Doctor Who – The Almost People

Director: Julian Simpson
Writer: Matthew Graham

So it took two episodes to explain that Gangers are sentient. Continuing on from The Rebel Flesh, The Almost People concludes war between human and Flesh. As the events come to fruition, it somewhat makes up for the shaky, uneven start, but, disregarding the twist at the end, never manages to exceed expectations.

The Flesh has decided it can take no more of it, and are rising against their original forms. Flesh!Jennifer fools Rory into assisting the worker’s downfall. Meanwhile, the Doppel-Doctor faces fear and prejudice from his nervous captors, as they await extraction via rescue chopper.

The Almost People seems like it does not know what it wants to do, and comes off as a not quite committed rip-off of The Thing. In trying to avoid numerous doppelganger tropes, it seems half-baked, failing to fully explore the themes and the concept it presents. At least if it went through the well-worn series of clichés, it might have been more fulfilling, and maybe could have even managed to do it with style or originality. It ventures out slightly in this direction with the double Flesh!Jennifer trick, but this is as far as it goes. Never does it reach the gripping height presented at the end of The Thing, with Kurt Russell staring down Keith David in the oncoming polar climate.

The two-parter suffers from a top-heavy three-act structure. The first part takes too long to set things up. It was obvious they were holding out for the Doppel-Doctor to be revealed as the cliff hanger, but instead it just dragged out the introduction leaving the complication and the climax underdeveloped. The subplot involving sentient eyes fizzles out without a climax or a real impact, managing only to waste precious time. The Almost People needed to launch into action much earlier than it did. As a result, the episode devolves into the Doctor and companions fleeing from a monster through some corridors, the climax almost identical to the Series 3 story The Lazarus Experiment. It simply took too long between Flesh!Jennifer’s flying fist and snake-like head halfway through The Rebel Flesh, and her monstrous mutations at the end of this episode. A much more dynamic and progressive, Akira mutation would have serviced the body horror much more suitably.

There are some nice moments though, such as the part where Rory didn’t die. It’s always surprising when that doesn’t happen. His venture out from behind his wife last episode redeemed him marginally, even if it ended without much emphasis.

Similarly nice is the scene when Flesh!Jimmy overcomes his jealousy after seeing his son, Adam, on his birthday, and betrays Flesh!Jennifer. This was the highlight of the doppelganger moralities being thrown about, which is a shame. The chase through the corridors at the end conveniently disposes of all the remaining duplicates, dodging the more difficult question of who inherits the roll on the outside. Could Cleaves, a woman who has poured her entire life into her job, be able to walk away from it to allow the other version to take her place? Would Jimmy and Flesh!Jimmy coexist or compete for Adam’s affections? Would Adam having two fathers in the future count as political commentary?

This had the potential to become a very interesting morality study, but its inability to choose between SF survival horror and character piece, instead doing both averagely, results in a mildly enjoyable yet run-of-the-mill Doctor Who adventure which can sit with all the other adventures of its kind. The final stunning minutes however more than make up for this. The show has often been referred to as being sexist since it’s recent turnover (although how said haters explain Mr Pond…). Moffat seems to have embraced these claims in his latest scheme, and dived headfirst into one of the biggest defining aspects of womanhood. Just what is Moffat planning for his mid-series finale?  After all these years, River Song’s identity will be finally be revealed. The anticipation is overwhelming.

3½ / 5

Doctor Who - The Rebel Flesh

Director: Matthew Graham
Writer: Julian Simpson

Back in 2006, Matthew Graham was granted a single episode of David Tennant’s first year, Fear Her, in which an alien-inhabited terrified young girl captures the essence of the things she draws, and causes them to come to life, due to the bent up feelings of rejection from her father. It also happened to be one of the worst Doctor Who stories of all time. Time travel forward to 2011 and Graham is at it again, but this time instead of one episode, he’s been gifted two.

