The Age of Steel

Dear Gary—

Mickey: “You’re just making this up as you go along.”

Doctor: “Yep. But I do it brilliantly.”

The Age of Steel is a made up story in a made up universe, and it isn’t exactly brilliant, but it is pretty darn good.

Continuing the Saturday morning nature of the previous episode, The Age of Steel picks up the Perils of Pauline type cliffhanger from Rise of the Cybermen with the Doctor and company on the verge of deletion at the steely hands of the Cybermen. “Delete. Delete. Delete.” Death is imminent and seemingly inevitable when, voila, the Doctor whips out his handy power cell from the TARDIS and one magic wand wave later the Cybermen are extinguished. Mrs. Moore swoops in and scoops them all up in her getaway van.

“I thought I was broadcasting to the Security Services,” Pete Tyler says derisively to complete the cartoon connection. “What do I get? Scooby Doo and his gang. They’ve even got the van.” Of course it doesn’t say much for Pete either that he got it so wrong. Apparently it could have been anyone he was broadcasting to; he should count himself lucky.

The Age of Steel is the action packed conclusion to this two part story and from the marching Cybermen to the siege of London to the assembly line of victims to the three pronged infiltration of the Cybus factory it is a heart pounder.

It’s a good thing it is such a thrill ride because it tends to deflect the many questions that arise. Like who exactly is listening to the TV bulletins warning about the attacks? I can see why perhaps the anchorman isn’t wearing the entrancing ear pods, they are the competition after all, but is there really an audience for television news in this Cybus technology dependent culture? And if there are people out there minus the ear pods and listening, where are they and why isn’t there more organized resistance than merely the Doctor and his Scooby Doo gang? Surely there is a police and military presence that could be mustered. And since it is only London that is affected I’m sure authorities from around the country and indeed the world would be rallying a defense.

And then there is the question of John Lumic. The Cybermen are his babies. He pursued this technology for the express purpose of extending his own life. His ultimate goal is to become a Cyberman. So why is it that he resists conversion? “I will upgrade only with my last breath,” he declares, even while struggling with what appears to be his last breath due to the sabotage of his henchman Crane. Most puzzling of all, though, is why Lumic, once converted and fully Cyber, still needs his life support chair. Couldn’t the Cybermen spare a fully functional and upright Cyber body for their creator?

I do have to admit, however, that the upgraded Cyber Controller in his Cyber wheelchair is very comic book villain impressive.

But the action whizzes along and all doubts are swept aside.

Running through the occupied streets of London, Ricky is deleted leaving Mickey as a poor substitute in the eyes of Jake. Now I know that Mickey has long been set up as the butt of jokes and never taken seriously, but we’re really hit over the head in Age of Steel with the complete nonentity that the Doctor Who universe regards Mickey as. “You’re nothing, you are,” Jake tells him just to confirm this for us. I can take the repeated references to “Mickey the Idiot” because this is echoing what the Doctor has called him all along. Where things really get heavy handed is when the Doctor is handing out instructions but overlooks Mickey. “What about me?” Mickey asks, and the Doctor is at a complete loss. “What, stay out of trouble? Be the tin dog?” Mickey says just to emphasize his utter insignificance.

Mickey isn’t going to stand for it anymore and it’s about time. “I’m going with Jake,” he decides. Taking the above route in the Doctor’s three pronged attack plan of above, between, below (nice callback to The Five Doctors) Mickey emerges as the linchpin.

I’ll start with the below, though. The Doctor and Mrs. Moore enter through the cooling tunnels which are eerily lined with dormant Cybermen. It’s a nice chance for Mrs. Moore’s character to be rounded out, even though it is only to make her death that much more moving. Not to be outdone, however, is the death of Sally the Cyberman. Yes, The Age of Steel has humanized the Cybermen, making them tragically poignant when their emotional inhibitor is broken and their threat to humanity decidedly more devastating.

Mrs. Moore is dead and the Doctor’s intent to sneak up on the control center is thwarted. He does make it to the control center but only because he is captured. Interesting that the Cybermen can instantly detect he has two hearts and decide that he therefore needs further analysis. These are not the Cybermen of the Doctor’s known universe so they do not recognize him.

