Ravenous: Blu-ray review

Once upon a time the big movie studios would occasionally make a risky film - sometimes with a bunch of money, and other times with just a little bit. Either way, it was an artistic gamble, and sometimes it would pay off, and other times it wouldn’t. This never seems to happen anymore, where all such choices are made only after myriad polls, research, and analysis, rather than from the gut. These days the risky fare is showing up on TV in the forms of shows like Hannibal (as perfect an example as any for this particular review). I’ve always wanted to meet and shake the hand of the Fox exec[1] who greenlit Ravenous - a period black comedy-horror western about cannibalism, in which the central character, Captain John Boyd (Guy Pearce), doesn’t even speak a complete sentence for the first half hour. 

The modestly budgeted film ($12 million) tanked something fierce upon its release in spring of ‘99. Despite opening on over a thousand screens, its B.O. take was only around $2 million. But, as many movies of quality do, Ravenous lived to see better days, and over the years amassed a pretty hardcore cult following (undoubtedly aided by the increasing popularity of its two stars, Pearce and Robert Carlyle).

In the midst of the Mexican-American War circa 1847, Boyd, having been branded a coward by General Slauson (John Spencer), is sent to Fort Spencer in the remote, wintry Sierra Nevadas, where nothing ever happens. The Fort is staffed by a motley collection of military misfits played by Jeffrey Jones, Neal McDonough, Jeremy Davies, David Arquette, and Stephen Spinella, as well as a pair of Native siblings, amusingly named George (Joseph Runningfox) and Martha (Sheila Tousey, the only female in the picture). The trend of isolated boredom is bucked by the arrival of the mysterious Mr. Colqhoun (Carlyle). Starving and near death, he tells a tale of survival involving Colonel Ives – a member of his party who resorted to cannibalizing the rest of the expedition when the food ran out.

And little more should be said about the plot to the uninitiated. Knowing much else about Ravenous would spoil its manic twists and turns. The script’s unpredictability is one of the film’s numerous strong attributes. Despite its gruesome, graphic depictions of humans dining on each other’s flesh, the film has been called by many (including yours truly) a vampire movie in disguise. There are aspects of its story that echo the relationship of Louis and Lestat in Interview with the Vampire, yet on this viewing I found myself not wanting to acknowledge the vampiric parallels – as if they might somehow take away from the uniqueness of the movie, which actually bases its extensive chowdown on the Algonquian Wendigo myth. Maybe back in ’99 we needed to make such connections and conditions in order to accept a movie that revolves around such an unsettling topic, but today we’re living in a world in which a network series like Hannibal has been granted a third season. There’s no longer any reason to romanticize or qualify Ravenous to those who aren’t in the know, for if you’ve dined on Hannibal for thirteen weeks straight, this 100-minute movie should be a walk in the park (albeit a pretty twisted park).

Behind the lens, Ravenous was directed by the late Antonia Bird, a last minute replacement after the film’s original director, Milcho Manchevski, parted ways with the production after shooting began. Bird was brought onboard at the insistence of Carlyle who’d worked with her on two previous pictures, Priest and Face. Though Priest ruffled a few feathers upon its 1994 release, and met with a fair amount of acclaim, it might still be fair to say that Ravenous will be the movie for which she’ll ultimately be most remembered. The moody cinematography was accomplished by Anthony B. Richmond, and while recent credits of his aren’t particularly impressive, he once upon a time helped give a number of Nicolas Roeg movies - such as Don’t Look Now and The Man Who Fell to Earth - their distinctive looks. The screenplay was the debut of Ted Griffin, who’d go on to co-create another hailed concept that failed to find an audience, the recent one-season FX TV wonder, Terriers.

But perhaps the most exceptional layer of Ravenous is its score. I’ve often heard it said that the best movie scores are the ones you don’t notice, an assertion I take great issue with. To me, the best scores are the ones that stick in your mind – hopefully along with the rest of the picture – for weeks after having experienced them. Michael Nyman had created many such scores for the films of Peter Greenaway, though perhaps his most famous score was for Jane Campion’s The Piano. Here Nyman is, curiously, paired with Damon Albarn, who is nowadays best known as the mad genius behind Gorillaz. Together (or rather apart; they allegedly made their contributions separately), Nyman and Albarn composed and created a work that stands on its own, ranging from quirky tonal sounds to full on majestic orchestrations. The now out of print Ravenous soundtrack goes for pretty big dollars these days, which itself is something of a testament to its quality. Let the menu screen of this disc spin for a while in the background, and the central theme will undoubtedly hypnotize you.

The print used for this Blu-ray had some noticeable dirt on it, but after a bit it either disappeared or, caught up in the movie and I was, I ceased to notice it. While nobody will ever accuse Ravenous of having a varied color palette, the movie looks fair here, but not stellar; inconsistent would probably be the best word to describe it. The 5.1 DTS-HD audio track fares considerably better, in all the right places.

Blu-ray Extras: The very best DVD/Blu-ray extras are often produced years after the movie itself, once the actors and/or crew have gained some perspective on the proceedings, or when there’s no longer any danger of offending co-workers or executives or what have you. This Scream Factory Blu-ray offers up a recently shot 20-minute interview with Jeffrey Jones entitled “The Ravenous Tales of Colonel Hart,” in which he, as a history buff, discusses the implications of manifest destiny as presented in the picture and candidly dishes on the firing of Manchevski and the hiring of Bird. For the Ravenous buff, this is outstanding stuff and a welcome inclusion.

