(no subject)
Last night I dreamt that Gordon Brown came round and we ate marshmallows. I mention this just to reassure you that there is serious political content in my subconscious. It's not all fangirling you know.
With the exception of Octavian's death (easily the moment of the episode) I found the angels a bit redundant in Flesh and Stone. But I liked many things, this especially:
"I'll be back for you as soon as I can, I promise."
"You always say that."
"I always come back."
I loved that amidst the mounting tension they could play out a moment of tenderness, and play it long enough to pull back into it. I was so sure the scene was done that for an instant I didn't know whose hands they were, and they are not easy hands to disguise.
My TV guide kind of gave the ending away, which distracted me a little. "Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't? Hurts, doesn't it? But kind of a good hurt." In all honesty, I had been wondering for some time how the two of them had been managing to keep their hands off each other. All that proximity, after living all that time on a memory and a promise. And I loved the way it was played. I'd never really thought before about how well braces lend themselves to such scenes.
(Incidentally, I like to think that Amy made the Doctor wait in the TARDIS while she hurriedly cleared away all her raggedy Doctor memorabilia. A wedding-night fling with your bridal gown hanging over you is one thing, but surrounded by all the evidence of borderline stalkery another entirely.)
My Vampires of Venice viewing experience starts with a confession: I found myself inadvertently singing along to those rogue chords at the beginning. I am so easily seduced.
Talking of which, if I'd had any last reservations about Eleven they would not have withstood this:
"I like the bit where someone says it's bigger on the inside. I always look forward to that."
You should not be able to infuse petulance with quite so much danger. There are lots of things you should not be able to do, like look nine and be so convincingly nine hundred. He is always the oldest person in the room, wearing that scene with Rosanna and the throne with unyielding grace.
Matt Smith in this interview describes the Doctor as "completely, unconsciously himself, without any compromise," which sums it up exactly.
Never mind the shoulders, it was the way the script hung on him this episode that had me absorbed. I was enjoying it enormously until, "No, I kissed her mouth," at which point I subsided into paroxysms of delight and really have no idea what happened in the rest of the episode. It all seemed to go a bit Idiots Lantern at one point.
Mr JLB Matekoni and Gilbert the Eighties Ghost were already on my Scene-Stealing Supporting Cast list, so it was a treat to see them again here. And Rory! The BBC website tells me that he entered the medical profession after spending his childhood being made to dress up as the Doctor, which is so wrong on so many levels, and makes it very hard not to love him. That, and the fact that he had clearly invited all the locals from the village pub to his stag do.
Three in the TARDIS always feels like a crowd (in some ways, it's smaller on the inside) but I like the Eleven/Rory chemistry already.
"We are not her boys."
"Yeah, we are."
"Yeah, we are."
I've never seen much of the Confidentials before, but I am starting to find them unmissable. I think I heart Karen and Matt scenes almost as much as I do Eleven/Amy ones. And I can't get over how gorgeous Karen is in the yellow jumper. Yellow is so hard to carry off, but room-stopping when done well. (Michelle Williams at the Oscars. Frieda Pinto in Slumdog in that yellow scarf. Belle in Beauty and the Beast. Kate Hudson in How to lose a guy in 10 days.)
Also, I feel that Rory should stay on board the TARDIS for as long as it takes for Arthur Darvill to showcase his entire knitwear collection. Really.
I do have a Confidentials fashion request though: please could somebody persuade Stephen Moffat to change that black t-shirt? It's doing nothing for him. Nothing! And we're onto episode six already.
I have almost nothing to say about Ashes to Ashes, because it has pretty much taken my every coherent thought and downed it like a line of shots. I watched the most recent episode from underneath a duvet that I had practically eaten by the end. It's revved up so hard these last few episodes that we are geared not, I think, for drifting off into the sunset, but for a head-on collision with the horizon.
The trail of clues leading us to its chapter of revelation has been laid pretty thick. I don't think I've remotely steeled myself to it ending, let alone the grand rug-pulling. Life on Mars ended with all of possibility intact, but there is such a clang of finality about this. I alternate between excited and terrified. There are many things I've loved about Ashes to Ashes, but none more than its central cast; if the universe unravels all I ask is that it does so without compromising its characters.
I've especially loved Ray and Shaz this series. Their duet in the fifth episode was extraordinary: I don't think I've ever been quite so unnerved by a key change. At least, in a good way. ;)
No episode is complete for me without its team Gene/Alex moment. "I'm him, and you? Are her." It's not exactly "You had me at hello," but I enjoyed it.
One word in the Radio Times preview for this week's episode made me forget to breathe for a moment, even though it could have meant just about anything. It could still have meant just about anything after the trailer ran at the end of last week's episode. Enter: second trailer.
