It's been a while since an antagonist has made me this willing to see terrible things happen to them. I'll admit that I got fully sucked into the rom-com tone at first, but once that switch happened... pure, unbridled loathing for this little twerp.

But the worst part? Like all the greatest villains, he is right about one thing. UNIT, ever since the Pertwee days, has been dodgy. The Brigadier's attempted genocide of the Silurians is one that always comes to mind for me, and while my remembrance of this sector of the canon isn't as obsessively catalogued as others, I'm doubtless that other instances exist. All the rationales involving security and fighting the battles that ordinary people shouldn't have to bloody their hands with are the same ones put behind world governments who commit (to put it gently) awful things under the pretence of protecting their own. It all comes back to the age-old question of what you're willing to give up for your safety.

As a handling of UNIT's Neutral-adjacent morality within the Doctor Who universe, it's quite murky, both in the actual morality displayed and the subsequent dealing with it. Jemma Redgrave does a fantastic job of toeing the line as far as the necessity for UNIT as it stands, and how much its tactics differ from that of the Doctor. I'm sure that the recurring line about what taxpayer money is being 'wasted' on is a thinly-veiled pushback against critics of the show itself, but in terms of UNIT specifically... well, it's complicated. Kate is right that all that advanced technology would be catastrophic in political hands, but the need for secrecy doesn't do much to instil trust, and bear in mind that this is the same organisation that was (briefly) shut down during the Chibnall years from lack of funding. And for as much as I have my own issues with UNIT and the paramilitary complex it represents in this fictional universe... I'm just here to write about things that interest me, and a writer taking this much effort to avoid easy answers for dilemmas like that is quite interesting. Even with the gradual improvements he's shown since his debut, I still find it hard to believe that this is all from the same writer as the (far as I'm concerned) morally bankrupt Kerblam!

Beyond the UNIT-specific stuff, I like how it approached the notion of a Doctor-lite episode. There's bits of Love & Monsters in its fascinated focal point character, and as a look at the life of a companion post-Doctor, this hits harder than most others... mainly, because we don't usually see them at this stage, save for Sarah Jane in her spin-offs and Charley in her audio series. Like with the recklessness of Rose's continued adventures, and Clara's addiction to the thrill of TARDIS flight, seeing Ruby struggling with a (seemingly) quieter life where she isn't in active danger every other day is palpable. I liked Ruby well enough during Season 1, but I honestly like her even more as shown here, fighting against her own fight-or-flight response that, after all those adventures, still hasn't switched off. There's real character drama throughout which, aside from just showing more of Ruby, feels like they made the right choice to bring her back for this. She basically goes through the same dilemma that the Doctor did in Dot And Bubble: Knowing that this person just flat-out hates you, and that you have no good things to say about them in turn... but also knowing that saving their life is the right thing to do. She really learnt from being with the Doctor all that time, and I like that touch.

And then there's Conrad. Little weasel of a human being. I've seen many a thinkpiece and video essay to do with the 'red pill' community, but I can't recall any that explored what that really entails like this does. That inherent denial of how the world actually is, and how it should be, because even when it's staring directly at you, you still can't see it. It doesn't match how you see the world and yourself within it. And anything that doesn't fit... isn't even there. Except for your own biases, prejudices, long-seated resentments; those are all totally real, because hey, your own mind is the only thing you can be truly sure about... right?

The way McTighe plays around with Manosphere talking points about the nature of reality and who controls it felt like it hit on my own fight-or-flight response because, as a man, I always feel incredibly condescended to whenever I see people genuinely trying to push this kind of nonsense as worthwhile life advice. Just endless spewing of their own neuroses, with the odd sprinkle of genuine understanding that there are problems with the modern world to make it every statement, even the ludicrous ones, appear factual once they've taken hold. John Hauer-King does almost too well at embodying his character, as the level of denial and unadulterated ego on display is maddening both as a villain worth getting riled up over, and as someone that's far too easy to believe actually exists.

But no matter how accurate that one good point may be, it doesn't justify being this much of a human-shaped ringworm. He's not Neo, he's not Morpheus, hell, he probably wouldn't even make it as Cipher. He's just pathetic. Despite everything written above to do with UNIT, even I got my hackles up when Conrad disrespected the Brigadier like that, and while it was great to see Ncuti dress him all the way down by the end, Conrad's reaction... honestly, pretty aggravating, but if it ended any other way, it likely wouldn't have worked. There's so much romanticising about defeating illogic with logic in modern media, it's strangely refreshing to see that, no, some people aren't fixed that easily, or even at all.

Beyond the finer points of the story, the pacing during the rom-com parts is breezy and inviting, and the more thrilling moments are proper "oh dear, I didn't realise my hands were sweating that much" material. I was fully invested from start to finish, albeit for starkly different reasons at times. I was already looking forward to how this Season ends, but after that conclusion... don't let me down, RTD, this better lead to something good.

