Doctor Who: The Bells of Saint John

Steven Moffat said in numerous interviews in recent weeks that “The Bells of Saint John” was as close as Doctor Who could get to James Bond. I don’t know about all that, but the episode does sport some nifty action sequences, there’s a great deal of running to and fro, and the mechanics of it all work as long as you don’t analyze them too closely, which opens the door to a special kind of hell for those of us who must write about this show.

What the episode really smacks of is Russell T Davies. This is the closest thing that’s been done on Moffat’s watch to what Davies was often doing before him. It’s as if Moffat was haunted by the ghost of “Partners in Crime” while he plotted this, which isn’t a bad thing, because this style of action romp/social commentary has been missed. If anything, in the past it was easy to take these sorts of stories for granted, because they appeared so effortlessly written. Moffat’s guiding hand isn’t quite as steady as Davies for this kind of material, but as season openers go, it more or less accomplished what it set out to do. Oh yeah, that’s right…this isn’t a season opener. Though we’re still in the middle of season seven, “The Bells of Saint John” has that “the story’s starting over” vibe; the sort of thing you’d feel at the top of a new season.

Read the rest of this recap by clicking here and visiting Vulture.

The BBC's Alice in Wonderland (1986) & Alice Through the Looking Glass (1973) DVD reviews

The Rued Morgue has love for the most famous works of Lewis Carroll, but it wasn’t that love specifically that led to the desire to check out and review these two recent DVD releases from the BBC. Unsurprisingly, both programs have Doctor Who connections, and both I’ve known about for years, but have never seen. Kudos to the BBC folks who dug deep into the archives and unearthed these rarities for public consumption. A few years ago I reviewed another BBC TV version of Alice in Wonderland (1966) – a version that was a drastic departure in terms of presentation from what we’ve come to expect from the classic story. This version? Not so much. Not at all, really. Indeed, it is extremely faithful to Carroll’s work, and nearly all of the dialogue (including a number of songs) seems to have been lifted directly from the original text, and it covers most of the book. Having suffered through the plastic Tim Burton movie, Carroll scholars will surely find this a worthy adaptation based on the dialogue alone.

Titled Alice in Wonderland, the episodes are dated 1985, but according to IMDB, it started airing on the BBC the first week of 1986. It was produced by Terrance Dicks and dramatized and directed by Barry Letts, and like a classic Who serial, is presented over four episodes, each running nearly 30 minutes. In addition to the behind the scenes contributions of Messrs. Dicks and Letts, this production features some other noteworthy Who alumni: Elisabeth Sladen as the Dormouse, her husband Brian Miller (“Snakedance”) as the Gryphon, Roy Skelton as the Mock Turtle, and Michael “Davros” Wisher as a pretty sinister Cheshire Cat; all four appear under heavy makeup and are barely recognizable. However, heavy doesn’t necessarily equate to great, and these creatures are often not much more convincing than the sort of thing you’d see at a professional children’s theatre (the production often feels like theatre). Having said that, many of the anthropomorphized creatures bear striking resemblances to the illustrations drawn by Sir John Tenniel to accompany Carroll’s original text, so in a sense, the effects, makeup and costuming strive to be true to the original work as well.  

This is a low budget video affair, produced on more of a shoestring than even Doctor Who (which was on its infamous mid-80s hiatus at the time this was made). The production is loaded with Letts’ notorious CSO, which, alongside some basic set work, is used to achieve Wonderland. The BBC version of the technique had been honed considerably by ’86 (versus when Letts when using it on Who during the early ‘70s), so it doesn’t look bad, per se, but it is a matter of getting used to the surreal-but-often-flat atmosphere. Who’s to say what Alice’s imagination dreamed up?

What sold me on this Alice was the dawning realization that Letts and Dicks are seemingly paying homage of sorts to the 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz. The styles used to achieve the two productions are similar, even though they’re separated by decades and tools. Today, the painted backgrounds used to frequently bring Oz to life would be unthinkable, as would these flat CSO backgrounds – but the end results aren’t terribly different if you analyze them sans prejudice. We (hopefully) make allowances for Oz when we watch it today because it’s an understood classic, and forgive that it’s a product of its time, just as this Alice is of its time, and just as importantly, its place: BBC TV.

Other similarities? The use of songs, the previously mentioned anthropomorphized creatures (ala the Cowardly Lion), as well as the casting of an older actress to play the lead role (Kate Dorning’s Alice is at least 16 here). They even begin each episode with a prologue set in reality (Carroll weaves the tales to his niece and her friends) and colored in sepia tone! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying or even implying this is anywhere near the same level of artistry as Oz. It doesn’t have the same energy or vision. Nobody’s ever going to call it a classic – it’s far too restricted by its TV origins. But I can picture Terrance Dicks and Barry Letts, when putting this production together, using Oz as a jumping off point - or for inspiration, if you like, and at the end of the day being reasonably pleased by the results, given what they had to work with.

The second program is Alice Through the Looking Glass, which, while indeed based on Carroll’s second Alice book, is not a sequel to the previous production. Dramatized and directed by James MacTaggart, it was shown on Christmas Day in 1973 as a single 74 minute show, and stars Sarah Sutton (Nyssa of ‘80s Doctor Who fame) - who was 11 when it was shot - as the title figure. Having said all of that, it still makes a fine sequel to the previously discussed production, as the techniques are similar, right down to the dodgy (but lovable) CSO. Though I didn’t necessarily get the same kind of Oz vibe from this one, its adherence to both the text and the illustrations of its source material is clear. It’s also got a somewhat more high profile cast (in terms of British TV royalty, anyway) with Brenda Bruce, Judy Parfitt and Geoffrey Bayldon all playing sizable parts. However the standout performance must surely be that of Freddie Jones (Dune, The Elephant Man) as Humpty Dumpty, who does amazing things with just his face and voice. Sutton acquits herself nicely as well, and her Alice has a bit more spunk than Nyssa was ever allowed to.