Reminder to myself, Gary, to keep an eye out for the Cybermen in upcoming serials. If future encounters are with these new Cybermen from the parallel universe with their new creation myth and new motivation, will they recognize the Doctor and all iterations thereof? How will we know if they are the new or the old? And wouldn’t it be interesting to have, say, Cyberman Alt Jackie Tyler meeting up with the real Jackie Tyler? Although presumably Cyberman Alt Jackie is destroyed along with the others in this episode. Oh well. Onward.

Between. Rose and Pete don defunct ear pods and enter through the front door. What their plan is from there I’m not sure. They seem to be on a straight path for conversion. It is only by the merest chance that Cyberman Jackie recognizes Pete. And it is only on the whim of the writer that she decides that Pete, and for some random reason Rose as well, should be taken to the control room rather than be made over.

Finally we have above. Mickey and Jake. Their mission is the only one accomplished: to take out the transmitter on the zeppelin. And it is Mickey who accomplishes this. Mickey the idiot who has rejected the opinion of others, makes his own assessment, and deems himself worthwhile. He starts with a lesson learned from the Doctor. “Don’t kill them,” he tells Jake of the two guards as he takes charge. “If you kill them, what’s the difference between you and the Cybermen?” Next he cleverly tricks a Cyberman into destroying the transmitter (after learning Jake hasn’t a clue what to do). Lastly and with some prompting from the Doctor, he cracks the cancellation code and sends all of the Cybermen, save Lumic for no particular reason, into a frenzy. Somehow this also causes all manner of explosions, but oh well, it makes for some exciting escape scenes as Mickey once again comes to the rescue in his trusty zeppelin.

Mickey has found his voice. He is in a parallel universe and decides to ditch the Doctor and Rose. He has a new mission—to hunt down and destroy all of the remaining Cyber factories scattered around the parallel Earth. He also has his grandmother, abusive though she is, alive in this world. I’m not sure when he is planning on fitting in fixing the carpet on his gran’s stair with his Cyberman hunting duties, but I’m sure he’ll manage somehow. He will always be second fiddle to the Doctor and Rose show, but here in his alternate reality he can make something of himself. Too bad he couldn’t find the courage to forge a new identity in his own.

All in all an exciting, thrilling, and emotive story that successfully revives the Cybermen for a new Doctor Who age.

Here’s hoping this reaches you, Gary, in whatever alternate reality you now dwell . . .

Rise of the Cybermen

Dear Gary—

Rise of the Cybermen gives us just that—the rise of a re-imagined and repurposed cyber race in a parallel universe. It is a chance to wipe the slate clean of the confusing, convoluted, and cockeyed history of Original Who Cybermen. Cybermen of old first appeared in The Tenth Planet with a readymade and long but clouded past. The show never chose to explore the true rise of the Cybermen, how they came to be or how they came to move their home planet of Mondas (twin planet of Earth) out of their own galaxy. This was an opportunity lost. In subsequent serials the Cybermen hop scotched their way through the Doctor Who universe, their story always littered with gaping holes.

Rather than going back and trying to piece together a coherent record of the Cybermen from the patchwork pattern laid down, New Who has decided to start from scratch; new Cybermen; new origin story; even a new universe. The result is a much more effective and menacing villain, yet a tad mundane and slightly Saturday morning children’s hour.

It starts with their creator, John Lumic. The rich narrative of Mondas is dispensed with entirely; it is unclear if Mondas even exists in this parallel universe or what has become of its inhabitants who in that alternate reality had turned to cybernetics for survival. Perhaps Lumic has some connection to Mondas. However, for all intents and purposes, Mondas is nonexistent and it is one man and one man alone who is responsible for the Cybermen. John Lumic. As such, the mad and crippled Lumic is the epitome of a comic book super villain.

He sits in his chair hooked up to various contraptions (echoes of Davros) snarling and barking with unreasoned repugnance. His insane desire to extend his own life combined with his egomaniacal pride in his brilliance has led him to the ultimate human upgrade: “a living brain jammed inside a cybernetic body, with a heart of steel; all emotions removed.”

