Beware the spoilers. A quick one today lads! 3/5

At first, I found this story a little dull and did not enjoy the writing style, but as I progressed through, its disapproval of capitalist greed for profits over people and its engagement with a key moral quandry (to close the park, or to not close the park - which would protect/help more people? The classic greater good dilemna) captivated me. However, it rather lost me once more at the end with the person behind the trouble being revealed to be - what a shock! - that one moody teen we met earlier. Cliche and too simple -a real let-down.

I also felt like the story could have revolved a little more around River's decision over whether or not to start a family - I was promised River Song stories, and instead, this felt like a story with River in, and then the whole "to-have-a-child-or-to-not-have-a-child" part tacked on. It was an interesting idea that fell flat in the execution. On the other hand, the tension with the Doctor not being what River needed him to be for the serious conversations and her not being able to communicate that with him was done well. Also, there were a couple moments towards the end with the meditations on the responsibility and *magic* of having a child, and the possibility that the Doctor was already a father, had kids, no longer had kids, lost his kids... that did make me shed a tear.

If that level of engagement with the big questions and exploration of the premise of the Doctor (and of the Doctor and River's relationship) had been present more consistently throughout the story, I would rate it much higher than a 3/5, for it certainly had potential.

4.5/5, a wonderfully fun story that I'd happily recommend! Spoilers throughout.

I thought it was clever how, for the Third Doctor's first trip off Earth, the story still centred around very human politics and recognisable allegories and examples of human problems that we still struggle with. This indicates very effectively that, even though the format may be changing, the show will still explore the same political ideas that is has been committed to throughout Three's run.

The allegory with the native americans was lost towards the end, which is a shame, because I thought the serial could have been going somewhere really interesting with it, but even so, the story had other underlying themes whcih it did carry through to the end succesfully, with the exploration of the politics around settlers being especially noteworthy. Spinning thehuman colony not as a hostile takeover of an already inhabited planet but as necessary for survival and freedom for this group gave a dimension to this story that allowed me to care for the settlers whilst still acknowledging the faults in their intentions.

The characters introduced were easy to care about, and felt more real than these side characters usually do, so, hats off to Hulke! Even though I suspected that all but Ashe had survived the explosion, I still wept when the ship blew up. The relationship between Winton and Ashe, two characters with conflicting views and personalities, who were yet able to honour and respect one another, was the highlight for me. Honourable mentions for Mary Ashe as a female character who was not treated as a damsel in distress, or as a heartless iron lady, but as a competent, brave, and confident young woman who was treated by the story no different than if she'd been a man. Norton, a spy taking advantage of Ashe's kindness, played the ominous and slimy role well. Caldwell's position as a traitor out of conscience was an absolute treat; his attempts to do good to counter his evil boss's schemes and his own guilt while still showing his fear and reluctance to leave the IMC were driven home by the context of a time where work was hard to find in a way that meshed well with the political messaging of the serial, whilst also making him feel fleshed-out and 3-dimensional. I'm always a big fan of found family, so his final decision to stay with the colonists made me choke up a little. Wonderful stuff.

As always, I applaud the anti-capitalist messaging, with the politics of mining corporations that harm the people living in the area and the environment terribly, as well as disrupting any chance at normal life, being a prevalent contemporary issue that the serial was not afraid to raise loudly and unasbashedly.

I thought the dynamic with Jo and the Doctor being helpless against the Master, unable to make the others around them listen when they try to warn them, was an innovative new way to use the Master. The format was the same as always with the threegado era, and yet their new position as nobodies made their warnings worthless and suspect, evoking new feelings as I felt helpless alongside them.

The ending of the serial was so funny - the Brigadier's bemused expression at Three and Jo's antics was absolutely priceless! However, the serial did suffer a little in my eyes from the obvious problems in the scientific side of the plot - you don't have to be a genius to raise an eyebrow at the idea that exploding the city-weapon would somehow *reduce* the amount of radiation! And, as I said before, the twist away from the Native American allegory was disappointing, though did not bring the story down too far, as it still had strong characterisation, good pacing, and managed to wrap everything up in a neat little bow. An enjoyable serial with good ol' fashioned Classic political messaging, this one gets 4.5/5 stars from me!