The rest of the extras are, I believe, all ported over from the original DVD release. There are three, count ‘em three, commentary tracks: Bird and Albarn, Griffin and Jones, and finally Carlyle flying solo. There are also deleted scenes with optional commentary by Bird, a theatrical trailer and TV spots, and two galleries of stills detailing the costume and production design. As with many Shout/Scream discs, the artwork can be flipped over to reveal an alternate cover that matches the original Ravenous movie poster art (pictured).

[1] While I can’t find a definitive answer, it appears that the late Laura Ziskin, who headed the arm of Fox (Fox 2000) that produced Ravenous, may have been the culprit.

Portions of this review were lifted from an earlier Rued Morgue article entitled Five Great Movies You May Not Have Seen...But Should.

Screenshots were taken from Vagebond's Movie Screenshots.

Doctor Who: The Enemy of the World DVD review

When the two recovered Patrick Troughton Doctor Who serials were revealed found last year, it was easy for “The Web of Fear” to get all the attention. It is, after all, one of the best Who serials of the sixties, and that find – even with one remaining missing episode – was a landmark. Naturally, “The Enemy of the World” took a bit of a backseat to all the fabulous Yetiness, atmospheric faux London Underground, and the greatness of the Great Intelligence. “The Web of Fear” takes little more than a casual glance in its direction to be able to declare its “classic” status. By comparison, “Enemy” does not feel as instantly, recognizably perfect, and some aspects of it (the arguably tacky futuristic costuming[1], a potentially rambling narrative, and no monsters or aliens) might be off putting to some.

For this viewer, though, “The Enemy of the World” gets better and better with each successive viewing, and I’m now at the point where I’m really sort of in love with the entire affair. From the word go – with the TARDIS materializing on a beach, and the Doctor stripping down to long underwear and jumping into the ocean for a dip – the serial feels like something very special indeed, and Episode One continues with that vibe for the duration of its running time.

Victoria: “Perhaps we’ve landed in a world of madmen!”

The Doctor: “They’re human beings, if that’s what you mean, indulging their favorite pastime – trying to destroy each other!”

Mary Peach as Astrid Ferrier

Farther down the beach, a group of men spy the time travelers, and inexplicably recognize the Doctor. The trio is then chased by the men in a hovercraft, and is subsequently rescued by a blond woman in a helicopter who takes them to a safehouse, where they barely have time to catch their breath before coming under attack once again. After making yet another daring escape, the woman, Astrid Ferrier (Mary Peach, the serial’s most valuable guest player), takes the time travelers to meet Giles Kent (Bill Kerr), and the story unfolds: The Doctor is a ringer for the man poised to all but take over the world, Salamander. Giles fanatically leads a resistance movement with Astrid as his second in command. Their proposal is as seemingly simple as it is realistically complex: Will the Doctor impersonate Salamander, and aid Giles in bringing him down once and for all?

Beyond Episode Three, which has been around for ages (available in the “Lost in Time” DVD box set), my only real previous exposure to this story was the Target novelization, written by Ian Marter, which I devoured as a teenager. That was a long time and many Target novelizations ago, but my most vivid memory of that book was its thrilling sense of adventure – perhaps even more so than the average Target book. All these years later, and “Enemy” really lives up to enough of what my 14-year old imagination conjured up. It has been described by some as James Bond-like, an idea that I struggled with until maybe the third viewing, at which point it came into focus. The scope of the entire thing is global. It takes place in 2018 on an Earth that’s been divided by world government into zones, and the action occurs across several of them, including the story’s primary setting, the Australasian Zone (specifically, Australia).

Of course, the entire thing was made in the U.K., but all factors considered, the serial does a fine job of living up to all the script’s ideas, mostly through clever writing and the diversity of its characters. That perfect first episode, with its mesmerizing location shooting, gives way to a largely studio-bound subsequent five episodes that despite the odds manage to really work. It is deceptively good fare, and though it can feel sprawling and unfocused, the key to getting it, I think, is to really invest in all the characters no matter how seemingly fleeting their appearance. Not everyone is always who they seem, and nearly everyone has a significant role of some sort to play.

Astrid: “Oh, you’re a Doctor?”

The Doctor: “Not of any medical significance.”

Astrid: “A Doctor of law? Philosophy?”

The Doctor: (slyly) “Which law? Whose philosophies, eh?”

The story, as I understand it, was devised due to Patrick Troughton’s desire to stretch his talents a bit, and so here he plays both the hero and the villain (with the two characters only sharing screentime in, literally, the serial’s final moments), a gimmick that works splendidly. Salamander gets a great deal of screentime throughout, and thus the Doctor is never quite as front and center as he normally would be, giving the production a markedly different texture. Making the villain so deviously layered and central to the goings-on is nothing short of a masterstroke, and Troughton slips so wholly into the role it becomes easy to forget it’s the same man who plays the Doctor.

So he excels as this new character, and as the Doctor he’s also got unusually great material to play with. Where his performance just dazzles is in the scenes in which the Doctor is learning to imitate Salamander - not just mastering the thick, Mexican accent, but also adopting his mannerisms, and cultivating the look. Troughton’s performance within his performance (inspired by yet another performance) is a revelation, even by the already impeccably high standards one associates with Troughton’s work on this series. If it weren’t for Peter Capaldi’s casting, this serial would’ve provided the definitive answer to the question, “Who’s the greatest actor to have ever played Doctor Who?”

