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DOCTOR
WHO
Today,
BBC1, 7:20pm
DALLAS
Wednesday,
Five, 9pm
MRS
BIGGS
Wednesday,
STV, 9pm
Paul
Whitelaw
TV's
annual summer drought finally comes to an end with the return of two
beloved hardy perennials, most notable of which is DOCTOR
WHO.
Now in its seventh series since its revival, it shows no sign of
flagging under the auspices of ingenious show-runner Steven Moffat
and – mark my considered words – one of the best actors to ever
fill the Doctor's boots, Matt Smith.
If,
like me, you felt the last series was bogged down somewhat by the
convoluted Amy/Rory/River Song arc, then you'll be pleased to note
that we've been promised a new series of self-contained
“blockbusters”, presumably epitomised by Moffat's tremendous
kick-starter, Asylum
of the Daleks,
in which the titular war-tanks come across as more unnerving and
menacing than at any time since Rob Shearman's celebrated Dalek
in 2005.
You'll
doubtless have read that this adventure features more physical Dalek
models – including several from Doctor
Who's
entire half-century existence – than ever before, making it
something of a dark celebration of their iconic status. But that
doesn't obscure a cracking yarn in which the Doctor, Amy and Rory are
unwillingly press-ganged by their arch nemesis into “saving” a
danger-strewn planet of insane Skarosians.
Full
of sepulchral, claustrophobic corridors straight out of a classic
'60s/'70s episode, it's an atmospheric setting swathed in rust, dust
and cobwebs: Indiana
Jones and the Temple of Whom.
The compact storyline also throws up a couple of genuine shocks that I
can't reveal for obvious reasons, but suffice to say they provide
intriguing implications for the future of the series.
Scattering
fine-tuned moments of wit and poignancy throughout – as well as a
surreal detour resembling The
Shining
by way of Sapphire
& Steele
– it is, in typical Doctor
Who
style, a gripping, twisty horror romp fit for all the family.
Visually, it's as impressive as usual, feeling richer and more
cinematic than anything else on British TV. My only complaint is that
– after redeeming herself last year – Karen Gillan as Amy is back
to her semi-dislikeable, irritating ways, although that's thankfully
offset by the charm and comic timing of the peerless Smith and Arthur
Darvill as Rory. I'll miss the latter when he leaves along with
Gillan later this year.
Fun
of a somewhat different hue is triggered by the return of DALLAS,
the glossy mega-soap which, save for a couple of late-'90s TV movies,
hasn't graced our screens since the original series ended in 1991.
Like Doctor
Who
before it, the writers have wisely foregone a reboot in favour of a
continuation of the established saga of the Ewing clan, albeit with a
new generation pushed to the fore.
And
whaddya know, J.R's son John Ross has grown up to be as much of a
smirking, Machiavellian reptile as his father, with sibling rival
Christopher proving as benign as his adoptive dad, Bobby. So expect
more Cane and Abel histrionics which threaten to TEAR THE FAMILY
APART, while the old guard – represented by the likes of Larry
Hagman and the astonishingly ageless Patrick Duffy – pull the
strings and fret on the sidelines.
Cleverly,
it manages to harness everything we loved about Dallas
in the first place – that campy bombast and glowering melodrama –
whilst never tipping over into outright self-parody. The younger cast
may be typical US TV blandroids, but the rodent-like Josh Henderson
shows potential as the villainous John Ross, and it's great to see
Hagman – whose unruly eyebrows deliver a startling performance of
their own – back in the saddle.
This
sleek, ridiculous, incident-packed revival may well prove as
addictive as the original in its prime. Channel Five – who are
hardly known for showing hit dramas – have chosen wisely here.
And
ITV, for all its faults, are undeniably skilled at presenting
crime-based factual dramas which – despite boasting an innate
sense of prurient interest – can never be accused of
sensationalising or romanticising their subjects. So it is with MRS
BIGGS,
a handsomely-mounted five-part drama focusing on the wife of the
notorious Great Train Robber.
Written
by ITV's head of factual drama Jeff Pope, whose credits include
Pierrepoint
and See
No Evil: The Moors Murders,
it shows how the life of this innocent, bright, middle-class girl was
rocked forever by her charming rogue of a husband. Although Ronnie is
presented as a habitual petty criminal struggling to quash his urges
for the sake of the woman he loves, Pope certainly doesn't make any
excuses for his actions. And Charmian Biggs, although portrayed
sympathetically, is often exasperatingly naïve in her devotion.
Sheridan
Smith and Daniel Mays make for captivating, nuanced leads, ably
supported by the likes of Jay Simpson as coolly sinister criminal
mastermind, Bruce Reynolds. Framed as a tumultuous love story, it's a
sensitive and revealing take on familiar territory, and far more
thoughtful than the romping likes of Phil Collins vehicle Buster,
which essentially treated the whole affair as a bit of a caper.
Mired
in fag smoke and jazz, it also presents a convincing depiction of
Britain's brown Formica '50s and early '60s, and shows a life of
crime for what it is: an interminable mug's game.
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