Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts

The Lost.



TV Fucks sake. Eight episodes of this woefully middling series (I've come to the conclusion I was initially too kind to Class) and now we're treated to one of the most pat reveals since the cliffhanger ending of the first episode of every old Who story with Dalek in the title. The Weeping Angels. Well, gee. Perhaps its for the best that this "arrival" business hasn't been hinted at for the whole series because then we really might have felt let down.  Then again, I still feel let down even though we were only made aware of it about half an hour before they emerged.  True, it's hard to think of another monster which might have had more currency, the Voord perhaps, but there's something really quite disappointing about having to sit through one of those scenes which is supposed to be some ruddy great revelation and then be reintroduced to a foe which has gone past the point of having made their point.

Who are these governors?  Cyril Nri is obviously not supposed to be reprising his shopkeeper role from The Sarah Jane Adventures, mores the pity, but as it goes so far they are incredibly dull, which means they're not some part of the Faction Paradox or breakaway wing of the Time Lords.  One of the key decisions taken in the Buffyverse has been to not entirely introduce its audience to the senior partners at W R & H, which has kept them deliciously mysterious.  Giving this lot a face and dress sense automatically diminishes them as does their astonishingly cliched if beautifully photographed locale.  In an episode already overstuffed, we're also being asked to care about yet another thing which isn't even in the expositional orbit of most of the main characters other than in a vague sense of the headmistress knowing some things.

Gah.  I'm cross.  Once again, Class fails to tip over into Torchwood's Miracle Day levels of awfulness, settling once again into being, yeah, it's OK.  You're not missing much if you don't watch it, and it has enough decent things in it if you're patient enough, but, shrug.  Rubbish without being downright awful.  The Lost is the epitome of what's been wrong with the whole series.  To repeat:  not enough time given over to making us care about the characters in a series which feels like a much longer stream of episode reduced to just the instalments focused on the main story arc.  Despite the revelation, a show set in the Doctor Who universe which largely ignores the benefits of that.  A lack of clear direction as to what the show is supposed to be having entirely ignored its initial mission statement of being about a group of precarious friends fighting whatever drops through the rifts in time.

Which isn't to say that bits of The Lost aren't just plain mediocre.  The opening teaser montage is frankly godawful, April's sub-Corrs dirge overpowering what should be some huge character beats in a way which suggests that we're watching the truncation of a much longer opening.  The unusual cynical motivating factor of parental murder.  Some of the performance histrionics are incredibly hard to take.  Even taking into the account the fact that people react to grief in different ways, crying simply isn't some actors forte notably when it reaches retching levels, especially when said actors range has otherwise extended to scowls and sarcasm.  The relationship scenes between characters are often rudimentary at best, lacking any sense of wit or reflection of real characters having believable emotions.

Despite the murders, budget limitations simply won't allow for the threat of the Shadow army on the populace to be properly extenuated.  Exactly how far this threat has spread isn't properly extenuated.  We're probably supposed to assume globally but this leads us to wonder why UNIT aren't dealing with all of this, or the remnants of Torchwood or the Attic Team or, well, you get the idea.  Given the level of danger involved, someone would and should have called the Doctor by now and here we are again with the shared universe problem.  It simply doesn't make sense for these teenagers to be left dealing with this threat in the manner with with the Doctor did, our suspension of disbelief unearned and the lack of any reference to him, even in the negative, at this moment, is frankly bizarre.  At least those other series have the good grace to try and explain his absence.

If there are any positives they're because Katherine Kelly has been perfectly cast even though she's now being hampered by a mystical pregnancy.  The all too brief training scenes between Quill and Tanya hint at a series which allows its characters to breath and simply enjoy one another's company, with such things working as a b-plot contrast to whatever the a-plot monster is.  You also can't argue with the show's impressive diversity, with not a single white cis male in sight; at a time when people who look like me even if they're nothing like me are in their racist ascendancy, it's genuinely important to have shows which represent the world as is could and should be and often is rather than pandering to the Caucasian patriarchal norm.  Much as I enjoyed 10 Cloverfield Lane last night, there's absolutely no reason why any or all of those three characters had to be from the same racial origin.

But none of this is enough.  The writer clearly wants us to be invested in the implications of opening the box and wreaking genocide on the shadows and there was some attempts at foreshadowing the moral dilemma in previous episodes but there's a reason why "Have I the right" works in Genesis.  The Doctor is an extremely moral person being asked to do a horrifying thing.  Here the Prince is essentially fighting against a mountain of selfish reasons not to.  He's already decided he has every right but numerous artificial narrative blocks are what's stopping him.  That makes him less than heroic - the script wants us to empathise with him even though he's generally come across as being a self-indulgent arsehole.  After a while it becomes actively annoying that he keeps delaying the inevitable, a blessed relief when he finally shoots Chekhov's gun.

Similarly we should feel something about the death of April.  But it's a female character suiciding herself so that a male character can do the heroic thing (even if, as we've discussed ...) which along with Quill's pregnancy somewhat undermines the show's otherwise "woke" qualities.  Plus since she is only one of the two younger female leads we have to know that she'll be brought back should the show be recommissioned.  And it's a cue for some more of that distracting histrionic acting.  Then having her resurrected in the body of the actual shadow king, whilst pleasingly bonkers in the Chibnallian sense, will obviously be resolved via some magic or other - transferring herself back into her own body, simply ending up there due to some undiscovered mental trap door or an external intervention.

There's a weird arrogance to all of this.  Class thinks its getting another series doesn't it?  Have they already been recomissioned thanks to the injection of cash from international investors?  BBC America have delayed broadcast which isn't a great sign and apparently the first couple of the episodes of the show didn't reach the top 50 on the iPlayer which means it's being watched by less than 185,000 viewers which given the first one has the Doctor's lengthy cameo, the lead character in what's supposed to be one of the cornerstones of BBC One's schedule over the Christmas and in the new year, something isn't working.  As I've said before, it's either poor advertising, a lack of interest from the people who should be, or the show not being good enough for people to want to recommend it to others.