Jamie and Victoria at CSO Park

But as great a find as “Enemy” is for Troughton fanatics and Who fans in general, it’s also brilliant because it represents the very first work Barry Letts ever did on the series. Here he’s in the director’s chair, and his work on this thing is damn tight and frequently inventive (the editing, however, is sometimes questionable). There’s even a scene set in a park in Episode Two that features that trademark Letts CSO! Moments later, during a scene between Astrid and Denes (George Pravda), which takes place under a disused jetty (“A disused Yeti!?” – The Doctor), watch the way the light ripples off the water, and onto the characters’ faces – all practically done in studio. It’s no wonder he was offered the job of producer just a couple years later based on his immediate understanding of the fabric this serial needed to be made of. Likewise, he assembled an excellent cast - a number of them would return to the series further down the road in different parts. The greatest tragedy of the rediscovery of “The Enemy of the World” is that Barry Letts did not live to see its return to the fans, and to the tapestry of the series which he gave so much of his life to. Looking at it again after all these years, I think he’d have impressed even himself.

There’s a line of the Doctor’s in “The Enemy of the World” that’s entirely emblematic of the BBC’s trashing of all of those episodes of Doctor Who (as well as countless other hours of television) back in the seventies: “People spend all their time making nice things, and then other people come along and break them.” Thankfully, this long thought “broken” serial has been rescued and brought back to us where it belongs. Let’s keep some fingers crossed that these finds aren’t the last. 

This hallway is one of my favorite things in this serial

[1]The Discontinuity Guide – one of the more enjoyable Doctor Who reference guides ever written – takes “Enemy” to task over numerous costuming decisions. Across the board I disagree. The kinky rubber suits have aged beautifully, in a Planet of the Vampires sort of way. And Salamander’s matador getup is bold, crazy and perhaps the precise sort of thing someone who wants to rule the world might think fashionable. (Keep in mind, also, the character is from a Mexico of the future – a future where, perhaps, bullfighting has finally been outlawed, and as such the outfit is more symbolic of his ancestry.) It is irrelevant that someone in “our” world couldn’t realistically pull it off; this is Doctor Who!

Doctor Who: The Web of Fear DVD review

The 50^th Anniversary year of Doctor Who brought all sorts of delightful surprises: A new Doctor in the form of Peter Capaldi, the return of Paul McGann to the role of the Eighth Doctor, and the appearance of Tom Baker in “The Day of the Doctor” are only a few of the big ones that leap directly to mind. However, nothing was more surprising than the revelation of the discovery of two lost serials (minus one episode) at a TV relay station in Nigeria.  We’ve gotten sort of used to single episodes popping up every few years, but entire serials? Not since “The Tomb of the Cybermen” was found in Hong Kong in 1991 has something of that ilk happened, and this time not just one serial, but two (minus one episode)!

And the serials – “The Enemy of the World” and “The Web of Fear” - play consecutively in the Who timeline, making the find all the sweeter, as the former dovetails directly into the latter. Yet the decision has been made to release them on DVD in reverse order (“Enemy” will be out next month), perhaps due to the fact that “Web” is the stronger of the pair. Strong is probably an understatement, as it is tempting to hail “The Web of Fear” as the greatest surviving serial of the Troughton era, if not of the entirety of the ‘60s. Here’s a serial where virtually nothing goes wrong: a tight, engaging script (stretched out over six episodes, no less) from Mervyn Haisman and Henry Lincoln; incredible direction from the always on target Douglas Camfield; seemingly meticulously constructed sets doubling for a deserted London Underground; a flawless cast of layered characters acted to the hilt; hulking robot monsters lurking in the dark; and the introduction of Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart, played by Nicholas Courtney – a true cherry on the cake flourish, even if its significance was completely unintentional at the time.

Professor Travers (Jack Watling) is attacked by a Yeti

After being attacked in outer space, the TARDIS makes a forced landing in contemporary London – in its Underground railway system, which is curiously deserted. The crew – the Doctor (Patrick Troughton), Jamie (Frazer Hines) and Victoria (Deborah Watling) – explore, and eventually encounter the military as well as a surprise meeting with Professor Edward Travers (Jack Watling, father of Debs), whom they recently met in 1935 Tibet, during their first encounter with the Great Intelligence and the Yeti (see “The Abominable Snowmen”). But that was 30 years ago, when Travers was a much younger man. He’s astonished to see that his friends haven’t aged, and as a result now believes in their previous claims of time travel. Soon enough it becomes apparent that the Yeti and the Intelligence are again on the move, only this time the goal turns out to be something very precious to the Doctor indeed.

Anne Travers (Tina Packer) is attacked by a Yeti

As stated above, there are at least a half a dozen reasons this story - as the kids today say - rocks so hard (or maybe it was yesterday they were saying that; I can no longer keep track). We could debate the real standout, but I’m going with the characters and the cast, which operates like gangbusters from the word go. Troughton, who always sets an impeccably high standard, is seemingly working on an even higher level than usual. For someone who grew up only knowing Troughton’s era as the extant material of the frequently subpar Season Six, to have been able to see more of these earlier adventures come together over the years – particularly all this Season Five material – is something of a revelation, perhaps never more so than here.

