Next Who Sunday: The Twelfth Night, Steven Moffat

This year’s Christmas special presents a new Doctor (Christmas presents, get it, GET IT?). “Twelfth Night” closes out the Eleventh Doctor’s run which began with “The Eleventh Hour” (remember fish fingers and custard and the crack in Amy’s wall) and introduces Twelve, so I felt a play on words was appropriate. I have no idea what’s happening here except we’re losing the excellent Matt Smith and gaining the excellent Peter Capaldi, so this should be a very merry episode except that Eleven dies. Man, I hate those regenerations; I’m still mourning Nine and Ten.

Who Sunday: The Day of the Doctor, Steven Moffat


I cannot imagine the pressure Steven Moffat was under with this one. Fifty years of tradition and a world of rabid fans just waiting to be disappointed (largest international telecast of a drama ever). And he did it. For all my bitching about Moffat’s tenure as show runner, he pulled together fifty years of Doctors, giving us amazing moments over and over again. I laughed, I cried, I cheered, it was wonderful. (I can’t remember ever before thinking, “Oh, YES!” at seeing an actor’s eyes for just a few moments: “No, THIRTEEN!” My heart did a fan squee.) He even managed to explain why the three latest Doctors have been so young. And Bad Wolf Rose was fabulous, and John Hurt as the Warrior Doctor and Smith and Tennant sparring (“You kissed a Zygon. I don’t judge.”) I could quibble, but that would be dumb; it’s a great show and it does what every great story does, it turns things around and make them new again. Outstanding job, Mr. Moffat.

And after you’ve watched the masterpiece, check out “The Fiveish Doctors,” the story of how the Doctor actors who were left out of the anniversary special managed to be in it anyway. So much fun.

Who Sunday: The Crimson Horror, Mark Gatiss


As a big Diana Rigg fan, I love her performance in this. She’s never been afraid of over-the-top characters (remember Emma Peel in the feather outfit in the birdcage?) so she really bites into Mrs. Gillyflower with a complete absence of vanity and sanity. There’s something about evil that is complacent in its confidence that’s more chilling than rampaging demons. Mrs. Gillyflower is completely round the bend, but she’s good with that, thanks. Continue reading