of failed or successful thefts. Raffles is generally nowhere near as good a 'cracksman' as he (or Bunny) thinks he is, and if he'd stop wasting money on maintaining his thief's trappings he'd probably have enough to live a comfortable life anyway.
Bunny arrives at the beginning in a heightened emotional state. They are old public school friends (Bunny was Raffles' fag - stop sniggering at the back) and Bunny is down on hard times following a gambling problem. Raffles rescues him from his funk and takes him under his wing. Bunny is often an unwilling accomplice and is the typical occasional hero / foil / hindrance to Raffles' plans. Maybe we are supposed to sympathise with Bunny from the start? Maybe we are supposed to be intrigued by and attracted to Raffles, this naughty man of the leisured class? I felt neither.
There's one massive cultural hurdle when approaching this text: men aren't presented as having this kind of intimate loving friendship in fond terms anymore without being gay. Also 'Bunny' is a decidedly effeminate pet name. This is a shame, I feel, but I don't see things changing in the near future. The first few pages of the book are incredibly homo-erotic in our post-Wildean eyes. Green's introduction hints strongly at Hornung's acceptance of and closeness to homosexual friends but there is nothing to suggest that his writing is expressing anything more than the kind of close fondness men of that class could seemingly innocently exhibit before society dug deeper and made a public pariah of Oscar Wilde.
Many readers these days may also be put off by the strong sense of social class and distinction which the book exudes. Raffles wouldn't bother himself with the lower classes or petty housebreaking and pick-pocketting; he's only interested in doing over persons of wealth or rank, or bettering others at the same game. In fact it's all a social game to him, as much as a source of income. Can we love an upper class rogue who's only interested in stealing to maintain his leisured status? I would want to undertake a straw poll on that...
The stories are relatively short and on the whole not massively interesting. There'll always be one of two outcomes: either the robbery succeeds or it doesn't, and our 'heroes' don't get arrested or caught by the authorities either way. There's no danger of them killing anyone or committing any other dastardly deeds as this is not what they're about. As a result I didn't find the stories exciting or engaging, and quite frankly the characters aren't either. If P.G. Wodehouse had written Raffles and Bunny they'd be hilarious - as it is they often strain against the obvious potential for humour. If Conan Doyle had written these stories for Holmes then he wouldn't have, because he'd have thrown them out in favour of better stories. I want to be given good reasons to like or hate Bunny and Raffles, and Bunny's eventual desertion over time does nothing to assist.
This volume is now out of print, but there are plenty of second hand copies out there (mine was such and will probably go to charity now) and there are plenty of editions bringing together this and the other Raffles short story collections. Based on this experience I won't be tracking those down.
Penguin Classics edition, 2003, edited with an introduction by Richard Lancelyn Green.
First published 1899.
Richard Lancelyn Green walks a familiar (or easy) path in his introduction to this edition, drawing attention to the oft-cited connection between E.W. Hornung and Arthur Conan Doyle (Hornung married Doyle's sister and Doyle 'possibly' encouraged Hornung to write these stories even though the pair may not have got on that well). This immediately drags the reader into the comparison of these short stories with the Sherlock Holmes short stories. I fear this does Conan Doyle no favours and probably brings more readers to Raffles than it deserves.
Raffles is 'the' amateur cracksman - a gentleman burglar. Holmes is 'the' amateur sleuth. Both have tales and exploits told by their close companions. But Raffles isn't an anti-Holmes; we all know who that is and Raffles is no Moriarty. Holmes is an attractive character to most readers; you don't necessarily love him but you tend to tolerate his enigmatic eccentricities and admire his skill. Similarly Watson is a very sympathetic character in most instances and it is difficult not to like him; indeed our fondness for Holmes is Watson's fondness for Holmes to all intents and purposes.
Raffles has no such eccentricities or quirks as Holmes; there is little to find to like or despise about him (to a 21st Century reader, at least), and little in the way of hints about what he does when he's not out on his occasional expeditions. Apparently he plays a lot of cricket, but there's not an awful lot of cricket played in these stories. Then there's Bunny. Poor Bunny. He's our Watson - except he's not, because again we have no reason to like him or hate him and he gives us no particular reason to like Raffles either as he regales us with their exploits. That sums up my views rather well actually: pure apathy.