The Doctor and companions arrive on an isolated island in the future with a converted monastery acting to pump highly corrosive acid out of the ground and back to the mainland. The skeleton crew that operates the factory use a specifically manufactured flesh which can be programmed to take the shape of anything, in order to birth a surrogate version of themselves to harvest the high risk acid. Referred to as Gangers, these disposable bodies are operated wirelessly through the use of control beds. Whilst scanning the intangible gooey mass of flesh in the spawning pool, the Doctor sticks his hand in, stating ominously that it feels like it is scanning him. Initially posing as an inspector, the Doctor warns of an imminant  solar tsunami which will cause the facility significant damage. The foreman, Miranda Cleaves (Raquel Cassidy), refuses to shut down the operation without corresponding orders from her higher ups. Things go wrong as they usually do when people refuse to obey the Doctor, and the solar flare damages the monastery, spewing forth acid everywhere, and knocking the entire crew unconscious. When they come to they find their Doppelgangers are moving freely, infiltrating the crew and plotting their independence by any means necessary.

The Rebel Flesh is said to have a very Classic Who feeling. Although it’s not entirely awful, Graham declines to truly do anything unique or particularly interesting, and the episode is dismissed as more of a superficial Monster-of-the-Week affair. The chameleonic maliciousness haunting the occupants of the lone building on the isolated island reminds strongly of Horror of Fang Rock, in which an alien disguised as a human hunts the Doctor and the workers in an old lighthouse in the middle of a raging storm. The bio-hazards caused by the exposed and ruptured pipelines recall the eco-friendly message from the Jon Pertwee adventure The Green Death. The creation turning against its creator mimics Frankenstein and an organic I, Robot.

This episode shares many traits with The Hungry Earth, exploring themes of segregation and coping with those who are not necessarily evil, but are merely different from humans. It also feels incredibly similar, in that the entire episode merely buys time until the inevitable cliff-hanger. The obvious foreshadowing of the event means that in the downtime scenes tend to drag on and on, and several shots linger awkwardly as the pieces are manoeuvred into the position the audience has envisioned much earlier. Bar the final moments of the episode, what is presented here, like most part ones, is 100% build-up, and the sequel will be make-or-break, determining if the wait was worth it or not.

Probably the best thing about this episode is the part where Rory did not die. However, one must not get one’s hopes up; there will surely be multiple opportunities for his demise in the concluding 45 minutes. Instead of dying, Rory goes through a much more offensive character development, as he recalls his previous life living as a clone of himself, and empathises with the Rebel Flesh. This is obviously a poorly disguised attempt to redeem his ineptness, and make him seem a valuable part of the team before his predicted upcoming death, but only manages to steal screen time away from the much more deserving Amy. How out of character for Rory to betray his wife, who up until this point he’s followed blindly like a lovesick sheep.

The most disappointing part of the episode comes after an amusing scene involving the death of the Doctor’s well-worn boots, the writers missing the perfect opportunity for the Doctor to save the day in some kind of humorous footwear, similar to the Doctor saving the world in his jimmy-jams in The Christmas Invasion.

Similarly disappointing, the scenes between Doctor and companions lack a punch line, with characters rambling on without anything to say until it cuts to the next shot.

The climax brings new speculation as to the true identity of the future Doctor who was last seen when the Impossible Astronaut shot him dead at the beginning of the series, but all theories so far prove unsatisfying, and based too much on chance rather than a single thread holding all stories together. Hopefully everything comes together next week, and Moffatt hasn’t just wasted two of the precious little episodes. 


It’s interesting how this series they negate the usual balance of multi-episode stories, with the third two-parter airing in a couple of weeks’ time, getting them over and done with by the middle of the series. This means that for the first time the finale will consist of a string of consecutive stand-alone episodes. Will there be enough time? Only time will tell.

