Author Archive for Jon

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Happy Birthday Russell T Davies

It was Russell T Davies birthday today. He was 46.

For those not in the know Russell T Davies is responsible for single handedly destroying the Doctor Who franchise with his ludicrous storylines and his shoehorning in of his own personal agenda to story lines. This is him.

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Under his tutelage the series has seen its popularity rocket and its credibilty plummet.

He has been responsible for some of the most awful dialogue ever to be written, reaching its nadir with Banakafalata‘s famous speech about his shame at being a cyborg (gay) and Astrid Peth‘s rejoinder that there was no need to be ashamed at being a cyborg (gay) as cyborgs (gay people) can marry!

He is a first rate writer of drama but his grip on sci-fi is poor at best. His departure from Doctor Who can only be viewed as a good thing and I wish him every success with his next project, provided that is that it isn’t the Doctor Who movies.

And In No Particular Order…

People have asked me, not many people but people, if Doctor Who is so shit why do you own so many Doctor Who DVDs?

It’s a good question, it really is. The answer is quite clearly that I don’t think Doctor Who’s shit per se, just a bit shit. You know what I mean?

As far as I’m concerned the Doctor is an amazing creation that has been portrayed very well by a number of great actors and if you were to ask me I would list them thus.

  1. Tom Baker
  2. Peter Davison
  3. Paul McGann
  4. Jon Pertwee
  5. Christopher Eccleston
  6. Patrick Troughton
  7. David Tennant
  8. William Hartnell
  9. Sylvester McCoy
  10. Colin Baker

Any argument with that?

I thought not.

The New Doctor

As it happens posts on the new Doctor.

  • 18:08
    I’m done. This is more than a little disappointing.
  • 18:07
    Blah, blah. Matt Smith is now telling us he he got a letter from David Tennant. Cloying horseshit.
  • 18:03
    My bad. He does. Have a look.
  • 18:01
    He doesn’t even have an IMDB entry! This could be great, or very, very shit.
  • 18:00
    Matt Smith is the new Doctor. Who the fuck is Matt Smith?
  • 17:59
    Ooh, They’re talking regeneration!
  • 17:57
    Paul McGann gets a decent length of time though. Steven Moffat likes the idea of snogging too. Hmmm.
  • 17:56
    Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy only get 20 seconds!
  • 17:55
    The new Doctor looks old but is young. Who is it? Flipping heck it’s confusing.
  • 17:54
    Steven Moffat also likes Tom Baker’s performance!
  • 17:50
    The new Doctor is 26!
  • 17:48
    Steven Moffat really likes John Pertwee. A good sign!
  • 17:46
    Blah, blah, it’s a Doctor retrospective. RTD wittering on about how the series has never changed. Bollocks.
  • 17:42
    Martin Freeman is just younger than David Tennant but is he an unknown?
  • 17:39
    The new Doctor is younger than David Tennant and an unknown.

Well That’s That Pooched Then

No sooner had I posted the Super Hans for Doctor Who than BBC posted the news that the new Doctor would be revealed on the 3rd January. They’ve also pulled that he-or-she cobblers again.

I’m not impressed.

Unless of course Super Hans is the next Doctor!

Super Hans For Doctor Who!

After lengthy dicussions, we have decided that the ideal actor to play Doctor Who after David Tennant is Matt King, or as you may know him Super Hans from Peep Show.

Look at him, he’s perfect!

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If you agree, please add your name to our petition by clicking here.

Russell T Davies: Visionary

I posted the following piece on crackerwax.com in May 2007. I think it bears repeating though.

Russell T Davies has a wonderful sense of what science fiction can and should be like, read this and you’ll see what I mean.

Whatever you do on Doctor Who, whatever technology or futurism you’re putting on screen, it’s always going to look like it was made now and it should. You know, science fiction in the sixties looks like it was made in the sixties, the seventies, eighties. The worst and most stupid thing you can do is go in to a meeting and say let’s make it timeless.

