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|    jphalt@aol.com to All    |
|    Re: jphalt's Doctor Who reviews    |
|    13 Jul 12 21:51:30    |
      From Newsgroup: rec.arts.drwho.moderated       From Address: jphalt@aol.com       Subject: Re: jphalt's Doctor Who reviews              DELTA AND THE BANNERMEN              3 episodes. Approx. 73 minutes. Written by: Malcolm Kohll. Directed       by: Chris Clough. Produced by: John Nathan Turner.                     THE PLOT              The TARDIS lands in a galactic toll booth, and the Doctor prepares for       some fast talking to get out of paying. But the Tollmaster (Ken Dodd)       has news for him: He is the toll booth's ten billionth customer, and       so he and Mel have won a trip with Nostalgia Tours to Disneyland,       1959.              The trip goes astray when the tour bus collides with an American       satellite, and the travellers crash land in the right year but the       wrong place. They are in Shangri-La, a run-down Welsh holiday camp.       Still, they determine to make the best of things, and the Doctor and       the bus driver quickly convince Burton (Richard Davies), the camp's       owner, to allow them lodging.              But two members of the tour are not what they seem. The reclusive       Delta (Belinda Mayne) is the last of the Chimeron, a race that was       hunted to extinction by the evil Gavrok (Don Henderson) and his       ruthless Bannermen. Also aboard is a bounty hunter - and he has just       reported Delta's presence.              Gavrok is on his way, and the siege of Shangri-La is about to begin!                     CHARACTERS              The Doctor: Sylvester McCoy remains best in his quieter moments:       Reflecting over a dead mercenary that "violence always rebounds on       itself," or reacting nonverbally as young Ray (Sara Griffiths),       crestfallen at rejection from Billy (David Kinder), grabs the Doctor       for a dance. All of these moments are terrific ones for McCoy, who       seems absolutely in his element here.              However, the end of Episode Two showcases his greatest weakness as the       Doctor: His difficulty conveying anger. The face-down with Gavrok is       meant to be a climactic moment, one in which this Doctor finally shows       his full authority. But McCoy just doesn't pull it off. His rage isn't       convincing, and his authority flatly isn't there. When he orders the       Bannermen to release their prisoners and they comply, I'm wondering       why they don't just shoot him and have done with it.              Mel: Bonnie Langford's best performance in Season Twenty-Four. This       is, admittedly, not saying much. Still, Malcolm Kohll's script       deserves credit for highlighting the most appealing aspects of Mel's       character: Her compassion, her instinctive desire to help. Langford       seems very much at home here, and simple unforced moments such as Mel       enjoying herself at a dance go a long way toward making both actress       and character genuinely work for a change.              Ray: Or the companion who might have been. Sara Griffiths is       appealing, but I think the production team ultimately made the right       decision. Griffiths is charming, but Ray is fairly bland in what would       have been her establishing story. I suspect she would have receded       completely into the background had she been part of the series on an       ongoing basis.                     GAVROK AND THE SEVENTH DOCTOR'S SECOND BIRTH              At the end of Episode Two, the Doctor confronts the story's principle       villain, Gavrok (Don Henderson). Gavrok is no Davros, no Master, no       Harrison Chase even. He isn't articulate, he doesn't have any grand       vision. If he even has a motive for wiping out the Chimeron, we aren't       told what it is. He doesn't even seem to take much satisfaction in his       misdeeds. He kills not for pleasure, but simply because he can.              As he chomps on a piece of raw meat, the Doctor comes to him under a       white flag of truce. Any of the Doctor's usual enemies would respect       that flag. It would only be civilized, after all, and his usual foes       never miss a chance for some urbane gloating. Gavrok sees him coming       and takes a potshot - not at the Doctor but at the flag, showing his       disdain. The Doctor snaps, appalled at everything that Gavrok is, by       his own admission going "a little too far" in castigating the villain       from a position of powerlessness.              