2 ½ / 5

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011)

Director: Rob Marshall
Writers: Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott

There comes a time when a character has run out his/her/it’s/undecided journey, and any further character developments have been exhausted. When the character has become so well defined, the writers simply don’t know what to do with them. This is the reason why whenever Morgan Freeman appears in a film, he is destined / cursed to narrate it. Any further developments can often lead to parody. Captain Jack Sparrow is one of the most well-recognised icons of latter times. Pirates of the Caribbean – On Stranger Tides for this very reason lacks any conflict. With three films under his many belts, any further exploitations of the Captain just lack relevance. Captain Jack is at it again. By his very ambivalent nature the film lacks conflict. Nothing really phases the reluctant anti-hero. He’s there, but he wants to be elsewhere. People are yelling at him to do things, but he will always do something completely different. There is so little that matters to him that, as far as his character goes, the climax of the tension occurs in the first ten minutes, in which Captain Jack is denied his profiterole. Manacled to a chair, with it just out of his reach... The pinnacle of the film results down to Jack wanting a creamy treat, Jack being denied a creamy treat, Jack getting his creamy treat, and Jack eating his creamy treat. That’s the three-act structure done already, we can all go home now.

2 ½ / 5

Wall Street - Money Never Sleeps (2010)

Director: Oliver Stone
Writers: Bryan Burrough, Allan Loeb and Stephen Schiff

The original Wall Street came out in 1987 to much critical acclaim and popularity, and, ironically, a hefty box office taking. Its original characters inspired a generation to become stockbrokers, whilst warding the then current generation to rethink their plans for corporate espionage. Twenty-three years later, a sequel is produced.

A reformed Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) is released from prison after serving his sentence for playing the stock market. He attempts to reconcile with his daughter Winnie (the charming as ever Carrie Mulligan) by gaining the trust of her new fiancé, an aspiring young stockbroker Jake (Shia LaBeouf). In exchange, Gekko helps Jake seek revenge on the man responsible for his mentor’s death.

Like the first film, Wall Street – Money Never Sleep is jargon-heavy. Perhaps the film would be easier to understand if one had a greater knowledge of the American Financial System. As such, the fast-flowing terminology spewed about becomes increasingly difficult to comprehend. The significance and repercussions of the actions are therefore lessened, leaving only the basic impression of who is good and who is bad, and who has cut whose throat.

One wonders how much of the film is true. Although based on reality and the Global Financial Crisis, a lot of fiction is obviously interwoven throughout. How many of the people and companies are “real”? Does knowing the answer to that question lessen the impact of the events surrounding that person or company, due to a previous foresight?

Those who remember the original Wall Street would remember Gordon Gekko and his cunning, cutthroat deceptions, and devious plots. Portrayed expertly by Michael Douglas, his husky voice might seem innocent, but it somehow exudes ulterior motives. His love of greed is second to none, he only looks out for himself, and everyone else can burn before he does, which is why it’s strange seeing him so submissive, signing books and doing group speeches. Long gone are his cunning schemes, as he makes claims of having reformed in prison. Why is that? He is undoubtedly the only reason the audience would pay money to see the film, yet it spends more than half the time focussing on characters other than Gordon Gekko. Gekko comes into his element in the last turn of the film, and this twist is a joy to watch, but it comes too late. One wonders what his plans would have been about getting to the top if his daughter hadn’t fallen in love with another Wall Street player, presenting him such a unique opportunity.

Shia LaBeouf’s character Jake represents the next generation’s Gordon Gekko. A prodigy, he has climbed his way up through the ranks of a powerful company to a position of power, until it is all taken away from him after the death of his mentor, replaced with his greed for revenge. But how much does he learn? At the end of the film he might have received a happy ending, but his morals remain the same and he has not been awakened by any epiphanies. His actions at the end would have been almost exactly the same as his actions in the beginning. He’ll just start all over again, much like Gekko. Jake’s journey is satisfying, but when his screen time is compared to the much more capable anti-hero Gekko, it feels a wasted opportunity.

The film experiments with all kinds of editing tricks, attempting split screens, shots within shots, and some more obscure techniques which only leaves the question of what were they thinking? These brief sequences seem random and sloppy, and only occur intermittently throughout the film, failing to form any cohesive style. A much better example is in 128 Hours, where the editing style is irreplaceable, complementary to the mood. One especially bizarre shot in which Jake is referred to as being a “fighter”, results in a transparent apparition of his deceased mentor fading into the empty space adjacent. This incredibly unsubtle link encroaches on parody. Similarly, a poorly animated virtual city covered with screens connected to television feeds represents the flow of data and information, but more resembles the technophobic 90’s imaginings of the interior of a computer, familiarised in children’s television series such as Reboot.

