I had my suspicions after the iffyness of the Rani in Wish World, but with the reveal of Omega in this, I feel I can safely speculate on this:

RTD made the Doctor 'the Last of the Time Lords' because he is incapable of writing for any of the others.

Like... you can talk about legends and myths all you want, but that is not Omega. He was not imprisoned, he was a victim of circumstance, cast away as a result of his greatest triumph. He's a tragic character, that's what makes him so good, whereas here, he's just relegated to being a generic 'kill everything' villain. Not impressed.

Beyond that, I like the main crux of the story: This is a children's show at its heart, so the idea of the Doctor risking this much just to save one child... yeah, that scans. I'm not massive on what had to be done with Belinda to make it fit (why is a show this gay being this heteronormative? I thought the whole point was to not make the world like that?), but as a send-off for the emotionally vulnerable orphan that is Fifteenth, I get the logic for it.

Oh yeah... there's also that to get into. At time of writing, I'm still coming to terms with that absolute haymaker of an ending reveal; where in the actual Hellion this is going, I can't even begin to guess. Thirteenth coming back was nice, and I liked Whittaker and Gatwa's chemistry together, but...

Okay, given the specific crediting for Billie Piper, it's still nebulous whether this really is the Sixteenth Doctor or if something even stranger is going on (after the hour preceding it, I am not discounting that possibility), there's a chance that Ncuti could come back. And I genuinely hope that's the case because, even without getting into the length of his tenure (no Doctor since Colin Baker has had only two seasons to their name, and with how short the seasons are now, that simply isn't enough for a modern Doctor), he should have gotten a better send-off than this. Character-wise, I still think it suits his specific incarnation, but story-wise? This is quite the mess, trying the same trick as Empire Of Death in zooming in from a universe-scale threat to something more personal, but not really doing as well with it. Plot threads are hastily tied up (Conrad got off way too easily; I'm already taking back some of the praise I had for Lucky Day's finale), the Rani just... disappears, and Omega is dealt with like he's nothing.

And yet... even with all that said, there's still two things here that I really liked, to the point where they might be the main reason why I rated this as high as I did. The first: Anita's back! Not entirely on-board with the romantic jealousy poking through the cracks of her performance, but between her actually taking part in the main action, and the hinting about her 'boss', I hope this isn't the last we see of her.

And the second: Time Lords are confirmed to be fertile. Lungbarrow is canon. The Looms are real! My fan theory combining Lungbarrow and The Timeless Child is more viable than ever!! Let's friggin' go!!!

Yeah, very mixed feelings on this one. The wait for what is even going to result from all this is going to suck, but y'know what? I'm game for whatever it may be. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Doctor Who is at its best not when it's 'good' but when it's interesting, and above all else, this is all highly intriguing to me. The episode itself, though? Eh.

A dystopian world where thoughtcrime is a punishable offence, and the masses are kept placated and entertained by the adventures of a man called The Doctor.

Basically, we have an answer for just how much The Natural History Of Fear has to be sanded-down to become an actual TV story.

I quite like the Milk Wars-esque aesthetic of the Wish World, along with the many blink-and-you-miss-them bits of dialogue that underpin the heteronormative, ableist, patriarchal society this is. The set design for the Bone Palace might be one of my favourite villain lairs of the entire franchise; if I ever got my hands on a TARDIS, it's a real toss-up between this and Eighth's Victorian interior for what I would make it look like. Those giant roaming bone creatures are sick too.

As for the story, it's... well, it's not as exciting as The Legend Of Ruby Sunday. It's another case of putting in the brickwork for the conclusion, and while the dystopian satire is fun and all, the messaging feels a bit muddled. Like, is it good to have doubts and questions about the way society is presented or not? Thematically, sure, it leans in that direction, with Conrad rewriting the story of his world into what he wants to be real, and I got quite a kick from Shirley saying that her and her group of disabled truthers were going to take down a God. But narratively, considering how this first part concludes, it loses itself in the rush of revelation.

Same goes for the Rani. Archie Punjabi is really good in her performance, but the writing feels off in a number of ways. She's supposed to be a scientist with no care for ethics, so her experiments are all merciless free-for-alls, and the construction of this world as a trap for the Doctor as part of an even larger scheme fits a certain 'mad science' niche that could have worked... but are they really trying to set her up as the Doctor's ex or something? Combining that with him and Belinda in this new reality, and the cameo from Rogue, the relationship dimensions of this story are all over the map.