Class will be on the iPlayer for another eleven months and there's still the television broadcast to come.  Perhaps it will find an audience now that it's entirely available to be binged through.  A second series could potentially be a better prospect.  Perhaps having run off most of the unrelatable backstory now, he'll allow his characters to become more likeable, less ambiguous.  The elements are here and if the intention is to embrace more qualities of the key mythology, that at least could make it feel essential, especially if they have any significance within the main series.  As it stands Class is a failed experiment, a self-defeating rudderless concoction presenting itself as a Doctor Who spin-off which for the most part is nothing of the sort.  Can you imagine if this doesn't get a second series?  What a stupid way to end things.

The Metaphysical Engine, or What Quill Did.



TV Last night in an idle moment, I straw polled social media: "How many of you have watched the Doctor Who spin-off Class? It seems to have generated almost zero buzz." The answers were pretty much as expected. No one is watching it. It's not something that really interested them and because they've not heard amazing things about it have stuck to that decision.  Some of these people are long term Doctor Who fans who you'd think would watch anything televised set in the Whoniverse and yet, even though this thing is free and available on demand they simply can't be bothered.

No one is talking about it.  Granted my Twitter feed is currently top heavy with people fearing the upcoming apocalypse emanated from across the Atlantic or how there isn't a satisfactory political  opposition in the UK for various reasons. But despite me also following loads of Who fans etc about the only person who bothers to tweet about Class is Patrick Ness himself, excitedly dropping trivia about the making of an episode but despite having 47.5k followers his tweets rarely receive replies and often from people who've either never seen the thing or want to offer some disparaging remarks.

It'd be useless trying to explain why that is beyond the show itself not being good enough for people to want to recommend it and create some word of mouth.  It's rarely in the top ten on iPlayer and official figures haven't been released yet.  Perhaps this will change with a tv broadcast, we are in uncharted waters in terms of how the show's being released, albeit for a public broadcaster (Netflix and Amazon have weekly shows too).  But this has the stench of failure that really shouldn't be the case with something that has the Who brand.  People even watched Torchwood's Miracle Day.

The commentary I've managed to ferret out for The Metaphysical Engine is that it's the best of the series mostly because the annoying kids aren't in it and isn't that problem when they're supposed to be the focus of the series?  Well, yes it is.  I don't necessarily agree, the kids can be quite entertaining when they're not being quite so horrible to each other and crack a few jokes, but it's fair to say Quill has been the saving grace of the series thanks to Katherine Kelly's acidic delivery and Chaplineque body language.

If the episode works at all, it's because Ness effectively decides to write one of those questing Doctor Who stories with numerous locales ala The Keys of Marinus, The Key To Time or Seasons of Fear, with its own Time Lord figure in Headmistress Dorothea flying a dimensionally transcendental travelling machine through the kinds of metaphysical realities which used to be found in Eighth Doctor novels instead of the usual alien worlds.   Such stories have the added element of mystery or what this new locale is and what they'll find there.

Pitching up in other people's belief systems and afterlife is novel and the execution, especially of the Arn, atmospheric, helped immeasurably by Wayne Yip's cinematic direction taking advantage of the landscape (Yip's previous work includes Misfits which suggests why he might have got this gig).  He also really knows how to seek out and take advantage of the micro expressions in Kelly's face, the side eye, the upwards motions of the side of her mouth, her seemingly telekinetic ability to control her hair.  Every close up is compelling, especially when she's at rest.

Plus the idea of telling a side story which explains where a character who was otherwise absent in the previous episode is pretty novel even if it decided to simply re-use material from last week rather than reshoot those scenes from completely Quill's POV.  The old BBC Books novel The Face of the Enemy offered a similar idea, with the Master filling in while the Third Doctor and Jo were off experiencing The Curse of Peladon.  That also featured Ian and Barbara and Osgood's Dad.  If only Class embraced the Who mythology with that kind of abandon.

So why did I literally nod off in places other than not being able to drink caffeine for medical reasons and my anti-depressants making me drowsy at inopportune moments?  Bluntly, it's because there's not a lot to care about.  I didn't empathise at all with Quill's quest; hers and Charlie's backstory is c-grade generic Star Trek material at best lacking the necessary foothold in human reality (RTD's Zog problem writ large) and, I suspect, due to the slender running time of the series we simply haven't had time to really get to know her character to the point of wanting her to succeed.

The long conversations about the nature of being a warrior are fine, and well played, but in identification terms they're a step too far for most of us, I suspect.  The stakes are counter intuitive.  We're being asked to cheer on someone attempting to return to her default setting of killing machine which is subconsciously a bit of a no-no.  At least when Spike had his chip removed in Buffy, having already marked himself out as a beloved character, we pretty much went with him, right up to the point where he gained his soul.

It's just all so blah.  Not awful, pretty watchable.  It's competently written, so there's nothing to get angry about as I did through Torchwood.  I can barely build up the anger to shout about Quill being subjected to a cross between a mystical pregnancy and "bun in the oven" syndrome which is pretty objectionable not least because there's a whole raft of questions about how intercourse works between two unrelated species pretending to be human and what the results of that might be.  If the viewer's left asking such obstetrical questions at the end of an episode like that, something isn't right.

Detained.



