Review 2006: Epilogue

Review of Review 2006

When I decided what I would be doing for Review 2006 this year I inevitably had no idea of the range and scope it would take or that in the end it would only sporadically actually be a review of the year 2006. Most days I would spend hours writing these pieces and the rest of the time would be spent thinking of answers. Some predictably came much more easily than others and required more research. I hadn't planned to write so many mini-essays and on reflection I perhaps should have set myself a word limit to save on the wildest excesses. But then, I think some of the best pieces are the longest.

I should also have expected that some of the questions would be quite personal, especially since for most of the time I'm not that open on the blog, certainly less prone to personal gossip than others. I know some of you were disappointed that I didn't go into even more detail sometimes, but since the algorithm at Google is getting really good at fishing out information, I wanted to save a few blushes (although one of these days I promise to tell you the story of my first kiss since I don't even know her name so can't even mention it).

I think it best to simply represent the questions with updated information and comments, a kind of annotation, including some catch up on what else might have been happening in life when I was posting these answers. One of the things I was very conscious of is that there's only so much text that people will read, and I'm surprised, pleased and blessed that there are people who have read everything and I hope enjoyed at least some of it.

Why can't Liverpool FC win away from home?
Google 'liverpool away form' and this post is right at the top. Meanwhile, their performance has improved.

Given that Casino Royale is in the cinema's at the moment - just how many girls has Bond been with? How many can you name (characters)?
I was given The Best of Bond compilation for Christmas which oddly doesn't put the songs in chronological order. It features Lulu's Man With A Golden Gun and Shirley Bassey's Moonraker which are catastrophic. I do have a soft spot though for Rita Coolidge's All Time High, although it's disappointing they couldn't have worked the film's title Octopussy in somewhere.

If you could have your own total fantasy life, what would it be like?
My coffee machine broke down and I had to go out and buy a new one. For the science that's attributed to the production of a cup of black coffee, outside of Starbucks I haven't tasted anything better than what's produced from this coffee filter machine that cost six pounds. Another christmas present was a set of coffee mugs in various sizes that when stacked together with their saucers show a complete picture of the Eiffel Tower. Amazing.

Whenever I think of doing something like a blog, I always worry that anything I write would either sound really pretentious or be very boring. How do you handle those fears and just write?
Writing Review 2007 has helped me enormously in terms of simple having to sit down and writie something. I'm not proud of every answer -- some could be tighter, others better structured but overall I'm glad that I did this. I'm still not sure what my voice is, although I really need to stop using the words 'although' and 'really' quite so much.

Throughout most of The Empire Strikes Back, the Millenium Falcon's hyperdrive is not working (should have gone to Kwik Fit!) so it can't travel faster than light! However, there is a point where they travel from the Anoat System to the Bespin system. Separate Star systems would never be less than a couple of light years apart (I presume!), i.e. at least two years travel even if they could attain just a tiny bit less than light speed! It clearly doesn't take them this long, so is it some sort of 'worm-hole' or curved universe phenomena that they utilise to accomplish their trip? I simply must know! :) Thank you!
I thought of another possibility. Temporal anomaly. See a hundred episodes of Star Trek.

You might have covered this before, but, why Stuart *Ian* Burns - and not just Stuart Burns? And, if I can squeeze in another related to that, how do you feel about people who spell it "Stewart"?
Sure enough, my MA degree certificate says 'Stuart Ian Burns'. Still seems right somehow.

I only thought of this last night, but I'd be interested to read your musings on the adverts shown on the programmes you watch a lot. There is a point. They must be aimed at a certain type of audience, the people they expect to be watching, but they're often wildly off. What's sort of person do they think you are, and what can be the logic behind those decisions?
I was watching a video recording of Queen Christina, the Greta Garbo film, recorded from Channel 4 in the late nineties. One of the adverts I remembered seeing before was for Super Noodles -- you might know the one -- were a Dad is eating noodles and uses a shirt to wipe his mouth and then discovers its the one his wife was going out in so he blames it on the young child who is sitting on the couch. Camera changes angle and it's Martin Freeman, looking oh so young.

Have you ever found the one true love in your life, but not been in a position to do anything about it, for whatever reason?
An anonymous commenter said something rather beautiful about this: "It's all about timing. even if you do find the right person, it has to be the right time or else, it just isn't going to happen, or you try to make it happen and it ends up messing everything up. Good thing you're in the film making business because there are billions of falling in and out of love stories and we all think our own is something special and unique because it was. to us."

Why do people say "cheap at half the price" when they mean the full price is also, well, cheap? Makes no sense to me!"
It's funny how I was able later to come up with a more logical argument for science over religion than this.

Of all the trivia that you've blogged or read over the years, which bit sticks in your mind the most, and why?
Despite what I said above, I'm going to start drinking more water again. Too much coffee is making me quint and my hands are shaking.

What's the major problem with Torchwood and can Russell T Davies fix it or is it a lost cause? Can a showrunner really run two shows at once?
This was probably the most popular post of the Review and is still being linked on blogs and discussion boards, including this Danish usenet board were they roundly criticised it (I think - I was translating using Babel Fish). Torchwood didn't improve, and now with The Sarah Jane Adventures there are three shows on the slate. Good luck Russell.

What one question, if asked, would you be most inclined to answer with a lie - and why?
Resolved not to simply say ok and ask genuine questions. I did bump into someone out shopping on Christmas Eve had a whole conversation with them and have absolutely no idea who they were even though they seemed to know a hell of a lot about me. It wasn't one of you was it? I felt awful.

I've kindly been given a subscription to LoveFilm and while I have a few things I'd like to see I want to make the most of the opportunity and see films I wouldn't otherwise. I have a largely uneducated interest in foreign film, particularly French and Italian - any recommendations? No horror please, just interesting and beautiful films you think are worth watching.
Horrifying lack of foreign cinema on tv over Christmas, even on BBC Four. There was a horrifying lack of any art house films at all in Freeview land. Sky Cinema and TCM seem to have the rights sewn up.

What do you feel provides the human race with answers, closest to the truth, Science or Religion?
When I went to Birmingham for the job interview, I visited St. Martin's Church near The Bullring. It's a lovely building and despite everything I said in this post, I still felt a tremor and not a little bit humbled. If that happens I know that I can't simply call myself an aethist. That too seems simplistic. When I told my mum, she said that I was a Questioner, which sounds like a nice substitute for the now appropriated by someone else Non-denominational Spiritualist. I was happy to see that Gia agreed with me, and someone else left some useful supporting material in this comment. I have some very smart readers.

What are you most afraid of and why? What have you done to overcome your fears?
I began applying for a job earlier and on the pull down menu at the site I was able to select Merit. Outstanding. When my graduation photo arrived, it didn't half look bad. I should have worn a different tie.

Can you explain the appeal of Keira Knightley?
Coming up next after the next (hopefully last) Pirates of the Caribbean film, Knightley is back in a frock for Silk, "A dark love story about a French silkworm merchant who travels to Japan and begins having an affair with a Nobleman's concubine, leaving his faithful wife alone in war-torn France." [imdb] which raised the spectre of an outrageous French accent, Atonement the next film from Joe Wright who directed Pride and Prejudice, based on the Ian McKewan novel and The Best Time of Our Lives from John Maybury, director of The Jacket -- "Two feisty, free-spirited women are connected by the brilliant, charismatic poet who loves them both." Rumour has it the other feisty, free-spirited woman is Lindsay Lohan which seems like type-casting to me ...

What's the next new thing that's being talked as something that's going to 'revolutionize' our lives in say 6 - 10 years time? It can be in any sphere you like.
Didn't snow on Christmas Day and it was the wind what led to the postponing of the fireworks at New Year.

Now that it's all done and dusted, what sequence would you recommend watching the six Stars Wars films? Although I've tried, I still can't watch them in I,II,III,IV etc order ...
Apparently just days before The Phantom Menace was due to be lensed, George Lucas rang Steven Spielberg and begged for him to take over the directing of the film. He declined. Shame. He ended up doing the animatic for the lightsaber battle in the lava at the end of Sith which is probably one of the best things in any of the films.

Next Saturday, I'll be back in Liverpool for the day, with my girlfriend. One of the reasons for the visit is so that she can get a better feel for the city because we're thinking of moving there. So, can you tell me where the hidden cool and interesting bits of Liverpool are?
Brilliantly, Adrian has written about what happened that day: "Leaving Paddy's Wigwam led us naturally along Hope Street, past the Everyman and the Phil(harmonic Hall). We'd timed it so that we could stop around here for lunch, and The Quarter restaurant proved an excellent recommendation. Thanks Stuart. The food was lovely; service was superb; and we even bought one of the artworks on display on the walls." My pleasure. In an email, Adrian says that coincidentally he got the Pevsner guide for Christmas too.

Who's your favourite and least favourite Doctor, and companion?
The new BBC7 series with Paul McGann certainly vindicated my choice -- he was better than ever. Doctor Who Magazine's review section described it as 'Essential' which from their reviewer Matt Michael who never seem to be impressed with anything is high praise indeed. The dramas can be heard every Sunday at 6pm and midnight and is on listen again here. If you hurry, you'll be able to hear the first episode. New companion Lucie was good, but I've still got a soft spot for Charlie...

Have you ever had any kind of casual/one of experience with a member of the same sex? Even if just a suppressed crush on an actor or musician etc?
Jess wondered: "Do you think perhaps he might have been a bit tipsy, rather than trying to chat you up?" Yes! Watching Queen Christana, and the scene were Garbo feels her way around the inn room so that she can remember it, I resolved to see every other film she ever made.

People say money can't buy you happiness. I find this an over simplification of a complicated argument. What is your point of view?
I found a ten pound note in my wallet I didn't know I had. That made me happy.

What is the significance of the Wolf in American Indian teachings?
Questioner Alan left his own succinct answer in the comments: "Wolves symbolize family, teaching, co-operation, insight, stealth, strength, leadership, loyalty, freedom, individuality, psychic energy connected to the moon (hidden wisdom), sharing knowledge and wisdom, cunning, hunting, seeking, introspection, listening, magick, dreams, They are connection to the moon and to Wepwawet, Zeus Lycaeus, Apollo, Ares, Mars, Silvanus, Cernunnos and Odhinn." Thanks Alan.