A solid, well-paced serial that was mighty enjoyable, with an engaging new one-off character (with a classically classic Who terrible American accent!) The relationship between the Doctor and the Master was interesting, and the end of episode three had a wonderful scene that I've only seen before now in Tumblr GIFs talking about the thoschei relationship - oh, what fun! This serial lived up to it's reputation, and I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Just finished this wonderful serial; another classic 3/Delgado format with "Master forms an alliance with an alien who turns on him and then he needs the Doctor's help to defeat the alien and then the Master escapes at the last possible second". And, if you're wondering why I used the slash between "3" and "Delgado", I think the Guide's screenshot says it all (:

The pacing felt appropriate, the plot was intriguing, and the character development throughout the serial was wonderful (thinking especially of how the Brigadier began smiling a lot in the last couple episodes, admitting to himself that he's happy to be keeping the Doctor around, and allowing himself to feel relief and joy that his men are alive). 3 and the Brig were acting like such an old married couple in those last few minutes! Love to see it!

I thought the Master killing Barnham felt sudden and cruel. I didn't expect Barnham to survive this, but this felt out of nowhere, and totally out of line with the Master's usual behaviour. I was also quite unhappy with the lack of willingness to engage with the ethics of the Keller machine as it was (removing the autonomy of prisoners, and any chance at an actual, honest rehabilitation), not just as it could be used. I also felt that the writers didn't even try to adhere to science in any way whatsoever - it was funny at first, with the idea that the nerve gas missile could be safely disposed of by tossing it in the ocean, but it really started to get on my nerves with the Keller machine "removing evil impulses". It would have been so, so easy to just say that it "identified areas of the brain associated with violent thoughts/actions and damaged them using electricity, but really it was the alien feeding on brain waves that damaged the brain", something like that.

That said, the Brig being able to show more emotion than just annoyance made me enjoy this immensely, so overall, giving this one a 4.5/5.

I'm afraid I don't have anything more coherent to say than "Now, that was Doctor Who!" I have always been the biggest Master fan, and I am very pleased to finally have watched his first story (and no, I will not tolerate any "what about the war games?" jokers). It was exactly what I expected - in a good way - and very much fit the format I've grown to recognise and love from Delgado era stories. Apart from the wonderful and (relatively) subtle homosexual undertones, the excellent use of Autons, and the general criticism of the military, the other thing I thought was done very well was the introduction of a new companion - Jo's character was established quickly and efficiently, and I found it was very easy to grow attached to her and worry for her wellbeing, even though this was her first story. Bravo!

Just going to be a quick one today, lads. With spoilers.

Just finished this serial. I really enjoyed it - very different from what I'm used to from that era in regards to the music, but I liked it! Felt pleasantly incongruous. There was a good balance of humour against the, you know, death. It was also spectacularly well-paced. Some of the worst fake fighting I've ever seen, though. I was under the impression for most of the serial - and still think I would have preferred this version - that there would be no aliens. It would all be fear and conspiracies - but then again, what else could I have expected from the bug-eyed monsters era of Who? (Yes, that is pretty much all of Who, I know). Still, I think they communicated the destruction that fear of the foreign can cause - and the General's madness - very well, and so overall I thoroughly enjoyed this serial.

I was lucky enough to be at the first live event, and I had a spectacular time, so, 5/5! Spoilers ahead!

I immediately made friends with the person I was sat next to, and got to meet up with loads of TARDIS.guide people, so that was all wonderful! The lighting was superb, as were the sound effects, the dramatic gestures, and the general atmosphere. As an anniversary story it was exactly what you'd expect - Big Finish's big draws; their Master, their Doctor, their Doctor's first BF companion, and, of course, the Daleks. I very much enjoyed the exploration of Cornish folklore - it reminded me a little of 73 yards in that it explored myth and treated it as something that actually existed, not something that was sci-fi'ed away.