TV "A mixed reaction so far then." The parish circular's letters page this month is almost completely filled with reader commentary on Class, mainly the first three episodes and it's fair to say that as often the case with the mains series, the first impressions run from very positive to utter despair. The general consensus is that it isn't as good as either SJA, Torchwood or its obvious source Buffy The Vampire Slayer, barely feels like it's set in the Doctor Who universe, runs a bit rote and generic, all criticisms which even appear to an extent in one of the positive reviews, albeit to give the writer something to defend against.  It's notable that DWM itself isn't carrying reviews of individual episodes, although that was also true of the other spin-offs which in some cases even waited until a shiny disc release.  Perhaps they've decided to wait until the television broadcast.

Here we are at episode six so it's about time to grab the confession stone and say how I'm really feeling about the show.  Despite being relatively positive about the first three episodes, the subsequent two parter simply didn't work for me and numerous problems are piling up in the negative column.  Apart from Tanya and Quill, I simply don't like any of the characters enough to make the emotional connection of wanting to see what happens next with them.  Also, what's the point of setting the thing in the Doctor Who universe if you're not going to make a virtue of its rich heritage?  For a show call Class, only two and a half episodes have been about the school with its panoply of story opportunities.  None of the actual plots have been that interesting and almost all of them feel like a rehash of something else without  the necessary clever spin.

There's nothing especially wrong with doing a detention episode; most teen shows set in high schools get around to it eventually.  As here, they tend to be a way of knocking out a cheap installment because it's all set in a single place be it a library or classroom, and in putting all of your characters in a room and forcing them to talk, you can effect change in the relationships going forward.  One of the best episodes of Dawson's Creek was their detention episode, Detention, a loving homage of The Breakfast Club (as these things usually are) in which all of the emotions which had been bubbling under rose to the surface.  My So-Called Life also managed to sneak one into its slender episode count and even though that has Rayanne inadvertently handcuffed to the wrong bed instead, the results were the same as the friends rally together.

The set up is relatively ingenious, with the aforementioned sentient mineral forcing everyone to go a bit Edge of Destruction oscillating between blind panic and wanting to murder each other in between confessing their darkest thoughts.  In most shows, a longer lead time manufactures incident which leads to such thoughts amongst the regular characters which will inevitably spill out due to being stuck in a confined space together all day.  Here the stone force them to confess their secrets in a much shorter time with a modicum of plausibility.  Transferring them all to another dimension without an exit creates an extra level of claustrophobia, just like a prison, of being stuck in a place for an eternity with people you can only barely stand the sight of.  Or travelling to London and back on by train as is the case with me once a month at the moment.

But as anyone who's watched large section of the Davison era without the dvd commentary turned on will know, watching people who say they're friends but really aren't bicker incessantly isn't especially entertaining, especially if they're not particularly witty by design.  However much you can withstand Detained presumably depends on how much you're invested in the characters and since as we've discussed Tanya's about my limit, I could really care less about the emotional lives of the others especially since the confessions they make aren't particularly revolutionary or unexpected.  The writer is so desperate to see his characters in conflict, he daren't have April and Ram confess actual love for each other and give us a warm tickle and a reason to root for them.  In his universe, everything has to be hard.

Plus as we've discussed, because the audience is having to constantly fill in the blanks in some of these friendships the emotions wrought here don't ever quite hit as hard as they should.  When Tanya describes how she feels about herself in relation to the older teens, we haven't seen this lot working as a group for long enough across these episodes to see the dynamics of that unfold.  They only realised they were friends at the end of #1, they're barely together in #2 and the structures of #3, #4 and #5 keep all of them relatively isolated.  We haven't even had a simple scene of all of them hanging in a coffee shop or in the school canteen.  In rushing to hit these emotional beats, the writer hasn't done the necessary narrative spade work, so interested is he in making Quill the most autonomous and interesting figure in a show which should be about the kids.

Which leads us to next week which looks to be mainly a spectacular Quill showcase which will explain (a) why she locked them in detention and (b) where the budget of this episode went much as Midnight then Turn Left did back in the day.  We've returned to what looks like double banking, folks.  Again, it seems like another episode not utilising the school rendering the notion of setting it in Coal Hill entirely superfluous.  See above.  Hopefully it'll be anomalously amazing even if it has nothing much to do with what we expected this series to be about given the Doctor's own mission statement right up front.  Will we finally meet the Senior Partners School Governors and will they turn out to be some classic Doctor Who monster in an attempt to steer the ship back into port?  My money's on the Monoids.

Brave-ish Heart.



TV One of the problems with antidepressants, at least the anti-depressants which I've been prescribed is that they leave you with a generally pleasant feeling all of the time. In a week when the emotional reaction should be sadness and anger, my mouth has continued to be slightly pointing up at edges, each new twist of the metaphoric political knife making an impact on the factual storage areas of my brain rather than the emotional centres.  As the election results inevitably revealed themselves on Tuesday night (inevitable because its 2016), I was generally just numb and in subsequent days, I've found myself laughing at barefaced cheek of the everything.  I want to roar like Katy Perry but instead, I'm rolling my eyes, shaking my head and moving on to the next thing.

Another side effect, not including the grogginess, intermittent nausea, headaches and diarrhea is that it's short circuited my reaction to film and television.  Dramas which are supposed to be sad or scary barely register as such because I simply can't cry, which is a strange given that before this, tears were my favourite release.  The nearest I've come to wet face was watching Spock die in The Wrath of Khan the other week, but there's a good chance I was simply pretending or at least, feeling sad for not feeling sad enough.  You could argue this is a small price to pay for not enduring the horrors of an anxiety which have gripped me for nearly a year, only just about able to commit to being human some days, but I gave up drinking so I could be sure of my own sense of self and now this.

