A New Man Saunters Away...

Although your Mad Prophet is typically concerned with blogging about film, he's also a rabid Whovian (fan of Doctor Who , for the unacquainted). With the series about to move into a new era under producer and head writer Steven Moffat, it's time for a blog about the show.

18th June 2005. Over the last thirteen weeks, I've been transfixed by an 900-year-old alien who talks like he's from Manchester, whisking Billie Piper around in time and space. She's been put in mortal peril during a fight with his nemeses, the Daleks, and he's seemingly given his life to save hers. I knew this was coming though, and that someone else would be playing the Doctor by 7.45pm. Because Doctor Who is the kind of show I really wish had been around when I'd been the same ages as the target audience (i.e. 8 years old), I had really got sucked into it, and I was certain this new fella couldn't possibly be as good as Christopher Eccleston had been. The show had been fantastic, and d'you know what? So had he.

A volcano of golden light erupted from the neck and sleeves of Eccleston's jumper and David Tennant entered the building. You can probably guess where this story is going. I still wasn't convinced by his first few seconds that the Tenth Doctor would be as good as the Ninth, but in the six months between the end of the first series of Russell T. Davies' Doctor Who revival and David Tennant's first episode proper, I went back over the series' rich history a little and grew accustomed to the idea of different Doctors. William Hartnell's irascible charm and warmth, Patrick Troughton's mischievousness, Jon Pertwee's tech-fetish, Tom Baker's eye-boggling Bohème and Peter Davison's exasperated observation of a chaotic universe, Colin Baker's pomposity and slight insecurity, Sylvester McCoy's wily machinations and Paul McGann's unfortunate brevity. I realised later that David Tennant was the first bonafide fan of Doctor Who to take the lead role.

The news media frequently reference Tennant's accolades as the best Doctor from opinion polls and the like, and I'd actually agree. That's mostly because Tennant really properly loves the show. This is the man who answered 100% correctly with the show as his specialist subject on a Comic Relief special of Mastermind. The man who asked an audience on The Graham Norton Show if they knew the name of an extra from 1969's Troughton serial, "The Mind Robber". And aside from being a brilliant actor in any case, he's taken on the best parts of all his favourite Doctors in his own portrayal, creating the Nation's Favourite Doctor (TM).

Of course, all things must end, but between the announcement of Tennant's departure from the role in October 2008 and his final episode on New Year's Day 2010 was a long hard emotional slog. OK, so we got two fun romps at Christmas and Easter respectively, The Next Doctor and Planet of the Dead, but the TARDIS cloister bell was tolling all the way through the specials in the gap year of 2009. There was a promise that someone would knock four times, and that, as the Tenth Doctor put it in one of those specials, a new man would saunter away from the Doctor's death.

Enter Matt Smith, who was cast as the Eleventh Doctor and announced to the nation in January 2009. My honest first impression- that he looked slightly like one of those Easter Island heads. I reserved judgement on what he'd be like in the role, because all I really had to go on was a semi-lucid recollection of his supporting role in the Sally Lockhart adaptations. Certainly I didn't think it was a bad thing that he's the youngest Doctor to date- he's not a teenager, and his early interviews were instantly endearing. A shroud of secrecy surrounded the filming of the next series of 13 episodes, not only out of Steven Moffat's notorious enmity for spoilers, but also because the Tenth Doctor was still very much in the public eye in the run-up to his closing trilogy of episodes- The Waters of Mars and The End of Time, Parts One and Two.

David Tennant is a tremendous actor, and is my second favourite Doctor. Yep, second. Because as good as Tennant is, no one really trumps Patrick Troughton as the Second Doctor for me. He's mercurial, cheeky and utterly brilliant in that role whenever you see him, and it's the greatest tragedy in television history that so many of the videotapes containing his serials were wiped by the BBC in the 1970s. Now just six survive in complete form, with an extra serial completed using animation on DVD, which makes me and many other Whovians desperately sad. His was a wonderful portrayal and it's a shame we can't see more of it.

The point where I was really convinced Smith was going to be great was not around any of the clips released in advance of his first full episode, to be broadcast on BBC One tonight, but when I heard how he'd researched for the role. Back in January, he professed that he hadn't really watched the series before. By the time he started filming, he was clad in a bowtie and bumbling around his TARDIS in homage to his new favourite Doctor- none other than Troughton. While I'm sure the Eleventh Doctor will have his own identity, it heartens me to think that in Smith, we have a chance to see more of the Second than ever seemed likely once those tapes where wiped.