The careful balance of old monsters/characters/plot devices (the TCE and masked Master with a stupid translated name meaning 'Master' my beloved!!!) with the new genre (the recent fantastical leanings of BBC Who) was expertly crafted and immensely enjoyable. I also loved the sapphic crush, though wish we could have had a touch more on the side of thoschei romance - if you're making it gay and appealing to the classic fans, may as well go full throttle and make it heavy on the thoschei too - although I did enjoy the "Doctor has to rescue Master and he's all begrudging about it" thing.

I also felt like the non-main characters of Foley, the Captain, and the Innkeeper were well fleshed out and had strong personalities, making them immediately easy to connect with, and making me feel as strongly about them as any other character - not an easy thing to do, and so it was lovely seeing it done well.

The audience inclusion was another part of the show that really made it feel special - if you listen hard, you might just be able to hear my voice amongst the other thousand people pretending to drown!

It was gay and it genuinely taught me things, so of course I loved it! This is exactly what Who should be, if you ask me - a theatre full of trans people cheering as Alex MacQueen eats a biscuit and a one-off companion flirts with the Doctor's female companion. What a wonderful first experience of MacQueen's Master for me to have! If you have a chance, I highly reccomend going to see the last live performance today (not yet sold out!), or getting your hands on the live recording.

omg this one made me cry so much on the longhaul flight. Okay so I'm gonna go 4.5/5, and I'm going to talk about politics, suicide, the writing, the gay people, the doctorification, and the kittens. The suicide is both very spoilery and possibly triggering, so, read on at your own discretion. Take care of yourself, lads ladettes and ladles!

Let's start with the politics. Sam is an upper-middle class girl (who I'm 90% sure was white). She is in a very privileged position - and she wants to fight for marginalised people's rights. She fights for gay rights (let's fckn goooo vampire science!), she goes to greenpeace rallies to save the environment - she's your regular SJW. Well, a 90's version, anyway. This book challenged the way she thought about activism and allyship - how could she, with her privilege, understand the necessity of the rights she fights for? Is she really fighting, or is she just performing? A wonderful critique of performative 'activism', these challenges really fleshed out Sam as a character, and challenged my own way of thinking about this stuff as well. Sam took charge of her life: she decided that she didn't want to be performative, that the reason she was fighting was from a real place of seeking justice, and so her actions were real, too. Reading her figure out what activism is to her hit home hard - I am also in a privileged position and interested in activism, and so I heavily related to what she was talking about. As she became more confident in her motivations, so did I - I read that passage and then immediately joined an activism group.

And, if "character relatable and fleshed out enough to make real changes in a reader's life" isn't enough of an endorsement, then I am also happy (well. emotionally devestated) to report that the book made me cry. Several times. Including when I finished it on a long haul flight - pretty sure I got some weird looks from the other passengers for that one! The reason is one I will get into in a few paragraphs, as first, I have to establish the web of relationships and contrasts in this story.

We have Sam, the girl who'd left her ordinary life to travel with a mysterious man who showed her great wonders, but was finding it very difficult to cope with the danger and the trauma she was put through in said adventures, and so was considering going home, versus Caroline, the woman who had always waited, wondering if her hero would return to rescue her from her dull life and make things really matter, considering running away from her happy little family to join a mysterious man who could take her to see the kind of wonders you only dream about...

We have Dr. Shackle, the poor doctor faced with constant tragedy and no reprieve, the weight of every life he's failed to save dragging him deeper into depression. Everyone around him notices too late, and, even though they do everything right, they can't save him. This is a man in the trenches, doing real good, but who can't take another step, compared to Sam, the bright, young, enthusiastic girl who faces tragedy but keeps looking forward, keeps hoping for better, keeps deciding that if there is no better, then damnit, she will make there be better. And again, Shackle - his name is a little cratyllic, I think, with the metaphorical shackles of his duty as a doctor and his desire to do good preventing him from taking a break, from being able to think about things other than the people he's failed to save - compared to the Doctor. Doctor versus Doctor, the two men have the same duties, the same moral compass, the same damn title, and yet only of them is able to keep going: The one who is old enough to know that history repeats itself, old enough to have seen tragedy beyond the mortal's comprehension, and old enough to know that life always begins anew. He can see the possibilities, the hope for a better way, that Shackle, trapped in the trenches, bombarded by death, can't look up to see. He doesn't have the time.