For a start, why? I think these programs are a record of the year in which they are made and they should be and they should show that off, and plus you can’t fight it that’ll creep in anyway. There’s no such thing as a timeless design, ever.

And I think partly you have to celebrate that.

What a dick. Of course you can have timeless design, it just takes effort. Effort that you’re not prepared to make Russell. Then again it is possibly beyond your capabilities.

Take a look at Star Wars, thirty years old and you’d be hard pushed to definitively tell that it’s a product of the seventies. It was designed to be mundane but exotic all at the same time.

Try Blade Runner. I couldn’t tell if that was from 1982 or 1997, it’s so sure footed of its place within the framework the creators constructed around it. The film believes in itself and this shines through.

How about Firefly? That has a powerful sense of self that doesn’t place it in any particular place but does use a ‘wild west’ motif to reinforce the frontiersman aspect of its particular brand of science fiction. This suits it thematically yet it manages to blend this very strong ‘wild west’ idea with sci-fi technology and does so without it jarring.

Of course the big daddy of modern sci-fi is Battlestar Galactica. It’s a work of art, weaving stories and technology together cohesively to form a strong bond between the two, each driving the other forward.

Galactica’s technology remains believable, allowing the characters space to interact and play out the plot as a whole without having to rely on gimmicks as hinges that join little bits of plot together.

So before you indulge in any more pointless fucking waffle, there just to apologise for your piss poor stories and special effects, think about making a better television series.

I would be amazed if there were a series bible for Doctor Who, it seems that story lines, character arcs and technologies are just created on a whim, without any thought for canon or future progression. There just to solve a particular problem in a particular story.

In Doctor Who the universe is built around the story. That’s the wrong way to do it and it shows.

I think that T must stand for twat.

The Next Doctor

Before I start I would like to get the positivity out of the way. I liked David Morrissey in this, he was good.

Right, now that’s out of the way on with the beating.

Another year and another Russell T Davies written Christmas Special, this year’s was hyped on the basis that it would contain the unveiling of the next Doctor. Of course that wasn’t something anybody would confirm. In fact they went to such great lengths to keep the mystery intact that they called it The Next Doctor.

For fuck’s sake, I ask you. Anyway that aside, time for a brief plot outline.

The newly companion-less Doctor lands in Victorian London, out for a bit of Christmas fun. Were made to understand that it’s Victorian London in the usual Russel T Davies manner by the heavy handed use of cliché.

To ensure that we get it, the first thing the Doctor strolls through is a Christmas market. It’s full of roast chestnuts, people walking home with turkeys, carol singers and cheeky scamps in flat caps. In fact the only thing it’s lacking is Queen Victoria, which for Doctor Who is a fucking Christmas miracle all of its own.

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However not even two minutes into his perambulations the Doctor hears a familiar cry. Doctor! Doctor! You may want to sit down at this point because this is where it gets really exciting.

He investigates, finds that the cries are emanating from a busty wench in an alley (we’ve all been there) but, and hold on to your hats folks, it not him she’s calling for! There must be another Doctor! Madness!

After a brief period spent watching David Tennant doing his trademark mini-gurn, the Next Doctor (David Morrissey) arrives on the scene proclaiming himself to be the Doctor, the one, the only, the best. A Cybershade bursts through a door and bingo we get the titles.

The Cybershades are a pathetic excuses for a lack of budget and will be getting their own post soon but suffice to say, they’re fucking awful. I mean look at them!

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After a brief and unsuccessful chase scene involving a warehouse and some hilarious fucking about with ropes, we get to the bones of the matter. The Cybermen are in Victorian London and they intend to take over the world!

They’re going to make this happen with the help of the prickly Miss Hartigan (Dervla Kirwan) the Matron of the Saint Joseph workhouse, who, sick of the male dominated society she lives in intends to rule the world with the Cybermen.

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Meanwhile The Next Doctor, after a brief bit of bickering with his companion Rosilita (Velile Tshabalala), breaks into the house of Reverend Fairchild looking for clues to the Reverend’s death.