It makes sense that this is a sequel to Midnight (albeit with some strands of Turn Left thrown in). I'm not crazy about the ability additions to the entity itself (although bear in mind I wasn't big on the upgraded Angels in The Time Of Angels/Flesh And Stone, another Aliens-ificaton of an iconic NuWho monster), but in terms of theme, it fits. Another iso-horror tale about how easily paranoia can worm its way into people's heads and have them turn on each other.

And yet, this is a bit more hopeful in its examination of the topic. (Actually bloody terrifying conclusion notwithstanding, good lord!) The same concept that must be combated, but approached with a clearer head. The way it treats 'don't turn your back on others' as its thematic mantra hits a similar sweet spot for me as the 'mirror machine' from Vincent And The Doctor. A simple idea that gets at something deep within the core concept that actual words wouldn't have been able to do justice (actual words in the script aside). Where Midnight lingered with the devastating negative effects of that level of paranoia and mob mentality, The Well (while admittedly resorting to a similar heroic sacrifice by the end) is more adamant about the possibility of overcoming it. Not by one person deciding to do the right thing, but by people together making that decision. It creates a nice balance with the incredible sense of dread throughout (it may not be the genuine technical marvel of Alice Troughton's direction for Midnight, but Amanda Brotchie absolutely understood the assignment here), once again showing Dark RTD as willing to offer a positive outcome... but only if the characters (and the audience) earn it.

The way it handled deafness, both specifically with the character of Aliss and as a more general societal norm, was good too. I like its approach that avoids the weird eugenic utopianism of "oh, we'll have cured all that in the future" that crops up every so often in sci-fi, and treated it more realistically. Like, no one on that team knew they'd end up meeting a deaf person, and yet they still had those visual displays ready to use; that alone paints an oddly optimistic picture of disability aid in the future. Rose Ayling-Ellis' performance was terrific, both in giving Ncuti Gatwa room to show his more emotionally-in-tune incarnation of the Doctor, and as just an authentic deaf character in her own right. I got the same joy out of watching her as seeing Marlee Matlin or Millicent Simmonds; I like it when I don't have to deal with passing in stories like this.

I have a few minor niggles to do with the attempts to bridge the entity's behaviour in this and Midnight, and the arc maintenance was more cute than anything else (humans aren't a thing in the future? compared to the imminent threat, that's a bit shrug-worthy), but it offers a comparable adrenaline rush to its predecessor, and Aliss saying "Don't turn your back on me" felt like it was going to rip my heart out of my chest. It succeeded at what it set out to do, and while we still have a while to go, I wouldn't be surprised if this wound up being my favourite of the season.

This turned out both better and worse than I was expecting going in. I love the main premise of films coming to life (reminds me of Torchwood's From Out Of The Rain in a good way), and I like how it handled fourth-wall breaks and the Doctor meeting his own superfans was handled well (makes too much sense that they all name Blink as their favourite story, as that one also directly acknowledged the audience in a way that the show doesn't regularly do, albeit with more sophistication than is shown here). For better or worse, the fans have been in charge of the show for decades by this point, and the acknowledgement of the connection that audiences make with fictional characters hit me right in my weakness for metafiction and self-reflexivity. The animation is good too; really liked the 'added dimensions' scene.

I also like how it addressed that this story takes place in the era of Jim Crow. It doesn't derail the plot (save for one really good fake-out) and after past stories made a bit of a dog's breakfast of addressing such things (looking at you, The Shakespearean Code), it fits naturally with the story being told. Less 'message of the day' and more 'this is the normal of this place', which is a good mood to set for a period piece.

Not that massive on the villain, though. The character design is good (very Cuphead) and later shots of him are downright freaky. But it didn't feel like I was as scared of him as the episode wanted me to be, not helped by the resolution which involves one of my big DW pet peeves where the bad guy technically wins but it doesn't actually mean anything (see also: Tooth And Claw, Victory Of The Daleks, Sleep No More). Then again, given the Jim Crow setting, maybe there's something more to the notion that the villain can be broadly described as a person of colour that this predominantly-White community is terrified from the perceived actions of... who ultimately didn't do as much harm as the fear around him suggested. Bit screwy, admittedly, and much less salient than the surprisingly effective weaponisation behind Dot & Bubble if that is indeed the case, but with how much the episode itself makes a point of separating physical dimensions and literary dimensions (as in the depth of a given character), it gives the story some decent subtext.

I'm not sure if I'll end up rewatching this in a hurry, but it gave me some giggles and stuff to think about afterwards; more of what I want from this show.

A much less interesting Galaxy 4. It's just as surface-level in its contemporaneous examination of second-wave feminism (and is also a little too obviously written by a bloke, what with Jamie's shower room encounter, the costume choices, not to mention spanking Zoe to deprogram her), but without the deeper subtext to do with gender expectations and aesthetic conformity. Stories like this that just swap gender labels and pat themselves on the back for being so darn thought-provoking are pretty lame in my view (see also: Star Trek TNG's Angel One, and Red Dwarf's Parallel Universe), and while I accept that this is very much a product of its era, I've seen this same tactic utilised so many times already that it just irritates me.