Both discs are bares bones with no extras whatsoever, aside from optional English subtitles. While both programs present frequently disturbing visions that no doubt haunted the children of their respective days, it seems unlikely that kids weaned on the production values and dramatic pacing of today would find much to appreciate here. No, from today’s vantage point, this is fare for adults who can appreciate the conditions under which these shows were created, or people who just want to soak up as many screen versions of Carroll’s literature as possible. Now, BBC, how about releasing Barry Letts' dramatization of Gulliver in Lilliput from 1982?

The Black Whisky Union: The Lysergic EP

“Our focus is memorable melodies, heartfelt story telling, acoustic guitar, piano, bass groove driven soul. Our music is built on the rawness of music. No frills, no samples, no auto-tune.” – The Black Whisky Union

Long time Morgue readers may recall my love for an L.A.-based pop rock band called Vinyl Candy. After three albums of SoCal goodness, the band is currently “on hiatus.” Even though I’m in sporadic contact with some of the band members (i.e. we’re Facebook friends), I don’t actually know the specifics behind the break, or if it’s permanent, or what. I do know that in pop and roll terms, three albums is not a number to sneeze at, and they were three solid albums, and those three CDs will sit nicely next to my Jellyfish and Big Star discs[1].

The good news is that two members of Vinyl Candy – all around musical maestro Jim Leber, and percussionist Michael Wessner - have formed a new band with a lady named Brit Sheridan, who’s handling the majority of the vox on this project. She’s got the looks and the pipes, this girl, and is unquestionably an ideal front person for The Black Whisky Union. Brit’s also an actress, and if you’re a Supernatural fan, you may have caught her on last year’s episode “Bitten.”

The Black Whisky Union kicked off their sound around Christmas with a holiday offering appropriately entitled “Christmas Time” - a bold move. Most bands don’t do the holiday stuff until like the fifth album. They followed that up with a exceptional cover of the Eagles radio staple “I Can’t Tell You Why,” and now they’ve unveiled a three song EP entitled Lysergic, which frankly gets catchier and more perfect with each successive listen; major ear wormage, in the best possible way. I’m particularly fond of “Letter,” which reminds me of the great Vinyl Candy ballads. You can listen to all of this stuff on Soundcloud at the band’s website. Like what you hear? It’s all available on iTunes. 

The band intends to release two more EPs later this year (perhaps to be titled Acid and Diethylamide?). Be sure to “like” them on Facebook so you can keep up with their tuneage and release schedule.

 [1]Matt Corey and Justin Brinsfield – your contributions will be missed like you cannot imagine.

Doctor Who: The Ark in Space Special Edition DVD review

“The Reign of Terror” was an ideal DVD release to kick off the 50^th Anniversary year of Doctor Who – a tale unseen by many a fan, finally available on a platform for mass consumption. (By the way, the Morgue “Reign” DVD review has been updated with some new info, so you might want to peek at that entry again.) While the release schedule isn’t exactly slowing down, it won’t be until June that we get a DVD of a previously unreleased story (Jon Pertwee’s “The Mind of Evil”). Such stories are dwindling as we near the end of the DVD range, but that had to happen sooner or later. Though it might not seem like it sometimes, there actually is a finite amount of classic Who in the world.

So until June you can either save some money, or you can double-dip, and there’s no better place to start that double-dipping than with the special edition of “The Ark in Space,” the revolutionary second story of Tom Baker’s tenure that firmly declared a new direction for the series. One of the unexpected results of these special editions is that they occasionally force me to reconsider tales that weren’t among my favorites in the first place. Not that I’ve ever had a beef with “The Ark in Space,” but in the past it’s often felt dwarfed by so much of what came after. A new DVD brings a new attitude, and here I found myself really rather in love with the whole affair.

The Doctor (Baker), Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen), and Harry Sullivan (Ian Marter) have left the present behind and are now travelling a cosmos of the distant future. The TARDIS takes them to a seemingly dead space station – however, the “ark” holds the final remnants of the human race, in stasis, ready to reclaim the Earth and begin again. The humans begin to awaken. Leaders Vira (Wendy Williams) and Noah (Kenton Moore) are first, and both are baffled by the station’s system failures. While the humans have slept, an alien nasty called the Wirrn (pronounced “we’re in”) has infiltrated the ark, intent on piggybacking upon millions of years of human progress, at the cost of the future of the human race.

Make no mistake, “Robot” was great fun, and a worthy enough jumping-off point for the new Doctor, but it clearly had one foot in the previous Pertwee/Letts era, with its Earthbound, UNIT-driven setting. Elements of its plot even harken back to the previous season’s tales “Invasion of the Dinosaurs” and “Planet of the Spiders.” Baker’s Doctor felt as though he was itching to leave all that familiarity behind, and go out in search of the unknown, which is precisely what happens in “Ark,” and why thematically it is the real beginning of the Fourth Doctor’s era.

“The Ark in Space” has frequently been compared to Ridley Scott’s Alien. This is clearly a somewhat dodgy proposition, and if one wants to look for similarities, expectations must be kept thoroughly in check for first time viewers. Alien is, after all, the granddaddy of modern sci-fi horror, and “The Ark in Space” is a 1975 BBC TV serial produced on a shoestring budget. That being said, the parallels are there, and when “Ark” was unveiled, it had been some years since Doctor Who had aimed to scare the piss out of the little ones. The serial went even further, by attempting to chill adult viewers as well. Look beyond the green colored bubble wrap and the static look of the Wirrn, and there is indeed something horrific going on, provided you use just a little bit of imagination, as this is also a tale of Cronenbergian body horror done for a family audience.