What are your views on the pedestrianisation of Norwich city centre?
When I passing up Church Street in Liverpool just before Christmas I heard a busker outside HMV singing the theme tune to 'Cheers' -- 'Sometimes you wanna go - were everybody knows your name ...' I had to give him some pennies. If there'd been a road and traffic, I might not have heard him.

What is your favorite film and why?
My main present this year, the back issues of Movie magazine are proving to be amazing. Today I was reading all kinds of insights into the transition from silent to sound. For example, the really smart actors and actresses left Hollywood for a few months during the transition and returned to the stage, sometimes to tiny roles, so that they could retrain and discipline their accents so that it would be legible or deamable as acceptible on screen. They were brought back into the fold with open arms. Many of those who decided to stick it out or decided they were too famous and untouchable found themselves getting less and less work because the sound of their voice wasn't what people were looking for.

Which bit of trivia about you would you like to be remembered by?
Number thirteen.

BBC4 have just given you carte blanche to create your own TV evening from 7pm-2am. What do you show and why?
Oddly enough Measure for Measure was featured in the documentary Lenny and Will over Christmas. You can hear it here (link opens BBC Radio Player).

Do you think any of the cultural stereotypes about English people are true?
In the comments, Probitionate suggests a few more: "1) Fabulous, endemic sense of humour. (This is creeping into my 'insights' list, but really; you guys know how to laugh. Any nation that has panto is on the right-track Life-outlookwise, in my book.) 2) Despite being 'prudish' (a distinctly 'class-oriented' stereotype), a ribald sense of the sexual. (Benny Hill and Page 3 birds) 3) Especially when there's beer involved...gregariously, heart-warmingly friendly. (Ask me -insights-wise? about two of the most endearing qualities connected to this, wrapped-up in language.)"

Why is Doctor Who so disappointing all of a sudden? Is it down to age?
Inevitably in Doctor Who Magzine, Russell T Davies mentions some of the destinations in the next series and they include the far-flung planet, Malcassairo and a world set thousands of light years away. Along, at least, with visits to 1930s New York and Elizabethen London, this looks like the most ambitious season yet.

Would you stop writing your blog if your stats told you there were 0 readers?
Still here. Still writing. Still looking at the stats.

Which famous 5 people, dead or alive, would you invite to a dinner party. What would you eat/drink? What entertainment would you lay on for the 6 of you afterwards?
Madeleine Peyroux did a turn on Jool's Holland's Hootenanny 2006, prerecorded for New Year's Eve. She looked ... uncomfortable and didn't sound right. She pitched womanfully on, and then gave a look at the end which showed she wasn't happy with her performance either. I think it was something to do with sound feedback because she had her finger in her ear through most of it. Still, at least we could hear her. Look what happened to Sophie Ellis Bextor on the other side...

This has once again been a wonderful experience and certainly the biggest challenge yet. Don't forget it's your turn next year and I already have a couple of ideas, one of which will begin extra specially early. I'll let you know ...

Review 2006: Finale

Lisa asks:
Which famous 5 people, dead or alive, would you invite to a dinner party. What would you eat/drink ? What entertainment would you lay on for the 6 of you afterwards?

That's a bit of poisoned chalice isn't it? I mean there I am trying to think my way through everyone whose ever lived ever and whoever I pick there's sure to be someone saying: 'What? You'd rather spend an evening with Alexander Graham Bell and Debbie Harry when you could have had dinner with Gershwin and Donna Summer? There are also the smart answers like all of my friends, the cast of Friends, The Beatles plus one (not Yoko) or The Comedy Store Players.

In an attempt to finally drag this Review 2006 back into the realm of being a Review of 2006 and to put some limits on my choices, I'm going to pick five people, a meal and entertainment that have had some relevance to my life in the past twelve months with the added restriction of not including anyone I actually know, and that includes email correspondence (just so that no one and everybody feels left out). Here's then who'll be at my imaginary New Year's Eve party.

First to arrive might be old school Hollywood screenwriter Robert Riskin. Earlier in the year during my film course I selected an essay question which at its heart talked about auteur theory and particularly the extent to which director Frank Capra's style was defined through his own personal choices, by the types of stories he was making or his collaborators - actors, producers, production designers and in this case screenwriters. His main collaborator throughout the majority of his career was Riskin and although it was Capra's name was above the title in such works as Mr. Deeds Goes To Town and American Madness it was Riskin who was the engine and looking over the printed versions of his scripts, very often the stylistic devices and storytelling quirks were Riskin through and through, the populist small everyperson making it big being the primary example, but also the repeated device of what looks like a downer ending becoming somewhat good by the end, but with not necessarily every character issue being resolved.

The complication lies in the fact that once Capra and Riskin parted, those same devices still cropped up to the extent that one of Riskin's first films with a different director Magic Town feels like a Capra film even though it was directed by a jobbing studio director without the same cache (William Wendell). It's a reverse of the Mr. Smith Goes To Washington model, with Jimmy Stewart as a city slicker and pollster going into and falling for a small town that is apparently statistically perfect. The authorship of the film is . . . obscured but what I would want to ask Riskin is how close their collaboration was and if in fact he should, like I presume many screenwriters, have taken more of the glory at the time than he did.

But Riskin, despite what you would expect, was a bit of a party animal and although he almost always got the job done he had something of a reputation for the booze. The man had a personality too. Apparently, after the falling out over the nightmare that became Meet John Doe (for which Capra could never decide on an ending) he waved a blank piece of paper in Capra's face and said: "Put the famous Capra touch on that!". He was also, let's not forget, married to Fay Wray for thirteen years and also worked on Broadway during one of the golden periods so he had some kind of an exciting life.

Assuming she can find the time, I'd next invite singer Madeleine Peyroux in from the cold. I was given her 2004 album Careless Love last Christmas and it kept me company during the long wintry university commuting. I mentioned on the blog that some of the tracks sound like Christmas morning and they still do and express that feeling of excitement then melancholy that its all over for another year. I bought her first album 'Dreamland' recently and although its stylistically different, her voice still had that well worn quality, the haunting sound of a life lived. She was like the gateway drug to other jazz and blues music and here I am months later listening to Diana Krall, Stacy Kent and Nina Simone.

Even through we're the same age, her life couldn't have been any more different. Born in Athens to what she once described as hippy parents. After moving to New York with them, after they divorced her Mother took her to Paris were she was discovered at the age of fifteen, joined a band and was touring Europe at about the time I was trying to get my head around quadratic equations in Mr Singer's GCSE maths class. In 1996, the year I graduated from university first time around her brilliant first album Dreamland was released to such critical acclaim and was apparently a massive hit at the time but she didn't want to deal with any of that. So she returned to Paris and went busking again, giving the odd café gig under an assumed name.

Another album came in 2003, a collaboration with her ex-boyfriend that went sour, the results of which are is still going through the courts and in 2005 she disappeared again - that was my introduction to her - seeing a report on BBC News in which her record company were essentially putting an appeal out for her whereabouts. She turned up not that long afterwards hiding back in New York and of late she's been on tour in the UK. I missed her concert at The Phil after a range of calamities related to me not knowing in time, so it would be nice to see her at the table next to Riskin so that I could pull a Christmas cracker with her and suggest a few ideas for her next album. I'd love to hear what she'd do with Daniel Johnson's Come See Me Tonight.

A few minutes later, Tim Berners-Leecredited inventor of the World Wide Web should arrive. It seems only right that I should be able to give a drink to the man who created the medium through which I'm posting this, especially since having designed it, he made the technology and methods freely available for other people to make lots of money. It's funny to think that I began my undergraduate degree at university just two years after the first web page went online and by the third year I was already writing my first report about how search engines work (the original Webcrawler and Excite!)

He also developed the first hypertext systems (the term was coined by Ted Nelson who I've already met), which is the other reason for his invite because he indirectly led to my dissertation topic over the summer, defining Hyperlink cinema as a genre. After watching many, many films and reading many, many books I eventually came to the conclusion that actually there might be a genre, but that it was big enough a topic that it could never be resolved in the fifteen thousand or so words I was given to attempt an answer so for me it remains unresolved. For the uninitiated, you can usually tell a hyperlink film if there are multiple storylines in multiple locations about a diverse set of characters. So Short Cuts is but Parenthood isn't and neither is 21 Grams if you actually bother to pay attention to the story being told.

When Elizabeth I steps across the threshold, she's not what I expect although I didn't know what I was expecting. The problem with historical figures is that our image of them is developed from numerous books, documentaries, paintings and films. It's difficult for me not to think of Elizabeth I as being like Glenda Jackson or Cate Blanchett or Mary Anne Duff or even Helen Mirren when those were all interpretations of a real figure who is nothing like any of them or somewhere in between. The version visiting is still so young though and the Spanish Armada is a few years in the future so she's yet to really prove her worth to a people who it is my impression venerate her as the Gloriana but still have their doubts.

Of all the historical figures I've encountered this year, it's Bess whose made the biggest impression both through catching up on various films and dramas and Simon Schama's summary of her life in A History of Britain. It's probably a weird comparison, but like Madeleine she was an independent woman but had to make many, many sacrifices in the name of her country. Although history has cast doubt on whether she was truly a Virgin Queen, more than many monarchs of the period she had to make so many decisions in relation to state and family that the emotional toll would be enormous.

I supposed I would want to invite her in order to see through the pop culture references to see what the real woman was like. You can never imagine royalty as people like us even when they're doing fallible things. Would she enter with the regality intact and impeccable behavior or take the opportunity to relax at least for this one night? Perhaps I've got Miranda Richardson in mind when I imagine her waking up on New Years Day with a splitting headache in a Shakespeare's Globe t-shirt having spilt red wine down the front of her dress, moaning that she's got to go back to court and can't face the look on Burley's face when he realises what she's been up to.