It is this tragedy, if you hadn't figured it out yet, that made me cry so often. The type of depression Shackle is faced with isn't the clinical 'born with an imbalance, developed in early teens, it's a chemical thing' that you may think of when you think 'depression': this is the one we all face, if we pay attention to the news, or if we can't afford to look away from it. As a trans person, whether or not I am even allowed to exist is constantly in debate. I am the news. I can't look away. As someone who wants to do right, wants to help people, I have to pay attention so I know how to help them - I can't look away. But with this constant barrage of terror and bigotry and bad news, is it any wonder that we become weary? Every headline strips me of a little more hope, until I have nothing left to give. This is a problem facing so many of my generation, in this terrible day and age where in a supposedly 'safe' country, I watch my people flee in fear every day. I see our faces on the news reports: lists of the dead. I see war and terror. My TV screen is bloody. It's exhausting, to live like this. And that's why Shackle makes me cry: he is on the front lines, fighting to save people's lives, but it's not enough. Every life lost weighs him down, every headline, every face in the paper. His depression is our depression. But he doesn't come out the other side. He dies, and when that doesn't lift the weight from his shoulders, he's forced to ask: what next? Where can I go from here? I don't know what he picked, but I hope he chose to keep on living, in whatever form that meant. I hope we all make the choice to keep living. If I had one wish, I would ask Orman and Blum if I could continue Shackle's story, because especially in this day and age, I think his story is too important to be over.

There are a couple other relationships I'd like to explore a little, and then I'll get into the overall structure of the book, the gay, the doctorification, and the kittens.

I thought the contrast between Caroline, the wealthy doctor in the fancy lab, and Shackle, the emergency doctor in the poor part of town, was really interesting because there was a sense of camradery, but also of hostility, of you don't know what my world looks like. It felt a little like Sam's struggle with performative vs real action, how can she really make a difference - however, there was a sense of urgency vs comfort, of obsession, of being consumed by your work until you don't know anything else from the two doctors that there wasn't really with Sam's struggle, so they aren't fully comparable.

The last relationship I'd like to bring up is the Doctor and Joanna's. I really enjoyed how heavily the book explored the pain Sam felt at watching the Doctor, this man she'd devoted herself to, finally find someone he could relate to, but only in the form of the woman leading the people who'd hurt her. The Doctor held the Master in his arms and forgave him as the people he'd imprisoned looked on, hurt; the Doctor and Joanna form a very intense bond to the point where they are part of each other while Sam looks on, hurt. Joanna was immortal, and around the same age as the Doctor; how could Sam, a mere mortal, ever compare? But in the end, what mattered most wasn't just their similarity in age or experience; it was ideals. It was morality. The Doctor chose where he stood and he chose it well; he showed Sam he cared, that he tried, and that the wonders were worth the pain. The vampires were worth it for the sake of butterflies.

The entire story was a really interesting character breakdown of the Doctor, and of Sam's attachment to him/the overall process of doctorification. A must-read for any scholars in that department. That bit of "do you want me to be the man with a plan who always mean to commit murder or the guy who pulled it all out of the hat at the last second, adapting because I had to" really encapsulates the great struggle of how different writers choose to write the Doctor. Always a binary, always a division - is 13 the mentally ill alien in a powerful position manipulating and stringing Yaz along, or is she really just that happy and bouncy and enthusiastic, with the dark stuff being one-offs? Did 12 push that man, or did he fall? Was 11 a golden retriever or did he have serious anger issues? Was 10 naturally all TLV and that was held off by his companions, or was the TLV stuff something new that he ended up heading towards because of specific events and he wouldn't have done all that had everything in waters of mars not played out how it did? Also, see *waves hands* all of 7's era. This division is so key to how we understand the Doctor - the fact that we never know for sure. Is he a manipulative asshole or a good person gone momentarily astray, are his eyes green or blue, is he half-human or fully strange and alien and eldritch? We never get a consistent answer, and that's part of who he is. Really interesting stuff all around. A star to Kate Orman and Jon Blum, they sure did understand the source material!