Lumic has been forcibly upgrading the homeless and forgotten peoples of the Earth, creating an army of Cybermen. His desire for immortality has led him to the maniacal belief that all humanity will benefit. His goal is to upgrade the entire population. This is a distortion from Classic Cybermen. The overriding motivation for Classic Cybermen was always survival. While Lumic has the initial desire for his personal survival, the converted and upgraded lot has no such drive. Their prime objective is simply to save, elevate, and give eternal life (to paraphrase their creator Lumic). It is actually an act of benevolence in some twisted way.  Except that those who resist are killed. And this brings these new Cybermen dangerously close to being nothing more than alternative Daleks. The vital distinction, however, is that Daleks exterminate any and all that are different, only converting when they need to reinforce their ranks, while the Cyberman convert any and all that are different, only deleting those who are incompatible.

A word about the new conversion process—this I do not understand. The new Cybermen themselves are forbidding with their military precision and relentless march; their redesign is terrifying; they are cold and calculating, yet horrifyingly pitiable (“Why no emotions?” “Because it hurts.”).  Their aim to turn all of human kind into these monsters is gruesome. But what one would expect to be a delicate and meticulous operation is accomplished in a couple minutes by the cartoonish one-size-fits-all hack and slash machine. It deflates the terror and turns it into a playschool shock theater. I cannot take the process seriously.

The Cybermen aside, we still have the parallel universe to contend with.

The episode starts with the TARDIS falling out of the time vortex, which the Doctor declares is impossible. “We’re in some sort of no place; the silent realm; the lost dimension,” he further states. “Otherwise known as London,” Mickey says, proving the Doctor wrong. Mickey quickly works out that this is a parallel universe; this is only a sign of things to come for Mickey. This and the next episode very much belong to Mickey. The Doctor, meantime, throws up his hands and gives up, proclaiming the TARDIS DOA. Luckily for him the TARDIS gives him a sign that there is still some life left in her and the crew is given 24 hours shore leave while the power is recharging.

The prospect of a parallel universe is intriguing; however the way it plays out is all too convenient. Aside from hints of a literal upper class high above in zeppelins, curfews, and a homeless problem, little is disclosed about this world. It is merely a backdrop and excuse for the obviously manufactured drama to follow. By some miracle, out of the whole wide parallel universe the TARDIS has landed in London, and not just parallel London but the one parallel London in which both Peter Tyler (alive in this world) and Mickey’s double (Ricky) are hot on the trail of John Lumic and his cyber creations. This is stretching credulity beyond its breaking point; however it does provide some nice character moments.

How great is it to see Peter Tyler alive and not just well but prospering? Of course things are not all peaches and cream, what with alternate Jackie (who by the way is a hoot). Rose’s defiance of the Doctor in seeking out her father is predictable, although I’m not so sure why the Doctor is so adamant against her finding him. After all, he willingly had broken time laws to take her back to visit her real father before his death. There are some genuine moments between Rose and alternate Pete and Rose and alternate Jackie that make the whopping coincidences forgivable though.

Interesting that there is no alternate Rose or alternate Doctor. I find it hilarious that the closest thing this parallel universe has to a Rose is a dog. But oh how cloying a statement that Rose is one of a kind. As for the Doctor—I suppose there could be an alt for the Doctor kicking somewhere about; after all there is a Torchwood, but I expect that could have been started for different reasons. It would be a fascinating tale to tell if the Doctor ever did meet his double, but that would be a different story. It is this story, Rise of the Cybermen, that is being told, and as such there is no room for two Doctors.

There is room, however, for Mickey and his alt, and they make up for anything else that is lacking. Noel Clarke does a fantastic job conveying the two personalities, but I think equally or even more impressive is the job he does in depicting the emotional journey that Mickey goes through in this and the next story. From the hurt he feels when the Doctor and Rose make him the butt of their joke, to the realization that the Doctor will always go running after Rose and never him, to the discovery that his alternate self has the respect and admiration of his gang, Mickey is measuring up his own self worth. And the mixture of pain and joy at meeting his alternate grandmother, dead in his world and alive in this, is truly touching.

By the way, the abuse his grandmother heaps on him goes a long way in explaining why Mickey has always taken it from Rose. Rose laughing as she tells the Doctor how the grandmother used to slap Mickey tells a lot about Rose as well. Mickey is one young man who could benefit from counseling and an in-depth review of his relationship patterns.

