How I Learnt To Stop Worrying And Love The Who

A détente, then. My sister came to terms with it a long time before I did, but Who is never going to resemble what I want it to be: an imaginative, tightly-scripted and plotted telefantasy show. Like its previous incarnation, you have to accept that it’s often going to be inconsistent, often incoherent, and plotted like a monkey on a sugar high.

The opening thirty minutes? Teh awesome. The Cybermen / Dalek bitchfest was simply wonderful. The Daleks backing off when Rose mentioned the Doctor. The Doctor and his sonic screwdriver - a cheer. The secret of the Genesis Ark? Genius (Although I was screaming 'it's the Hand of Omega!' just before the prison TARDIS was opened). Lady Torchwood overriding CyberControl? A good stiff upper lip, just like the Brigadier.

The final emo ten minutes? Funnily enough, I think that one of RTD's weak points is that his Who scripts just never pack the emotional punch that he aims for; there's always a repeated joke that he uses to lighten the mood, and then run that joke into the ground for two minutes to make sure we get it (most obviously in Love And Monsters, but shown here in Jackie's "how rich?" routine), and he never manages to capture emotions in the way that Sorkin, Whedon, Sherman-Palladino, McGovern, or a host of other writers do. But, it's adequate, it's not going to change, and the last bit of the Rose/Doctor exchange was good. So I'll take the flashes of greatness and try not to get annoyed at the dumb bits in the future.

(also? His Dark Materials?)

Having said that, the final thirty seconds made me want to rip off his arms and beat him to death with them, but hey, I guess that was his intention.

currently playing: The Flaming Lips – It Overtakes Me / The Stars Are So Big … I Am So Small … Do I Stand A Chance?