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“PRESS PLAY – A LONELY GOD ON PLAYBACK”

Press Play is a tiny tale with a big emotional core. One of the shortest entries in Adventures in Lockdown, it nevertheless manages to tug at the heartstrings with elegant simplicity. The setup is as minimal as they come: the Doctor sits alone in the TARDIS. There’s no enemy, no mystery to solve, no planet to save. Just the Doctor, a bag of snacks, and a moment of quiet reflection.

But then the TARDIS steps in.

In a beautifully understated touch, the ship activates a holographic message from Susan. It turns out she programmed the TARDIS to record the Doctor’s adventures for posterity, a personal archive of a life too big to ever fully remember. It’s a moment of poignant clarity: the Doctor, always moving forward, is gently reminded that her story has continuity, connection, and care—even when she feels most alone.

EVERY EPISODE ON DEMAND

The idea that the Doctor could, in effect, sit down and binge-watch her own history is charming and oddly comforting. The story doesn’t dwell on it for long, but the implication is rich. Here’s a character whose life is chaos incarnate, finding stillness by looking back. It reframes the TARDIS as not just a ship or a friend, but an emotional anchor.

The image of the Doctor curled up in her ship, munching snacks, and watching past adventures might sound twee, but it lands because of how well it reflects the time it was written in. This story is pure lockdown energy—quiet, introspective, and aching for connection. As a metaphor for the COVID era, it sings: we were all isolated, and many of us turned to stories and nostalgia for comfort. Press Play taps into that without being didactic.

A GHOST FROM THE PAST

And then there’s Susan. She’s only here for a holographic moment, but the effect is profound. A message across time. A reminder that the Doctor, however untethered, has roots. The Thirteenth Doctor’s soft, isolated demeanour finds gentle contrast in Susan’s warmth. It’s a beautiful micro-scene between two characters who haven’t shared a screen since 1964 (or 1983, or 1993; pick your poison)—and yet it feels earned and meaningful.

It’s the kind of moment fans yearn to see on screen. A quiet coda to a long-forgotten relationship. And as you rightly note, something like this would’ve worked beautifully in Wish World or The Reality War, where dream logic or cosmic unreality could’ve allowed for more personal, emotional reconnections.

📝THE BOTTOM LINE: 7/10

Short, sweet, and surprisingly moving, Press Play offers a gentle pause in the Doctor’s endless journey. With a poignant Susan cameo and a lockdown-era metaphor woven through its core, Pete McTighe delivers a minimalist story that punches far above its word count in emotional resonance. Not much happens, but that’s entirely the point.

This is such a sweet piece of writing which whips me right back to the covid era, but in the best way possible. Its a beautiful message that even The Doctor needs cheering up sometimes and that she has lived through more than her fair share of pandemic-like scenarios. Without breaking the fourth wall too much Pete McTighe writes the perfect love letter to a fandom in hard times.