By chance, Mickey and Ricky and the gang converge on the very house where the Doctor and Rose find themselves and where Lumic and his merry Cybermen are planning a siege. It is a bit of a mystery to me why Lumic, who had rejected out of hand the suggestion of presenting his cyber innovations for Geneva’s approval, bothers with seeking the endorsement of the President of Great Britain to start our serial. I can only imagine that being the super villain that he is, this is his way of rubbing it in when the President offers his resistance to the Cybermen at Jackie’s party at the end. Another mystery is why Lumic needs to get all of the security arrangements and access codes from Jackie when his Cybermen just come crashing through. I suppose that bit was simply to display the powers of his ear pods and to revel in his sinister side.

Speaking of the ear pods—I find it really hard to believe that every person on the planet is sporting these. Aside from the horrible fashion statement, the inconvenience, the cumbersomeness, the expense . . . are people really that stupid? OK, you can look at people today and their cell phones and iPods and tablets and all manner of gadgetry—but that’s the point—there are all manner of gadgetry; all manner of shapes and sizes and manufacturers. Where one pops up fifty varieties follow. Everyone has something different because everyone is different; and some (namely me) have none.  And then there is the whole everyone stops dead in their tracks at the exact same time no matter where they are or what they are doing aspect. How many car crashes result? Not to mention any number of activities one could be doing that would be inconvenient or dangerous or embarrassing to have interrupted in that manner.

Rise of the Cybermen is a set-up episode full of such flaws, massive coincidences, and contrivances, but it still manages to be sufficiently entertaining. It ends on the cliffhanger of our heroes being deemed inferior. “Delete. Delete. Delete.”

Of course, Gary, we know how this works . . .

to be continued . . .

The Girl in the Fireplace

Dear Gary—

“There is a vessel in your world where the days of my life are pressed together like the chapters of a book, so that he may step from one to the other without increase of age while I, weary traveler, must always take the slower path.”

On the slow path myself, I have finally arrived at The Girl in the Fireplace. There are a few elements that disturb me, however the episode is so beautifully done that I tend to forgive them. The costumes are exquisite, the sets elegant, the monsters spooky, the script witty, and the acting superior. The story has romance, humor, action, thrills, and pathos. It is a Doctor Who story worthy of the canon.

“It’s a spaceship. Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go.” This is Mickey’s first journey in the TARDIS and I have to say it is about time. One of the better things about this episode is the old school nature of the Doctor and his companions (although paradoxically this leads to the more disturbing aspects, but more on that later).  Mickey’s presence restores a balance in the TARDIS dynamic; it is no longer the Doctor and Rose show played out for their own private amusement.

“Don’t wander off. I tell them, I do. Rule one.” Rose and Mickey have broken rule one and wandered off; and I can’t help but reminisce, Gary, about Ian’s disgusted reaction (“Why? Why do they do it?”) in The Dalek Invasion of Earth when he and the First Doctor return to find Susan and Barbara gone. This is what companions do; good old fashioned Doctor Who companions. They wander off.

Rose and Mickey make a good team, at least now that Rose has gotten over her displeasure with Mickey’s addition to the TARDIS crew and has taken him under her wing. There is some good natured humor between the two and again between the three when the Doctor reappears. (“You’re not keeping the horse.”)This is the easy-going relationship that has been underplayed for a long time. No tension, sexual or otherwise; no hidden meanings; no exclusive, members only club mentality; just some honest fun.

Exploring the ship, Mickey and Rose discover human body parts hard wired in, giving new meaning to that pervasive barbeque smell. While I have serious doubts about the efficacy of this patchwork repair job, the idea is horrific and lends grim undertones to our story. However, the Doctor and Reinette (AKA Madame de Pompadour) make up the heart of the tale.

“The monsters and the Doctor; it seems you cannot have one without the other.” Reinette is on the slow path through life, meeting her “fireplace man” when a young girl with monsters under her bed. The clockwork monsters in creepy mask and wig are straight from a little girl’s nightmare. But the monsters have a nightmare of their own; the Doctor. The Doctor can take the “quick route,” stepping from the monsters’ spaceship in the fifty first century into various points of Reinette’s life. It is a poignant love story played out through the trickeries of time.

Both are a bit starry eyed; the Doctor is star struck with the famed Madame de Pompadour while Reinette is worshipping the hero of her childhood dreams (complete with white horse).  However they establish an intimacy, facilitated by the Doctor’s mind meld: “To walk among the memories of another living soul.” Brushes with danger and the sense of urgency serve to heighten their feelings.