Sometimes you don't realise quite how much you want something until it's dangled in front of your face. I don't doubt for a minute that it will be snatched away again, but right now I could retire on the anticipation alone. I am making the most of possibility while it is still mine to play with. :)
A month or so back we found a wood about half an hour's walk from my house, carpeted in green shoots that led us to go back last weekend, for this reason:
With the exception of Octavian's death (easily the moment of the episode) I found the angels a bit redundant in Flesh and Stone. But I liked many things, this especially:
"I'll be back for you as soon as I can, I promise."
"You always say that."
"I always come back."
I loved that amidst the mounting tension they could play out a moment of tenderness, and play it long enough to pull back into it. I was so sure the scene was done that for an instant I didn't know whose hands they were, and they are not easy hands to disguise.
My TV guide kind of gave the ending away, which distracted me a little. "Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't? Hurts, doesn't it? But kind of a good hurt." In all honesty, I had been wondering for some time how the two of them had been managing to keep their hands off each other. All that proximity, after living all that time on a memory and a promise. And I loved the way it was played. I'd never really thought before about how well braces lend themselves to such scenes.
(Incidentally, I like to think that Amy made the Doctor wait in the TARDIS while she hurriedly cleared away all her raggedy Doctor memorabilia. A wedding-night fling with your bridal gown hanging over you is one thing, but surrounded by all the evidence of borderline stalkery another entirely.)
My Vampires of Venice viewing experience starts with a confession: I found myself inadvertently singing along to those rogue chords at the beginning. I am so easily seduced.
Talking of which, if I'd had any last reservations about Eleven they would not have withstood this:
"I like the bit where someone says it's bigger on the inside. I always look forward to that."
You should not be able to infuse petulance with quite so much danger. There are lots of things you should not be able to do, like look nine and be so convincingly nine hundred. He is always the oldest person in the room, wearing that scene with Rosanna and the throne with unyielding grace.
Matt Smith in this interview describes the Doctor as "completely, unconsciously himself, without any compromise," which sums it up exactly.
Never mind the shoulders, it was the way the script hung on him this episode that had me absorbed. I was enjoying it enormously until, "No, I kissed her mouth," at which point I subsided into paroxysms of delight and really have no idea what happened in the rest of the episode. It all seemed to go a bit Idiots Lantern at one point.
Mr JLB Matekoni and Gilbert the Eighties Ghost were already on my Scene-Stealing Supporting Cast list, so it was a treat to see them again here. And Rory! The BBC website tells me that he entered the medical profession after spending his childhood being made to dress up as the Doctor, which is so wrong on so many levels, and makes it very hard not to love him. That, and the fact that he had clearly invited all the locals from the village pub to his stag do.
Three in the TARDIS always feels like a crowd (in some ways, it's smaller on the inside) but I like the Eleven/Rory chemistry already.
"We are not her boys."
"Yeah, we are."
"Yeah, we are."
I've never seen much of the Confidentials before, but I am starting to find them unmissable. I think I heart Karen and Matt scenes almost as much as I do Eleven/Amy ones. And I can't get over how gorgeous Karen is in the yellow jumper. Yellow is so hard to carry off, but room-stopping when done well. (Michelle Williams at the Oscars. Frieda Pinto in Slumdog in that yellow scarf. Belle in Beauty and the Beast. Kate Hudson in How to lose a guy in 10 days.)
Also, I feel that Rory should stay on board the TARDIS for as long as it takes for Arthur Darvill to showcase his entire knitwear collection. Really.
I do have a Confidentials fashion request though: please could somebody persuade Stephen Moffat to change that black t-shirt? It's doing nothing for him. Nothing! And we're onto episode six already.
I have almost nothing to say about Ashes to Ashes, because it has pretty much taken my every coherent thought and downed it like a line of shots. I watched the most recent episode from underneath a duvet that I had practically eaten by the end. It's revved up so hard these last few episodes that we are geared not, I think, for drifting off into the sunset, but for a head-on collision with the horizon.
The trail of clues leading us to its chapter of revelation has been laid pretty thick. I don't think I've remotely steeled myself to it ending, let alone the grand rug-pulling. Life on Mars ended with all of possibility intact, but there is such a clang of finality about this. I alternate between excited and terrified. There are many things I've loved about Ashes to Ashes, but none more than its central cast; if the universe unravels all I ask is that it does so without compromising its characters.
I've especially loved Ray and Shaz this series. Their duet in the fifth episode was extraordinary: I don't think I've ever been quite so unnerved by a key change. At least, in a good way. ;)
No episode is complete for me without its team Gene/Alex moment. "I'm him, and you? Are her." It's not exactly "You had me at hello," but I enjoyed it.
One word in the Radio Times preview for this week's episode made me forget to breathe for a moment, even though it could have meant just about anything. It could still have meant just about anything after the trailer ran at the end of last week's episode. Enter: second trailer.
Sometimes you don't realise quite how much you want something until it's dangled in front of your face. I don't doubt for a minute that it will be snatched away again, but right now I could retire on the anticipation alone. I am making the most of possibility while it is still mine to play with. :)
A month or so back we found a wood about half an hour's walk from my house, carpeted in green shoots that led us to go back last weekend, for this reason: