Ahh, 1983. M*A*S*H, the moonwalk, ‘Mawdryn Undead’. Oh, and Mutually Assured Destruction. Good times.
But a bad time for The Doctor and Clara to land aboard a stricken Russian nuclear submarine. At the helm is Liam Cunningham, being all authoritarian and troubled, just as he was in BBC One’s short-lived space oddity Outcasts; while in the hold is David Warner, toting naught but a Walkman and a loveable grandfatherly nature.
You know that feeling you got as a child when you had to sing a song in front of the whole school? Well, they’ve gone and made a Doctor Who episode about it.
It’s a truism that Doctor Who inspires playground re-enactment; but rarely has an episode so obviously been designed with Monday morning playtime in mind. So much of the story is imitable: from the alien who barks like a dog to the fact that the monster is defeated with an autumn leaf. A psychically-charged, totemic sort of leaf, but a leaf nonetheless.
Doctor Who’s ‘Destiny of the Doctor’ series reaches its fourth instalment with ‘Babblesphere’, a tale for Tom Baker’s Doctor and Lalla Ward’s Romana. Written by Jonathan Morris, the play is performed by Ward with Roger Parrott.
Arriving on the Earth colony of Hephastos, the time travellers come across a replica of the palace of Versailles encased in a geodesic dome and set amid a harsh volcanic landscape. Within, they find an artistic commune where the perils of social media are writ large.
So, you’ve scoffed all the chocolate, watched the umpteenth repeat of Uncle Buck on TV and vaguely pondered the true meaning of this extended bank holiday. What now, very few people ask.
Well, how about a bevy of horror releases and a documentary about one of the greatest films of that genre? More chocolate? Sorry, it’ll have to be the movies.
Given the star and showrunner – 24’s Kiefer Sutherland and Heroes creator Tim Kring respectively – you could be forgiven for expecting something of a thrill-a-minute ride from Touch. It eschews expectations, however, providing a narrative that, whilst occasionally contrived, relies on elegantly scripted drama rather than intense action beats.
While the bodies have been steadily piling up over the course of this season (particularly in last week’s episode), ‘Separate Paths’ is the first episode that really hammers home just how damned the central characters of Spartacus are.
‘Every great magic trick consists of three parts’, says Michael Caine in Christopher Nolan’s gaslight and handsomeness extravaganza The Prestige. Someone forgot to pass the message on to Jonathan Creek.
Ah, Westeros. It’s good to be back.
This first slice of Season 3 is primarily an establishing episode, settling some loose ends from the previous season’s epic climax, while setting up some new threads for the many characters. With so many locations, characters and plots, it’s inevitable that at certain points the show has to slow down and stage a piece-moving episode like this, but Game of Thrones still makes them hugely enjoyable.
Well, we can probably now discount Jack Marshall as a suspect. Can’t we?
That’s the thing about Broadchurch: to be certain of anything is to risk being utterly wrong. It’s the dilemma the townspeople face this week as their collective gaze turns on a quiet old man who looks a lot like William Hartnell. The murder of Danny Latimer has stirred the sands of the Jurassic Coast, uncovering not only evidence like high tar cigarettes, but also events that some would rather stay buried.
You’ll have noticed this already, but In the Flesh has not been about zombies. It’s been a kitchen sink drama, disguised by rotting flesh. The pale skin and the mutated eyes designed to attract your attention as, underneath, the thoroughly human message of the show has played out: the human capacity for love and forgiveness. It just so happens that the restless dead make a great allegory for laying things to rest.