One of the tale’s obvious triumphs is the rather marvelous set design of the space station by Roger Murray-Leach. The sets were in fact so elaborate (by Who standards, anyway) that they were used twice in the season; later on “Revenge of the Cybermen” portrayed the same station, only set in a much different time period.  On this viewing, however, I was particularly taken by the sound design of “The Ark in Space.” There’s a heavy, all-encompassing eerie, moody vibe (the hum of the station immediately sets the tone), much of which is no doubt the work of Dick Mills, but due credit must also be given to Dudley Simpson’s exceptional score. This is a serial that’s as much fun to hear as it is to watch.

Though the performances are pretty tight across the board, it’s worth finishing up with a little talk of Baker’s work here specifically. Never before had the series presented a Doctor who was so thoroughly alien. Baker’s got a bizarre sense of hard wonder about him here. His is a totally original performance, and not always entirely likable. His Doctor would of course soften over time, but right here at the beginning, what Baker’s doing is a particularly unusual sight to behold. After five years of the far more comforting Jon Pertwee, what must regular viewers have thought of this rogue space traveler upon viewing this serial in ’75? He wasn’t a grandfather you could look up to and believe in, but more of a mad uncle with a wild stare - a visage that keeps you up at night when the lights are out. Baker’s Doctor at this stage was very possibly as unsettling as the creatures he battled. Yes, Doctor Who was in for some changes, and “The Ark in Space” was only the beginning.

"Homo sapiens! What an inventive, invincible species! It's only been a few million years since they crawled up out of the mud and learned to walk. Puny, defenseless bipeds. They've survived flood, famine and plague. They've survived cosmic wars and holocausts. And now, here they are, out among the stars, waiting to begin a new life. Ready to outsit eternity. They're indomitable...indomitable."

DVD Extras: A few items have not made the crossover from the original release of “The Ark in Space.” The “Who’s Who” feature is missing, as it always is on the special editions, so not a big problem there. Also gone is a location report from Wookey Hole, featuring an interview with Tom Baker during production of “Revenge of the Cybermen.” This has since been presented on the “Revenge” DVD (which is really where it belongs), so again, not a massive omission. Gone for good, however, are the Howard Da Silva intros. If you’re a fan of these – and some of you are – then you’ll likely want to hang onto your old DVD. The commentary track with Baker, Sladen, and producer Philip Hinchcliffe has of course been ported over, along with everything else from the original disc, including the alternate CGI sequences, though in order to activate these, you must go to the second screen of the Disc One main menu.

New to Disc One of this two-disc special edition is a fine 30-minute talking heads and clips making of doc entitled “A New Frontier,” which includes gab from Hinchcliffe, director Rodney Bennett, Murray-Leach, and guest stars Williams and Moore, as well as Nicholas Briggs, who talks about the excited shock of watching the serial as a kid. There’s also a new and improved photo gallery.

Disc Two, which features the bulk of the material new to the set, offers up a 70-minute movie version of the serial, also broadcast in ’75. This is the sort of thing that’s possibly of interest to someone who viewed it upon broadcast, but when the complete version exists a mere disc away, it’s unlikely to be something one will get much use out of (your mileage, of course, may vary). Another great documentary entitled “Doctor Forever! Love and War” is an absorbing look back at the Doctor Who book ranges that emerged during the period the show was off the air. Including perspective from Russell T Davies, Mark Gatiss, and Paul Cornell among others, this is a delightful piece, sure to entertain and inform those who read those books, and even those mostly oblivious to their existence. “Scene Around Six” is some lovely footage of Tom Baker surrounded by fans of various ages that runs around seven and a half minutes. Additionally, there’s a minute of 8mm location footage from “Robot,” and a trailer for the special edition of “The Aztecs.” Finally, there’s a bit of a PDF bonanza: Not only do we get the usual Radio Times listings, but there are materials for two different crossover ad campaigns – one for Nestle’s chocolate and another for Crosse and Blackwell baked beans(!). As if that’s not enough, the entirety of the Doctor Who Technical Manual is presented here. If you’re sort of old like me, then that’s sort of exciting.

Doctor Who: The Reign of Terror DVD review - Updated!

Go buy a copy of “The Reign of Terror.” It could very well have a direct effect on certain future titles in the classic Doctor Who DVD range**. Steve Manfred has issued a call to arms of sorts on his typically reliable Doctor Who DVD page (for anyone who collects these discs, his page is the first you should have bookmarked). He says that “The Reign of Terror” must sell well in order to affect the future presentations of five upcoming Hartnell and Troughton DVDs: “The Crusade,” “The Tenth Planet” (the final story of the First Doctor, featuring the first regeneration; also the first Cybermen story), “The Underwater Menace,” “The Moonbase,” and “The Ice Warriors.”

The latter, which is missing two episodes, was recently announced for release later this year, but what form those missing episodes might take appears to be up in the air. They could be presented in a compacted form, made up of still reconstructions that appeared on the VHS years ago. Or, those episodes could be animated, and after you see this disc (or “The Invasion,” which achieved completion via the same process), you’ll see that, for the time being, animation is probably the best presentation for missing episodes. Ideally, every single missing episode should eventually be animated (well, ideally every single missing episode would be found, but I’m trying to operate on a plane of reality here). For now though, the aforementioned stories are the obvious candidates on which to concentrate efforts, since each is missing only one or two episodes. So “The Reign of Terror” must sell well, and the only way that’s gonna happen is if fans go out and buy it. Hard cash, vote with dollars. This is important. (Read Manfred’s words by clicking here.)

For me personally, “The Reign of Terror” is a tricky tale to critique at this juncture, for it is a six-part serial that, prior to this DVD, I had never seen! Now you must understand, this is practically an anomaly as I have seen nearly all of this stuff, repeatedly. As only four of the six “Reign” episodes exist, it was in limbo for the general public up until 2003, when it was released in a massive VHS box set with something like nine other titles. I never bought that set, because the DVDs had already been coming out for a couple years, and I didn’t want to go backwards technology-wise. Fast forward ten years and BBC/Big Finish folks with money and vision have animated Episodes Four and Five, and here I am, viewing an entire Season One Doctor Who story for the first time.

I can’t be objective about “The Reign of Terror” at this time, as it’s too unique a viewing experience. If you’re familiar with historical stories from the Hartnell years, such as “The Aztecs” (also from the first season), you can sort of guess what you’re in for, only this time the adventure takes place during the French Revolution (which as an American I know precious little about). William Hartnell is very good here, as is Jacqueline Hill; William Russell and Carole Ann Ford, not so much – or rather they just aren’t given as much to do. The supporting cast is pretty fine as well, and there’s a nice revelation concerning one of them late in the story. The design and costumes are aptly elaborate, and there's some excellent location footage of the Doctor (you'll find out more about this on the DVD).

The black and white video quality is a tad rougher than usual for the first couple episodes. Episodes Three and Six, however, look pretty close to the usual VidFIRE standard. That leaves Four and Five to be animated. Animating old Doctor Who episodes is admittedly a bizarre thing to do. If it weren’t the only practical solution to the problem, nobody would ever think to do it for material like this, which amounts to a filmed stage play. It’s sort of the opposite of one of the chief functions of animation, which is to present visuals that cannot be achieved any other way. This isn’t “exciting” animation much of the time (the audio doesn't even allow it to be), though the artists here do take minor liberties, especially in regards to certain closeup shots that surely were not in the original serial. But by and large it gets done the job of presenting this material in such a way that it more or less flows with the extant episodes, which is presumably what most people want from this process.

Bottom Line: You must invest a few dollars into this disc. I am the Master and you will obey me. You will buy “The Reign of Terror”…You will buy “The Reign of Terror”… You will buy “The Reign of Terror”…

DVD Extras: All six episodes – regardless of the participants – are moderated by Toby Hadoke. We love Toby. The existing episodes feature Carole Anne Ford, along with guest stars Neville Smith, Jeffry Wickham, Caroline Hunt, Patrick Marley, and production assistant Timothy Combe. Animated Episode Four features actor Ronald Pickup (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel; Who was his first TV gig) and Episode Five offers a fascinating discussion with missing episode hunters Philip Morris and Paul Vanezis. “Don’t Lose Your Head” is a 25-minute making of with Russell, Ford, and Combe. There are also a couple throwaway bits of animation, but no talk of the process itself (for shame!). There’s also a gorgeous photo gallery loaded with nice color behind the scenes shots, Radio Times listings in PDF form, production notes subtitles option on the four existing eps, and a trailer for the special edition of “The Ark in Space” which will be available next month.

**Updated! March 5th - Having spent nearly three hours in the company of the classic Doctor Who DVD range commissioning editor Dan Hall at Gallifrey One a few weeks ago, this post begged for an addendum. According to Dan, the specific sales of “Reign” will not and have not had any direct effect on the potential release of future animated DVDs. This was of course backed up by the announcement of “The Tenth Planet” with an animated Episode Four less than a week after “Reign” was released. And since then, there’s also been confirmation of the upcoming “The Ice Warriors” with animated Episodes Two and Three. Both of these productions were well under way at the time of “Reign’s” release. So, Rued apologies to anyone who went out and picked up that disc at my rather frantic urging, but I imagine the worst that’s happened is that you now own a Doctor Who DVD that you previously did not.

Dan Hall at Gallifrey One 2013

On a different note, a few words about Dan Hall…this man loves classic Doctor Who as much or even more than the most fervent of us. A big reason these DVDs kick so much ass? Dan. After having been led to believe over the years that he was some sort of number-crunching suit, it was refreshing to discover that nothing could be further from the truth. As I said, he spent three hours with about a half a dozen Doctor Who DVD freaks talking over one another, patiently listening to an endless barrage of praise and complaints, never once getting ruffled. The man was a pure joy to hang with, and he’s got plenty of surprises for us in the coming year…and maybe even after.

Also check out my previous article on "The Invasion" - the only other classic Who story to get the animated treatment thus far.

Doctor Who: Shada with More Than 30 Years in the TARDIS DVD review

The first classic Doctor Who DVD release of the year will appeal mostly to the hardcore fan and collector. This three-disc set features “Shada,” the almost preposterously infamous unfinished Season 17 serial starring Tom Baker and Lalla Ward, alongside the 1993 30^th Anniversary documentary, “More Than 30 Years in the TARDIS.” Also enclosed is quite the array of documentaries and interviews, yet by the time you’re finished, the entire collection really just feels like three discs worth of extras. Now, if you’re into classic Who DVD extras, this set is prime fodder for you. If not, it’s little more than an extensive collection of bits and bobs that will likely hold zero appeal for those who’ve no interest in such minutiae. Now that we’ve got that sorted out, you can stick with me or move on.