What these stories need is a considerate editor who will draw the unavoidable comparison with Conan Doyle and then scream at the reader to forget it and approach the stories with a fresh mind. One positive that this volume has over the Holmes short story collections is that these stories are presented as a chronological sequence with almost a through narrative. It's pretty much a novel where the chapters are the individual stories. A lot of short story anthologies I've read aren't like that, so this was refreshing. I won't give too much away in case any of my readers decide they want to pick up the stories themselves, but it's basically a sequence of failed or successful thefts. Raffles is generally nowhere near as good a 'cracksman' as he (or Bunny) thinks he is, and if he'd stop wasting money on maintaining his thief's trappings he'd probably have enough to live a comfortable life anyway.
Bunny arrives at the beginning in a heightened emotional state. They are old public school friends (Bunny was Raffles' fag - stop sniggering at the back) and Bunny is down on hard times following a gambling problem. Raffles rescues him from his funk and takes him under his wing. Bunny is often an unwilling accomplice and is the typical occasional hero / foil / hindrance to Raffles' plans. Maybe we are supposed to sympathise with Bunny from the start? Maybe we are supposed to be intrigued by and attracted to Raffles, this naughty man of the leisured class? I felt neither.
There's one massive cultural hurdle when approaching this text: men aren't presented as having this kind of intimate loving friendship in fond terms anymore without being gay. Also 'Bunny' is a decidedly effeminate pet name. This is a shame, I feel, but I don't see things changing in the near future. The first few pages of the book are incredibly homo-erotic in our post-Wildean eyes. Green's introduction hints strongly at Hornung's acceptance of and closeness to homosexual friends but there is nothing to suggest that his writing is expressing anything more than the kind of close fondness men of that class could seemingly innocently exhibit before society dug deeper and made a public pariah of Oscar Wilde.
Many readers these days may also be put off by the strong sense of social class and distinction which the book exudes. Raffles wouldn't bother himself with the lower classes or petty housebreaking and pick-pocketting; he's only interested in doing over persons of wealth or rank, or bettering others at the same game. In fact it's all a social game to him, as much as a source of income. Can we love an upper class rogue who's only interested in stealing to maintain his leisured status? I would want to undertake a straw poll on that...
The stories are relatively short and on the whole not massively interesting. There'll always be one of two outcomes: either the robbery succeeds or it doesn't, and our 'heroes' don't get arrested or caught by the authorities either way. There's no danger of them killing anyone or committing any other dastardly deeds as this is not what they're about. As a result I didn't find the stories exciting or engaging, and quite frankly the characters aren't either. If P.G. Wodehouse had written Raffles and Bunny they'd be hilarious - as it is they often strain against the obvious potential for humour. If Conan Doyle had written these stories for Holmes then he wouldn't have, because he'd have thrown them out in favour of better stories. I want to be given good reasons to like or hate Bunny and Raffles, and Bunny's eventual desertion over time does nothing to assist.
This volume is now out of print, but there are plenty of second hand copies out there (mine was such and will probably go to charity now) and there are plenty of editions bringing together this and the other Raffles short story collections. Based on this experience I won't be tracking those down.
Red Dwarf X: Lemons
So, we've now entered the middle section of the series with Lemons. Three more weeks and it'll all be over. I wonder when Dave will reveal if they're going to make any more?
I have a basic problem with this third episode: as a general rule in Red Dwarf there is a certain scientific logic to most occurrences, or at least they don't require massive leaps of faith. In Time Slides, for example, the mutated developing fluid meant the photos could be interacted with, and the Holly Hop Drive that was used a few times at least worked on explained principles. Lemons breaks this. The rejuvenation shower is a nice idea, and yes there is much fun to be had from the crew constructing a device from flat pack, but it doesn't follow by any stretch of the imagination that it should become a time & space travel transmat when it's incorrectly put together and aligned. That's too random. It's from a different strand of comedy (Goons, Python, Hitchhiker, Boosh). More specifically it smacks of lazy writing: 'I've got a nice idea about the crew meeting a Jesus in 23AD, but how do I get them there? Oh, I'll have them create an accidental IKEA time machine, that'll do...' This is particularly disappointing after last week's well-constructed episode with some great concepts.
