iSlayer: Doctor Who, Series 6

Don't put that face too close to the light, Matt...

Over the past decade the line between kid and adult entertainment has become increasingly blurred. It started with the written word, and everyone’s favourite speccy wandwaver Harry Potter leading the charge from the go-lucky land of the juvenile into the debt and terrorist strewn nightmare of the Real World, followed closely by Coldcock Cullen and the rest of his glittery crew. Movies were quick to hop aboard the trendwagon, not only with live action adaptations but also with CGI movies like Shrek and Monsters Inc, as studios added state of the art graphics and a sex joke to a cartoon and deemed it a multi-layered all-ages extravaganza.

Unsurprisingly, Auntie Beeb wanted a slice of the pie and in 2005 regenerated her most treasured kids show, Doctor Who. And thanks in no small part to a delectable tag team of Russell T Davies and Chris Ecclestone – followed, of course, by Dave Tennant – it was good. It was actually good. Sure, it was sappy and sentimental and used the kids TV aura as an excuse to avoid even the briefest nod to logic or science, but it was good. Then T-Dave and Dave-T tipped their award laden hats and headed for the hills…

Before the announcement of the new Doctor, I was genuinely excited. There was a real opportunity to be bold and daring and rumours were whirling: Benedict Cumberbatch… Paterson Joseph… even, some dared to whisper, a woman.

Instead, we got Matt Smith, a man whose face is entirely moulded from reformed candlewax.

It’s not just his looks (although I do get nervous when he ventures to close to something warm). It’s his style. The move from Ecclestone to Tennant was perfectly pitched, but Smith plays the Doctor like a Friday night parody of his predecessor, literally falling over himself to be quirky and zany and out there. It’s as if someone drained the dramatic ability out of David Tennant, added a dollop of ADHD, then poured it into a badly made plastic voodoo doll. And popped a bow tie on it.

The current series – Stephen Moffat’s second at the helm – starts with a NASA-stained epic set mostly in the US, which means a lot of Americans having who-can-growl-deepest competitions whilst the Doctor battles Predators with haircuts and suits. Truth be told, they look a bit like “The Scream” (if Munch, of course, had painted with reformed pork and road tar). The Silence’s terrible and supernatural power (or, in technical Moffat terminology, their gimmick) is that once you look away you cannot remember them. Surely he’s not saying they’re completely forgettable…

The two part opener is followed up by a traditional piratical affair, garnished with lots of slang ripped from Captain Pugwash and an evil spirit that’s part traffic light (red for stop, green for go!) It also features Rory (almost) dying. Again. What with last season’s “death” and episodes two’s “shooting”, rumour has it that Moffat plans to eventually turn the pathetically wet Rory into the new Kenny from South Park (“Oh my God, you (almost) killed Rory!”) although if he had to be any cartoon character, he’d probably be Dennis the Menace’s arch-nemesis, Walter the Softy (who even has a redheaded girlfriend, Wikipedia informs me).

The best part thus far, however, just has to be Amy Pond’s sudden pregnancy and the tiny and mysterious Time Lord child – did the Daleks poke holes in the Doctor’s sonic condom? Tune in next week to find out!

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