Due to an industrial strike, only about half of the early-1980 six-episode “Shada” was completed. No doubt a big reason so much mystique surrounds the story – which centers on a powerful Gallifreyan book and a lost prison planet of the Time Lords - is because it was written by then-script editor Douglas Adams. It was a hasty contribution to the season after another story fell through, and Adams allegedly had no great love for it, though he did reuse some elements of it in his novel Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency.

The existing footage of “Shada” languished until 1983, when Tom Baker decided not to take part in “The Five Doctors,” at which point producer John Nathan-Turner (with Baker’s permission) used several scenes of the Fourth Doctor and Romana in the special. For years this was all of “Shada” that was available for public consumption. Finally, in 1992, JN-T brought what exists of “Shada” to VHS, along with a score by Keff McCulloch, some appropriately low-fi effects work, and Baker himself providing linking narration for the parts that did not exist. This program is the main feature on this DVD, “newly restored from original film negatives and studio recordings” (per the back of the set).

The concept works pretty well for the first couple episodes - much of which takes place and was filmed in Cambridge, and that footage is an absolute delight. But as the tale moves forward, the enterprise becomes increasingly clumsy, and certainly by the time one gets to the last couple of episodes it no longer works as much of anything but an uneven document of what might have been. Now if only this presentation were the final word on “Shada,” I could stop here.

The Whovian fascination with “Shada” never truly waned, which is rather understandable given how unsatisfying the VHS version was. A flash animated webcast produced by Big Finish and retconned to feature Eighth Doctor Paul McGann, alongside Ward and John Leeson as K-9, was released in 2003. It, too, is present on Disc One of this set, though it can only be viewed on computer, which is a mild shame for those of us who hate viewing programs on our PCs (granted, I am probably in the minority). The animation is extremely clunky insofar as its movement goes, though the pictures can be pretty at times. Some may find it almost as limiting as viewing the VHS version. This version is also available as an audio play through Big Finish.

Fan freak Ian Levine has since funded a full-blown animated version of “Shada,” though who knows when and where that will see the light of day. It’s a shame it isn’t part of this DVD, but given Levine’s prickly reputation, it’s anyone’s guess what hoops he’d have made the BBC jump through to include it (snarky speculation on my part - nothing more). And then, finally, there’s the official novelization written by Gareth Roberts, which was released a year ago, and was followed by an audio book read by Ward. There are all sorts of ways for the Doctor Who fan to imbibe in “Shada,” and this DVD presents two of them. Also present on Disc One is a trailer for the upcoming DVD release of “The Reign of Terror” (though curiously sans any bits of the animation that's been created to complete its visuals), and the production notes subtitle option for the VHS version of “Shada.” There is no commentary track.

Still from the flash animated McGann "Shada"

Moving on to Disc Two, which features a 25-minute documentary devoted to the tragic non-production of the serial, entitled “Taken Out of Time,” which features interviews with Baker and director Pennant Roberts among others. Another fascinating doc, entitled “Strike! Strike! Strike!” (27 min.), details the numerous times Doctor Who, as well as some other BBC programs, have been affected by strikes over the years. “Now and Then” is the now familiar location report, this time on “Shada” (it’s somewhat reassuring to see how little has changed at all the Cambridge locations). “Being a Girl” is a half-hour look at how women are represented in the series (really, this thing could have been three times as long and still not said everything). There’s also a 10 minute photo gallery from “Shada.”

For many, though, it’ll be Disc Three that shines brightest, as it contains “More Than 30 Years in the TARDIS,” a 90-minute doc that’s whimsically nostalgic magic works as well today as it did 20 years ago. Written and directed by a guy named Kevin Davies, this thing soars, and absolutely deserves to be seen and imbibed in at some point during Who’s 50^th Anniversary year. The BBC is said to be producing a new documentary celebrating 50 years, however it cannot be narrated by Nicholas Courtney, as this one is, and Lis Sladen and Jon Pertwee cannot take part as they do here. This is a lovely, well-rounded piece, loaded with clips from all eras of the classic series, and featuring opinions and thoughts from a wide variety of classic Who talent, all wrapped around a storyline (of sorts) of a young boy exploring and being affected by the many worlds and aspects of Who.

Additionally, Disc Three features unrelated interviews with Peter Purves and Verity Lambert, as well as Nick Courtney’s final interview (26 min.), which is just about perfect and features a surprise guest. For the Brig fans out there, this one’s a keeper. A doc called “Those Deadly Divas” plays well alongside the “Being a Girl” doc from Disc Two; this one focuses on the darker sides of women in Who, and features interviews with Kate O’Mara, Camille Coduri, and Tracy-Ann Oberman along with Gareth Roberts and Clayton Hickman. Lastly, there’s a photo gallery of behind the scenes shots from the “More Than…” documentary.

Cosmopolis: Blu-ray review

On paper, the marriage of cult film director David Cronenberg and cult novelist Don DeLillo is no doubt an ideal one, but movies require bringing dozens or even hundreds of other random factors into the mix, and it’s the director’s job to bring all of it together into one cohesive vision. Cosmopolis should have been a masterpiece, and bubbling away beneath its immensely flawed surface, one can see that masterpiece lurking. Unfortunately, the film is painted wall to wall with an uninspired, thoughtless and flat performance from Robert Pattinson that drags the entire affair down to nearly unwatchable. He is in every scene and the entire picture revolves around him. Understand, I’ve nothing against Pattinson. Being largely unfamiliar with his work, I went into Cosmopolis assuming that Cronenberg would work cinematic legerdemain with the actor, as he has done countless times before with dozens of players. He did not.

Read the rest of this review by clicking here and visiting Bullz-Eye.