The main problem with Wall Street – Money Never Sleeps is that it itself is hypocritically greedy. When presented with two different plots – a cutthroat financial scam and a family drama – the film chooses both, creating something not quite as good as either. When the next dog-eat-dog political scandal breaks, the family’s incessant bickering gets in the way, and when the reuniting of a tragic romance seems imminent, the quick-shooting technical jargon becomes a hindrance. The film is simply trying to cater for too many audiences, which it adequately achieves, but the pacing is broken. The titular Money might have insomnia, but you’ll certainly nod off a few times.

3 / 5

Doctor Who - The Doctor's Wife

Director: Richard Clark
Writer: Neil Gaiman

The TARDIS is one of the most recognisable symbols from science fiction. Ever since Doctor Who’s beginnings in 1963, Police boxes in the UK have become associated with time travel opposed to law enforcement. In fact, the Doctor has stated on multiple occasions that the TARDIS is alive.  In The Doctor’s Wife, the TARDIS very much is alive.

Led by a glowing cube carrying a distress call sent by Time Lords, the Doctor and the gang follow the source through a rift leading to an asteroid floating outside the universe. The rock is inhabited by a strange menagerie: Uncle, Aunty, a green-eyed Ood named Nephew, and Idris (Suranne Jones), an eccentric and sporadic girl who fawns all over the Doctor. After Idris is locked away for disturbing the nice man, the Doctor soon learns that the asteroid is a sentient entity named THE HOUSE, and the family are under its possession. THE HOUSE baits Time Lords in order to feed on the energy of their TARDIS’s. Upon learning that the Doctor is the last of the Time Lords, THE HOUSE kidnaps the Doctor’s TARDIS along with Amy and Rory and attempts to use its powers to break through into the universe proper, leaving the Doctor with Idris, imbued with the soul of his TARDIS, stranded in a TARDIS graveyard.

This stand-alone affair work to redeem the series after the disappointing performance of the previous episode, showing that the Doctor can still have a good time even when it’s not heavily plot-developing. Neil Gaiman hits all the right notes with his expert script, and one could expect no less from such a seasoned and acclaimed writer. He takes a simple idea at the very heart of Doctor Who and does something that has never been done before. He gives the TARDIS a face and a mouth to yell at the Doctor to resolve all the tensions that have been building up since he stole her all those years ago (or did she steal him?). The titular character (never referred to as such in the script) and the Doctor bicker like an old married couple, reminding the audience that there’s only enough room for one woman in the Doctor’s life.

Therefore it is a shame that the production values couldn’t be of such a high standard as the story. In numerous interviews Neil Gaiman has complained about a lack of funding for his story as well as all the sacrifices he’s made removing the more complicated set-ups in his script (including a scene in the now-infamous swimming pool). In a few scenes, it really shows. The TARDIS corridors in particular look very cheaply constructed. Maybe this is another of the many references back to Classic Who, and they’re acknowledging the fact that the sets were made of cardboard and a “never-ending” corridor was simply the same few meters filmed again and again at different angles.

Similarly, some of the visual effects are very poor this week. In a few shots the whirring energies of the open TARDIS control panel look like the quality of a 90’s children’s animated television program, and the green screen work appears equally as bad when compared to the last episode where the floating ethereal siren was probably the pinnacle of the episode.

This episode seems to be a leftover story from the years of Russell T Davies. Doubtless when commissioned, this era is where Gaiman started his research. The inclusion of an Ood and an omnipotent possessive entity is a throwback to The Impossible Planet / The Satan Pit. The survival horror sequences in the TARDIS corridors are reminiscent of 42 and The End of the World, the trapped in space scenario having become a staple since the program’s rebirth. The aqua desktop even makes an appearance again, however a more obscure TARDIS console like the mahogany version from The Hand of Fear would have provided a much better piece of fanservice.

It is interesting guessing the working dynamic between Stephen Moffatt and Neil Gaiman. At times it seems there are scenes forcefully inserted, abruptly reminding us of the overall story arc of the series. It’s obtrusive, breaking up the natural flow. The audience hasn’t forgotten that the Doctor is going to die. The Crazy Eye Patch Lady almost wasn’t in the episode, appearing momentarily in the “Next Time” preview.