The whole thing was so well written. Admittedly I did feel that it was a bit odd the way they waited for the last few pages to get to the climax but it all worked so I'm not complaining.

Now, the one you've all been waiting for: the gay. Why was David Shackle never more explicitly gay. Literally, these two authors showed me the most queer-coded man I've ever met and then went "yeah... he can't stop thinking about this girl he knows though". Like, this book had two main characters be explicitly bi, first scene in a gay club, and whatever the f**k was happening when the Doctor was slowly undressing for that circle of vampires, and yet they couldn't take one sentence to mention that he liked guys but was too depressed for the dating game right now. Come on. (Not really that mad, excellent representation in other ways, just complaining in that gossipy way because I can).

I know I've discussed Sam a lot, but there is something I have to mention - her assault. The VNAs have a reputation for gratuitous violence, including of a sezual nature, and I am glad to say that this has not been the case for this EDA (can't comment on the rest of the EDAs yet, I'm afraid, but I have hope). There was violence, but it was necessary, and not at all gratuitious - I am referring, of course to when Sam was assaulted on the dancefloor of the club. Orman and Blum leveraged the status of the Vampire as a predator, a representation of lust and otherness and terror, to tell a story about the effect that assault has on people's lives, and how it is so interwoven with the club scene. She was young and often seen as someone who needed 'protection', and then she was violated. The rest of the book was her taking back control after feeling like it had been stolen from her; the authors allowed her space to grieve, to fear, to feel, and most of all, to fight back. I really respect the way her trauma was explored throughout the story.

A couple last thoughts - omg the kittens. guys there's a whole scene where the Doctor keeps pulling kittens out of increasingly unlikely places. read it if just for that. Also, I haven't had space to talk about them but James and the general are such interesting characters - it's lovely to see how fleshed out they are, and how much space is given for the people left behind by the Doctor. The people who have to deal with the disasters he leaves in his wake. An easy-to-follow and terribly emotional story all around; the only reason I knocked it down half a star is because the emotions don't stop to the point where I had to take a break from reading it for a week or so because I was so overwhelmed. The fact that his story from nearly 30 years ago still has so much relevance to what we are going through today is testament to it's understanding of the issues it deals with, it's strong writing, and the writers' dedication to the story that they're telling.

There was a lot more I could have commented on but if I said everything I'd a) have to reread the whole thing again just to make sure I got everything, and b) be here forever. All I can say is: Read this book. It's really good.

(5/5 - vague spoilers towards the end)

Just finished The Ark in Space for the first time, and man, was that a fun ride! Well, 'fun' might be a stretch - the tone was darker and less, well, silly than I'm used to (coming from mainly watching 3's era and parts of 7's so far), and although I usually prefer my entertaining Sillies, for this particular story, the graver tone worked in it's favour. Good start for Philip Hinchcliffe!

Apart from the tone, the pace was also not what I was used to - it was slower, more methodical, more well thought-out than what I've seen of Classic so far. It really felt like everything had been carefully planned so it wouldn't feel like too much was squeezed into one episode, and that paid off. This serial was well-made and full of suspense; a classic that'll leave you on the edge of your seat!

I do have a few minor gripes - Sarah Jane's damsel-in-distress demeanour was often too much for me to take, though nicely offset by having another woman who was both in charge and not at all damselly. Still, could've done with a little less of the hysterical screaming! I did also notice the odd flub here and there. I remember there was one that annoyed me early on but I've forgotten it now - the other more serious one was that the station was repeatedly said to be in deep space, and then suddenly they seemed to have moved as Earth was nearby and in the shot! But these things can easily be explained away, even if the serial itself did not explain them, and so they weren't such major issues as to in any way diminish my enjoyment of the story.