Doctor Who: The Snowmen

Back when it was announced that Steven Moffat was taking over for Russell T. Davies, he made a comment in an early interview about how his take on Doctor Who would be like a series of “dark fairy tales.” Likely realizing that phrase wasn’t the most conducive to garnering sci-fi fan support, he recanted the statement not long after, saying he’d misspoke, or whatever kind of jive doublespeak a showrunner uses when he has to cover his ass. In any case, while Moffat’s version of the series proper doesn’t warrant the label, his Christmas specials are most certainly dark fairy tales, and “The Snowmen” continues the tradition, although it centers around a Doctor in a decidedly less-than-festive mood.

The episode stops short of transforming the Doctor into a Grinch, which is a shame, because it would’ve been a bold move to showcase a Doctor with no patience for the holidays whatsoever — a harsh contrast to his attitude in all the Christmas specials that have come before. This is also one of the least Christmas-y Christmas specials yet, with only a couple throwaway lines referencing the season; drawing attention to the holiday would have been akin to throwing it in the Doctor’s face, and he’d then have had to demonstrate some annoyance with it. Variations on the rally cry “He should’ve done it this way … ” are commonplace now, seemingly with each new episode, so it’s probably better to not focus on what wasn’t but rather what was, otherwise I could be here for hours.

Read the rest of this recap by clicking here and visiting Vulture. 

Separated at Birth?

Snow Miser (voiced by Dick Shawn), from the 1970 Rankin Bass holiday special, The Year Without a Santa Claus, and the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee)? 

Doctor Who: Series Seven, Part One Blu-ray Review

Having recapped/reviewed all five of these episodes for Vulture back in September, I’m not going to talk specifically about each of them, but since the folks at BBC America were kind enough to slide me a review copy of this set, it seemed like the decent thing to do would be to write a few words about it.

Aside from the stellar audio and video quality, I was most taken with the extras on the second disc. The entirety of the web series “Pond Life” is available on here with a “play all” feature, effectively turning it into a seven-minute short film, which now makes for quite the nice preamble to the mini-season which saw the exit of the Ponds. Likewise, the prequel for “Asylum of the Daleks” should also be viewed prior to watching the episode itself. Really, this stuff should’ve been placed on the first disc, but that minor gripe aside, it’s all a welcome inclusion. However, a second prequel, entitled “The Making of the Gunslinger,” is best viewed after watching “A Town Called Mercy,” otherwise it robs the story of some of its dramatic heft.

Beyond those narrative-enhancing bonuses, the set also offers up one of the four 45-minute specials – “The Science of Doctor Who” - presented by BBC America in the weeks leading up to the premiere of “Asylum”; the other three specials are available on their own disc in the massive and probably now hard to find Doctor Who gift set that was released last month. Lastly, there’s a ten minute piece with Smith, Gillan, Darvill and Moffat fawning and being fawned over at Comic Con.

All in all, this is a fine set and an excellent stocking stuffer for the Whovian in your life. Sure, most of what’s on here will be duplicated on the inevitable Season Seven box set, but this Blu-ray makes a lovely placeholder for those who don’t want to wait another six months to see these final adventures of the Doctor and the Ponds in full, uncompressed 1080i glory.

P.S. “Asylum of the Daleks” gets better with each viewing; best Dalek story since 2005's “Dalek” from Rob Shearman, by a mile.

Doctor Who: The Claws of Axos Special Edition DVD review

“Look, Lois, ever since marijuana was legalized, crime has gone down, productivity is up, and the ratings for Doctor Who are through the roof!” - Brian, Family Guy, “Episode 420”

For no less than three different reasons, that remains some of my favorite Family Guy dialogue ever written. It’s anyone’s guess how many Doctor Who fans watch the show in altered states of mind, but now, here in the States, folks in Washington can at least do so openly and without fear of persecution. They can hold massive, marijuana-fueled Who marathons, and any such festival will most surely want to include “The Claws of Axos,” which is not necessarily one of classic Who’s greatest stories, but it’s certainly one of the trippiest.

The plot is no great shakes. It’s a standard alien invasion yarn, that’s hook is “they appear to come in peace, but actually have ulterior, sinister motives.” This is the sort of sci-fi tale that’s been told thousands of times, and by that measure, “The Claws of Axos” will not rock your world. However, Roger Ebert’s old rule – one by which I live and never pass up the opportunity to quote - is, “It’s not what a movie is about, it’s how it is about it.” And it’s the “how” of “Axos” that makes it such a classic. Just recently one of my Whovian brethren, Lee Hurtado, of The Hurtado Street Theater, was telling me how he got into Who, and explained that even though he’d seen several stories prior, it was “Axos” that eventually sold him on the series. The serial is so damn committed to its own weirdness, that you really cannot take your eyes off of it, and it does sort of beg the question, for the uninitiated at least, “What the fuck is this!?!?”

The first ten minutes of the first episode alone declare, like Laverne and Shirley, “We’re gonna do it our way,” due in no small part to the character Pigbin Josh, a filthy, disgusting, seemingly homeless man (played by stuntman Derek Ware), whose sole function in the story is to be the first victim of the claws of Axos, so that the viewer knows right off the bat that the golden Axons are hostile, despite their benign presentational ruse later on in the tale. Anyway, during this first ten minutes, the action cuts back and forth from the arrival of the Axons, to the Doctor and UNIT, to this character, Pigbin Josh, wandering around in the snow, doing an awful lot of talking to himself, and none of it intelligible. Thankfully, somebody has transcribed some Pigbin speak and put it on the official BBC classic Who website for all to attempt to decipher:  

“Furge thangering muck witchellers rock throbblin' this time o' day Ur bin oughta gone put thickery blarmdasted zones about, gordangun, diddenum? Havver froggin' law onnum, shouldnum? Eh? Eh? Arn I?”