Again it seems like blinding Amy and offing Rory are on Moffatt’s agenda. This time it’s forgivable, as the circumstances under which they receive such ailments are expertly written and so much more original than the previous instalment, but it still brings up the question of whether or not the audience will care when Rory really dies. Every time Rory is killed it lessens the impact for when he actually stays dead.

It was a smart move to take a break this week from the hypercharged plot development of the opening two-parter and the substandard The Curse of the Black Spot, presenting an original and stand-alone story to remind the audience of the magic and diversity of Doctor Who, while simultaneously leaving them hungry for their next bit of tasty adventure. Last week, the production quality was high yet the quality of the story was low, and this week it’s inversed. Hopefully this week’s drop in production value is only an anomaly and, assuming they didn’t blow their entire budget on America, next week is up to the high standard set prior. There’s only three more weeks before the inevitably torturous cliffhanger, and every story counts if we’re going to have to make do with them for another six months…

4 / 5

Burke and Hare (2010)

Director: John Landis
Writers: Piers Ashworth and Nick Moorcroft

When Simon Pegg gets together with John Landis, the legendary Director of classic films such as An American Werewolf in London and The Blues Brothers, surely this makes for a recipe which cannot fail, which is why Burke and Hare comes as such a shock. Where are the comedic set pieces? Where are the unexpected twists and turns? Where is the wit? Burke and Hare promises such things, but delivers merely stock slapstick and jokes about the emptying of the privy bucket. How did this happen? How could this happen? John Landis is a seasoned Director, and Simon Pegg an accomplished scriptwriter. As the audience’s initial smiles lessen, fading to looks of confusion, and eventually devolving into looks in directions other than the screen, procrastinating in order to endure this tedious ninety minutes, they wonder how it could all go so wrong.

19^th Century, Edinburgh: the centre of Science and Medical Research. Two rival surgeons Doctor Monro (Tim Curry) and Doctor Knox (Tom Wilkinson) compete for the King’s prize for the greatest advancement in medical science. Burke and Hare chronicles the notorious serial killings committed by its titular conmen, Simon Pegg and Andy Serkis, who trade fresh cadavers for coin. During their exploits, Burke is seduced by a young aspiring actress Ginny Hawkins (Isla Fisher), and deceived into financing her all-female production of the Scottish Play.

Burke and Hare has too much fat. There are too many unnecessary points, resulting in a convoluted story structure, with great chunks a chore to sit through. Bookended by a narrator who gives a summary of the entire film, followed by a long sequence of exposition, the main characters are introduced a third of the way through the film. This might lead one to believe the film is building to something complex, but alas, when the characters themselves come with no backstory, and are portrayed so cartoony, and scenes begin to drag on interminably before fizzling out minus a punchline, the truth is revealed. Particularly when the clichéd love interest subplot fails to satisfy, falling flat, and adding nothing to the greater story, it becomes even more laboured to withstand.

Simon Pegg is a naturally funny man, but not even he can save the film from mediocrity. The funeral parlour tries so hard to be quirky and macabre, and there are a few chuckles to be had here and there, but nothing particularly clever, or even memorable. The black comedy has already been done before, and better, and once that well has run dry, the script resorts to senseless slapstick and runaway barrels filled with corpses.

Multiple high-calibre actors grace the film with their presence, including Bill Bailey, Christopher Lee and Steven Merchant. However, apart from Ronnie Corbett’s mildly amusing pompous, bumbling Captain McLintoch, they are given so few interesting things to do that their talents are wasted and their appearances achieve little but provide a naming game to preoccupy the audience before they can leave.

The film could have been much more enjoyable in a more streamlined cut, skimming the useless subplots and condensing the actual story, although in that circumstance it would be severely lacking in the running time. Unfortunately what we are presented with here is a tortuous mishmash of underdeveloped and unoriginal plot points, strung together with some placeholders for comedy, much less than the sum of its parts. It’s finally been released in Australia, a year after its run in the States, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Maybe this corpse is best left buried. You won’t die laughing.