If Douglas Adams arrives late I can't blame him. In a terrific piece of bad timing, he's writing The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy at the same time as script editing Doctor Who. He looks harished and could probably do with a night off. I saw Adams for the first time this year giving one of the best pissed night out stories ever in which he and a friend went to Paris uninvited during the filming of my favour classic Who story City of Death. They drank their way around the city until everywhere had closed and then tried catch a flight to Berlin because they knew of another bar that might still be open there. I'd invite him just hear that story again, and also so that this younger version of him can hear Tim describe what'll be happening with the internet in his future.

Frankly, Douglas is still missed and it's such a shame that he wasn't here to see the Wikipedia which is probably exactly what he expected the h2g2 website to become even though that never gained the same currency globally. It would seem strange if a proportion of the contributors to the Wikipedia didn't have Hitchhikers at the back of their minds, this opportunity to create store of knowledge, usable by anyone, telling the story of everything. The media spends far too much time criticizing its accuracy when really it should be praising the fact that its now possible to find a reasonably comprehensible description of most subjects, which, and this is important, can be corrected instantly if needed. It's proved invaluable during the writing of this article, if only to get a sense of the people.

My big food discoveries this year were musaka and jambalaya and I'd definitely serve these for dinner, along with choices of Caesar salad, chicken in breadcrumbs and chili con carne (calling ahead before hand to check if anyone was a vegetarian or didn't like spicy food). For starters I'd have tomato soup made from scratch with real tomatoes and close with a choice of mince pies or Christmas pud. I'd do my usual with the wine - visit OddBins and pick something with a colourful looking label (which even though I know nothing about wine seems to work most of the time) but I'd also offer choices of water and fruit juices. Unless anyone wants a beer (in which case, oh yes, again, I'd call ahead).

For the closing entertainment, I'd ask my guests to all pick some songs and cds, bank them up on an ipod and we'd play Trivial Pursuit to the small hours or until we got bored with not being able to answer the questions. Bob and I should be good with the film questions, Tim and Douglas with the technology, Madeleine with the music and Liz with the history questions (since miraculously none of them would be about anything before the 1580s). I suspect it would be a great leveler and like Glenn Gould once said (I'm paraphrasing) you can really get to know more about a person by asking them about subject for which they're not famous.

And as the dawn came we'd sit on the balcony of my flat and wait for the new day.



Happy New Year!

Review 2006

Billy asks:
Would you stop writing your blog if your stats told you there were 0 readers?

Of course I would.

When I began writing the blog, five and a half years ago now, I didn't have any readers. I don't think anyone was looking in for months and if they were it was from Google. It's a shame because I still think that was when the blog was its best, when I seemed to have much more to write about and the cynicism hadn't really set in yet.

I was a much more promiscuous linker back then, with a feature in which I highlighted another blog each day, the backlinks for which I'm sure drew some readers and I think you just gain them through search engines because people find you and like what you're doing. But I don't think that at any point have I really gone after a particular audience. Primarily this is like a textual scrapbook, a place to keep a record of who I am each day or week and I'm not sure I could give it up even if no one was reading.

I love that I can look at some random week, say in mid-July 2003, when I was mostly kvetching about Big Brother and the government, both subjects I've given up worrying about. I wish I was able to do that with my whole life, seeing what the version of me at fourteen really had on his mind. I would have probably been talking about Kylie Minogue, getting annoyed with the sheer badness of the first season of Star Trek: The Next Generation, studying Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and complaining about how poor the films were that year. Things haven't changed that much then.

That said, although I'd like to say that none of this was about you, plainly it is. I do wonder who is reading and find it quite bizarre that I'm not sure exactly what my circulation is. Although site meter says that this week the blog had over a thousand hits, all the referrer logs seems to list are google searches. Bloglines shows thirty-one subscribers but how many of them read the blog and just haven't gotten around to deleting it? Just how many readers do I have?

Review 2006

Neil from Behind The Sofa asks:
Why is Doctor Who so disappointing all of a sudden? Is it down to age?

In two thousand and two when the prospect of a new television series looked completely impossible, I decided that someone needed to do something and after watching the film Jerry Maguire late one night sat down to write a mission statement, what I thought would be the model to follow if ever anyone decided to produce a new series. I looked at the kinds of drama series that were in production but also wanted to reflect somewhat the novels I'd been reading and the audios I'd been listening to. From April 2002 then:

A vision for the future of television Doctor Who:

Main Characters: The Doctor; Female companion; The TARDIS
Familiarity. Turn on your average post-Troughton story this is your set up. The companion explores the problem at hand, The Doctor explains and solves it. The average viewer isn't expecting three 'teenagers' and a robot. Better to give depth to one companion than to have two or three ciphers.

Six one hour episodes.
Clarity, attention span, budget. With judicious and careful editing most tv Who stories could be told in an hour - the audio version of Genesis of the Daleks which crams six episodes onto long play record proves this. Yes, it's nice to see Tom and Lalla running around Paris in City of Death but it doesn't exactly drive the plot forward does it? If Buffy can do it, so can 'Who'.

First episode - Cybermen. Last episode - Daleks (with cliffhanger ending)
Nice and familiar. Monsters, and monsters the public have heard of. Could redesign the Cybermen a bit, but keep the Daleks as pepper pots (that's half their appeal). Daleks in last episode not first so as not to show all your good cards.

In between, The Doctor takes his companion to see the first civilisations (Stonehenge, Ancient Egypt, even earlier) and the end of time (last surviving human, aliens trading the last human DNA remains). Episode set on a strange alien planet, episode on a starship.
The Hartnell era might be a good pattern to follow. So two sci-fi, one quasi-historical, one pure historical. Random order. I'd have the historical as episode two, sci-fi three, then follow in The Time Meddlers footsteps and sell the quasi-historical initially as a historical. Then Sci-Fi, then that Dalek story. Returns the show to unpredictability; the TARDIS guidance circuits have malfunctioned so he doesn't know (and therefore we don't know) where he'll end up next (that's real adventure isn't it?). Historicals potentially an easier sell now alongside the monster stories because the BBC are still so good at them.

Ignore continuity references, but don't contradict anything too much.
Base everything on what the general public probably knows - yes, we know The Doctor is a Timelord, but do we need some boring old episode on Gallifrey to prove the point? Only exposition relating to plot at hand then, and make the stories self contained. No need to keep referring back to 'the canon' all the time, but don't contract it. That way the old fans will be content that this isn't a re-boot, but the new fans won't start turning off in their droves when it becomes clear that they should have seen half a dozen old stories and read four novels to make the present story at all comprehensible (Attack of the Cybermen - aaaaaaaaaah!)

No romance, but lots of flirting.
See Pertwee and Jo Grant; Tom Baker and everyone (apart from Harry); whilst I personally had no problem with 'that kiss' this is a family show.

Family show, but scary enough to need a sofa
Everyone says they hid behind the sofa. Nothing wrong here - scary monsters and cartoon violence. But keep to the model of The Doctor using his mind to outwit his opponents.

Most that is common sense stuff but I'm still amazed, excited and pleased at how closely the new series matches my expectations. But for some reason during the second series, I began to find faults and cracks and although I was mostly loving some of the episodes I kept having a nagging feeling that I wasn't enjoying the series as much as I could be.

Before listing what these reservations are I do want to drop in some caveats. In no way is this supposed to be a 'the problem with Doctor Who article in the same vein as the Torchwood analysis I recently published. In relation to performances and production and direction it's as good as we could possibly have expected and it's amazing that you can now see kids in Forbidden Planet getting excited over a copy of Murray Gold's soundtrack, attempting to convince their parents to invest because it comes with a free badge. I loved the latest special The Runaway Bride and watching the special documentary on Christmas Day I had a lump in my throat.

I love the Tenth Doctor. David Tennant, being a fan himself, his performance is a believable amalgam of the previous nine and yet has still brought his own indefinable magic, which is backed up with writing that makes him thoroughly likeable. Author Paul Magrs has said: 'I was always pleased when the Doctor was content to blunder into things, let himself meet fabulous characters in that sweetly picaresque eighteenth century way of his' - he was describing the Eighth Doctor (the Paul McGann incarnation) but that's entirely true of Tenth, that carefree attitude that can switch to seriousness at a moments notice. Some have criticized the pop culture references, the Ghostbusters moment being particular dislikes, and some of the smugness, but above all the man is heroic and precisely what the drama needs.

The treatment of the companion has improved too and that's definitely a legacy of the spin-off culture. Rose Tyler had a life, a back story and a developing personality that effected her reaction to each adventure, changing more than just her costume across the seasons. This simply didn't happen before - Nyssa lost her family and home planet but this was hardly remarked upon again, at least not in an emotional way. Indeed companions would often join and leave in the most random of circumstances when the actors contract was up for renewal and often in stories that had little or nothing to do with their passing. The final episode of the last series, Doomsday was pinioned around the loss of Rose, written that way because the only way to split those two up convincingly was to stick them in different universes.

Like the first, that second series also brought some classic stories as good as anything the franchise has produced in any medium. No one saw The Girl In The Fireplace coming, distilling everything that's oddball and goofy about the concept whilst and the same time injecting passion and sadness. The story of the Doctor saving Madame de Pompadour, the French courtesan from clockwork men from the future using windows in time from a spaceship lacked the one line synopsis that most stories are dogged by but still managed to be exciting accessible entertainment. When the Doctor's heart was broken at the end, you felt it was because of the underplaying - he'd met someone who seemed to understand him but she was lost in time. It wasn't like the loss of Rose later in the series; they were friends but never equals in the same way that Reinette could be.

The problem with the second series is that these kinds of unresolved emotional arcs that cut the Doctor to the core were fewer than in the first series when the Ninth Doctor was at the centre. The Chris Eccleston model was still getting over the effects of the destruction of his home planet and as the season wore on it became apparent that a time war with the Daleks had led him to doing the deed himself. What this meant was that every story was personal; from trying to save the Gelth in The Unquiet Dead to fighting to save everyone in The Empty Child ('Just this time Rose, everybody lives!') each story had his struggle with guilt at the core and was about him dealing with being the only survivor of his race. In the second series, that guilt has lifted and so when he tries to deal with the problem at hand it's out of the goodness of his heart, his moral duty to protect the innocent.