Ahem. Ah, well, yes. If you’re an American fan raised on the Peanuts, you’ll quickly begin referring to him as Pigpen Josh, because that makes more sense to a Yank. Now if only Josh were the end of The Weirdness of Axos, which would’ve been a wholly appropriate name for this tale. The Axon ship, years before Farscape’s Moya, is a living ship. Its organic interior is the sort of thing to be hallucinated in the most unsettling of LSD trips, and even as I sit here trying to think of how to describe it, I’m resigning myself to falling back on some sort of clichéd “it defies description” type of line. Really it does, much of which is due to Who’s low budget. Had millions been pumped into this, we may have had a place from which to start talking, but as is, it’s just weird a hodgepodge of bizarre soft angles, vaginal doorways and the occasional crab claw. Oh, and plenty of acid slides. 

Nothing will prepare you for the arrival of the eyeball of Axos, which dangles in exactly the same way a limp penis might, and issues commands and orders in a creepy, hollow voice. Then there are the golden Axons themselves, who are such a striking creation that even in a story that’s as visually whacked as this one, they’ve sort of become the thing “Axos” is most well known for. Or are they? Because later in the story, the Axons reveal another form, which is a hulking, red mess of tentacles - a look which is almost as iconic as the golden versions of Axos. It is debatable, I suppose, which Axon form is the more iconic; the tentacled version has actually been turned into an action figure, while the golden has not (updated 01/06/2014 - now it has), which could be part of the debate. In any case, the fact that the production team achieved two entirely different looks for this race that are both iconic to such degrees is high praise indeed.

So, I’ve pretty much gotten to the point where I’m realizing exactly how balls out crazy I’ve made “Axos” sound, which was sort of the point, because you’ll see things here you can’t unsee, or see in any other Doctor Who story. Should you, as Dazed and Confused advised upon its release, “See it with a bud!”? Most certainly, if and only if that’s your sort of thing. The story works just fine, however, if you’re sober. For a more coherent breakdown, and one mired in actual criticism, I turned to the aforementioned Lee Hurtado, who, to the best of my knowledge, does not engage in the sorts of activities spoken of here. He laid it out thusly:

           

“There was alchemy at work in the story, something that brought its disparate elements together in a way that shouldn't have worked as it did. The limited production values, the garish visual aesthetic of the Axons, a plot that's at once simple and well over the top, and (of course) the marvelous performances of [Jon] Pertwee and [Roger] Delgado - all combined to create something I recognized as truly alien, and therefore truly original. From then on, my fate was sealed. I was, and am, the Doctor's.”

On a completely different, and in my opinion far less interesting level, anyone who owned the original DVD of “Axos” no doubt knows that the quality of Episodes Two and Three was dodgy at best. New tech has emerged since then, bringing both eps up to a quality comparable to Episodes One and Four, and therefore totally justifying this special edition. For the hardcore Who nut, this isn’t just double-dipping for double-dipping’s sake, it’s quite possibly an essential.

DVD Extras: Almost everything that was on the original DVD (including the commentary with Katy Manning, Richard Franklin, and Barry Letts) has been ported over onto this new double-disc set, except for a ten-minute documentary entitled “Reverse Standards Conversion: The Axon Legacy,” which was a look at the restoration given to the story for the original DVD release; that information is not applicable to this new release, so it has been excised. No new doc, detailing the recent restoration work, was produced to take its place, however there is a fresh, new article up at the Restoration Team’s website detailing the work that went into this special edition.

New to the table is a 26-minute making of doc entitled “Axon Stations!,” which, amusingly, goes into detail about the sheer drugginess of this story, and also spends time discussing the story’s writers, Bob Baker and Dave Martin (the former went on to write Wallace and Gromit). Quite possibly the best extra, however, is “Living with Levene,” in which Toby Hadoke spends the weekend with John Levene (Sgt. Benton), who comes across as a fascinating eccentric, and quite possibly Doctor Who’s most uncelebrated MVP. Finally, partially new to the table is 73 minutes worth of rare “Axos” studio recording, some of which appeared on the old disc in a much shorter version (inexplicably duplicated here as well on Disc One). The Radio Times listings are also presented in PDF form. Additionally, there’s a coming soon trailer for the long awaited release of the unfinished story “Shada,” which will be hitting DVD in January, in a box set along with the 1993 documentary “More Than Thirty Years in TARDIS.”

Binder's Full of Women: The Evolving Art of the Classic James Bond Title Sequence

Over the years James Bonds came and went. Directors and writers shifted and changed. Vocalists were routinely swapped out. Though not the only constant in the Bond franchise, Maurice Binder, as the primary designer of the instantly recognizable title sequence, was certainly one of the most noticeable ones. For the bulk of Bond’s first 27 years, Binder brought us a cavalcade of swirling colors and curvaceous ladies, typically set to the tune of a current pop sensation. His job was to help set the tone for the film to come by presenting elements and themes from the movie in an abstract, artistic fashion. For many, these title sequences became an important, even necessary part of the Bond movie-going experience, and remain so today, over 20 years after Binder’s passing. Here we take an entirely subjective look at his ongoing contributions to cinema’s longest-running movie franchise.

The first thing ever seen in a Bond movie is the opening gun barrel sequence, and no amount of praise can be too effusive for Maurice Binder’s creation of it. James Bond emerges in profile from the right, caught in the movie viewer’s cross hairs. He then spins around, shoots, and the gun sight fills with, presumably, the viewer’s blood.