The episode was fun and there were some good laughs in places (I loved the pay-off with the meat cutlets Lister was grilling at the beginning), but I felt on the whole that it was patchy. This was a double shame as my old mate Nick Richards played Jesus's 'speeching' uncle and it's always great to see a friend on TV!
I'm also concerned that Kryten and Rimmer only seem to be a mechanoid and a hologram when it suits the situation: the crew used to be worried about people's reactions to Kryten's appearance, but no longer it seems. It was an amusing concept to have to create a basic battery to return to the ship and the scene with the lemon seller was a killer, but presumably Kryten's systems or Rimmer's light bee run on less volts than were required to power the remote device? The previous week Rimmer had referred to himself dying if Pree drove Red Dwarf into the sun. Is Doug Naylor slipping up?
I know that in one way or another Lister has returned to Earth several times now, and he always goes back to the ship afterwards. The series has stopped talking about him as the last human being alive now, but I wonder if they should be drawing attention to the fact that he chooses not to stay on Earth when he can on these occasions, in favour of his life on the Dwarf? Does the series still need a clear purpose, or is it fine to just be about four ageing types wandering the galaxy randomly and having occasional adventures?
This was an even-handed group episode in terms of the crew, with no strong main or sub-plot favouring any of the four, but I felt the situation was forced and ideas weren't thought through fully enough. Having said all that, I'm still enjoying the series and wouldn't consider not watching it - which is a real positive. I will be keeping an eye out, though, to see if the rejuvenation shower appears again...
I have a basic problem with this third episode: as a general rule in Red Dwarf there is a certain scientific logic to most occurrences, or at least they don't require massive leaps of faith. In Time Slides, for example, the mutated developing fluid meant the photos could be interacted with, and the Holly Hop Drive that was used a few times at least worked on explained principles. Lemons breaks this. The rejuvenation shower is a nice idea, and yes there is much fun to be had from the crew constructing a device from flat pack, but it doesn't follow by any stretch of the imagination that it should become a time & space travel transmat when it's incorrectly put together and aligned. That's too random. It's from a different strand of comedy (Goons, Python, Hitchhiker, Boosh). More specifically it smacks of lazy writing: 'I've got a nice idea about the crew meeting a Jesus in 23AD, but how do I get them there? Oh, I'll have them create an accidental IKEA time machine, that'll do...' This is particularly disappointing after last week's well-constructed episode with some great concepts.
The episode was fun and there were some good laughs in places (I loved the pay-off with the meat cutlets Lister was grilling at the beginning), but I felt on the whole that it was patchy. This was a double shame as my old mate Nick Richards played Jesus's 'speeching' uncle and it's always great to see a friend on TV!
I'm also concerned that Kryten and Rimmer only seem to be a mechanoid and a hologram when it suits the situation: the crew used to be worried about people's reactions to Kryten's appearance, but no longer it seems. It was an amusing concept to have to create a basic battery to return to the ship and the scene with the lemon seller was a killer, but presumably Kryten's systems or Rimmer's light bee run on less volts than were required to power the remote device? The previous week Rimmer had referred to himself dying if Pree drove Red Dwarf into the sun. Is Doug Naylor slipping up?
I know that in one way or another Lister has returned to Earth several times now, and he always goes back to the ship afterwards. The series has stopped talking about him as the last human being alive now, but I wonder if they should be drawing attention to the fact that he chooses not to stay on Earth when he can on these occasions, in favour of his life on the Dwarf? Does the series still need a clear purpose, or is it fine to just be about four ageing types wandering the galaxy randomly and having occasional adventures?
This was an even-handed group episode in terms of the crew, with no strong main or sub-plot favouring any of the four, but I felt the situation was forced and ideas weren't thought through fully enough. Having said all that, I'm still enjoying the series and wouldn't consider not watching it - which is a real positive. I will be keeping an eye out, though, to see if the rejuvenation shower appears again...