But, and this is a big BUT, this has meant that there has been a move towards attempting to shoehorn in the sentiment to the extent that every story apparently needs to have an emotional crescendo. In some cases that really works - in Fireplace or School Reunion (and to a lesser extent The Runaway Bride), mainly because those are about the Doctor and his feelings. In the very worst cases, Fear Her for example, there are about three climaxes and there is a law of diminishing returns so that by the time the Doctor is lighting the Olympic flame it's just too much. Such climaxes are also drowned in music and in a Hollywood sense the chords are telling the audience how they should feel which can make some of us feel a bit disgruntled.

The other big problem is that given that the main characters have a time machine that can go anywhere in history or the cosmos, the broadcast adventures seem to spend a lot of time in London in the suburbs in the twentieth or twenty-first century, something that hadn't occurred to Davies until journalist Ben Cook mentioned it to him in an interview for Doctor Who Magazine. Much as I loved the latest Christmas episode, it's a shame they didn't take the opportunity to set it in some far future Christmas. Is (almost) present day Earth to be invaded every 25th December for as long as there are specials?

Elsewhere Davies has mentioned how impressed he is that at the dawn of the series, the Doctor and co would find themselves in a vast range of locations all of which were achieved on a very tiny budget, but for some reason, that hasn't been reflected in the new series, with the various comic strips and novels doing the really wacky experimental things instead (Love & Monsters a tale told from the point of view of a fan of the Doctor accepted). In short, why no pure historicals which are just about the Doctor plus one and the Police Box lost in history?

In 1999, Doctor Who Magazine asked a group of writers who were fans of Doctor Who what they thought the new series would be like. It's become a bit of a legend because they somehow managed to pick on Russell T Davies, Paul Cornell, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat and Gareth Roberts, all of whom would go on to write for the new series in some capacity (the other was Lance Parkin who hasn't yet been tapped despite having tv experience although it's rumoured he was asked but couldn't due to other commitments). At the end of the interview there are two telling quotes. When asked for final thoughts, Moffat says that 'the way you'd know you'd got it right would be if the 11-year-olds all jumped up and down and said it was the best show ever and all the sadder Doctor Who fans muttered that it was no longer serious adult drama like it was when they were 11.' Which is exactly what has happened. Seeing the kids at the Doctor Who Concert goggle eyed but genuinely happy to see all of the monsters and David and the clips from the episodes proves that actually so long as they're happy, that's ok.

All of these grumbles seem like small issues, all artistic choices reflecting the tastes of the current production team. That's always been the way of things with the franchise, each producer or editor having their own idea of what it should be and what it should be about and that's why we love it - none of it looks or sounds the same. The brief was about bringing the series back and making it as accessible by as wide an audience as possible and here we are looking forward to a third series, a rating success all round against stiff competition. The general audience expects a big emotional punch and the domesticity is born from a need to produce a series that reflects people's lives. They're never going to please everyone least of all us fans all of the time, but as the kid in Forbidden Planet being excited about the cd proves, it's not really about us. The final quote in that roundtable is actually from Davies himself and reflects actually how seriously he understood the undertaking: "God help anyone in charge of bringing it back - what a responsibility!"

Review 2006

Kate asks:
Do you think any of the cultural stereotypes about English people are true?

The Misterpoll website has a quiz which attempts to demonstrate how the stereotypes seen in popular culture differ from actuality. Within they actually list the expectations of the stereotype. It's quite shocking to see your entire culture reduced to nine bullet points, and perhaps even more shocking to see how many are actually true.

Drinking tea We do drink an awful lot of tea. Although Starbucks (bless them) and other coffee chains have run riot through all of our city centres making them all look like mini-Seattles, I don't think it's possible to go anywhere without being offered a tea and I'm even drinking a cup right now. I probably go through about three a day and I've never really known why - it doesn't taste that good. But it's warm and brown and it doesn't give you bad breath like coffee. I don't think many people take 'high tea' any more, but when I was working at an art gallery we did have a tea break in the morning and afternoon which felt very civilized and it was the first time I learnt the wonders of warming the mug or pot first.

Wearing bowler (derby) hats I have never seen anyone wearing a bowler hat in the wild. I don't even remember being in a shop that sells them. Most of anything I see around are woolen hats, caps and the kind of fisherman's friend my Dad favours.

Carrying umbrellas Oh yes, everyone carries umbrellas. I think. But not the big black ones you're expecting. Sometimes the golf umbrellas. Mostly they're the ones that fold up and you can keep in your bag. Every job I've had in my career has involved trying to avoid the umbrellas in a doorway, opened out and drying, which I was always told as a child was bad luck.

Talking about the weather Given that I somehow managed to spend a whole question during this obviously misdescribed Review 2006 talking about the weather somewhat proves that it's a national pastime and actually there isn't all that much wrong with that. It's an ice breaker, it's something total strangers have in common and everyone is an expert. And always remember that if it's a rainy day, people will complain but paradoxically they'll also complain if it's just too sunny. People like to talk and it gives them something to talk about. Perhaps Douglas Adams was right, if we do ever stop talking, our brains will seize up.

Speaking in rhyming slang I would say that's a cultural stereotype which is local to London but given that you never see people using it too often in documentaries about the place, I'd say it's only really perpetuated in Guy Ritchie films.

Crooking their little finger when drinking It happens. I think I even do it, although my little finger is slightly crooked and won't bend properly when I do anything. It just sort of hangs there when I type. I just thought everyone did this.

Drinking warm beer That's a stereotype? I don't drink much beer so I can't really comment, although I'd imagine that people go chilled if they can. There is a pub in Liverpool city centre whose chillers never work properly and their beer is always warm. Does that count?

Rioting over soccer Not as much as they used to but it's still prevalent, if not endemic. It does seem to be self perpetuating though. Often with British fans travel abroad, security is stepped up because of the reputation, which means that sometimes there is overkill which can lead to retaliation if too much booze has been drunk. Sometimes I suspect that if the police in these areas weren't expecting a fight, there wouldn't be one.

Queueing The British love to queue. In the January Sales there were massive queues within most stores and its amazing how patient people were being. I did notice that sometimes they were going out their way to queue. In HMV for example, people were simply going to the main bank and there were smaller satellite tills, in the classical music section for example, that were being completely ignored. I suppose the most exciting queue I ever saw happened with Jacqueline Wilson was signing at the WH Smiths and people stood all of the way up Church Street and nearly onto Bold Street.

Being spanked I've looked at this back and forth and I really can't decide on the context. I'm guessing it isn't a sexual thing, but that that pat on the behind that was memorably a plot point in an episode of Friends in which case, oh no. It would lead to much punching.

There were some items missing on that list which I was really expecting, but luckily the wikipedia has filled in the gap:

The English people are stereotyped as being extremely proper, prudish, and stiff with bad teeth. Running my tongue across my molars I can sadly concur with the final item, but given all of the rumpus about binge drinking amongst women and everything else, I think you can actually say the rest is true of British people anymore. It's a generational thing, and people my age and younger do appear to be a lot more . . . relaxed. But, I suppose, it also depends on the social class you're from. Sex and swearing are no longer taboos.

So most of these stereotypes are true, which about what you should expect. That's the point with stereotypes. There is always a ring of truth about them...

Review 2006

Neil of Tachyon TV asks:
BBC4 have just given you carte blanche to create your own TV evening from 7pm-2am. What do you show and why?

Click the picture to see a bigger version.

I've simply tried to create a schedule of programmes which I would really like to watch. There isn't a regular tv music strand covering a range of music from pop to classical and everything in between. I've never seen an in-depth documentary about my favourite Shakespeare play or anything that lists the lid on the tricks of science programme makers. The Spanish Apartment is a great film that no one has seen (largely because it was saddled with the even less interesting title Pot Luck in this country) and Northern Soul is a tv show I tried writing myself years ago. And why isn't After Dark still on the screen wrestling with these big issues? The other thing is self explanatory.

Review 2006

Suw from Strange Attractor asks:
Which bit of trivia about you would you like to be remembered by?

Given that I haven't reached legendary status (yet) it's hard to judge what can be classed as good trivia, especially the trivia my life. The 100 things about me is a good start and glancing through those entries, I'm sure one day I'll elaborate on number twenty-three, 'I haven't seen the girl I had my first kiss with since two minutes after it happened' but given the answer to the love question which still dare not speak its name I think I'm going to choose number ninety-four, 'I once walked through a Macdonalds drive-in to get a burger with the cars. I wasn't drunk' which I wrote about many, many moons ago, but I think bares repeating here because I think it makes me look more daring and crazy than I actually am.

Unless you include the fact that I hadn't my notice in at my job before I knew that I had been accepted to university.

It was 1998, I was in my early twenties and the sitcom Friends was in one of its good patches. My friend Tris had been away and missed much of season two, so I'd been to his then new house for a catch up night. We began at after dinner and by eleven we realised that there are only so many episodes of any programme you can watch in a single evening. As I'm leaving I realise I'm still hungry, and since the only place open at that time of night was Macdonalds, and this was in the years before the release of Super Size-Me, I decide to drop in there on the way home.

When I get to the retail park where the restaurant is (and still is), I find that actually the damn place is shut. This was a bit disappointing, especially since I'd walked in the pouring rain for nearly twenty minutes getting lost on the way. Then I noticed that the drive-thru is open. I look at the people in their warm cars all being served with the processed meat on sesame seed buns with cheese and it just doesn't seem fair that they would get food simply because they're sitting in a shelter on wheels. At the back of my mind, years of watching those tv commercial with the clown coalesced and even though as I've already stressed, I wasn't under the influence of alcohol, I decide that the best thing to do is join the queue. With the cars. Without a car.