The clockwork androids are scanning Reinette’s brain, waiting for her to be “complete,” or in other words, waiting for her to reach the age of 37 when they believe her brain will be compatible with the ship, providing the last missing part they need to complete their repairs. The Doctor smashing through the mirror on his charger is the dramatic high point in this romantic fiction that is full of self-sacrifice and bittersweet emotions. The Doctor saves Reinette, but in so doing effectively strands himself in eighteenth century France. The Doctor is resigned to living life on the slow path with his newfound love, however Reinette leads him by the hand to the fireplace of her youth; a doorway back to the TARDIS. Buoyed by the discovery that this last link to the ship is miraculously still working, the Doctor invites Reinette along for the adventure of a lifetime.

The Doctor has just said goodbye to Sarah Jane in the previous episode School Reunion. She had been a link with his past before the Time War, a reminder of happier times. Now he meets another mature woman of beauty, wit, and charm. Is it any wonder that he wants to sweep Reinette up into the heavens with him? His joy as she accepts his offer is infectious, and his sorrow when he returns for her moments later only to discover that he is too late is heart breaking.

It is a beautifully done love story. And this leads me back to the beginning and those disturbing elements.

In and of itself The Girl in the Fireplace is a superb Doctor Who story. It has lighthearted companions, thrilling action, and an emotional punch. However, The Girl in the Fireplace does not stand alone. It is the fifth episode in a fourteen episode second season. As such, it is in the middle of the unfortunate arc of the Doctor and Rose. For some unknown reason the Doctor has invested Rose with qualities and importance well beyond her. He has hesitated in saving whole universes because it could mean the death of Rose. He dotes on her to the exclusion of others. And then along comes Madame de Pompadour and he is willing to strand Rose (forget about Mickey for the moment—the Doctor probably has) on a spaceship thousands of years out of her time, and he does this not to save the world or the universe or time or anyone other than Madame de Pompadour.

I can’t help wishing, Gary, that the rest of the series was more like The Girl in the Fireplace. Stand alone episodes without wearisome arcs; dashes of humor (“bananas are good”) with no surrounding sexual tension; companions who can wander off without the constant need to validate themselves with the Doctor.

I am still enjoying the show, and The Girl in the Fireplace is a definite high note; however “the path has never seemed more slow.” And so Gary, I, weary traveler, continue on . . .

School Reunion

Dear Gary—

Sarah Jane Smith! K9! Now we’re cooking with gas, as my dad would say. Now this is a Doctor Who story. I have no complaints. Oh, there are a few quibbles with the plot, but who really cares why both Mickey and Sarah Jane keyed in on the school with the flimsiest of evidence or how Rose and the Doctor found it so easy to get jobs there, especially Rose given the bad stuff going down in the cafeteria. Any good Doctor Who script can be full of holes and unanswered questions yet somehow rise above. School Reunion rises above.

I have to start with the return of Elisabeth Sladen as Sarah Jane Smith. She steps into the role as though she had never left, except with an added maturity. “I got old,” she tells the Doctor, but she has aged with grace. She meets the Doctor on a more equal footing, something only a few companions have ever done (Barbara, Ian, and Romana to name the select few).

Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart made a habit of returning to Doctor Who and always elevated the story when he did so. However it is not merely the presence of Sarah Jane that enriches School Reunion, but also the emotional depths mined as a result of the character’s return. The episode resonates with love, regret, longing, and loss; it explores the nature of companionship with the Doctor and the inevitable heartbreak that accompanies it, both for him and the companions who invariably get left behind.

“You can spend the rest of your life with me,” the Doctor tells Rose, “but I can’t spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on; alone. That’s the curse of the Time Lords.” That’s the first time I ever really thought about it. Prior to this I took the revolving line of companions as a matter of course. Companions come and companions go; some leave, some get left, some, a very few, even die; the Doctor always carries on. There have been brief moments of reflection as the Doctor takes his leave of the departing, but another always arrives to fill the hole and the action always sweeps us up and former followers quickly become nothing more than pleasant memories.