Saturday 20 October 2012
Red Dwarf X: Fathers and Suns
Trojan was an OK start to the new Red Dwarf series in my view, but I was hopeful that it would improve - and it did with Fathers and Suns.
Trojan was a Rimmer episode. In Fathers and Suns he steps back and Lister comes to the fore. It's one of those periodic episodes where Lister is concerned that he's achieved nothing with his life. Again the series could be accused of re-treading old ground, but an audience (even one comprised mainly of fans who'll know all the old episodes backwards - ahem) will generally accept this as long as it's funny and this episode was.
I'm aware that I may have come to this episode more relaxed with the visuals and the cast than I was for the first week. I was impressed that Craig Charles managed not to overplay the dissenting teenager when watching the video messages, which could have made the whole thing horribly hammy. There's always been a kind of natural performance divide within the crew, with Rimmer and Kryten benefiting from over-performing and Lister and the Cat needing a more understated and controlled style - Lister because he's a lazy bum and the Cat because he's precise and physically aware. That's so far continued this series, and may be another reason why Kochanski unbalanced the team in Series VII & VIII.
There were some nice touches of higher-concept science fiction this time with Pree, the new (temporary) ship's computer predicting and extrapolating the crew's actions and ultimately defeated by her own logic. Yes, again we have an evil woman for the crew to overcome - but then with an all male crew I guess female guest characters are always going to be preferred. This was humorously highlighted by the scene where Rimmer selects Pree's appearance and vital statistics and then doesn't give a fig for her personality or manner.
There was also a nice deconstructive touch where Rimmer decides the term 'Chinese whispers' is racist, only for the episode to then play the game unwittingly, aided by a Taiwanese vending machine voiced in a self-consciously non-PC way and referring to Taiwan as being 'a bit Chinesey'. I just hope the irony of it all wasn't lost on most of the audience.
Unlike last week, this time Lister's main character plot and the rest of the crew's subplot actually came together at the end to bring about the successful conclusion, which was another reason why I felt this week's writing was better.
Overall I found it a funny, intelligent and well-constructed episode of enjoyable TV, despite offering little that's new.
Trojan was a Rimmer episode. In Fathers and Suns he steps back and Lister comes to the fore. It's one of those periodic episodes where Lister is concerned that he's achieved nothing with his life. Again the series could be accused of re-treading old ground, but an audience (even one comprised mainly of fans who'll know all the old episodes backwards - ahem) will generally accept this as long as it's funny and this episode was.
I'm aware that I may have come to this episode more relaxed with the visuals and the cast than I was for the first week. I was impressed that Craig Charles managed not to overplay the dissenting teenager when watching the video messages, which could have made the whole thing horribly hammy. There's always been a kind of natural performance divide within the crew, with Rimmer and Kryten benefiting from over-performing and Lister and the Cat needing a more understated and controlled style - Lister because he's a lazy bum and the Cat because he's precise and physically aware. That's so far continued this series, and may be another reason why Kochanski unbalanced the team in Series VII & VIII.
There were some nice touches of higher-concept science fiction this time with Pree, the new (temporary) ship's computer predicting and extrapolating the crew's actions and ultimately defeated by her own logic. Yes, again we have an evil woman for the crew to overcome - but then with an all male crew I guess female guest characters are always going to be preferred. This was humorously highlighted by the scene where Rimmer selects Pree's appearance and vital statistics and then doesn't give a fig for her personality or manner.
There was also a nice deconstructive touch where Rimmer decides the term 'Chinese whispers' is racist, only for the episode to then play the game unwittingly, aided by a Taiwanese vending machine voiced in a self-consciously non-PC way and referring to Taiwan as being 'a bit Chinesey'. I just hope the irony of it all wasn't lost on most of the audience.
Unlike last week, this time Lister's main character plot and the rest of the crew's subplot actually came together at the end to bring about the successful conclusion, which was another reason why I felt this week's writing was better.
Overall I found it a funny, intelligent and well-constructed episode of enjoyable TV, despite offering little that's new.