As a result, I'm second guessing my reaction to Class or at least this two parter.  On the one hand I'm enjoying it while it flickers away in front of me, but not to the level of caring much about the characters or becoming engrossed in the storyline.  Everything looks spectacular and shiny but some of the scenes seem to proceed far further than is required in enunciating the action, speechifying to a level of redundancy and a general sense, as with the first half, that the writer had an idea of what was supposed to happen in the episode but couldn't quite manage to calculate how to construct it within the constraints of budget and time and having to service his range of characters.  In other words, why aren't I enjoying this more?

The blossom story hits against the usual shared universe problem of having us wonder why, if this is threatening the planet, neither UNIT or Torchwood or indeed the Doctor aren't on top of it.  At a certain point I wondered if Ness was going to confront this head on and have them indeed dissipate without the kid's participation as a way of reflecting what it must be like to be in that world, with global terrors coming and going.  But on reflection that would have been undramatic within the sphere of a show which is trying for the most part to remain self contained.  It's never a threat which quite has time to establish itself though, the half-hearted body horror never really expressing how it must be affecting the wider population.

April and Ram's trip the Shadow Kin's homeworld coalesced better, partly because of the inherent retreat to a more Whovian structure of a Doctor-figure talking a companion through the world on which they've landed.  Some of the humour felt more belaboured than usual - it's inconceivable that April wouldn't know what Lord of the Rings is, even if (and I can't believe I'm saying this) it was released around the time she was born.  When they reached the Shadow King's lair, it wasn't quite clear how the battle was to be structured and there was much standing around waiting to fight, swords aloft almost as though the characters were waiting for the parallel storyline to catch up with them before heading off into the fray.

Nevertheless you can't criticise the ambition.  As with previous episodes, and as I said last week, it's packing a lot in, like an old WB show's narrative in warp speed.  On top of this the Prince's moral decision about the fate of his own kind and the interloper from Wolf Ram & Hart the "board of governors" and Quill's potential chance to remove her Behavior-Modification Circuitry whatever it inside her head which makes her enslaved to Charlie.  It's a brave choice to retreat to the sensibilities of early First Doctor and be faced with alien characters who don't especially feel like they have a duty to keep mankind safe, such things only really being a result of wanting to remain healthy themselves or protecting their immediate loved ones.

A couple elements of the writing left me a bit squinky.  Despite what I said last week about the show not having a typical white cis male character, it is disappointing this week to have the trope of a gay character threatened even if it doesn't lead to the nauseating prevalent cliche of having them die in the regendered equivalent of fridging.  Then there's having April, for all her talk of having her own strength, albeit augmented through alien intervention eventually being talked into deciding not to kill the Shadow King by her abusive father apparently having to remind her of how she only became that way due to how he treated her and her mother.  The potentially more exciting approach would have been for her to ignore his advice and kill the King anyway.  But having set up the tone of the show and the characters, Ness has to write himself out of a cover in a less than satisfactory manner.

Glancing across other reviews indicates that the general sense is that was sub-par in comparison to previous episodes, so it's quite reassuring that this isn't just the drugs talking and that I haven't missed some vital connection.  The performances remain superb overall, especially Sophie Hopkins, who lends April a real sense of awe, her eyes positively agog at what's happening to her, the power coursing through her.  Ditto Katherine Kelly, who finally revealed the anger and grief burning in Quill's soul.  But perhaps in trying to break out of the more modest ambitions of previous installments and creating something epic, the show loses some of the intimacy which could make it distinctive.  A show called Class should be spending more time at school.

Co-Owner of a Lonely Heart.



TV Sorry if I'm a bit distracted. As I write, the FBI Director has published another letter admitting that contrary to the buzz surrounding his correspondence from a week ago, his assessment is that the agency's attitude to Hillary Clinton hasn't changed since their original judgement in June. That although she used poor judgement in setting up the private email server, that she didn't commit a crime. Well, thanks a bunch mate. On the upside it's before election day so the voters can factor it in and it won't be hanging over her should she win on the 9th. On the downside we don't know what damage it's done in relation to early voting and the overall trend in the polls. Would they have been in this state if the original letter hadn't been released anyway? We'll never know.  I can't believe this is the agency of Mulder and Scully, of Cooper, of Starling, Dunham and Canton Everett Delaware III.

If only my passion in following the US election was mirrored in this week's Class.  Reaching the mid-point of any series leads to an assessment of what the show means to you and if it's been worth your time.  To an extent this is unfair in the UK, because a mid-point for most series is just four episodes in.  Watching Star Trek: The Next Generation recently reminds me that their episode four (assuming you follow Encounter At Farpoint's production codes) is the racist Code of Honor in a show which didn't become the well loved series we think of until its third series.  But Class is part of the ongoing Doctor Who production schedule, so it's not coming from a standing start as we might consider the first series of the revival or the 2010 series.  Like Torchwood and SJA, it's a reflection of something which already exists.

So far, I've been relative to very positive, but this fourth installment doesn't quite hang together.  As Buffy discovered it's always narratively "dangerous" when you divide yourself between two antagonists in one episode especially when they're as potent as this.  Both Alice's affliction and the man-eating blossoms are strong enough to carry their own episode, but stuffing them together and then spreading the lot across two episodes is risky and I'm not sure it quite worked.  They're integrated well enough with characters commenting on one while dealing with the other, but as TNG often discovered when ramming together unconnected A and B plots (typically something like the Enterprise discovering a cosmic anomaly while Data discovers something about humanity in his own time), you run the risk of not giving either the attention they deserve.

There's an especially difficult period in the middle when the action cross cuts between April and Ram's post-coital embarrassment, Quill and the new Head Mistress's summit and Charlie's revelations to Matteusz in the school yard (along with Tanya's scolding) and the pacing slows to a crawl, all three scenes feeling much longer than they possibly need to be.  Nothing seems to be accomplished my throwing between the three and I wonder if more could have been accomplished by presenting them sequentially since there isn't much to thematically connect them.  This kind of micro-criticism is born of trying to work out exactly why I didn't enjoy this as much as I probably should.  It's fine.  It's not Torchwood, but it feels less cohesive than SJA.  But all of the shows which it claims to mimic had off episodes so it shouldn't be unexpected.