Call it my private fan theory, but I think this is the moment at which       the Seventh Doctor's persona shifts. The cheerful little man we've       been watching will soon be scouring time and space, no longer content       to simply defeat evil as he stumbles across it but instead seeking it       out. From the Second Doctor's "Evil must be fought," the Seventh       Doctor will instead declare through his actions that "Evil must be       sought." And I think it's here - staring into the basest, ugliest,       most brutish face of evil - that this shift in attitude and focus       begins. Seeing evil with no civilized veneer to mask its ugliness, the       Doctor becomes angry. The rage ends quickly, but the disgust lingers,       changing him for the rest of this incarnation's life.                     THOUGHTS              Delta and the Bannermen is the story that most perfectly encapsulates       Season Twenty-Four, both its failings and its virtues. It is a unique       story in the series' run, and the one most representative of the 1987       season as a whole.              Delta and the Bannermen has many charming moments. Most of them are       packed into the story's first half. I love the Doctor's awkward       attempts to comfort Ray in Episode One, for example. When Ray throws       her arms around him and starts sobbing into his chest, the look on       Sylvester McCoy's face is priceless - It's exactly the kind of       nonverbal comedy McCoy is best at.              More good moments occur in Episode Two. With the Bannermen on their       way, the Doctor must quickly convince Burton that he isn't insane. He       does so by showing the man his TARDIS. The holiday camp owner's       reaction is perfect: "Can we take her for a bit of a spin?" Burton       then lines up his staff and insists they go to safety for a couple of       days, carefully avoiding telling them the truth lest he make himself       look crazy. As his staff leaves, he tells Mel that he has misgivings       about sending them away, but he "cannot risk (his) staff." These are       all good scenes, all utterly charming.              Episode Three still has a sense of fun to it, but it is by far the       weakest installment. The reason? This is the only episode to be       significantly concerned with the plot. And the biggest problem with       this is Gavrok. While I like the idea of Gavrok, an evil force who is       simply a brute with no charm or charisma, he doesn't quite work in       practice. Part of the reason has to do with the character's stupidity.       The Doctor sets up an obvious trap for him midway through Episode       Three, luring him and his men into an ambush by bees. Gavrok doesn't       even hesitate, doesn't show the slightest sign of shrewdness. He just       runs headlong into the trap, with the kind of tactical genius that is       usually reserved for clumsy puppies.              Another problem is the violence. Near the end of Episode Two, Gavrok       destroys a bus that is full of likable side characters. Mel is       appalled... for the space of about thirty seconds, after which this       massacre is never even mentioned. Again, I love the idea of having a       moment of such brutality in the midst of such a whimsical story. This       moment should have been a jolt to the audience, a reminder that while       this universe might be fun, it is never safe. But the execution fails.       The effect is limp, the other characters barely react, and the whole       thing is forgotten even by the audience within minutes of occurring.              Still, if Delta and the Bannermen doesn't always work, it is at least       trying. It's probably the most ambitious story of the season: A light       tone, stuffed with charming character moments and period detail, all       acting as backdrop for what is at its core a very grim plot. The craft       isn't there to make it work: The Bannermen should clash with the light       tone, instead of being laughably ineffectual and thus swallowed by       that tone. But the charming moments are worth the trip, and at three       episodes it doesn't outstay its welcome.              Seriously flawed by the most generous measure, but enjoyable on its       own terms. I wouldn't say I'd recommend it, as such. But it's not       quite like any other Doctor Who story, and it is the one serial I       would show to completely answer the question, "What is Season Twenty-       Four like?" For that alone, I can find no hate in me for this silly,       messy little concoction.                     Rating: 5/10.              --- Synchronet 3.15a-Linux NewsLink 1.92-mlp        * Origin: http://groups.google.com (1:2320/105.97)       --- SBBSecho 2.12-Linux        * Origin: telnet & http://cco.ath.cx - Dial-Up: 502-875-8938 (1:2320/105.1)    |
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