Sunday 7 October 2012
Red Dwarf X: Trojan
So, Doctor Who has taken a break and Dave has given us new Red Dwarf to help fill the gap.
I used to love Red Dwarf back in the day. I caught it from the middle of the first series (a school friend nagged me to watch it) and I fell in love with it straight away. It was pretty much only that and Blackadder on TV at the time that could make me laugh so hard it hurt, except re-runs of Monty Python. Alas, unlike Blackadder and Monty Python I don't think Red Dwarf has aged at all well. I don't know if it's the production or the humour or the delivery, but I need to be in the right mood to swallow it's crass smugness these days.
When Dave brought the show back in 2009 for the Back To Earth mini-series I watched it out of faithfulness to the original. Alas, it was dreadful - but I think that was as much the style of the production as anything. I caught it again recently and didn't hate it quite so much, but it suffers in the way Series VII did: the programme needs a live audience, it works best when it is obviously staged and performed for laughs. Blackadder was the same - which is why Blackadder Back and Forth in 2000 didn't work either.
For that reason alone I'm glad the long-awaited Red Dwarf film came to nothing in the end, and there are many 1970s sitcoms which transferred to the big screen that would support that viewpoint.
I think the production crew realise this too, because the new Series X has returned to a studio audience format. That's its first big win.
I'll admit I wasn't keen the first time I watched Trojan. I didn't laugh once. But I wasn't sure why and it was clearly miles better than Back To Earth. I could see that it was funny, and not in too dissimilar a way to the old series for it to be a different beast. I don't feel my expectations were unnecessarily high either. I think in retrospect it was because the cast are so much older and I found it distracting, which is quite an unsophisticated and unfair criticism. They're all comfortable, competent performers - even if they look and sound 25 years older than they used to. I think once I'd stopped focusing on this and gave it another chance the second time I watched it I enjoyed it a lot more. I still didn't laugh much, but I smiled a lot and there were a lot of gags and humorous moments. My biggest 'smile' moments were Kryten deleting information, Rimmer's frustration at everyone else knowing the Swedish moose story and the gurning pauses - which is always a crowd-pleaser if done well as here.
This was very much a Rimmer episode and Chris Barrie applied himself very well. Lister, Cat and Kryten had plenty to do, but they were very much in supporting roles. I don't think it offered anything new though. The crew meet another vessel which turns out to have a survivor and a psychotic female aboard. Surprise surprise. It was a fun twist that Rimmer's brother was just as much a failure as him but in the grand scheme of things this episode was just re-treading the kind of ground Series IV & V had walked years ago.
I'd like to know what's happened to Holly. He/she/it wasn't in Back To Earth either. The character had become a bit stale and limited by Series V, as the same gags were rolled out week on week, but if used properly the ship's computer should be a useful and amusing tool at least.
One aspect that surprised me was the duration. Being made by Dave, as a commercial channel, I expected it to comprise the standard two twelve minute parts for a half hour slot with ad breaks. But no, it comes in at a standard BBC half hour, running to 40 minutes with adverts. Nice one Dave!
It was a solid, if not overwhelming start. If it's the best the series has to offer then it won't be great, but if it's started off firing at mid-range and gets better then there'll be plenty of happy fans out there I'm sure. I'll be watching again next week.
I used to love Red Dwarf back in the day. I caught it from the middle of the first series (a school friend nagged me to watch it) and I fell in love with it straight away. It was pretty much only that and Blackadder on TV at the time that could make me laugh so hard it hurt, except re-runs of Monty Python. Alas, unlike Blackadder and Monty Python I don't think Red Dwarf has aged at all well. I don't know if it's the production or the humour or the delivery, but I need to be in the right mood to swallow it's crass smugness these days.
When Dave brought the show back in 2009 for the Back To Earth mini-series I watched it out of faithfulness to the original. Alas, it was dreadful - but I think that was as much the style of the production as anything. I caught it again recently and didn't hate it quite so much, but it suffers in the way Series VII did: the programme needs a live audience, it works best when it is obviously staged and performed for laughs. Blackadder was the same - which is why Blackadder Back and Forth in 2000 didn't work either.
