Viewing posts tagged four to doomsday

33

Enlightenment and Persuasion have walked in on the Doctor and his friends.  They now look human.  A man and a woman, created from a sketch Tegan drew.  Pale, impassive, handsome, impeccably-groomed people in clothes that Tegan thought fashionable.  They look like she modelled them on First Class passengers on Concorde.  The Jet Set. 

Persuasion hands round drinks.  Nothing more persuasive than that.

Enlightenment is explaining her transformation from frog to aspirational 80s princess.  She speaks in cut-glass vowels and icicle consonants.

"We enjoy the most advanced technology in the universe," she claims, her voice suffused with nonchalant arrogance.

She was kissed by technology.

"The dominant emotion on planet Earth is fear," says Persuasion suavely.  Yes, that's always how the 'natives' look to the 'explorers'.  Fearful little things.  "When last we were there, our reception was hostile."

Tegan, a woman from a nation built on the destruction and subjugation of 'natives' by 'explorers', is not fooled.

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," she sneers.

"Well, we must read your history books," says the Doctor.  There is no better way to learn about the mindset of the rulers of ...

Nice Guy, Nasty Cosmos

The great Timelash II rehash finally hobbles to a close.  Here's the last roundup.  Seasons 19-21.


Castrovalva

This is a story, like ‘Logopolis’, that achieves greatness despite its many flaws. Flaws first:

“Take your hands off me – this is an official uniform!” and “We’re perfectly harmless, unfortunately!”

Seriously… who the hell talks like that? I can forgive “I know so little about telebiogenesis” because Nyssa is an alien scientist child prodigy aristocrat. But Tegan is supposed to be a down-to-earth working woman. And, on that subject, it becomes abundantly clear during this story that the programme makers aren’t going to exploit the contrast between the two characters’ backgrounds and attitudes for interesting dramatic conflict. Nor are they going to milk the business of the Master inhabiting Nyssa’s father’s body for dramatic potential either… though, to her great credit, Sarah Sutton is still trying to use her face to express anguish at the Master’s appearance.

Ainley, it need hardly be said, excels as the delightful Portreeve (channelling Olivier to the point that it becomes beside-the-point that it’s always obvious who he is) but suddenly goes crap when called upon to play an obtuse ...

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