The queue is not short - by the time I arrive there must be about twenty-five car. I'm standing there, in my long black woolen coat, which is just sponging up those raindrops, wondering what the personal number plate 'FO 1' means. The kid on the back seat of the car in front is staring at me, and the guy in the car that just pulled up behind me honks his horn. I glare at him and wish I had something to honk back at him.

I stand there for a good ten minutes. As with any good human queue, I move forward with the other bodies, bending the corners in the lane that twists around the building. Of course, I knew all this was vaguely -- unusual. But I kept saying to myself - pickled gerkins, cheese, lettuce, beef, all wrapped up in a sesame seed bun. A guy in a car a few ahead in the queue opens his window and asks me were I left my sun roof.

I first spotted the police as they were cruised up the carriageway. I thought nothing of it. Then they appeared around the corner in front and actually give me a drive by. We eyed each other as they passed-by, and I could tell that they are checking me out to see if I was alright, something which was probably debatable. Was I actually breaking the law doing this? I decide that if I run, or try and disappear, it will look even noe suspicious so I stand my ground. At the back of my mind all I can think of is that I'm about to be done for causing an obstruction or breaking one of the unspoken laws of the road.

The police disappear. I sigh and step forward determined to reach the front.

A window opens in the car in front and a girl drops her head out. She asks me what I'm doing. I tell her I'm waiting in the queue because of my burger craving and because the restaurant is closed. It is now, some twenty minutes after I'd stood there, that she decides to tell me that there is actually a window at the front for people like me (although not obviously people like me) who are on foot. At first I don't believe her. But she insists.

I shrug and approach her.
'Could you do me a favour?' I ask.
She shrugs.
'Could you keep my place?'
It takes a few moments for this to register with her. She nods and says quietly 'Well OK', and I charge off looking for the window, already deciding that I'll simply go home if the window doesn't exist, knowing I'd looked like a tart for quite long enough.

The window exists. I arrive and order a cheeseburger and fries. I'm bedraggled and feel like an idiot. But I tell the girl serving my story, hoping to break her obvious sullenness at having to serve people like me at one o'clock on a Saturday night. She has every right to be depressed. But it has the right effect. She laughs hard and loud though, and then tells me in her lovely Glaswegian accent that I've made her evening and it will come in really useful at 3 o'clock when she still has half of her shift to go. We chat for a moment while she works. She tells me that their computer keeps bollixing up and losing orders. Which is why there is a tailback of cars in a usually efficient system.

I hadn't worked for a while (alright years) and I asks her if it is worth joining that branch and after a moment's thought, she says yes, and tells me were to apply. Like all near-great real life stories, this one doesn't have a punch line, I didn't get her phone number, we did not go out, for issues probably related somewhat to why I never saw the girl I had my first kiss with again. But for now I'm happy with that as my memorable bit of trivia, at least because it proves number ninety-four on the list -- that I don't need to get drunk to do weird things.

Review 2006: Life Props Christmas Special

Annette asks:
What is your favourite film and why?



In The Bleak Midwinter (1995)

It's December 1995, I'm at university the first time around and I live very close to the one cinema I would say that I ever really loved, The Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds. In The Bleak Midwinter turned up pretty much unheralded but I'd read about it in Empire Magazine who gave it a sparkling review and having loved everything else Kenneth Branagh had directed (yes, even Dead Again) and being someway into a lifelong appreciation of Shakespeare I knew had to go and see it..

The Hyde Park was the kind of cinema in which any film could potentially be packed out because the audience tended to go see whatever was on. I took my tall friend Dave with me, even though he wasn't sure if it was his kind of thing - in black and white and about theatre - and we sat at the back of the balcony because there was more legroom.

I'd like to be able to give you a long flowing description of the experience of seeing it for the first time but I really can't. I remember being enchanted and laughing a lot and feeling very Christmassy afterwards and Dave saying that it wasn't what he was expecting and that he really enjoyed it but other than that I'd say that it just made me more excited about seeing Branagh's Hamlet the following year, this almost being a rehearsal for that.

It wasn't until the following Christmas, when I was given the video that I really fell for the film. There was certainly the nostalgia factor - I'd left university by then and it reminded me of a good night out at a place that I wouldn't necessarily be able to go back to with someone I hadn't seen in months. But it was also that it somehow managed to distill everything I felt about Shakespeare into an hour and a half and was also brilliantly funny and touching.

The following year, in 1997, I watched it around Christmas time again while I was wrapping my presents. And again in '98 and since then it's become part of the ritual. When I say that I watch it every Christmas, I really do. Which seems like the definition of a favourite film. Each viewing it means more or less to me than the year before depending on what else is happening in life. Last year I was at university again nd it just fitted into the many hundreds of other films I seemed to be watching. This year I noticed that the main character mentions in his opening monologue that he's thirty-three and I realised that I'd be the same age as him next time I see it.

Perhaps I should provide some background because I know that this isn't a film many people have heard of (it's not even available on dvd). In The Bleak Midwinter (or A Midwinter's Tale as it's called in the US) features Branagh and Shakespeare stalwart Michael Maloney as Joe an out of work actor who decides to produce Hamlet at Christmas time in a disused church in his sister's home village of Hope. With him are a group of actors, some in the offseason from seaside shows, all with their own neuroses and the film charts the rehearsal process and the production. It very much follows the structure and style of the Hollywood backstage films from the heyday of the studio system, except with obvious nods and influences from sources as diverse as Woody Allen, Ealing comedies and silent cinema.

Branagh says that it isn't autobiographical, but when Joe describes his passion for the play, that he saw it when he was fifteen and it changed his life that's exactly what the director has said about seeing Jacobi at the RSC all those years ago. His motivation for making the epic film version of the play later mirrors one of Joe's needs here - to try and make something which has a reputation for being musty and boring and making it exciting for a new generation, essentially dragging out of slow amateur schoolroom readings.

Having tried acting and been around a few actors I can absolutely say that the film captures the brilliance and pain of the art, the fact that it can boil down to bringing the deep seated emotional crap that you try to suppress up to the surface in order to entertain others. But what is really clever, is that having suggested from the opening that all of the characters are pretentious and affected and everything everyone expects actors to be - John Session's raving queen and Richard Briers grumpy old man, for example, in a series of carefully chosen two-handers he carefully peels away the surface and reveals them to be perfectly normal people like us, absolutely aware of the mask they're otherwise wearing to get by in the profession.

I think the film was derided at the time as another opportunity for Ken to give his chums something to do, but I thought it was unfair, particularly since it allows them to reproduce the fragile chemistry that any short term group dynamic has but also because many of them are producing what I think are career best performances. People like John Sessions or Celia Imrie, so often stuck playing grotesques and eccentrics are brilliant here when demonstrating the serious side of their all too camp exteriors. Gerard Horan, latterly typecast as policeman is beautifully touching as Carnforth the man with the drink problem. To be honest the only weak link is Jennifer Saunders with her mad American accent who looks like she's charged in from a Comic Strip skit, but there no doubt she's fulfilling the role of the big producer redolent of the genre.

The film is composed rather like a something from earlier in that century - most of the action plays out in medium or wide shots in deep focus with the actors moving into the foreground and back again creating the effect of seeing characters on a theatre stage - there are very few close ups and they only appear late in the film as the group is fractured and the infighting and arguments have begun in earnest. There are montage sequences, such as the audition process and the costuming but Branagh uses a series of jump cuts and juxtapositions to move the story forward.
Branagh employs lighting akin to film noir which fits the mood of the play in production and there are some lovely compositions as the actors walk in and out of silhouette.

Noir is also implied in the costumes that are finally selected for the production within the film which have a kind of 40s gangster style - and there's a spectacular use of a machine gun which accentuates that idea which I don't want to give away. There's also very little music. The film opens with Noel Coward singing 'Why Must The Show Go On' and ends with a plucked instrumental version of the titular Christmas carol. It's a brave stylistic choice but it gives room for the actor's performances to provide the emotional core and make the one musical moment from inside their story - when Nina (Julia Sawalha) sings Ophelia's lament - all the more heartbreaking.

It has dated slightly. One of the jokes hinges on Mighty Morphin Power Rangers which to be honest seemed out of the date at the time although the target audience will at least have heard of it - I'm not sure what the equivalent now would be - probably Xbox or Wii. Also, when Nicholas Farrell's Tom is auditioning for Laertes, he goes into a wild digression about how relevant Hamlet it and mentions that it's like Bosnia. That would be Iraq now I suppose. One element that hasn't aged is the crucial plot point of the filming of a giant sci-fi trilogy that could be the new Star Wars, especially since we've actually had a new Star Wars trilogy (coindentally featuring Celia Imrie as a fighter pilot) and since and everything seems to be about pre-planned franchises and series now.

Some other things I noticed watching it again the other night - the (uncredited) puppet theatre girl in the audition scene is Katy Carmichael who played Twist in the sitcom Spaced. The brilliance of the acronym LCA - Less Crap Acting. Joan Collins as Joe's agent gives probably her best performance since classic Star Trek's City of the Edge of Forever. That Maloney is the best Doctor Who we never had and is completely wasted playing the range of wackos always seems to now in tv dramas - this is the man who stole Juliet Stevenson from Alan Rickman in Truly Madly Deeply after all.

Stylistically different to anything else what Branagh has directed but still with that love of theatre and theatrics it touches me each year and even with the darkness it somehow manages to put me in the Christmas mood. There is a scene within in which people talk about what makes their life worth living and someone mentions Brief Encounter and offers to buy someone a copy for Christmas. Do yourself a favour and hunt a copy of this down in time for next Christmas because if you're a reader of this blog I really think you'll enjoy it.



Which seems like the perfect moment to run through my ten favourite films of 2006. Something that happened this year is that I stopped getting too excited about release dates and being really quite disappointed with most of the films I've seen at the cinema. But anyway I've managed to hash together the following. Happy Christmas!

Clerks II
Somehow managed to be nostalgic about the original and also a development. Funny, touching and just as quotable. Won't be able to see The Lord of the Rings trilogy in the same light again.

Mission: Impossible III
One of, if not the best action film of the year cruelly overshadowed by its star's public activities. Never thought I'd ever see Simon Pegg and Tom Cruise in the same frame together. Actually enjoyed this more than Casino Royale which was too damn long.