Which isn't to say I wasn't hooting in places.  The copulation connection between April and the Shadow Kin king was unexpectedly hilarious, notably when he asked his potential consort for a cuddle, although I agree with Clint Hassell in retrospect that it does undercut the emotional undercurrent of the human coupling.  The scenes between aliens bespoke of similar moment in times past when the Ice Warriors, Zygons or some other fibre glass or rubber creatures would discuss their plans, guest actors trying desperately to give their character some individuality despite essentially wearing the same costume.  Every now and then it wasn't entirely clear which of this beasties was talking, partly because of the blurring imagery and low lighting choice which while probably gladdening Mat Irvine, made it difficult on occasion to see what was actually going on in this interstella Mordor.  I hadn't realised he'd murdered his potential mate until he spoke to her prone body.

Plus as a fan of a particular type of action film, I can't say I'm not taken with April's sword wielding antics, especially given Sophie Hopkins's multi-layered performance, oscillating between tentative femininity and full on Amazonian goddess.  But as has been seen previously, the strength has always been there, the actions of April's father forced that upon her.  Her predicament has simply magnified.  That stops the writer from the potential criticism that the only reason she's become cable of all this is through absorbing a man's power.  As we've already discussed, all of the characters work against their stereotype but it's also true that there isn't a standard white, cis, male figure, there hasn't been an effort to pander to that particular age group.  Not many US shows in this genre have been capable of that.  If all of the characters keep gaining special powers, this is threatening to turn into posh Misfits.

So perhaps my unease is simply the usual business related to having to write about the first part of a story.  Gen of Deek offers the alternative that it's almost as though we've skipped through a bunch of episodes to get here, that this has all the hallmarks of a series finale and we're only at episode four, "there should have been at least one misguided comedy romp, a crossover ep, a guest star vehicle of dubious merit, and a handful of filler episodes" and I'd concur with that too.  If the joint heart story is resolved next week, are we to assume that the final run will be about discovering who Wolfram & ... sorry the Board of Governors are and whether Charlie is in fact an embedded antagonist ala Willow in s6 of Buffy?  If he does decide to try and resurrect his people via humanity, what about all the Zygons?  Will they be inhabited too?

Nightvisiting.



TV Having booked this weekend away from work due to my birthday happening on Monday and wanting to treat myself, theoretically I could have tuned into this third episode of Class as soon as it was posted to the iPlayer at 10am this morning. But Class doesn’t feel like a “daytime” show. Much like its parent series, there’s something to be said for waiting for the darkness and watching when you’re slightly tired and more susceptible to whatever suspense it’s about to deliver. Plus if I had watched this morning, I’d have immediately wanted to review the thing and there goes half the day. Sometimes routines are good and Saturday evenings often don’t feel the same unless I’m chiding myself for three hours about my lack of vocabulary.

Nightvisiting repaid my patience and anticipation with its twilight atmosphere, surreal suburban imagery and emotional depth. Surely inspired by Buffy’s Conversations with Dead People, this relatively stand alone instalment is narratively more straightforward than previous weeks, more engaged with providing extra dimension to its characters. Plus it’s the first episode not related to something happening within the school and although that might be for budgetary and scheduling reasons, it does demonstrate the show doesn’t feel tied to Coal Hill Academy as a locale. Many shows have standing sets that are consequently pressed into service because they exist. Class is designed to be rather more flexible.

As suspected too, Class is also going to have to work hard to find a different identity to The Sarah Jane Adventures. That earlier series also dealt with grief and parental disappointment on numerous occasions and although it presumably wouldn’t have played out in tense almost real time and would have had a PG certificate, a version of the central concept of the episode could have existed in that series, albeit perhaps affecting someone other than the regulars. A fair few of those stories eventually ended up cross cutting a stand off against a visiting alien with Rani and Clyde chasing through the streets searching for clues or their friends or both. Functionally, what is Mrs Quill, but Sarah Jane and Mr Smith rolled into one?

The Lankin are in the phyla of Doctor Who monster designed around the requirements of the emotional core of a story rather than a special effect, although in this case, the accompanying visuals and body horror were suitably horrific. The kind of gestalt being which might rock up in an Eighth Doctor novel in that period when the text was like a poetic word fountain even if the human mind couldn’t quite conceive what was being described (eg, Lawrence Miles). Emotion feeders are a staple of the genre, and often using loved ones against the hero and as was seen in Doctor Who’s Last Christmas, grief is a particularly potent tool. With its heartbreaking opening montage, the episode succeeded in drawing us into Tanya’s pain.

It shows how strong Ness’s writing is that she doesn’t become the victim. There’s another version of this episode where she unequivocally succumbs to the Lankin’s offer and it’s the thrashing about in her front garden, which ultimately saves her. But the big theme of the episode is turning anger into a strength, April against her father for his weakness making her stronger, Matteusz transforming his parent’s misunderstanding of who he is into love for Charlie, Mrs. Quill’s rage against her sister motivating her to help humanity this time, Ram’s general annoyance at his new situation leading him to listening for once. If the show’s successful, there’ll soon be a YouTube edit soundtracked by Katy Perry’s Roar.

