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Doctor Who, What, Where, When, Why and How
A personal Doctor Who viewing memoir

The TV Movie

I can’t remember when I heard that there was definitely going to be a new Doctor Who film. There had been rumours for years – certainly the three years I’d been following things had seen dozens of stories that things were definitely happening, probably happening, closer to happening, definitely not happening, would be happening but were so bad they shouldn’t be happening and everywhere in between. Five words to chill the marrow from that period – "a Tardis with rapping lips". Two words to scare the little children with – "David Hasslehoff". There were going to be big budget cinema films, straight to video cheapo films, remakes of classic stories, American mini series and cartoons. So it wasn’t until Ceefax broke the news that Paul McGann was going to play the Doctor that things fell firmly into place. This was actually going to happen – rumours were a thing of the past. This was real. I have no idea when the news was announced but it was big enough for me to take an executive decision and not do any work that day.

Before the film was broadcast there was the tie in magazine which managed to include the entire plot and which I think folded out into an enormous poster. Thankfully by now a poster of McGann in costume rather than the hastily arranged photo call with him in civvies holding a bit of crystal like it was the secret of life, the universe and everything. I was aware of Paul McGann from "Withnail and I" (a film I didn’t appreciate until years later when it officially became brilliant) and even I could see that Richard E Grant would’ve been a more obvious choice. Still, he wasn’t David Hasslehoff.

Next came the trailers – lots of bits from the last few minutes of buildings stretching upwards and clocks ticking over. They were hugely exciting to someone who had never seen Doctor Who trailers before. If I’m honest I still get chills when I see a New Series trailer on BBC1. That’s proper telly that is. Doctor Who being trailed on proper telly.

Then we had the video – cleverly released shortly before the film premiered on TV – which was delayed by a week and therefore excitement had reached boiling point when it finally reached the shelves. I was walking down the stairs in Coventry’s Virgin Megastore when I looked at the bank of televisions and saw a fish’s head about to be chopped off. "That’s odd" I said inwardly. "I thought they would’ve been playing Doctor Who." It was only when I watched the video later that evening that I saw the fish’s head about to be chopped off and realised that it was symbolism at its most subtle and integral to the film’s plot.

No, I shouldn’t be sarcastic about it. Not here. Because this meant to be about what I thought and felt at the time and at the time I loved it. I watched it twice on the first day and again when it was on BBC1 a few days later. For weeks after I would play those opening couple of minutes and get excited all over again. People borrowed my video and they all thought it was ace. Doctor Who was back and… it was about time. A pun that will never not be great.

And then there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The ratings were good – here at least – but the silence was ominous. We gradually began to hear that a series wouldn’t be commissioned. McGann’s Doctor – and Doctor Who itself – was back on ice. At the time this was terrible news – even those who hated the movie could accept that it was "Encounter at Farpoint" and "Star Trek The Next Generation" turned out pretty good. A bad pilot didn’t mean the series would be rubbish. I finished reading Tat Wood’s "About Time volume 6" not long ago and he gave an outline of the planned first season. Thank god – thank all the gods anyone has ever believed in – that this series didn’t happen. I could barely turn the pages of the book, my body had gone so stiff at what I’d read. I won’t attempt a précis – get the book or find someone with stronger nerves to explain it to you – but it would’ve been the worst television series ever made. Not even Paul McGann could’ve made it watchable.

I got the DVD – the main appeal being the isolated music score as I really liked the theme tune in those days – and can remember watching it one Boxing Day. Twice. Again. It must’ve been something about bank holidays. To be fair once was with the commentary on. It is the worst Doctor Who commentary of all by the way. Geoffrey Sax has a few good points to make but it is so boring to listen to that you miss most of them. I’ve seen Philip Seagal interviewed and he’s quite jolly – he’d have made a much better commentator. He actually thinks the movie was good too which would’ve made it hilarious. But he was probably too expensive or not available or in the wrong country at the time so we had to make do with Sax. On his own. For 90 minutes. Never again.

I realised at the end of the third season of New Doctor Who that the first three minutes of the TV Movie introduced as much Doctor Who lore as the first three seasons of New Who. Really – the Daleks, the Time Lords, regeneration, Skaro, the Tardis, the Master, the Seventh Doctor, thirteen lives, the sonic screwdriver and probably lots more that I can’t remember. It really makes you appreciate Russell T Davies’s approach to New Who. I’ve been critical of a lot of the things he’s done but he got that spot on.