Tom Baker's performance was marvellous, and I really felt like I got a taste of the new TARDIS crew dynamic, and the new crewmember! The romance/loyalty between the doomed lovers was actually quite moving. I'm normally a bit biased against these hetero romances because they often feel like they're shoved in just for the sake of it, but this one was plot-relevant and genuinely heartrendering. The monsters were interesting (and reminded me rather of Dot and Bubble's slugs - RIP Wirrn, you would have loved those slugs! Fellow racist-eating creatures). All in all, a very well made and well thought out story!

If you've read any of my reviews before, you'll know I always comment on the politics - and oh, what a juicy one this was! Again, a little like Dot and Bubble - we got a crew full of uptight upper class racist nationalists who were worried about the contamination their species might face by aliens... sound familiar? The way the Doctor theorised that this ship was carrying all that was left of humanity, all differences forgotten, *all colours and creeds*, only to find out just how wrong he was... marvellous. Breathtaking. We were immediately faced with a bunch of white people looking down on the Doctor and his companions for the way they talked, people who had been chosen, the best of the best, to survive while all the other humans perished. They would be the saviours of the human race, and all else is, what, filth? Ah, no, that's right - 'regressives'. The idea of these select snooty white rich (well, upper-class, so the rich part was more implied) people thinking that they represented the best of the human race and their disregard for other species (and even other humans!) certainly stinks of white nationalism. Perhaps my mind is drawn there because of the race riots that are rampaging across the UK right now, a bunch of white people thinking that all other people are lesser, that they are somehow more human, more patriotic, 'better' than everyone else... yeah, this serial really hit home. 50 odd years later and it's still relevant.

And then at the end, how (real spoilers here!) Vira seemed to be more open to the idea of aliens, and of other humans who weren't 'chosen', simply because a few of them had done nothing but help her. Positive human interaction being the way to change people's mind, the way forward, instead of immediately resorting to violence - I think that's a lesson we can all learn from.

So, interesting and relevant politics, excellent acting and storytelling, and a dark tone with well-thought-out pacing have really paid off to create one of the - rightfully! - most beloved and consistently highly-rated serials of Doctor Who.

Just watched the last episode tonight, and I have to say, I'm disappointed. I went in expecting to like this a lot more than I did. I've always liked the idea of the Silurians, these Terran 'aliens', but just didn't really enjoy their introductory story. Vague spoilers from here on out. (3/5)

For one thing, the serial went on way too long. I understand that it was likely some financial thing or quota they had to meet - X number of 7-episode serials in the season, something like that - but it really felt detrimental to the story, or, should I say, stories. It felt like two in one - the first couple episodes were a murder mystery with the possibility of humanity and the Silurians reaching a compromise, with the pace methodical and measured, and then there was a sudden jump to people rushing about and viruses (never tell me these old episodes aren't relevant to today!) and so many bodies piling up... it was just too big a change. I think that it would have worked much better if it had been split into two serials, with the first being the murder mystery and the tentative truce resolution, and the second coming later in the season with a rogue faction of Silurians who want to kill humanity, similar to the zygon invasion/inversion double.

I also thought the costumes weren't great, (though the 'third eye' design was quite cool), the noise the Silurians' eye made was downright horrendous (my sensory processing disorder was screaming in agony), and the ending was abrupt and unsatisfying.

However, the serial wasn't a total loss. Caroline John and Pertwee's acting was splendid, and I felt that the first couple episodes were compelling and entertaining. When there weren't so many people rushing about, just Liz and Three talking about the lengths that UNIT might go or the secrets they were keeping, the serial was at it's most interesting. And the sombre tone at the end and the examination of UNIT's actions and intentions were certainly moving and thought-provoking.

So, that brings my review to an end - I didn't personally enjoy it much overall, but there was some great acting and some fantastic moments that makes the serial worth watching.