I mean, I like the performances (Frazier Hines' Second is as good as ever), and the big boy arts and crafts scene is pretty fun, but otherwise... bleh.

I like the synth work in the soundtrack (reminds me of Play-era Moby, real lucid flying dream stuff) and the Rani's minefield is the kind of mad science I respect. But oh lord, is this one dull. The Rani does little to distinguish herself from the Master (a woman and a mad scientist, two things the Master can be and has been to much greater effect), and while their interplay is okay for the most part, I can see why she hasn't returned to the revived series yet. I'd be happier for a new appearance from the Monk, quite frankly.

Of the three stories that make up the body of Trial Of A Time Lord, this is the one that is most hurt by having to fit with that format. The interstitial court scenes fulfil a certain 'parlour room' function for the murder mystery plot, but they just end up serving as roadblocks for the story's pacing.

The production choices only serve to make this more of a slog to get through. The twee sense of humour combined with the soundtrack, like the wah-wah horn on the carrot juice line, is really grating, and I say that as someone who can usually vibe with the show's more pantomime moments. Mel's introduction isn't great either; her screaming for two separate cliffhangers only just manages to not be the most annoying sound here.

The only thing I can look back on with fondness is the design of the Vervoids, and that's only because I keep imagining someone going to a Georgia O'Keeffe art exhibit under the influence of some powerful Vraxoin, coming back to the office and presenting these as potential new monsters. I applaud the audacity, and in the greater annals of Doctor Who creature design, they are certainly one of the more memorable one-offs.

As much as it ends up throwing the entire Trial into question, I like the wrinkle this adds to the larger arc in making the Doctor and the audience question what they're seeing. I mentioned this when writing about The Timeless Children, but I like it when the show plays around with its own status as fiction, and drawing attention to the notion of truth in a story that isn't real scratches a certain cerebral itch for me. Having Sil and the human caps lock himself BRIAN BLESSED! on board helps, as do the visuals, with the surface of Thoros-Beta looking like a proto-vaporwave album cover.

There is a pretty big fault to this one, and that's the treatment of Peri. Beyond the actual torture, which sadly feels like par for the course for how worrisome her and Sixth's pairing is as a whole in the TV stories, her departure here is... not handled well. Strictly on the basis of recognising that, without this, there'd be no Peri And The Piscon Paradox, I'm willing to show some leniency with the latter. But for a companion who arguably got the shortest end of the stick of all the classic era companions, even more so than Sara Kingdom, it still sucks seeing her go out like this. Or, rather, not seeing her go out.

Definitely some interesting aspects here (the gorgeous opening shot, the Three Sacred Texts, Sabalom Glitz as the last truly great Holmes-created side character), and I find myself growing fond of the larger Trial Of A Time Lord framing. Between this story arc where the Doctor watches his own show, getting involved in another TV show with Vengeance On Varos, and even directly addressing the audience at the end of The Caves Of Androzani, it's these moments that would become the foundation for his predominantly metafictional lane in the Big Finish audios.

It's just that the actual story here is pretty middling. A mystery that's not much of a mystery, a conflict that's not that compelling, and characters that overall don't leave much of an impact.

Some day, I'm going to map out a theory that connects this, Main Range #49: Master, and Lungbarrow in a single cohesive timeline.

But for right now, I'm just all kinds of fine with this as an addition to the DW universe. The way the Brendan subplot is visualised and rationalised here, it got me thinking about how many TV stories have different tellings (original broadcast, novelisations, recorded readings of said novelisations, telesnap reconstructions, animated reconstructions, audio adaptations); the same story, just looked at through different filters. Shada is one of my favourites, and there are more versions of that than Blade Runner. With how increasingly self-referential the show has become over the decades, I like this example more than most.

Between that and creating a nice big gap in the Doctor's history to fit more stories into (insert Big Finish joke here), it just feels like a fan made this, and I mean that as a positive. I absolutely get why others didn't like this, both in intent and execution, and I wasn't entirely sure if I did either at first. But even more so than when Doctor Who is good, I like Doctor Who when it's interesting, and this certainly captured my interest. Then again, Jodie Whittaker and Sacha Dhawan are in such top form here, I'll also argue that it's quite good.

It's mostly just okay. Najia is fun (I particularly like when the Doctor tells her that she "raised an awesome human"), Graham's character moments are good, and for a straight-faced take on a creature feature, it does well enough. Only real complaints I have are 'Jack Robertson' for how basic of a caricature he is (with how prevalent piss-takes of that particular guy were between 2015 and 2020, these jokes were already old hat), and the dubious framing around the Doctor's endgame for the titular Arachnids. In an attempt to continue NuWho's pacifism and mock cultural obsessions with firearms, it ended up shooting itself in the foot and made Jack look like the reasonable one by comparison. Big yikes.

I don't even mind the Doctor being morally screwy (it's why Seventh is one of my favourites), but the blind handing-over of benefit of the doubt for that decision and the lack of self-awareness thereof doesn't sit well with me. It's not quite "Amazon is good, actually" from Kerblam!, but it's up there.