It’s become part and parcel of the Bond films ever since, though only in Dr. No is it part of the title sequence proper; afterwards, it would be separated from the titles by the now also iconic pre-credits sequence. Coupled with the infamous Monty Norman-composed Bond theme song, the gun barrel sequence is that instantaneous moment when everyone simultaneously acknowledges they’re watching a Bond film.

After the gun barrel sequence, flashing colored lights set to the Bond theme reveal the title “Dr. No” as well as the cast, followed by the silhouettes of people dancing a sort of Jamaican mambo, and, finally, a calypso version of “Three Blind Mice” dovetails nicely into the movie itself. The Dr. No titles are a lot fun and unique in the Bond film series; the only real element of them that would come to feature heavily in the future is Binder’s inventive, energetic use of silhouette.

Read and watch the rest of this piece by clicking here and visiting the Bullz-Eye Blog.

October 5th, 1962

Oct. 5th, 1962: The first James Bond film, Dr. No, is released in U.K. theatres. On the very same day, the Beatles released their first single, "Love Me Do."

So somewhere in London, somebody walked out of a screening of Dr. No, dazzled by Ursula Andress, and then headed over to the record shop and picked up a new single, by a then unheard of band.

Little did that person know that these two pieces of art would be benchmarks by which so much other pop culture is measured 50 years later.

What a thoroughly amazing day Oct. 5th, 1962 was!

Doctor Who: The Angels Take Manhattan

It would be easy to pull “The Angels Take Manhattan” apart for one little thing after another, and many people no doubt will. Even if they do, that doesn’t make it a bad or a weak episode, but it does point to how complicated this series has gotten over the years, much of it due to the heavy injection of romance. “Angels” isall about romance, though it wants to be about plot, too. Here’s where Steven Moffat has a tendency to trip up in his writing, because his aim is to deliver a big twisty-turny story alongside gushy-wushy emotions, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult for him to do both, especially where long term arcs are concerned. Classic Doctor Who didn’t have this problem, as it wasn’t cluttered with complicated feelings between its characters (or extended story arcs, for that matter). If the Doctor said he couldn’t go back and save Adric from being blown to smithereens, we believed him. There were certain laws of time that couldn’t or shouldn’t be broken, and it made perfect sense.

Now we have a Doctor Who that not only features a godlike central character who appears to be governed by nobody outside of himself, but who’s also an extremely clingy, emotional being, desperate to hang on to his companion, possibly even at the expense of her own husband. So when the script puts him into the position of claiming to be unable to do anything about the situation Amy and Rory find themselves in at the close of this episode, it’s an almost impossible notion to swallow, because in any other episode besides this one, it would’ve been quickly remedied, probably with the wave of the sonic screwdriver.

Read the rest of this recap by clicking here and visiting Vulture.

Absolutely Fabulous: 20th Anniversary Specials DVD review

A few years ago, in a review of the complete series box set of Absolutely Fabulous, I wrote, “Even though the name of this set is ‘Absolutely Everything,’ I wouldn’t put it past Jennifer Saunders to revisit Edina Monsoon at some point in the future. She’s seemingly ended Absolutely Fabulous so many times and then come back to it that it’s hard to believe that it’ll ever truly be over.”

If it weren’t such a no-brainer that Saunders would've again charted the Ab Fab waters, I’d be tempted to gloat. The 20^th Anniversary Specials are three, 30-minute episodes, and they’re every bit as funny as the reams of bawdy, satirical nonsense that preceded them. I’m not sure I have a whole lot more to say about this show that I didn’t say in the last review, other than Saunders is more than welcome to continually drop in on these characters time and again, forever, because the joke never gets old (at least not in these tiny increments), and even 20 years after it all began, Jennifer, Joanna, Julia, Jane, and June still have the ability to make me fling my arms around, and cackle at the ceiling.

The first episode, “Identity,” sees Saffy returning home after having done a couple years in prison for creating fraudulent passports. She invites a fellow inmate, Baron (Lucy Montgomery), to come and stay at the flat. Turns out, Baron and Patsy have a sordid history together, and suddenly the inmate’s stay takes a potentially dangerous (but still funny) turn. In this one, Edina has a brief dream sequence that’s the result of her watching the Danish version of The Killing, and the star of that series, Sofie Gråbøl, makes a brief cameo.

“Job” sees Edina and Patsy attempting to resurrect the career of fictional faded 60s film icon Jeanne Durand (Lindsay Duncan), who’s sort of a version of Catherine Deneuve, I guess, if Deneuve had quit working 20 or 30 years ago. Only problem is, she cannot sing, literally – no sounds comes out of her mouth, and Edina and Patsy have booked the Royal Albert Hall! This episode features appearances from Emma Bunton, Lulu and La Roux.

The third and final installment is probably the one to beat. “Olympics” guest-stars Stella McCartney, as well as Olympians Kelly Holmes and Tanni Grey-Thompson, yet the plot is threadbare, but involves lots of sight gags and physical humor, and is chock full of the sort of stuff Ab Fab does best.

Additionally, classic guest characters Justin, Sarah, Bo, Marshall, and Patsy’s co-workers Fleur and Catriona, each get a few minutes here and there, but once again, as has so often been the case, Jane Horrocks steals every scene she’s in as Bubble (and she’s in all three episodes). This is a fine celebration of 20 years of Ab Fab, that never goes overboard, or feels pathetic or dreary like so many such celebrations. It’s just more, good Ab Fab, plain and simple, and this disc would make a great birthday gift or stocking stuffer for the Ab Fab fan in your life, or indeed, for you sweetie dahling!

DVD Extras: A quick Comic Relief sketch, “Ab Fab Does Sports Relief,” also featuring Bunton and McCartney, is best viewed in between “Job” and “Olympics.” There’s also a behind the scenes bit on the sketch.