Well, that was a wild ride for half six on a saturday evening, on a dark December day in twenty twenty three.From its delightful opening with Sir Issac Newton, who was lucky to get away with just an apple landing on his head after the way both Donna and The Doctor were gushing over him, to a slowly, literally, unfolding nightmare in space. The elasticity of this lovely shows format being stretched from a field in England in 1666 to the very edges of existance and the terrible nothing that might wait there. The chemistry between the two leads was Alchemical, with a precisely used capital A. Russel T Davis script was one of his best ever and thats a pretty high bar as it is. And as for the appearence of Bernard Cribbens at the end, it quite unmanned me. Whatever that means anymore. That lovely old face of his and that voice. Oh Wilfred Mott, we love you.
Two episodes in and one to go.
It hurts and it makes me want to sing.
Count yer blessings, you really would not want to hear the results.
This current iteration of Doctor Who; A thing of beauty and a joy forever.