Naturally the Doctor has gotten there first.

After a brief chat about sonic screwdrivers, fob watches and a bit of comedy relief (complete with a ‘sproing’ noise, can you guess what happened?) the two Doctors find infostamps, that’s right, infostamps. They’re described as being like disks, Cyber-disks.

You see, because they’re in a different century the Cybermen have to carry all their data around on a series of USB memory sticks. Clearly the biggest they could find was 512MB, because they’ve got loads of them. Haven’t they heard of Drobos?

It’s just as well they knew they were coming to a different century too, otherwise they wouldn’t have had the chance to back everything up on to infosticks first. Although part of me thinks their time could heve been better spent on bringing something, anything, else back with them.

Actually I’m doing the Cybermen a disservice here, these infostamp things are a bit more advanced than USB memory sticks. They’ve got built in projectors and can also shoot bolts of electricity across the room (once you rip open the cyclo-Steinham core of course). Handy!

Of course where there are infostamps there are things that need infostamping. Cybermen!

There are Cybermen in the reverend’s house, eek! Chase, yawn, chase, chase, zap, boom. The Cybermen in the house are defeated.

You’d think after that, that they’d set about finding all the other Cybermen and despatching them in the same way but no. No that would be far too sensible. Besides, we’ve got a funeral to watch!

Across town (although it feels like it’s across the street) at said funeral Miss Hartigan, with the help of the Cybermen and a couple of Cybershades, is going medieval on a load of old blokes arses. The old blokes in question don’t really help themselves by running into each other like the Keystone Cops but hey, it probably wasn’t the done thing to run away in a straight line in the Victorian era.

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Once all the old blokes that aren’t useful (the ones that ran pie and mash shops and opium dens rather than work houses) are suitably zapped to death it’s back to the two Doctors and the reveal of the Next Doctor’s TARDIS. That’s right his motherflipping TARDIS! Except it’s not a TARDIS is it. No, oh no. It’s a hot air balloon.

A fucking hot air balloon.

Why call it a TARDIS then? Well that’s easily explained, it stands for Tethered Aerial Release Developed In Style. What a bunch of jizz cocks, who the fuck thought that up, was that you Davies? What about Tethered Aerial Reconnaissance Dirigible In-flight System or in fact anything else.

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Anyway, let’s move on quickly, I’m getting bored and this really isn’t worthy of my time.

So the old blokes that survived the graveyard massacre round up the children from their workhouses, hand them over to the Cybermen who put them to work inside the belly of their, their, well it isn’t really clear at this point where they are. Still we find out soon enough.

Miss Hartigan against her will becomes the CyberKing and starts wearing full eye, black contact lenses. Here’s a tip for any invading alien races out there. If you must insist on making your chosen leader wear contact lenses, make sure that they don’t blink and squint with them in. It detracts somewhat from the overall menacing air I imagine they were intended to generate.

Where was I? Oh yes, the two Doctors find a load of Dalek time travel gadgetry in a basement, the Next Doctor remembers he had a wife and child (wife deceased, child part of the Cybermen’s mini-pops army) and the new Doctor fathoms out what the Cybermen are up to.

Queue lots of child saving and Cybermen blasting, cut to a long shot of London and a massive, what can only be steam-powered, CyberKing with Miss Hartigan at the controls, bursting out of the Thames.

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So after a bit of stomping around and lot’s of screaming from the masses the CyberKing is confronted by the Doctor in a hot air balloon (the TARDIS, yeah?) and Miss Hartigan gets blasted with an infostick. Clearly being made of sterner stuff than mere Cybermen who’s fucking heads explode when this happens to them, it has no effect on her.

Except it does, her contact lenses are evaporated in the blast (the Cyber-connection being broken), her mind is opened, she realises exactly what freaky shit is going down around her and starts screaming like a fourteen year old, all the Cybermen and Cybershades explode and the CyberKing starts stumbling around like Britney Spears in a 7-Eleven parking lot.

Oh no, we all cry, all those poor people are going to be crushed under a bad special effect!