The performances are top notch, especially Sophie Hopkins who is more than capable of holding a close-up and underplaying the emotional when required.  Kobna Holdbrook-Smith is just creepy as the manifestation of her Dad, with his Chameleon-like blinks and body language demonstrating physical restraint, of being attached and held back back the larger entity.  But once again lets worship at the fetishy boots of Katherine Kelly, mesmerizingly striding through the thing (or at least striding with as much as her character's reluctance will allow) and taking full account of the humour potential of Mrs Quill's exile, cynically coping with the domesticity and humanity the Doctor's landed her with.  It's the kind of role which could be played too big, but for all her boggly eye rolling, it's contained, compelling.

If there’s some mild consternation it's in how the only two available kids in the group are developing a romantic interest and although such things are not an unrealistic result of intense situations, in some ways having April and Ram remaining platonic feels like it would have been stronger. Which isn’t to say that the writer isn’t applying some quite logic bits of character business like April needing a break due to her heart problems and Ram still retaining some of his irascibility, not quite used to embracing the version of himself that bullied Charlie in the first episode. Plus it is notable that April makes the first move, holds his hand, kisses him, as if to demonstrate just how emboldened she is.

But overall this is well directed with some good laughs and scares and a sense of achieving what it’s setting out to do. Would I be watching if it wasn’t a Doctor Who spin-off? I’d like to think so although I’m putting everything off at the moment due to ploughing through the whole of Star Trek (twenty-one seasons to go) which makes this impossible to really gauge. Plus I was a huge fan of Spooks: Code 9 which shows I’ll watch anything designed for this demographic. Reviews have been notably positive across the board and although a couple of have suggested this is the best yet, I’d argue they’ve all been equally good. If the strike rate remains this high we’ll be clamouring for Ness to take over the main series once Chibnall leaves.

The Coach with the Dragon Tattoo.



TV Second episodes of any new show are always trouble with a capital T. Now that all the characters have been introduced as well as the concept, the writers then have to find something to do and more specifically something which is as much like the opening episode to keep things familiar whilst simultaneously offering a road map for what the show is ultimately going to be. Many show runners often propose that programmes don’t really find their feet until the sixth episode. Doctor Who only really entered the public imagination when the Daleks arrived on screen six episodes into the first series.  Buffy’s sixth episode was Angel (assuming you think of Welcome to the Hellmouth and The Harvest as a single unit).

Class doesn’t necessarily have that luxury. Who and Buffy enjoyed much longer seasons so it has to set out its stall pretty quickly and The Coach with the Dragon Tattoo is as successful as it can be under the accelerated circumstances. Plot wise it’s very early Buffy, drawing on elements of Teacher’s Pet, Reptile Boy and if you squint I, Robot … You Jane not to mention The X-Files’s Never Again. Oddly enough this is the first appearance of a living tattoo in Doctor Who’s mythology (judging by the TARDIS Datacore). But the execution is generally unlike those shows with a deep cut of reality spliced through it which indicates that although it’ll also be utilising the metaphoric supernatural, it’s with a more depthful sense of characterisation.

Unlike similar shows, especially Who’s own spin-offs, our heroes are not really heroes. For the most part in these kinds of series, once the protagonists receive their calling they suddenly become very efficient in their new vocation even if only a week or two has passed since their first interaction with whatever it is as a requirement of the format. By SJA’s second story, Clyde and Luke were already chasing Slitheen around their school. But in Class, the Doctor having haphazardly gifted them their mission, these kids have absolutely no idea what they’re supposed to do about it. They don’t have plans, they’re not strategic, they don’t think things through. They find themselves investigating but they don’t really know what that entails. All of which makes this feels fresh, makes it feel “real”.

They’re gripped by constant uncertainty and events are having a cumulative effect. Unlike the main series in which a companion has to affect a rather blasé attitude to death for the format to work, here it hurts. Ram’s PTSD cuts deep as this figure who’s spent his short life in control, on the football pitch and in his personal life finds himself having to fight to regain some semblance of the person he is. But he’s no warrior despite his actions in the opening episode. Another series might have had our heroes attacking the giant lizard thing or finding some method of combating it. Here they win because Ram suicidally risks what seems to him to be a pointless life ultimately turning his loss of control in on itself. That’s a huge choice in writing terms.

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t moves to put some narrative furniture in place. Tanya’s attempting to hack into UNIT, a back door which could become this show’s “Huggy Bear” or Sunnydale High School Library or Mr. Smith unless writer Patrick Ness turns that on its head and it does nothing of the sort (and isn’t it interesting that she even knows what UNIT is?). Mrs. Quill’s mission is slowly dawning on her although it’s perfectly clear she’s no mentor, content instead to work in parallel to whatever else is going on. Alice is showing signs of becoming a kind of reluctant leader. As an aside, does she actually have no heart? What’s keeping her alive? Like Ram’s leg, how’s that going to work medically going forward? Such things are not easy to hide, even considering the cuts to the NHS.

But there’s no particular drive to rush into anything, building the friendship between this group of more interest than artificially introducing such genre tropes. As in reality, the characters change subtly depending on who they’re speaking to and the motive. I’ve already seen criticism of the “they don’t talk like normal teenagers” variety but even though supposedly most realistic of dramas, with tons of improvisation and gritty camera work, fictional characters never do. Plus it stereotypes teenagers, many of whom are just as witty, grounded and intellectually vital as this lot even if it’s on a slightly less heightened level than in Class. Not all them are, true, but neither are adults as recent election campaigns have demonstrated. I’d trust the Coal Hill Academy crew to vote more than most of the current electorate.

This second episode also offers even more grist for the mill in story terms as we’re introduced to the concept of The Governors. In The Day of the Doctor, the sign for Coal Hill Secondary School identifies the Chairman of the Governors as one I. Chesterton although this sure has to be some other group? Katherine Kelly really is marvellous as Mrs Quill with just the right amount of wacky energy. In close ups she’s utterly compelling; her piercing eyes constantly appraising the scenery, suspicious of everything. We still don’t really know her motives. To continue my comparison with Spike from yesterday, if Quill’s somehow “unchipped” would she stick around to continue the work or fuck off out of it? My guess is she’ll do just that, leaping into the bunghole of time at the earliest opportunity.