2 / 5

Doctor Who - The Curse of the Black Spot

Director: Jeremy Webb
Writer: Stephen Thompson

There are always those few episodes in each Series of Doctor Who which act as filler, prolonging the time it takes for the overarching plot to get from Point A to Point B. Usually these episodes are good, harmless fun, building on character or atmosphere, or just telling a cracking story from a different perspective. Sometimes they are awful, being too absurd or cliché, or are completely overwhelmed by the surrounding dramatic episodes. The Curse of the Black Spot sits somewhere in the middle. It is a story constructed from other stories. It has its moments, but fails to offer anything that we haven’t already seen (often multiple times).

In an interlude to saving the universe, The Doctor and companions take to the high seas, under the flag of the Jolly Rodger, in a slightly different take on the Black Spot. The crew of a 17^th Century Pirate Ship find themselves stranded in the middle of a windless ocean. A simple cut or a bruise reveals a Black Spot upon their hand, and it is only a matter of time before they come face to face with The Siren (Lily Cole), a beautiful glowing entity whose hypnotising melodies leave the victim defenceless towards her malicious intentions. The Captain Henry Avery (Hugh Bonneville) tries to keep his dwindling crewmembers from panic and chaos, as they are picked off one by one. Enter the Doctor and companions, to solve the mystery with reason, logic, and a bit of hearty swashbuckling.

This story proves that Moffat is still recycling his previous stories, combining plot elements of The Girl in the Fireplace with The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances, to create an adventure not nearly as good as either. The fact that he delegated the writing of this story to someone else entirely makes the ideas appear even more jaded. It’s still a fun adventure, but feels altogether disposable when the first and second acts of the episode are made redundant by the third. If they had all “died” in the beginning of the episode, there would have been absolutely no difference in the outcome. The exhausted scenario of the climax only succeeds to frustrate further as the creators refuse to make up their minds whether Rory should be alive or dead. It severely degrades the emotional impact every time Rory dies, to the point where it just becomes a joke. “Doctor! Rory’s dead again!” “Oh that Rory!” *doo-doo doo doo-doo doo*

And The Doctor still can’t resist his name-dropping, throwing names of famous historical figures about with a complete lack of subtlety. When you have a weak story, carelessly flirting with stories that are potentially better than yours does not turn the audience in your favour.

The episode does have its highlights, however. The brief sequences of action and classic pirate-ship antics are reminiscent of Patrick Troughton’s reign. Amy channels a meaner, saucier Jamie as the redhead wench equips a cutlass and shows how much she’s learnt during her stay with The Doctor.

It seems a shame that when Murray Gold finally seems to have done some work, with a new Pirates of the Caribbean-inspired score, the rest of the team lets him down with such an underwhelming episode. Still, there is some hope on the horizon. Next week’s episode will look absolutely brilliant in comparison, even before taking into account the fact it’s written by Neil Gaiman. The only question is how will Rory die next time?

2 ½ / 5

Source Code (2011)

Director: Duncan Jones

Writer: Ben Ripley

SF is a dying genre. As modern day Science Fiction films consist mostly of blowing things up, the hard stuff gets swept under the wave of mediocrity. Source Code does something quite clever. It is a SF film masquerading as an action thriller. It is a film that ties together the explosions with a string of high concept ideas and themes. The second feature film from David Bowie’s son, Duncan Jones, Source Code is the big budget, blockbuster big brother to the low budget independent masterpiece Moon.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Captain Colter Stevens, a military man serving in Afghanistan. This is why he finds it strange when he awakens on board a train heading towards Chicago, in mid-conversation with a woman he’s never met, Christina Warren (Michelle Monaghan). He rejects her familiar banter, leaving to seek answers. He finds it stranger that when he looks into the mirror, another man’s face looks back. At the crescendo of his panic, he stumbles out of the bathroom, only to be engulfed by the sudden fires of a massive explosion, emanating from an undisclosed source onboard the train, and spreading to another train passing in the opposite direction.

