Let’s Kill Hitler is an infamous story. From it’s title to it’s main guest star, it’s an episode designed to make us sit up and pay attention – although not necessarily for the right reasons.

Moffat, like RTD, enjoys baiting the audience (and fandom in particular). Titles are a great way of doing this. RTD did it with The Doctor’s Daughter. Moffat did it with The Doctor’s Wife. Let’s Kill Hitler was the ‘mid-series’ kick off for the split Series 6. We’d ended on the ‘Avengers Assemble-esque’ A Good Man Goes to War and this story was going to begin to pick up some of the revelations about River Song’s true identity.

But how to get the audience back after the break. Put Hitler in the title! I know some fans have a bit of an issue with the title, in retrospect, as Hitler is such a tiny part of the episode and it could be argued that the story doesn’t deliver on the implied promise of such a sensationalist title. But the title isn’t telling us the story is about Hitler. It’s actually making it very clear (with the benefit of hindsight) that this is all about River Song. Although, to begin with, we don’t know that Mels is an earlier incarnation of River, ‘Let’s Kill Hitler’ is precisely the sort of sensationalist, naughty comment River would make as she gads about the universe. This is a River Song episode through and through.

Unfortunately, that’s sort of the least interesting thing about it. I don’t mind River Song, and it’s obvious Alex Kingston has a whale of a time playing her, but she’s a character I can take or leave and not one I’m ever clamouring for the return of. I wouldn’t say I was ever particularly invested in her arc, especially when it strayed away from the ‘time traveller’s wife’ conceit that she arrived with in Silence in the Library. It all just got a bit convoluted. Within an isolated episode, though, she’s a fun character who always reminds me a bit of a cross between Bernice Summerfield and Iris Wildthyme.

But, for me, River Song is easily the least interesting thing about the episode. The opening sequence with Rory and Amy careering around a cornfield in an attempt to get the Doctor’s attention is glorious and played well by Gillan and Darvill. My love of Arthur Darvill’s Rory is on record and he never disappoints. The arrival of Mels is the force of nature Moffat wants from the script and the flashbacks to the trio’s childhood – replete with unconvincing ‘adult pretending their teenagers’ scenes – are brilliant.

The best part of these though is easily the final shot of Mels tossing the model TARDIS across Amy’s bedroom and it morphing into the real TARDIS crashing towards 1930s Berlin. It is a marvellous shot and seamlessly executed.

Once in Berlin, we get some beautiful period work. The setting is realised well and as they emerge from Hitler’s office into the wider expanse of Berlin, although we don’t see a huge amount of it, it is convincing and well-realised.

Hitler, as we all know, is cursorily dealt with pretty early on. The conceit of them having saved Hitler’s life is well done in the script but not dwelt on too much before he’s punched by Rory and thrown in a cupboard. I think I’ve seen criticisms that this episode ignores the pure horror of Hitler and his effect on world history. As part of my teaching about World War Two with my class of Year 6, we look at propaganda and, in particular, at how Hitler was often portrayed in British propaganda – as a figure of mockery and fun. The famous Careless Talk Costs Lives posters depict Hitler in a variety of silly positions (on a London bus or sitting in a train’s luggage rack with Mussolini; disguised as a couple’s dog; hidden in beer pumps, pint glasses, wallpaper and with his head stuck through a painting). It is deliberately mocking him and make him ‘defeatable’. Let’s Kill Hitler is continuing in this tradition of mocking a hugely evil man. Your mileage may vary on whether this is appropriate now, in the 21st century, as the reason for doing in during World War Two is clearly not a necessary line to take any more but I can see how a writer, such as Moffat, may have, even subconsciously, absorbed that need to laugh at evil or adversity. In fact, he is on record as saying that laughing at Hitler is the right way to behave as it would aggrieve him far more than to still be feared and revered as a figure. It’s also true that, on occasion, the Doctor – particularly in Moffat’s time, enjoys mocking his enemies, such as when he is wheeling around in Davros’s chair in The Witch’s Familiar. It is also echoed later in Series 10’s Thin Ice when the Doctor punches Lord Sutcliffe. Overall, I do think it’s the right approach for this story. A story more centred on Hitler and the Third Reich would probably take a different tack, but that’s not what this story is about so I think it is pitched right.

Hitler is saved, by the TARDIS’s crash landing, from the Teselecta – a robotic human duplicate which actually houses miniaturised humanoids that are on a mission of justice to ‘punish’ criminals. Although the story doesn’t go into the background of the race inside the Teselecta, or even that much into their modus operandi or motivation, this re-watch had me loving the whole concept (and, of course, the Teselecta is actually key to the Series 6 finale so there is still some detail to come).

The crew are broadly painted but likeable (although it’s a shame the marvellous Ella Kennion – Boudicca in Big Finish’s The Wrath of the Iceni and the peerless Captain Sinker in CBeebies series, Swashbuckle – appears in little more than a cameo and disappears for the rest of the story, including when the Antibodies attack the crew). This time round I also loved the Antibodies. As a menace, I remember them underwhelming me originally, but this time found them both amusing and menacing. A Behind the Scenes feature on the DVD details how the Antibodies are physical remote-controlled props. I don’t know why, but this insight made me appreciate them even more. Their original concept was similar to how the Handbots turned out and was changed and, I think, it was the right decision as it brings them closer to their ‘real world’ inspiration.

One minor detail I had completely missed on previous watches was the identify of the Professor that River speaks to at the end of the story when she is enrolling at the Lunar University. It’s Professor Candy – a character who was included in Steven Moffat’s Continuity Errors short story (the foundation of A Christmas Carol and the general time-wimeyness of Moffat’s Who). He is also around in the Bernice Summerfield range and, indeed, features in the first NA novel Oh No It Isn’t where he becomes Dame Candy when Bernice is transported to a world of pantomime (go and listen to the Big Finish audio version or read the book – it’s glorious). It’s not important to the story but as a subtle tie in to the expanded universe of Doctor Who, one I really appreciate being included.

The core story of Mels/River and the revelation of Amy and Rory’s lost baby is, actually, of far less interest me. I never find I’m hugely engaged by the concept of River Song and don’t feel I ever really got a handle on the whole ‘brainwashed to kill the Doctor’ bit but then, because that is tied up in the very confusing Silence arc, I’m not surprised the finer details seem to have passed me by. It’s definitely something I need to look at in more detail (but not something that watching the series in the way I am is going to help with particularly).

This re-watch did find my enjoying the story a lot more than previously. I love the opening scene, the scenes of Amy, Rory and Mels’ childhood are great fun (and the model TARDIS to real TARDIS shot is simply gorgeous), the Berlin 1938 setting looks great and the whole Teselecta element is brilliant – and something that really deserved it’s own story rather than playing second fiddle to the River Song storyline.

I was a little hesistant going into this story as it’s one of my favourite eras and yet this story always seemed like a bit of an anomaly. In a way, it is, but it’s still got a lot going for it and is hugely engaging for its runtime.