Don’t worry! The Doctor simply points his Dalek time wand at it and it disappears conveniently into the time vortex, where somehow it gets safely disintegrated. Although exactly why or how that happens is anyone’s guess.

And that’s it. Everyone’s happy. The Doctor goes for dinner with the not Next Doctor and the end credits roll with the joyous information that the Doctor will return in Planet Of The Dead. I can’t wait.

This wasn’t good television, it was terrible. The problems with The Next Doctor are legion.

  1. Do the Cybermen really need Miss Hartigan? They don’t, they could have done everything that she did on their own, or at the very least topped her once they got what they wanted.
  2. The whole Next Doctor thing was pointless and cheap. A gimmick designed to get ratings and nothing else. It had absolutely zero relevance to the story and was almost entirely unnecessary.
  3. What was the purpose of the Cybershades, why were they called Cybershades and what could they do that Cybermen couldn’t?
  4. Children? A workforce made entirely of children doesn’t seem like a particularly practical solution to the problem. Surely Cybermen are stronger and altogether more motivated?
  5. While we’re at it, doesn’t murdering people and stealing workhouses full of children draw a little bit of unnecessary attention to your plan?
  6. Rosita? Rosita? Please…
  7. Speaking of Rosita, do companions always have to be mouthy gobshites?
  8. Why does everything have to be Cyber-something. Why?!
  9. The CyberKing looks like a Cyberman. Why? Probably not the best shape for a spaceship really is it?
  10. The powerful and together Miss Hartigan becomes yet another weak screaming women at the end. Go empowerment.

Why don’t they spend more time developing cohesive plots instead of going for cheap gimmicks and overuse of existing villains all the time?

The sooner Davies leaves the helm the better. God help us if he gets the movie gig.

Rutan Jewellers?

I wonder if the Sontarans are aware of this latest money making scheme by the Rutans?

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I’m quite surprised that they would choose to advertise this in a cab office in Nottingham, but there you go, shows what I know about advanced alien civilisations doesn’t it?

Although their ability to make jewellery must be some what inhibited by their lack of opposable thumbs and their general amorphous blob-like bodies.

I shall keep my eye on this, don’t want to end up like those light house keepers do I?

On closer inspection it would appear I’ve been a complete dumb-ass, they’re not jewellers at all! It’s all merely a cover for some shady pawnbroking operation. Tchoh! Just their sort of thing.

Sorry, Sorry, Sorry

In light of my terrible lack of devotion to this site I have decided to stop using pages and go back to using posts.

Consequently all of the comments that everyone had made on myself and Tony’s rantings, have gone.

As I say, sorry.

Bannakaffalatta, Cyborg And Proud!

Featured in the 2007 Christmas special Voyage Of The Damned, Bannakaffalatta is a four foot tall alien from the planet Sto. He looks like this.

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What an astonishing design, huh? No, no it’s not is it.

Aside from the obviously shit design and name, Bannakaffalatta is also responsible for some of the most cringingly obvious dialogue ever witnessed in Doctor Who history.

This squeaky voiced, crimson, conker faced prick, managed, with the help of Russell T Davies’ usual appalling dialogue, to equate cyborg rights to those of gay people.

That’s right Bannakaffalatta was ashamed that he was a cyborg. So ashamed that Astrid Peth (Kylie Minogue in a career defining low) had to sit beside him, as he died, stroking his spiky bonce telling him that there was nothing to be ashamed about.

You see, as it turns out being a cyborg was widely accepted in the universe and that, and get this, cyborgs could even marry now!

Talk about laying it on thick.

The end of Bannakaffalatta came about a few seconds after he first revealed himself to be a cyborg by unleashing a huge blast of energy from his chest. I would ask though, since when has being a bit on the robotic side meant that you can zap fuck off dirty bolts of electricity from your chest?

I suppose Russell would say that’s the beauty of sci-fi, it lets you write badly and get away with it do whatever you want free of constraint. I’d say it was just plain shit.