Tennant is still typically "my Doctor", having gone through much of the show with him in the lead role, and it was of course heartbreaking to see him go to his death at the start of the year. Opposite John Simm as a ravenous and mad Master and the sublime Bernard Cribbins as Wilf, knocking four times and causing the death of the very man he wants so much to live, Tennant gives a wonderful final performance to cap his tenancy of the TARDIS, with the audience agreeing with him all the way as he sadly utters his last- "I don't want to go."

In typical TARDIS fashion, I'm going to skip back to just before and after this moment to let you know exactly why we should be looking forward to "The Eleventh Hour". Before the mortally Tennant finally makes his way back to the police box he's called home for so long, he encounters a vision of an Ood, a prophetic and telepathic race who reassure him that his death will not be the end. And there are few better summaries of the show's ethos through regenerating Doctors these past 46 years than the Ood's solemn "This song is ending, but the story never ends".

Directly after "I don't want to go", the score swells as the Doctor explodes with golden light once again, revealing Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor. With Tennant's popularity, this is effectively a parallel with the transformation from Tom Baker to Peter Davison back in 1981. Davison was restricted by poor writing to spend his first two episodes moping around the TARDIS after something called a Zero Room, but Smith is immediately pitched into a new life in a crashing spaceship, hurtling towards the Earth. His priority? "Legs! I've still got legs! Good!"

The show has survived many regenerations in the past, and after a year of following the Tenth Doctor's final sentiments right up to the point he actually voiced them, I can't wait for Doctor 11. Daleks, living statues and vampires all await an eager audience in the next 13 weeks, as the new man doesn't so much saunter from his TARDIS as bring it hurtling towards planet Earth, screaming and aflame. Geronimo!


The new series of Doctor Who begins with The Eleventh Hour on BBC One and BBC HD tonight at 6.25.

I'll be reviewing the latest stories, generally fortnightly, here on the blog throughout the series' run.

A Brit Inconsistent

With 2009 more or less over and done with for this blog, there's enough time to cover two late entries to last year's cinematic catalogue, and they're both British efforts. People might have noticed that half of my top 10 films of last year were British productions, which might suggest that we're getting better at it. Or that I'm intensely patriotic. Either way, I can't really put Nowhere Boy or St. Trinian's- The Legend of Fritton's Gold even close to any of those five films in terms of quality.

As something of a regular disclaimer, it's only my opinion here- others are available. As ever, mild spoilers may occur in the process of reviewing, but never so far as to spoil any major plot developments.

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Fresh off the back of his departure as "Doctor Who", David Tennant launches the plot of St. Trinian's- The Legend of Fritton's Gold as the misogynistic Lord Pomfrey, the leader of a secret sexist society called AD1. He and his ancestors have been at odds with the Fritton family since the time of Queen Elizabeth I, and is prepared to unleash hell upon headmistress Camilla and her niece Anabelle. He's after a secret treasure that the Frittons stole from the Pomfreys centuries ago, but the students of St. Trinian's school rise to the challenge and try to get to the treasure first. It's apt that this film's plot is all about chasing money and riches when its predecessor was one of the most successful British independent film of the last decade. There's no other reason to make this bugger.

Yeah, David Tennant is brought into prominence in that summary, and that's possibly because I'm a Doctor Who fan, but it's mostly because I honestly have no idea why he's in this. He's the RSC's Hamlet! Ironically, the very script seems to rub this fact in his face, with the climax being set at the Globe Theatre and staging a "hilarious" performance of "Romeo and Juliet", with a be-dragged Rupert Everett being an impromptu Juliet. "Christ, this is interminable", says Pomfrey, and it's almost like Tennant has just realised where he is and broken character. More than that though, I bring Tennant to the fore to point out the key contradiction of the film- we're presented with a villain who hates women. This is a film about girl power, because women are individuals too, and that's why the Nerdy One, the Chavvy One, the Ditzy One and the Twins have to stop him! Come on, it's already hard enough to root against the fucking Tenth Doctor, without the cookie-cutter heroines seeming to prove his archaic views about women!