For that reason alone I'm glad the long-awaited Red Dwarf film came to nothing in the end, and there are many 1970s sitcoms which transferred to the big screen that would support that viewpoint.
I think the production crew realise this too, because the new Series X has returned to a studio audience format. That's its first big win.
I'll admit I wasn't keen the first time I watched Trojan. I didn't laugh once. But I wasn't sure why and it was clearly miles better than Back To Earth. I could see that it was funny, and not in too dissimilar a way to the old series for it to be a different beast. I don't feel my expectations were unnecessarily high either. I think in retrospect it was because the cast are so much older and I found it distracting, which is quite an unsophisticated and unfair criticism. They're all comfortable, competent performers - even if they look and sound 25 years older than they used to. I think once I'd stopped focusing on this and gave it another chance the second time I watched it I enjoyed it a lot more. I still didn't laugh much, but I smiled a lot and there were a lot of gags and humorous moments. My biggest 'smile' moments were Kryten deleting information, Rimmer's frustration at everyone else knowing the Swedish moose story and the gurning pauses - which is always a crowd-pleaser if done well as here.
This was very much a Rimmer episode and Chris Barrie applied himself very well. Lister, Cat and Kryten had plenty to do, but they were very much in supporting roles. I don't think it offered anything new though. The crew meet another vessel which turns out to have a survivor and a psychotic female aboard. Surprise surprise. It was a fun twist that Rimmer's brother was just as much a failure as him but in the grand scheme of things this episode was just re-treading the kind of ground Series IV & V had walked years ago.
I'd like to know what's happened to Holly. He/she/it wasn't in Back To Earth either. The character had become a bit stale and limited by Series V, as the same gags were rolled out week on week, but if used properly the ship's computer should be a useful and amusing tool at least.
One aspect that surprised me was the duration. Being made by Dave, as a commercial channel, I expected it to comprise the standard two twelve minute parts for a half hour slot with ad breaks. But no, it comes in at a standard BBC half hour, running to 40 minutes with adverts. Nice one Dave!
It was a solid, if not overwhelming start. If it's the best the series has to offer then it won't be great, but if it's started off firing at mid-range and gets better then there'll be plenty of happy fans out there I'm sure. I'll be watching again next week.
Saturday 6 October 2012
Doctor Who Series 7 reviews: The Angels Take Manhattan
In various ways I've found nearly all of the Series 7 episodes difficult to review so far, and The Angels Take Manhattan is possibly the most difficult; it gets the effect it wants, but on reflection it takes some liberties along the way.
The episode sets out to tug at the heart strings, if not snap them entirely, giving us some of Matt Smith's, Arthur Darvill's & Karen Gillan's finest moments in the series - and the most intense, emotional character exit since 2006's Doomsday. My viewing experience was that this was a wonderful piece of television, pitched perfectly and delivered with aplomb.
The cherubs were easily the most disconcerting of the Weeping Angels on offer and the fact that the Doctor, Amy, Rory and River found themselves unwittingly caught in a trap where events were spiralling out of their control was very reminiscent of some of the best tragic stories from the Classic series - such as Logopolis, Earthshock and The Caves of Androzani. This wasn't an episode with a strong story driving through it, into which the Doctor et al enter and sort things out for other people. It didn't need to be. Instead this was a scenario into which our heroes enter, and then have to try to get out of without disaster - the story was theirs and theirs alone.
I loved that Amy & Rory were allowed to take their own decisions, make their own choices without having to check with or defer to the Doctor. They've not always been used in the best way so far this series and it was heartening to see them go out on such a high note from a character as well as a performance perspective. The roof-edge scene in particular was very powerful, if not a nightmare for viewers with vertigo (nice angles, Mr Director!) and the sheer overflowing emotion evident in Karen Gillan and Matt Smith as Amy made her final 'choice' was enough to tip even the hardest heart over the edge. It's scenes like this that take the show beyond the purely sensational, and really make the viewer challenge what they themselves would do in that situation.
