The Brigadier has been brought to the newest state of the United States, Malebolgia, to offer support in nation-building and that sort of thing. The Doctor is stranded, sans memory, in a revolutionary new institution.
Clocking in at just over 2 hours, Minuet in Hell has the scope of a novel. There is a distinct Torchwood vibe, especially with the whole “mysterious medical institution” business. Instead of Torchwood, it's the Brig who is the symbol of order and authority. I've not previously encountered stories where he's taken on such an independent, investigative role, and it's fun to see.
The story does gloss over the hallmarks of a cult and goes straight into demon summoning and psychological experiments. Many of the baddie-adjacent characters are also larger than life and written stereotypically American. Even the main baddie is almost comical, with the number of one-liners and cheesy lines. While it is a terribly effective foil to the familiar characters, it's hard to reconcile this with the down to earth Brig – particularly why he wouldn't be more cynical.
In any case, I always enjoy the Brig's appearances. Similar to Lestrade in the Sherlock Holmes stories, he is at once the exhausted leader forever catching up with the brilliant protagonist and the symbol of establishment trying to do things right. And that, my friends, is a huge mood for these times.
House of Silents follows on from the events of Season 6 – a generation later in-universe, so perhaps a decade or so later. This time we see it from the perspective of UNIT, with Osgood and Kate Stewart taking center stage. This story delves into the nature of the Silents, casting them as an intelligent species driven to desperation, but this chapter of the story offers no resolution, only buying time.
I've always been fascinated by the psychotropic effects of the Silents. For those who don't know (or have forgotten…), the Silents were humanoid creatures, always sharply dressed for some reason, who erase themselves from human working memory. Turn around, and you'll ever forget you saw it. In this story, though, they almost seem like… stray cats (!). While they seem slightly robbed of their fearsomeness here, it doesn't take too much away from the action.
Nevertheless, I enjoy the UNIT stories, especially the dynamic between Kate Stewart and Osgood; a monster so inextricably linked with UNIT is naturally the best way to explore those relationships.
Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) from the Doctor Who universe gets his own highlight with his underground investigative unit, Torchwood (named for Doctor Who S02E02, Tooth and Claw). Police Constable Gwen Cooper (Eve Myles) stumbles across them in the pilot, and ends up joining them.
The characters in the team fit neatly into archetypes. Owen is the slightly arrogant, brash one; Toshiko is studious, Asian and good with computers; Ianto is Nice. Gwen Cooper is, I suppose, the emotional heart, but it's hard to tell. She is a little like Jenny Lee in the first season of Call the Midwife – no obvious archetype, always a little more emotionally involved than anyone else.
The stories in each episode are decent, even through the filter of 14-year-old visual effects. It doesn't have the wild inventiveness and imagined technological universes of Doctor Who, which is a pity as they had the scope for it – it is meant to be a collection of the brightest scientists and “operatives” (whatever that means) after all. Harkness tends to be the lynchpin. Dashing, conventionally handsome and flirty with absolutely anyone and possibly anything, he gives the group and indeed the stories some momentum.
A rotating cast of white British men act as the “helicoptered-in” detective inspector working with a tiny team of local sergeants and constables. Each DI starts their run of episodes literally flying in, most often from London, and often struggle with culture shock, to comedic effect.
Despite the fairly frequent cast changes, the stories emphasise camaraderie and community. Where the previous shows I've talked about focus on how close-knit communities close around their own and exclude the outsiders, community in Death in Paradise is much more inclusive. There's more about taking care of each other and accepting each other's foibles.
Each episode is incredibly formulaic. Plenty of locked room mysteries here, only slightly bumbling detective work and a round-up at the end. Comfort watching, only if you don't mind the lingering taste of colonialism.
A space cruise is thrown off course and the command team have to deal with a ship they don't really understand and thousands of snotty, entitled tourists.
Hugh Laurie plays Captain Ryan Clark, who finds himself far, far out of his depth having to go between the ship's chief engineer (Billie McEvoy) who – spoiler – actually knows what she's doing, and the profit-driven, bumbling CEO Herman Judd (Josh Gad). The captain's ineffectual, vocal anger is a foil for Judd's clumsy, hare-brained capers. Is it a pointed critique of our times? Or a perfect story setup?
The ship is a parody of the entertainment industry – there are many familiar aspects to Avenue 5, from the delusional focus on optics (i.e. suspiciously photogenic crew) to the self-centred, impressionable tourists. Death initially appears remote – as it tends to do, on a cruise – but soon becomes old news. Comedic, full of dark humour, but with a solid core of story.
The Doctor (Peter Davison) and Nyssa (Sarah Sutton) are chased across Alaska by a savage monster and take shelter in a tycoon's house. Isolated by the weather and the terrifying aftermath of the chase
The cast of characters is straight out of an Agatha Christie story. The materialistic million Shaun Brett (Christopher Scott); the adopted heir Tulung (Neil Roberts).
The story treads familiar Doctor Who territory. Lots of tropes that I enjoy: strange creatures, physics, and restricted environments. Plus, the money-grubbing evil tycoon, because they seem so much less powerful than the real-life versions.
But it's hard to ignore the exoticism around First Nations culture, embodied by Tulung. Sadly this is not new in Who, but it is frustrating to bump up against it again and again. I think Tulung also falls into the “educated savage” trope, who despite his eloquence and education is always treated as lesser because of his origins.
I did enjoy it overall: great voice acting, good dynamic between characters, fantastic monster sound effects. Despite the hand-wavey mythology, it's still an interesting and fast-moving story.
A short webseries about a software developer who gets post-humously uploaded to a virtual afterlife, but... not is all as it seems...
With sitcom-length episodes, they're well-paced and flow well. It has the aesthetic and some of the tropes of The Good Place. The better comparison, however, is probably Avenue 5, with its dark humour and pointed portrayal of capitalism.
The show is set in a capitalist dystopia of an America, but remains surprisingly optimistic. It captures spoilt rich kids (and adults who remain forever kids because of who they are) to a tee, and exploring what a future shaped by virtual reality could look like. The relationships between characters are heartfelt though, and I thought the kid characters in particular were well-written.
Exploring what personhood and empirical reality looks like when the virtual alternative is almost indistinguishable raises plenty of ethical grey areas, and the series alludes to them, though it never quite goes into exploring them.
Even before I watched it, I knew I would add this movie to my “comfort watching” list. It is delightful from start to finish.
David Copperfield tells the story of the many families he's been in, the many lives and names that he's taken up. Moving from poverty to riches, London to Kent to Yarmouth, each story has a distinct voice.
The casting is incredible. Dev Patel would make a fantastic Doctor – there's Hugh Laurie and Peter Capaldi, who are underrated comics both, the pair of eyebrow fiends – Ben Whishaw plays Uriah Heep to slimy perfection.
Oh it is so good and it feels like a warm cup of tea with slightly dodgy homemade cookies.
A Japanese TV series centred around a diner which opens only from midnight to 7 am.
The scarred owner explicitly hints at a mysterious dark past, but that rarely plays a big role. Most of the characters are people society wouldn't consider “respectable”, or who don't fit in.
The food featured is incredibly simple, but not plain. Butter rice, omelettes, ochazuke – all staples of home cooking, all things that one could cook at home. And while it teeters on the edge, it doesn't fall into the trap of sentimentality and cloying sweetness.
Each episode clocks in at 20 minutes – short and sweet for a meal break...