WHO 50: 1986: The Trial of a Time Lord.

TV At least in television terms, and disregarding Dimensions in Time, the Sixth Doctor’s final words on television are:

”Carrot Juice, carrot juice, carrot juice.”

Poor Colin.

As originally written this must have seemed like a fun gag. In the Terror of the Vervoids section of the Trial, the hitherto unseen Mel is attempting to drag the Doctor into a much healthier lifestyle. So exercise bikes and yes, carrot juice.

The problem is, because Colin was fired before the next season and didn't understandably turn up for the regeneration (it's Sylvester in a wig), these final lines have now become part of the show's history, turning up in pub quizzes and trivia boxes in newspapers ever since.

Notably, Cavan Scott & Mark Wright's Whoology an officially licensed publication which notices that in theory we don't actually know what his last words before regeneration were (though Gary Russell's Spiral Scratch gives it a go).

Not quite "You were fantastic..." we all snigger as we then realise the Seventh Doctor's final lines aren't the big speech at the end of Survival but whatever he says on the operating table in the TV Movie.

For years I’ve listened to the carrot juice line and for years I’ve wondered what carrot juice actually tasted like, and so for the purposes of experiencing everything the Doctor Who franchise has to offer, I shall be tasting carrot juice.

Carrot juice, in its purest unadulterated form is surprisingly difficult to find. It’s certainly not in most supermarkets were it's usually mixed with orange or included as part of some root vegetable concoction.

A call out to the Twitter hive mind yielded some public bar related suggestions but since I want to be carrying out this experiment in front of a keyboard, and to be fair in private, I had to try some lateral thinking and eventually realised Holland and Barrett was a solution. Which it was.

This bottle was therefore purchased last Friday at the Holland and Barrett shop in Whitechapel, Liverpool at a cost of £3.60.

Reader, I spluttered and asked if they had a smaller bottle. They did not.

I expect the reason it's this expensive is because of the number of carrots involved in the manufacture and the cost of said vegitables. Here’s a highly instructive video about how to make carrot juice:



A year later, the process seems to have become rather simpler:



I imagine the man in the first video watching the second video and rethinking his priorities. But to be fair, I am the one who's testing and tasting carrot juice because it was mentioned in an 80s example of genre sci-fi television.

The glass of juice is poured now and I’m about to taste it. Wish me luck.

First reaction. It’s carrot in liquid form. It’s strong, very strong. Sour.

Second reaction after another sip. I can see why it’s generally mixed with other things, because it has, for want of a better description, a kind of caffeine kick and not in a particularly pleasant way. It’s without doubt one of the worst liquids I’ve had in my mouth. Ick.

That was money well spent then. I can see why the Sixth Doctor had this reaction:



Colin didn't need to do much acting here. Hopefully there weren't too many retakes. Poor Colin.

WHO 50: 1985: Timelash.

TV It's almost impossible not to grimace through Timelash. It's rubbish.

On paper there are some great ideas in here which wouldn't look out of place in one of Russell T Davies's pre-season episode plans for nu-Who: the return to the setting of an old adventure which is played very much as though we're supposed to have seen it in the series a few decades before; a stable wormhole dropping inhabitants of a planet far in the future into the dark ages (with the effects each of those appearances could have on the timeline) and most squandered, the idea of the Doctor meta-fictionally meeting one of his Dionysian imitatio, HG Wells.

But no matter what Colin and co might imply in the entertaining dvd commentary, it's a shambles and not even gloriously so. Everyone seems under-rehearsed, the script is underwritten in places, overwritten in others, the Bandrill is as disappointing a creature as has appeared in the series and when, not even the overacting and overreacting of Paul Darrow can save a pantomime like this you kind of wonder why anyone would want to buy it let alone watch it.

On the back of a new series, I really hope that there aren't any kids for whom this was their first classic story -- perhaps 2Entertain should have put a label on the back warning them to go and buy Genesis of the Daleks instead or have someone call a spade a spade and use some naughty words in the surprisingly honest documentary in an attempt to drive up the BBFC rating -- which on the face of it could have least included the description from the sleeve notes on the inside contains 'uninspiring sets and costumes'.

But (surprise) I don't come to completely bury Timelash. Because there is one good scene. Or rather shot. Here it is in full:



As film theorist David Bordwell explains in his brilliant exposition, this kind of shot is becoming increasingly common in film, in everything from Wes Anderson's movies to underrated I, Robot. He describes:

"The camera stands perpendicular to a rear surface, usually a wall. The characters are strung across the frame like clothes on a line. Sometimes they’re facing us, so the image looks like people in a police lineup. Sometimes the figures are in profile, usually for the sake of conversation, but just as often they talk while facing front."

