I should have given up watching Dr Who when the wheelie bins ridiculously started eating people or maybe when the Christmas trees attacked?
I definitely should have given it up when people were being absorbed by Adipose fat globules as it was just plain nonsense.
But no, I stuck with it and watched the bewildering series that introduced us to feisty River Song – Dr Who’s previous/future wife depending on the year he’d travelled to – who was also, co-incidentally, the daughter of his sidekick, Amy Pond. Even though Amy bizarrely looked 30 years younger than River. I’d had enough.
Dr Who shouldn’t have confusing back stories and sub-plots where you’re briefly introduced to someone in episode 2, have to remember who they are when they re-appear in episode 6 and find out their importance in episode 12.
Some argue that if kids can remember the background and follow every character in Harry Potter, then understanding Dr Who is easy.
Well, maybe they can but I can’t. It’s too confusing.
When I first started watching Dr Who, plot-lines were simple.
Aliens would attack Earth, normally somewhere near the BBC studios, and at the end of each episode they’d be a capture or a threat of imminent death on The Doctor or his friends.
But in episode 4, Dr Who would blow up his enemies with hand grenades, meaning a third of all calls to the AA in the 70’s were to rescue Daleks from the enormous pot-holes he’d made.
Sometimes he’d use Dynamite, in a time when it was socially acceptable to walk the streets carrying Semtex because MI5 and Counter-Terrorism Units turned a blind eye to such things.
Nowadays, if Doctor Who bought a kitchen knife in Wilkinson’s, she’d be under surveillance.
Also, with new laws covering the safe use of drones, she’d definitely get arrested for flying around erratically in an unlicensed police box with a faulty navigation system.
She’s had that problem for centuries. Why hasn’t she had that fixed yet?
Who knows.
Categories:Television
Russ Writes 
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