These soldiers and Jamie *might* be attacked by these Yeti

Travers, and the disconnect he feels with the time travelers – surely this was the first time the series had ever pulled such a maneuver? To introduce a character, and then reintroduce him a few stories later as an old man? What a wonderful idea! And his daughter, Anne, played so perfectly by Tina Packer, is a great example of the series getting feminism right before it was even a huge issue (“When I was a little girl, I thought I’d like to be a scientist, so I became a scientist.”) Her character demonstrates that the show was more than capable of drawing strong women. Each soldier has a distinct personality, but my favorite (so to speak) is Driver Evans (Derek Pollitt), who has the sort of persona that emerges when a dozen people are locked in a room together, and everyone agrees on the one person to unanimously dislike. He’s a thoroughly cowardly, awful human being that fails to rise to any occasion, and Pollitt’s performance is a hoot.

Writers Haisman and Lincoln had a big falling out with the series over their Season Six script “The Dominators,” which is such a shame, as “The Web of Fear” appears to set up a third and perhaps final showdown between the Doctor and the Intelligence. Alas, we’d have to wait until Christmas of 2012 to see the entity return to our screens in “The Snowmen,” which never comes close to matching a serial like “Web” for fun and scares. Indeed, the highest praise I can offer “Web” is that it often feels like a Hammer production of some kind. Speaking of “The Snowmen,” I found this tidbit (along with the accompanying JPEG) while looking around for information on “Web.” I wonder what happened there? Were the leaked plans abandoned? If so, what a shame, because “The Snowmen” would’ve been ten times better if they’d actually brought back the Abominable Snowmen.

Normally, at this point there’d be a lengthy section of this review devoted to all the bonus features, but alas, this DVD is sadly bare bones, sans a trailer for “The Enemy of the World.” I’ve read numerous behind the scenes reasons as to why no extras were produced, but first and foremost the reason would be that it would have taken probably a year to produce those extras, and I’m sure it was felt that the sooner the DVDs were released, the better. As you no doubt know, these episodes were released all over the world on iTunes in November. In the U.K., “Enemy” followed on DVD later that month, while they held off on “Web” until February. Now we’re getting both of them. Maybe someday there will be special editions, but as I understand it there are certainly no current plans to do so, since the classic Who DVD range is winding down. Indeed, after “Enemy” next month, to the best of my knowledge the only title left to release is “The Underwater Menace,” which has been held up for various reasons that are entirely outside of my sphere of knowing, but hopefully we’ll get it some time this year.

Having made excuses for the BBC, now it’s my turn: As magical as it is to finally have these episodes, thought lost forever, it’s equally horrible for them to be accompanied by…nothing. Again, we’re used to a standard with these discs, and one can only say, “Well, at least we have the episodes!” for so long, before one wants a commentary track with Frazer and Debbie, or a documentary about the making of the serial, or a photo gallery, or production notes subtitles, or freakin’ Toby Hadoke, for chrissake! For most of us who’ve been partaking in the classic Who DVD experience for the past 13 years, these features have become as much a part of classic Who as the serials themselves. And it is nothing less than a tragedy that Episode Three was not recreated using proper animation, which is now the accepted standard. For a serial of this importance to be the one that we’re left with only a reconstructed episode of…just kills me. On the plus side, the episodes look magnificent – truly, they do - some of the best looking episodes of black and white Who I’ve ever seen. Here they’ve been given the VidFIRE treatment, which seems to be the only major difference between this disc and the iTunes versions.

As I wrote this article, I got a message from a friend who told me there’s some kind of internet flamewar going on involving megafan Ian Levine accusing Phillip Morris (the guy who found both “Enemy” and “Web”) of hoarding episodes, and that there are plenty more out there that are being sat on. So who knows? Maybe these two serials aren’t the end of the great missing episode find. Please, fates, before I die let my most wanted serial be found, because right now I’m declaring the last frames of Episode Six of “The Web of Fear” the most depressing Doctor Who in existence. As the serial winds down, it’s like a punch to the gut:

Doctor Who: The Time of the Doctor Blu-ray review

Should read: "As endured on BBC America"

At Christmas, I was not a particularly happy Whovian - in direct contrast to the excitable boy I’d been back in November during the 50th Anniversary celebrations. How could Steven Moffat pen one of his greatest episodes of Doctor Who, only to follow it with one of his worst? And as the grand finale to an entire era of the series, no less? My recap for Vulture was pretty scathing, yet, believe it or not, I held back a bit for fear of coming across like a crazed, fanboy lunatic. I quickly discovered, though, through the comments section of the recap, other online commentaries, and simply chatting with friends in person and on Facebook, that I wasn’t alone: “The Time of the Doctor” appeared divisive even by often divided modern Who standards, and folks normally given to an open-minded approach to the current series were having difficulties accepting that this jumbled, frenetic mess was indeed the last hurrah for Matt Smith’s Eleventh Doctor.

Fast forward two months, at which point I received a review copy of the Blu-ray disc. I had only viewed the episode once back on Christmas night, as once felt painful enough (never before have I been so quick to delete an episode of Who off the DVR). So, with a fair amount of trepidation, I put on the Blu-ray and gave it another spin, in an attempt to see it with fresh eyes. My reaction this time around was not one of crushing disappointment for the material. Such a reaction can easily manifest itself in a word like hate, as in “I hated that episode so much!” Truth is, I’ve never truly hated an episode of Doctor Who, probably because hate is so not what the show is about. And this second viewing revealed that “The Time of the Doctor” wasn’t much different than all the “Silver Nemeses” and “Underworlds” that came before it. “Time” is an episode overflowing with so much good will, that hate was no longer on the table. (This does not mean I suddenly fell in love with it.) More on this later.