I have to go back to the First Doctor, to William Hartnell, for the two partings that took the hardest toll upon the Doctor. The first was Susan, his granddaughter; his flesh and blood; his last link to his home and his own people. After considered thought he left Susan behind for her own good at the end of The Dalek Invasion of Earth; he gave her a future and a life that she could never have in her aimless travels with him. It was bittersweet with deep felt loss but with the promise of hope (“go forward in all your beliefs . . .”). Second there was the parting from Barbara and Ian in The Chase. To this day I regard this as the most devastating. From all indications these two were his first true companions. Susan had been, well his family, his granddaughter. They had been on their own in exile from their home planet when Barbara and Ian stumbled upon them and into TARDIS life. It started out hostile, but the four soon became close friends. These were people the Doctor could share experiences and adventures with, people he came to care deeply for. And they were people who left him.  With joyous heart they returned home, Doctorless, and William Hartnell’s elegantly understated “I shall miss them” spoke volumes.

Jump ahead to the Fourth Doctor, Tom Baker in The Hand of Fear saying goodbye to Sarah Jane Smith: “Oh, Sarah, don’t you forget me.” Sarah didn’t want to leave; oh, in a fit of pique she packed her bags and threatened to leave, but she was only trying to get a rise out of the Doctor; she never expected to be unceremoniously dumped back on Earth. The Hand of Fear is very much Sarah Jane’s story and the freeze frame at the end highlights the poignant nature of companionship with the Doctor. Tom Baker’s warm, “Oh, Sarah, don’t you forget me,” combined with the affectionate moments he had shared with Sarah during the episode and the lonely quality of the following, The Deadly Assassin, deftly characterize the loss the Doctor feels without ever overtly stating it.

However life and adventure goes on for the Doctor and new companions find their way into the TARDIS and these brief moments of angst are forgotten. School Reunion, however, brings them front and center.

“How lonely you must be, Doctor,” Finch tells him. How many friends has he seen come and go from his life? In hindsight and with the explicit statement of School Reunion, it is more understandable why many of the Doctor’s relationships were slightly contentious (and in particular I’m thinking Tegan).

It is a beautiful moment when the Doctor first spots Sarah across the teacher’s lounge. He has not forgotten her; neither has she forgotten him. “I used to have a friend who sometimes went by that name,” she tells him when he introduces himself as John Smith, and she continues, “He was a very uncommon man.” And then Sarah sees the TARDIS and all those memories well up as she turns to find the Doctor, a new Doctor with a new face and a new companion, but still the Doctor, her Doctor. “It’s you.”

The Doctor has not forgotten, but he has moved on. He can look on Sarah Jane with fondness and pride. Sarah, however, has some unresolved feelings that manifest in moments of, not anger exactly, but more reproach. “You could have come back,” she charges. I don’t picture Sarah Jane Smith pining away just waiting for the day the Doctor returns; I’m sure she got on with her life; but I’m also sure that she thought of him every day and wondered. “I waited for you. I missed you.” How could she not? “I thought you must have died.” She had no closure. Oh, and I really do hate that modern invention of ‘closure,’ Gary. Life is messy and chaotic and does not follow a script. It is convenient, though, as a shorthand way of saying that Sarah had an extraordinary man come into her life one day, sweep her off into untold adventures in the stars, and then left her behind with so many questions unanswered and so many expectations unfulfilled.

Now she knows that he did not die; he just never returned. He was off living his life.

“You could have come back.” It is an accusation.

But she also understands. “I couldn’t,” the Doctor tells her. He had to spell it out for Rose, but all Sarah needs is that simple, “I couldn’t,” and the look of sorrow in his eyes. Sarah understands. And so she deflects the pain with humor and a playful reproof: “It wasn’t Croydon. Where you dropped me off, that wasn’t Croydon.” (It was Aberdeen.)

The presence of Sarah also demands an inspection of the Doctor’s new relationship with Rose. Rose is as usual jealous at first sight of Sarah Jane and it brings out her cruel side: “Well, he’s never mentioned you.” But then she begins to internalize and process. If he has traveled with Sarah in the past and never mentions her in the present, what does that mean for her? “I thought you and me were . . .” Rose is thinking in her typical teenage romance mentality.  “No, not to you,” the Doctor reassures her emphatically when she asks if her fate will be the same. It’s rather rash and irresponsible of him, because inevitably it can’t be anything else but, but Rose isn’t ready for that truth.