The Prestige
Although it didn't quite manage to sustain its finely balanced storytelling into the final reel, it's still a magnificently atmospheric film with great performances. Yes, even David Bowie.

Superman Returns
About as good as you would want it to be, although I've since wondered if there was slightly too much stylization going on and not enough action - but as an iteration of an old myth it works brilliantly and seeing those credits and that music on the big screen again was gutwrenching.

An Inconvenient Truth
Save the debate about whether this is a real film, I saw it at the cinema which is good enough for me. Brilliantly presented the case for global warming and managed to turn the non-election of AlGore into the White House look like a very big mistake indeed.

The Russian Dolls
This ramshackle sequel to The Spanish Apartment has bags of heart and the moment when Kelly Reilly was left on the railway station platform was one of the saddest of the year. The perfect antidote to having to sit through Love Actually five times when writing my dissertation.(pictured)

A Cock and Bull Story
Somehow managed to make me laugh at two of my least favourite comedians. Another triumph from Michael Winterbottom, this managed to be slapstick and intelligent at the same time.

The Squid and the Whale
Demonstrated once again that shorter films are often the best. Direct and to the point, Noah Baumbach's film seemed to distill what Woody Allen has been trying to do shots and editing since the 90s and succeeds ahead of him.

Volver
The first Almodovar film I've really engaged with, and Penelope Cruz's best performance in years. Particularly worked because as well as being a relationship drama, it was a mystery.

Pan's Labyrinth
With a caveat. I don't think it's the Citizen Kane of fantasy Mr. Mark Kermode although it is still a great historical film about the civil war with one of the greatest devils on screen this year in the shape of that Captain.

Review 2006

Jacob asks:
What are your views on the pedestrianisation of Norwich city centre?

" I'll be honest I'm dead against it. People forget that traders need access to [half moaning] Dixons! They do say it'll help people in [half-sighing] wheeeeelchairs?"
- I'm Alan Partridge Episode 2: Alan Gets It On.

Luckily, I have been to Norwich. An old school friend was living there some years ago and my friend Chris and I drove down from Liverpool to see him one weekend. For various reasons we came home early and got to 'enjoy' the seemingly endless stream of A-roads in and out of the town at day and night and in neither case were they very attractive. What I remember of the city centre is that the cathedral is very nice and that the rest is particularly modular - I remember having to walk through some very anonymous looking streets between the shops you'd actually want to go to.

Despite being a joke, Mr. Partridge isn't wrong about it not benefiting some traders and but improving access to some customers. The system in Liverpool seems to work quite well - although the main shopping areas are covered in block paving there is some access to vehicles earlier in the day and later at night. I should like pedestrianisation - in some cities it's quite thrilling (if that is the word) to be able to walk from one end to the other uninhibited by vehicles and their pollution, foot traffic being the only thing to avoid (particularly people who are walking front of you and just stop dead so you nearly fall over trying to avoid bumping into them - how annoying is that?). In Liverpool, you can stroll down Bold Street and all of the way up to the Victoria Monument at the top of Lord Street with only a crossing at Ranleigh Street.

The counter argument for me though is based on aesthetics. In some cities, pedestrianisation kills the look of the place lessening its impact as collective piece of architecture. One of the main roads in Birmingham, the one with the Odeon cinema used have traffic passing through it and had a lovely metropolitan feel - now there's a deadness to it - an emptiness no number of people can fill. I'd be extremely unhappy too if they ever paved The Headrow in Leeds which has the Boulevard effect even with its smaller dimensions. Some talk about these pedestrian areas leading to a European café culture. Not from what I've seen. It's far too cold, except for about three days during the summer.

The other problem is that pedestrianisation tends to add to the blanding out of city centres generally. Over the past couple of years I've visited both Nottingham and Shrewsbury and sometimes its difficult to remember which city was which and while I was there I was disappointed with how similar they are to every other city I know. Same shops, similar street fixtures and similar paving. In which case I would say that pedestrianisation is bad for Norwich because it'll ruin the individual character of the place.

Review 2006

Alan asks:
What is the significance of the Wolf in American Indian teachings?

I had a job interview in Birmingham on Tuesday. Don't get too excited, I wasn't employed - they phoned me later in the day to let me know, and I received the feedback today and the interviewer listed everything I thought he would say was wrong. Although I'd researched the work I would have been doing, there was a killer question which I simply couldn't answer and which I hadn't predicted which is never a good thing. Some of my answers lacked structure too and as he said I 'bounced around a bit'. Even as I was leaving I was thinking of better things I could have said.

I'd had a bit of a nightmare getting there, with cancelled trains due to fog and having to change at Stafford and my focus drifted and I was over excited when I went in. But the interviewer said that wasn't really reflected and of the five whom they spoke to I was very high on the list. Oh and that they would welcome another application in the future which suggests to me that I'm not totally unemployable I just need to work on my interview style. It was my first in about four years though and it looks like I'm out of practice. But it was a good experience.

I think in the end two things might have done it in for me. Although the job was interesting and I would have loved to have joined the organization I don't think I reflected the passion enough - and the relevant experience I have is some years old now and that was pretty clear in the answers I gave. And at the very end, one of the interviewers told me she had gone to Leeds Metropolitan University and it rapidly became clear that we had been on the same course together and even, probably, shared some lectures and I was very 'Oh that's fantastic' and 'Imagine the odds' and 'This kind of thing happens to me all the time' which wasn't particularly professional probably.

All of which is also sure to disappoint Alan who was expecting a long flowing answer and to be honest I've tried to write an answer but I can't do any better than this website and since I'm really, really tired tonight after a busy week, I hope he'll forgive me if I'm a bad wolf and just offer the lovely picture above and a link to something I think answers his question perfectly and promise that I'll post something amazing tomorrow instead.

http://www.wolfsongalaska.org/wolves_and_native_menu.html

Incidentally, I just now need three more questions to take me through to New Years Eve so if you haven't yet, please do, while there's still time ...

Review 2006

A Lurker asks:
People say money can't buy you happiness. I find this an over simplification of a complicated argument. What is your point of view?

I forgot to buy a lottery ticket this week. It didn't dawn on me until the actually draw was taking place, as Jenni Falconer revealed the increasingly lower potential jackpot. This might not have been much a problem were it not that I play the same numbers every week and have done since the first time the balls popped out of the machine. Over the ensuing moments, I sighed with relief each time the voice of the balls confirmed that no, none my numbers were there and I had been reprieved. On the occasion, I was actually happy that my lottery numbers hadn't come up. I should note that a friend of mine was in the same situation a few Christmases ago and had missed out on a couple of hundred thousand because he'd been too ill to get the newsagents. That is depressing.

The thing is I know that instant wealth wouldn't necessarily make me entirely happy. I know that my family would be comfortable and I would be able to do all of the things I wanted to do, my big plan being to travel the world, see the sights, visit the festivals, friends at home and abroad. From a young age I've wanted to do the grand tour, and I'd be able to do that too. But I'd be traveling alone and in a magnification of my increasingly distant Paris trip I'd be living in hotel rooms and probably dreaming of home. But, if I was to find somewhere to live in the UK, or New York or wherever, I couldn't simply stay in one place if I had the choice to travel and to do things. I'm that kind of person, I have the itch to be doing something, never content to just be content.

In short, I think that if you're the kind of person who gets depressed easily, money isn't going to help. You'll fill your house with stuff, give your money away if you like, but you won't necessarily be happier and if you're someone who is born into wealth or has worked your way into it, you'll probably have even more demands so that you can keep yourself wealthy. You'll inevitably find something else to be depressed or angry about. If you're easily bored too, no matter how many new experiences you have it'll never be enough because you lack the get up and go - that why you were bored before. But if you're already a happy person, seeing light in everything, money will just become an extension of that, money will make you even happier. Although if you were to lose it all, that could make you depressed.

Review 2006

Franchesca asks:
Have you ever had any kind of casual/one of experience with a member of the same sex? Even if just a suppressed crush on an actor or musician etc?

I was reading the other day that Anthony Rapp, star of the musical RENT and film actor with a career stretching back as far as Adventures In Babysitting identifies himself as bisexual. Apart from having to watch his performance in the aforementioned film in a new light, I'm also filled with admiration that anyone can look at their life, more importantly their life experience and realise that actually they do have room for both boys and girls in their heart. Makes the attitude of some straight and indeed gay people look a bit one-dimensional.

Well, my life experience, everything that has happened to me and I'd identify myself as straight. To take the flippant attitude, lusting after Eliza Dushku and wanting to cuddle Ziyi Zhang (to pick two actresses) puts me somewhat in the area but also that I'm generally, always, crushing on someone female proves it to me. Not that there wasn't a period in my late twenties, when, if I'd had anyone to tell, that I did worry because I wasn't in love with anyone and genuinely wondered if I'd lost the capacity. Which is silly.

Anyone expecting some great revelation will be disappointed. I haven't ever had a suppressed crush on an male actor or musician and the less said the better about a drunken night in the Egg Café, during an office party, when after many wines and hearing the top five female lesbian possibles of some work colleagues thought it only proper to return the favour. The non-revelation is that I'm a relatively shy person, appalling at flirting, and that my undergraduate days, with all my gibbering naivety, were hardly the Animal House style sex comedy that I'd been promised. Which is when the one occasion that could at all be considered a casual experience with someone of the same gender happened.

It's my first year, possibly before Christmas when everything is still golden. It's a Friday evening and I'm at the Student Union with hallmates, in the city for the regular STOMP night, four hours of Brit pop and grunge. This is the early-mid-nineties so Oasis and Blur posters are on every student wall and Nirvana is filling speakers everywhere. I wasn't much of a drinker, if at all. But I was incredibly tired having been up early for a lecture (I think) and with so many other drinkers in the room it was almost as though I'd convinced myself I was drunk. I'm already dozy and drowsy, and the details of everything that's happening are already being fogged up ready for the revelatory morning 'I did what?'