"You're in for a *big* surprise!"

One might think that unrealistic expectations for “Time” played a part in my initial reaction, but that wasn’t at all the case. In fact, if anything, some of that reaction had to do with fears being realized. When it was announced last summer that Smith would be leaving at Christmas, it was disheartening. We hadn’t even seen the 50^th yet, and Matt was now due to exit the TARDIS a month later. The game-changing “The Name of the Doctor” had just aired a few weeks earlier – an episode which felt as though big things were in store for Eleven. Everything seemed to be happening so fast in comparison to the exits of previous Doctors. Tennant had a lengthy series of four specials built around his exit, which culminated in a nearly two and a half hour, two-part send-off. This smacked of suddenness, reminiscent of Eccleston’s hasty exit from the series.

When November rolled around, and “The Day of the Doctor” was finally unveiled, sure enough – nothing in that monumental episode’s narrative indicated that the following episode would be the fall of the Eleventh. Quite the contrary, it ends with a Doctor who has a renewed sense of purpose. It seems obvious in hindsight, to me at least, that somewhere after shooting “Day,” during the 4 month break he took before shooting “Time,” Matt decided to leave the show, for whatever reasons. Who knows what they were? We may never find out. I know that conventional wisdom and logic dictates that these things are planned out far in advance, but if that had been the case, then why did Steven Moffat do such a sloppy job of dramatizing Matt’s exit, especially given the care that had clearly gone into the previous two episodes?

The script is as clumsy as this Cyberman

“The Time of the Doctor” feels hastily written, as though boxes are being ticked off, one by one, from one scene to the next. It’s not organic like the very best Steven Moffat writing is. Even Moffat-penned episodes that I don’t much care for are put together with considerably more thought than this. It’s like an entire season has been squished into a single episode – as if Moffat had very definite long term plans (or at least plans that extended to another season) for the Eleventh Doctor that were cut short, but he had to execute them anyway, in order to complete his vision. (For instance, he must have known for some time – perhaps since creating the War Doctor – that he would address the 13-incarnation limit at the close of Matt’s tenure.) Because I can maybe imagine a version of these events that play out over a season, and it feels more dramatically right. Maybe a town called Christmas would’ve been involved, but likely not…which brings me to another issue.

Christmas - not just the town, but the holiday, and the now ubiquitous Christmas specials. It wouldn’t be sporting to call for an end to the annual special (though it feels like the areas in which it can be taken have run their course), but please, for the love of all that is Gallifreyan, can we never again have the Doctor regenerate at Christmas? A regeneration episode should be a dangerous, difficult scenario infused with all manner of gravitas – not the treacly sort of sentimentality this was made up of. (RTD at least had the good sense to wait a week and regenerate him on New Year’s Day.) But a holiday regeneration? Never again, I say! This further underscores my above theories, which, it should be reiterated, is all they are - theories and speculation: Moffat must have begrudgingly settled on this, as I simply cannot believe that his plan all along was to have the Doctor end his regeneration cycle at Christmas. Indeed, the town called Christmas feels entirely at odds with everything concerning the doom-laden Trenzalore that was set up in “Name.”

"My turkey isn't the only thing half-baked here..."

So, either some version of the events I’ve laid out above is true, or Steven Moffat is the most incompetent dramatist in the kingdom. Now I’ve had my issues with the Moff here and there over the years, but never has my opinion of his talents changed: He is one of the best and smartest TV writers working today, which is why I must believe something along the lines of what I’ve laid out above is closer to the truth than accepting that the events as they went down in “Time” were his plan all along. It simply makes no narrative sense whatsoever, given what came before in the previous two installments.

Having gotten all of that off my chest, let’s go back to my minor reappraisal of the episode. What struck me as worthy on the second viewing was the emotion of it all, which is pretty sound. And I do believe that for a substantial portion of the viewing audience, the emotions and feelings of the series are amongst its strongest attributes, hence the reason it worked for about half the people who tuned in. Another thing that I was pretty blinded to on the first viewing was Matt’s performance, which is pretty great, especially given all the different stages of his Doctor’s life he has to wade through. I don’t think it’s the best work of his tenure by a long shot, but given the frequently subpar material he has to work with here, it’s a touching showing on his part. “The Time of the Doctor” is essentially a “Greatest Hits” package, and like all such collections, it can please in the short term on its own, but is ultimately hollow, and shown up by the bigger picture of everything that led up to it.

For me, Matt Smith’s time as the Doctor will always end with him surrounded by all of his previous selves, eagerly moving forward into a bold new direction that’s promise will hopefully be fulfilled by Moffat as we enter the Peter Capaldi era of the series later this year.

The Doctor carts around what's likely the remains of a human head for hundreds of years

Blu-ray Extras: In addition to the main program, there’s a touching “Behind the Lens” piece that runs about 13 minutes - a making-of that includes bits from the heartrending final table read, as well as the cast and crew saying goodbye to Matt on set. It will tug at your heartstrings, perhaps even more so than the episode proper. Also present are two, 45-minute BBC America-produced docs: “Tales from the TARDIS,” which features interviews with most of the previous living Doctors; and “Farewell to Matt Smith,” which is something of an overview of his era. All in all, a decent package given the asking price, and if, like me, you’re not a fan of the episode, there are at least these bonus goodies to justify the purchase.

Doctor Who: The Tenth Planet & The Moonbase DVD reviews

UPDATED!!!