Rose does come to some measure of understanding, not through the Doctor but through Sarah. It starts with her customary high school approach (fitting that they are in a school). Sarah tries to counsel her but Rose becomes defensive and combative. She briefly drags Sarah down to her level as they compare experiences with the Doctor.

“Mummies,” Sarah begins. “I’ve met ghosts,” Rose counters. “Robots; lots of robots,” Sarah returns. “Slitheen—in Downing Street,” Rose tops. “Daleks,” Sarah answers. “Met the Emperor,” Rose triumphs. In the end, though, it is Sarah who wins out with: “THE Loch Ness Monster,” (Terror of the Zygons). The two end up sharing a laugh as they compare Doctor notes. I can only hope that the maturity of Sarah is wearing off on Rose.

It’s not just Sarah Jane Smith who returns, though; it is K9 as well. The tin dog. “Oh my God, I’m the tin dog.” K9 meet Mickey Smith. The secondary companion. Because the Doctor does not always travel with a single companion. Sometimes there is a K9. Sometimes there is a tin dog.

Mickey does not have the respect that even a tin dog has, however. Mickey has been used and abused by both Rose and the Doctor. It is wonderful to see K9; it is wonderful to have John Leeson return as the voice of K9; it is even more wonderful to see Mickey come into his own. “I’m not the tin dog,” he ultimately concludes, “and I want to see what’s out there.” He wants to travel with the Doctor, not as an afterthought or a joke, but as a full-fledged partner. And it is not Rose that is the draw for him; if it were Rose he would have jumped on board long ago; and it is not just the Doctor; it is a new-found sense of self worth and confidence that prompts him.

I view this episode as both Rose and Mickey finally growing up; as Mickey and Rose moving past their school years.

Given all that is going on with the return of Sarah and K9 and the exploration of what it means to be a companion of the Doctor, there is still a plot that is unfolding, and as Doctor Who plots go it is passable. There are some problems, but overall, with everything going on, they are worth the overlook.

Anthony Head as the main baddie Finch contributes greatly to this act of absolution.  As the headmaster of the school and the leader of the Krilitanes he is magnificent. “But we’re not even enemies” he reasons with the Doctor. It is a bit uncharacteristic of the Doctor to be dead set against an alien without even knowing its motives. Granted, he turns out to be right, but that is only courtesy of the script.

“Show me how clever you are; work it out,” Finch challenges the Doctor. Using the intelligence and imagination of the children, Finch and the Krilitanes are out to crack the Skasis Paradigm, otherwise known as “the god maker; the universal theory.” Skepticism aside regarding whether such a code exists or could be cracked by several dozen kids on computers, who is the Doctor to decide that a race can or cannot utilize such a theory if they can figure out a way to crack it? If such a code exists and it is so easily cracked, someone is bound to crack it sooner or later (Daleks or Cybermen anyone?). Why not Finch and the Krilitanes? At least they are offering the Doctor some say in their New Universe Order. However, I can understand why the Doctor turns them down in their ‘god maker’ proposal. Finch uses the presence of Sarah Jane, suggesting the possibility of everlasting youth and beauty, and he dangles the promise of re-writing Time Lord History. But the Doctor has a time machine; he has the TARDIS. He could re-write history any time he wanted to. He has never and will never do that and has stated as such. There is no true lure there.

But Anthony Head and the bats and the kids and the music and the rats and the thrill—it’s all good. It keeps the heart pumping and the pimples goosing.

“Forget the shooty dog thing.” Ah, that makes everything good.

The school is blown up, the Krilitanes are blown up; K9 is blown up. The Skasis Paradigm is uncracked. There are no gods made. All is right with the Doctor Who universe.

“Goodbye, Doctor.” Sarah Jane is taking her leave. Sarah Jane is grown up. The Doctor isn’t quite ready to say goodbye, but Sarah forces him. “Everything has its time,” she told the Doctor earlier, “and everything ends.” Her travels with the Doctor are at an end and she has moved on. This is one lesson she has taught the Doctor.

The lesson she teaches Rose: “Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.”

And finally, her own reward: “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” (Along with a fresh K9 model courtesy of the Doctor.)

Goodbye, Sarah Jane.  I wouldn’t have missed you for the world.