There was a real portent of doom throughout. The viewer often knew more than the characters themselves and so we were left watching events fall into line with the certainty of disaster - whether we had heard that Amy and Rory were leaving or not. The episode was skillfully directed by Nick Hurran with a gorgeous use of light and shadow (which is what any Weeping Angels episodes need) and no unnecessary heavy-handedness or unsubtle lingering. Having also done a great job with Asylum of The Daleks, Hurran is the director setting the bar this season, in my opinion.
It's a bit trite to say that this was an episode about decisions, and committment, and living with consequences. Most Doctor Who stories are about those things; most stories full stop are about those things. But because this story was so entirely about our heroes, these aspects appeared much more heightened. There was no gallery of guest characters to hide behind, no one inconsequential, just the Doctor's group and the Weeping Angels. And there were no winners. Everyone lost in some way, but thankfully Amy's last gambit played off giving her something of a pyrrhic victory in the end.
As I said, my viewing experience was that this was a powerful and emotive piece of television drama and for that it should be praised. But I can't help being analytical too, and I don't like to judge things at face value.
We've had two full seasons of Amy, and then Rory as well, travelling with the Doctor, then this season it's been more fragmentary. They've been taxied from home to adventure to back home again a few times. We've met Brian, Rory's dad, and got to like him. We've not really had a chance to appreciate the Doctor and the Ponds back on proper TARDIS travelling terms again yet when this happens. I think we either needed to swap A Town Called Mercy and The Power of Three or to have another episode of them adventuring normally again before this one. The series hasn't allowed us or them to get comfortable. It was the build up of the comfort zone that made Rose's leaving in 2006 all the more powerful.
The Doctor reminds us that New York is known as 'The City That Never Sleeps'. Since the Angels are hampered by being watched, a city that doesn't sleep may not be the best place for them to operate! Perhaps they could have focussed on it being a city where people don't take an interest in anything but themselves (like much of London) suggesting that no one notices that these statues move because they're not interested in anything outside their immediate self-centredness?
The Weeping Angels: so now they can take over any statue, regardless of whether it's stone or not? Hmmm... I think this was shoe-horned in just so the production could use the Statue of Liberty (insert gag on taking liberties here...) In the grand scheme of things this isn't a massive problem, but I don't think the Statue worked as well as it might since we never saw it in all it's glory from ground level. There were various instances of Angels trapped looking at each other down a corridor or being looked at and still acting (which is bending the rules, folks!) - and can anyone believe that the Statue of Liberty could move without somebody seeing it at some point and thinking 'what the hell?!' (see my previous point about 'the City that never sleeps'!)
I enjoyed the pre-titles section with the private detective, but it was unclear if the mafia boss character understood the Angels and if he was working for them or whether he was accidentally sending people to their deaths at Winter Quay. His demise was rather thrown away too, leaving the viewer feeling a bit 'so what' about him. I wanted to know him better so I could like him or hate him properly.
Finally, if the Doctor couldn't go back to 1938 New York could he not have arranged to pick up Amy and Rory somewhere else in the USA in 1939 or even a few years later for example, by leaving them a message? Would that have also counted as one paradox too many and blown the world apart? I know the gravestone makes their deaths a fixed event (like the Doctor's in series 6, ahem...) but rules are broken and plots are schemed often enough by the Doctor to get them out of this, I feel.
But this is really me nit-picking and looking too closely into something which was actually a great piece of television. Now roll on Christmas and the return of Jenna-Louise Coleman!
The episode sets out to tug at the heart strings, if not snap them entirely, giving us some of Matt Smith's, Arthur Darvill's & Karen Gillan's finest moments in the series - and the most intense, emotional character exit since 2006's Doomsday. My viewing experience was that this was a wonderful piece of television, pitched perfectly and delivered with aplomb.
The cherubs were easily the most disconcerting of the Weeping Angels on offer and the fact that the Doctor, Amy, Rory and River found themselves unwittingly caught in a trap where events were spiralling out of their control was very reminiscent of some of the best tragic stories from the Classic series - such as Logopolis, Earthshock and The Caves of Androzani. This wasn't an episode with a strong story driving through it, into which the Doctor et al enter and sort things out for other people. It didn't need to be. Instead this was a scenario into which our heroes enter, and then have to try to get out of without disaster - the story was theirs and theirs alone.