What, in the here and now, is potentially intriguing about the DVD releases of “The Tenth Planet” and “The Moobase” is that the amount of time between their R1 DVD release dates is nearly identical to the amount of time that lapsed in between their original airings on the BBC. “The Tenth Planet” aired throughout October of 1966 and was released on DVD in November of 2013; “The Moonbase” aired throughout February and March of ’67, and its DVD arrives on February 11^th, 2014, exactly 47 years to the day of the airing of its first episode. It’s unlikely that this was someone’s plan (the R2 release dates are slightly different), but it is a sweet bit of serendipity regardless, especially for those who picked up and viewed “The Tenth Planet” last year, and intend to buy and watch “The Moonbase” now.

Why? Because the tales are nothing if not two sides of the same coin – the latter installment being something of a remake of the former – and viewed back-to-back they sort of exemplify some of the changes Doctor Who was going through at the time. It’s cool to be able to compare and contrast the two stories, and attempt to look at them with the same sort of eyes that viewers back in ’66 and ’67 had, given that most of us are experiencing the two stories, with their animated reconstructions, closer to their original visions than ever before. Now before going further let’s lay it out on the table: neither story is a true classic (though each has its virtues), and calling them flawed is probably being generous. For a truly successful Cybertale, it would be “third time’s a charm,” with “The Tomb of the Cybermen,” later on in ’67.

“The Tenth Planet” plot: The TARDIS materializes at the South Pole in the year 1986, where the crew - The Doctor (William Hartnell), Polly (Anneke Wills) and Ben (Michael Craze) - happen upon a space tracking station called Snowcap, staffed by an international crew of characters, and led by the Ripper-esque General Cutler (every time he obsesses on his son, just think “precious bodily fluids”). Snowcap is monitoring the launch of an Earth spaceship (which is where the son is) when they discover a new planet that looks suspiciously like Earth. A craft from the planet arrives, bringing to our world, for the first time, the Cybermen (why did they head for the South Pole?), who intend to drain all of Earth’s power for their dying planet Mondas, and convert the populace into more Cybermen. In the midst of everything, the Doctor appears to be growing weaker and weaker…

“The Moonbase” plot: The TARDIS materializes on the Moon in the year 2070, where the crew – The Doctor (Patrick Troughton), Polly, Ben, and new TARDIS crewmember Jamie (Frazer Hines) – happen upon a weather control station called the Moonbase, staffed by an international crew of characters, and led by the considerably less insane Hobson (compared to Cutler, anyway). The center of the Moonbase is the Gravitron, which controls Earth’s weather. Meanwhile, some Moonbase crewmembers are afflicted with a peculiar virus, and soon enough, victims of the illness go missing. The Cybermen are back, this time with the intention of using the Gravitron to destroy all life on Earth.

As you can probably see, the story constructs are similar, even if some of the details are slightly different. Further, the Snowcap/Moonbase interiors and South Pole/Moon exteriors also add to the mounting textural resemblances, and of course, the villains are the same in name, even if not in appearance, which is probably what makes the two stories most easy to compare. The “base under siege” plot, as it is often referred to, would become a standard of the Troughton era, so it’s also worth noting that these two tales are probably the earliest examples of the formula.   

“The Tenth Planet” is rife with problems. It lurches from one episode to the next, changing tone every step of the way. The international cast of characters is riddled with stereotypes and clichés (though one must give the serial props for featuring a black astronaut played by Earl Cameron). William Hartnell is ill enough at this point that not only is his failing health written into the script, but he also disappears for the entirety of Episode Three. When I think of “The Tenth Planet,” the singular aspect that makes the story truly worthy (besides the fact that it features the first regeneration) is the Cybermen. 

These Cybermen are unlike any others that came after them, and one wonders what the villains might look like today if they hadn’t been redesigned for “The Moonbase” just a few months later. People often describe their vocal inflections as “sing song,” which I suppose is pretty apt, though I would argue that they really sort of defy description. Perhaps it is because I’m so much more familiar with every other incarnation of the Cybermen, that these are so unsettling. These cats are some of the weirdest Doctor Who villains in the history of the series. Episode Two here is very good. It gives ample screen time to both the Cybermen and the Doctor, and is probably Hartnell’s final great work on the series, as he has less to do in the fourth episode – which is also the only episode of this serial that’s missing.

“The Moonbase” improves upon some of the problems from the first serial. First and foremost, in the form of Patrick Troughton, it has an energetic, able-bodied and minded leading man, which of course makes a huge difference. There are lovely, inspired sequences set on the lunar surface, featuring both Cybermen and TARDIS crew (though the latter sequence, from Episode One, ends up animated). As this serial was devised prior to Jamie joining the crew, he is jammed into the narrative and injured in the first episode and doesn’t return to form until the final episode. Still, Jamie’s injury leads to one of the more wonderful flourishes of “The Moonbase,” and that’s his perception of a Cyberman as the “phantom piper,” coming to take Jamie off to the land of the dead. It’s neat to see the far less experienced McCrimmon at this stage of the game. “The Moonbase” is surely the better story of the two, but I would still argue that, at least from a historical standpoint, they’re stronger as a double feature than apart. Neil Gaiman might disagree, as it seemed clear that his “Nightmare in Silver” was heavily-influenced by the horror of watching “The Moonbase” as a child.