That's not exactly what's going on here -- the studio camera is at a slight angle, but it's not often that you see the Doctor and his plus one simply in repose like this waiting for the next bit of plot to come along (unless they've been captured for the umpteenth time and it's the point in the story when Pertwee gets to deploy his moment of charm).

More often than not the Doctor is moving around, making plans, investigating. But here he is almost relaxed. But more than that, it's almost as though, in midst of some of the blandest direction known to the series, Pennant Roberts has, at least for a few seconds, decided to show the state of the relationship between these two travellers and their attitude to adventure.

They look used to one another, like the old married couple they're often described as because of the endless bickering, not even looking at each other, looking into the environment. There's a stillness to it. There was a paparazzi photo taken during the making of the first new series of Chris and Billie sitting side by side in their own star chairs texting someone and their attitude was the same as this, relaxed yet also somehow tense in one another's company.

The close ups within this scene are within the same plain -- in other words when we see Colin and Nicola's heads they're positioned as they are now, which is the kind of editing language prevalent in old Hollywood (you can see it often in Frank Capra's films) and that helps to elaborate on this mood. Then as the scene progresses, the effect is spoilt as the story kicks in again and anything related to real human drama goes out of the window.

Does this one shot save the story? Oh good god no, it's utter garbage, the whole other eighty-eight minutes. But just for a few brief moments, both of these characters become interesting and mysterious and we offered a glimpse of what could have been.

Timelash.

TV Just like everyone else, I've been grimacing my way through the new dvd release, Timelash. On paper there are some great ideas in here which wouldn't look out of place in one of Russell's pre-season episode plans for nu-Who: the return to the setting of an old adventure which is played very much as though we're supposed to have seen it in the series a few decades before; a stable wormhole dropping inhabitants of a planet far in the future into the dark ages (with the effects each of those appearances could have on the timeline) and most squandered the idea of Doctor meta-fictionally meeting one of his inspirations HG Wells.

But no matter what Colin and co might imply in the entertaining commentary it's a shambles and not even gloriously so. Everyone seems under rehearsed, the script is underwritten in places, overwritten in others, the Bandrill is as disappointing a creature as I'd been led to believe and when, not even the overacting and overreacting of Paul Darrow can save a pantomime like this you kind of wonder why anyone would want to buy it let alone watch it.

And on the back of a new series, I really hope that there aren't any kids for whom this is their first classic story -- perhaps 2Entertain should have put a label on the back warning them to go and by Genesis of the Daleks instead or have someone call a spade a spade and call it something naughty in the surprisingly honest document in an attempt to drive up the BBFC rating -- which on the face of it could have least included the description from the sleeve notes on the inside contains 'dull, uninspiring sets and costumes'.

But (surprise) I don't come to completely bury Timelash. Because there is one good scene. Or rather shot. And here it is:



As film theorist David Bordwell explains in this brilliant exposition, this kind of shot is becoming increasingly common in film, in everything from Wes Anderson's movies to underrated I, Robot. He describes:

"The camera stands perpendicular to a rear surface, usually a wall. The characters are strung across the frame like clothes on a line. Sometimes they’re facing us, so the image looks like people in a police lineup. Sometimes the figures are in profile, usually for the sake of conversation, but just as often they talk while facing front."

That's not exactly what's going on here -- the studio camera is at a slight angle, but it's not often that you see the Doctor and his plus one simply in repose like this waiting for the next bit of plot to come along (unless they've been captured for the umpteenth time and it's that point in the story when Pertwee gets to deploy his moment of charm).

More often than not the Doctor is moving around, making plans, investigating. But here he is almost relaxed. But more than that, it's almost as though, in midst of some of the blandest direction known to the series, Pennant Roberts has, at least for a few seconds, decided to show the state of the relationship between these two travelers and their attitude to adventure.

They look used to one another, like the old married couple they're often described as because of the endless bickering, not even looking at each other, looking into the environment. There's a stillness to it. There was a paparazzi photo taken during the making of the first new series of Chris and Billie sitting side by side in their own star chairs texting someone and their attitude was the same as this, relaxed yet also somehow tense in one another's company.

The close ups within this scene are within the same plain -- in other words when we see Colin and Nicola's heads they're positioned as they are now, which is the kind of editing language prevalent in old Hollywood (you can see it often in Frank Capra's films) and that helps to elaborate on this mood. Then as the scene progresses, the effect is spoiled as the story kicks in again and anything related to real human drama goes out of the window.

Does this one shot save the story? Oh good god no, it's utter garbage, the whole other eighty-eight minutes. But just for a few brief moments, both of these characters become interesting and mysterious and there's a window into what could have been.