The Curse of Fatal Death

Was this shown in four chunks? I think I remember it in four chunks. Spread over a Comic Relief night that was otherwise unwatchable. I’m sorry but Comic Relief has become painful since the glory days when it was new and exciting. I’m of the opinion that you give money to charity silently and regularly and don’t just do it to be "wacky" or to get your face on the telly. Was it really worth shaving your eye brows off to raise £80? Of course it was if Lenny Henry reads your name off an autocue and tells the whole nation that you "must be bonkers". But Curse of Fatal Death was the exception – it was good. Though it was actually good rather than merely being new Doctor Who of a more or less semi-official flavour. The jokes – penned by future show runner Steven Moffat (and when did television decide that the lowest rung on the ladder – a show’s runner – would have almost exactly the same job title as the highest rung on the ladder?) – work on many different levels. To the public at large it is taking the piss out of Doctor Who. To the fans it is taking the piss out of Doctor Who in a knowing and clever way (just as fans flatter themselves that they do).

My initial thoughts were that Rowan Atkinson would make a good actual Doctor and Jonathan Pryce would make the best Master since Roger Delgado. It is actually a shame he was in Curse of Fatal Death because it precludes him from ever doing the part for real. I’ve not seen it in many years but unless the memory cheats he would’ve been a much better choice than Comrade Simm. As for Julia Sawalha, she’s Julia Sawalha and anyone who grew up (a) watching Press Gang and (b) fancying girls cannot help but watch anything Julia Sawalha is in without dribbling slightly.

I remember getting the video on the day of its release and skipping to the extras – then a novel concept in the nascent days of DVDs. The French and Saunders sketch stood out as particularly pathetic. I’ve never been a fan of their work – which is strange as I like them both as people and find them funny when they are being themselves – but this seemed bad even by their standards. If they were men they would be lumped in with Hale and Pace (despite the latter having raised a couple of laughs in the late 80s, something F and S cannot even claim) in the League One of comedy double acts. But because they are women and therefore special, they are lauded as Premiership comedians. This will never change but it ought to. Speaking about French and Saunders in the same mouthful as Fry and Laurie is wrongness on a quite breathtaking scale. But I digress. The rest of the sketches were fine but Curse of Fatal Death blew them out of the water by being enjoyable to both fans (the people who would be buying the video) and non fans alike. It ushered in a new era where Doctor Who sketches were made by people who knew what they were talking about – fans like Mark Gatiss and David Walliams. So Curse of Fatal Death not only raised a bit of money for charity (a good thing I think we can agree) but it showed the world that they could laugh at Doctor Who without resorting to rubbish jokes about Daleks, stairs and not being able to climb them.

The Announcement

And then it happened. I opened the computer one morning and turned to the latest posts on Planet Skaro. One of the Simons had started a thread saying Doctor Who was coming back. Hmm. Cynicism engaged – this was probably a new range of tea towels or a five minute sketch for Five Live in which the Doctor and the wrong companion go back to the World Cup final of 1966. It certainly didn’t mean that… oh. It couldn't mean that... oh.

Yes it did.

It wasn’t vague, it wasn’t speculative, it wasn’t a rumour, it wasn’t Alan Yentob saying "wait and see" and it wasn’t another blooming webcast. I clicked the link to the official BBC website and there was a Flash animation which gave us all the facts there were – yes it was coming back, in 2005, written by Russell T Davies, there is no more information. I did what anyone would’ve done in that situation – I went to the Trafford Centre and bought both Sapphire and Steel boxed sets to celebrate.

Epilogue

And that's my story. It didn't end there of course - there was this website, eleven years (and counting) of Big Finish CDs and the small matter of five seasons and a year of specials from Cardiff. But the story I wanted to tell was that of classic Doctor Who. Of coming to the party fairly late and, thanks to the wonders of videos and UK Gold, mega-cramming the whole of Doctor Who into my head in much the same way Donna did in that one with Davros and Nick Briggs doing his mental person voice. I wrote this in three fevered weeks back in the summer of 2008 and I've sort of got plans to revisit it as an e-book. But for now that's your lot. Bye.