As previously mentioned, both stories remain incomplete in the BBC archives, so animation has once again come to the rescue, with “The Tenth Planet” Episode Four, and “The Moonbase” Episodes One and Three being given the treatment. After the less than stellar animation style used for “The Ice Warriors,” I was happy to see that the methods used for each of these stories were much closer to the artiness of “The Reign of Terror.”

UPDATED (02/26/2014): It’s been revealed, since I wrote this review, that the R1 version of “The Moonbase” has a pretty serious mastering error, and as a result the episodes run about a minute longer than they should. The problem has also resulted in the eradication of the VidFire process. I wish I could say I’d taken note of this when I was viewing the disc, but I did not. I did, as I recall, at one point wonder why the episodes were so long, but it was days before I was headed out to Gallifrey One, and I wanted to get this review up before I left, so I didn’t give it much thought.

This is, of course, terrible news, and there’s been no talk of a recall or replacement discs…however, the good news is that I watched the entire story and didn’t even notice. 50% of “The Moonbase” is animated, so the VidFire is irrelevant on those episodes anyway. So if you already own the old Lost in Time DVD set, which contains the VidFired episodes 2 & 4, perhaps with that, alongside the two animated episodes here, you, the fan, can sort of try to make it all work.

So take all of that for whatever it’s worth. I know that for the hardcore collector, this is not a pleasing development, and certainly something that doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense as we near the end of the classic series DVD range. Further, this tidbit about missing credits on the disc was revealed today. Sure seems like “The Moonbase” DVD could do with a do-over for all parties involved. If I find out anything more, I'll update this space again.

   

DVD Extras: The double-disc set of “The Tenth Planet” doesn’t skimp on the extras, so even if the story is a bit of a letdown, there’s plenty of other stuff here to keep the hardcore fan entertained. A revolving commentary track for the first three episodes is moderated by Toby Hadoke and features actors Anneke Wills, Christopher Matthews (Radar Technician), Gregg Palmer (Cybermen), Earl Cameron (Williams), Alan White (Schultz), and production designer Peter Kindred. “Frozen Out” is a half-hour making of – fascinating warts and all, including some talk of Hartnell’s alleged racism. In addition to the animated Episode Four, there’s also the reconstructed version from the VHS tape. Far and away the most exciting and memorable extra here in also the shortest – and that’s the three-minute interview with Hartnell, conducted after he’d left Who, in the dressing room of a theatre, while he applies makeup in the mirror. He’s irritable, yes, but what is surprising about it, I think, is how alert Hartnell is. The signs of his failing health are nowhere to be seen, and it’s easy to simply savor every single second of it, since it’s the only on-camera interview with Hartnell I guess we’ll ever see.

But wait! There’s more. Another installment of “Doctor Who Stories,” this time with Anneke Wills, is always a welcome addition. “The Golden Age” seeks to examine the “myth” of the golden age of Doctor Who. “Boys! Boys! Boys!” is an answer to the previous multi-part featurette “Girls! Girls! Girls!,” which featured on a trio of previous DVDs. This one features Peter Purves, Frazer Hines, and Mark Strickson.  “Companion Piece” lives up to its title by examining the role of the companion. There’s a 9-minute clip from Blue Peter, which was celebrating the Tenth anniversary of Who at the time of its broadcast. It is in this clip that the only surviving footage of Episode Four exists – the regeneration scene. Finally there’s a photo gallery, Radio Times listings in PDF form, the production notes subtitle option, and a coming soon trailer for “The Moonbase.”

Speaking of, “The Moonbase,” on only a single disc, is much lighter in the extras department. There’s audio commentary for the extant episodes (2 & 4) again moderated by Hadoke, and again with Anneke Wills, as well as Frazer Hines, actor Edward Phillips, and special sounds creator Brian Hodgson. The animated episodes (1 & 3) feature interviews with writer Kit Pedler’s daughters, as well as archive interviews with producer Innes Lloyd, assistant floor manager Lovett Bickford, and a trio of Cyber-actors. “Lunar Landing” is a serviceable making of doc, and the disc is rounded out with the usual photo gallery, Radio Times listings, production note subtitle option, and a coming soon trailer for “The Underwater Menace,” which may not be coming all that soon after all (but I would hope before the end of the year). 

Dallas: The Complete Second Season DVD review

The second season of Dallas is also available to stream on Netflix.

It’s not often that one can discuss and even recommend an entire season of a television series because of a single episode, which sort of goes to show how special of a TV series Dallas (in any incarnation) really is. But episode 8 of this second helping of the rejiggered soap juggernaut, entitled “J.R.’s Masterpiece,” is such a fascinating slice of TV, from both sides of the camera, that it makes this season must-see.

When Larry Hagman lost his battle with cancer at the age of 81, on Nov. 23rd, 2012, Dallas was smack in the middle of shooting its second season – a season that had already been planned and plotted out through to the end, much of it involving J.R. Indeed, J.R.’s machinations were as essential to the show now as they were back in its ‘80s heyday, and likewise, Hagman was just as committed to the series as ever, and was working on it as recently as four days prior to his passing.

Yes, Dallas is a special series, and J.R. Ewing was more than “just” a TV character (as Hagman was so much more than just an actor). It could be said that J.R. Ewing is the greatest or most important TV character ever created, and few would argue. J.R.’s sudden absence could not simply be explained away with a few lines of dialogue, so showrunner Cynthia Cidre and her cohorts went in a direction that few shows would (or even could) if similar circumstances afflicted their production, and not just devoted an entire episode to celebrating J.R., but also structured an entire mystery that rippled throughout the remainder of the season: “Who Killed J.R.?”