I loved that Amy & Rory were allowed to take their own decisions, make their own choices without having to check with or defer to the Doctor. They've not always been used in the best way so far this series and it was heartening to see them go out on such a high note from a character as well as a performance perspective. The roof-edge scene in particular was very powerful, if not a nightmare for viewers with vertigo (nice angles, Mr Director!) and the sheer overflowing emotion evident in Karen Gillan and Matt Smith as Amy made her final 'choice' was enough to tip even the hardest heart over the edge. It's scenes like this that take the show beyond the purely sensational, and really make the viewer challenge what they themselves would do in that situation.
There was a real portent of doom throughout. The viewer often knew more than the characters themselves and so we were left watching events fall into line with the certainty of disaster - whether we had heard that Amy and Rory were leaving or not. The episode was skillfully directed by Nick Hurran with a gorgeous use of light and shadow (which is what any Weeping Angels episodes need) and no unnecessary heavy-handedness or unsubtle lingering. Having also done a great job with Asylum of The Daleks, Hurran is the director setting the bar this season, in my opinion.
It's a bit trite to say that this was an episode about decisions, and committment, and living with consequences. Most Doctor Who stories are about those things; most stories full stop are about those things. But because this story was so entirely about our heroes, these aspects appeared much more heightened. There was no gallery of guest characters to hide behind, no one inconsequential, just the Doctor's group and the Weeping Angels. And there were no winners. Everyone lost in some way, but thankfully Amy's last gambit played off giving her something of a pyrrhic victory in the end.
As I said, my viewing experience was that this was a powerful and emotive piece of television drama and for that it should be praised. But I can't help being analytical too, and I don't like to judge things at face value.
We've had two full seasons of Amy, and then Rory as well, travelling with the Doctor, then this season it's been more fragmentary. They've been taxied from home to adventure to back home again a few times. We've met Brian, Rory's dad, and got to like him. We've not really had a chance to appreciate the Doctor and the Ponds back on proper TARDIS travelling terms again yet when this happens. I think we either needed to swap A Town Called Mercy and The Power of Three or to have another episode of them adventuring normally again before this one. The series hasn't allowed us or them to get comfortable. It was the build up of the comfort zone that made Rose's leaving in 2006 all the more powerful.
The Doctor reminds us that New York is known as 'The City That Never Sleeps'. Since the Angels are hampered by being watched, a city that doesn't sleep may not be the best place for them to operate! Perhaps they could have focussed on it being a city where people don't take an interest in anything but themselves (like much of London) suggesting that no one notices that these statues move because they're not interested in anything outside their immediate self-centredness?
The Weeping Angels: so now they can take over any statue, regardless of whether it's stone or not? Hmmm... I think this was shoe-horned in just so the production could use the Statue of Liberty (insert gag on taking liberties here...) In the grand scheme of things this isn't a massive problem, but I don't think the Statue worked as well as it might since we never saw it in all it's glory from ground level. There were various instances of Angels trapped looking at each other down a corridor or being looked at and still acting (which is bending the rules, folks!) - and can anyone believe that the Statue of Liberty could move without somebody seeing it at some point and thinking 'what the hell?!' (see my previous point about 'the City that never sleeps'!)
I enjoyed the pre-titles section with the private detective, but it was unclear if the mafia boss character understood the Angels and if he was working for them or whether he was accidentally sending people to their deaths at Winter Quay. His demise was rather thrown away too, leaving the viewer feeling a bit 'so what' about him. I wanted to know him better so I could like him or hate him properly.
Finally, if the Doctor couldn't go back to 1938 New York could he not have arranged to pick up Amy and Rory somewhere else in the USA in 1939 or even a few years later for example, by leaving them a message? Would that have also counted as one paradox too many and blown the world apart? I know the gravestone makes their deaths a fixed event (like the Doctor's in series 6, ahem...) but rules are broken and plots are schemed often enough by the Doctor to get them out of this, I feel.
But this is really me nit-picking and looking too closely into something which was actually a great piece of television. Now roll on Christmas and the return of Jenna-Louise Coleman!
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