I'm standing at the bar, hoping it isn't going to collapse and hoping that they're still serving soft drinks. A man approaches. I don't remember what he looks like, but I have an impression of him being thin with short hair. Somehow we start talking about issues ? I can't remember, although it was probably the wait at the bar. I remember us swapping names, I think, and suddenly beginning to feeling very uncomfortable. Somewhere in the back of my brain I'm beginning to realise that he's chatting me up. I thought I was being chatted up. I wasn't sure.

Not sure enough that I wasn't not suddenly, though slowly, given my condition, trying to size up if I should tell him I'm straight. It could be that he was just being friendly, passing the time, long wait at the bar, and might not like the idea that I was calling him gay in so many words. Even the early nineties weren't as enlightened as the metrosexual now, with it's Queer Eye For The Straight Guy (Victoria Woods' favourite television show apparently), The L Word and How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria? But then why did he ask for my name? That didn't seem right. People who are just passing time at bars don't do that. Do they? Was this a university thing, perhaps? Were everyone is friends with everyone else?

He was served first and bought many beers. And after succeeding in the human feat of being able to carry eight in two hands he walks away. Which should have been the end of the paranoia, but then I'm thinking. If he was chatting me up was it something I said? Did I put him off? Why is the first person to chat me up gay? What's that about? These are the kinds of things you only think when it's late at night and you think you're drunk I'm sure, and I was thinking them. I bought my coke, went and sat on the edge of the dance floor. And the following happened and it underlined for me what I knew already. I wrote the following the following day, I think, and although I know it's partly fictional and not great prose, the essence is true.

He sweated everywhere. Jeans, t-shirt, jacket all wet with the salty liquid, soggy with no clear way of drying himself out in this atmosphere, humid and steamy. The bench at the edge of the makeshift dance floor was low and uncomfortable. His knees were in front him, higher than his waist, his hands resting on them, his feet tapping in time with the drum-ridden rubbish that was being played, rubbish which had been in the music chart at sometime. Although not a drink had passed his lips all night, he couldn't think straight. He was tired, excited and jealous all at the same time.

Next to him, a weedy guy with national health glasses was comparing tongue length with a half- burned blonde. His eyes were close, as though he didn't want to realise that she was only kissing him between sips of lager and puffs of a half burnt cigarette, both of which she held with the hand that wasn't making the lonely dance under the t-Shirt of her 'stand' for the evening. It was a compelling sight. The other side, a woman a few years older than him, in a large, floppy maroon hat, seemed as bored as he was as she glanced at her watch. It was close to midnight. This was her celebration after graduation, but the friend she had come with had disappeared into the crowd with an ex- boyfriend. He thought better of striking up a conversation - the idea of screaming some half-hearted questions about courses over the loudspeaker which hovered above them, wasn't very appealing. He continued to sit and sweat.

Cigarette smoke wafted through the air, mixing with the fibres of his clothing. He thought of the launderette visit which would follow on the Monday, and the owner, who sat strangely, in the shadows, making dribbling noises occasionally. Unknown to him, the graduate had also been there once and a faulty machine had eaten her favourite leggings. Which why she was wearing odd ones tonight - pink and black, green and yellow, they clashed desperately, but worked - somehow.

She got up and disappeared into the dancing mass, as did the tonsil twins, still joined at the mouth. He waited hopefully for some rock. He could mosh very well, but anything would be better than this hell on vinyl which was making his heart beat irregularly. He crossed his legs, closed his eyes and placed his head on the wall of the stage. He was going to ride this out.

When he opened them, time seemed to have stopped, all movement being held stationary, apart from one thing. Just in front of, glazed in blue light, danced an apparition. Her body seemed to become the source of the music, not just ebbing and flowing with it. Nothing about her was that different from her fellow dancers. She was quite short - shoulder length brown hair. A stripy-blue tank top extenuated a ... generous figure. Though he was all too aware of her, she was only aware of the music - her feet sliding her across the dance floor, until the world she lived in eclipsed a party light.

It felt uncomfortable and excited. He knew he was staring, but his eyes would not leave her. What was she thinking? What memories were hidden under the hair which was hovering her hair and rapidly covering her whole face. He ran his fingers through his hair and she repeated the action, the strands disappearing behind her shoulders.

The drums ended, the synthesizers died. Time began again. The small pocket of reality she occupied that he had invaded disappeared. She smiled at some at some friends at the other side of the hall and disappeared into the crowd. He smiled broadly and stood up to rejoin his friends, who were crashing into each other drunkenly on the other side of the hall. He tried to join in, but it was only half-heartedly. The reality he had just experienced, which he had not asked for was infinitely better than the reality had chosen.

To this day I still don't know if I was being chatted up, but even if I was I wasn't confused by the outcome and what happened afterwards and what it meant to me. Some us are gay. Some of us are bi. And some of us are straight. That's the way we are. And if you're being chatted up by anyone you should probably be flattered even if there's no way you'd reciprocate.

Review 2006

Kate asks:
Who's your favourite and least favourite doctor, and companion?

When Doctor Who Magazine recently published the results of their periodical poll asking readers who their all time favourite Doctor was, David Tennant won by a fair margin, dislodging Tom Baker for the first time in years. Since he's the incumbent and a percentage of voters will be new fans who didn't grow up with the floppy haired one and already have that in built affection for him. Whoever takes over from Tennant has a fair chance in a few years time unless something extraordinary happens and they cast Jimmy Carr.

I didn't remember to vote but if I had been there I would obviously have picked Tom Baker. The man was in the part for seven years and defined the role. That's why everyone who followed seemed blander somehow. But actually for me, naming Tom as the best is like saying The Beatles are your favourite rock band. Yes, and? We love Tom. Tom is our hero. Tom is the hero. But even then, there are some stories were he's acting his socks off, doing everything he can to keep things moving and it just sits there. Season Fifteen might start out well with Horror of Fang Rock but by the end you're watching Leela being chased by a Sontaran through what looks like a leisure centre after hours. If Douglas Adams hadn't shown up as script editor a year later, I really don't think we would have held Tom in such high regard.

Which is why whenever anyone asks I tell them it's Paul McGann. It's the interesting choice. It's the one that raises eyebrows, especially with the people who think he got back into the TARDIS in 1996 and didn't come out again. But I don't think I've heard or read an Eighth Doctor story I haven't loved or at least liked. With the shortest TV screen time of them all, he became the experimental Doctor, a way for the many authors who'd written for him to play about with the format, of what a Doctor Who story is.

For the uninitiated, since his short burst on screen the Eighth Doctor has appeared in a series of novels from BBC Books, in an ongoing comic strip in Doctor Who Magazine and on audio with McGann himself in a series of cd plays for a company set up by fans called Big Finish (there was also a brief comic strip moment in Radio Times and a few novellas too). Because many of the writers work across these formats, using the TV Movie and the actors previous film and tv appearances they hashed out a character for him, so that this one voice is heard no matter were he appears.

He's brash and unpredictable, he's nervous but clever, curious yet all knowing. He'll bound into a situation, make mistakes and then relish dealing with the consequences. Unlike Tom you're never sure if he'll really win and sometimes he really doesn't. In the novels, he's literally lost one of his hearts, destroyed his home planet and been exiled on Earth for a century with amnesia. In the comics he took as his companions, a British teenager, a cyberman and a fish-like woman who'd tried to kill him on numerous occasions. On audio, he caused a rip in time, became his own mortal enemy and banished himself into another universe in which time as a concept doesn't exist.

But what I really love is the sheer randomness of it all. Unlike the tv series were all the eras are carefully mapped out and you know were you are with whichever Doctor you're watching, you're never sure what the Eighth is going to do next. In a special moment at the end of The Next Life, this non-reality he's been exiled to is caving in on itself and his only escape route into his real universe is fading fast. But he stops for a moment or two to chide his two companions for not being able be friends along and gets them to grudgingly to bury the hatchet because he doesn't see the point of carrying on if they don't see eye to eye. Life's precious but so is quality of life.

I'm happy the Doctor's back, but I'm sad to see the back of the Eighth. The fact the new men are being considered the Ninth and Tenth perfectly commemorates the work done by the various writers, authors and producers who've kept this multi-media incarnation alive as much more than an hour and half of Americanisms. It was exciting to see Chris stepping out of the TARDIS last March, but for me The Doctor had never been away. He'd just been traveling elsewhere for while.

[One of the, if not the best Eighth Doctor novel, The Dying Days by Lance Parking is available to download at bbc.co.uk. They also have the audio version of Douglas Adam's Shada which is at least worth hearing for McGann's performance even if the dialogue was mostly written for Tom].

Selecting a least favourite Doctor though is a bit like trying to choose the chocolate you don't like in a box of Milk Tray. There simply aren't any toffees. If I have to choose one, obviously it's going to be the Sixth, Colin Baker, although for reasons that will become clear that isn't as easy a choice as it might have been when he first appeared in the role in the Eighties. As I think I've already indicated, a Doctor is only as good as the production team and when Pete became Col, the late John Nathan Turner was the producer. Many fans don't really like John. The perceived wisdom is that he took what was an excellent show into the Eighties, turned it into a pantomime and sucked the pleasure out of it. Inevitably its not that simply because even the Peter Davison era is filled with gems, including Davison's final story The Caves of Androzani being an all-time classic.

The problem with JNT was that his decisions were inconsistent. On paper, the selection of Baker as the Sixth Doctor wasn't that bizarre. He'd already appeared in a popular show called The Brothers and had given a nice little performance in Doctor Who already as Maxill of the Gallifreyan guard in The Arc of Infinity. But then they took the collective decision of sticking him in a brightly coloured patchwork coat and making him an arrogant, unlikeable, shouty little bastard.

Post regeneration he was unstable and in the midst of everything attempted to strangle his current companion Peri, then proceeded to grump around for three episodes before regaining some sympathy at the end cradling a timelord mentor of his who is finally dying. The Twin Dilemma is an all time worst story for the series and coming after Androzani a catastrophic choice especially appearing at the end of the season. The summer gap is probably what did it for the fans as they wondered if they were just going to get another season of the same.