So yes, another success which is going to make it all the harder to write about. Miracle Day might have been a complete mess but it’s always easier to be an amusing dumpster arsonist when you hate something. I can well remember my disappointment when Torchwood’s television adventures kept missing the target, when every decent episode was followed by some shocking panto. Class doesn’t feel like it’s capable of that, in that I can’t imagine what a rubbish episode of Class would look like. But then Torchwood had a very good opening, pretty good follow up and then fell down the cracks in the pavement outside Ianto’s shrine, so episode three will be the clincher? Can the show maintain this momentum? Tune in next week to find out. Or whatever it’s called when you stream something on the iPlayer …

For Tonight We Might Die.



TV Good. So, so good. Satirically launched ten years on from the exact day of the second official television attempt at a Doctor Who spin-off, Class has a confidence Torchwood rarely managed, an expressive proficiency which in its first episode at least puts it in the same bracket as the very best of genre shows. Which doesn’t mean it’s especially original, we’re not in Orphan Black or Sense8 territory, but as an example of trying to do a sort of thing in a particular moment, in a particular idiom for a chosen audience demographic, Class excels. It’s funny, smart, has genuinely interesting characters played by likeable actors and actresses and most especially, I’ll be watching the next episode because I want to and not because you’ll be expecting me to post a review. Miracle Day.  It's also available to watch on the iPlayer for the next eleven months, in case you didn't know.

Creator and writer Patrick Ness is pretty shameless about resurrecting Buffy: The Vampire Slayer in the Whoniverse, even opening the episode with similar beats to that series’s opening episode Welcome To The Hellmouth with expectation busting scary moment in the darkened corridors of the school during the teaser followed by the cast being largely introduced walking into the school the following morning. That was Buffy’s first day, but interestingly there’s no particular viewpoint character upfront, Ness taking advantage of the viewer’s inbuilt knowledge of what a school is and more important the archetypes which tend to fill such classrooms. He knows that we know that he knows that we know that he knows we’ve already watched enough of these kinds of programmes to get the gist so why repeat any of it?

It's The Sarah Jane Adventures for the Torchwood age bracket but without the pantomime. But whereas those shows recreated the look and feel of the parent series, albeit for different audiences, Class rejects the current Doctor Who’s idiom for the most part with rapid cutting, shorter scenes, intensified continuity and storylines running in parallel (though admittedly in order to introduce and service all these characters). There are also funny intercutting sight gags and a general sense of experimentation which has been purposefully lacking in quite this way of late in the Moffat era, which has been to an extent aping the classic era which much longer scenes and linear narratives. You can tell I liked this. I have my serious head on. Which is odd because the programme on the whole doesn’t.

Nevertheless it is unexpected that Ness would choose a “breaking of the status quo” introduction to the series, with all the characters in place waiting for the badness to happen, oscillating between omitting narrative information from the audience to create mystery and expositional diarrhoea. That’s something he’s learnt from Joss Whedon’s series, in which Buffy was the lead character and much of the show was from her point of view but Xander and Willow, like April, Ram and Tanya here, were still also a way for the viewer to relate the spooky-doo and others mania. But because they’re citizens of the Whoniverse and watched the same television we have, they’re not surprised by its existence, just by the nature of it. They were probably part of the 456’s human microphone.

Anyone else, just for a moment, wonder if Ms. Quill would be revealed to be another long lost Time Lord? She certainly has the temperament, Katherine Kelly sharp-tongued eccentricity making you wonder exactly how she’s able to keep her teaching job, although having said that, remembering some of my teachers … Either way, she’s utterly compelling with just the right level of moral ambiguity without becoming dislikeable. The less attention-grabbing approach would have been to make her a kindly mentor ala Sarah Jane (and even have brought in a previous companion for much the same role), but by making her mysterious, even dangerous, not a class protector through choice, instead of Giles we have the chip-neutered Spike from season four.

Her students might be archetypes but they’re also dimensional from the off. Ram is the athlete but he’s quickly given depth through tragedy (will Ness slip in a reference to refrigerators next episode?). April’s the prom princess but she’s also the loner, the warmest of the characters now without a heart. Tanya’s the brain but also exceedingly cool. Which leaves Charlie as the criminal except he’s more of a fugitive. Ok, a direct The Breakfast Club analogy doesn’t quite hold up, especially since British high school dramas haven’t traditionally portrayed the same kind of clique system, but in his writing Ness is working hard to write against expectation, to make these characters feel real, to plausibly connect with each other as human beings. “Does this mean we’re mates now?”

Ness also seems to have been left to chart his own mythological course. If the school had been renamed and the Doctor hadn’t appeared, there’s not much in here directly connecting it to the Whoniverse. But the best thing about the Whoniverse is that a writer can insert masses of imaginative new stuff and it absorbs it with less fuss than a Spontex. Almost the entirely population of a planet wiped out by mini-Balrogs who only live in shadows? If you like. An alien prince hiding on Earth with his mortal enemy as his indentured body-woman? Fine. Arguably one of the problems with Torchwood was its desperation to embrace the main series. I’d be quite happy if we never see the Doctor again and we have seven more episode of shiny new things to enjoy.

Inevitably I’m going ask, when is this set? Did anyone notice a date on anything? Obviously we’re back in shared universe territory so anything Earth bound and planet threatening will inevitably make us wonder how it’s affecting this new band of characters, just as I was always scared for the kids in the attic during Miracle Day. Clara’s been accepted as gone, dead or missing, but the Moffat era has a slightly hazier approach to contemporary stories. How many Zygons are there in the school? I’m betting on Mr. Armitage. But all of this is getting way ahead of everything. There are still seven episodes to go and anything could happen. For all we know, a Monoid could fall through time and wander into the school canteen during episode three.