Colter Stevens wakes up with a start, this time strapped into a mysterious machine, and being asked a string of questions by a military woman Colleen Goodwin. Despite Colter’s objections, it is slowly revealed that he is an agent, inside a program devised from the recorded data of a brains last eight minutes, sent to uncover the identity of a terrorist whose bomb planted on the train killed everyone onboard, and is threatening to unleash more devastation upon the city. So Jake Gyllenhaal is subjected to reliving the last eight minutes before the explosion Groundhog Day style. Each time he learns more and more about the events and the people, even forming a connection with Christina after experiencing the tragedy of her recurring death. This repetition of sequences provides comfort for the audience. They can foresee the exact outcome each time, yet every viewing brings a new experience. The ratio between risk and reward is carefully balanced throughout.

Source Code is a film that works “just because”. Don’t think about the science behind it. The film doesn’t want you to. In fact, the film doesn’t give you a chance to. The undoubtedly genius Doctor Rutledge begins to explain, but is quickly cut off as the film races off again, faster than the train it is based on.

The film really does seem like the bigger, blockbuster version of 2009’s Moon, this time trading the science fiction setting of the titular location with a more accessible and identifiable location and incident. Both feature a likeable, multi-levelled protagonist, trapped within his circumstances – a self-contained prison. His rebellion against the exterior forces attempting to dominate him becomes futile, as there is seemingly no favourable solution in sight. Through his insurgence, he slowly discovers that everything is not as it seems, and his entire raison d’être is thrown into chaos. The lead characters manage to capture the humanity within the technological confines, ensnaring an emotional connection, carrying us on a journey that inevitably ends with the character in someplace completely different, changed to the very core.

The final twist however only manages to leave a bitter aftertaste. Throwing a few more spanners into the science generator, the finale pretends to defy logic and reason, but is taken a few steps too far. The film definitely would have benefited from a more direct and ambiguous ending.

Filled with enough edge-of-your-seat action to keep your blood pumping, yet retaining the much needed soul, the film manages to inject the SF genre with a fresh dose of life, sowing the seeds for future incarnations. With his second film under his belt, Source Code confirms Duncan Jones as an intelligent and talented Director.

4 / 5

Doctor Who - Day of the Moon

Director: Toby Haynes

Writer: Steven Moffat

After last episode’s stunning cliff-hanger, Doctor Who pulls another Last of the Time Lords, skipping forward several months. The companions are fugitives, on the run from Delaware and his FBI cronies, being shot dead one by one. Things seem grim until the body bags burst open, revealing the hoax that the FBI agent pulled on the bureau, just like The Television Movie. It is their cunning resourcefulness that leads them to save a very bearded Doctor from the confines of his prison in Area 51. This leads to all sorts of continuity issues. Has the Doctor always needed to shave? Has he been popping off-screen every few episodes to have a quick trim? Is it just 11 that needs to shave every day? The Doctor does not seem the type to shave. It is an impressive amount of scruff… From here we follow the Doctor’s cunning plan to defeat the Silence and save mankind using Neil Armstrong’s foot.

Similar to last episode, Moffat thrusts the show towards the darkness, with some of the most frightening Doctor Who scenes ever. The next logical step from Moffat’s Weeping Angels and the final montage sequence of Blink, The Silence work on the same basic principle. This suggestion that The Silence could potentially exist within our own reality and we’re simply forgetting them when we look away breaks the forth wall, with the intention to make us no longer feel safe with the thin glass separating us from the monsters. Half the children in Britain surely resorted to carrying a marker around with them for days after this episode aired, ready to mark their own bodies in case of a sighting. In one particular scene, The Silence are compared to the terrifying xenomorphs from Aliens. The real question though is: What is with the suits? Nothing like a finely dressed homicidal alien occupation – clearly a reference to Octodad.

The resolution to this battle is simultaneously brilliant and confusing. The Doctor’s lyrical checkmate is indeed cunning, yet it seems entirely out of character for him, a Time Lord who abhors violence and bloodshed. Sure, The Silence are evil, but compared to the Daleks and Cybermen, they’re hardly deserving of a Time Lord’s wrath. He offers them an ultimatum, but takes the literal silence as defiance and stubbornness, and launches an eternal assault on their species, slaying countless of them. 11 seems to have a mad temper, like 5 and 6 had all those years ago. As usual, he makes his companions do the dirty work for him, River Song showing how bad-ass she can be in her middle-age.