But back to “J.R’s Masterpiece,” which lives up to its title and instantly leaps onto the list of seminal, cornerstone Dallas episodes. In the final moments of the episode prior to it (“The Furious and the Fast”), thanks to slick editing and a bit of CGI mixed with leftover footage of Hagman, J.R. meets his untimely demise. “Masterpiece” traces the Ewing clan traveling to Mexico where the deed occurred, in an effort to learn more of the mysterious goings-on, as well as indentify the body. Does Carlos Del Sol know more than he’s letting on? The body is taken back to Dallas, where a public wake and a private funeral – which together make up the meatiest portions of the episode – are held.

The wake is a lively affair, with numerous faces from days of Dallas past making appearances alongside real life Dallas (the city, not the show) icons, like Jerry Jones and Mark Cuban, playing themselves. Then the fun is put into funeral with the unceremonious arrival of Cliff Barnes (Ken Kercheval), which leads to a classic, if not slightly abbreviated, Dallas brawl. By contrast, the funeral held at Southfork, is a somber affair, in which family members take turns telling stories and remembrances of J.R. After the funeral comes the twist, which I won’t go into here, because it’s what gives the rest of the season so much of its heft.

What is ultimately so moving about “J.R.’s Masterpiece” is its clever and careful melding of fiction and reality (the altered opening credits sequence alone will move you to silence). It was shot in January of 2013, less than two months after Hagman’s passing. The emotions on display from much of the cast are very real, contemplative, and raw. Linda Gray and Patrick Duffy in particular give some of the very best work of their Dallas careers here. I’m not sure if there’s ever been an episode of TV quite like this, and of those shows that have celebrated an actor’s passing through the demise of the fictitious character they played (the recent episode of Glee that dealt with Cory Monteith’s passing through Finn’s death leaps instantly to mind), few have done it with such class and grace as what Cidre (who wrote the episode) and executive producer Michael S. Robin (who directed it) have achieved here.

Further, “J.R.’s Masterpiece” isn’t just a hermetically sealed one-off. No, what happens in this episode goes on to inform and shape the remainder of the season – Cidre and her team came together to reformat the ongoing plot in order to honor J.R.’s larger than life legacy. While the mystery of “Who killed J.R.?” was certainly not the cultural touchstone its infamous forefather, “Who shot J.R.?,” was, there’s no question that it’s an engaging storyline with a befitting series of endings that culminate in the season finale, “Legacies.” No doubt, Hagman would be tickled pink to know what went down with the remainder of this season of Dallas in his absence.

Of course, there are 14 other episodes on this set (6 or 7 of which feature Hagman prominently, doing the final work of his career). This season, with the success of the first season behind it, fires on all cylinders, despite the behind the scenes turmoil, and the loss of its patriarchal figure. It moves at an almost breakneck pace, offering up one episodic cliffhanger after the next, miring its large cast of characters in the stickiest of situations. What blows me away the most about it, is that even with Hagman sadly gone, I can think of no solid reason to shut this series down, any more so than the original series should’ve shut down over the passing of Jim Davis. This version of Dallas could conceivably go for many more years, such is the sprawling, devious cast of new characters Cidre has brought to life, as well as the nerve-rattling situations she so often places them in. Fine, fine TV, and the rowdiest, most riveting nighttime soap on TV today, just as the original Dallas was in its day.

DVD Extras: “J.R’s Masterpiece” gets an optional extended cut, which runs about 7 minutes longer than the TV cut. To watch it, you must go into the special features menu to activate it. Also present is a commentary track for the extended cut with Cidre and Robin, in which they detail the effects of Hagman’s death on the cast and crew, creating the episode, and how they had to rearrange the entire season - unquestionably illuminating, and much more interesting than your standard, run of the mill TV episode commentary.  

There are at least a half dozen installments of an ongoing series called “Dallas: Fashion Files” which feature costume designer Rachel Sage Kunin discussing her many decisions throughout the season (typically alongside Jordana Brewster). “Dallas at PaleyFest 2013” is a 30-minute panel discussion with the core cast, sans Hagman, as he was already gone. Three more featurettes: “The Battle for Ewing Energies: Blood is Thicker Than Oil” is a sort of season overview; “Memories of Larry Hagman: A Cast and Crew Tribute” is self-explanatory; and “One Last Conversation with Larry Hagman” appears to date back to the first season. Lastly, there are roughly 33 minutes worth of deleted scenes scattered across the four discs.

Special thanks to Harry Thomas of MySA’s DVD Extra blog for passing his copy of this DVD set my way.

Doctor Who: The Time of the Doctor

You know that maxim that says the third movie in a trilogy will suck? It’s not a hard and fast rule, as there are plenty of movies that buck it, but likewise there are enough failures to justify the coining of the rule in the first place. I thought of that rule often while watching “The Time of the Doctor,” which, after the exhilarating one-two punch of “The Name of the Doctor” and “The Day of the Doctor,” was a letdown of, I dare suggest, epic proportions. Ambitious to a fault, it never achieves the grandeur of the previous two “… of the Doctor” episodes, though it appears hell bent on outdoing both as hard as it possibly can. And you know what they say about trying hard — actually, I’m not sure, but it must be something awful. I’ll stop short of describing the episode as just that, because there was some nice stuff nestled in between all the loud, incomprehensible bits, which were countless.

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