Actually they got a season of the production team trying to deal with a new episode format (45 minutes instead of 25) and the Doctor and Peri bickering constantly. It was fairly obvious that this was supposed to be gentle banter, the annoyance that develops between people who spend their every waking hour together (see also Steptoe and Son but often it got in the way of the story and such scenes usually went on far too long because the stories were being so badly structured. Sometimes it would take whole episode of them standing around in the TARDIS or traipsing around a planet doing this before they would become involved in the main plot and in some cases they'd frequently have little or nothing to do in or with the climax.

All of which has a knock on effect for the appreciation of Baker's Doctor who despite some moments of charm is often brash, conceited and egotistical. Whereas the majority of the other Doctor abhor fatal violence he'd often be in there with a gun or a punch, hardly ever solving problems with his mind. When the hiatus was announced I'm not sure that many people were surprised - even I wasn't at such a young age. If your main character is so unlikable, who's going to tune in.

When the series returned with The Trial of a Timelord, a story spanning a season, some thought had obviously gone into softening the Doctor's personality. There was a new warmth in his interactions with Peri and some of his 'humanity' had returned. Although the bluster was still in evidence in the trial scenes (essentially the story was portmanteau - a metastory framing three others) it was tempered with the obvious defense of his life. It made sense in context.

But by then, that was enough for me. I kept watching but I simply wasn't enjoying the show as before. It just didn't seem relevant, and as well as the production itself it was down the portrayal of the Doctor who'd become a distant figure and certainly not someone you could care too much about. It didn't help that the stories had become so esoteric with the Doctor once again going off the rails as the season progressed.

But it's difficult to say that I completely hate the Sixth Doctor because now, in the Big Finish audios, he's gone into something of a renaissance. Through a general tweaking of the character, this Baker Doctor has gained something of the schoolmaster with all of the bluster and arrogance being part of the bluff rather than a defining character trait. Shorn of the distraction of the costume, Baker's performance too has taken a step up and across the audio is much more coherent. The introduction of a new companion too has, helped with historian Evelyn Smythe telling him off when he's going just too far. Actually their relationship is rather sweet - like too old retirees on a day trip to Brighton, were Brighton is all of time and space.

[Brilliantly, BBCi have one of these stories, Real Time as a webcast.]

Oddly enough this isn't a question which the non-fan usually asks - it's mostly favourite Doctor and Monster. Yet, as Rose in the new series has demonstrated the companion is as much a part of the show as either of those elements, and to a degree more so, but often they're forgotten even though time and again they can be the prime-movers of the plot even if that is getting captured or stumbling into said monster just in time for the cliffhanger ending.

In the new series, Russell T Davies has gone for the iconic. The Doctor and his young female companion who he'll be teaching about the universe. It's the dynamic which has cropped up through all of the latter incarnations during the original series. The cliche is correct in this case, she will be asking him what's going on so that the audience can keep track. As with Chris and Neil, Billie Piper's performance and the writing of Rose Tyler have redefined the role of the companion for the television audience. Although Rose has still done all of the things you need a companion to do, it's been much more subtle and indeed often it's the Doctor who's been asking her for an explanation.

A pattern I've always noticed is that the stories are weaker when this dynamic hasn't been thought through. I've read interviews with former producers, well alright John Nathan Turner, whose attitude was to introduce a companion based on some basic attributes and let the actor fill in the gaps. The problem with that is that it doesn't take into account how that will play with The Doctor of the day -- there needs to be some kind of chemistry and to be honest a good reason for the timelord to choose them as a companion. When this doesn't work is when the companion seems to have been plonked into the TARDIS at random with the hope that magic will happen.

Which is why picking a favourite companion is difficult. The easiest way would be to choose the one you fancy. So either Romana on the beach thank you, with Sarah Jane Smith visiting later for drinks. As with Tennant, Billie Piper scored extraordinarily highly in the DWM poll and for much the same reasons. She was certainly the most clearly defined of the television companions, far more three dimension than most of the others.

But she was standing on the shoulders of giant. Once again we're in the realm of the spin-offs were the Eighth Doctor's companions have all contributed to the new approach. In the BBC range, his first companion was Sam Jones, a teenager from the East End of London (Coal Hill School) with liberal politics and a sharp wit whose in love with the Doctor. Sound familiar? Reading some of those books its often quite easy to imagine that you're reading an adventure for the Tenth and Rose.

But if I'm bring this to the realms of true appreciation, I'm going to have to go for the unusual decision again. Rose, Sarah-Jane and Romana aside, my favourite companion, for the purposes of the people who know what the hell I'm talking about is Charley Pollard. She's McGann's friend in the Big Finish Audio cds (also recently broadcast on BBC7) and over the course of five seasons, redefined the role of the companion to the extent that she's an equal with The Doctor (again sound familiar?).

For the uninitiated, Charley's an Edwardian adventuress who stowed away on an airship, the R101, and rescued by The Doctor just before it blew up in flames. Unlike innumerable television companions who seemed to want to leave the TARDIS as quick as they could (see Tegan etc), Charley genuinely wants to see the universe, grab hold of this opportunity which has been put before her. Aided by India Fisher's superb performance, we heard her present a feeling of utter wonder at what was being shown to her, time and again. But even more unusually considering the job description she's saved The Doctor's life almost as many times as he's saved hers, a hand to hold when the universe is falling apart around him.

The chemistry between Fisher and McGann is so potent that often you're happy just to listen to them chat as the plot passes by around them. One of the best stories of the era, Scherzo (written by Rob Sherman, who's contributed the Dalek episode in the new series) is just them, no other characters, stuck in blank universe where they just walk round and around and its utterly compelling. They were living through the fall out of a previous story, equally classic (for different reasons) Neverland in which Charley told The Doctor she loved him and for the first time we knew the feeling was mutual. Which was somehow less controversial than that kiss in San Francisco and just as touching if not more so than The Girl In The Fireplace and the close of Doomsday combined.

But what's perfect about Charley is that despite the time differential she comes across as a real person. There is the aforementioned outburst, but also her constant irritation that The Doctor drops them in it time and again, and that the universe never quite works right, ever. In later seasons, a third companion was introduced, the chameleonic Cr'zz and although she was polite there was a definite irritation at having to jostle with someone else for the timelord's attention. Such jealousy, as she might say herself it was 'Silly, childish and very human...'

In later stories, Charley has tended towards the generic although this is a side effect of being with the Doctor for so long having drifted beyond her Edwardian roots (which is precisely what Jackie warned Rose about in the last television series). Fisher's performance has still held up though which is why the rumour that her contract hasn't been renewed at Big Finish is a shame - it signals the end for Charlie soon, no doubt because of the introduction of Eighth's new companion Lucie, appearing in the new BBC7 series beginning on new year's eve and ensuing cd releases.

Selecting a least favourite companion should be easy, because there have been so many. One of the reason the series drove itself into cancellation bay in the first place was that the writers fundamentally misunderstood the dynamic of the companion being the viewer's way into the series by making them so alien even when they were human. At no point is anyone going to sympathise with a Tegan or an Adric even if vast android hordes with big guns are massed just inches away. When Adric flew a ship into the Earth and wiped out the dinosaurs in his exit story Earthshock, the only reason it was shocking and sad was because it had taken so long to give him something dramatic to do.

But if I was to give any of them the sharp end of a Dalek gun it would be Dodo Chaplet. Dodo was a companion of the first Doctor and literally stumbled into the TARDIS thinking it was a real Police Box when it landed at the end of a historical adventure when the Doctor's ship randomly landed in contemporary (for then) London. In her first story, The Ark she managed to pass a flu bug on to the last vestiges of the human race living in a space ark, giving room for their servants the Ood-like Monoids to take over. And that's about the most exciting thing to happen to her. From then on in she's a placeholder, someone for the other companion Steven to talk at, her only other high point being a song and dance routine in The Gunfighters. As an editor at the Wikipedia describes her: "Dodo's personality was a bright and happy one, but she was ultimately not very sophisticated."

It was probably not actress Jackie Lane's fault. For much of the previous story, the Doctor has knocked about with Steven the space pilot and the cool but ill-fated Sara Kingdom and there was probably some directive that said that the Doctor couldn't just knock around with another man. But Dodo was simply ill thought out and lacked depth and she found herself stuck into a string of not great stories - the tedious The Celestial Toymaker and the dry The Savages. She was eventually inauspiciously replaced by the far more swinging Polly in her final adventure The War Machines but wasn't even granted a proper farewell. Feeling ill she was shipped off to the country for a rest and never heard from or mentioned again.

Inevitably she gained an afterlife in the spin-offs and in David Bishop's Who Killed Kennedy by David Bishop is was revealed that Dodo had suffered a nervous breakdown and was unable to remember her adventures with the Doctor, drifting in and out of psychiatric institutions. She eventually became involved with a journalist that was investigating the truth behind UNIT and was ultimately murdered by the Master. Unless you're reading Daniel O'Mahony's The Man in the Velvet Mask in which case its inferred that she contracted a fatal dose of VD.

The reason I've picked her as my least favourite that she's everything that people who know nothing about Doctor Who expect a companion to be - bland, lacking in characterization and a screamer. About the only good moment she has is in the beginning of The War Machines when the Doctor leaves an out of order sign on the TARDIS because they're in the 60s and its in its right era at least visually. She and the Doctor share a giggle and it feels right and finally there is chemistry. I can't remember a single thing that she did in the rest of her time on the show other than that she knocked Peter Purves's Steven, who was becoming one of the best ever companions, off his stride by stealing half of the material.

Not long now until Martha Jones takes a bow and like Rose she's appearing with a family and back story already in place. Although there's a debate about whether she's the first non-white companion (What about Mickey? What about Anji and Ros or Alison in the spin-offs?) its another sign of the new version of the show wanting to do more with the Doctor/companion dynamic. To what extent will her ethnicity be an issue when they travel into a past when the colour of someone's skin was still a barrier - will they confront or avoid? Either way its got to be handled better than Dodo's cockney origins ...