Of course I'm aware that women aren't silly or uniform, and that's why it's one of the key failings of The Legend of Fritton's Gold. Then again, I can list many more of those flaws- it's over-long, not very funny and still quite leering about its nubile young protagonists. It also does that really desperate trope of referencing Proper Films in an effort to prevent the older and saner audience from trying to drown in their large Coke. A reference to The Exorcist in a film aimed at pre-teen girls? Really? These are pretences that the film is anything more than a sexed-up piece of nostalgia for the original St. Trinian's films of the 50s and 60s and a cash-in on the success of the more recent 2007 remake. Some of the more talented cast soldier on well by camping their way through it, especially Tennant, Everett and Colin Firth. Neither can I really fault Tallulah Riley or Monserrat Lombard, the latter of whom gave me the only laugh of the film.

St. Trinian's- The Legend of Fritton's Gold is formulaic filmmaking, specifically the formula of its predecessor. If a St. Trinian's 3 were forthcoming in 2011, you could almost call this the cinematic equivalent of panto. Uncomfortable to sit through, with its cartoonish stereotypes and Rupert Everett in drag, and rolls around semi-annually at Christmas. Throw in a glut of bawdy jokes and all you have missing is for the audience to start booing David Tennant, who I hope will now go in a different direction with his film career than this. Co-starring with Sarah Harding off of Girls Aloud, and she really might have been credited as that, isn't the best start. The high camp factor is generally harmless, but the film really has very little to recommend.


Nowhere Boy is a study of the eighteen-year-old John Lennon, and also covers the formative years of the Beatles. John is something of a repressed genius, living with his uptight aunt, Mimi. When his beloved uncle dies suddenly, he's thrown into turmoil. Shortly after, he discovers that his biological mother, Julia, lives just around the corner from Mimi and begins meeting her in secret. The two of them share a love of rock and roll that brings them together, but the shadow of their separation so early on looms large, and John eventually becomes determined to find out the truth.

I'm not the biggest aficionado of The Beatles, but it's one of my resolutions for 2010 to finally get around to listening to their full back catalogue. I know several people who could probably tell me all about John Lennon's early years and why I shouldn't enjoy listening to "Octopus' Garden" as much as I do, but I hope that prepared me for Nowhere Boy a little better- the film should embed an understanding of Lennon. As a precaution though, I went along with two Beatles fans as a barometer. One of them said afterwards that they'd fabricated much of the backstory for dramatic purposes, and in my capacity as a reviewer, I'd say that's possibly one of the film's failings. Sure, we see plenty of the lairy Lennon haring around 1950s suburbia being cooler-than-thou, and newcomer Aaron Johnson's performance is fair enough, but this isn't the most probing biopic you'll ever see.


On the other hand, it's refreshing to see that Lennon isn't entirely idealised to enamour new audiences with some legend of his life. Johnny Cash's estate probably sold more records following the release of Walk the Line, but this quite rightly sticks with the period it's chosen, with the clever exception of an opening twang of "A Hard Day's Night", retooled to become more foreboding than was ever intended. More than that, I'm led to believe that Lennon was a well-reputed arsehole, and that arrogance is transposed to Johnson on-screen well enough. The problem for me was that I'd really rather have seen more of Anne-Marie Duff and Kristin Scott-Thomas as Julia and Mimi, the two sisters feuding for John's love. That's where the real story is in Nowhere Boy, but these two are sidelined by almost Walk Hard-esque introductions to the young Paul McCartney and the young George Harrison. If you want to know why Ringo Starr's not there, witness Lennon's cavalier attitude to getting a drummer for his first band, the Quarrymen. There's not a lot of Ringo love.

Quite aside from the quibbles about accuracy, both Beatles fans seemed to enjoy Nowhere Boy, so on that count I can only give it a thumbs up. I'm sure I'm not the first person to be telling you about this film if you're a properly paid-up Beatles fan though, so shall say this to those who don't know the ins and outs of the band's members and their lives. It's a very likable film indeed that's very easy to relax into. The trouble is that the emotional content of later scenes jars with the happy-go-lucky stuff earlier on. It's not a bad film, but with its unlikable teenage protagonist, it does feel like an episode of "Skins" transplanted into the 1950s. With some of the Beatles in it.

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Right, now we can start 2010 proper. I'm thinking I might skirt around Did You Hear About The Morgans? purely because I don't need that kind of pain in my life, but this week sees the release of Daybreakers and The Road, as well as the arrival of Korean vampire horror Thirst at a cinema within reaching distance of your faithful reviewer. Expect reviews of those films shortly, but in the meantime, please share your own thoughts on Nowhere Boy and St. Trinian's 2 if you've seen them in the comments below.

I'm Mark the mad prophet, and until next time, don't watch anything I wouldn't watch.