If there was one slightly discordant note, it was the sudden emergence of the Tenth Doctor’s theme on the appearance of the TARDIS during the flashback. Clearly the intention was that Charlie and Quill were rescued by Twelve but it’s a measure of Murray Gold’s initial achievements that those notes have become so synonymous with that version of the Time Lord causing us to wonder briefly – did Tenth save them? Is that why he doesn’t emerge from the blue box because David Tennant wasn’t available? Other than that composer Blair Mowat acquitted himself well on his first drama series gig after a mix of films, shorts and documentaries including The Fan Show on YouTube.  The sound mix is all over the place, some of the dialogue unintelligible. But that could be just the downmix on my headphones.

What of the Doctor in his only appearance on television this year barring the Christmas special? Well, he’s the Doctor. Capaldi having completed his transition from the menace who growled his way through season 8 back to the benevolent alien we know and love.  He’s just magic now isn’t he? Following Russell’s lead when he wrote the Time Lord into his school based spin-off, Patrick is careful to make sure he doesn’t hog the spotlight, the kids the key to the solution. The Doctor’s holding back, testing them to some extent, but without the cruelty of Kill The Moon, stepping in when required. Will the next series be partly about him regaining his memories of Clara or have we properly moved on now? I appreciated the grace note, but how did he remember be the old caretaker without her?

Like Fleabag and Thirteen, Class is a demonstration that BBC Three, even with its new delivery method is capable of spearheading some excellent drama. Before you ask, no I haven’t seen episode two yet, that’s for tomorrow night. As I write these words its only half nine which is a welcome change from how Doctor Who was broadcast last year, with me still tapping away on this laptop past midnight as a result.  It’s strange not having to sit through five minutes of Strictly first but it is entirely convenient to be able to see a new episode of something when I want to. Which isn’t to say I haven’t missed the collective post-broadcast atmosphere on social media afterwards. Though I have got any mention of it muted on Tweetdeck to avoid spoilers, so for all I know you’ve all be talking up a storm.

The second episode of Class, just like all shows will really emphasise the format.  The “next week” trailer somewhat suggests it’ll be much as we expect, an alien of the week for the kids to fight or some time travel related business or both. We’ll (or more likely I’ll, since you’ve all seen it already) see whether everything will stand alone or the storytelling is going to be more cumulative and interrelated, the effects of one adventure bleeding into another. Perhaps, like Buffy, it’ll do both. Will we see the emotional toll on the characters as they have to deal with stuff week on week or embrace the great spirit of adventure? Will eight episodes be enough? The fact that I’m speculating about this shows that the job is done. I’m hooked.

Class War.



TV Find above the first proper trailer for Doctor Who's new spin-off Class, uploading to BBC Three with two episodes on the 22nd October and heading off for another six weeks after that. It's about what we expected, The Sarah Jane Adventures with the tone of Torchwood. Usual business about cautious welcome, though I hope it's more of an ensemble than some of the establishing shots imply and it's not a male protagonist and bunch of co-stars.  Clever of writer Patrick Ness to address head on all the potential comparisons with other genre cousins, knowing full well that he's essentially using a well worn premise in the Whoniverse.  Hell, even Torchwood had its rift.  Find below a specially shot teaser with the Doctor smashing the fourth wall:



Before you ask, yes, yes I am. Or at least I'm planning to ...

Out Class and Online.

TV When the official Doctor Who twitter feed knocked out this at six o'clock this evening pretty much everyone was excited:


Cue five hours of random speculation on the Twitters in which most fans seemed to convince themselves that it would be a missing episode announcement or that Osgood was going to be announced as a companion or some such. Unless that was just me. Either way when this happened:



And eventually:


Everyone was:


Even though:


Which is entirely correct.

Anyway, so yes, a Doctor Who's getting a spin-off, it's called Class and it's set in Coal Hill School and it's written by Patrick Ness.

BUT and I've rather buried the headline here, the channel it's for, BBC Three, goes online only in January something which is unmentioned in the above press release (although the Radio Times has noticed).  So when this is "broadcast" next autumn, it's main distribution point will be the iPlayer or a surviving BBC channel late night.

SO Class is, like Spooks: Code 9 before it, is a YA spin-off of a very successful existing property designed to promote the reformating of BBC Three.

Notice too that this is for BBC Three and not CBBC so although it seems like a rerun of SJA to some degree the tone they'll more like be searching for is Buffy or Almost Human but not, we should suspect Torchwood.

Speculation: the return of Courtney and Jenna Coleman as a series regular.  Ian Chesterton cameo and Capaldi appearing in at least one episode.

Patrick Ness is supposed to be quite good.  I wasn't a huge fan of his Puffin eBook from 2013 featuring Fifth and Nyssa, his only other Who credit so far, but you do have to ask why him?  Are we seeing the BBC training someone to take over from Moffat?  He only has one other screenwriting credit albeit on a major motion picture based on his own novel.

We don't know much about it but in general I'm still, well, hum.  The Caretaker was the third worst episode of last year but that was mainly due to the appalling gender politics rather than anything to do with the school.  But it doesn't feel like anything spectacularly new based on the press release, essentially Grange Hill with aliens and haven't we seen that already?

Which isn't to say that a Paternosters spin-off would be the better choice but there was certainly scope to introduce a thing in the main series, as per Torchwood, which was a bit more unusual.  But the scope of this seems firmly based on what could be budgeted relatively cheaply as per most precinct dramas.  I'll try not to pre-judge though.  We await casting announcements with great interest.