Doctor Who: The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe

Okay, here goes. First stab at a bloggy-reviewy thing. Picture the scene: Family TempleG sit down after a day of excess to partake of the latest adventure of a travelling Time Lord...

Time Lord shrieking his way to Earth

I loved this one. My kids loved it. Even the notably cynical fiancée loved it. Moffat pulled off an hour of mixed magic: bouncing from Who, to Narnia, to the shiny bits of Christmas, and back to happy Who tears. And – given I was more than slightly drunk and the kids were practically comatose from cartoons and chocolate (more variety next year, eh?) – this year’s episode was perfectly timed.

Glowy forest souls approaching head. Really.

Things that got the laughs: lamp-posting, lemonade tapping, hammock-missing, scrabbling through the atmosphere, spontaneous baubles, the suddenly scared Bill Bailey, the water-pistol, the ‘er, come outside’… Lots of stuff. Including a brief explanation of the fifth Doctor’s last weekend (okay, I say laughs. Cushions were thrown).  And all those moments of smartness are just great for the kids. I love watching them understand what Moffat is doing. “He’s playing with Narnia, now,” says the 12 year old…loudly hoping for a goat-boy who never appears.  “Oh! He’s hiding, isn’t he!” spots her middle brother – empathising with a Caretaker.   “That girl’s never 14! She looks 19,” says the 19 year old from his own, dark place.  And then a further discussion of how obvious it is that River was Amy’s daughter and the Doctor was in a fake Doctor and everyone at school got it and it’s nice that this is different for Christmas now shut up there’s a wooden man!  And I may have my own happy tears that Who does this.

Arrietty with eyebrows.

Did anything seem odd? Not that the family spotted. My outer nerd felt the clashing of Androzani styles - from caves to forests.  He also felt the pull of Four to Doomsday – only at speed and not rubbish. And – more an inner freak thing – stared open-mouthed as the mother-power theme was topped off by a post-phallic golf-ball powering its way through a big puffy tunnel. But, wasn’t it lovely to see Rory? And weren’t the stars, direction, grading, editing, music, effects and sound all wonderful? And the forest was nearly as mesmerising as Arrietty’s eyebrows in this year’s Borrowers. 

Could anything have been better? At all? Perhaps a light script edit in the crowning scenes; the attitudes on the GallifreyBase review thread  (Really. They’re like being followed home by someone unloving and disrespectful. On the sunny side, I’ve trademarked  ‘Immodium-Who’ for next year – ‘Shove a sense of perspective down your throat this Christmas!’ - get it early!); and bring back Confidential!! Please. There was a painful silence where Confidential should have been. 

Gulp. Something in eye.

So, all in all, this was gorgeous and beautifully done. It worked as another twist on Who-devours-literature, Who does Who, and Who sparkles-up the Christmas schedules.

And it certainly sparkled in our house.