I will say, though, that I genuinely did not see that ending reveal coming. I was open to seeing the Rani return (even with my misgivings about the realisation here), but the return of my all-time favourite Time Lord villain in Omega has me well and truly hyped for the finale.

Juno Dawson promised a mix of Eurovision and Die Hard... and she wasn't lying.

Her scripting here balances a very fine line between acknowledging the joy and comfort that Eurovision brings to its audience (in particular its LGBTQ+ audience), and acknowledging its use as political whitewashing for totalitarian nations. It's along the same lines as a Pete McTighe story in how it tries to present both sides of the issue, except this doesn't hold back or directly point out one or the other as the 'bigger' evil. Cruelty is cruelty, whether it's for corporate gain or misplaced revenge, and the fact that it even pulled the Doctor himself into that spiral is both effective and genuinely scary. That Susan cameo does a lot to apply the groundwork for just how dark he goes here, and while I think it's brushed off a little too quickly, Ncuti absolutely nails it.

From the tension-building to the smaller character beats to the sheer scale of it all (that dome opening had me completely slack-jawed; even Voyage Of The Damned didn't threaten this big of a body count, and that's before the delta wave is introduced... nice Parting Of The Ways reference, by the way), this is really damn good.

And then the mid-credits scene happened.

Now, I unfortunately had the big reveal spoiled for me ahead of time (bloody Twitter trending topics, I swear I'll learn my lesson one of these days), but I was honestly kind of psyched about it. I drew up a little wish list of things I wanted to see return in Season Two, and sure enough, the Rani is on that list. I like her reveal here... but why, oh WHY, did it have to be another bigeneration?! I was willing to work with it in Fourteenth's case, as that was probably the only incarnation of the Doctor that it made any narrative sense for, but here? No dice. It's just irritating and puts a bad taste on the end of what is otherwise a pretty damn good episode. It also makes me a bit worried about the two-part finale, even though I'd been looking forward to it up to this point.

There's a twisted irony to the notion that this is a story about the power and danger that comes from seeking control over all stories... that is one of the few episodes in RTD2 not written by the man himself. While it has shades of other metafictional yarns like The Rings Of Akhaten and even Class' The Metaphysical Engine, that same sentiment about the power that comes from storytelling is tempered through an extremely specific cultural context. The Barber's backstory, of creating the foundation of a wondrous technology only to have it ripped away from him by 'higher-ups', is the story of every slave worker who mined minerals used in the infrastructure of our own World Wide Web. Including the device you're likely reading this on, unfortunately.

And this is without getting into the cultural importance of this predominantly-Black story, being told within a predominantly-White space, having haircuts and Black hair specifically as a key thematic touchstone. I'm way too pale to properly dissect that here, but if you know, you know.

Even with my admitted weakness for this side of Doctor Who, when it gets deep into telling stories about telling stories, I was not expecting this to hit as hard for me as it did. The narrative itself is beautiful, dealing directly in the friction between Men and Gods that, honestly, I was hoping all of the Pantheon arc would involve because this is intensely interesting to me. I liken that particular relationship to a large-scale, cosmic version of M.C. Escher's Drawing Hands, of stories that write their own stories, and Inua Ellams' writing here illustrated that brilliantly. At a time when literal Gods are frequently showing up as the main antagonists in the show, I like how this episode in particular makes it a point to view ideas of faith and worship in a more pragmatic sense. To slightly paraphrase Belinda: "The difference between good and evil is what we do with that belief."

There's also something about the titular Engine that feels so emblematic of the entire show. This Engine that runs on the gift of storytelling, of human imagination and articulation, that is connected to a person so full of the most wonderful stories that they essentially are a story in the shape of a person. I could easily nitpick the surprise appearance of the Fugitive Doctor here (in terms of series lore, it really doesn't make much sense), but as part of the larger display of just how many stories the Doctor has lived and been, I appreciate her inclusion all the same. That core idea, of travelling beyond the boundaries of our universe, in a vessel fuelled by the stories we tell, is about as true to the ideal of Doctor Who as it gets, far as I'm concerned.

Over the course of writing this, it feels like my head is bulging because there's just so much going on here; it's kind of overwhelming. I get the feeling I'll still be thinking this over for a while after this gets posted. And that's a good thing; I like stories worth devoting that much mental bandwidth to.

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 (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.