The River Song arc is progressing towards a conclusion nicely as well, with an intimate time together presenting the tragedy of meeting in reverse. When will be their next smoochy smoochy time, and will be, will be their last? There’ll come a time when the Doctor will need to take the initiative, and steal her first kiss, but if they hadn’t already kissed, would the Doctor ever be able to draw up the courage? We’re in for some awkward moments if his advice towards the ladies in A Christmas Carol is anything to go by…

Although this episode finally presents us with some closure as to the unexplained TARDIS-like space craft first glimpsed in The Lodger, it manages to raise a dozen more questions. Moffat must delight in making us guess, and will inevitably toy with the obvious solution to these questions, leading us on a wild goose chase through crackpot theories.

Despite a few flaws, like Doctor Renfrew’s slipping accent, Day of the Moon is pure Doctor Who excitement, more than making up for the misgivings and recycling of ideas in the previous episode. Not only is the overall story more impressive, but the production values of late are well up from Russell T Davies’ run, with the cinematography and lighting particularly impressive. It only looks like it will get better from this point on, with the profitability of the program finally being pumped back into it. It’s Pirates next weekend, with Amy fitting right in as a swashbuckler. Bring it on!


4½ / 5

Wandering Son (2011)

Hōrō Musuko

Director: Ei Aoki
Series Composition: Mari Okada

Most of the time when transsexualism is portrayed in film and television it is done so for laughs at the expense of crossdresser, labelling those involved as perverted. Few series dare to tackle the issues involved for those wanting to be the opposite gender fairly. Wandering Son is one of these, portraying transsexuality, gender identity and puberty in a mature and incredibly realistic way.

The plot involves a young boy, Nitori Shuichi, who wants to be a girl, and a young girl, Takatsuki Yoshino, a girl who wants to be a boy. Their reasons are deep-seeded and complex, and entirely innocent. They attend school with their classmates, and through various encounters and experiences, slowly gather the courage to dress the way they want and do the things they want to do, regardless of the criticism from their classmates, teachers and parents.

The decision to dive right into the middle of the manga, means that the entire story can be concluded in the eleven episodes of the Noitanima slot it resides in. This way it can retain its slow pacing, accomplishing a lot of character development in each episode while never feeling rushed. This decision also provides a rich back-story to the characters that is hinted at throughout. The audience is given enough information to deduce their life-forming events, while also making it seem like there is much more to these characters than is apparent. It wasn’t one single incident that made these characters the way they are.

The character’s progression throughout the series begins subtly. They achieve small triumphs by wearing clothes of the opposite gender in secret. Revealing their desires to their friends results in encouragement, providing them the confidence to wear the respective clothes outside. As they are pre-pubescent with no major gender-specific developments, there is no notice of perversion. Other incidents such as a tomboy wearing a boy’s uniform to school and a gender bender school play boost their desire. Still, they are constrained by the fear of publicly announcing their desires to their classmates. Their denial of something they desire so badly lends the show a stifling depression, yet the bittersweet moments when they achieve their small triumphs brings the show back from utter sadness. The final conclusion of each character’s journey parallels the end of an era, as they progress from one stage of life to another, finding closure and a melancholic feeling of nostalgia.

The simple love triangle at the beginning of the show develops to be quite unpredictable, straying away from the usual “will they? won’t they?” indecisiveness of the romance genre, and matching up characters with unsuspected others. Relationships begin and end, and compromises are struck, with consequences affecting everyone involved. The cast grows to be quite large by the end of the series, yet all the side characters are equally as developed as the main characters, and still entirely relevant to the plot.

The subtle, laid-back animation style sets the focus on the characters and the story. The beautifully simplistic background frames allow for a greater study on the expression of the characters themselves, and the character designs denote youth and innocence, even if they do all have impeccably shiny hair.

It is clear now that Mari Okada abandoned Gosick and Fractale to mediocrity, spending her talents on this masterpiece. With its mature writing and bravery tackling complex issues, Wandering Son stands well apart from most other anime.

4½ / 5